Stuttgart

Sukhada Tatke about the much-invoked German punctuality, "Indian Stretchable Time" and surprisinig sympathies for the sun.

"We are not saints, but we have kept our appointment. How many people can boast as much?" asks Vladimir to his friend Estragon, during their long wait for Godot in Samuel Beckett’s most famous play.

Now, to anyone who has been here for even just a few days, it's obvious that the action of this play isn’t taking place in Germany. And Godot surely isn't German- if he was, he wouldn't ever have kept anyone waiting. If the play were set in Germany, things would happen very differently. For one thing, the characters would all arrive promptly, Godot included. And as soon as they meet, they would look at the sky, and each would make observations and predictions about the weather. And then maybe go back to looking at their watches again.

Where I come from, most of us look at our wristwatches mainly to see how late we are. My country is notorious for its Indian Standard Time, I mean, Indian Stretchable Time. Before leaving Mumbai, I was warned that I had to be on time. Anywhere and everywhere. I had to either be punctual or punctual- there were no two ways about it. Europe is bad enough, I was told, but Germans take it to another level altogether.

I witness it everyday, all the time. The Germans are so punctual that they can give watches a round-the-clock run for their money, or even alarm clocks for that matter. In fact, I feel I can set the time on my watch based on their precise movements. Right leg forward: one second, left leg forward: two seconds and so on. It seems to me that every move they make is timed. Perhaps that is why, almost everyone here carries a planner and notes down to-do lists very promptly. It is amazing that being German means taking a prior appointment to meet even your own friends! I am left wondering if there is any space for last minute plans at all. I wonder what would happen if someone, on a sudden whim, dropped in on their friends without any regard to the ubiquitous and omnipotent planner?

And if they are not obsessing over reaching a place on time, I catch them looking at the sky, or “heaven”, as some prefer to call it. Everyone has his or her own version of what the weather will be like that day. I think most of them seek assurances from one another that the day would be beautiful, which also means hot. When the sun does come out and they look around gleefully, I smile to myself thinking of my city, feeling half guilty about the curses we spew on that huge ball of fire which makes its harsh presence felt all around the year. I then start feeling sympathetic towards the sun and secretly thank the Germans: at least here it gets a warm welcome.

We Mumbaikars somehow don't seem to think about the weather on a day-to-day basis, probably because we tend to get our weather in large chunks - several months of incessant and escalating heat followed by months of rain, then dry heat which cools off gradually over the next few months and then it's time for the heat again. In the middle of all this, if Providence permits, we experience something close to a winter. Otherwise, almost always, it is either hot or very hot.

I have been here for two weeks and I seem to have experienced almost all weather conditions. The day I landed recorded the coldest day in six weeks or so. Before coming here, I had checked the forecast, which predicted a drop in temperature on the day of my landing. Surprisingly, it was accurate. Surprising because in Mumbai, the weather forecast seems more like intelligent guesswork, which somehow almost always goes wrong.

While I was here, it became hot on some days, cold on others coupled with rain. The change in weather caught me unawares almost always. So on a rainy day, I was without an umbrella, on a cold day I dressed scantily and on a warm day, I was armed with a thick jacket. I am still trying to learn the ropes of reading the sky.

But the rain here is so different. It is lighter and falls any time, with hail and all. Meanwhile I hear that it rained in Mumbai – I missed that special wet-warm smell.