Scribble from Seattle 3

Sitting in the backyard of my new summer residence, its 4am, with a bottle of a Columbia Fume Blanc and a left over Monti Cristo (from last weeks crazy end of freshman year celebrations, but thats another story), I type. Summer has started in the Northwest and though for most people around here that means unlimited sunbathing and equally limited clothing, for me its just perfect. The breeze, 9 pm sunset, flip flops and v necks all day long; only a person used to the searing Delhi summer can truly appreciate the pleasure of a summer like this.

A constant theme that has been omnipresent this past school year has been 'change'. Change of country, change of culture, change in the alcohol that you drink or the cigarette that you smoke(or anything that you smoke for that matter), change in music , change in change being the key word in your resident country's most important elections in recent years.... and it goes on, which is a change on its own.

Though somethings remain constant, me typing this piece at odd hours, a bit tipsy, procrastinating(a word bit overused in college) over math(always math when i blog) homework as usual and on a school night, with a 8:30 am class awaiting at that.

I will be honest, a lot of what has happen in the last few months is very blurry to me.
You can reach your own conclusions as to why that is the case, but I will say this much that one thing that remains lucid and constant is my attachment to this wonderfully eclectic town by the Puget Sound called Seattle.

Seattle folks are some of the most paradoxical mountain men and women you can expect to meet anywhere. Seattle, the place that I call home now days, hosts more overeducated baristas and philosophising bums than any other city on the planet, I would guess. We wear gortex and ride fancy road bikes, all the while priding ourselves on our claim of a simple and organic lifestyle.

'All the lonely people
Where do they all come from ?
All the lonely people
Where do they all belong ?'

The Beatles (Eleanor Rigby)

One of my favourite activities in any city I am in is to walk around the city with my ipod and a bottle of spring water (trust me the latter is as important as the former if not more). And I have done this in the sweltering heat in the middle of Old Delhi, walking around the narrow streets looking at the sheer magnitude of life that inhabits my hometown, or around my favourite city in the world, Bombay, walking from one end of Nariman Point to another, and honestly there is nothing as humbling as seeing the coexistence of people from such varying backgrounds and more than anything to see them thrive. Ask any poor or rich, sick or healthy,old or young, well or shabbily dressed, Davidoff smoking or India Kings smoking, Armani or fake Armani citizen of this dynamic city and one thing remains constant, their love for Bombay; and its always Bombay, never Mumbai. One Slumdog Millionaire is not enough for this city, Danny Boyle are you listening!!

Did the same thing in the classy and cobbled streets of Edinburgh, amongst the overwhelming sights of Lower Manhattan (the best dressed folks by far), Istanbul(oh! those Turkish women!!), good old London (feel a bit weird saying this, but immigrants everywhere!!) and most of the Northwest.

But nowhere did I have more fun doing this than Seattle. One reason for this is that usually I am not the only one doing it. Somewhere in Ballard, Downtown, Capitol Hill or even the U- District, I find someone wearing a crisp white shirt, with a pack of Gauloises , with a bottle of spring voda in hand and with the same glazed look on their face as me. There is always someone willing for a conversation on organic wines growing in the Columbia Valley and at same time about the new dumpster diving spots near UW. Blondes in leather jackets and baggy jeans and 6'5 black folks in skinny jeans, carrying their Chihuahuas; Seattle is 'hella' fun!!

Its been a wicked first year and the next 3-4 years will be interesting, especially living off campus and more ingrained into the city. Honestly I have been to San Fransisco, Portland, Vancouver(BC) and Seattle, covering most of the Northwest and its quite frankly a fucked up part of the world. And the best part is I love it. Jazz, Paul Simon, Newgrounds D&B or Marley(especially Bob!)...everything makes sense here.

But as with anyone with a soul, you crave home. A day locked in the room you grew up in, those soothing cream blinds, listening to same music you hear when you were 16, no more cigarettes or hangovers to worry about. Just you and home.
But thats still a few months away. Till then let this fucked up and endearing journey continues.....

The Magic of the Cup

As the blues from London overpowered and overwhelmed the blues from Liverpool, on a sunny Saturday in Wembley, I could not help shedding a tear. Seeing the scenes of pure ecstasy as JT and Frank lifted the trophy, seeing Guus Hiddink say a very emotional goodbye, seeing Michael Essien taking over the camera and click some memorable pictures of his mates and most of all for me, seeing Ray Wilkins lift the cup, just made me sob and laugh.

People like Ray Wilkins just make you happy. Chelsea through and through and a thoroughly likable character, he is someone every pensioner has time for. And to see him climb those steps and lift the cup (and he was reluctant, till Guus forced him). Loyalty and perseverance, thats what gets fans smitten to and Ray personifies it.

Its been a long, insufferable couple of seasons. It was a trophyless season last year. No Luck, they kept saying. But for me it was heartbreak and a perennial barrage of banter from my mates. But this cup means a lot, reawakens a lot of tired and quite frankly frustrated souls.

Bit more luck on the pitch and a whole lot of soul searching off it are the needs of the hour at our beloved club. Guus Hiddink may be gone, but its important to keep the momentum going and think long term. Most of the squad is in its prime and still has a couple of seasons left in it. People like Lampard and Anelka have played out of their skins and merit more accomplishment.

Carlos Ancelotti has just been appointed as the new man incharge. I have a lot to say about that, but I will just be an optimist and hope for the best.

The best thing about being a fan is that it does not take much to get our hopes high. A hard tackle, commitment, unity, loyalty..true fans notice these things and thrive on such virtues. Seeing pure ecstasy on everyones faces after a cup win is chief amongst them. And on Saturday, seeing a beaming Frank Lampard and an emotional Hiddink pose in front of cameraman Essien and point towards him, as if trying to say, what the fuck?..well its right up there in my Chelsea memories.

Up the Chels!!