European Adventures - The Saga Continues

Well, before I get to the sequel of my previous blog on our European trip, I need to address some hate mail I received after publishing that post.  Many of the readers in US/Canada called me a liar saying that they have known my wife, Anshu, for a long time, and hence they know that she does not have a real sister, called Kiddo. Well, the only thing I will say is that, yes, you are “biologically” right……but I am also “technically” right. Now, the next logical question will be – so what does this mean? Does Anshu have a real sister with a slightly strange name Kiddo Bahwa or not? The only thing I am allowed (by Anshu and Kiddo) to say is that “it is complicated.”  Anshu and Kiddo were born in different families but for all practical purposes behave as twins, who are 3 years apart (Kiddo being 3 years older, even though she claims to be 3 years younger and behaves as if she were 16 years younger…and hence earned the name Kiddo). You ask, “How is that possible?”  Trust me, if I try to explain it, I will have to write so much that it will probably take around 5-10 zettabytes (ZB) of data. Just to put things in perspective – zetta is 10²¹ so 1 zettabyte is 1 billion terabytes.  And you thought that terabyte (which is 1000 GB) was a lot of data.

In fact, the only place on earth that is using this much data (around 5 ZB) is the Intelligence Community Comprehensive National Cybersecurity Initiative Data Center in Utah. You obviously need that kind of data if you are listening to every single conversation 314 million Americans have every day. And if I look at the conversations Anshu and Kiddo have on a daily basis, I am sure they amount to almost to that level, give or take 1 ZB. Since access to this kind of server is not feasible for a mortal like me, I attempted to write a book on the intricacies of Anshu’s and Kiddo’s relationship but it turned out to be pretty impractical because by the time I was done with just the Volume 1, it looked a little thicker than a typical book (picture below). And hence I gave up the idea and surrendered to my fate that I will never be able to neither comprehend nor explain the relationship between Anshu and Kiddo.

Another reader from Baluchistan confronted me by saying that the suggestion of naming the royal baby Amar Akbar Anthony was ridiculous because those were 3 different people in the movie, not one single person. It is a different matter that in our conversation we moved quickly from the royal baby’s name to Baluchistan’s latest trends in women fashion. Turns out that Versace burqa has taken over as the most popular burqa in the province after dethroning Gucci.  In any case, I actually agree with this girl from Baluchistan that my friend Sami’s idea was, in fact, ridiculous. I have a better idea – how about John Jani Janardan? That for sure was one person’s name in the Hindi flick, Naseeb. If you like this name, great, thanks.  If you do not…it was actually my friend, Maneet’s idea.

Then my lovely sis-in-law-cum-my-biggest-critic, Kanya Bahwa posts a comment on the previous blog accusing me of being insensitive to the women’s disease (Compulsive Buying Disorder). She also threatens me that the National Commission of Women is coming to get me.  Her accusations and threats are wrong at multiple levels. First of all, before anyone raises such a hue and cry about me being insensitive to CBD, she should think about how girls are insensitive to some of men’s serious diseases, such as ADD (no, not the Attention Deficit Disorder but Alcohol Desire Disorder), STD (no, not the regular STD but Sports Tenderness Disorder), and COPD (no, not Chronic Obstructive Pulmonary Disorder but Checking Out Princesses Disorder) etc.  If I start writing about how some girls do not commiserate with men’s disease, I will need another 4-5 ZB of data.

And, by the way, Kanya, I am not worried about the National Commission of Women going to come after me because it is the same organization, which during my trip to India last year honored me at their annual national convention at Delhi’s Centerstage Mall. They felicitated me as a crusader of women’s rights and bestowed upon me the introductory award for “the most knowledgeable guy in women fashion”.  On a related note, unfortunately, after the award function, there was a stampede in the mall when 523 women from the convention, with most of them suffering from the CBD, stormed the stores and crushed 23 store workers to serious injuries who came in their way.  Obviously, the credit for my unparalleled knowledge on the topics of mascara, eye-liners, nail paint, what is IN, what is OUT etc. goes to my enthusiastic participation in intense fashion discussions between Anshu and Kiddo (one of them actually lasted 4.5 hours on a video call). So during the ceremony, I did the right thing and dedicated my award to Anshu and Kiddo.  I am sure that there are many other guys who know this stuff but they are not as courageous as I am to come forward and admit it, making it pretty easy for me to win the award.

