Justifying Insanity

Tot Ziens Eindhoven...Hoi Terneuzen

noreply@blogger.com (Huzaifa) — Wed, 18 Jun 2008 23:00:00 +0000

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The Last Column

A couple of weeks ago, I made a grave mistake - I inadvertently acquired enough credits to graduate. Now my presence was no longer acceptable on campus and I had to face the bitter reality of the world outside.

As a result of this tactical blunder, I now find myself in a quaint fishing village located just on the edge of civilization. In Terneuzen (which is Dutch for "Practically Belgium!"), I'm now performing the duties of an intern. This is the first time I'm working at a chemical plant, which is quite exciting and different from campus life. Well, that is if you call working 50m away from gigantic tanks of potentially flammable chemicals exciting. In the first week itself I experienced an emergency alarm, a near-miss chemical spill and a surprise government inspection. I spent the rest of my week drinking coffee, wearing my helmet and hiding under my fireproof desk. So far, so good. If I manage to complete three months onsite, preferably without blowing anything up, I'll call it a success.

This internship also marks the end of my TU/e chapter. I'm not doing a PhD, unlike many of my friends who jumped at the chance to spend four more carefree years on campus. No, instead I've opted to venture out, knowing that if I set my aim high enough and work hard, I could end up working for a huge impersonal corporation run by robots. Just like all the other grown-ups.

So, this will be my last column for the Cursor. I've spent nearly two years in Eindhoven. And in these two years, I've met some amazing people and had some great times. I came to Netherlands pretty much blindfolded. In many ways, it was a leap of faith. But I'm glad I did it. Living on my own, in a foreign land among a diverse group of people was a challenge I enjoyed. Eindhoven and its experiences, on and off campus, have gone a long way in defining who I am today.

Mumbai is where I grew up, but Eindhoven is where I found myself. And that I shall never forget.

Ten Things You Would Not Have Learnt If You Didn’t Attend Graduate School

noreply@blogger.com (Huzaifa) — Thu, 05 Jun 2008 15:41:00 +0000

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After spending nearly a year slavin…err... working on my graduation project, I learnt some important lessons and facts. And today I’m going to share this with you. So, I hereby present -

Huzaifa’s Ten Things You Would Not Have Learnt If You Didn’t Attend Graduate School.

The longer the title of a scientific paper, the lesser the relevance it will have to its actual content.
The more time you spend researching papers online, the higher is the probability you will end up surfing videos on YouTube.
The weather improves dramatically as the deadlines approach.
Your presentation should be ten minutes long. That way, the audience has five minutes to ask questions. And the first fifteen minutes can be spent cursing while trying to get the projector to work with the laptop.
Deadlines are great. Sometimes I like to smile and wave at them as they pass me by.
Engineering handbooks are extremely useful…as doorstops.
When your supervisor asks you to make a concise summary of your results, ‘42’ is not the right answer.
Also, “The voice in my head” is not an acceptable cross-reference.
You are also not allowed to sell your project supervisor on Ebay. Don’t try, because you won’t get a good price.
And finally…Murphy’s Law is probably the only undisputed law on the planet.

Dutch Sushi

noreply@blogger.com (Huzaifa) — Wed, 28 May 2008 09:04:00 +0000

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Long before it became hip and cool to be seen paying exorbitant prices to eat raw fish in tiny plates served by kimono clad waiters, the Dutch had already discovered the pleasures of uncooked seafood.

Hollandse nieuwe haring
Originally uploaded by aloxe

Integration
Originally uploaded by Tin Green

De nieuwe haring.
Originally uploaded by zilverbat

Last summer, armed with my trusty Dutch travel guide, I headed to the market to partake in this culinary tradition. I read the extract about Dutch herring as I made my way.

“Hollandse Nieuwe (harring) literally means Dutch New and can only be eaten from late May till mid July.“

So what exactly is this Hollandse Nieuwe? I read on…

“In 1380, Willem Beukelszoon van Biervliet invented the process of cleaning herring by removing the innards, except the pancreas. The pancreas contains a number of natural enzymes used to convert the food into fat, a ripening process regulated by salt. Willem is revered; children learn his name in school! “

Call me weird, but I'm a bit sceptical of cultures where chefs who specialise in raw food are revered. But hey, maybe that's just me.

Even in the crowded market, it was quite easy to spot the herring stall – Just follow the smell of Dutch sushi and look for men and women with mouths agape and face skywards. Because that’s the best way to eat raw seafood – hold the tail between your fingers and lower the whole fish down your throat. Two swallows, a few lip smacks and it's all over.

“The herrings are silvery outside and pink inside when fresh, but should not be bought if they look grey and oily. Be careful - if it's not fresh, it will taste rancid.“

Rancid? What rancid? As I stood there, in front of an open air cart, looking at the rows of raw fish being sliced and gutted, the word rancid never entered my mind.

And as a helpful motivation, so you don’t chicken out at the last minute, the guide adds - “Do not fear - Hollandse Nieuwe is not technically raw but the result of a particular ripening process.“

Somehow, the words ‘not technically raw’ did not inspire confidence in me. But I mustered up courage to order a plate. As I stood there, surrounded by the lip smacking Dutch, I placed my fingers on the fish tail and turned my face skywards.

Fingers poised, I opened my mouth, closed my eyes and lowered the dangling fish…

Queen's Day

noreply@blogger.com (Huzaifa) — Fri, 09 May 2008 17:34:00 +0000

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Last Wednesday was Koninginnedag, also known as Queen's Day, in Netherlands. Not to be confused though. Unlike what the name suggests, this is not when grown men put on dresses and make themselves look pretty. That’s known as Carnival.

No, this was the holiday to celebrate the Queen's birthday. And the whole country celebrates with one big street party. You can’t miss it unless you were deaf and colour blind. Deaf, because literally every spare corner in the city centre is turned into a makeshift stage with a DJ pumping out the popular Dutch club music which goes like 'boom, boom, boom'. And colour blind, because everyone wears Orange, the national colour. Step into any city centre and all you see is a swarm of undulating orange clothes, with a faint hint that there are people underneath those clothes.

Originally uploaded by PeterPaul020

Unfortunately, I didn't possess any orange clothing and decided to fill this gap in my wardrobe this year. Which should have been quite easy, considering that Queen's day is also the day the entire country turns into one big Flea market. People sell their old belongings (read: trash and junk) in roadside stalls. But the only orange clothing I could find was hats, bright orange wigs and long feathers that would make me look like an exotic stripper.

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Originally uploaded by PharPhoto

I walked around and continued searching. I had nearly given up hope, when I finally saw a man hawking orange shirts. He offered to sell me a shirt for 10 euros. So, I did what any other Dutch person would have done. I started haggling and made him a fair counter-offer of 50 cents.

