Hidden costs

Uneven grounds, craters as dark and deep as sin, the battered subject and his chariot make their way. The battle scars are evident. A creaky hip, the once non-noticeable limp but no longer so. He battles through a quick transformation from a youth with steely bones to one with aching joints. The once shiny yellow and black is now but a rickety and muddy 3 wheeler.

Both question - how did I become this?

Both question - who pays for this?

Mumbai - A sensory explosion

Many of you would have come in thinking that it would read something like this - smell of the sea, the feel of newly minted notes, the sight of the skyscrapers , the taste of the roadside vada pav. And you wont be wrong. But that is how an unsuspecting , naive tourist perceives it.

For us lot, it is never just this. It is an amalgamation of so much more.

Every morning I step out of my house to get to work. This is a 20-45 minute commute depending on when I leave. And everyday my senses are challenged. I live in an apartment complex with ~160 odd flats and I am greeted by an elevator that has the smell of fresh newspapers, amul milk packets, a calvin klein perfume and definitely that of a dog. 

I get into an auto which is either a fresh smell of agarbathis or the stench of an unbathed driver. Your destiny chooses you here. Then I navigate the roads - 

First stop: fresh fried aloo wadas merged with black grey fumes from a tempo that last did its pollution check 10 years ago and with the rotten smell of the discards from a thousand households.

 Next stop: the roadside fish market merged with the spices from the sahakari bhandhar (provision store), and again from the rotten smell of the discards from another thousand (this time floating in the canal nearby). 

Third stop: The smell of fresh flowers that the hawkers sell to hang in your cars to ward away evil, with the smell of the paan that the riskshaw driver adeptly opens with one hand and pops into his mouth and with the rotten smell of the discards from another thousand people (this time somehow has made it into the landscape as mosaics in a small hillock). 

Fourth and final stop: I reach office which is situated in one of the poshest areas and you would expect it to reek of everything fragrant, what with the multi national companies and five star hotels. But no, here you are welcomed with the unique mix of the fragrance from the flowers from a Nagalinga tree , the smell of temporary stress relief (cigarettes) , the smell of chanels and armanis and yes, you guessed it right - the rotten smell of the discards from another thousand people(but this time cleverly decorated with concrete). It flows like a river underneath the complex. You hide it from sight but alas you cannot prevent it from smartly escaping through vents and snaking into the air.

This amalgamation is the truth for many of us. For a non-mumbaikar, this is a lot to take in but for us, this is the norm and the truth. But it will not be long before even for us, this becomes unbearable. Till then, I shall continue to bear this daily journey that is interspersed with moments where I literally hold my breath.

Thank you!

Oh mothers,

I write this letter to you, thanking you in advance for the beautiful men you will be nurturing and growing. I am so proud of the fact that you will be teaching them to be kind and gentle, respectful and loving, strong and supportive. I brim with pride when I know that the boys are in good hands and you have helped them understand what “NO” means - for trivial nothings and for the non-trivial bigger non-nothings. I see that each of your boys is seeing at home an example from his father, brother, grandfather or uncle on how a woman should be treated - He sees someone who is an equal partner - right from helping out at home, to taking care of each other. I know that you know that this is important as he is not going to learn this anywhere else. You have also made them realize that they have an immense responsibility to walk hand in hand with the other sex.

I am so proud of the fact that when these boys grow up to be those wonderful human beings and they look back at the stories of horror on the opposite sex, it leaves them in utter dismay, but they heave a Sigh of relief with the thought - “Not on my watch, not now, not ever”

The wrinkles

Unlike the wrinkles on a shirt that get pressed on, with no stories to share, the wrinkles on a face mean so much more. They highlight the years of laughter, the moments of tears, the days of toil and more importantly the beauty of time. They are like journey lines, each telling a different story. The ones around the eyes speak about the heartfelt smiles that made their way from the lips to the eyes, the furrows near the brow retain those un-worded disapprovals , those on the forehead, the unabashed exclamations, the creases near the mouth roar with the sound of laughter, and those under the chin scream of the unshed tears that you pursed your way through. 

Do we have to smoothen these and erase a part of the past? Do we have to make them disappear? Ageing is inevitable but ageing elegantly and beautifully is something we should still hold on to, no?

One Truth

Why does the innocence of a chid's voice invoke so much more spirituality? Is it because they are untouched by any of the vices? There is purity and clarity in their voice and tone. It shatters your ego, breaks into all your insecurities and makes you completely vulnerable. 

And I am not talking here about a God or religion but just the true essence of acknowledging that there is something bigger than you and yourself. Amidst all the logic and certainty, there is another energy that does make that one small change.

All of us go through ups and downs in faith on the basis of incidents in one's life. During intolerable times, some hold onto that faith longer and firmer whereas some question that faith. But I feel, we question and then we seek peace and we come back to that one truth.

The bond

One has seen life, the other is about to, one has known, experienced , lived, the other is going to know, experience and live. But they are the bestest of friends, they bare their soul to each other and they laugh and live like they are the same age.

