How I Made an Odia Friend in Stockholm Out of Nowhere

It had only been a few months since I moved to Stockholm from Bangalore, along with my husband. Autumn had just ended and it was the onset of the ruthless winters, as they call it, what with the temperatures dropping to -20 degrees on certain days while the standard temperature locked between -10 and -15 degrees Celcius. We were thankful if the temperature reached anywhere between -2 and -5, it felt warmer. Anything above -2 is an almost impossibility between December and February. But I am deviating…

So it was on one of these freezing wintry mornings in December that I randomly saw a post on Facebook which said a group of students from Lund University are working on an assignment on Bridgerton (the book-turned-Netflix series) and would like to interview a few South Asian women on their take on the colourblindness portrayed in the second season of Bridgerton. Naturally, I was interested and volunteered myself for the interview.

A few days later, a certain girl drops me a message for an interview and I accept. We have an interesting and long interview followed by a chat about the series in question. Over the course of our conversation, I found out that she was also from my hometown, Odisha. And of course, the joy of finding a person from back home, so far away from home, in an alien land is unparalleled! We exchanged numbers and promised to catch up when we were in the other’s town. (FYI: She lives 5 hours away from Stockholm).

Months later, in July, she sends me a text saying she is in town and would be glad if we could meet. I was excited! It seemed like ages since I had been out with a friend who I have not met through my husband. We decided on a day and I could hardly wait in anticipation!

On D-day, I met her at a certain point and we went to shop for some second-hand books. While we were browsing, a Swedish guy comes up to us and started saying something to my friend in Swedish, like he is pointing at something. She asks if he wanted one of the books she was holding, but no! He had just walked up to us to give a shy compliment to the top she wearing, “Nice colour. I like the flowers on it”, he said coyly and then quietly walked off, leaving us staring at each other in shock. Come to think of it, as Indians, such a gesture never happens back home, somebody walking up to simply compliment you, that is. But once we were out of the initial shock, we smiled at each other saying how sweet the gesture was. It certainly made our day and, more so, hers!

Happily, we purchased our books, had an Indian chicken roll, and since it was a bright sunny day, I took her to this lovely place by the lake to enjoy the view and a good walk. Not everyone is a nature person but this girl is a nature’s baby through and through. It was charming to watch her go gaga over a lonely cottage in the distance, the ducks swimming in the water, the wildflowers around us and all the tiny details that the majority of us would have missed.

Normally, I am a semi-introvert and can get quite worked up before meeting someone alone, especially a new person, and I felt the same about this meeting. But, upon meeting her, I realized she instantly puts you at ease and shares almost the same interests in life. I made a good friend that day, and in what way! Glad to have all the experiences that life is throwing my way, almost every day.

The Un-romanticized Version of Moving Abroad

When it comes to moving abroad, especially as an adult, what nobody will ever tell you is the fact that it is tough. It is difficult enough for people moving for jobs or studies. And here I was, moving with my husband, at the ‘tender’ age of 30-plus-something, leaving my job, and basically everyone and everything I knew, behind.

Starting a new life in a different city is not easy. Imagine what it would be like, to move to a new country altogether, where even the photocopy (Xerox) shop doesn’t work like how we are used to. As an adult, making new friends and acquaintances is not a cakewalk. And to me, a self-designated ambivert, it was no different either. Let me tell you something about my experience of moving from Bangalore to Stockholm.

Our journey:

We had been sentenced to a 20-hour journey (which got extended to a good over 35 hours; I will tell you how) to Stockholm from Bangalore via Abu Dhabi and London (the rest of my husband’s team members got a 12-13-hour flight schedule). We got only an hour to change our flight from Abu Dhabi to London. Only a miracle would have got us on that flight on time. And as luck would have it, we landed in Abu Dhabi at 8am instead of 7, just as our ‘preordained’ flight to London took off.

Thus started an unending wait for our next flight. We were redirected to Stockholm via Zurich (I must say I was disappointed. I was really looking forward to that 8-hour halt at the London airport) for a 3am flight the following morning. So now we had nearly 24 hours to kill.

Since it was not our fault that our flight got delayed, thus resulting in our missing the onward flight and so on, we were to be offered bedding and lodging by the airlines, according to airline regulations. Here we were given two options: either pay a certain amount for visa-on-arrival to get your visa immediately and check in at the hotel (Ramada, no less!), or wait for an indeterminate time while the embassy gets your visa ready, and THEN get to the hotel. We opted for the latter and decided to while away our time at the Abu Dhabi airport. It took them a good 7 hours for them to give us our visa which would otherwise have taken only minutes, if we had paid (wink, wink).

