Another Kerala doyen passes away

Postage stamp of Padma Shri K. M. Mathew

On Sunday morning, I woke up and received information from many sources, relatives and friends, the sad news of the passing of Mr. K. M. Mathew, (Mathukuttychayan), one of the two younger brothers of my late mother. (The youngest, Mr. K. M. Mammon Mappillai (Kochappachen), the late Chairman and Managing Director of MRF Ltd. passed away in 2003.)

Many people who read my blog took the trouble to send condolences on the passing of man who, with his three amazingly brilliant sons, changed the face of Malayalam journalism over the course of the 55 years he was associated with the newspaper at the grass roots level.

There are many very personal stories I could share with you about this outstanding human being, to show you how much of an ordinary lovable man he was. Some of them are already on the blog. As I devote this entry to his memory, I do repeat some of them as a tribute.

I owe much to this human being. He was the one who taught me how to relax and expanded my world when I was just a naughty and mischievous little boy entering my teens. At the double wedding of two of my cousins in Madras in 1956 or 1957, I was making a terrible nuisance of myself when everyone was trying to get an afternoon nap.

Mathukuttychayan enticingly called me to where he was lying down and told me he would teach me some magic.

He asked me to lie down next to him. In the most interesting series of soothing words he asked me to tense my toes very tight. Then he asked me to let them loose. I repeated this a few times. He urged and coaxed me to repeat this process with all my main muscles. Before I realised it I was in a deep sleep, obviously to the relief of all the others in that house!

This technique, he later told me, would make me outstanding as I could get more done in my life than any other human being. My success as a power-house of energy today at the age of 67 is due entirely to this technique. I can drop into deep sleep at the drop of a hat and wake up in 10 minutes, fully relaxed and able to go that extra distance to complete whatever lies before me.

Whenever I do the marathon driving trips, like the one to Amsterdam earlier this year, during the 4500 km 2 day up and down drive, I stopped at a few lay-bys and napped for just 5 to 10 minutes, whenever I felt tired, which made it possible for me to reach back to Oulu in one piece and still raring to do another 4500 km!

Mathukuttychayan was a great teaser in the nicest possible way.

When I appeared at my sister, Naiini's wedding in Kottayam in 1959, wearing the newly released Hawai chappal, not seen anywhere but in Bombay, he was greatly intrigued by this rubbery contraption on my feet. He tried it on and found it most relaxing. So he started to tease me in a manner that I would hand over my prized possession to him.

I thought for a time that he was going to cross the line, but he kept his humour, assisted by my father, at a level that had me in splits of laughter, till finally, before I left back for Bombay, as I had my final Senior Cambridge exams just around the corner, I gave him my white blue strap Hawai Chappals, more in jest than as a gift. I teased him about this for several years. He loved that little joke between us!

When we went to Bombay in 1954, Mathukuttychayan was living in Byculla with his wife and their three children, Rajen, Thambi and little baby 3 year old Chacko (Daughter Thangam was born after they shifted from Mumbai to Kottayam in 1955).

Mathukuttychayan used to drop into see his sister almost every single evening. He loved her and depended on her for advice, although there was just two years separating them in ages.

When he was called to return to Kottayam to aid his eldest brother, the late Mr. K. M. Cherian (Chetpetappachen), who was running the newspaper after the death of my grandfather, it was a big blow as he had got used to Bombay life and especially the early evening in our home where my mom would give a shot of whiskey! (I do not know where she acquired the stuff as there was prohibition in Bombay during that time!)

The only evening he would not turn up was on Saturday.

On Sunday afternoon, all of us (including elder brother Mr. K. M. Philip, Peelukuttychayan, and his family, cousin Susykochamma and her husband (Mr. T. Thomas), would all drive as a family to Juhu Beach to enjoy delicacies mixed with sand on the beach, a swim and a lot of laughter.

It was a truly amazing time as it helped me in particular forget my great life in Bangalore and learn to enjoy the big city of Bombay.

We kids used to love his presence as he always came through the door with a great big smile on his face.

Later, whenever he came to Bombay on work from Kottayam, he used to stay at our house. He used to share the bedroom with me. He always checked whether I used his technique to relax. I was so adept at it by then that when I got up in the morning, I was usually an hour ahead of him and rushing to read the newspaper before him and complete the crossword before my father got a chance to do it.