After some hard negotiating, pretending to walk away, pleading bankruptcy, emptying pockets and looks of pity, I finally got the price down to 4 euros and 75 cents. Oh yeah! For that brief moment, I felt so Dutch. And now I had my orange shirt to look the part as well.

Train-ing Around

noreply@blogger.com (Huzaifa) — Sun, 04 May 2008 12:56:00 +0000

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When I'm travelling in Netherlands, I like to go by train. And I often find myself comparing the experience with that in my home country.

Leaving Eindhoven (again)
Originally uploaded by Reelsco

I still remember the first time I travelled by train in Netherlands. I had just landed at Schipol airport from India. I took my bag, bought a ticket to Eindhoven and walked down to the metro.

Now, picture this. This was my first time in Europe; I was fresh from India, having lived all my life in one of the most crowded cities in the world, walking into a station during peak hour, to find just two people on the entire platform.

It was unnerving to say the least. In my hometown you would normally find hundreds of people using the station at any given time. The running joke is that Indian Railway brings people together – literally, by cramming them all in one train. Travelling in Dutch trains was a luxurious albeit surreal experience for me.

Not anymore though. After two years, I'm getting quite used to this kind of travel. Now, I'm worried as to how I'll adapt myself to travel in Indian trains. It's going to be a 'reverse culture shock' when I return home.

On a side note, there is one thing that bothers me whenever I travel in trains. Every time I travel I end up having to listen to someone else's phone conversation. It's almost a given certainty that the minute you sit, get comfortable and the train starts, you will hear the standard Latino/R&B/Hip Hop ringtone. And the rest of the journey will be spent then listening to one end of the conversation. It doesn't matter how far that person is sitting from you – the sound travels clearly along the compartment. If you understand Dutch, then it might be an interesting conversation to follow. But my level of Dutch is non-existent. So I'm forced to spend the travel time with the noise in the background, contemplating issues like why in god's name does that person have an Elton John ringtone? In public? What kind of bet did he loose?

It's a minor irritant, but it's happened with me every single time I travel. I'm beginning to think that alongwith the ticket, a cell phone is a prerequisite to travel in trains here.

The BEST week in Paris

noreply@blogger.com (Huzaifa) — Fri, 04 Apr 2008 22:43:00 +0000

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I spent the second week of March taking part in a course organized by the Local BEST Group in Supelec Paris. Around fifty students from various engineering colleges across Europe gathered in Paris to spend around ten days attending lectures, workshops, company visits and various other activities.

For me, as the only non-European, it was a great experience in terms of the cross sectional cultural view that I got to witness. I learnt so many interesting tidbits about the different European countries and their people.

The French do eat the long baguettes for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Well atleast the students we stayed with did. And French students love to sing during parties while getting drunk. And their songs sound really cool in French. As long as you don't know what they mean. Then it just becomes embarrassing. You can spot Italians by a mile with the way they talk with their hands. And they are probably the only ones in the city wearing sunglasses on the cloudy, overcast Parisian days. The Romanians hate it when you pester them to sing 'Numa Numa'. However after persistent badgering, they eventually give in and sing the song with you. They don't like it, but they have simply accepted the fact that they have to live with this song as a symbol of their identity. And they don't like that at all. Another important thing I learnt - never come between a Hungarian and their paprika. Also, after having been asked a million times already, they don’t find the joke "Are you Hungary?" funny anymore. I, on the other hand, found it hilarious every time.

Seriously though, these kinds of events are really great because you get to meet a lot of different people from diverse backgrounds and it broadens your understanding about the world and its people. Especially if you are a foreign student, I would highly recommend taking part in such courses. It gives you a good taste of student life in this part of the world. And you can find out for yourself if all those stereotypes one reads about are true or not.

Bonus: Here's a video of me learning Italian sign language :-)

IcTheek

noreply@blogger.com (Huzaifa) — Fri, 28 Mar 2008 21:43:00 +0000

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The IcTheek is one of those important, yet underappreciated places on the campus. Sure, the Vertigo has its atrium, the Helix has its glass facade and the Pavillion has the labyrinth passages. But the IcTheek, in all its simplicity, is the cultural melting pot of the campus.

It was one of the first places I visited on campus. Since then I've spent many caffeine fuelled spells in this place, solving problems, writing reports, or simply bouncing ideas around my head.

And if you spend enough time there, you start observing the people around you. Slowly and surely you can identify certain types based on their behaviour. You see the Erasmus exchange students with their webcams and mic, chatting with their boyfriends / girlfriends back home. You see the Asian students, engrossed in their assignments, deftly manoeuvring their mouse in a manner that only years of playing Warcraft could perfect. You see a bunch of students quietly reading their lecture notes and you know they are Dutch, because they pack up and leave the minute the clock strikes thirty minutes past five.

And then there are the regulars. Like a famous club, the IcTheek also has its own tribe, its cult following. We are the regulars and we come from all over the world. We are the people who one fine day innocently stepped in just to check our email, and then never left. Super fast internet and the coffee machine had us hooked. You see us at all hours, day after day, occupying our favourite seats. That strange green thing at the back pretending to be an art sculpture is our mascot and contains our secret stash of Red Bull.

The IcTheek is where all our actual work gets done – torrents that need to be downloaded, YouTube videos that need to be watched, and messenger buddies that need to be chatted with. Sometimes to take a break, we write our reports and solve assignments as well. On rare occasions, we even step out into the outside world.

So, join me and my fellow brethren of the IcTheek club (you know who you are) in acknowledging our favourite place on campus, our home away from home. Long live the IcTheek !

Bedrijvendag And Me

noreply@blogger.com (Huzaifa) — Thu, 28 Feb 2008 20:33:00 +0000

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It was the Bedrijvendag (Career Fair) last Tuesday. Another year and another career fair comes and goes. I guess at some point in time, I'll have to accept the fact that my life as a student will come to an end. Even though I am still in denial, I did go the fair to take a look at possible future employers. Also, I was in desperate need of new pens.

Image from: TU/e Cursor

There are three main types of students you see at these career fairs. The first come there in extreme seriousness and dressed to kill. Armed with their CV, a smoking three piece suit and well rehearsed opening lines, they accost any HR person willing to listen about their extraordinary qualities. They seem pretty disappointed at the end of it though, when instead of being offered the six figure contract, they are told to apply online via the website.

