Part One

Part Two

Part Three

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  Mad Musings: Good evening. This is the Mad Broadcasting Corporation beaming from North York, Toronto.  On the 7th evening of September 1999, Toronto received with open arms three immigrants from the Land of Gold: Dubai. As they touched down on the tarmac they raised their faces to the heavens, thanked their saviour and uttered a silent prayer. "We have actually landed in Canada."

For a more detailed report MBC surrenders the mike to the head (a disputable fact!) of the family. "We took off from Mumbai on 6th night. The journey to the airport through the filth, slime, craters, diversions, and mountains of rubble and under and between fly-overs (do I already sound like a Canadian on visit to India) was uneventful and we reached there quite early. There was a heavy rush to get inside the building. Then there was a decent line before the baggage screening  machines.

After that we approached the ticket counter, a bit tense because of the fully pregnant baggage we were wheeling across the airport building. We had heard that British Airways was quite fussy about the size and weight of luggage. A couple of days earlier we had spent enough time packing, repackaging the 6 suitcases (max. permissible) and hauling them on top of a weighing machine (only a model aspiring for the Miss Universe title would have climbed the weighing scales so many times).

The man at the ticket counter was quite nice and did not even check the weight (not mine!) of the bags. There was a long line for the immigration; about 4 Q's of 100 people each! It was as if people were just waiting to get out of Mumbai. British Airways took off on the dot from Mumbai at 2.10 a.m. on 7th morning. A light meal was served. We tried the various gadgets like the earphones and the various audio channels and got bored. Managed to sleep for sometime before we were awakened for breakfast. Settled for a good breakfast.

By the time the bread and eggs settled down in the stomach, the airhostess announced that we are about to touch down at Heathrow. Historic London was shrouded under a thick blanket of heavy clouds; so we were spared the beautiful sight from the aircraft. Once on the ground we reached our terminal after a brisk morning walk (the approach to the terminals are endless). We settled down to a long wait, and took turns going around the exclusive shops. Even touching something costs money. Finally after a lot of grumbling we bought our son a packet of chips and mineral water. My heart was pounding when I handed over a $20 bill to the lady at the counter who was an Indian with a British accent. Do they put on the accent like lipstick in the morning? Will I have an accent by accident?!

We spent our time sitting, staring and talking. By 2 p.m. our flight was announced. Children and families were given first priority. So we missed that one Q. Probably for the first time in our life! We got inside and belted up. As soon as the flight took off after an hour's delay, they served lunch. I managed to drink a couple of beers before that and slept like an `S' shaped log in that cramped and narrow seat. The guy sitting next to me was twice my size and was overflowing into my seat. I built a dam by putting my hand on the handle to stop his free-flowing flab and slept peacefully. The next thing I knew we were in Toronto. I wanted to kneel down and kiss the ground. I thought I shall reserve that for a later time.

The approach to the immigration was even longer than London.  We managed to pass through customs and immigration quite fast. Our baggage had also arrived intact(!). As we rolled out of the customs we saw a piece of red carpet and walked over it! So this is what red carpet welcome is all about! Our baggage went into two cars. From the airport the place looked like Dubai with the fly-overs and good roads. But once on the road the transformation was beautiful. The whole place is green and it is full of hills and valleys. You can hardly see the houses between the trees. And the wide-open spaces are really wide open. It looked like Kerala (South Indian state) stretched 1000 times in every direction. A great deal of planning has gone into it of course.

We stayed the first night at a friend's house. The next afternoon we ventured out by ourselves. We walked most of the way with our jaws hanging wide open due to the amazement. Like ants, we walked in a straight line along Yonge Street (the longest street in the world), and back in another straight line. Then we felt a bit tired. We should be feeling the jet lag. I don't know what it is all about, and I think it's all a big excuse for sleeping. That night we moved to another friend's house. They have an independent 4-bedroomed house with a nice backyard and front yard. It's beautiful. The only thing I don't like about the houses here is that it is quite flimsy. If anyone walks on the first floor it sounds like thunder. When you flush from the upstairs bathroom and if you happen to sit down in the living room it sounds like standing inside Niagra Falls with eyes shut.

