Welcome to Switzerland !

We left Dubai airport for a seven hour journey to Switzerland and it goes without saying that I was all excited. For, I had heard of this beautiful country and many who had visited it earlier always said one thing - it is a place to be felt and experienced. While I waited to catch a bird’s eye view of Swiss, a pretty air-hostess of Emirates did a big favour to me. She ensured that my glass was kept brimming with Budweiser beer :).

It was a seven hour journey and all we had was, few magazines and over hundred movies loaded in the small television sets fixed in front of our seats. I and my wife Nidhi flipped through some English and Hindi movies before dozing off. A slight shudder woke me up and strange as it may sound but I could feel the fragrance of maple trees found all over in Switzerland. ‘Finally I have reached the place called ‘heaven on earth,’ I thought and looked down from the window. It was all green down there.

All I could see was few wooden mansions and lot of greenery. It was indeed a treat for my eyes that were fed up of seeing concrete jungle in my so-called green city Vadodara. The flight landed at Zurich airport by afternoon and we were expecting chilly winds. Surprisingly, it was a bit warm – probably around 20 degree Celsius. I got a first look of Swiss and I must say I was stumped. The air had a certain element of freshness – something that I never felt back in India.

Our exit from the airport was as smooth as the landing. We walked out of the lounge and headed towards a small automatic three-bogey train that took us to the conveyor belt. Our luggage was waiting for us. Suddenly a shrill voice came from behind, ‘kya aap meri madad karenge (Will you please help me). I must say that these Hindi words seemed more sweet and courteous in Switzerland than back in India. A frail old Indian lady was seeking for my help to pick up her luggage and put it on a trolley. I obliged and we walked out of the airport.

Captured Switzerland on way in Swiss Rail

Little did I know that a hilarious incident was waiting to happen. Nidhi and I walked up to the main road outside the airport that was abuzz with vehicles. We waited at the roadside on a footpath for a while to let the cars pass by but in few minutes we lost our patience – the 10-hour journey had sucked out all the stamina off us. I held Nidhi’s hand and put my foot forward to try and cross the road. And, suddenly all the cars coming in our direction stopped at a distance. Surprised, I took my foot back and thinking that I did something stupid. I was too nervous to step on the road again and so we both stood there for few seconds. But the cars refused to budge from their positions.

Suddenly my eyes caught some movement in one of the cars. The driver was waving at us and signaling us to cross the road. Gosh! I realized that the cars were waiting for us to cross the road so that they could move on. Unbelievable – I thought, even as images of honking and screaming cars and two-wheelers back inIndia started playing in the front of my eyes. A co-traveler later told us that all the car and two-wheeler commuters in Switzerland show respect for pedestrians by allowing them to cross first. Welcome to Switzerland!

Honeymoon Travels… (The journey begins)

When I saw Dilwale Dulhaniya Le Jayenge during my college days, there was one thing I fell in love with apart from the movie’s songs and Kajol. The scenic landscape of Europe – especially Switzerland. The green country side and beautiful wooden houses always fascinated me. I had dreamt of touring Switzerland ever since. So when my fiancée – now wife J – suggested Switzerland as our honeymoon destination, I was excited. A perfect location for a perfect occasion, I thought.

We applied for tourist visa at the Swiss Embassy and thought our application will sail through. Of course, we did get the visa – but not before facing some nervous moments. The embassy guys wanted our marriage pictures before giving visa and we were supposed to leave just two days after the marriage. Thankfully, we got the visa a day before our flight. And, here I was on Emirates flight that took off from Ahmedabad international airport in the wee hours of June 22, 2011. Me and Nidhi (my wife) were very excited. Instead of opting for a group tour, we had decided to explore Switzerland and Dubai on our own. Once we landed in Dubai, we to travel and survive on our instincts.

It was about 8 in the morning when we landed at Dubai international airport where we had to spend three hours before boarding a connecting flight to Zurich. Must I say that I was dazed with the sheer enormity of the airport that seemed like a centrally air-conditioned mini-city. Hundreds of boarding zones, dozens of diversions and number of checking in counters. One had to keep eye on instruction signboards constantly to stay on right track. Nidhi was very hungry and so the first thing we had to do was change currency notes from dollars to dirham. Thankfully, the airport has plenty of currency exchange counters. A 100 dollar note was converted into dirham and our hungry stomachs took us to a Mc Donald’s restaurant. Nidhi being strictly vegetarian, we started looking for veg options.