Coming back to our Europe trip, after Paris, our next stop was Switzerland. I liked everything about this country, except its vast train network. The biggest issue with this train system is that it is always on time. Growing up in India, I am not used to this kind of punctuality so on the first day we almost missed our train from Zurich to Luzern. As soon as all 4 of us got into the train, the doors closed and the train started moving. And I started thinking that if we had missed the train, it would have been our own version of the Hindi flick Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge (DDLJ) – except that in the movie, the hero and heroine were not married with two kids, and they were stuck in a tiny town with no more trains that day, (whereas, there is a train every 30 min from Zurich to Luzern), and the hero (Shahrukh Khan) was much better looking than I am….so on second thought, I guess if we had missed the train, it would NOT have been our own version of DDLJ….we would have simply taken the next train 30 minutes later.

The best part of Luzern was a trip to the top of Mt. Pilatus by the world’s highest and steepest cog train. This train system is a true engineering marvel and passes through some of the most scenic surroundings I have seen in my life. The view from the top was mesmerizing and standing at the top of the mountain, looking down, in one of those philosophical moments, I started wondering, “Why, in the world, Anshu and Kiddo prefer to eat pani poori  from a street vendor in New Delhi, rather than from a reputed joint such as Haldiram’s?”  I guess some critical questions in life remain unanswered.

And as always, my final thought: The most beautiful relationship is with someone who knows all of your insecurities and imperfections and still loves you the same…..as defined by Anshu and Kiddo.

European Adventures

This year out of several choices for our summer vacation, we picked Europe because we really wanted to help its struggling economy (yeah, right). And when it came to picking countries for our excursion, we decided on UK, France and Switzerland for a super important reason – my wife, Anshu, who last year was diagnosed with CBD (Compulsive Buying Disorder) wanted to shop in 3 different countries with 3 different currencies. Her specialist told us that it is normal for people suffering from CBD to have a strong urge to shop in multiple currencies so living in Canada and spending in just USD and CAD may not be enough for her. In case you are wondering about the seriousness of this disease, it is found in 5.8% of the US population (Source: Wikipedia) and approximately 80% of those affected are female (and who are these 20% idiots who are giving us men a bad name by being a part of this group).

Let me also caution readers that this disease is contagious so you need to be very careful when you are in the vicinity of a person suffering from the CBD. In fact, that is how Anshu got this disease. Last year for the first time in our married life she went to India for 5 weeks (because she always worked full time before so never had that much vacation) and out of those 5 weeks, she was there without me for more than 2 weeks. That is when she spent a lot of time with her darling sister, Kiddo Bahwa, who has been suffering from this disease for 4 years now and contracted it from her. Earlier this year in March, when Kiddo had a severe attack of CBD, her husband had to fly her all the way to Dubai so that she could shop in UAE Dirhams. Same way in 2011, Kiddo visited us in Chicago to satisfy her quench to spend in the USD. Many stores in the Woodfield Mall still have her picture on the wall to commemorate her as the biggest spender of the day when she visited them. (BTW, Wish you a very happy birthday, Kiddo Middo. May God bless you with all the happiness of this world!!!!)

Anyway, coming back to our Europe trip, when we landed in London (as in UK, not London, Ontario), there was a lot of excitement in the air about the royal baby. In fact, just a few days before we arrived there, the royals had announced the name of the baby – George Alexander Louis, which I found a very boring and an old-fashioned name. Come on Royals – this is 21^st century…GAL? Really? First of all, I do not understand why in the world someone needs 3 names??  Thank God this kid will not attend a regular elementary school otherwise I could visualize him receiving wedgies in the bathroom every other day just because his name is George Alexander Louis. And, in any case, we are living in a global, diverse, cosmopolitan world where a pure Anglo-Saxon, old-fashioned name does not cut it anymore. If they really wanted 3 names, my friend Sami had a great suggestion – why not call him Amar Akbar Anthony? What could be more diverse than that? As much as we wanted to see this baby (and I am sure Royals would have loved a visit by the Arora family as well), we simply could not fit him in our packed itinerary in London.