We finally got our visas about 6 hours later, at around 2 pm, and we were bundled off in style by the airport employees/officials/drivers to the Ramada, Abu Dhabi no less!!! After enjoying a hearty buffet (lunch and dinner were free!), and dipping ourselves in a hot tub, we lay down for a short siesta till midnight when the driver would come to pick us up for a ride back to the airport.

Two hours later, at around 6pm, we decided to venture out for a short walk. This was to prove to ourselves, that we did visit a new country, no matter how brief the stop. It was really hot and humid and without incidence.

We waited in our room for our airport pickup after dinner (the free buffet, remember?). And, oh yes, we did make a group of friends in this manner. It so happened that some 6-7 other people had missed the same flight that we did! Some things do happen for our good!

Anyway, the ride back to the airport and the flight to Zurich were uneventful. We planned to watch a movie on the flight but ended up sleeping the whole way instead (hola jetlag!). At Zurich, we took the 2-hour flight to Arlanda airport (Stockholm), the last leg of our journey.

So, finally, after a 35-hour journey, we finally landed in Sweden! Whew! And from there started a series of ups and downs of trying to adjust to a new country, its different food, climate and basically different everything! It was a brand-new start and not always a pleasant one. I have my share of experiences for you all to read and make note of. Tune in for more…

How a tulsi plant proved that the world is a really small place...

A Festival Dedicated to the Largest Chariot on the Move!

Scandinavia’s Biggest Chariot Festival in Stockholm!

Rath Yatra, the car festival of India is very close to the hearts of all Indians. It is a unique event that is nothing like anything you have ever seen! This is one festival that is celebrated on a large scale in every part of India. Be it Mumbai, Ahmedabad, Delhi, Bangalore, no matter the place, people come together to celebrate the 9-day journey of Lord Jagannath and his siblings.

What is Rath Yatra

Do you know what is Rath Yatra? With three huge chariots housing each of our three deities being pulled by hundreds of devotees from one temple to another, this car festival is a treat to the eyes!

In July every year begins the 9-day sojourn of three deities Lord Jagannath, his sister Maa Subhadra and his brother Lord Balabhadra to the Gundicha temple and back. While the onward visit is called the famous Rath Yatra, the return journey is called Bahuda Yatra. Read more on the reason behind this journey.

– It’s Significance and the Story

King Indrayumna was an ardent devotee of Lord Vishnu and wanted to build a temple in his honour. Not knowing how to go about it, he prayed to Lord Brahma to guide him on the right path. Lord Brahma appeared before him and suggested that he must seek advice and blessings from Lord Vishnu for the best solution.

After a long bout of prayers, Lord Vishnu appeared in the King’s dream and told him to get a log of neem wood from Bankamuhana. Once the king had sourced the wood from the said forest, now he faced the problem for the right person to craft the idols. Any carpenter who set to the task could reach nowhere as their instruments kept getting stuck or broken on touching the neem wood. The king was now in a quandary.

One day, as he was sitting in this forlorn state, he received a visitor by the name of Ananta Maharana. Disguised as an artist, he was none other than Lord Vishwakarma, the architect of the Gods. He offered to make the idols on condition that he won’t be disturbed till his work is complete. The king agreed.

Now Vishwakarma started his work inside a closed room with all the doors and windows closed. You could hear the sounds of work getting done from the outside. The work continued for a long time. Months passed, and people started getting curious. One day, no sounds came from inside the room. The silence continued for the next few days.

Out of curiosity, the King and his sister opened the door to the room. They saw that the idols were partially prepared with only the head and torso, and no hands and feet. On seeing the King, Vishwakarma got angry. He said that since the former has broken his vow, the work would remain incomplete. Saying this, he left. And that is how we came to have our three deities with only a head, torso and two arms each with no hands and feet.

About Rath Yatra - Why is Rath Yatra So Unique

Queen Gundicha was the sister of King Indradyumna, the one who built the Jagannath temple of Puri. According to folklore, Lord Vishwakarma had built the idols of Lord Jagannath, Maa Subhadra and Lord Balabhadra from wood logs at the Gundicha temple. Queen Gundicha was the one who had opened the doors to the room while the work on the building of idols was midway. Seeing this, Lord Vishwakarma left his work incomplete and disappeared.

It is said that after the Jagannath temple was built, the Holy Trinity would visit Gundicha temple once a year for 8 days and make the return journey on the 9^th day.

