Boston Journal

After 15 years in Manhattan, the move to Boston has been a lot of fun. Boston makes a great impression on visitors and residents alike. Here are my initial impressions and experiences.

I. CRACK.

That was the first impression I had of Boston as I settled into my first month of work here. Not crack in the sense that we use in urban vernacular. But in the sense that the Irish use it. A fellow parent at my son’s school, who is Irish, once told me that in an Irish bar, when it gets going and the atmosphere is one of great loud fun with multiple conversations going around the bar in full flow, there is ‘crack’ in the air. That was the impression I had as I settled the first evening in downtown Boston in my corporate apartment right next to Fenuil Hall. There were several bars around the building where I stay, and as the evening progressed, I would hear ‘crack’ floating through my window glass.

For a while I thought as I lay in bed, that I would not be able to sleep. But soon, the 5 hour drive to get to Boston and the anticipation of what the morning held, lulled me into a comfortable sleep as the waves of conversation and laughter receded from my consciousness.

II. GOING AROUND THE BLOCK.

I suppose I am not the first or the last person to be dismayed by this inevitable discovery. In Boston, if you go around the block, you don’t come around the block! Coming from a linear grid layout such as Manhattan, Boston can get you if you assume that blocks are anywhere close to being square or rectangular. My apartment is by Quincy Market as well as the city aquarium and the location attracts quite a flow of visitors during the weekends.

One weekend morning, I was strolling up a well visited street called State Street, when a family in a Dodge Caravan rolled up close to me and stopped. The driver looked up to me and his wife next to him had a big map laid out on her lap. He asked if I knew the way to the aquarium. I explained I was new, but knew that the aquarium was no more than 2 blocks to the north. He thanked me and as he rolled up his window, I could hear their kids in the back getting restless.

Coffee and newspaper in hand, I continued strolling. To my bemusement, within just a few minutes, the same van stopped in front of me this time driving perpendicular to the direction he was headed in the last time. The window was rolled down, the wife looking at the map in exasperation. The driver recognized me and grinned at me sheepishly. I grinned back – sheepishly.

III. MUSEUM HOMES.

My wife MK and I were going to break the news of our moving to our son RK gradually. We did not want to deal with a summer of endless questions about why we were moving to Boston from New York. Our thought was make Boston attractive and comfortable and ever so slowly begin the process of indicating the fact that we were moving to him. This way, by the time we explicitly said so, it would not be a surprise to him.

But that clearly did not stop us from visiting neighborhoods and in subsequent visits, homes that we would consider buying. One Sunday we were visiting a home in Brookline which had an open house. The house was quite pretty indeed and nicely appointed. I would emphasize to RK not to touch anything. As we toured this home, RK wearing a mildly puzzled expression, but not surprised that his parents would drag him through dull boring days asked, “Dad, is this place a Museum or something?” My wife and I realized it was time to begin the process of breaking the news of our move to our son.

IV. HOME OF THE ‘PUTT’.

My golfing friends will recognize instantly when I mention the Ryder Cup championship we won in the 90’s when the U.S. team wore those ugly brown shirts with photographs on them. More importantly we will remember it as the championship of Justin Leonard’s long rolling undulating victory putt. Well, that championship was played in the Brookline country club. We passed by it during our neighborhood visits. I idly asked our realtor what the wait was to get into a club like that – his answer was mixed with a grunt of disbelief that I would even ask that question.

V. LONGFELLOW.

Back on the theme of being lost. We had rented a car and took down detailed directions of how to get to our destination. As we tried to make our way I believe we visited spots in Boston we would not have visited otherwise. We were lost by the Boston Commons, lost by the Public gardens, lost in Beacon Hill.

MK was staring at her map in exasperation and I was grinning sheepishly at no one in particular. Soon we spotted a big boulevard. Hoping for some relief I hopped on to it.

Serendipitously we found ourselves on Longfellow bridge looking into Cambridge, which was not our destination. Our travails suddenly washed away as we contemplated the poet and the beauty of Cambridge in front of us.

VI. GREEN MONSTER.

My team had arranged a fun Friday evening. We gathered along with a bunch of other colleagues we had invited along to go to Fenway park to see the Red Sox play. The excitement among the Bostonians in the group was palpable. They looked at me suspiciously and asked me if I was a Yankee fan. I admitted that 14 years in New York had not shaken my early passion for the Philadelphia sports teams. That appeared to mollify them a bit.