His eldest son, Rajen, who was just a year younger to me has been the closest of all my cousins, getting into all sorts of mischief together, many of which have been described in blog entries. I owe my Presidentship of the JCR in St. Stephen’s College to the untiring efforts of him and his crazy gan of friends.

His two other sons, Thambi and Chacko, were also very close to us as the years rolled by.

All of them, including their sister Thangam, are shrouded in the love and affection that both their parents showed to the rest of the world.

Although we did not visit Kottayam with the regularity as when my grandfather was alive, every visit subsequently was such that we stayed at Mathukuttychayan’s house.

On one such visit, Annammakochamma was away. She had left Mathukuttychayan in charge of looking after us. He ordered the servants to prepare what he considered the finest meal he could serve up for our family. The table was laid out traditional Kerala style. The goodies arrived. We all tucked in, using our fingers, but one of the kids asked for a "fork".

There was a perplexed look on the faces of the servant, as the request for a fork was repeated.

The servant approached Mathukuttychayan and said something to him. He too was quite disturbed and apologized to me that he had ordered mutton, chicken, beef and fish to be served but did not know that we liked "pork".

When he caught the joke, he was rolling in raucous laughter, as were the servants!

The only time we crossed swords was on a matter of etiquette. He sent me a letter discussing many personal and completely private matters. I was greatly disturbed that this letter had been dictated to and typed by his personal secretary. In my reply I told him off. He sent a hand written personal note, which he later told me that he had gone to the post office by hmself to post it, apologising for his indiscretion.

On our last visit to Kottayam in 2009for his grandson's wedding, on the very first evening, before going to the wedding house for the family dinner, Annikki, Mika and I went directly to Mathukuttychayan's home on Mount Wardha. We had to wait a few minutes before we met him in his home office as he was having a bath. He was most apologetic about having kept us waiting.

He talked to us about all our children and how he was so happy that our daughter, Joanna, and her three children had come to see him in late summer. Especially touching was his conversation with our son, Mika, who broke all his personal rules and taboos of many years, and hugged his granduncle.

We spent almostan hour with him and had it not been for the dinner we would have spent more time with him.

I promised to visit him again before we left as he had said that he may not find it possible to be at the wedding.

But. on the wedding day, at the prayer ceremony, before the groom set out for the church, we found that he had made it possible to be there despite the great suffering he was going through.

From Jacob's Blog

He was photographed with all his family and especially insisted on taking a photograph with Annikki, Mika and me.

The day we were leaving Kottayam, I visited him in the office where he was just getting ready to be in the 10 am editorial meeting. At the age of 93 his mind was so sharp.

As Annikki was suffering from a cold she opted not to go in to see him as she was afraid she would pass on the infection. He was unhappy at not being able to say goodbye to her but was happy that both Mika and I had stopped just to say goodbye. Both of us knew that we would not see each other again and there were tears swelling in my eyes as we bade him farewell.

In an act so typical of him, he handed me an envelope as a gift. He had done the same when he was in Delhi to say goodbye to us in 1984. He told me as I left that anything I wanted was at my command. That was his way of showing his love for his sister's son and his wife.

This media mogul was a humble family man who loved his entire extended family and cared for them.

Our heart bleeds for this wonderful personality. He cared little for the various titles he had been awarded and powerful positions he had held, and hardly ever spoke of them.

His inner heart can be seen in the touching book he wrote about his wife after she left for her heavenly abode.

The deep loving and generous character of this individual has rubbed off on all his children.

I mourn you, dearest Mathukuttychayan. May your soul rest in peace.

When do you know you are OUT OF TOUCH?

One of the greatest thrills when driving in Mumbai was to drive towards Nariman Point on Marine Drive and see the latest Amul Ad flying at the corner of Veer nariman Road. I think the restaurant there has changed its name a few times.

The humour was raw and yet suttle. The banner always brought a smile to my face.

This morning I received a forward from a Cathedralite friend. It was a series of the latest Amul ads!

They flew straight over my head. I did not understand them or the humour that was intended to be conveyed.

I thought to myself of how much out of touch I must be with not only mainstream India but just India as the common folk see it!