There was only one – veg burger L. I shelled out some dirham notes and asked the guy on the counter to count them as I didn’t quite understand the currency. One thing I learned immediately was – never convert foreign currency into Indian rupees or you will die of stress attack. One dirham is equal to 12 Indian rupees. We bought two burgers for 28 dirham that when converted into Indian rupees made Rs 140 for one small burger J.

While munching on the veg cheese burger I looked around and saw that I was surrounded by people from almost every country of the world. Right from Chinese, Sri Lankans and Pakistanis to Europeans, Americans and Africans. I felt like the airport was one big global family. Not even for a moment we felt alienated as people around us were very helpful. Even if they didn’t understand English, they would give us directions in sign language and with a warm smile. The brief stay at the airport was very engaging and thrilling.

We took a round of the airport, did some window shopping and headed to the Emirates flight that was waiting to take us to the heaven on earth – Switzerland.

Honeymoon Travels… (The journey begins)

When I saw Dilwale Dulhaniya Le Jayenge during my college days, there was one thing I fell in love with apart from the movie’s songs and Kajol. The scenic landscape of Europe – especially Switzerland. The green country side and beautiful wooden houses always fascinated me. I had dreamt of touring Switzerland ever since. So when my fiancée – now wife J – suggested Switzerland as our honeymoon destination, I was excited. A perfect location for a perfect occasion, I thought.

We applied for tourist visa at the Swiss Embassy and thought our application will sail through. Of course, we did get the visa – but not before facing some nervous moments. The embassy guys wanted our marriage pictures before giving visa and we were supposed to leave just two days after the marriage. Thankfully, we got the visa a day before our flight. And, here I was on Emirates flight that took off from Ahmedabad international airport in the wee hours of June 22, 2011. Me and Nidhi (my wife) were very excited. Instead of opting for a group tour, we had decided to explore Switzerland and Dubai on our own. Once we landed in Dubai, we to travel and survive on our instincts.

It was about 8 in the morning when we landed at Dubai international airport where we had to spend three hours before boarding a connecting flight to Zurich. Must I say that I was dazed with the sheer enormity of the airport that seemed like a centrally air-conditioned mini-city. Hundreds of boarding zones, dozens of diversions and number of checking in counters. One had to keep eye on instruction signboards constantly to stay on right track. Nidhi was very hungry and so the first thing we had to do was change currency notes from dollars to dirham. Thankfully, the airport has plenty of currency exchange counters. A 100 dollar note was converted into dirham and our hungry stomachs took us to a Mc Donald’s restaurant. Nidhi being strictly vegetarian, we started looking for veg options.

There was only one – veg burger L. I shelled out some dirham notes and asked the guy on the counter to count them as I didn’t quite understand the currency. One thing I learned immediately was – never convert foreign currency into Indian rupees or you will die of stress attack. One dirham is equal to 12 Indian rupees. We bought two burgers for 28 dirham that when converted into Indian rupees made Rs 140 for one small burger J.

While munching on the veg cheese burger I looked around and saw that I was surrounded by people from almost every country of the world. Right from Chinese, Sri Lankans and Pakistanis to Europeans, Americans and Africans. I felt like the airport was one big global family. Not even for a moment we felt alienated as people around us were very helpful. Even if they didn’t understand English, they would give us directions in sign language and with a warm smile. The brief stay at the airport was very engaging and thrilling.

We took a round of the airport, did some window shopping and headed to the Emirates flight that was waiting to take us to the heaven on earth – Switzerland.

Has anything changed ?

Today, as I sit down to write this piece – rather a clutter of my thoughts – I wonder what has really changed. What has changed after a bunch of terrorists descended on Mumbai and sprayed bullets indiscriminately, killing hundreds of innocents about a year back. Except the lives of kin of those killed and injured in the terror attack, has anything really changed? Our politicians’ attitude, our security system, our police force or government’s attitude? Anything? A two-minute silence in Parliament, usual warnings by our politicians that those responsible won’t be spared, candle light walks and compensation to the kin of deceased and injured. That’s it. Nothing else!