Then you have the obsessive compulsive information hunters. Easy to spot since they are lugging with them huge amounts of printed matter assiduously collected from each stall – contact information, company newsletter, annual reports from 1985, personal diary of the company CEO, used tea cup of the HR manager for DNA testing etc. Anything they can get their hands on that might reveal that crucial piece of information that will propel them to a sky high career path. Often overheard shrieking: "You have only 30 pages of information to offer me? I need more. MORE!! "

And then there is the third kind. This group has arrived with the sole purpose of picking up as many freebies as possible. From candy to pens to water bottles, paper clips, mugs, posters, and even those cute HR girls (if they stand still long enough). Anything they can get their hands on is fair game. If you look around carefully, you can see them gathering in the shadows, exchanging vital tips, like which company has better pens and whose mints taste sweeter.

Well, it was better than spending lunchtime in the canteen. At least now I've enough pens to last another year.

Carnival Craze

noreply@blogger.com (Huzaifa) — Wed, 13 Feb 2008 22:04:00 +0000

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Carnival Maastricht 2007
Originally uploaded by butch499100

Maastricht Carnival
Originally uploaded by Peter30

Carnival Maastricht 2007
Originally uploaded by butch499100

The Carnaval came and went last week, and unless you spent it locked in your room, you couldn’t have missed it. The city and the centre was teeming with hundreds of people in crazy costumes and colours. Living in Eindhoven it’s impossible not to get caught up in the carnival spirit. And if you would ask around what the big deal was, they would look at you like you are an ignorant foreigner, or worse, someone from ‘above the river’.

I went to see the parade in Eindhoven. What struck me the most was the amount of effort people put into celebrating this festival. Organising the parade, building floats and designing unique costumes to make the occasion special. I like the enthusiasm with which events are celebrated in this country. You have to be really motivated to put on a bright green skirt in near freezing temperatures. Or be really drunk. But I like to think it’s the former.

I used to think that the carnival was just an excuse for people to drink themselves silly. But now I’ve come to realise it’s a lot more than that. It’s a cultural symbol and source of pride for the people who celebrate it. It serves as a communal marker that people can identify themselves with and in doing so, acts as a social adhesive to bring people together. That is in essence, what it means to celebrate the Carnival.

And the best part about costumed festivals – everyone looks as crazy as the next one. So atleast for those couple of days everyone is equal, irrespective of race, colour or creed. And it’s in moments like these, when people wear bright fluorescent costumes and come together to celebrate that you realise who we human beings really are - drunk, bad dancers with terrible dress sense.

Ik Ben Spreek-ing Prima

noreply@blogger.com (Huzaifa) — Fri, 25 Jan 2008 22:11:00 +0000

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Overheard in the IcTheek:

“Hi dude, hoe gaat het with you?”

“Huh, what did you say?”

“I asked how are you in Dutch. I have my Dutch exam tomorrow, so I’m practicing.”

“Oh, I see…so, how’s it going, is it easy to learn?”

“It is an easy-lijk taal. I found it tough initially, but then I discovered some tricks and with those, it became real easy to talk Dutch”

“Yeah, like what tricks?”

“Well for instance, unlike English where ‘the’ can be used for everything, in Dutch its either ‘de’ or ‘het’ depending on the noun. But there’s no rule saying when to use what. So, I just use ‘de’ most of the time and every now and then throw a ‘het’ in to mix it up a bit and break the monotony. I try to keep a ratio of 5 de’s to 1 het.

“Well, for a foreigner, I guess it’s okay if you…”

“Yeah and then I also discovered the multipurpose ‘Ja’. ‘Ja’ can mean yes and also yes but, maybe, I hope so, we shall see, yes but only if, no, really? , you’ve got to be kidding, etc. It all depends on the tone of the ‘Ja’ and the length of your ‘aaaa’. So if someone asks you a question in Dutch, there is an 80% chance that simply ‘Ja’ will be a sufficient answer.”

“And then run before he asks you to elaborate…”

“Natural-lijk. Also, learn certain Dutch words like ‘met’, ‘het’ and ‘ik’. Infact, forget the rest, just start all your sentences with ‘ik’.”

“I’m not sure that’s the correct way to…”

“And the most important trick - to indicate things done in the past simply prefix 'ge' with the action. For eg: Ik have my work gefinished. It's simple, isn’t it?”

“Umm, that doesn’t sound right…”

“Hey, ik ben spreek-ing prima, trust me.”

“Well, if you say so. Veel succes met jouw examen.”

“Thank you wel.”

Oudejaarsavond / New Year's Eve 2008

noreply@blogger.com (Huzaifa) — Sun, 06 Jan 2008 17:31:00 +0000

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MAF Vuurwerk Nieuwjaar
Originally uploaded by De MAF

Most foreign students are under the impression that the best way to celebrate New Years in Eindhoven is to rent a car and go to Paris and spend it there. Or Rome. Or Barcelona. Or Berlin. Anywhere but here. As soon as Christmas holidays roll around the corner, the annual migration begins, as flocks of students head south, across the border, to sunnier climes and promised lands.

I decided to brave the Dutch weather and spend New Years Eve in Eindhoven this time. New Year’s Eve, called Old Year’s Evening (Oudejaarsavond) in Dutch, is the only time fireworks are allowed in this country. If this is your first New Year’s Eve in Netherlands, you might get the false impression that the country has gone to war. Bursting of crackers begins as early as 15th December. In the days leading up to the 31st, walking or cycling at night becomes an adventure in urban warfare as neighbourhood kids take extreme pleasure in throwing mini bombs at passer-bys. This form of entertainment continues all the way up to New Years Eve.

On New Year’s Eve itself, pretty much everyone in the country lights fireworks. From sizzling bangers to dazzling rockets. You can see them all across the city, lighting up the sky, coating the city in a luminescent glow. It’s estimated that sixty million euros go up in smoke each year, enough to repay the national debt of some third world countries. At midnight nearly every inch of the sky is decorated with some firework or other. The fireworks go off for about two hours, while everyone is on the streets, drinking champagne, wishing each other "Beste Wensen" and exchanging hugs and kisses.

And this is how the Dutch cast aside their conservative-money-saving stereotype and celebrate "Oudjaar" in style. Happy New Year indeed, it’s a great way to start.

The Eindhoven Holiday Survival Guide

noreply@blogger.com (Huzaifa) — Fri, 21 Dec 2007 18:03:00 +0000

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How to celebrate Christmas like the Dutch

Pre - Christmas:

Buy a Christmas tree as soon as Sinterklaas is over. Each year people seem to be more and more in a rush, afraid that the neighbours will set their tree up first. This often leads to funny situations of having a tree which has lost half its needles by the time Christmas has arrived. And on Christmas, with the merest of touches, the remaining needles also fall down.