Either Amul advertising agents have lost it or I have! ? :-)

Finland's hotest days

Forest fires are raging in Russia as temperatures crossed 40 C. The forests are like tinderboxes.

Finland was no worse yesterday, knowing the hotest day in this century from 1914 with the thermometer rising to 38 C.

Today it is both hot and humid, worse than the worst you get in Mumbai post-monsoon.

The Finns are reveling in the heat. Many may not go back to work on 2nd August if this weather continues.

That brings me to the basis of the one month's extra salary a Finn receives as "Holiday Money".

In the old days, after the war, almost all Finns took the month of July as holiday. The industrial activity would ground to a standstill.

If the sunny weather continued till the end of July, many many Finns would not report back for work in August.

To get them back to work, the companies started a bonus of paying a onth's salary to all those who did get back to work. It was called "LOMA RAHA". Although this was subject to 50% taxation, it was quite an incentive to get many Finns back to work.

However, over the years this became a worker's right and it got built into the system

That meant companies were paying 13 month's wages for 11 months work. This was specially hard at the time of the 1990 recession which was probably the longest and deepest in Europe.

Hence the sytem changed and now many companies do not offer this "Holiday Money" incentive and this is one reason why Finland uses a lot of outsourced workers in many different fields as they are not able to get this incentive in their pay packet.

When I was working in the University of Oulu, I was a double beneficiary. I never took my annual hlidays inJuly. that meant I got my holiday money and i was entitled to an extra week's holiday in winter. This meant I enjoyed 5 weeks holiday and as I could one week off for Christmas and New Year, I got 6 weeks instead of 4 plus an extra month's wages! Not bad!

I think much of this has changed today!

Crisps - Your favourite flavour?

Yesterday was another up and down drive to Helsinki - left at 4 am from Oulu and returned at 5 am today.

One of the things I do to keep awake while driving is I eat Crisps - one at a time. I finish a couple of packets on my way up and down. The roughness of the crisp cuts into the palette and I can stay awake!!

There are so many flavour varieties of crisps available these days. In Finland they sell them in 200 or 300 gm packets. The most common flavours are Cheese and Onion, Cheese and Sour Cream, Paprika, Barbecue, Garlic and Onion, Salt and Vinegar.

Recently they launched one with a Tomato flavour. I thought it would reduce the need to dip the crisps in tomato sauce, but I did not like it. Not that I use tomato sauce°

Which flavour do you like? Which is your favourite and why?

I like some of the flavours better than others, but I discovered that the plain unflavoured crisps is what I like best.

This raise many childhood memories at the back of my head of visiting a small hole in the wall shop in Colaba, called Victory Wafers, where they were churning out the stuff reeking with oil. We used to but large packets of them in brown paper bags and even before we reached home the paper was soaking with oil. (Wonder what oil they used then and what they use these days - sine I like them, they must be dangerous for my health!!)

Or my mom would brng them home on her way back from shopping and there would be a mad scramble of all the kids and my dad to get to them.

They were hot and crispy and I always wondered how they cut them so fine. Anyone know if Victory Wafers is still in existence?

These days, I stick to the plain variety. If I really have to buy another, I buy them in turns!

Swamiji's in Oulu

Staying at the Guest House in Oulu were two very learned Swamiji's from Palghat, Kerala. They have travelled extensively in Europe, and also Finland, over the last decade.

This was their first visit to Oulu as my personal guests.

The conducted 4 sessions. They were free.

I had opened their sessions especially to the Indians of Oulu as part of my intention to bring Indian culture here.

20 people responded, but the good weather, cricket practice and rainy weather kept them away. Only one turned up on each day.

There is usually a clamouring to do something for the community. But when I do, it usually gets ignored for other priorities.

But I do not give up, do I? Should I plan something for Independence Day?

Willis Conover and Jazz Hour

Willis Conover Host of Jazz Hour on VOA

I posted an entry on my Seventh Heaven Blog about Voice of America's Jazz Hour. I had replies telling me the name of the host and other details that had completely skipped my mind.

So I did some Google Searching and came up with some amazing facts.

Jazz Hour was stated in 1955 and was hosted by a guy with a deep baritone voice whose name was Willis Conover. The programme was not broadcast in the USA but it had over 100 million listeners world wide with about 30 million in the Communist countries. His way of handling the programme resulted in the Special English News Broadcasts that started in 1959!