In last one year, I didn’t see any urgency among our politicians or entire government machinery to fight terrorism with iron fist. I didn’t see even any kind of shame in the eyes of our leaders who failed us again. How else can one explain the fact that seven Pakistanis simply walked in the financial capital of our country and spread terror at will? That there was no fear in their eyes while walking on our city roads and killing our top cops. Few misguided youngsters held a nation of over one billion people at ransom. Are we really a free and safe country?

I wonder what gave the terrorists so much courage? Is it the fact that they know that our government will never hit back? Or that Indians lives are very cheap? Or were they sure that our politicians will be too busy blaming each other and Pakistan to take any concrete action against the plotters? May be I am asking too many questions. But, all I can do is ask questions. Cause I want answers. In fact, everyone wants answers, and fast. Right from the Taj Hotel manager who lost his family in the terror attack to the little baby Moshe to the commoners hit by bullets at CST. We want to know why can’t we walk safe in our own country. We want to know why the culprits always go scot-free despite killing hundreds of Indians. We want to know why the politicians move around in Z-plus security even as commoners die in local train bomb blasts.

Will our government or administration be able to save us from such terror attack in future or rather how prepared we are to deal with such kind of situation? Considering the fact that prime accused in Parliament attack case Afzal Guru and Ajmal Kasab, the lone terrorist in Mumbai attack caught alive are still breathing and enjoying all the facilities in our jails, I don’t think we have any hopes. If our leaders had any kind of remorse or, rather, outrage they would have hanged both Guru and Kasab by now. But, here we are. Talking of democracy and justice. And, for whom? For the people who killed and maimed hundreds? Do they really have any human rights? Do we need a trial to prove that Kasab, who was caught on camera spraying bullets, has really killed anyone? Isn’t it a mockery of justice? Or rather a mockery of our entire Indian system in whole.

I just can’t live with the fact that the Indian government has spent over Rs 31 crore for keeping Kasab alive, so that he could be hanged latter! And, why is the government doing all this? To prove to the world that we are a true democracy and justice comes first for us. What a joke! Where was justice when the killer of Jessica Lal was let-off from the court for want of evidence? And when the law finally caught up with him, he got parole and was found in high spirits at a Delhi bar. There was no talk of fair justice when Bollywood star Salman Khan ran his car over few poor labourers in drunken state on Mumbai roads few years back. Or when prime accused in 1984 anti-Sikh riots were made ministers in the UPA government. I can recount dozens of such incidents where the accused were let-off just because they were either rich or influential. If we don’t have any shame in supporting such worthless brats, then why are we ashamed of executing Kasab and Guru. Isn’t it the least that the government can do to give a stern message to the perpetrators of terror attacks, that we won’t tolerate such nonsense? And if anyone tries to harm our citizens, we will not blink an eyelid before executing the attackers?

But here Kasab has liberty to appeal against the fast track court judgement in the high court and latter in the Supreme Court too. And, if the Supreme Court too finds him guilty and decides to hang him, he can put mercy petition before our President. So now you can count the years or decades before Kasab actually gets death penalty for the gory crime he committed. And hilariously, if I may so, our Union home minister P Chidambaram says, “I am proud that Kasab will go through all the legal justice systems before receiving punishment rather than being tried in Kangaroo courts.” Don’t know whether to laugh or lament over such statement!

High time that the Land of Mahatma takes a lesson or two from Ramayana where Lord Rama too didn’t hesitate to pick up weapons and declare war against the demons so that the world could live in peace. After all, the great Mahatma too was a firm believer of Lord Rama. All that I and millions of Indians want is a safe life. Safety when we dine in our restaurants, stroll on city roads and travel by public transport systems. Safety when we watch movies and shop. Is that too much to ask? Ask any politician and he may probably say, yes!

Finally on Track !

Having written hardcore business stories for months together, it was very awkward to start writing on crime, legal cases and civic issues for first few weeks. I used to be at loss of words while writing stories for my newspaper. Sometimes I kept thinking about the intro or text for hours and hours. I somehow managed to write few Tsunami stories with the help of some media friends.

