Impressions from the sultan's magic city

The Kazakh capital of Astana was a stretch of grasslands some 17 years ago. It rose from nothing. Today, it stands glitzy, trendy and modern - a fantasy land of tall glass buildings, Gothic operas, shopping malls and satin-black roads.
Mosques, some of them with domes of gold and walls spotless white, stand amid these tall ultra-modern structures. The Kazakhs are outstanding sculptors and most squares have statues cast in black stone, of their heroes, writers and musicians.The weather is fickle, a constant play of sun and cloud. Suddenly the skies open up, bringing down sheets of rain and hail as bone-biting chilly winds sweep the open spaces.
This city is Nazarbayev's creation, his dream capital. He roped in the best architects, top-of-the line designers to shape its buildings and parks, reason everything looks uncannily picture perfect - not a stone or leaf out of place. Almost bordering on blingy, buildings glimmer at night as multi-coloured lights dance on their walls.
There's just one oddity. While it's a showcase of all the must-haves, residential cottages with bright red roofs stand in rows in front of a cluster of skyscrapers - hip and trendy at odds with the sedate and quaint. Imagine the Parthenon standing next to the Eiffel Tower, the Taj Mahal around the corner.
The speedway from the airport to the city is a breeze - Soviet-style showpiece structures stand at intersections. On either side of the eight-lane highway construction work is on full swing. Blocks of apartments are coming up. Astana is getting its first 77-storey structure - the mall of Abu Dhabi. Billed to be a never-before-seen complex, it will have hotels, shopping plazas, offices and entertainment complexes. Indeed it won't be an overstatement to call this city the Dubai of central Asia.
SHOWMAN AND HIS ONE-MAN SHOW
A day ahead of national elections, the only sign that polls are indeed on in Kazakhstan, is a row of Nazarbayev billboards along the highway to the city. Those who keep him company in this exercise to know the people's mind, technically his rivals, are nowhere in sight.
Nursultan looks every bit the sultan as he benevolently surveys his creation from these hoardings. In some of these, he's a tad informal in a white shirt, his jacket draped loosely on his right shoulder as he walks briskly. He's a charmer, smart at 74, not a strand of his crop of grey hair out of place, his suit tailored to precision. Some show him sitting at a table, slightly hunched forward eager to engage.
"Russia's Putin and Kazakhstan's Nazarbayev are close and think highly of each other," Sergei Lebedev, head of the CIS group of election observers proclaims at a briefing endorsing the Kazakhstan elections as clean. "You've got to understand they are nation builders in a way the western world will never understand. Nazarbayev and Putin are leaders who'll always be unparalleled. This leaves me deeply worried. What happens after these leaders retire? Medvedev of Russia has done well, he says virtually referring to the Russian PM as Putin's understudy, one who's being groomed to take over," he says.
His contention: True, you'll seldom see election results like this. But this isn't the western model. It's different. "We believe in democracy, but differently. Leaders like Nazarbayev have their people's complete support and trust. The Kazakh people have seen, feel and live the difference their leaders have made to their lives." Another observer explains: "Let me tell you this, these elections were clean and free. What else explains a 90% plus turnout! People voted fearlessly."
OLD BOYS' CLUB:
The USSR has vanished from the world map. But the Soviet-Soviet bhai-bhai sentiment runs deep. To certify and celebrate friend Nursultan's Nth electoral triumph, representatives from most CIS countries were in Astana.
Ukraine and Moldova stayed away. On April 27 election commission representatives from central Asian, nearly-European and absolutely European countries took turns to authenticate the verdict. Not that the Light of Kazakhstan needed any of it, but a pat on the back sure felt good. The press conference lent heft and gravitas to the astounding results.
Cosmonaut Valentina Tereshkova was among the CIS observers - she's a Deputy of the Russian Dumas - but had skipped the Astana presser. The old boys rubbed shoulders, shook hands, posed for photos and cheered brother country Kazakhstan's big day.
ANANDI
Astana TV beams a slice of India to Kazakh homes every evening. Everyone knows Anandi. Every twist in Sasural Simmar Ka, Balika Vadhu and Jodha Akbar is a subject of discussion. At shopping malls Smriti Irani is still Tulsi Virani, the Bahu from Kyunki... The never-ending serial holds Kazakhs in its thrall and the HRD minister is known in her avatar as the ideal Indian housewife.
At a kebab takeaway in Astana a bubbly young woman behind the counter asks "Indian?" and chirps: "Anandi, Anandi". She points to their forehead, draws a circle and beams: "bindi", waves her hands around her body wrapping herself in an imaginary sari.
In Almaty, tourist guide Nadira gushes about Abhishek Bhachhan. "I love him and I love Kajol, Rani Mukerji and, yes, Shah Rukh Khan." Amitabh Bachhan and SRK are top draws. But at the Almaty immigration counter, no one can beat Disco Dancer Mithun Chakraborty. "He's the best," the happy officer at the desk nods as he stamps my passport.
YOUNG, ORGANIC & NUR OTAN MEMBER
His surname is Zumayev. That's because Irfan was born on a Friday, Jumma Baar. He goes to Astana's Eurasian University and studies for free. Irfan wants to be a diplomat and is a member of the ruling Nur Otan Party's youth wing. He searches his limited vocabulary for English words every now and then, and when he can't find one, falls back on Google translator. "Dumplings", he exclaims looking up from his Samsung phone to tell me what he wants to eat. The president, he says, is a boon for him. "How else would I get to study at the university free of cost?" His father is a retired train driver and sisters, both married, are homemakers. He went to vote, he informs. He has myriad queries on India and wants to visit Taj Mahal one day. "That's my dream. I also want to visit Goa, but Taj Mahal first." Irfan is curious about Kashmir. A student of international relations, he's familiar with terms like "disputed territory" and listens with rapt attention when told why Kashmir is an integral part of India. Wiry and neat, he's turned out in a smart suit and insists he'd stick to organic food only. "No KFC. No McDonald's. I like the food moms and aunts make, not this," he nods.
KARASHAI & SUPERCOMPUTER
The Kazakhs love their tea. At a news briefing, deputy foreign minister Askar Mussinov's staff keeps refilling cups with black tea as the polyglot minister talks of his government's international priorities. In a quick aside he talks of his fetish for karashai - Kazakh for kali chai (black tea). "We don't grow a blade of tea here, our weather doesn't permit it. We import all of it from India. We simply love drinking tea."
Quickly returning to international relations, he mentions how his country eagerly awaits PM Modi's trip to his country sometime in June. "He'll gift the Kazakh people a supercomputer." And, then he hurries to add: "Yeah, it's made in India and will be installed at the Eurasian University here. Someday we'll make our own, but for now we're happy with the gift from India." The writer was in Kazakhstan at its government's invitation