Bonne fin d'annee

In other words, happy ending to 2009, and here's to 2010 and a brand new year!!
I am still in Paris. My daughter has a soiree lined up for tonight in the Bois. Of course, she has nothing to wear. And neither do I! The weather has been so bloody beastly, one has to bundle up in layers and layers of clothing. The wind manages to bite through regardless. Plus, the rain. I spent the day in Passy, an upmarket district, one metro stop away from Tour Eiffel. There, amongst all the fancy brands, boutiques and labels was a store called 'Darjeeling'. Why Darjeeling? Was it a tea salon? Main non!! It was a clothing store that had nothing to do with the hill station.
But the newly opened 'I Love Jaipur' section at the very chic and traditionasl Bon Marche had the most fantastic display of products from India, and of course, Manish Arora's funky, eccentric garments were the piece de resistance. I also spotted his wine\champagne covers for Champagne Pommery at Galleries Lafayette. 'Superbe'! as they say in Paris.
Well, I am joining my daughter for a Taiwanese meal an hour from now. We enjoyed a Korean one last night ( long live Bibimbap!). My older daughter Avantikka has instructed us to get plaid leggings for Arundhati to wear tonight. They are supposedly very 'in'. Wish me luck on my treasure hunt.
And Blogdosts..... let's hang together in 2010. Our friendships are precious and delicate. We are obliged to nurture them.
Have a super fabulous New Year. Blessings from Ma De - my new name for the new year!!
Lots of bubbly....lots of smiles....lots of hugs and kisses....

Life in a Metro..... lost in cyberspace

HELP! All you techno smart blogdosts out there.... please help . I wrote my usual blog a few hours ago and thought i had successfully posted it. but apparently not!! it is out there somewhere. can it be retrieved?? if u find it, pl send it back to me. merci!! it is titled 'Life in a Metro.'

Life in a metro....

My daughter tells me one has to have a 'metro face' in PARIS! That explains all the 'khadus' expressions I see all around me each time I step into one. The corners of the mouth remain resolutely down. And the eyes are dead. This makes women in particular, look most unattractive, especially if they are wearing too much lipstick. like sad clowns. Nobody talks. Nobody smiles. Everybody appears to be strangely preoccupied. In a city this beautiful, especially at this time of the year, when it is at its dazzling best, it seems incongruous that most of the people lack cheer!
we went to the Grand Palais last night to check out what had been created inside that gigantic space which sees major expositions round the year. it was a children's amusement park, with a huge ferris wheel and all those scarey rides. Unreal and surrealistic. But at least the kids were laughing, and there was so much joy in the air. We decided to walk to Cafe de la Paix, one of my all time favourite hangouts.There was a near full moon in the sky, it was a clear, crisp and cold night. But my daughter's brisk pace wore me out!! By the time we got there, I was ready to collapse. Two glasses of Sancerre and a slab of fois gras later, I was ready to go once more.

Love affair with PARIS continues...

Last afternoon, as I greedily grabbed a bit of hazy sunlight and found a table at a Brasserie in the bustling Rue de Commerce, I felt how lucky we are in India - we take our glorious sunlight entirely for granted! Here in Paris, one craves for a bit of warmth - literally and metaphorically!It gets dark by 4p.m. and people's unsmiling faces in overcrowded metros only add to the depression. I have been getting by with my toota phoota french, and find people are generally helpful. The cheerful touches come from musicians who get onto the rain in Santa gear and play classical pieces. Sometimes, I notice the drivers in the cabin wearing Santa caps, and wonder about their lives. The metros are spilling over with tourists, foreigners from distant lands, braving the cold and making the most of this magical destination. The essential French person is hard to find. Right across the street from the magnificently lit Galleries Lafayette, an edgy Japanese clothing store has opened to much applause. UNI QLO is a brash concept - very cheeky and fresh. There are lines of shoppers waiting to get inside. In comparison, the legendary GL looks like a slightly dowdy dowager.
Ditto for a lot of traditional French bistros that have been forced to change their predictable cuisine in keeping with new foodie trends. Last night we went to Le Loup Blanc (The White Fox) to find a swift menu change. I had mustard ice cream as a part of my salad ( imaginative and delicious), and noticed there are many more vegetarian options featured on menus these days. That is great news and means veg guys can order more than just steamed haricort vert ( beans). Tonight we are going to the Grand Palais and then to my daughter's favourite hang out. The night before , we went back to one of my old favourites - La Coupole at Montparnasse. It is like a gigantic French Udipi joint - a huge food hall serving the most wonderful, sensibly priced cuisine. But one of the signature dishes here since 1927 has been the Indian lamb curry!! It was served to us by a Tamilian waiter dressed like a maharajah, who spoke perfect French and gave us an extra dollop of curry!!
Shashi Tharoor, the tweet junkie, is at it again! Good for him. Perhaps Ameesha Patel is helping him??