But, it was tough handling crime and court stories with no one around to guide me. Things were all the more tough but very exciting as I had to cover one of the most prestigious legal cases related to a royal family. Two brothers were at loggerheads over property worth thousands of crores and it was a two-decade old legal battle that had dragged on and on. The elder sibling had won the case in the apex court in 2005.

I spent hours with the advocates just to know every minute detail about the case before writing about it. I still possess a thick file comprising of legal papers and documents of the battle with me till date. The efforts I put in were worth it as I got several national by-lines for the royal property battle stories.

It was as if everything was falling in place for me. Weeks within my joining the newspaper, the southern Gujarat districts had suddenly become too much happening. Suicides, accidents, court cases, crime incidents and political programmes! My hands were full with stories and I had options to choose the best… :) While rising crime incidents is a bad sign for the society, it gives such a pleasure to journos. Strange na? I grabbed the opportunity with both hands and started delivering the goods.

My first national story was about a strange accident in Surat wherein an entire family died inside a pit dug outside their house. While first it had appeared to be a murder, later it turned out to be death owing to asphyxiation. The family had stored lots of chillies and preservation powder inside the pit for preparing pickles. The younger son of the family entered inside the pit to see whether the chillies were ready for making pickle. He fell unconscious on the spot.

He was followed by his elder brother, father and mother, who all fell unconscious owing to the gases emanated from the chillies. It made an interesting story to read. I followed the story for about a week, before moving over to my next subject. Here, I would like to mention that I had great support of the local Gujarati journos who sat just few metres away from me. Our English newspaper had tie-up with this Gujarati paper for news and office space.

It was fun sitting in my small cabin till late in the night and joking around in the office. After 7 pm everyday, it was a male bastion as all females used to leave by evening. The Gujju journos used to shout at the top of their voices and even used choicest of abuses. Strangely, I loved the buzz around and sometimes I used to join them for fun. I used to rely on them and few friends of mine in Surat for the news from southern districts.

Mincing on the bhajiyas and vada-pav late in the night and sipping on hot cuppa of tea was something I enjoyed. Slowly but surely, I had started settling in the exciting world of news where every day is a new day. However big story you break and gather appreciation from all quarters, the next day you are as good as a fresh journo scouting for new story. I would now share some of my experiences in on-field reporting and how they changed me as a person…

Home Coming !

I left the business newspaper midway after I learnt that my fate was hanging in balance there. Having handed over a short term contract of just few months initially, I was promised that it would be extended up to a year later. I believed in it and signed the papers.

However, later I learnt that they were going to continue extending my contract for 2 or 3 months for next one year. Reason? Even I didn’t know. I tried to find out through my sources and learnt that it was their administrative decision.

I decided to put in my papers and move on instead of working in such ambiguity. It was a tough decision but I didn’t want to continue at a place where I was not enjoying my work. Phew! You might think that his stupid boy has some problem. Where ever he works, some or other trouble is waiting to happen! Even I had started thinking the same way that I am a Problem Child!

Having packed my bags from the alien city I never managed to fall in love with, I landed back in my cosy and warm town. Aahaa… the same old roads, banyan trees sprinkled over paths at every few kilometres, my favourite M S University, the Kala Ghoda Circle, the Dairy Den Circle tea stall, Raj Mahal Road and the green little garden in backyard of my house.

It was such a nostalgic feeling that I cannot explain. Whoever said that we don’t realise the true value of things and people around us till the time they go away was very true. I never bothered to look around at these trees, the sky above, Laxmi Vilas Palace, the Vishwamitri River and as a matter of fact, even my neighbour! But, months after staying away from home, I suddenly was in love with all of it again!

It was as if I had been away for years. At that moment I realised how sensitive person I am. The feeling remained for next couple of weeks until the realties of this cruel world dawned upon me! Naukri ka kya? “Ghar par baithkar kya chidiya aur kabootar dekhta rahega,” chirped my mom. She was always worried about me as any normal mom would.

My elder bro, who was working for a multinational company, too would take me to task sometimes for leaving the Ahmedabad job. But, somewhere within I was sure that I would find a job that would help me realise my true potential.