Visit Eindhoven Winterstad – Take part in the all the fun winter activities. There’s the Ice Sculpture festival, where tonnes of ice are displayed as works of art. You can try your hand at ice skating in the rink at the Markt and enjoy some hot chocolate in the bar. Or take a thrill ride on a rubber tyre down a 10 metre high snow ramp near the Catharinaplein. Finish off by visiting the Kerstmarkt nearby to have some gluhwijn and crepes.

Take part in the “Torch Procession for Tolerance”. Starting from Wilhelminaplein at 6pm on Christmas eve, join hundreds of fellow Eindhoveners as they make their way through the city centre holding torches to signify peace, unity and harmony.

Pray for snow, in vain.

On Christmas:

Tolerate your family and friends.

Have a ‘Gourmetten’ party. Invite your friends and family for dinner but don't cook for them. Instead provide them with bread, sauce, vegetables, small pans, and even smaller pieces of meat. Let them all prepare their mini-meals in mini-pans. A good Gourmetten party is one where the guests have to cook their own meals for atleast one hour.

Spend Christmas indoors. Not much choice, with the weather the way it is.

Complain that it's not a white Christmas.

New Year's Eve:

Spend a lot of money for a ticket to enter any of the clubs on Stratumseind that are so crowded you hurt people just by turning around. Highly recommended for foreigners from big, crowded cities who are feeling homesick.

Buy fireworks and light it up at midnight. The Dutch love bursting firecrackers on New Years Eve. You can walk around the city and watch an estimated 60 million euros go up in smoke and light.

After partying all night, you can go to The IJzeren Man 2008. Start the New Year by taking a plunge into an ice cold outdoor swimming pool. After all, if you fall into freezing water on a cold winter day, things can’t get much worse the rest of the year, right?

Sinterklaas

noreply@blogger.com (Huzaifa) — Thu, 13 Dec 2007 23:00:00 +0000

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Overheard, last week, a conversation between two foreign students on campus:

“Hey, it’s the festival of Sinterklaas today.”

“What’s that?”

Sinterklaas
Originally uploaded by Dogfael

Originally uploaded by j_wijnands

Originally uploaded by jaydot

Zwarte Piet
Originally uploaded by habaneros

Sinterklaas is a legendary saint. He’s the Dutch version of Santa Claus. He’s dressed like a bishop and has a golden staff in his hand. He comes from Spain in a boat.”

“You mean he prefers to spend his winter in Holland instead of Spain? Why?”

“Well, he dosen’t spend all his winter here. He comes on 16th November and leaves on 5th December, when he distributes gifts and sails off to relax on some Spanish beach.”

“I don’t blame him.”

“But while he’s here, he carries a large book in which he writes which children have been good and bad. The good kids receive presents.”

“What happens to the bad kids?”

“Well, traditionally the naughty kids were told that they would be whipped and put into bags and taken back to Spain. However, with advances in modern child psychology, this valuable tradition is lost.”

“Behave badly and win a trip to Spain – where can I sign up for that?”

“Yeah well, when the kids realized they could be naughty and get a holiday in Spain as ‘punishment’, its effectiveness was pretty much reduced. Nowadays, bad children are simply punished by making them sit on Sinterklaas’ lap and sing songs. The event is then videotaped by parents to embarrass them when they get older.”

“So, what gifts do they get?”

“On December 5th Sinterklaas brings the presents. And this is not just limited to the kids. Adults also have a party where they exchange gifts (though they are spared the naughty and nice charade). The gift is usually disguised to give the appearance of something completely different and is accompanied by a poem. The poem serves the singular purpose of embarrassing the recipient by reminding him/her of some embarrassing incidents, exposing their well-kept secrets, and generally mocking their failure of character. The recipient’s humiliation is completed by making him/her open the present in public and reading the poem out loud. This, naturally, leads to great hilarity.”

“So, basically, the idea behind Sinterklaas is to have lots of fun and give presents to each other. An excuse to get your children high on sugar and publicly make fun of your loved ones.”

“Yeah, fun tradition, ain’t it?”

“Definitely.”

Fiets-ing Around

noreply@blogger.com (Huzaifa) — Thu, 29 Nov 2007 00:01:00 +0000

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The world is full of strange phenomena that cannot be explained by the laws of logic or science. The Dutch obsession with bicycles, for instance.

Dutch for "Watch the F*** out"
Originally uploaded by termie

Leiden Cyclists
Originally uploaded by karlobrien

There are a lot of bikes in Netherlands. In fact, there are as many bikes as people. They are called ‘fiets’ in Dutch, probably because that’s what you use to power them.

A typical Dutch bike has a standard tubular frame, straight handlebars and full fenders. It also has defunct brakes, a dynamo that doesn’t work, a luggage rack and the liberally used fiets-bell. The luggage rack – and I use the term “luggage” loosely here – is a flat narrow plate above the rear fender. It is used to transport a wide range of cargo, from groceries and crates of Heineken to grandmas and children. Unfortunately, pianos and cupboards don’t fit on the rack, necessitating the use of two bikes driving side by side to transport those.

Originally uploaded by livewombat

In most countries, riding double with another rider is usually reserved for circus acts, but in Netherlands it is a common sight. Dutch mothers are especially adept at this, their talent on full display when pedaling in skirts and stilettos, with an infant on the handlebar seat, bags of groceries on the handlebars, one hand holding the umbrella and a second child on the luggage rack. Optionally, you may also see the family dog, tied to the bike and running behind.

Originally uploaded by beau

To drive like a Dutchman requires confidence. Sit upright on the bike and pretend to pedal effortlessly, while ignoring traffic lights, cars and pedestrians. The world is your fietspad. To spice things up a bit you could always play the Knockout game. It’s quite simple. First select a target pedestrian. Then stealthily cycle towards him at breakneck speed on a collision course, preferably from the rear. Exactly three seconds before impact, ring your bell just one time (only amateurs ring it more than once). Then swerve randomly to the left or right and observe the hapless victim jump for his life. Scoring is simple: +3 points for every near death experience, +2 bonus if the victim falls to his knees to thank god that he is still alive. And, of course, +10 if your victim’s a tourist.

Campus Art

noreply@blogger.com (Huzaifa) — Fri, 16 Nov 2007 16:27:00 +0000

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Inspired by the Dutch Design Week, I thought I would write about the various art objects dotting the Eindhoven university campus.

Tucked away next to the Zwarte Doos is what I affectionately call The Claw. It looks like…err, well, a giant metal claw. Painted in the most attractive colour that is iron rust, it looks like a remnant of a dystopic past, or a dislodged part of a Transformer Autobot. It serves no other purpose besides amusing passerby’s, providing a fancy support for locking your bike and drying your clothes, if you happen to fall in the Dommel.