Willis never mixed politics in his broadcasts, and as far as I can remember, it was an amazing programme of the best of American Jazz.

I was introduced to this programme by my dear friend 59er Ooky (Elias Elijah) in 1958 and listened to it as long as I could pick it up on my world band radio.

Willis Conover died in 1998 and the programme continued to 2003.

I am not a fan of "present day" music that passes as "Jazz". But that is Jazz - as it is non-structured but yet extremely structured.

One of the greatest pieces of jazz that I have heard is André Previn playing Bach accompanied by, I think, Shelly Manne, on the drums. My love for classical and Jazz merged with that!

Those were some days!

Peacocks

My beauty, inside and outside.

I was driving on my scooter to town yesterday when, coming in the other direction, was a lady on a cycle, with green hair, heavily painted eyes and lips, and with dramatic clothes.

I wondered why such a pretty young girl needed all this paraphernalia to attract attention. Or was she trying to attract attention?

I thought of our Indian National Bird, the Peacock, which spreads its beautiful feathers to attract attention of the opposite species.

I thought, that is what nature endowed it with. It did not need any external assistance.

Then I thought of myself, of what I do before I set out in the morning. I have a bath, brush my teeth, sometimes trim my moustache (mainly so that it is not a filter for my food intake, and also trim my beard, dress with the first things I see on my clothes shelf, comb my hair (why?) and set out into the world.

I feel confident and happy, immaterial of what I am wearing. I do not look to see whether others are disgusted or appreciative of what I look like.

But what about me?

I like to see people neat and clean, well dressed, and facing the world with confidence.

Did that young girl with her peacock approach appear confident to me?

I do not think so. I thought she looked desperate - maybe I am wrong.

People are naturally attractive. I do not believe that I have seen a person who was ugly, although, I must admit, some people appear more attractive than they really are because of what they may be wearing, or their stance, etc.

However, it is really only when you meet a person and talk to him or her, you really know whether they are beautiful, ugly, attractive or disgusting. That is the inner self reveals what a person is like.

I wondered what the peahen thought of the male after the initial spread of feathers?

Some things remind me of India

Indian Mangoes

After 26 years in the wilderness, a beautiful wilderness, there are some things that remind me of India but yet are not quite Indian.

Yesterday, after dinner, Annikki offered me a Israeli mango for dessert. It was so bad in taste that I had to ask her to take it away.

This evening, when I got home, there was a fragrant smell of a ripe mango, not overripe, but just right.

I looked at the three of the mangoes on the dining table and decided I would chance having one, despite my experience of yesterday.

I cut open one. It was obvious that this was the odd one out - it was delicious reflected in the smell, totally unlike yesterday's catastrophe.

But this got me thinking about Indian mangoes.

I have grown up on a diet of different types of mango - from the polymango at the school gate to the Banganapally, Mulgova, Langada, Badami, Raspuri and what they call the King of Mangoes - the Alphonso.

When we moved to India in 1969, for about a year we stayed in a small flat in the City Centre. Much against the wishes of all our family members we found a small house on the outskirts of Madras - Nandambakkam, where the colony was situated in a Mango Grove.

We had one ancient tree in our garden. It must have been a hundred years old. The old tree had a grotto facing the children's room. There lived a friendly snake who used to pop is head out and wish us the time of the day. It was too frightened to come out if we were around.

When Annikki's brother and his wife came to India for their honeymoon, we gave them that bedroom. Annikki casually mentioned our friendly snake - which was the cause of a disaster, as her sister-in-law could not sleep all night.

But the beauty of this old tree was the mango it produced. Each fruit was between 800 gm to a kilo. They were round like the Romany but bright yellow like the Alphonso. The fruits were jucier and sweeter than any other mango I have ever tasted.

Joanna, our younger daughter, was literally brought up on this mango juice, much to the horror of my older relatives who said that mango was too heaty for young children.

Joanna and all of us thrived on this tree for the time we were there.

The similarity to the Romany and this unnamed variety was how we ate it.

My dad had taught me that the easiest way to eat a round Romany mango was to cut it round the seed in the centre. Twist and the mango halves came apart and the seed ell away. One could spoon carve the mango out of the skin.

The mango I had today was nowhere near the taste of our Velacherri mango, but the smell was very close.

