From Russia with Love -- Part 5


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May 27th 2009
Published: May 27th 2009
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Kremlin - 10 May 2009

For the past 3-4 days, I had been viewing the Kremlin from the outside. Its sight of its red walls and green/red towers and the yellow, lofty buildings with golden domes, which peeped from behind the walls, had whetted my curiosity and desire to visit this center of Administrative Power as well as the Temporal Power. The ‘Rough Guide’ calls it the historic and spiritual heart of Mother Russia, and for all practical purposes, the Kremlin IS Russia.

Kremlin was to Russia is what the Red Fort in New Delhi was to India during the Mogul rule. Just as Delhi’s importance did not lessen even when Mohammad Tughlak moved the capital to Daulatabad, in the same way, Moscow remained the prime city, even when Peter the Great moved the capital to St. Petersburg.

The history is Russia in entwined with the history of Kremlin, though recently, Kremlin played no part when the Russian Parliament was being shelled.

My late great grandfather missed all the fun!

You are surprised? How come my great grandfather missed the fun when he left for his heavenly abode in 1910?

Well! Let me explain.

My great grandpa was a very prominent lawyer, educator and patriot. Like many educated people of his generation, he believed that the dissemination of knowledge to all the strata of society was through books. He was instrumental in founding the public library at Belgaum.

He had written and published a book in Marathi titled ‘Russia’. I can’t imagine why he should have done it. After all, he had never visited Russia. The only motivation, I can attribute to him is that he wanted to educate the Marathi people about the history, geography, politics, literature, Arts of this vast country.

He had done so quite thoroughly, giving facts like the area, population, ethnic distribution, water-tables of river-basins etc. In fact, it was quite a dry book filled with minute details.

In that book he had also written the history of Russia to date. The book was published in the late 1890’s.

Yes, the history of Russia is quite interesting up to 1890. The doings of Tsars and Tsarinas makes good reading but the real icing on the cake is the events after the 1905. The doings of the Bolsheviks and Communists surpass even the Tsars.

My poor great grandpa lived to see the 1905 Revolution, the first of many such, but he could not incorporate it in his book because there was no second edition of his book. Looks like the Marathi people did not want to be educated about Russia.

I am not surprised. I read the brief history of Russia given in the ‘Rough Guide’ twice, quite carefully and am still as confused about it as ever. So, I won’t write anything about it.

Those, who are interested in Russian history, may please surf the Net at their own risk.

Anyway, Kremlin is much more enjoyable if you do not know its bloody history.

I decidedly have inherited the genes of the ‘educator’ from my great grandpa. In my case, it has a rather limited scope. Instead of trying to educate a whole lot of Marathi people about Russia, I am concentrating on educating only one of them, namely Avi.

Avi had not tried the ATM in a foreign country to get money. I compelled him to learn it in a hurry.

Two days back, I had converted 200 Euros to cover for Bolshoi Ballet tickets and other traveling expenses. When it became clear that we will not be seeing the Ballet and also that I would not have another opportunity to convert the money again because of 3-days of official holidays, (on account of the Victory Day.) I reconverted the 4340 Roubles for 100 Euros, though Avi had told me not to do so. I thought the rest 4340 Euros would suffice.

However, our expenses mounted. The prices of everything, I mean the Moscow cruise, the admission tickets to various museums, everything in fact, had doubled from the estimated given in the ‘Rough Guide’.

Avi was blissfully unaware of our straightened financial conditions, and squandered another 600 Roubles for a pizza and beer dinner for us.

So, when we went to Kremlin, I found that we barely had sufficient roubles for the Kremlin and Armory admissions but we could not have seen the Diamond Fund for lack of money.

When we reached the window, I insisted that Avi should buy the admission tickets with his credit card. Avi was frankly puzzled.

“Why? Just give me the roubles. We should be having enough.” He said.

I still did not want to confess, so I brought the Educator in me to the fore.

“I want you to learn how to use your credit card to buy tickets in a foreign land.” I said.

“I have done it umpteen number of times already. There must be some other reason.” He said fixing me with a stern eye.

Confession time!

“There is. We do not have enough money.” I said sheepishly.


“How?”
“I reconverted 100 Euros.”

“Miss Charu Natu, I told you not to.” He said.

I suddenly revert to my maiden status when he is angry with me.

Anyway, we could buy the tickets with the credit card and so, our pecuniary condition improved.

However, he thought it prudent to learn how to use the ATM machine in the foyer of Armory so as to be prepared for any unforeseen circumstances, that I might set in motion.

That is how I ‘Educated’ Avi.

The Kremlin has many buildings inside the vast fort. The golden ‘onion’ domes of the five churches are utterly charming and the Senate, Presidium and Arsenal buildings are imposing. The huge ‘Tsar-bell’ with a broken-off piece and the never-used Tsar-cannon with enormous metal balls are awe-inspiring.

However, the most interesting are the Armory museum and the Diamond Fund.

The Armory is housed in a regal palace and the palace is itself the biggest ‘exhibit’ of the museum. The usual paraphernalia of the Royalty are artistically displayed here - their silver and gold dinner and tea services, their royal clothes, their thrones, their crowns, their carriages even the saddle ornaments of their horses. To justify the name ‘Armory’, their armor is also displayed here.

The palace is huge. I just can’t understand the Royalty. How could they live in such a place?

I mean, just Imagine!

Ivan the Terrible is all ready to go out to the Court. His coach is waiting for him at the door. He comes to the door and puts his hand in the pocket.

“Darn, where is my hanky? Anastasia, come here this minute.”

Anastasia, who is 40 rooms away, does not hear him.

“Anastasia”, Ivan hollers at the top of his voice.

“Yes, what is it, Ivan?”

“Where is my hanky?”

“How do I know? You must have left it in the bedroom.”

“Can you get it, please?”

“Have hopes! You get it yourself.”

Ivan may have been Terrible to other people but he is scared of Anastasia.

“OK. I will get it.” He says meekly and goes to his bedroom to get the hanky, crossing 30 rooms in between.

When he is leaving the Palace, he is dismayed to find that his cell-phone is missing and remembers that he has left it on the breakfast table. He knows better than to ask Anastasia to bring it and cursing under his breath, goes another 30 rooms in another direction to get the phone.

On the way out, he kicks the dog and breaks the neck of a caged canary.

I firmly believe that Ivan would not have been so Terrible if he did not live in a palace. His temper would have sweetened if he had lived in a 3-bedroom flat.

Joking apart, I have seen that very large houses (including my own at Belgaum) own the people living in them, instead of the people owning the house.

The Diamond Fund needs another expensive ticket, but is worth seeing. I always find all the gems very attractive. (Who doesn’t?)

Outside, the domes of the churches glimmered in the sun. However, the inside of those churches held no significance for us.

Avi was keen to see the Pushkin Museum because he had not seen it. I rested my feet outside while he roamed inside. I had planned to see the French Impressionists in the nearby building, but I was so tired that I did not stir from the bench I was sitting on.

“Hang the French Impressionists!” I thought to myself and then was struck by the unintentional witticism. After all, the French Impressionists were hanging inside and doing their best to impress the young and impressionable.

I am neither young nor impressionable and was too tired to care about the French Impressionists.




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