After braving a relentless downpour the game got started under the lights at Fenway park. I have to admit that a visit here is indeed magic. The way the park is laid out, the great big green wall in front called the green monster, the intimacy of the layout and enthusiasm of the fans made it a great occasion to participate in. I do admit I could not stay past ‘Sweet Caroline’ (they play that after the 8th inning is over).

VII. PAWK THE CAWR.

I love accents. I love recognizing accents. I once delighted a receptionist who answered a business call I was placing if she was from Chicago, which she was. I had a very poor start with recognizing accents though. In the 80s, I once confused a Texan accent (which I had never heard before) with a British accent!

From Maine to Memphis I have delighted in hearing accents. My favorite is an urbanite-local pronouncing the names of the unpronounceable concoctions on offer at a Memphis airport Starbucks. I heard a linguistics professor on radio once talk about how even the today’s age of homogenization local accents have become even more pronounced that ever before.

Which brings me to Boston accents and “Pawking Cawrs”. I wanted to hear a Bostonian say ‘Pawk the Cawr’ in the most Bostonian way possible. My desire was soon granted. I met the postman in my apartment building one day. I struck a conversation with him. I tried my best to steer the conversation to cars and parking. It was, I admit, a glorious exposition of Boston speak, which will I am sure be a benchmark against which I will compare other Boston accents in the months ahead.

XI. Upside Down


One of the advantages of suffering the cold of the winter up here in New England is that the snow is plentiful. Now, the aficionados all will talk about the 'quality of the powder' as they head towards Vail or Steamboat Springs. But for us novices, New England snow was good enough.

We thought it would be good to get RK started with skiing. We started going to local hillocks with bunny slopes where he could start learning the feeling of going downhill and shouting 'weeee...'. As I left him with the instructor, I said to him, "don't worry if the world looks upside down'. He looked puzzled as he disappeared into the group of 12-14 kids all with their skiis on their shoulders and masked with a variety of colorful caps. My wife standing next to me, then asked the question, perhaps with a degree of motherly concern, "Upside down? What do you mean?"

I took similar classes in the early 90s, coincidentally in New England. When you take lessons for the first time, what you quickly learn is that you need to know how to stop. And how to get up if you fall down. So I thought that I had learned these lessons well. The instructor let us at the end of the lesson on a gently sloping hill - me and my friends, some of them European and therefore grew up skiing.

Naturally, with the instructor not there, the first thing that happened was that I fell down. Easy enough, just get up. It so happened that my back was turned to the down-slope and when I tried to get up I started sliding backward. And I was still bent. And because I wanted to see where I was going I peered between my legs – and saw the world upside down!

It must be new learning instruction techniques and new equipment, because my son picked up in 2 days flat, what I did over 2 years.

XII. The Skyline

The other activity that we always wanted to get into but never did was skating. NYC is so crowded and so competitive that it takes more than psychic energy to get involved, get in line and fight for you space. Not so in gentle New England. So we signed up for skating lessons too.

The instructor looked at us the motley crew and said, 'in 3 lessons, I think you son will be fine'. And then she looked at the two of us and said, 'you two - I don't know'. Fearless and undaunted (and not dressed in pink), MK and RK got on the ice. I decided to sit in the peanut gallery. As the instructor predicted, by the 4th class, RK was whizzing around Mini (who was still learning how to put one foot in front of the other) giving her instructions. Mini said that she discovered new muscles that she did not know she had.

There are two rinks in Brookline. One is indoor and the other outdoor. The outdoor rink is on a hill and in the winter since there is no foliage, you can clear look at the Boston skyline. This is indeed a pretty sight. The crack of ice as the skating blades cut through the ice, fast music playing in the background and the Boston skyline right in front of you.

XIII. Zipping around

One of the genuine pleasures is zipping around the countryside in your car. But as a long termer in NYC, I soon learned it was too expensive and indeed outrageous to maintain a car in the city. The parking costs alone (approx. $500 per month) outweigh the benefits of owning a car. So I had many years ago given up the pleasure of owning my beemer.

When we moved to Boston, I had gotten so used to not owning a car, that I did not actually think about it. Soon it became obvious that we might indeed need a car, unlike in NYC. We figured we would rent a car while we shopped for one. And then I came across 'Zip Car'.

I am not exaggerating - this is true. Parked right outside my kitchen window are two cars. And parked on the main street across the playground are another two cars. These cars belong to a company called Zip Car. And I can rent them by the hour. All I need to do is get on their website where I have an account and log in from when to when I want the car.

