A Musical Treat

A gifted singer. One of the most sensual yet powerful voices that I have ever heard.

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Where is the party?

I was waiting to get on the train to Turku to catch a boat to Stockholm. I had half an hour to kill, so was just wandering about when I came across this.

Ladies and Gentlemen, presenting the Chemical Toilets. The way it works is, when people want to organize an outdoor party to enjoy the sunny day, they setup stalls for food and stuff. They also call in the chemical toilets people who install this so that you can enjoy the outdoor party without doing chee-chee on the environment around you.

Of course, after some time these chemical toilets get kind of unbearable. However, I think there is some potential for this in India. The next generation Sulabh anyone?

Anyway, upon seeing this, I guessed that a fair or party of some sort must be going on nearby. I came across what could have been an impromptu performance by the Finnish Royal Orchestra. It was superlative and it piqued my interest in Western music. Any suggestions on pieces I must listen to? Also, does anyone happen to know anything about this gifted singer?

(Note 1 to self: Too much pondy and toilet talk. Must clean up act henceforth)

(Note 2 to self: Must sing paeans about the Exchange (Erasmus) program at Helsinki School of Economics (HSE). Anyway, if you are looking to go on an exchange program, I strongly recommend the Helsinki School of Economics as a place where there is a good balance of fun and academics. More later!)

The Dying Lion at Lucerne

A Hero's death

One of the memorials that impacted me deeply was the monument of the Dying Lion at Lucerne, Switzerland. The sculpture of a wounded lion is carved onto a granite cliff.

The expression of the lion is a work of genius! Who can believe that such emotion can be crafted onto emotionless stone. Somehow the sculptor has managed to capture the last few moments before the lion's death in one motionless piece.

The wounded lion lies vanquished in its last few moments of existence, yet one gets the feeling that it was a brave death. Even in this position, the lion's mane gives it an authority and there is a nobility in the face. Is this the elusive hero's death that the epics talk about?

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Epilogue

I spent a few quite moments there, bought a souvenir of this monument and continued my journey. I just knew this to be a monument for Swiss soldiers who died in some battle. I did not bother to find out about the battle.

Today, I stumbled across this link which tells the story of the monument. Apparently, this was a monument built in honour of Swiss Mercenaries who died while defending the French Royalty in the French Revolution!

I was a bit surprised. The monument which affected me so powerfully was intended to honour people who were protecting the "bad guys" of the French Revolution. However, this still does not diminish the artistic brilliance of the monument. I will ignore the meaning and just take the beauty out of this. More importantly, whatever may have been the intention, it is still a fitting tribute to bravery, valour and nobility.

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The Swiss Mercenary Tradition

I was intrigued by the phrase "mercenary tradition". Here is an interesting article on the same.

"For more than 500 years, young Swiss men went out into the world in a controlled military environment at an age when they are quite naturally a little wild," said Anselm Zurfluh, director of Geneva's Museum of Swiss in the World.

"They usually returned calmed down and wanting to work, settle down and have families. I firmly believe this is one reason Switzerland is so peaceful."

:)

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Lucerne

A Snowy Afternoon

I woke up today at 2 in the afternoon and it already felt as if the sun had set. I got up and groggily opened the blinds to my window to be greeted by the following view.


A better view from the window in the common area:

(The blurred image is not due to any of my mistake, the visibility was quite poor. Of course, this is just the beginning and it only gets heavier.)

It was snowing heavily! I usually do not get excited by this, but somehow the presence of snow and the layer of white on everything adds a very different kind of beauty to the whole environment. The whiteness everywhere sets a background against which anything coloirful stands out by contrast. It is as if the whiteness accentuates the little colour that is there. I am looking forward to the view in the night. The light reflecting off the snow seems to make the night brighter!The snow seems to have a "calming effect" on nature and everything grinds to a halt. It is the time of the year when the trees are dead, bereft of leaves.

The leaf-less trees reminded me of a story by O.Henry called the Last Leaf. (Actually Maro reminded me of the story in Amsterdam) I think this story was there in the CBSE English textbook. (It can be read here) The story is about two people, a sick girl and an old painter. The sick girl believes she is about to die and her time would come when the last leaf falls off a tree. The old painter, tired of his mediocre commercial efforts, is still in search of his magnum opus. Obviously, the two characters are connected by the leaf and read the story to find out how. It has a really nice twist.

Anyway, the best thing to do in this weather is to curl up in bed, drink something hot and just watch a lot of movies. This is God telling us humans to pack up and hibernate. Amen to that!

Current Track: The Nowhere Man by The Beatles

Bern, Baby!