Another puzzling piece is the ‘Genesis’, a sculpture on the edge of the main lawn outside the Hoofdgebouw. It’s supposed to be a symbolic representation of the growth process that students go through during their years at TU/e. Well, if that’s true, then I’m glad I’m just here for 2 years. Moreover, if you look at it from a certain angle, it seems like the statue is displaying the universal middle finger gesture. And I have a sneaky suspicion that it’s been purposely pointed towards the library. Or TU Delft.

If you cycle down the Kennispoort bridge and misjudge your braking, you’ll find yourself smack in the middle of the dysfunctional ‘SOH19’, also known as the Forgotten Dinosaur Egg Pool. You can’t miss it.It took 5 years to convert a perfectly fine grassy lawn outside the Zwarte Doos into a marshy swamp. The idea was to use floating solar panels to collect light energy to generate a magnetic field, which in turn levitates a huge sculpture, ‘The Buddha’, in the middle of the pond.

Now, if you’ve lived in Eindhoven for a decent amount of time, you probably realized the glaring flaw in this plan. Solar energy? In Netherlands? You’ve got to be kidding me. How could anyone possibly think that sunlight could be a sustainable energy source in Holland? We don’t get enough of it to waste on levitating Buddhas. Wind energy, yes, but solar energy, no way.

Come to think of it, a giant floating windmill would be a cool piece of art instead. We could even shape it like a Buddha. The tourists would love it.

Amsterdam Theory

noreply@blogger.com (Huzaifa) — Fri, 02 Nov 2007 16:02:00 +0000

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Amsterdam is the most famous thing associated with Netherlands. So widespread is its fame, that for people who have never lived here, Amsterdam is the Netherlands.

The first thing most foreign students do on arriving in Eindhoven is to spend a weekend in Amsterdam to sample some Dutch traditions, their virgin initiation into Dutch culture.

But Amsterdam is not Netherlands. It’s a different entity, a sub culture by itself. Amsterdam is not a typical Dutch cultural experience. But it is something unique and special on its own.

Over the last year, my opinions about the city have changed a lot. Last weekend I revisited Amsterdam. This time I was no longer the naïve, fresh faced tourist I was a year ago.

Amsterdam is a city where cultures collide, crash, fuse and merge. It’s where politics and old affluence swirl among new ideas and young ambition. It’s where art is made and history is preserved.

Walk the city streets and you’ll pass through places ranging from total chaos to strict order. Stark contrast is the norm. Where a dignified, grand 13th century church is surrounded by windows of temptation. Where Sunday morning church goers mingle with Saturday night’s hung-over party animals.

Amsterdam is about freedom and tolerance. It’s about freeing yourself, letting go, and self discovery. It’s about music, dance, art and expression. It’s about youth and the heady feelings that go along with it.

Amsterdam is wet. And it’s always under construction, constantly changing and evolving. It’s sinking and rising with the tides, literally and figuratively.

Amsterdam is shaped like half an onion. And like an onion, its superficial layers, so apparent to the casual onlooker, disguise the true experience beneath.

Just watch out for the bikes.

Nothing fake about them.

And they hurt like hell.

(Thanks for the pics, Aneez!)

U Spreekt Nederlands?

noreply@blogger.com (Huzaifa) — Sun, 14 Oct 2007 20:22:00 +0000

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Like most nationalities, the Dutch insist their language is a difficult one. It's also a funny language, as I've found out over the last few weeks in my Dutch for Beginners course.

Apparently the Dutch weren't exaggerating. There are sounds involved here which I didn’t know existed. The most difficult part is pronouncing the 'ch' and the guttural 'g'. The pages in my second-hand book were covered with spit stains, indicating that the previous owner had obviously practiced a lot. Probably had to drop the course when he ran out of throat medicine. After many failed attempts to pronounce the 'g', the teacher tried to explain that it's just like the sound one makes when one has a fly caught in their throat.

Umm, excuse me, but that doesn't really help. I've never had to swallow a fly before. And even if I did, I don’t think I would focus on the subtlety of the sounds emanating from my mouth, but rather, try to get the fly out of my throat. There has to be an easier way to learn this, right?

No there isn't. Certain sounds like 'ui' require you to contort your face into awkward configurations. So not only must you keep in mind the fly-caught-in-throat scenario, but also run through a host of facial expressions like wringing eyebrows, crinkling the nose and puckering your lips while delivering the sentence.

Of course, all this is of great hilarity to my Dutch friends. Watching me attempt to speak Dutch provides them with hours of amusement. Every now and then, they get me to pronounce 'Scheveningen' and then giggle away to glory.

It's a miracle my teacher manages to keep a straight face in class. Still, it won't be so funny if I don't pass this course. And I won't pass it if I can't speak it right.

I think I will go and catch some flies.

TU/e professor wins 2007 Ig Noble Prize

noreply@blogger.com (Huzaifa) — Sun, 07 Oct 2007 13:10:00 +0000

The next time someone asks me "TU Eindhoven? what? where..?", I'm going to simply point them to the following link.

TU/e professor wins 2007 Ig Noble Prize

An award Nature calls the "highlight of the scientific calendar" has been won in the field of biology by Prof. Dr. Johanna E.M.H. van Bronswijk of Eindhoven University of Technology, The Netherlands, for doing a census of all the mites, insects, spiders, pseudoscorpions, crustaceans, bacteria, algae, ferns and fungi with whom we share our beds each night.

Congratulations to Prof. van Bronswijk. She now joins the illustrious group of researchers like Mayu Yamamoto (who developed a method to extract vanilla fragrance and flavouring from cow dung), Brian Witcombe and Dan Meyer (for their penetrating medical report "Sword Swallowing and Its Side Effects"), Juan Manuel Toro, Josep B. Trobalon and Núria Sebastián-Gallés (for showing that rats sometimes cannot tell the difference between a person speaking Japanese backwards and a person speaking Dutch backwards) and many other notable scientists.

It's good to see TU/e getting the recognition it deserves :-)

Ramadan '07

noreply@blogger.com (Huzaifa) — Fri, 28 Sep 2007 22:08:00 +0000

You know it's Ramadan, when there are two consecutive posts about food :-)

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September 13th marked the beginning of the holy month of Ramadan. For Muslims around the world, it heralds a period of fasting and contemplation, a time to reacquaint themselves with their beliefs.

For many, it's difficult to understand the benefit of this self denial. But sometimes one needs to be deprived, in order to realise the true values. Ramadan is exactly that, a setup to put us back in control of our lives, as opposed to our routines and pleasures being in control of us.

But right now, I don't feel any of that. I am too occupied by the growling of my empty stomach.