And I have a card (looks like a credit card) in my wallet. I walk up to the car at the appointed time and wave this card in front of the car and the doors unlock. The keys are already in the car and I drive off (even the gas is paid for). So this is like owning a car, but paying for it only for the hours you use. Naturally, we have abandoned the thought of buying a car and now just Zip around the town!

XIV. Of Hats and Ribbons

I believe, and this is personal and subjective, that a visit to Boston is not complete without a visit to the JFK museum. President Lincoln talked about appealing to the better angels of our nature. I think no President (actually no Presidential Couple) has done so more that President and Mrs Kennedy. I know that history buffs are going to come right at this and point out to Abigail Adams and Eleanor Roosevelt and indeed Hillary Clinton. And I don't necessarily have a counter argument. I only want to say, that this couple had such a fine sense of culture and such a fine sense of timing, that they brought a whole new generation into contemporary times.

Several thoughts come to me on this front - first the Kennedy Center for the Arts in Washington DC. Every year the best artists are awarded lifetime achievement awards. The president was a fan of Robert Frost. In fact, Frost's poem that he wrote for the inaugural is now at the museum.
... The glory of a next Augustan age
Of a power leading from its strength and pride,
Of young ambition eager to be tried,
Firm in our free beliefs without dismay, In any game the nations want to play.
A golden age of poetry and power
Of which this noonday's the beginning hour

Then there is the famous (first ever) TV tour of the white house conducted by Jacqueline Kennedy that took the country by storm. Then there is President Kennedy abandoning the hat, that virtually all men wore prior to that (imagine Prez Roosevelt in his hat).

Finally and most importantly, the seminal book by the President when he was a senator, convalescing in the hospital - Profiles in Courage. I had all this in mind as we took a day trip to the museum. And it does not disappoint. It is housed in a beautiful building designed by IM Pei right on the water in a 10 acre park beside the University of Massachusetts. Inside the museum, you capture the vim and vigor of this youthful President and the monumental times in which he led the nation.

There is a picture of him and Pandit Nehru strolling on the White House lawn (I understand that they did not get along. Neither did President Nixon and Prime Minister Indira Gandhi).

It has taken 40 years and a change in cold war calculus - but I am indeed glad that since the 90s, the ribbon has been cut to a new strategic relationship between the two countries.

XV. Newbury Street

A visit to Boston is not complete without a stroll down Newbury street. Every flavor of confectionary and cuisine, clothing and accouterments, services and accommodations, pedestrians and automobiles, color and shape, life and energy are to be found concentrated on this street.

The street starts approximately at the convention center and runs approximately a mile and a half to the public gardens. Right on Newbury where the street ends is the Old Ritz Carlton hotel. This is where I was put up when I was visiting the city this time last year. It has lovely views of the park. It is now owned by the Taj group of hotels from India.

It is indeed a out-of-body experience when you, with a starbucks coffee in one hand and a Vermont chocolate in the other, attired in casual Lands End clothing perhaps, are strolling down Newbury street by the fanciest hotel and you see 'Taj' on the nameplate and you suddenly think you are in Mumbai!

XVI. The Specialist

When you live in Boston, within a short while you learn that this is a town of education and medicine. Apart from Harvard and MIT, there are many many other colleges and universities. To name just a few - U.Mass, Boston University, Boston College, Babson, Bentley, Wellesley, Newbury and so on. And same is the case with hospitals.

As a result there are lots and lots of neighbors and fellow-parents at Rahul's school who are a comfortable mixture of Professors, Financiers, Lawyers, Doctors, Students, Interns, Research Scholars and so on. High degree of education, so to speak as well as flamboyant diversity (I choose that word intentionally!)

I was walking RK down the stairs one evening in Faneuil Hall when he tripped and twisted his ankle. I figured it would be best to take him to emergency care to ensure he did not have a fracture.

We registered ourselves and waited for a doctor to come by. Presently a young, pleasant energetic person came by and introduced herself as so and so. And then she said she was a 'pediatric sports doctor'. Holy Tamoli! In emergency care, we were attended to by a pleasant, knowledgeable, pediatric sports specialist! She knew exactly what she was talking about and had us on our way in no time.

I am most thankful for the help - but by golly! What is next in this world of specialization? "I am a doctor for the toenails of the thumb on the left foot for people who grew up in the Congo in the late 50s?!'