Paris is a state of mind...

Last night I watched 'Zorro - The Musical' at the historic Folies Bergere, and fell in love with the music of the Gypsy Kings once again. It was an exhuberant and passionate production. How wrong can anybody go with flamenco and fencing, fabulous sets, gorgeous costumes and great singing? No wonder it is such a huge hit in Paris. I followed the plot in bits and pieces, but it didn't matter at all.Diageo and Luisa ki love story kept me enthralled. I even forgot about the cold and was ready to brave the wind chill factor and go in search of dinner. We found 'Toi', after walking in and out of Cafe Chic, which as its name suggests is indeed tres chic.
Earlier, Arundhati and I had changed God knows how many metros and travelled the length and breadth of Paris in search of the perfect Galette de Roi, which is the season's treat and is sold with a paper crown. The trick here is the li'l gift that is baked into the gateau. Kids love it and so do adults. The other X'Mas speciality is the clementine, which is a juicy, tiny orange. Dried figs and marons are two other yummy offerings, along with the classic macaroons ( Pierre Herme macaroons are packaged like haute couture and considered top of the line).
We walk and walk and walk. I have bought a pair of pale blue Uggs, to protect my aching feet. The Grand Palais beckons. There is a cirque inside its imposing interiors. There is also the Dali exhibit, this one featuring the master's work in gold. My darling daughter is being super patient avec moi. Let's hope I don't wear her down.

joyeaux noel from paris!

what could be more appropriate on x'mas eve in paris than attending the 8pm mass at notre dame and being transported to another, far more inspiring zone? i am here to spend x'mas and new year with my daughter. it has been a charming reversal of roles - here is arundhati taking complete charge of my life and time. my instructions are 'not to write' while i am in paris. i don't have the heart to tell her that's like saying, ' not to breathe'. so writing in any form has become a clandestine operation. i write secretely while she is in the shower.but since i am using her mac book, i am slower than usual and fear i'm going to get caught one of these days.
meanwhile, i am struggling to walk around in knee high boots that kill. the wind chill factor will get me if chillbains don't. it is bitterly cold, but the delicious vin chaud sold at street corners can warm up anybody. i love it! as we strolled past some of our favourite haunts on the left bank, sipping wine and chatting about life, i forgot the cold, my frozen toes, all the other nagging problems moms burden their kids with. we were just two women enjoying paris together. mellow and wonderful.
after mass, we went in search of dinner - the heavy police presence around the notre dame was reassuring. but we were hungry and cold, and oblivious to danger. nearly every famliar place was shut or shutting early. but we stumbled upon a real gem , just opposite the george cinq , a little off the champs elysee. an italian restaurant called fendi. it was a brilliant choice buzzing with people in great spirits. over sancerre and sea bass, we bonded some more, before grabbing a cab and getting back to her apartment, where she had generously vacated her comfy bed for me. god bless daughters.
merry x'mas blog dosts.

We all scream for ice cream.....!