Oh for a good mango!

Speed cameras - A DANGER

Yesterday, I made a quick trip to Tampere, about 500 km south of Oulu.

I chose a route which is the shortest, rather than the conventional one which is the major artery. Although it is only a few kilometres shorter, the time indicated in the Navigator was almost an hour longer than the other route.

Driving along the smaller country roads was extremely pleasant. Even moren to my surprise, was that there was not a single speed radar camera on the route. This meant that I, and other drivers, were not constantly looking out for the traps. The driving was smooth and easy.

Everyone was observing the indicated speed limits. I did see a couple of Police Vans prowling the route, but no incidents.

The time taken was actually slightly less than the Fastest Route because of the fact that we did not have to keep braking for the cameras.

More important was that my fuel consumption was considerably less.

Two days ago, the State of Arizona in the USA outlawed the use of Speed Cameras as an invasion of privacy.

I had posted a comment there which tackled some important points.

One of the most important points I raised was that while driving at around midnight before sunrise, if I had my headlights on, I was able to see all the road signs. But if there was an on-coming car and I switched to my dip lights, I was unable to see the road signs and the change of speed signs, which usually precede a speed camera, and hence it was a violation of the law to haul anyone up in the dark hours for breaking the speed limit when caught by a speed camera.

The most important aspect is that it does no good to road safety. In fact is more of a danger.

Tne only reason that these speed cameras exists is to collect revenue from the motorists.

Google is amazing

At 4:20 (16:20) today, I put up my most recent blog entry and mentioned my experience yesterday with water plaining.

I was not sure whether I had used the correct word, plaining, as it is derived NOT from the words PLAIN or PLAN, but from PLANE! And there is no such word as PLANEING! The English Language does not allow this.

I thought I would check it out on Google. At 17:45, just less than 2 hours after I had posted my entry, the No. 1 hit on Google Search was my entry!

How do they do this?

I take my hats off to Google, an amazing company.

Two more days for registration

Many of you have asked how to do the registration for access to my blogs.

(Two comments on this subject as well.)

All you have is to send me an email telling me which blogs you want to access.

When I set up my settings, I will include your email address. That will enable you to access the appropriate blogs. No password will be required. You will get an email to the effect telling you that you have been registered to read a particular blog.

As there are over 10 blogs, I will only add you to the blogs you personally request.

I had an amazing drive to Helsinki yesterday. It was blistering hot on my way down. I drank many bottles of fluids, juices and water.

There was torrential rain when I left Helsinki at 5 pm. Im learnt for the first time what was water plaining. I lost control of the car as the water was rushing down the motorway. I got away without any damage and I drove at snail's pace when I was under the downpour.

From 2010 Kampitie

From 2010 Kampitie

When driving the last 300 km between 12 midnight and 2:30 am, I watched an amazing simultaneous sunset on my left and a sunrise on my right with an almost vertical rainbow at 1 am!.

What a wonderful world!

Orbituary of a friend

I was informed by the son, Venkatesh, of a dear friend in Chennai that his father had passed away.

Last year, on our Bharat Darshan of 2 months, I took time off to go and meet one of my dearest friends in Chennai, P. V. Laxminarayan. Our paths had crossed through Rotary and a common interest in Plastics. PVL or Laxmi, as he was known, used to work for Chemplast, a large PVC resin manufacturer in Mettur a couple of hundred kilometers from Madras (Chennai). He was the plant accountant. He really understood not only the process, but the entire economics of running a large resin manufacturing facility. It was not because he was interested in Plastics resin manufacture, but because he was genuinely interested in whatever he did.

Every time he came to Madras on a work or weekend visit, as his late father-in-law ran one of the most dynamic architecural and civil engineering companies in Chennai, C.R. Narayana Rao, we would spend the time at the Rotary, and then his wife, Sita would dish up some great vegetarian dosais or vadas or rasam or.....

Finally, he moved to Chennai and started his own Auditing practice. Besides helping him to join our local Madras South Rotary Club, he also became the Auditor and financial advisor to my Consulting Company.

He was never just my Auditor. He was my friend. He used to stay with me when I lived in Bangalore. He travelled with me and ate with me, even though he was a very strict vegetarian.

He came from the ultra-orthodox Madhva Community, but he never let it interfere in his daily life. He was conservative and yet progressive.