XVII. Fore

The connection to Boston on this story is tenuous at best. But you know what, this story needs to be told. So here goes. My colleague in Boston (that's it, that is the connection to Boston) walked into my office one fine day in March and said, "I have tickets to the Masters in Augusta, GA. I can't go, since my wife might kill me. How about you?" I very, very calmly and professionally said, "sure let me think about that and get back to you". Then I closed the door, jumped up and down, twisted in the air and let out a whoop! W h a t - a - t r e a t !

I will skip past all the sliming and slithering that my brother and I had to do to get permission to go. I will tell you this, there is not a more pristinely maintained course you will find in this world. Every tree is raked, every weed is tended and every flower WILL bloom the weekend of the Masters.

Any other golf course I have looked at since then is nothing more than a cow pasture. I perhaps will change my mind after I visit Pebble Beach sometime in the future. But until then, I have locked and loaded my memory of the best golf course I have been to.

XVIII. When The Leaves Turn Gold

Fall in New England is a cliche. But trust me, the first time you actually see it, those cliches crumble. All of New England is bathed in gold and yellow. There is a town called Stowe no more than 30 miles from Boston. But by the time you get there, you forget the urban sprawl and pollution and are all of a sudden transported into the most picturesque countryside you can imagine, especially when the leaves have turned.

I learned that there is a whole science to why leaves turn color. As autumn approaches, certain influences both inside and outside the plant cause the chlorophylls to be replaced at a slower rate than they are being used up. During this period, with the total supply of chlorophylls gradually dwindling, the "masking" effect slowly fades away. Then other pigments that have been present (along with the chlorophylls) in the cells all during the leaf's life begin to show through. These are carotenoids and they provide colorations of yellow, brown, orange, and the many hues in between. Carotenoids are common in many living things, giving characteristic color to carrots, corn, canaries, and daffodils, as well as egg yolks, rutabagas, buttercups, and bananas. Their brilliant yellows and oranges tint the leaves of such hardwood species as

Stowe is full of apple orchards. In the fall, when it is the season for apple picking, all the kids go there and are let loose in the orchards to go gather apples. It is great fun. At the barn-store they also sell apple cider and caramelized apples. The caramelized apples are whole apples that are dipped in caramelized sugar/sauce. Brilliant! Robert Frost wrote this famous poem titled Apple-Picking. It is about aging and evanescence and wholly appropriate to the season.

XIX. Gogol

Coolidge Corner in Brookline, named after President Calvin Coolidge is the liveliest place in Brookline. You can walk there at 11 pm on a Saturday evening and you can see a merry collage of people young and old, strollers and scooters with the handicapped all bustling around with energy in the pursuit of leisure.

Coolidge Corner is also home of the Coolidge Corner Theatre a restored Art Deco movie palace that has been showing movies since 1933. It is a not-for-profit arts institution, featuring first run arthouse films, including independent films, international cinema, and documentaries. I was getting mighty resentful that I have leaving Lincoln Cinemas in NYC city behind where I got a steady diet of French, Spanish, Italian and Japanese cinema. No worries. The movie theatre here nicely fills in that role. Most recently I saw the brilliant German movie and this year's Oscar winner 'Other People's Lives' here and also Jhumpa Liahiri's book that was made into a movie by Mira Nair titled, Namesake'. The protagonist in the movie is Gogol who learns from his dad that the world can be experienced through books without having to travel. I feel the same way about movies.

A quick funny aside about the German movie. I was at lunch with colleagues and I was raving about this German movie I saw. They asked me for the name of it. I said 'Other People's Lives'. There was stunned silence. I was momentarily taken aback. Then I realized that they may have understood me to have said, "Other People's Wives"! And they must have wondered, what kind of movies is this guy seeing! I quickly corrected myself over a hearty laugh. Near Coolidge Corner is also the birthplace of President John F. Kennedy and the high school that he went to (Devotion Public School).

XX. April Showers & May Flowers

Now that the winter is gone, the trees have perked up and those that flower are in full bloom. I walk up to the reservoir that is right by our place. It is surrounded by trees everywhere and makes for a fine walk.

We are thinking of joining the Massachusetts Audubon club and going and spotting birds this season. No doubt of course that I am anticipating the swinging of my clubs as well.

In summary, working and staying in Boston as well as my work/team is great fun. My family loves the culture here. I do think me as an Indian trying to say “Pawk the Cawr” with my Indian accent is going to be an interesting addition in the least, if not downright funny!