“Posh” is the word that comes to mind when you see the houses on the Buda side. Huge and well lit, they fit into the hillside, as if there were ready made slots available for them. This seems to be the bastion of the rich. The winding roads are lit by orange lanterns spaced well enough so that the alleys are shrouded in shadows. In spite of its affluence, it is a little creepy to walk along the dark streets of Buda. But then, that is also an experience to imbibe.
I landed up in Moskva Ter in the evening, and probably for the first time in Budapest, I was confused. It is situated at the base of a small hillock. There are tram tracks everywhere (one even makes a complete loop around the place). These are not the old yellow trams that run on the Pest side. They are spanky new ones. Youngsters speed along in their sports cars, creating a deafening noise. It is scary even to cross the road. Bus stations everywhere add to the confusion. It took me some time to bear my findings…er…I mean, find my bearings, and it took even more time to find which way I have to head.
Batthyany ut starts off as a small street. There was some sort of art gallery out there, with the rich and affluent pouring out on to the street, dressed in immaculate suits and evening gowns. Their haughtiness was on display – they wouldn’t even give way to the passer-by on the street. I took a detour, and suddenly found myself at the back gate of the citadel. And there, going down steeply, were a flight of stairs. The narrow steps lined with trees and little lamp posts looked romantic and enticing, prompting me to head down them. A few minutes later, it had turned a little scary. The place seemed to be taken out of the 1960s film-noir - Under-lit and isolated. At times I would spot some couple dressed formally for the evening. At the foot of the steps, was Batthany ut, now a widened and busy street, and as I reached the end of the street, I stood staring at the partly lit spectacle of the parliament.
“Are you going to waste that?” I asked Snag, pointing to the yoghurt.
She: “No! I will eat it”
Me: “Did you know that 400 people have died in Guatemala due to starving?”
She: “Where is that?”
Me: “Central America”
She: “Then why can’t the North Americans (USA) help them out?”
She even pointed out that I waste so much jam everyday!
“Let’s walk to office today”, she said after getting out of the train. “Are you sure?” I asked. “Yes. It’s nice and healthy to walk in the morning.” She said. “But I won’t carry your bag for you” I warned. “I know!” she said grudgingly. As we walked along she again brought up the topic which has been a source of argument. “This place looks a lot like Bangalore. Those flats remind me of Marathalli”. “In which sense? I don’t see any resemblance. This road has eight lanes. Where in Marathalli do you have eight lanes?” I asked. “Of course you have!” she retorted back. “The only difference is, in India, the footpath, and the buildings next to the road are built on these lanes!”
Snag’s love for paprika grew today. “It is called Piros Arany” informed Gabor, when she inquired about the “Paprika Chutney”. “It is a paste of paprika, with salt” he continued, “You also get powdered paprika”. “Oh! That’s nice!” she beamed,”we can use it with dosa and all, like chutney powder”
“It’s very quiet here” I told Gyula, “In India, we would always be celebrating someone’s birthday…or, there would be a cricket match going on.” He seemed amazed, ”Really? You can play cricket in office? How much space do you have for that?” “They don’t need any space for it.” Snag interjected, “Even with a little space, they will start off”. “The one thing I like here...” she remarked “...is that people don’t talk about cricket!”
“Are there lions in Hungarian forests?” asked Snag, during lunch
“No.” replied Gyula
“What about bears?”
“No”
“Deer?”
“What’s that?”
“Well… small, brown, have white dots, horns?”
“No.”
“If there are no lions in the forest, why do they have lion statues everywhere? I mean, in the palace, on the bridge?”
I quickly pointed out: “Well, lion is the king of all animals, so the king might have thought it is a good symbol. And do you know that the lion never hunts? The lionesses do all the hunting.”
She seemed happy. “Yes, I know. It is the same with guys in India!”
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