Understanding Eurovision ...

I should have blogged weeks back. But lets just face it, nothing of serious note had occurred (despite consecutive catastrophes at work - which lets just face it - is nothing that morbidly fascinating for the ordinary reader, the few odd sex scandals and Mr Laden going heavenwards. Damn, there actually was quite a bit.)

But today I blog about being part of a rich European traditions that has brought entertainment and warmed the cockles of many a heart for several decades.

The absolutely fabulously monstrously and delectably trashy Eurovision Song Contest. Haven't heard of it? Read here to get a quickie intro from a nicely spelt out Slate article. Established in 1956, each country essentially contributes a song (which is again chosen based on popular voting) which they pit against all the others in a holy yowling contest. By looking at some of the entries, the one thing which is outstandingly clear is that poppy gobbledygook wins out against any kind of actual musical straining, and the weirder the outfits, the makeup and the general 'offering' you present - the higher the chances of you actually winning.

I rest my case.

or of course my favorite who is also mentioned in the Slate article - random Ukranian of indeterminate sexuality, whose silver cone and shades are the fashion dreams of Rajnikant.

So there I was, surrounded by a fairly mixed-ish bunch, all of whom had decided to watch the contest together (it seems to be a rather community exercise) although primarily composed of Germans, who were cheering on one of their own - little Lena, who shot to fame last year with her irritatingly catchy 'Satellite' (I swear - just as much as you want to kill her during the song, you will want to kill yourself for humming it right after ... that is if you're through trying to figure exactly WHAT accent that is)

I found myself the sole supporter of the Italian and Spanish factions, who I thought were fairly funky with a jazz number and a very poppy thing respectively, but of course, I was sneered down by the crowds who didn't think very high of my ratings.

The Italian dude - helped he was kinda cute too :-)

The Spanish contribution - thought it was fairly Livin La Vida Loca Loca ish, but however this WAS not very well received.

THIS was the winning entry from Azerbaijan, a really downright low tempo duet with a random guy and chick who looks like a cross between Beyonce and JLo.

So coming to the point of the post - that is the point of the Eurovision Song Contest. Its kinda like Indian Idol, but where you have to ONLY go through the top 25 songs, they're regionally picked, there's no reality crap, and you have to endure this only ONCE in a year. Sounds fair? I thought so too. And oh, the most important point - government sponsored, so no ads. Phew.

Cheers

Sushma

I am back and all that ...

I am back. Brain, I command you to open and spew all that vitriolic garbage that has been festering inside. Let it out, I say ... let it out!!!

(English translation: Am back in Germany, and plan to unleash my unsolicited views on the world at large - or whoever cares to read ... AGAIN)

So till very very soon.

Adios.

Sushma

On the way, in one day ... (well, almost!)

Not too much occasion to post, but used to always think that my long-ish commute to work (from Kemps Corner to Lokhandwalla) had enough sights that merited a post. So here goes - a picto-post based on my way to work.

My bus-stop view. Start with an eyesore - the Ambani house of hell ... steps to build one - take unevenly matched floors and pile them one on top of each other. Then melt all the spare change in the Ambani's pockets to make a paste which can be used to cement the floors together. And there you go.

Because everyone needs a wall of grass to block out an A-class view. Well done Mukesh, well done.

I never thought they existed. But even desi barbies need their ride - the pink Amby.

The line stretches on from the Mahalaxmi mandir - this was peak Pujo time, so its kinda understandable.

The gorgeous Haji Ali. I think it would easily rank as the most recognizable symbol of Bombay ... especially how it looks on dreary monsoon days.

The day turns grey, and just as you turn onto the Bandra-Worli sealink - you can look back onto this.

On some days, you can barely make out where the sea ends and the sky starts ...

I love this part of the sealink - the steel ropes just remind me so much of the also very nice Howrah bridge ...

"Ghadiyal babu!!!!" :-) Nobody quite does it like AB.

One more ...

Exactly why would a liquor store need a helpline? Umm excuse me ... we need 2 mls of vodka and a tequila drip??!

The Construction Awards - maybe we should send the CWG for any prospective awards ...

Great thought ... "I may be slow, but I am in front of you." Deep.

These two are most definitely not from Bombay :-) this was outside Nice airport ...

... and this was outside at my conference where the Mighty Morphin Power Rangers used their super powers to sponsor a fantastic lunch.

So that's that. Will try updating with more funny road pics as I see them.

Cheers, my friends.

Sushma

Nice Nice.