The first week is always the toughest as your body adapts to the fasting. As soon as you wake up, you have to stop yourself from heading to the refrigerator. After living in the Netherlands for over a year, having to deny myself coffee is a tough struggle. By afternoon, my zombie like expression betrays my caffeine deficiency. I also have to skip the group lunch and vlaai in the common room. And fasting makes the most mundane cafeteria food look like heavenly manna. As the days wear on, the body adjusts and you stop ambling about like the walking dead, and actually get some work done. But the quiet rumble of hunger remains.

The first meal at the end of the day is always special. Traditionally, breaking of the fast is done with others, delicious snacks and water being shared amongst your close ones. Being a thousand miles away from home, I miss this the most – being with family, sharing meals, the festivities and celebrations all around you. "Breaking bread" with others is a great way to get a sense of achievement and sharing your joy. In Eindhoven, friends have replaced family, and I get to share these moments with them. Ramadan gives you the perfect occasion to strengthen ties and immerse yourself in your community, no matter where you live.

Dutch Cuisine

noreply@blogger.com (Huzaifa) — Sat, 22 Sep 2007 13:52:00 +0000

I'm now a fortnightly columnist for Cursor, TU Eindhoven's weekly newspaper. The column below appeared the previous Thursday alongwith a real cool pic :-)

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For someone like me, who is perpetually hungry, food is very important. You might not be aware, but most international students at TU/e walk around very hungry. Many of us come from cultures revolving around food, and getting adjusted to the Dutch cuisine and eating habits is a constant challenge.

For example, a typical Dutch lunch consists of two slices of bread with cheese in the middle. If it’s your lucky day, you’ll get a slice of processed ham, extra salty to compensate for the bland bread. To help this down your throat, you can wash it down with karne-milk (sour milk), which is exactly as appetizing as it sounds. Popular belief is that this combination is healthy and beneficial. True, especially if you own stock in the local bakery.

Dinner doesn’t improve matters much. A typical dinner item is stamppot, a dish whose ingredients are a mystery since it’s all mashed beyond recognition. Rumour has it that it contains potatoes and edible parts of some animal but the jury is still out on that.

Once, I was invited by a Dutch friend to dinner. I went to his home expecting a good hearty meal. Having skipped lunch that day, my mind was filled with visions of tender meat dishes and wholesome vegetables.

Upon reaching, he informs me that dinner consists of one main course - pancakes. Apparently, it’s a typical dinner menu. Noticing my trance like expression as my ears communicated this news to my growling stomach, he laughed and said “Oh, I was joking - we have pancakes AND whipped cream for dinner”.

Oh yeah, that makes it all better then.

I often wonder, maybe that’s why beer is so popular in this country - it makes the food seem good.

Jose Mourinho Quits Chelsea

noreply@blogger.com (Huzaifa) — Thu, 20 Sep 2007 20:03:00 +0000

Posted on Desicritics

In a statement released early Thursday morning, Chelsea Football Club confirmed that Jose Mourinho will longer be their coach.

"Chelsea Football Club and Jose Mourinho have agreed to part company today (Thursday) by mutual consent."

This dramatic turn of events and late night drama marks the end of Jose Mourinho's glittering three year spell at Chelsea. His departure comes in the wake of Chelsea's embarrassing draw with minnows FC Rosenborg in the UEFA Champions League.

The Special One

Having led an unfancied Porto side to Champions League glory, Jose Mourinho arrived in London in 2004 to take charge of Chelsea, now under the reign of Russian oligarch, Roman Abramovich. Landing at the airport straight in the midst of the circus known as British media, he promptly proclaimed:

"Please don't call me arrogant, but I'm European champion and I think I'm a special one"

Ladies and gentlemen, the ego had landed.

What was to follow was a rollercoaster three years in which he would lead Chelsea to 2 Premier league titles, 2 FA cups, 2 League cup victories, 2 trips to the Champions League semi-finals and an all time home record of 64 unbeaten league games.

2004/2005

His first task on arriving at Stamford Bridge was to lighten Abramovich's wallet. A summer spending spree £70m saw stars like Tiago Mendes, Didier Drogba, Mateja Kezman, Ricardo Carvalho and Paulo Ferreira added to Chelsea's payroll.

That season, the EPL title was wrapped up with minimum fuss. By December 2004, Chelsea were on top of the Premiership table. In February, he won his first trophy for Chelsea – beating Liverpool in extra time for the League Cup – and later in April secured Chelsea's first domestic title in 50 years with an emphatic 2-0 victory at Bolton.

However, the Champions League campaign was marked with controversy. Chelsea lost to eventual winners Liverpool in the semi finals. By now, Jose Mourinho had become a permanent fixture on the sports pages, with his quirky comments, constant complaining and unabashed arrogance.

"We have top players and, sorry if I'm arrogant, we have a top manager."

Jose 'Moaninho' was here to stay

2005/2006

Roman Abramovich had just one demand from Mourinho – To win the Champions League. Before the season began Asier Del Horno, Lassana Diarra, Shaun Wright-Phillips and Michael Essien had bolstered the ranks. In a buying spree exceeding £50m, Abramovich displayed his commitment to spend what it takes to win Europe's highest honor.

After topping the Premier League for most of the 2005-2006 season, Chelsea beat rivals Manchester United 3-0 on April 2006 to win their second consecutive Premiership title and Mourinho's fourth domestic title in a row.

"Everybody wants Chelsea to lose a game. When they do they should declare a public holiday."

But Champions League glory still evaded him. By now cracks began to appear, with critics complaining about Chelsea's dour playing style. Roman Abramovich was clearly unhappy. Domestic glory was not a sufficient reward for his invested millions. He had been seduced to football by watching Manchester United and Real Madrid's exquisite, fluid moves, and Mourinho's defensive style was upsetting him.

The boss was unhappy.

"Pressure? What pressure? Pressure is poor people in the world trying to feed their families. Working from dawn till dust just to feed their young. There is no pressure in football."

2006/2007

Two titles in two seasons suggested that Jose Mourinho was indeed special, but then so was the seemingly endless budget he had to work with. This season was also to be marked with the characteristic Chelsea splurging, a trend that was causing serious inflation in the transfer market. Jose Mourinho bought in Kalou and John Obi Mikel. But more importantly, Abramovich bought in Michael Ballack and Andriy Shevchenko. This move set a downward spiral in the relationship between Mourinho and Abramovich. Mourinho felt his authority at Chelsea was being undermined. He had spent the last two seasons crafting a team based on loyalty and strict discipline, in which he was the focal point of authority. His team may have played boring football, but they delivered the results.

"Look, we're not entertaining? I don't care; we win."

