the first time i went to Europe I was carrying 500 Euros, I had exchanged 30000 Rupees my mother gave me, it was to last me atleast 3 months till I got my next batch of money. This time after more than 10 years of travelling back and forth, I am carrying twice that amount and I am nervous even though I dont pay the rent , my travel or many times for my food. So I sat an hour today recalling how I lived then and devised a great diet plan - no more beer, potatoes - without the fries you save a euro on your food, walk and not take taxis, eat asian food - vietnamese and chinese keeps the gluten out and argubly the best you can get, dont drink coffee rather carry tea bags from India, eat all the meat and drink all the free wine ... when your hot or cold enclose yourself in museums, and try find other Omar Fassatoui s , Cheick Diaby s and Eric Jacques, as well as your friendly Arab Brasserie run by Skander Zitouna. I have though found with success Justine Van De Putte and Chirag Mehta bhai people I havent seen in 10 years. Chirag taught me how to survive cuques, I remember the days we shared 81 square feet, ate boiled potatoes, carrots and sausages, and drank lots of cheap red wine. Chirag only spoke to me in French and at times in Hindi, man how I would hate him, he sent out more than 8000 emails with resumes , and finally got to amsterdam, I remember the night he left, through him I got to know my perpetual partner in crime Victor Mako and Euntae Yeo who we would introduce to girls in the bus as the son of Kim Jung Il. Chirag forced into me the habit of visiting old junk markets where he had gone shopping, there he forced me to pick up works of art from 1 to 10 euros, then Omar made it our every Sunday date, my good were always shown of to Barbara. After Chirag migrated to Amsterdam he called me to come for a holiday I lived like an illegal immigrant in his hotel room for like three weeks, sneaking out at 8 in the mornings and returning only when he returned. The only thing I could afford was the Museumkarten so I went through each and every Museum Amsterdam had. spending hours whiling away time. I returned to tell chirag stories about the museum and my free coffees with the pretty museum attendants. I realised by flirting with the young ones you always got some food and coffee and at times a date. Or I would with the Surinamer Hindoestanen in Bhojpuri and they would invite me home. Chirag told me one day he would like to write a book Amreli to Amsterdam. He was the first to make me realise how the Gujarat model was a just spin of lies, about the lives of young people in Ahemdabad and how much he had done to escape that. I return to those memories , I will be in Amsterdam after 10 years and Gert Wilders.
Posted on: Sat, 23 Aug 2014 11:44:00 +0000
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