PVL had a tremendous sense of humour. He would have all in splits of laughter for hours on end.

But yet, he could be deadly serious and accurate when he did his accounting, helping me to stay well within the law.

When we were in Chennai, his sons, Venkatesh & Ramachandran, had organised a special event to felicitate their father. He was eager that I would attend, but unfortunately our time in India was so short that it was impossible to change our schedules. But, during the time I spent with him, his mind was agile and he was trying to help another of his clients with some export orders. He never forgot where his bread was buttered and did everything humanly posible to help all his clients.

His wife, Sita, has also been a dear friend. I was able to spend a few minutes with her also during this last trip.

I know that she will miss her husband every single hour of the day, just as I am missing him even at this distance.

Annikki and I convey our deepest condolences to Sita and her two sons, Venkatesh and Ramachandran, on behalf of all our children and ourselves for a dear family friend for over 3 and a half decades.

You will be missed PVL.

We remember you fondly with all your gaiety.

Let your soul rest in peace.

An important request to ALL our readers

Dear Readers of all our blogs,

It is with great sadness that we have to announce that we will now have to make all our major blogs accessible only to those who register with us.

The subjects we have covered over the years include the wrestler Dara Singh (probably the most popular and controversial blog entries, ever), St. Stephen's College, Delhi, Cathedral and John Connon School, Mumbai, Bishop Cotton School, Bangalore, the UN, talk Shows in the USA, politics, the Kandathil and Maliyakal families, Kampitie, Vesaisentie, Annikki's creative art, achievements of our children and grandchildren, CHAFF (Chamber for Assistance of Finns and Foreigners), Findians, our numerous friends, relatives, our travels, recipes, and life in general. Above all, t they contained the nostalgia the people love.

Due to circumstances far beyond our control, which affect the lives of many of our loved ones, we have to create the SETTINGS of our blogs so that only those whom we invite can read them. This is very sad as our blogs have reunited many friends across the continents.

With over 120000 readers around the world, some reading more than one of our blogs, for a decrepit old blogger and his wife sitting near the North Pole, this will prove to be a Herculean task, but one which has to be done for the safety, security and well being of many of our loved ones.

Please take the time and effort to send us an email telling us which of our blogs you want to be added to so that you can access them freely.

Our sincere apologies to each and every one of you lovely readers who have kept us going for almost a decade and a half by your readership, your inputs and your outputs!

Yours in great sadness as technology besides being a positive aspect of life can also be a very negative one.

Annikki and Jacob Matthan
Oulu, Finland

This makes me MAD!!!

On Friday afternoon, one of our Indian engineers called me at about half past two and said he was not feeling well. I rushed to his workplace and took him to his local health centre in Tuira, only to find it closed for the summer. I tried the main City Health Centre at Kontinkangas, but found it closed already by 14:00 hours because it was a Friday.

Reluctantly, I had to take him to the Oulu University Central Hospital (OYKS) Out Patients Section as that was the only place available. I warned my dear friend what was likely to happen as has been recorded in an earlier blog entry.

He was told to have some laboratory tests done and then wait to see the doctor. After a wait of about 45 minutes, we got to get blood and urine samples taken. At this point, the nurse was kind enough to tell us the results would not be ready for a couple of hours. She told us that we should inform the office that we would be back at 18:30!

We returned at 18:30 and informed the office we were back. Not much good as it took another two hours before we saw the doctor who prescribed an antibiotic and a mild pain killer. I was told to organise to take him to the Oulu City Out Patient Department on Monday for further investigations.

We went to Yliopisto Apteeki, the only Pharmacy open so late in the evening, picked up the medicines, and I then dropped off the young lad at his apartment. He was not looking comfortable, but I hoped that maybe he would get better by the morning.

Saturday was a very busy day as I was scrapping my Audi and adding a Opel Vectra to my rental fleet. The customer had arrived in Oulu from Amsterdam and was anxious to get the car. I always ensure that my cars are in good mechanical condition, so I after my morning work at the office I was in the garage supervising the car servicing. In the meantime I brought the lady and her beautiful 2 month old baby, Arvind, to the office to finish the rental paperwork. The lady is Finnish from Oulu, her husband is from india and they live in Amsterdam.