For my Harry Potter obsessed family, the highlight of the London trip was a visit to the Harry Potter museum, which, coincidently, was the lowlight of my trip. We took a special bus from the center city to travel to the Warners Bros. Studios. As much as I did not want to be seen to be doing anything related to Harry Potter, the bus itself was painted on both sides with large pictures of Harry Potter and other clowns in the Harry Potter saga. Thank God that it had tinted windows and the visibility was poor due to the London rain so no one on the street could see me in the bus.  The studio tour took a very long, four boring hours but thankfully they had free WiFi there so my iPad was my only savior.

After suffering through the first 90 minutes of the tour, we reached an area where you can buy snacks. I was relieved when I saw a sign for “butter beer” and ordered a large one. As soon as I took the first sip, I spit it out because of the horrible taste of whatever they were selling in the name of beer. I asked the guy what (the hell) that drink was and he said it was the butter beer. I said, “Dude, I can read the sign so I know that it is butter beer, but where (the hell) is beer in it? What is it made of anyway?”  He replied coolly, “Oh! Cream soda with whipped cream.”  “Whipped Cream??”, I yelled. I really wanted to whip his rear-end but Nyle was afraid that my aggression may result in us getting expelled from the museum (which would have been great for me but would have broken his heart) so I decided to simply drain this so called “butter beer” down the drain and file a claim for a refund. I am still waiting for my check (I guess it will be called a “cheque” if it comes from the UK).

Our next stop was Paris where we knew that language will be a hurdle in our dealings with the natives but I was counting on my son, Nyle to use his recently acquired French skills to communicate on our behalf. Some of you may remember that after moving to Canada last year, I did take private lessons in French for 6 months but then realized that learning a new language after turning 40 is as difficult as it is for the Bollywood director, Rohit Shetty to make any sensible movie.

That way I am glad that I did not go to watch Rohit Shetty’s latest flick, Chennai Express but I could not stop my family from making this blunder. They took advantage of my business travel to go and waste an afternoon on this idiotic movie. And they did it even though we are still waiting for our refund from last year’s “Bol Bachchan”. Not only I requested a refund of $57 that we spent on the movie (Kush will never watch a movie without a big tub of popcorn and a bucket size soda that they sell in theatres), I also filed a lawsuit for an undisclosed amount for my mental anguish after watching that movie. My next court hearing is on November 31^st. I will let you know how it went after my date with the judge (no, not that kind of date…I am happily married).

When I was discussing the ultra-low quality of Rohit’s movies with my lovely sis-in-law-cum-my-movie-advisor, Kanya Bahwa, she reminded me that Rohit also made ‘Singham” which was not as ludicrous as the rest of his movies. In that case, let me rephrase my statement – After 6 months of French lessons, I realized that learning French when you are on the wrong side of 40 is as difficult as it was for Dada Kondke to make any sensible movies. And those of you Gen Yers and Gen Z++ers, who may not know who Dada Kondke was, just google him and you will know what I am talking about. And no, I did not watch any of his movies because of the interesting title names he picked.

Let us get back to Paris and French. One time we were very close to the Notre Dame church but still could not find it so I sent Nyle to ask a French gentleman and get directions. Nyle approached the guy and asked, “Où est Notre Dame?” in French, and the guy replied in English, “Oh, you just make a left at the next intersection, go a block and you will see it on your left.” So much for using Nyle’s French skills to communicate with the natives…

So what is common between the royal baby, Rohit Shetty, Harry Potter, Dada Kondke, and Europe – Nothing….. and that is why it is called a column about nothing!!

Coming Up: More stories from the Europe trip (especially Switzerland).

And as always, my final thought: Hats off to Bhasins for their gracious hospitality in London. Without you guys, we would have been lost in London (as we were in Switzerland and France).