People here are nice. I am yet to meet an Indian who said "Hello" on the road. Canadians never miss an opportunity to greet a stranger. There is a lot of Chinese here. After settling down we went downtown. That's like going into the middle of the city from the suburbs from we are living. Buying tickets was quite an experience. When you enter the bus you drop $2 into the slot for each person, and if you want to continue your journey by train you ask for a `transfer' which is another ticket. The same ticket will take you downtown.

The train remains mostly hidden beneath the ground and comes up for a breath of fresh air only a couple of times during the entire journey. The first time we flashed a $5 note at the bus driver. Apparently they are allergic to money and we had to give exact change. So we had to get out and get change. The train journey was quite fast. None of the bulging trains we see in Mumbai. Spacious L shaped seating and the map is on top of every door. When we reached our destination we got out and walked around for a while. After sometime it struck me that something is different. There is quite a lot of old people over here. Not something you see in Dubai. And there are quite a lot of nuts. One lady was shouting as everyone at the top of her voice. Two ladies, we saw later at a shopping center, were singing at the top of their voices. Another man was shouting that some dry cleaner cheated him. Then I felt really alive.

I hope that I haven't bored you with this story. This is the first part of my story. You can take a break if you like. Change that nappy or even take a walk in the garden.

  Part Two

By the beginning of Fall (Winter), the wind had picked up. The temp. has dropped. Our spirits were up. But our resistance was thoroughly destroyed by the combined forces of icy-cold weather and the piercing wind. In our three layers of clothing I was feeling like an Egyptian mummy (whether Egyptian mummies have feeling is a fact that was not accorded any importance in world history) about to be taken down the 1000 flights of steps to the bottom of the pyramid. An Egyptian mummy, kept at the intersection of Don Mills St. and Finch Av. (two roads) for 5 mts. will automatically develop feelings. The chilling fact dawned on us that it is not even Winter.

New Day. My heading today was South-East. Human Resources building on St. Clair street. I managed to send so many Resumes today  for positions that the machine began panting. One of the perks of going to these dull (but unavoidable) centres is that you can watch the leftover (people looking for jobs) tying to impress themselves on the phone, fax, email, etc. You said it. Having a job is so important.

Yesterday my wife said that she feels like a liberated woman. To prove her point on our way back from a shopping mall she stood at the corner while waiting for the bus to arrive and sang to her heart's content. Loudly. Within 10 mts. her liberated soul was awarded with a quarter thrown at her feet. The lady who did so, walked past nonchalantly. Looking at her receding back I got the feeling that she must be liberating many souls during her evening walks. And her pockets were jingling with quarters. I thought that this incident would deflate any ego. But my dear wife took it on an inspiring note. To my despair! She sang. We'll be quarter millionaires in a few years. Bless her voice!

Oh! Yesterday we saw a Mallu (Malayali) girl with tight curls, which you see only on the heads of women from Kerala or Africa. We were standing right behind her at the bus stop and talking in Malayalam. First she pretended not to hear it. After sometime she casually turned around to see whom these country bumpkins were. I smiled at her. She wore an expression like the one you see on Snowman or Iceman. My lady was holding my hand on a leash. Probably that's why she did not smile back. I'll try tomorrow when I'm alone. We also saw two ladies holding 6 tiny children on a long leash. They were taking them across the street and the age they were in (2-3), I will advocate such practices. They formed a sort of a cute train with an adult engine and an adult brake van.

Today I met a headhunter. He tried to impress me with his career record. A few queries later I understood that he is a headless hunter with no clue of what he is talking about. Still he has the contacts. Hope that he gets me a job. I am not desperate to get a job. I repeat, I am not desperate. I'm not…… Now you get the general drift.

New Day. Today I went to get myself some winter clothing. After trying out 25 different jackets I got tired. My arms were so tired that when I took off the 25th jacket my arms were missing. I had to run back to find my missing arms in the jacket. I was trying to buy a jacket that 1) will protect me from the cold 2) will be water resistant 3) has two sets of flaps in the front 4) has padded insides 5) has two sets of zips in the front 6) cover the seat of my pants 7) has a tight cuff to block cold air  8) that has a combination of colours that I like 9) has lot of pockets and 10) should be cheap. The storekeeper told me that such a jacket is yet to be manufactured. I managed to find one close to that, but then the price was exorbitant.