And, here I would like to mention a famous dialogue that came out from the mouth of King Khan ala Shahrukh in his blockbuster movie Om Shanti Om. “Jab kisi cheez ko dil se chaaho to saari kaaynat tumhe usse milaane mein jut jaati hain” (When you wish for something from your heart, the whole world conspires to get you that thing).

It literally happened with me when a post for south Gujarat correspondent sprung up in a national newspaper and I was quick enough to grab it with both my hands. It wasn’t a very big achievement but had a very significant impact in my life.

I was bit worried, though, about my new venture as national newspaper had very negligible presence in Gujarat. I didn’t have much expectation from this paper owing to my prior experiences I joined there as I was getting good job profile.

Two months after opting out from Ahmedabad I had managed to land in a small but my very own cabin at my new workplace. I was given a computer equipped with internet, a telephone and file of newspapers. I didn’t have to even go through any interview as the editor just considered my prior experience and let me in!

I was supposed to cover entire south and central Gujarat for the newspaper and it was quite a responsibility for a person of my experience. I wasn’t sure how I would handle it but was confident enough to give it a try. So I took over the small cabin in December 2004 and dialled the first number to one of my good source for a Tsunami story.

Ahmedabad blues!

Despite absence of much excitement during my days at the business newspaper in Ahmedabad, some moments were very eventful. Everything was so new for me. The city, the roads, the culture, alien faces and sleeping on a sofa in a two BHK flat on second floor of an apartment.

A person, who had never slept before watching television for nearly two decades, had to close his eyes listening to FM Radio. I just couldn’t sleep properly for first few days. But, things started improving when I started finding good stories and developed confidence that I can deliver.

My first few visits to some banks and companies were completely unproductive as I couldn’t extract any information worth writing. However, my single visit to Gujarat Industrial Development Board (GIDB), one fine day, was enough to boost my morale. I got an exciting story on a public transport project that was to be implemented in Ahmedabad. The project was in planning stage and I got the privilege to break the story.

There was a disadvantage though that the newspaper I worked for didn’t have any Gujarat edition. So, my stories were read in Mumbai and Delhi…

The first good story, which I thought was worthy enough, was on co-operative banks sector. I worked on a story related to Madhavpura Bank that had gone bust. The Centre had decided to infuse hundreds of crores of rupees in this and other co-operative banks to revive it. I had hard time getting information as no one was ready to divulge any detail. But, I persisted and got good results in the end. The story was published and my boss, who seldom appreciated our work, smiled at me and said ‘Good Work’.

It was so nice listening such words from a person who rarely said encouraging things. Boss even gave me free passes for a Bollywood movie whose premiere was to be screened in Ahmedabad. I was on the moon that day.

But, as luck would have it, there was a huge showdown between the journalists and event managers of the premiere show in a five-star hotel and our community decided to boycott the screening. I was so upset, but couldn’t do anything except return home and listen to the same stupid FM songs. But, after that day I started delivering stories on commodities market, co-operative sector and infrastructure.

However, the evening torture of almost half-an-hour every day continued. Our boss never left a single opportunity to blast us and even swear at us sometimes. Whenever I used to visit boss’s cabin I used to feel like a soldier who marches towards battlefield with very few hopes of returning back!

Amidst all these rush however, there was one place that used to serve as a stress-buster for me. A tea-kitli opposite, well, world-famous management institute IIM-Ahmedabad! What better place to munch on bread and samosas than this kitli.

Sitting on that small iron boxes by roadside and surrounded by some intellectual management students was something that gave me a high. A maska-bun loaded with butter and a cup of hot tea was my daily breakfast for months together. There was hardly any day when I didn’t visit that place.

But, is there any better than your home? At least not for me. I missed my home and homemade food terribly. The horrible kind of food dished out by some restaurants in Bodakdev area made me miss homemade roti and subzi all the more… And, who would forget those exciting Fridays. When I used to pack my small bag and head for Baroda. My city… Small and beautiful.

The 8.30 pm Lokshakti Express used to take me to my city by about midnight and the next day – Saturday – used to be completely mine. Lots of ‘lazy lamhe’ and talkative evenings with friends. I am in love with Saturdays since then and it continues till this day when I am in Times of India.