They feed off each other and live off one another. Distances dont matter, time doesnt matter, they hit off where they left. Childhood is relived, time is being made. 

This bond is sacred, divine, necessary and absolutely fantastic. I am so glad that in some small way, I have helped seal this.

I am so glad that I knew mine. I lived her childhood through her eyes. She lived mine. 

This is the "Grand" bond, strong, loving and ever-lasting. For the self-less grandparents and the ever-loving grandchildren whose hearts brim with an emotion more than love, more than affection and something so brilliantly "un-nameable"

Doe & a clown

How can somebody bring so much joy? A little butterfly that flutters around, a doe that gracefully hops and mesmerizes us, a clown that can make you roll in splits. All this in one beautifully packaged darling is Nidhu.

She is carefree, sensitive and boisterous , all at the same time. For her, her world revolves around her amma, appa, akka , akka and akka! And then her 3 close friends.

She can be content swaying to Ghoomer or Pinga or Roar or 500 miles or actually any music.

She cannot settle for culinary mediocrity. She needs food tasty and hot. One look at this little thing would suggest a complete disinterest for anything food. But quite the contrary

She is nearing 5 and is developing a beautiful personality. My baby!

She turns 9

It was my daughter's 9th birthday. A remarkable landmark when the kid is slowly disappearing and the girl is blooming. We had 10 of her friends invited over. Wow what fun.

Girls are the best. I will say so because I have two ;). They are truly beautiful flowers. When I  say flowers I don't mean the pure dainty ones that yearn protection. I mean there are different kinds. The boisterous ones, the soft petaled but strong ones, the thorny ones, the truly open colorful ones.. They are all different types but they are the joy of life.

I realized, that the kids did not need fancy events, locations or any such thing. They needed a place to be themselves and run amok. The event they enjoyed the most was just running around the park or dancing to arbitrary songs.

And the best sight was, then and now, they would all hug each other like it's the most natural thing to do. So warm, so natural. 

I love this phase and I want her to enjoy every bit of it

What is the hurry?

Beautiful, simple, content and happy.

Bali is known all around the world for its massages and beaches. But there is so much more to this beautiful place. Ubud, its cultural hub welcomed me with its quaintness, love and beauty. There are “pura”s or temples at every turn. There are artists and musicians on the sidewalk. The museums, temples around Ubud are splendrous. But what is most splendrous is its people. There are beautiful women in kebaya(their traditional wear) in the nearby villages who do the processions for the celebrations. There are men in their kain or sarong (usually a checked black and white one) and batik shirts. And they are untouched by many things that have tarnished the oldness and warmth of many a beautiful place. The place is pristine - clean and pure. There are smiles everywhere. Nowhere can we see hurried people wanting to get to the destination at haste. They all seem to say - “Enjoy the journey, what is your hurry”?

On a sunday morning, at the Ubud palace, a teacher is teaching the girls Legong, the traditional Balinese dance. The music is soothing , the girls radiant in the morning sun swaying gracefully with precision. Even the powerful camera will not be able to capture the elegance and grace.

I am 10,000Km away from my home and yet I feel right at home. not just because of the people, I never knew that our cultures were so similar. You can see Vishnu (Desa), Siva, garuda, arjuna everywhere. Rather, they revere and cherish them more than we do. There are wrought iron statues of the gitopadesam in jakarta. Arjuna looms 50 ft tall in the middle of Bali. Hanoman protects all here. 

Bali is mesmerising

Little Men

“Catch it, keep it down”. “Ok”. “Catch it, keep it down” ,”OK”. “1,2,3” Three voices alternated the sentences. Close your eyes and you think its a mini sailor crew taking down cargo. You open your eyes and you see 3 little men - one throwing something from above a roped tower, the other one on the ground catching it and placing it down. And the other one then doing the same. Whats there in their hands you wonder. what are they stacking up on the ground? What are they counting? 

Are they stones, or pebbles or coins or twigs or what are those objects? I go nearer in fascination to see what prompts this unified dedication. I go round the little men and peer on the side. I half expected something from a magical land. They have been at this for 45 mins.  Nothing. There were no stones, no pebbles, no coins, no twigs. There was Nothing.

I looked at the three boys. I asked them , what are you throwing and what are you catching. One said - sugar, one said butterflies , one said - magic spells. And not one disagreed when the other one said something different. They were in their own magical land each throwing and catching whatever he wanted. How simple and joyful it was to see this. How naive and untouched were their minds. How clean and unclouded were their thoughts. What I would not do to become like that again.

Rajasthan-Jaipur

There is so much to see, so much to know, so much to take from India. Rajasthan is a classic example. 

Month: September
Year: 2014
Weather: Warm to hot
Itenerary: Bangalore-Delhi-Pilani-Jaipur-Jodhpur-Udaipur-Bangalore
# days : 9

My earlier impression of Rajasthan was (having studied there for 4 years) dry, arid, sandy , dusty and really bad roads. But I have to say, I was taken by surprise - great roads, really green and quite developed now.