Its been a week I guess? Or a little lesser for me to put up my next post on nice Nice - but better late than never and more importantly, anyone with functioning eyes will notice a kind of 'similarity' in the pictures. It was a cloudy grey day and combined with the brilliant blues of the Mediterranean - it made a picture that you just couldn't stop taking.

Tell me you don't agree with me ... na? After a little walking around we decided to take the little dinky train that ran around the town (btw which we realized is a staple component of French tourism - tiny little trains that take you around the town at dangerous speeds of 2-3 kms/hr ensuring that you are always the object of much ire from regular Pierres on the road in their fancy gaddis).

Desi restaurant ... I know, I know ... what can I say? The decor just drew my attention ...

The central area of Nice ... loved the checkerboard pavement.

Love the Greco-French-whatever windows? Take a closer look - other than the window, its all paint!

From here, the train ascended to the top of the nearby hillock from where we could get a more panoramic view of the beachfront. Outstanding - I subject you to more pictures.

2 final videos ... one from Cannes again - this was something I found near the train station. For movie history buffs, its a kind of dedication to one of the first 'movies' ever - Train arriving at Station - by the Lumiere Brothers. I checked and confirmed that this wasn't THE station, but it was close enough - South of France and on the waterfront.

This was the view of the entire waterfront from the top of Nice. Simply astounding.

So thats it. I can make a thousand promises to continue my blogging adventures in Bombay, but as my experience has shown ... that seems like a tough-ish bet to follow up on. But anyway, till later whenever - aur revoir and mucho gracias.

Cheers

Sushma

Canned - Euro Part Duh?!

You're right. This blog should be renamed the 'Random Musings of a Mind that is Unemployed only when in the EU Territory' ... but somehow there's this 'ring' about it thats just missing from the title, so just to keep things short - let me just admit that my creative writing juices (if any) flow liberally like the wines at a Bacchanalian 'partay' only when I am not in the city of Mumbai. A sad, undeniable, singularly cognizable and wholly irrefutable fact.

So my office decided that my presence was imperative at a media conference in Cannes (yes - where Ash goes once a year to remind us that she's recognized outside the country as a national symbol of Bollywood) and as any good employee does - I do not argue with my seniors and betters :-) I didn't of course get the 'amount' of touristing done that we would have during our earlier Euro trips, but hey - am most definitely not complaining.

So right - Cannes. I assumed the worst - over-marketed, over-hyped, over-sold and over-glammed. And well, I wasn't that far off from the truth. But wait. Its also one of the most charming examples of Southern French beach beauty, combined with an almost enviable Mediterranean weather and one of the most gorgeous sunsets I've ever seen. Add the fact that it has one cinema-crazy and glamour-struck stretch of promenade that is supported by a pretty historic old town centering around an old church and bell tower at the top of Cannes ... its fairly complete as great towns go. I can totally see why people flip out over Cannes - I think it totally deserves its place on the map.

My first view of the promenade ... to imagine a 360-degree view, think of tons of old people wearing Gucci and Armani bhaiya ke kapde, jhoothe and bags, and dinchak-ing their way alongside armies of yappy little pricey poochies. Each of those dogs looked they were worth more than my imagined set of diamond earrings.

There's tons of installation art across the Croisette, so fairly often you come across random art being ferried across - like this printed Spideyman type structure.

This was after the beach had closed up ... tons of beach umbrellas all closed up after the end of the Sunburn war.

If you look closer you'd see the blessed hand prints of Akira Kurosawa and David Lynch and several other modern-day cinematic gods. Sigh.

On the beach ...

Found an amazing sand sculpture on the beach ...

I have seen many a glossy Mercedes ... but a matte-finish?!!

So Ash decorates bus stops here ...

The beach on the other side of the Croisette ...

The view from our apartment couch. Aah. Southern France and all that.

They are cinema-crazy ...

It easily had one of the most impressive harbors I've ever seen ... and believe me, Dubai has a VERY impressive harbor.

At the top of Cannes is a gorgeous little Church and bell tower from where you can have a pretty much unobstructed view of the whole city ...

I don't know about you, but something about this hotel (The Inter-Continental Carlton - 'the' place where all the stars stay) reminds me about the Taj at the Gateway ...

Umm ... murder at Cannes anyone?!

And to close the day - the fabulous sunsets I was talking of ...

But of course, to close any post - the readers and my favorite section ... Ze Random Pics.

No clue. I have tons of suppositions, but will offer none.

Because even children need formal clothes for all those dressy occasions.

Uggh. Just turn Neptune's head to get the water flowing.

Next a nice Nice post to come.

Cheerio,

Sushma