Talking of the seat of my pants, there is a new fashion in town. Y'know how kids wear pants here? The seat of the pants should be hanging without any particular job halfway down at the knees. When you look from behind it looks as if it has no contact with the bum that is wearing it! The underwear will mostly be playing hide and seek when the wind blows up the shirt or when the kids start to take out their wallets.

Talking about haircuts. I've seen similar shapes on our neighbour's (Chinese) garden. Kids are nice, though. They have excellent manners. It took me two weeks after landing in Canada to quench my thirst. I mean to have a beer. Didn't want to go to the pub till I was familiar with the pubs. So last Sunday I managed to find a place called the Beer Store. At 10.00 sharp I plastered my face against the glass door of the store. The guy inside must have seem my thirsty eyes and told me to come back at 11.00. Shops are open only from 11.00 to 2.00 on Sundays. I had my fill, of course, at a friend's place.

Do you know anything about fleece jackets? Can you wear a fleece jacket as normal clothing or is it to be worn only under snow coats. Today I was wearing one and was eagerly looking at anyone else who was doing the same thing. I saw no one. I feel now as if I'm in my underwear.

The big news of the month here is about the `bedroom rapist' (BR). All they know about him after 10 rapes (9 till now. By the time you get this letter he would have committed 10) is nothing. He is getting so bold that he even invades women with husbands lying by their side. Going by the success of BR one must be thinking that either the women has managed to kill their husbands and are just having them by their side for comfort or the husbands here must be having no feelings whatsoever. After all these days the police managed to find out his escape route. Through a canal! Bingo! Now I suppose they will put traps all along this route. They have offered a $50,000 reward for proving information about the rapist and leading to his arrest. The guy is insatiable. Three in one night! I wonder if he had an overdose of Viagra!

  Part Three

Yesterday was a Sunday. We drove down to an Indian's shop. For those homesick people. He sells all the stuff a Malayalee is used to but cannot get in any other shop. He is really cashing in on it. On Saturday I walked quite a lot. I am sure this is how Phantom earned his name `The Ghost Who Walks'. For want of any vehicles in the thick of the jungle the poor guy walked and walked. The only difference between us is that I am the modern Pant-hum: Mad who walks.

Yesterday my wifetasted her first taste of Macdonald's Burger. She was so hungry that we ordered a Double Mac. The idea behind it was her firm conviction - fuelled by generous comments from others - that she has a big mouth. The big Double Mac, if you have not tried it, is a layered cushion of melting and oozing calories, held firmly in place by two soft circles of buns on either side. The idea is to hold the buns together and press it without letting the insides escape. A feat for big hands.

In between the layers are two circular pieces delicately cut out from some poor beef walking around in Canada or New Zealand. That's the meat of the whole story of The Burger. This is one place where meat and vegetables co-exist peacefully for the existence of man/womankind. The pint-sized lady at the counter (fat as a barrel thanks to a regular diet of Macs for the past 12 years and is participating in the race for the `Mac 2000 Award' by eating the maximum amount of Macs in a 24-hour period.) gave us both a cardboard box and two packs of fries. We retired into a corner of the outlet and placed our booty on a stand-up counter. To others we must have looked a sight. Two huge Macs with two big Macs.

We started off with the fries. On popping each fry into our respective mouths our conscience were getting fried as well at our guilt on putting on calories.  The typical Indian attitude comes into play here. Get maximum value for money. A generous amount of ketchup drowned the meat and a helpful wad of tissues to clean up the mess. Wifey then tried her first bite of this historic piece of fast food. When Amstrong landed on the moon he commented: "A small step for man, but a giant step for mankind." Ammins was of the opinion: "A small bite for me but a giant step towards the Mac 2000 Award." She has become a die-hard fan of Mac. Saying those words she squeezed Mac's ends and the gentleman standing next to us with his back turned got a liberal squeeze of free ketchup on his huge bottom.

13 January, 2000. The God's are having their pillow fight. The whole country is drowned by white fluff. As if to prove that the guardian angels are keeping watch at night over lesser mortals, the gods and angels continued to have fun throughout the night. By morning Toronto and surrounding areas were covered by 2 feet of snow. The pillow fight is scheduled to continue till late March.