On Uzbeks

Uzbeks came a slight surprise to me......
i thought i was going abroad........
abroad to me emant caucasians........as they do to most people living in the warped reality of the third world.......
so when i came out of the airport at tashkent........and was driven to the hostel..........all i saw on the streets were the uzbeks.....
the plan was for me to stay there for 6 years and finish my medicine.......
the city was good.....clean..........but the uzbeks were almost a disappointment.......just because i wasnt expecting them there.......
and it is so easy.......as i sit and think in retrospect now..........to project your misery on an unsuspecting population......whats even more revolting is that the cause of your own misery might be your own ignorance.......and your inability to read about the people and place before you go there......

something that in my later years highly appreciated the russians to be endowed with..........so well read and well aware were the russians of most parts of the world........possibly a result of the communist upbringing and all that........

anyhow.....to get back to tashkent......so there i was........taken to the hostel and dumped there.........for a few days........while my admission got sorted......into the language course and all that......

i distinctly remember being given the room 811........small.......with a funny bathroom with a small square 'bathtub'........which was only ankle deep........no curtains around it.......so it couldnt be a shower........and it stood on high legs above the floor.........unlike a bathtub.......

its nice to go back all these years..........because.......now i realise......we lived there for a year.......and nover got down to solving what was the best way to use that bathtub...........there must have been a way.........that you were expected to shower in it......without spilling a drop........and still be comfy..........i mean i hope there must have been a way.......but i was amazingly so preoccupied with the life of the times........that i didnt think i needed to get to the bottom of this mystery..........then i think to me it must have been more like.......this is what i have got..........improvise and go on...........no time to pause and enquire into its history and make good use of it.........very military survival approach, i had, i suspect.......

i used to wear a turban then with all the regalia of being a sikh.......so i was easily noticed.....and next will be my experience with uzbek food.....

Tashkent airport

it was probably the airport.......clean and pristine.........and it was november when i went......

i was 18......turbaned, bearded, bespectacled, and the world was more eaceful than it was today.......

i had never been outside india, never been on a plane, never been to russia, never known russian, and certainly didnt have a medical degree.....

but i was going to tashkent......ex soviet union.......not russia really......mum was in tears.....dad was okay..........so much uncertainty........and little bit of fear.......much more for them then for me........

its always easier for the one who is leaving...........adrenaline rush.......the 'what going to happen' happenning.........those who get left behind are the ones who suffer........

same old house......same old routine......only one person less.......one life less.....one worry more....that part of the deal really sucks........

oblivious to all that depression,......buzzing with ecitement.........was me at the airport......all set to go......i had too much luggage.......books......noodles.....soaps........for the whole year!!!.......and it was 1994.....

i dont remember anything special about the flight.........it was only 2 hours...........i loved it.......it was awsome ..........the only one thing that puzzelled me was the blue button.....

like all boys filled with intrigue when you see any panel of buttons......there was abundance os such oppotrtunities on the plane.......everywhere there were these clusters of lights and buttons.....and obviously.....they have signs on them...........global village.......languanges dont work......

so i went to the toilet.....and there was a button for everything......if i were from a backward village in orissa.....i would have been overwhelmed by the leap in technology.......but coming from an upwardly mobile class........the buttons/latches were fascinating........

so i got it all.......the latch to the door....connected to the toilet lights......the flush worked by vacuum only with the seat was down........the tap, soap towel etc........all good......

but then there was the blue button.......square......shiny.....translucent.....rich blue..........and it had the face of a girl on it.......

like......the profile of a girl......the hair face and neck.......embossed onto the switch.......in white.......

very interesting.........i didnt dare press it........i couldnt imagine what it was for........and where there is ignorance........myth takes over.......so it had something to do with girls.......so i thought maybe something to do with girlie stuff.........and my knowledge of the female species was at best = microscopic........so maybe connected to the providence of sanitary towels......or other such things.....which i didnt know there were......but maybe there were.......and i just didnt know......

so i just resigned the blue button to a function i presumed i didnt need to know.....so i went back to my seat..........and then all through the flight........i saw the blue button in many places.........some blatantly obviously placed......

only after 2-3 flights did i realise that the girl symbol meant a flight attendant......but anyhow.........we reached tashkent.......and with this mystery in my mind.........i stepped on the tarmac at tashkent airport......