Goodness gracious me!! As Peter Sellers might have exclaimed at the hullabaloo over Haagen Dazs and its rather silly ad campaign. To begin with, it’s a pretty lousy ice cream. I mean, I find it lousy, over rated and over priced. Upar se, the brand’s entry into India has raised hackles over the tasteless ad campaign that has since been ‘modified’. Are we really that sensitive as to go ballistic over a cup of a hazel nut and raspberry duo that costs the earth? Come on, guys! That corny line about entry restricted to ‘ international passport holders only’ was exactly that – corny! ALL passports by definition are international, remember? What’s a ‘local’ passport?? It was obviously the brainchild of an immature copy writer taking a shot at being extra clever. Clearly, the ad agency got it all wrong, and now the excreta has hit the ceiling. Various groups have banded together to scream, “ Racism’’ and demand an apology if not an immediate closure of the Delhi outlet. My guess is that the person guffawing all the way to the bank must be the marketing director of the ice cream brand. Without spending an extra paisa, Haagen Dazs has become a pretty well known ( or notorious) national name. How easy was that? If one thinks ‘brand recall’ – well, it doesn’t get any better than this.
They say nothing works as brilliantly as publicity that hammers home a message – regardless of what that message is. Repeated often enough, it sinks into our khopdis and there it stays. After a point, not many people remember why they remember it – but the fact remains, they do! Target achieved. So it might be with the Indian consumer and Haagen Dazs – the ice cream with attitude. The one that cheekily and blatantly discriminates against citizens of the host country by excluding them completely. Whether or not it’s true, people fervently believe the brand was serious about banning Indians from its premiere outlet in Delhi. But common sense should tell us this cannot be so. For one, it is illegal. For another, it’s asking for trouble. Big trouble. At the time of writing, public outrage was beginning to snowball into something major. This may change if something juicier diverts media attention, and bloggers discover a new bete noire. But for now, tweets by the nano second are flying around the world mobilizing opinion against the brand’s provocative advertising that got tweeple into overdrive, tearing into the foolish campaign like it was an American conspiracy to keep desis out and destabilize the region. Which , on deeper analysis makes zero sense – I mean which brand in the world would want to keep its main customers out? That’s as good as committing professional hara-kiri. Haagen Dazs is in India to sell ice cream - tons of it - to Indians. I doubt they’d survive if their client base didn’t go beyond the expats of Delhi. They’re here to make us fat on their gooey ice cream – so, why would they keep us out? Make sense??
Excuse me, what’s all the fuss about in that case? I think it is about our thin skins. We have taken offence ( count me in!) at what is seen as a racial slur, a national insult, a crime. Our izzat is at stake and we shall go to any length to protect it. How dare Haagen- whatever from wherever, come into our country and insult our pride? Would this be tolerated by any other nation? Never. But we are all so bloody phus, these arrogant fellows can walk in here and spit on our face. This is too much! It is time we asserted ourselves and told these people where to get off. Haagen Dazs may claim to be the greatest ice cream in the world, so what? We won’t take their barbs and taunts lying down, either. Oh no. We’ll show them! God alone knows what we want to show them. But right now, we have shown them how hyper we are. By over reacting , we have done the brand a huge favour. And made Haagan Dazs into the Raj Thackeray of the ice cream world. It has become a newer, trendier version of the outsider\insider issue. I have watched various people with considerable amusement condemning the ice cream and swearing not to lick a single spoon. This is crazy, considering what a non-issue it is. Haagen Dazs is to India what sarson- da- saag is to America – an acquired taste. We are used to uncomplicated, simple ice creams – vanilla, chocolate and strawberry ( with and without nuts ). Now along comes this fancy brand at an even fancier price and has us frothing at the mouth instead of salivating. Please guys, think ! Haagen Dazs needs our patronage. We don’t need Haagen Dazs. Geddit?
Jaaney do. The latest controversy has led to a free national awareness campaign that would otherwise have cost the brand a huge amount of money. The ice cream is front page news…and a matter of heated debate across channels at prime time. Fortunately for the brand, there is no George Fernandes around to chase it out of India, the way Georgie Boy had chased out Coca Cola. The naara of patriotism and national pride has been raised ( “Yankees go home!”) by alert watch dogs who spotted the offensive line and started a roaring, country wide controversy in a flash ( long live twitter! ). I heard several Dilliwallas holding forth on national television about the audacity of the brand to demand passports before letting customers into the parlour. Someone pointed out India’s fixation with foreign brands and how Haagen Dazs was cleverly cashing in on our weakness by establishing its ‘exclusivity’ and creating an edge over competing products. Frankly, I think the whole hoo- hah is a load of humbug. Indians are bored at the moment. Apart from Sehwag’s performance, there is very little action to distract our attention. Strange that an ice cream brand that chose to launch itself during winter, is generating so much heat. It makes me recall a childhood ditty most of us have repeated at some point : I scream, you scream, we all scream for ice cream. Only this time, we are screaming to throw one particular one out. Chalo – throw it out. But then you’ll have to start looking for a substitute rightaway. We desperately need something\someone to fill the vacated spot. It is called ‘the flavour of the season.’ Right now, the flavour is a bit too bitter for anyone’s taste. Haagen Dazs, hai hai! Kulfi, zindabad!!
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About the picture.... it was taken near the famous graffiti wall across Bondi Beach. This is where spray can artists make their name and attract a fan following that can elevate them to overnight cult figures. I am standing in front of a portrait of Chloe - the young Aussie girl who was swept away by the tsunami while she was holidaying in Bali. At least, that is what Marina, our lovely escort in Sydney told me. I was most touched by this memorial and tribute. What a lovely way to remember....