Sydney vs Mumbai... Space on the waterfront

Space, literally and figuratively speaking, is a much battered word in today's times. It increasingly characterises cosmopolitan cities like Mumbai and Sydney.

Mumbai, where I come from, was impossibly open spaced. It didn’t have boundaries, it was open, binding and enmeshed. A synergy ran deep within the rapid pace and growth of the city. Culturally, it was solid and retained its original flavour despite the suburbia invasion, embracing people from all walks and (Indian) states alike. Curious and welcoming in the same breath. Cosmopolitan, entertaining to the last designer boot, life ticked constantly and one could tune in any second, minute or hour of the day, no questions asked.

Sydney, on the other hand, is somewhat close spaced. There is an unspoken boundary, a certain line that cannot be crossed, bordering on aloofness despite the mixed population. Beneath brash and liberal tolerance, lies an isolated heart I suspect due to mass migration. The pot pourri of various cultures filtered into Sydney, recreating different countries to get a sense of belonging. The solid heritage architecture and magical waterfront maintained ground while millions sought homes of their own, away from their own homes.

After Mumbai's distinctive spirit in diversity, Sydney's myriad contrasts were rather startling; detached yet connected, friendly yet aloof, sordid yet pleasant, soothing yet harsh, ugly yet stunning, vast yet restricted.

One look at the incredibly blue skies though... and all negatives erase. The seductive blend of water and land is intoxicating. The waterfront, the harbour, the beaches, the trees, parks... nature sucks you right in.

There is no escaping the landscaped splendour of Sydney. Therein, lies its spirit.

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Sydney Diary... Vocab, winter coats and travels

"How are you going?" someone asked me my first week at work. I wondered why: "Umm, I will be getting the bus back home."

"No, no, I mean, how are you doing...?"

"Err, oh ok, well, I am fine, thank you!" I mumbled.

That was my first lesson out of the Aussie vocabulary book. There were others.

When someone says: "Sorry," you say: "You are alright", "You right" or "Awwright".

Though I still can't get myself to ask, "How are you going?", I have adopted some of the words. My personal favourites, perhaps British-born knackered (meaning exhausted) and whinge (meaning complain), I attribute to my convent school education.

Then there was my piquant accent. 'P' and 'W' were always heard as 'B' and 'V', my surname being Parkar, I heavily relied on 'P' for Paris to see me through those customer service calls.

Of course, I am complimented many times over my impeccable English and I do make it a point to dispel those myths: India has as many good and excellent English teaching schools.

Four months on, even as I warmed up to the Aussie words, the cold weather hit me black and blue. All those romantic notions about winter coats and long leather boots crashed when the chill set in. Once I got acclimated, it was lovely to walk around and discover the city. The winter gear soon regained its lost glory.

Little streets, cafes, restaurants, walkways, beaches, parks, museums, libraries, bridges and tourist spots, much to see. Work was very close to Sydney Harbour Bridge, a great boon. Meaning easy access to The Rocks, Circular Quay, Opera House, King Street Wharf and Darling Harbour.

My first acquaintance and now dear friend, Kate, had benevolently driven me around some distant places like Mosman, Taronga Zoo and some lush green portions of North Sydney already. I met her in my second week in Sydney for an interview. Though the job did not work out, we kept in touch. A renowned media personality, she is great fun and company, well-read and well-travelled.

I find this truly remarkable quality with most Aussies, renowned or local, they are chilled out and very chatty. There is never a dull conversation or moment, weather, books, movies, politics, beer, wine, food... a topic is always out there. Expectedly, Indian food and Bollywood theme parties are popular.

There is even a Bombay-Delhi kind of rivarly going on with Melbourne. Not to forget the East-West divide. The war is openly declared on the footy ground, the favourite Aussie game. PS: I loyally marched to an AFL match at Sydney Olympic Park and supported Sydney Swans. PPSssst: A scene from Dil Chahta Hai was shot at the Olympic Park station, another reason to go.

Then there were those buzzing festivals: Sydney Writers, French Film, Sydney Film and the colourful Mardi Gras, which was a night out with my diverse hostel crowd. For all its guts, glory and grandeur, the Mardi Gras parade is definitely worth a watch.

The defining NRI moment happened when Asha Bhosle was in town for a concert performing with an American band Kronos Quartet and I bought a $90 ticket to attend it. Ok, so the venue was the Opera House but still...

Finally, the night life in Sydney is as happening as any other city in the world. There's the good and the other. Booze, bash and the hardcore stuff, the quintessential underbelly very much exists.

Underbelly, now that's another much-used Aussie word...

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Sydney... Love at first flight

I landed in Sydney for the first time on Monday, January 15, 2007. Now this may sound weird but "we" connected instantly from Day 1. Sydney had this amazing positive vibe going for me. The airport terminal felt familiar, I bought a phone card and walked out towards the cab stop like it was a routine.