This season would also see the reemergence of Manchester United as a potent threat to Chelsea's dominance. By January, Mourinho was locked in a power struggle with Abramovich aide and sporting director Frank Arnesen. All of a sudden, the wallet slammed shut, prompting the first suggestions that all might not be well in west London. Chelsea were performing badly, and eventually lost the EPL crown to Manchester United. Boardroom politics and a failure to integrate his squad with Ballack and Shevchenko were fast deteriorating his relationship with the upper management.

Liverpool didn't make things easier, eliminating Chelsea from the semi finals of the Champions League. Jose Mourinho had had three close chances to win the cup, but had failed to deliver the prized trophy. Roman was loosing patience.

2007/2008

This summer was marked by an uncharacteristic lull in the transfer market, with the only notable purchase being that of Flourent Malouda. Chelsea beat Birmingham 3-2 at Stamford Bridge in their opening match of the 2007-08 season and in the process set a new English record for unbeaten league matches at home. Despite this, their start to the season was not as successful as previous seasons. The team lost away at Aston Villa and slipped to 5th place in the table, a hitherto unknown territory. Abramovich walked away in disgust before the match ended.

"I think the owner leaves the stadium when he wants to leave. I went to see England-Germany the other day and I left early because I wanted to beat the traffic."

But things came to a head on Tuesday, where Chelsea could only manage a 1-1 home draw against an unfancied Norweigan team FC Rosenborg in front of an almost half-empty stadium. Roman Abramovich probably could take no more. In his eyes, Jose Mourinho's term had been a (relative) failure. Twenty four hours later, Chelsea announced that Mourinho and the club had parted ways 'by mutual consent', a euphemism for being sacked.

In a little over three years, Mourinho showed that he could be arrogant, eloquent, infuriating and brilliant. His arrogance was cringeworthy at times and his quotes were every journalist's dream come true. But Mourinho had failed to infuse his team with the same dynamism he displayed in his press conferences and in doing so the Special One's reign has come to an end.

"Omelette, eggs. No eggs, no omelettes. It depends on the quality of the eggs. In the supermarket you have eggs, class one, class two, class three. Some are more expensive than others, and some give you better omelettes. When the class one eggs are in Waitrose and you cannot go there, you have a problem."

(Mourinho about injuries in his Chelsea squad, three days before he parted company with the team, 17 September 2007)

Chak De India - Bringing Hockey To The Forefront

noreply@blogger.com (Huzaifa) — Tue, 21 Aug 2007 20:08:00 +0000

I want Chak De India to do very well at the box office. And it has nothing to do with the acting or clichéd storyline. I want it to be a success because it's a small but significant correction to the media lopsidedness when it comes to sports.

With the rising popularity of Twenty20 cricket and the advent of the Indian Cricket League, there's going to be a lot more focus on cricket than ever before. In the coming months, the promoters of ICL will spare no effort to make their venture a public success. Non cricket sports, which have always been on the periphery, will slip further away from the spotlight.

The Indian hockey scene has been in despair for a long time. Corruption, lethargy and unwillingness for modern technology have lead to this. Ever since the world switched to Astroturf in the 1970s and India dilly dallied, the once filled hockey stadiums witnessed diminishing crowds and now lie in despair.

The Premier Hockey League was an attempt to change that and lift hockey from its doldrums with flashy marketing, taglines, brand endorsements and TV coverage. But it hasn't yet achieved its target. Cricket is simply too powerful to overcome with catchy slogans and corny team names.

But that's where Shahrukh Khan comes in. King Khan wields power that money simply cannot buy. Coupled with an inspiring storyline he can elicit emotions in the audience that marketing campaigns cannot. This is the guy who single handedly made it "cool" to get your parents permission before eloping with your lover ( refer: DDLJ ). And he's adored by an audience that is perfect for sports viewership.

Thanks to Chak De India, hockey has crept into the spotlight piggybacking on Shahrukh Khan. The game is being splashed across glossy supplements and is suddenly visible to a large demographic of youngsters. This is just the kind of impetus the sport required. Bollywood has the ability to sway the masses. It has provided the impulse to get the ball rolling. Now the sports authorities must keep the momentum going.

The hardest part of convincing someone is getting them to listen to you. Thanks to Shahrukh, people are gladly queuing up to watch the game on the big screen. We can only hope that a few of the viewers will watch the movie, go home and pick up a hockey stick. Then this movie would be a true success.

Thierry Henry Quits Arsenal For FC Barcelona

noreply@blogger.com (Huzaifa) — Sat, 23 Jun 2007 19:51:00 +0000

Being an avid soccer fan, there is nothing more exciting during the summer lull than a big transfer story.

Unless, of course, it involves the club you support selling off their star player.

Thierry Henry, brilliant striker, leading Arsenal goal scorer, and an all round arrogant legend, has confirmed that he will be signing for FC Barcelona. His decision was based on the departure of sporting director David Dein and by the fact that manager Arsene Wenger has not extended his contract.

French newspaper L'Equipe quoted the 29 year old striker as saying:

"That was the process that started the whole thing off and coloured my reasoning. I don't think many people realise just how important David Dein was to Arsenal.

On top of that the fact that (coach) Arsene Wenger would not be extending his contract (which expires in June 2008) was also a very important matter to bear in consideration"

The ball was probably set rolling when Henry said he was an "Arsenal player for now" in a recent interview. Speculation continued, based on a lack of definite statement from club or player. Then FC Barcelona lost the La Liga, and club president Joan Laporta promised new stars in the lineup for next season. There was even the usual nonsense talk of Barcelona recruiting Wenger. And of course Wenger would bring Henry to Barcelona.

And then, to top it all, Henry's agent threatened legal action against a French newspaper for claiming that Henry has agreed to a move to Barcelona. That settled it then. When agents take the trouble of suing newspapers, it's probably a done deal.

So it wasn't a big surprise when news finally broke late Friday that Barca have signed Henry.

But my heart still skipped a beat. It stopped, swivelled and jumped around. Just like Henry's famous sidesteps.

[Insert Henry-based Arsenal flashback here - Hat-tricks against Liverpool and Roma, the double at San Siro against Inter, devastating solo efforts to beat Spurs and Real Madrid, the priceless flick up and volley over Fabien Barthez against Man Utd. And of course the Played 38-Won 26-Drawn 12-Lost 0 season of the Invincibles, where maestro Henry scored 30 goals.]

So where does this leave Arsenal?

Critics are having a field day claiming that without Henry the club will crumble and languish in mid table overtaken by the likes of Spurs, Newcastle, Aston Villa and even Manchester City. [No, seriously, they actually said Manchester City.]

