Atmosphere

I stretched my arms and breathed a sigh of relief, having just launched the biggest project of the year at work. I shut down my computer, switched off the lights, and locked the doors. I was about to embark on my grand voyage through China the very next day. Several meters away from my office stands the recently opened World Trade Center Phase 3 tower. I walked into the gleaming new lobby. Eighty floors later I was in the highest bar in Beijing. The aptly named Atmosphere provides a panoramic view of the city, from the modern skyscrapers of downtown to the sprawling structures of an imperial capital.

I was meeting up with my friends in Beijing, some of whom would have left the country by the time I returned from my trip. Coincidentally, we bumped into the CEO of my company and several other higher ups. An office ARNABabe who was at my table spotted them. The two groups awkwardly combined, as I introduced my colleagues to my friends - my onetime Irish roommate, a scintillating Malaysian diplomat, a Nokia employee, a couple of ABC's (American Born Chinese), and a tousle haired iPhone application developer. After having a few drinks and reminiscing about our past escapades, we parted ways.

*****

“Don't be dismayed at goodbyes, a farewell is necessary before you can meet again and meeting again, after moments or lifetimes, is certain for those who are friends.” ~ Richard Bach

A Civilized Urinating

In China, an urinal primarily functions as an ashtray for the masses. Cigarette butts fill the urinal while the actual urine collects in a pool on the ground below it. These streams then form into tributaries of the Yellow River. Authorities have tried to reduce the popularity of this floor-peeing phenomenon by displaying instructions above urinals notifying potty patrons on correct usage of the facilities:

 "Thinking of making things easy for other before urinating"

"It's civilized to get close to urinate"

"You can enjoy the fresh air after finishing a civilized urinating"

"Closer, Easier"

Unfortunately, the clever signage has been unable to stem the tide of long distance urination. The motivational messages have met with little success. The urinal remains too close for comfort.

The Safety Notice for Passenger

China Rail High-Speed, abbreviated CRH, is the premiere rapid train service in the country. Operating since 2007, the CRH trains can go at speeds exceeding 230km/h. Between looking at the scenery outside, sleeping, eating, and watching the other passengers get into fights with each other over trivialities, I enjoy endless minutes of jocularity from reading the safety pamphlet available on board the trains:

1. It is forbidden to take with or consign the flammable, explosive, corrosive, posionous, radioactive, and other dangerous articles, including the forbidden knives.

2. The ticket checkage will be stopped before the train’s departure. Please pay attention to the stop time of checking, get on train or stand within safety line on platform for waiting before it.

3. Please stand the queue during get-on and get-off. When getting on after the get-off, please don’t crowd. It is forbidden to pass through under train, climb to roof, jumb off station, enter railway track, and so on. It is forbidden to follow the running train for get-on and get-off before stopping.

4. During the trip, don’t be crowded, lying on the door, and don’t pull (or push) the emergency brake valve handbrake handle, emergency brake button, and other safety facilities at random.

5. Smoking is forbidden at any position inside the train.

6. Under the conditions which may effect the safety of the train and the passengers, please follow the crew’s instruction, keep order, and help the elder, children, illness, disabled, pregnant, and others who need help, but don’t be urgent to take luggage. In case of emergency, please notice the crew in time.

7. In case of the get-off which is necessary during emergency, you can break the safety window by a special hammer for escape. If on Electric Multiple Unit, you can also push the emergency stopping button above the compartment end door.

Let The Bullets Fly

The shells ricocheted off the walls as the loud rat tat tat of heavy gun fire resonated all around me. I took my position, gripping the trigger of the sniper rifle firmly in my hand. I looked carefully through the scope, one eye closed, fingers steady, before squeezing down on the trigger. The bullet left the barrel at blazing speed. As it was my first time using a gun, the force of the kickback caught me by surprise. I paused to adjust my grip before emptying the remainder of my cartridge.

I put my glasses on to see if I had hit my target. I was at the China North International Shooting Range. The attendant beside me started giggling. The black and white rings on my target paper remained unscathed. I had completely missed. Usually these sheets of paper are given to participants as souvenirs, but mine was reused since it looked brand new. With steely resolve in my veins and eyeglasses back on my face, I switched to an AK-47 assault rifle and a Beretta handgun. I rarely missed the mark in the remaining sessions of target practice.

Half an hour before, I had been taken to an exhibition room displaying the various forms of pistols, rifles, shotguns, machine guns, grenades, rocket launchers, and flamethrowers I could try out at the shooting range. After selecting my arsenal, I had gotten into the back of a military vehicle that took me to the actual outdoor firing range. Located near Beijing on land formerly used for army barracks, the ballistic bullet park provides a controlled environment to try out the deadly devices. Starting from 10 RMB per bullet, prices rise steeply as the weapon of choice becomes exceedingly ridiculous. For instance, the child beside me in the shooting gallery was using a mortar to pound large holes into a mound of earth a hundred meters ahead of him.

*****

"If you make a gun, you are either going to sell it or you are going to use it. And if you're going to sell it, someone else is going to use it." ~ Arthur Boyd

My Name is Arnab

When an exiled hero returned home after many years having vanquished a demon king, his countrymen laid out rows and rows of lighted lamps ("deepavali") to welcome him back. Nowadays Deepavali, or Diwali in condensed form, marks the triumph of good over evil. Observed by many people in different parts of the world, the festival of light has transcended religious and national boundaries. Every year the Indian Embassy in China hosts a cultural event to celebrate Diwali.

This was my second Diwali in Beijing. I had met my good friend Swathish during the previous year's jamboree, so we commemorated our one year anniversary in style. After a brief speech by the Indian ambassador which I missed, Indian and Chinese performers sang and danced to both traditional and modern tunes. This was followed by a fireworks extravaganza and then dinner, which was the primary motivation for attendance for a large segment of the audience. Accompanied by an ARNABombshell and several other ARNABuddies, Swathish and I retraced our steps from the previous year. We concluded the evening with a nightcap at a lake side bar cosily located within nearby Ritan Park, the beats of Bollywood music still resonating in the background.

As I was leaving the embassy premises, I heard someone calling my name. "Arnab! Arnab! Arnab!". I saw an Indian lady I did not recognize rush towards me. I was unperturbed. A man of my immense dignity is accustomed to receiving outpourings of affection from random females. "Arnab! Arnab!". The woman continued past me to a child who had wandered on to the street. Now I was intrigued. She picked up the infant and let out a sigh of relief. "Arnaaaab". I was no longer the only Arnab in town! I looked at her and said "My name is Arnab". She gave me a look of disdain before walking back into the embassy with her son in tow.

*****

"Happy Diwali!"