One week in, armed with 2 job interviews and the Sydney map book, I scouted through the city looking for a job. Two weeks in, I moved into a hostel from my uncle's home so I could be closer to the city and on my own. The picture above was taken from an overbridge on Victoria Road close to Sydney city.

The hostel was my first chapter view of Sydney: picturisque, cosmopolitan, friendly and buzzing yet aloof, mysterious and secretive. Arrivals and departures were constant. It had a good bunch of people from across the world: two Spanish journalists on an assignment, 1 Korean and two Italians learning English, Canadian, German, Indian and Mauritian studying. Some locals, too. An Australian guy had a room in the hostel for 8 years and was protective of his rice cooker, called it his 'wife'. Then, this mysterious French guy who wore a mysterious black hat to hide his face, spoke to no-one; we called him the French murder mystery.

A month in, I had four interviews but no job. Thankfully, cinemas in Sydney had some cheap deals and I spent my days watching movies. But the $1900 cash I had arrived with was fast dwindling despite my otherwise frugal existence. Just when I thought I was watching my last movie before the flight back home, I got lucky. A phone call dragged me out of the ending of 'Little Children'; I had landed a temporary role in my area of work, this time without any interview, one of the interviewers had called back with another opportunity. I had to join in 3 days! The adventure was over...

It was time to find a house two months on, I was missing my own space. I zeroed in on 3 places, viewed two and chose one. My new flatmate had a fully furnished home, I just had move in with my suitcases, the perfect place to be in.

I was home.

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Welcome aboard... Bombay to Sydney

I decided to move from Bombay to Sydney on a hunch.

4 reasons why I picked Sydney:

• I loved the sound of it: S Y D N E Y
• It kind of rhymed with Bombay
• The shops were open until 6 pm most days and Thursdays, 9 pm!
• This was the only place I could get a job in my own field

Yes, this bags the honour of being among the top 5 crazy things I have done in my life. If I didn't get the job, the other three reasons would have deposited me right back to B O M B A Y.

It was a pretty, clear day as the flight descended into Sydney. I had spent the 11-hour (or was it 12) journey in a blur, having said my goodbyes to family and friends, flying into unfamiliar air territory. Reading 'Persepolis' is the only part I remember.

As I looked out the window, I saw the most beautiful lush green landscape ever, and as the flight turned horizontal, the stunning ocean blue of the water.

It was love at first sight. That one moment was reassuring, and somehow I knew then that I was going to make it.

Sydney was the right choice.

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Am I Aussie enough... or does the Indian linger?

After 2 years as a "Permanent Resident" in Sydney, I am now eligible to apply for my Australian citizenship if I wish to, which for all practical reasons, is a wonderful thing. The waiting period has now been extended to four years. I was among the lucky few who made it to the finishing line just before the rules were changed.

Am I Aussie enough... to warrant a citizenship? My instinct says 'No'.

My Indian roots are firmly entrenched like blood within my system. I think Indian, I talk Indian, I walk Indian, and I feel Indian. I cannot and would never change that fact.

I decided not to visit India for the first two years because I wanted to give this a good shot. The idea was to have an open mind, explore Australia and eventually settle down here if I like it enough. It was tougher than I thought.

Come to think of it, it was a crazy move! I hadn’t been to Sydney at all when I first flew in and I didn’t know a soul. All I had was a maternal uncle (I wasn’t really in regular touch with him) who was kind enough to put me up for a couple of weeks.

I moved into a hostel soon. After that, it was my own journey with some help from my brother who lived in Perth at the time.

Settling down was the priority. I found a job and a house, which was the easy part. The harder bits were missing the mundane from back home: the local baniya store, regular haircut and beauty parlour, bhajiwala, fruitwala, the works. Oh no, these practicalities didn’t cross my mind for a second; I was too excited with the move.

It took me over one month to find decent fresh chillies. Fresh Indian green chillies are only available in Asian grocery stores occasionally, the only other option is frozen chillies from an Indian shop.

I didn’t ever think, will I miss the taste of green chillies, will I miss the sound of auto rickshaws, will I miss the saas-bahu TV shows, and will I miss the taken-for-granted luxury of home delivery?

And then, of course, I missed things like the roads, nooks and corners, the smell, the noise, the chatter.

Finally, extremely and an awful lot, I missed the people: my parents, friends, colleagues, extended acquaintances. So much so, that for 6 months, I couldn't make new friends because I still missed the ones I left behind.

However, Sydney has been wonderfully liberating and an eye-opener in many ways. Why and how, I will leave that for my next blog. Suffice to say with its similarities to Mumbai in terms of being multi-cultural, cosmopolitan and of course, the stunning water views, Sydney kept me going.

I have grown to love Sydney now, I must admit; however it hasn’t seeped into my system enough for me to embrace it yet.

I am told I would retain 50 per cent of my Indian citizenship if I do apply. I wouldn’t bet on the exact percentage of my feelings for each country at this point but I am pretty sure Australia hasn’t reached the 50 per cent mark yet.

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