Nonsense. To see how Arsenal will perform without Henry, look no further than last season. Arsenal finished fourth, trophyless for the second straight year, but, with Henry, van Persie, Gallas, Rosicky, Ljungberg, Diaby and Eboue all missing games due to injury.

That's not a bad position to be in, without spending exorbitant amounts of cash a la 'Chelski' and without Henry for half the season.

The truth is that despite Henry's talismanic presence and superior goal scoring skills, he stopped being Arsenal's main man some time back.

Today, if it's one player who is irreplaceable in the Arsenal line up, it's Cesc Fabregas.
Cesc is the lynchpin of the Arsenal team. Just 20 years old and he dictates the gameplay at the highest levels against world class opponents. This is a testament to his amazing skills and talent.

Besides Cesc, Arsenal have some amazing young players. Armand Traore, Theo Walcott, Johan Djourou, Denilson, Diaby all showed in Arsenal's Carling Cup run that the club has some of the best young talent in the country. Hopefully, now with the money earned from Henry's transfer, Wenger will buy one or two experienced players who can ably guide these youngsters and the team will make good progress next season.

I would have loved to see Henry finish his career at the Emirates Stadium. But as long as Wenger is there off the pitch and Fabregas is present on the pitch, I'm confident that the future's bright for Arsenal.

Au revoir Henry – It was a privilege watching you play. Thanks for all the memories. But now it's time to move on.

Living With Roommates

noreply@blogger.com (Huzaifa) — Sun, 22 Apr 2007 20:40:00 +0000

Staying with European room mates has played a major part in shaping my experience in the Netherlands so far.

First there was R. This tall, slim, blue-eyed blonde would have the honor of being my very first flatmate. Heh, I still remember the first day she arrived. I had been living in Eindhoven for three days. Three very unusual days, as I tried to accustom myself to an environment so different from that I used to call home.

I heard the door click in the evening and went out to check it. I came face to face with this girl, bags and all. "Err…can I help you?", I inquired. "I'm supposed to live here" she said. "Oh…err…heh…so am…I…umm" I staggered in my reply. We blinked at each other as realization set in that the liberal Dutch values manifest themselves into co-ed housing.

After the initial introduction, we went to our rooms. She, to unpack, hoping that the stories she heard about Indian guys and voodoo, black magic, dancing naked around fires during full moon was merely an exaggeration, while I lay in my room, my mind wandering between the irony of the situation (I had few female friends back home, let alone share a home with one) and imagining the incredulous looks on my friends faces back home when they'll hear of this.

Things turned out just fine though. I learnt a lot from this experience. Small things like it's polite to say good morning to your fellow roomies, before kissing the coffee machine. Apparently it's considered rude to give more importance to the coffee machine than to your living, breathing friends. I had to learn to hold a conversation without mentioning soccer, cricket or any other sport. I realized that Europeans don’t have the same tolerance for spices as Indians do, after I nearly killed her with my chicken curry. Those masala packets are dangerous in untrained hands.

But in the end, she survived. She'll tell you that living with me without going insane is a testament to her character.

A week after R, A arrived. We were anticipating A's arrival beforehand since I managed to take a peek at the student records at the international office. I was therefore expecting someone from Eastern Europe - stout, gruff voice, in a leather overcoat and a bag full of vodka. To my dismay, A was nothing like the stereotype. He was lean, friendly, talkative, spoke a smattering of languages without any heavy accent. He didn't have any connections with the mafia either. Nor did he smuggle any vodka across the border.

Despite the initial disappointment, we got along well. Thanks to A, I discovered that I actually like traveling. We've had some fun trips together in the short time we’ve known each other and he's constantly planning more in the future.

What strikes me about A the most is his inquisitive nature and inexhaustible thirst for information. Talking with A means answering a barrage of questions, one leading to another until you throw your hands up and say "STOP, enough already, I confess!" And with me, it's always questions about India. Thanks to him I have realized how little I know about my own country. And any questions directed towards him are skillfully deflected and avoided.

He once let it slip that he learnt this asking-many-questions-type of conversation when he attended military training back home. Ah-hah I said, linking the pieces in my mind. The talkative nature, the numerous interrogating questions, multilingual skills. It was obvious. He was a secret agent, here undercover, sent to spy on the western neighbors and partake in academic espionage.

I confronted him and asked him to fess up. He flatly denied everything. He promised to buy me a "My friend is in the KGB" t-shirt, though.

The next person to arrive in our home was L. R was an exchange student and when she left L came to stay in her room. Which is really ironic. Since L is completely inverse to R. While R was the cool, chilled out Scandinavian, L is the quintessential energetic, affective, bubbly Hispanic.

My first meeting with L is a story in itself. A was out of town that week, and I was staying alone. I came home one evening, and I got the sense that something's not right – the chairs seem to have moved, the kitchen counter looks cleaner, that sort of thing.

When I came home the next night, the plates had been washed and put away, and the table had been wiped clean. I thought my mind was playing tricks with me.

The next night, things in the fridge had been rearranged. Someone (or something?) had restocked the shelves. That freaked me out. This was proof. There was definitely something living here, under the same roof, but I hadn't seen it yet. And what kind of a fiendish spirit haunts people by restocking their fridge?

So I left a note on the kitchen counter. I thanked the ghost for replenishing the food and cleaning up. I also suggested that perhaps next time it could buy more potatoes and that the bathroom needs cleaning as well. What the hell, if I'm being haunted by a poltergeist, might as well get some housework done, since it's so willing.

Turns out the spirit could read notes and also post a reply. Turns out she had the same doubts about me, and was relieved I was flesh and blood.

So after one entire week of living in the same house, we finally met.

And of all the people I've met so far, L is the one I still can't figure out. She balances work, parties, travel, friends, all in the same day. After her first week in Eindhoven, she knew more people than I did after seven months. And she has already been to more parties in Eindhoven than I'll probably attend in all of my two years. Typically Spanish, her day begins at 10 and ends at 4 the next morning. And she's always running around. She's always going somewhere or doing something. Her unlimited energy is amazing. She moves around so much, some days all I see of her is a blur. Conversations with her are frequent with interruptions, deviating from one topic to another, peppered with exaggerated hand movements and childlike enthusiasm. If I ever need to talk to her for a long time, I would have to tie her down to a chair with a rope.

I just don’t get her. And I've two months left to figure her out.

I think I'll go look for some rope…

Arsenal In Eindhoven

noreply@blogger.com (Huzaifa) — Sat, 03 Mar 2007 08:56:00 +0000

(A bit late, but nevertheless...)

For my writeup on the PSV-Arsenal match, head over to Desicritics.

Photos below, and a video at the end.

The Philips Stadium, before the match

The match begins...

The fans

And their celebrations at the end of the game.