After that, we went back to the garage, but the car was still being serviced as my mechanic decided to change the timing belt - usually done after 60000 km. As little Arvind was getting restless, I gave my car to the lady to go home and I said that I would bring the Vectra to her when it was ready. Just when the car was getting ready to hit the road, I had a call from our engineer, who said the pain had increased considerably and was almost unbearable. I promised I would be there as soon as possible. I took the Vectra to the lady's home on the outskirts of Oulu, only to find, that like me, she has a problem about remembering to switch off the lights. The battery was dead in my VW Vento. So I rushed back to Ahmatie, picked up my battery power loader, rushed to pick up the engineer and his friend, took them to the hospital, checked him in, telling the nurse that he had to see a doctor immediately.

The stupid nurse did not want to understand why I was desperate and she was trying to send the boy back home. However, because I insisted, she finally gave in and asked him to wait.

I knew it would take an hour or so, so I rushed off, exchanged the cars and got back to OYKS.

The poor boy was in great agony. Unable to stand seeing him writhing I made a fervent plea to the nurse to get the doctor to see him immediately. When we had reached, this poor youngster hardly had any fever, but now he was boiling. The temperature had reached 102 F (39 C). I made a second plea to the office and this time after another 15 minutes (about 2 hours since we had originally checked in) the doctor saw him. She decided to run the tests again, but my engineer friend was quite adamant that he could not wait sitting there as the pain was above the bearable threshold.

So we got a bed for him, they gave him a infusion pain killer and they brought the lab equipment to get his tests done again.

At that point it was decided to admit him into the hospital for observation. We left the engineer in the care of the hospital for the night.

I was there at 8 am to see him. He was feeling better as he was being given antibiotics by infusion and also he was having the pain killer. It was nice to see him smiling.

What infuriates me is the inability of Finnish doctor's to make any diagonis without a full set of results. They have absolutely no deductive skills. They are inexperienced as they just do not see enough patients to make a holistic assumption.

Further to have an Out Patient Department where the priority is for ambulance patients and then for children is just plain stupid. They should do the first assessment as a patient enters the hospital and make sure the priorities are fixed based on the condition of the patient.

If action had been taken immediately, this young engineer would not have to go through hell before he was to get the primary assistance!

All of you know that Annikki and I have written about this, sometimes even in jest - but this is past jesting. But the experiences with an 85 year old lady has certainly made us mad.

If you are an Indian working in Oulu, please check with your company that you can be treated in a private hospital - as I do not like seeing my young friends being subjected to this form of Finnish torture!

By the way, this is how Raantel Oy in Oulu looks after is tenants! :-)

The background to "Loma raha"

Many of you have been asking me as to the background to the "lomaraha" that many Finns receive. It is equal to a month's extra salary (but taxed at 50%). The translation means "Holiday Money".

In the old days, Finns would take the whole month of July of from work, to recover from a hard winter and to enjoy the summer sunshine. Work in the entire country would drag to an almost full stop as the Finns pushed off to their holiday homes, etc.

If the summer had been great and the look of August being an Indian Summer was a prospect, many Finns would not turn up for work on the 1st of August.

The Finnish companies had a real problem as this is a small country and every person's input counted.

To counteract this trend, the employers started an incentive called "Holiday Money".

If the people came back from their holiday on the 1st of August, they got a bonus of a month's salary.

This practice continued till finally it became enshrined as a worker's right.

Soon, everyone was getting an extra month's salary as "Lomaraha".

For 11 month's work the Finns got 13 month's salary.

I do not know if this system is still prevalent, but all through my working life I did enjoy the extra month's salary.

In my case, as I did not take my annual holiday in July, I got an extra week's holiday in December. Instead of 4 weeks paid annual holiday, I got 5 weeks. With one week off for Christmas and New Year, that made it 6 weeks. As I planned to give some lectures in India or UK, I got one week extra as a working week off from work - making it 7 weeks. 13 months salary for 10 months and 1 week work!!!!

Of course, this old man is now on a perpetual holiday! :-)

Midsummer Rose Blooms again

Every year, without fail, the Midsummer Rose at Kampitie, at least one, opens up and blooms. This year was no exception.

From 2010 Kampitie

There has been a dramatic change in the front garden at Vesaisentie, where Annikki has used a novel concept of placing wooden pavings, to complement her stone ones.