The weary traveler strolled about the streets of Berne in an attempt to kill some time before his next connecting train. The journey so far had been amazing and the cherry on the cake had been the Monument of the Dying Lion at Lucerne. The traveler was heading out to a well deserved break in Amsterdam. As he was walking aimlessly, a pang of guilt seized the traveler. Clearly, Switzerland had been the best experience so far, yet he was seeing so less of it. However, did Switzerland have much to offer a la Prague or Paris? In his perception, Zurich and Berne were staid financial centres and the beauty of Switzerland could be best experienced from the train rather than walking the streets of these cities.

The traveler sighed out of tiredness. A puff of vapour went up the air.


It was very cold. He reached out into his pocket and collected whatever remained of his Swiss Francs. They were all in coins and amounted to not more than three and seventy.

He looked about for a Kebap shop. The only kind of shop that would even deal with this amount of money could be a kebap shop. And even there, this money may be good for one coffee. But yes, a coffee would be good.

The traveler’s reveries were interrupted by the haunting sound of a bagpipe. Whoever would play bagpipes in Switzerland? The traveler headed in the direction of the sound. There, by the side of a road, stood a person playing his bagpipes. He was stomping his feet in the direction and the sound of trinkets (salangai) acted as an accompaniment to the music.



The effect of the music was mesmerizing. It would be futile to attempt to capture the beauty of the music in words and the author shall not attempt it. Slowly, a crowd grew around this musician, swaying to the tunes of the bagpipe. If we were the townspeople, he was the Piper. The traveler recollected the story of the piper. Finally, after many years of having heard the story, it suddenly became richer in meaning. The power of the instrument was remarkable indeed and the story was no exaggeration.

The piper played on. The cold did not seem to matter now. The traveler emptied his pockets in genuflection. The destination did not seem to matter now. The first connection to his destination was missed. However, only the moment mattered. It is well said that the best journey has no destination.

Travel Acquaintances

6:45 PM

On the train from Goteborg to Copenhagen

On the ship to Stockholm I met a Finn who works as a bouncer and a Russian electrical engineer who had been on a long trip to India. I forgot both their names, so let us call them Jari, the Finn and Dmitry, the Russian.

I was initially taken aback to see Jari in the room. I said a silent prayer. You see, just outside I had seen 4 “Yo Dude”s and was hoping that no one like that would be sharing my cabin. I had a long bout of travelling to do and getting a sound night’s sleep was a priority. Most travelers on the Turku-Stockholm ferry came for the cruise rather than for Stockholm. The ship is a gigantic amusement park actually. There are decks of amusement, from casinos to discos to saunas and it is more of a let-it-all-out trip. And I did not want anyone in my room to let it all out that night.

I entered my room to see a swarthy guy with tattoos all over his body. However, as these things turn out, he was quite soft-spoken and was keener than me for a good night’s sleep. I must confess to find his behavior a tad disconcerting. He kept looking out of the door, and saying, “Wonder if we are alone”! I was reminded of the tunnel scene from the movie Eurotrip and that did not help! However, in the course of the conversation, I learnt that he was going to Stockholm for a Jujitsu competition and hence did not want any party dudes. I was however eager to learn more about the bouncing profession. But before I could quiz him on how one became a bouncer, the interview process, tips and all that, a most curious person entered.

In entered a short and stout man who started moving about the small space looking to place his bag. Usually, the formality in such occasions (though it is not written in stone, one might add) is to exchange pleasantries with the others sharing the cabin. On the contrary, the new visitor seemed keener to learn the topology of the room. After having placed his bags and coat, he greeted us. I tried not to laugh.

The inventor of the phrase pot belly must have seen Dmitry when he coined the phrase. The man had a properly pot-like belly. He was balding, but he compensated for the lack of hair on his pate with a well groomed beard. His English was not that great. He spoke in broken sentences. But when he realized that I was from India, he immediately took out his passport and showed it to me. He had visited India in 1976. He had visited India as part of a government delegation and had gone to Mathura, Rishikesh, Haridwar, Darjeeling, Kalimpong and Nepal. He spoke in short sentences about those places and to confess I found his manner of speaking more interesting that his experiences. Clearly, he had been on a “Karma Cola” trip, seeing India in clichéd terms. But still, it provided a common conversation point.

I learned that he too had a similar journey schedule like mine, except that he was doing Europe on a bus. Then he started on his dinner and I took out a book. It is really very comfortable traveling on the ship. After some time, I really could not help noticing the concentration with which Dmitry ate his food. He had bought a lot of pre-cooked stuff and seeing him go about using each one was interesting in itself.

After that novelty wore out in five minutes, I drifted off to a dreamless sleep! One does meet all types in the ship!