 

For The Love Of A Son - Jean Sasson

Does everything about a certain 'couple of' countries have to be so extreme? Such wrath, such misogyny, such derogation and such hatred for women just for existing? I am disgusted. Honestly, women are nothing but child bearing machines? No identity, no right to live, no right to happiness otherwise? It is okay for them to be beaten, tortured, insulted, mutilated, raped and what not and bear it all. It should be nobody's business. And they can't even break free. There's no law to support them!? Oh God! Did their Allah allow their conscience to write such laws? How come they thought men were so superior and women nothing! I could go on and on, but I am in utter shock upon completing the book. God help me and all those who bear this criminality on a daily basis, and its scary to imagine how many millions of women have been living such lives all their life, hoping and expecting nothing better, no happiness, no smile and dying into oblivion...just like that! Disgusted! Shattered! Shocked! Angered!
FYI: Had I been a citizen in any of these countries, I would have been beaten and murdered for my thoughts, and they would have said, it's perfectly alright. She was only a woman, after all.

Where or When - Anita Shreve

What is it about love that can't be controlled? Is it just the hormones, or emotions running deep? If love matters so much, then is love right even when it stands to break existing families, separating children? What is important?
This book reminded me slightly of Kabhi Alvida Na Kehna, where you stand to question the idea of fidelity. They say, if you are not happy with somebody, then there is no point continuing in a loveless marriage. And if you find true love elsewhere, even if both parties are married, what about then? This book left me with unending questions...

When The Moon Is Low - Nadia Hashimi

Imagine a sky filled with lights and crackers, the atmosphere rife with pollution and dust. Only, the lights are not from crackers, but rocket attacks. This is no wedding scene that you might imagine, but war-ridden Kabul with the onset of Taliban which made mere thriving itself impossible on a daily basis. Imagine how would it feel to feel imprisoned in your own city, in your own home, where the laws kept changing, and the ones you followed, or grew up following, were never right. The consequence of each misdemeanor being death. Imagine a life where nothing you ever do is right.
Kabul is described as lush and beautiful by people before the Russian invasion. After that, everything is just drab, myriad and full of destruction. In come the Taliban, as a seemingly welcome messiah, but that was not to be. They made even breathing impossible. Is staying put and hoping it would go away the solution? Or running away, which is nothing less than walking on a bridge of fire... It seems impossible to me to imagine surviving in such a situation. Afghan stories always render me shocked...

Coming Round the Mountain - Ruskin Bond

A 30-year old woman (girl) still reads Ruskin Bond, devours any of his books that come out, pre-orders them even. It is clear the books are meant for a younger crowd. However, she has grown up reading him all her life, so now is no different.
Mr. Bond never fails to keep you hooked. His autobiographical style of writing keeps us all enthralled and the 3-decade-young woman would like to recommend this, and any of his books, to readers throughout.

Th Art of Hearing Heartbeats

What is a love story? What comes to your mind when you think of love? Is it a passing infatuation which changes with time? Or is it something you want to keep under your closed fists? Is love about control and how much time we spent with each other? This book describes itself as a love story but could not be far from it. Encumbered by unfathomable amounts of patience, decades and decades of longing, a whole life gone by without that person beside you. Can trust exist without communication? Can love thrive even if the two people in question are not there to experience it? So many questions and such awe all in one book... One must read to realise if all their questions can be answered, or not...?

Imaginary Happiness

I had hopes of an open breeze,
Of dreams unleashed, of happy feet.
I had dreamt of satisfying freedom,
Of open breaths and overwhelming clarity.
I had wondered how life would be,
Next to you, sans daunting severity.
I had imagined a life of bliss,
Of happiness and serenity.
What I got was naught as planned,
Of becoming a thing to be despised.
There's a field and I am blind,
Have to walk but I can't see.
Within me there was love immense,
Yet life works not in that sense.
Losing hopes and sanity again,
Running out of mustered confidence.

One Half From The East

Ever had your identity questioned? Just imagine, how might it feel? What happens when a 10 year girl wakes up one day to everybody calling her a boy. She is forbidden from believing otherwise. Bacha posh, as is popularly known in Afghanistan, is a 'tradition' in which one of the daughters is made to dress up and behave like a boy. This is supposed to bring good luck, and the next child born to the family will be a boy. But what happens to the bacha posh when she is asked to return to becoming a girl? Has anybody ever considered the mental trauma the child will have to experience? Amazingly written. Reminds me of Khaled Hosseini.

Manikarnika - A must watch

A fresh face for historical genre. Our minds had resigned to the fact that probably Deepika Padukone will be the only warrior princess turned maharani in every historical movie we see. But thanks to Manikarnika, all that's changed now. Kangana, at first glance, given her history of movie selections, would make you dubious about her role as Rani Laxmi Bai. But ten minutes into the movie, she will have you get goosebumps, and before you know it, you are glued to your seat, asking for more. Even the interval lights seem like a disappointment. You would wish an interrupted watch. More than satisfied with her role, and the way the whole story turned out. Must watch indeed!