From 2010 Kampitie

They look unusual and great.

What a cosmopilitan mix

My Nordkapp Mini Bus trips are proving to be popular and quite a cosmopolitan mix.

Last week we had 3 Finns, 2 Indians, 1 Romanian and 1 Zambian (4 ladies and 3 gents). This week, we have 3 Chinese, 3 Indians, 2 Sri Lankans and 1 Sudanese (5 ladies and 4 gents). Next week....??

I was planning to make the trip this week with two friends. But, we had a last minute request from one of my Chinese tenants in Raantel Oy Furnished Apartments to accommodate her and two friends, so we moved aside to give them the chance to see the sight of a lifetime.

The route is the same as on the first trip. The pictures from Sandra are amazing. I am supposed to indicate my top 10, which has proved impossible at the moment. Each of her compositions is like a picture postcard.

I have, however, chosen one so far....

Saana Mountain, Kilpisjärvi, Finland. (Copyright Sandra Rugina, 2010)

This surrealistic picture of Saana Mountain, the sacred mountain of the Lappish people, the original nomadic inhabitants of northern Scandinaviaa and Finland, near Kilpisjärvi, is just one of her photos from the trip.

What composition, what detail, what an effect it has on you!

I will upload Sandra's 10 top photographs over the course of summer as I report on each visit to Nordkapp.

In the meantime, may I invite you to make this experience this summer!

Is this THE Dara Singh?

As many of you may have noted, my blog entry about Dara Singh and the other wrestler's of the 1950s are some of the hotest pages that I have. The controversy rages, and even as I try to put it out, it flares up again.

Now I have an email from Mahabir. He has sent me some photographs of a person whom he says is the Dara Singh.

From Dara Singh

From Dara Singh

From Dara Singh

I cannot think that it is the Dara Singh that I watched!

First Nordkapp trip travellers return

It was at about 00:30 am on Monday morning when I got the call from Hannah, the tour guide of our Nordkapp trip, that the Mini Bus was just leaving Kemi. I told her I would be at the office to meet them.

From Nordkapp Tours

 The Ford Transit 9 Seater which took the travellers to Nordkapp and back.

The tired group of travellers, 3 Finns, 2 Indians, 1 Romanian and 1 Zambian arrived at India House at 01:30.

Their journey, which had started on Friday afternoon at 14:00 hours, had been arduous, but as I understood, quite exciting. Although the cloudy skies prevented them from witnessing the Midnight Sun at the horizon, they certainly got a glimpse of the beauty of Northern Finland and Northern Norway. Two of the Finns were so experienced that our Tour Guide only had to translate what the two were saying!!!

I quickly glanced through the 300+ photographs that trip photographer, Sandra Rugina, had taken. There are some really great ones in the collection. She is a truly outstanding photographer. She can capture that moment that counts.

I will put up the best ones as soon as Sandra gets the top 10 to me.

Am I a crazy dosai lover?

Many of you have asked me why I get so excited when I am served Masala Dosai in Oulu. You can get a reasonable dosai in every street corner in India. To an average Indian, my excitement will seem foolish.

Unfortunately, the availability of a dosai in many parts of the world is strictly limited. When one is served one, and after a lengthy period of not having even seen one on the horizon, the excitement knows no bounds as the juices start their work even before the first morsel is in the mouth.

From Annikki's Oulu Masala Dosai

From Annikki's Oulu Masala Dosai

From Annikki's Oulu Masala Dosai

Yesterday, Annikki produced a superb dosai meal for me with a tasty tomato curry. The filling was a spicy potato mix. I enjoyed three of them in one go.

The reason for the arrival on the table was that Annikki found that a good small coffee grinder can churn the Urad Dal into the right powdery consistency, something she could only do before with a heavy duty coffee grinder which we have left behind in our old home. Too heavy!

I hear that Nushrat and Arindamof the Indian Cuisine Restaurant are still in the planning stage of launching the Oulu Masala Dosai after they get a good South Indian cook. 

Sorry, can't wait for that. My wife certainly learnt the right things from her 15 year sojourn in India - which shows all over me! :-)

Thanks, Annikki, for the Dosai. Thanks to you people out there for taking time to read this entry dictated by my pot belly!