Eleanor and Park - Rainbow Rowell

This book just ended! Oh God! Why did this book have to end? If this book were a down comforter, I would lie down in it all day. I would love to come back to it after a long, tiring day and hide within its folds and fall asleep holding it close. It's warm, its cost, it's all things good.
Goodness! Biting my nails off! What did she say? What were the three words? I did not want to let go. What a book, after such a long time!

Portuguese Irregular Verbs - Alexander McCall Smith

Picked this up at the used books sale because I am a big time fan of the author. They say books say a lot about the writer. However, McCall Smith has chosen to go beyond the obvious and change tack in this one. Extremely hilarious, rantings about a certain von Igelfeld.
Apart from the part where describes Indian names, and the sad state of Goa (I was deeply saddened by the inappropriateness - what kind of Punjabi name is Janiwandillannah Krishnamurti Singh!!! Preposterous!), the book gave me a Wodehouse-ean feel. Well written.

Railonama - Anupama Sharma

Train journeys hold a lot of nostalgic memories for the people born in the early eighties and before...To the rest, the world had already become a fast-paced place where speed was the order of the day. Traveling by train, with families, as children, and then later, with friends on that first journey to college or the first study-tour or solo trip away from home...all that fills the mind with myriad stories, some of which are etched in our minds, some that we might have forgotten. However, the feeling remains. The heady smell of trains, the people who travel with you, the butterfly feeling in the pit of your stomach just before the start of your journey, everything just adds to the fun...

Railonama is a collection of such stories collected from various individuals sharing the experience which stayed with them across the years. Through this book, we get to relive that journey with them...

Claimant

Like an answer to my unsaid prayer
Like a burst of fresh breeze
Like a relief to weary feet
Like a sparkle of hope
Shimmering on the horizon
You stepped in uninvited
Made yourself at home
Like you belonged here all along
And claimed me for your own.

Heads You Win - Jeffrey Archer

How far how can you go for power? How far can you flee from people who are willing to go to the ends of the of world to have you killed?
A teenager's life changes under power-hungry Russian dictatorship from where he had to flee with his mother after his father was murdered. Possible alternatives. Where does he land? What life does he see? Can we experience a butterfly effect here? A story which will make your head spin, and how!
Can you live your life achieving success, great success, but in the back of your mind, the fear of the KGB catching up very fresh in the mind. Can you live a similar life full of terror? How would it all end? Who is the friend, and who the enemy? Wonderfully crafted into a web promising to encompass you into its fold. Who do you trust?
Archer has split the story into two possible alternatives and brought it all together in the end to give the reader goosebumps for a long time after.
Archer at his usual best. Although the book gave me the feels of Clifton chronicles, the man is master of his own trade. Gripping, and a real page turner. One of the rare books which will keep you awake the whole night, and the next day, if you haven't finished reading it yet. 

Career of Evil - Robert Galbraith

What if somebody derived pleasure off murder? What if killing somebody became a fetish? What if that fetish doubled up with framing somebody you absolutely hate? Would you risk yourself getting into such a situation? Is the hate worth destroying your whole life over? And what if that somebody turned out to be ex-army, ex-boxer and a highly skilled detective? Welcome yourself into the labyrinthine world of murder, thrill and deceit. Good lucking finding whodunnit...

It Was Meant To Be

They were friends since high school. It was not love at first sight. They became good friends with time. Love blossomed gradually in her, only she didn’t realise it.

One day, he introduced his best friend to her. The best friend fell in love with her, and as is obvious, expressed his love to her. Only not directly, but through a card, which ‘he’ came to hand over to her. That’s when she realised she hoped it had been him, and not the best friend, who meant those three words written on the card. She, of course, returned the card, with a firm no and deep disappointment.

They finished high school. Nobody said a word. They went their ways. She studied graduation and he went abroad. They lost touch. She found somebody in college. A couple of years later, when he returned home, one day he came to meet her. She was elated, yet nervous. She was surprised she still felt for him the same way. Yet again, she could not say a word. She was already with somebody else. Moreover, she was sure he did not feel the same. Why else would he have acted as mediator to his best friend all those years ago?

However, they talked for a while, and then he went his way. Later, she received a text from him expressing how he enjoyed talking to her and claiming his love for her. He explained how he could not profess his love all those years ago as he had to respect his best friend’s feelings and did not want to get in the way (typical Bollywood style). She read the text elated, scared, nervous. She was already with somebody, and this seemed like cheating. She blocked his number. They again lost touch for a couple of years.

Time went by; she had now completed her studies and was working with a media company. One fine day, she came across his profile on social media. With trembling hands, she sent him an add request. He accepted it almost immediately. They exchanged numbers and began talking. The talks just would not end.

Heaven only knows what they talked about but you could see her on the phone all the while chatting, giggling, and talking to him. He made her happy like no other. Yet there was one complication. She was still with the guy from her graduation days. So neither he nor she made an initiation about their feelings from years ago, which was still very much existent. Yet they could not stop talking to each other.

However, there was this niggling feeling inside her that she was probably cheating the guy she was with. She had to confront her feelings and figure out what was happening to her. She decided to speak about this to ‘him’. He was her best friend. He always meant well for her. He would suggest something that was good for her.

It was also time to confront her feelings about which she had never done till date. But how could she break this news to her boyfriend? How could she hurt him by saying that she was in love with another guy, and had been so for the last so many years? Nevertheless, she could not stay with one person and love another. Mustering all her courage, she confronted him. Things ended on a bitter note, but they ended nonetheless.

It was finally time to tell ‘him’ how she actually felt about him. He had no idea. He was in a different city for the week. She tried his number. The call went to voicemail. She tried contacting him for the next few days, but could not. Now she was extremely worried. A few days later news reached her through a common friend that ‘he’ had been through an accident, and suffered severe injury to the head, and was admitted in the hospital. She rushed to meet him. When she saw him, covered in all those bandages, her heart went out to him. She went closer, sat next to him, and called out his name. He opened his eyes, looked into hers, but there was no recognition whatsoever.

The doctor later informed her that the brain injury had led to complete memory loss, and he remembers nothing apart from the first five years of his life. She was shattered. How could she have let him be away from her for so long? This was meant to be...

Things don’t always turn out the way we expect them to. Yes, this was exactly how it was meant to be....

Of Late Nights and Hangovers

It was 4 am. I had a flight to catch at 5.30. With minimal traffic, I could still make it on time. Understandably in a hurry, I rushed out of my apartment, into the lift, and pressed the ground floor button. But as luck would have it, the lift ground to a sudden stop only a few minutes later. 

Affording little time to lose, I pressed the emergency button, as one would do in such a situation. There was no answer. The security guard, it seemed, had had a long night like myself. I reached out to my phone, but as is inside a lift, there was no signal. I tried to calm myself. I could still get out of this situation unscathed. After a few uselessly achieved meditative seconds, I started banging on the lift door. Stupid, I know. But what else could I do? I was only hoping against hope that somebody, on that particular floor, might have come out of their apartment for a 'really early' morning jog. Obviously, there was no answer. Luck seemed to never touch me.I started sweating and feeling nauseous. That's when I remembered, I was claustrophobic as well!

Just as I had started losing hope, I heard somebody yelling back at me at the other end of the door. Bingo! Somebody was awake! From the shrill shrieking, the voice seemed to belong to an old lady who seemed to want to help, but lacked the presence of mind to actually go and call somebody - the security personnel, per se. After what seemed like millennia of back and forth yelling, I passed out, thanks to my claustrophobic self.

After sometime, I came to to the sound of the yells. I was jerked awake, only to find that it was no woman yelling, but the sound of my alarm going off. Whew! It was only a dream. The time on the clock said 3.30 am. I still had time. Heaving a sigh of relief, I woke up and got ready. I rushed out of my apartment, got into the lift and pressed the ground floor button. With only a few minutes to spare, I could still make it on time. No reason to panic. After a few minutes, the lift ground to a standstill. Shit just got real....

The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society

More than your quintessential war-time love story. Pulled together by the love for books, across from two different parts of England, one being London, and the other an island on the Channel. A connection which otherwise would never have happened, had it not been for the love of books. Serendipity in the real sense. A man writing a letter to the owner of a book he loved so much, just because he found her address on it. A kind of chivalry which seems missing in present day society. Not to ignore the pain that is brought about by war-time destruction, leading to deprivation, starvation and loss of life and loved ones. To hold on to one's sanity at such times of hopeless bereavement which seems to have no end is an extremely difficult thing to do. In times of frustration, people do anything to hold on to the last shred of dignity and serenity. That's what the people of Guernsey did, by making up a book club, just so they can come together to share whatever little ounce of happiness they were able to muster through, meagre amounts of food acquired through 'unlawful' means, hidden from the Germans and what not. Amongst all this, a sudden blossoming of love comes as a welcome change like a fresh shower of rain. A must read and a welcome change to everyday romance which will change your perception of reading and romance all together.