After stopping in Pilani and spending a very nostalgic evening, we left for Jaipur. It is a good 3 hour ride from Pilani to Jaipur. We took the Chirawa-Jhunjunu-Sikkar road. Good roads maintained by the state. There are not a lot of well bred hotels, so if you are ok with dhabhas, then you should be good. Otherwise, finish breakfast and leave and you should reach for lunch.

JAIPUR

Stay: Pearl palace Boutique
website: http://www.pearlpalaceheritage.com/
phone: 0141-2375242

Jaipur is a city like any other city. Main roads, flyovers and what not. But the history of the city is quite fascinating.

(1) City palace
This is where Jai singh lived and conducted his court after moving from Amer fort. The royal family still lives here. The four gates signifying - spring, summer, autumn and winter really stands out.


This is moderately good. Nothing wow about it except for Raja Madhao singh's huge silver container which was used to take ganga water to london [Makes you want to yell - WHAT!]

(2) Jal Mahal
A nice beautiful monument in the middle of a serene lake. Looks beautiful and wish we could have rowed over to it. But the banks of the lake are filthy. Despite a board saying "No feeding the fishes and ducks", our very generous folks continue to litter. A bread crumb for the fish, a popcorn for self and 2 for the filth.


 (3) Amber fort
This is truly a wonder and the best of the lot. The sight of the palace and the fort looming on the skyline when you drive is beautiful. You can take the old fashioned elephant ride to the top, walk or go through the roads - each is good in its own way. The fort has been very well preserved and the spots are great - the sanganeri paintings, the turkish bath, the diwan-e-khas and diwan-e-aam, and most importantly the sheesh mahal.






The view from the fort is lovely. the river beneath with the curated gardens - takes you to another world altogether.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Amer_Fort

(4) Jaigarh and Nahargarh
If you have time, do not forget to explore Jaigarh and nahargarh forts. Off the beaten track - Jaigarh has the biggest cannon in the world - weighs 150 tons

Nahargarh looked like a stealthy hangout for local love birds who have unashamedly tarnished the walls of the 300 year old beautiful fort. The government has restored it to a certain extent. So, you will still get a glimpse of Raj singh, madhao singh and man singh amidst "Nikhil hearts sonam"


(4) Hawa Mahal
Beautiful red and pinksandstone facade, wonderful sight. People say - its nothing, just a structure with nothing behind.. but then why should it have something behind? It was built for a purpose - for the women to see the royal festivities.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hawa_Mahal

(5) Chokhi Dhani
When somebody suggested this, I thought it will be a cliched, childish recreation half heartedly done. But I was mistaken - a nice retreat where the village atmosphere has been rightly captured. The puppeteers, mehandi ladies, the dancers, wrestlers, chat stalls, camel rides, bullock cart rides, elephant rides, boating - well conceived and executed

The artisans village is a nice place - not very expensive and good quality. Do not forget to buy the colorful puppets, beautiful.

And of the course the FOOD- awesome!

(6) Lassiwala (since 19--) opposite niro's in MI Road
Please please please do not forget to have lassi here.. lives up to all the hype. The shop has only 3 items
- lassi small
- lassi big
- curd
Selection is NOT always necessary :)
http://www.tripadvisor.in/Travel-g304555-c174347/Jaipur:India:Lassiwala.Jaipur.html

Explore johari bazaar and hawa mahal bazaar.
Eat outs: 

(1) Peacock roof top restaurant - paratha dal makhni combo was amazing
(2) Laxmi mishtaan bandaar - kachoris to die for and of course the thali
(3) ITC Rajputana - Thali

Blessed Generation, dont you think?

Can you imagine that 15 years ago, there were no mobile phones? Land lines were the Pulse and Tone of our lives. If one wasnt at home, we left messages and waited. We had cameras that took photographs that needed to be developed. We used to wait for 32 photos to be taken on a kodak or a konica roll. Then we would wait for a whole day or two to develop them. That excitement of the wait used to be so good.  One vacation was just 32 snaps. There was beauty in minimalism. And then there were tape players where we rewound and moved forward with immense patience. 10 songs in a rectangular device with spools. 

There used to be constant power cuts and no inverters. We would just step out or take a hand fan or go to the terrace if it was night time. Make shadow figures over a candle light on the ceiling, watch the wax melt and form shapes on the  candle stand, sit with your grandparents and listen to old village tales, and of course sweat like a pig. When we went to restaurants, we wanted anything that is not south indian and it most probably was panner butter masala or gobi manchurian. We did not know any other cuisine. We were glued to chitrahaar, top 10 countdowns. 

We were there and witnessed and experienced all this. 

And then we experienced mobile phones, digital cameras, pizzas, pastas, 100+ channels, YOUTUBE, orkut, facebook and what not...

We are a blessed generation, arent we... a bit of both , each enriching our lives in its own way!

Green Bangles

She had always loved the color green. It reminded her of the lush fields in her village, of her ribbon knotted in school, of the fountain pen that her grandfather gifted her when she stood first in college, of her first moped, of the t-shirt she got her husband for their first anniversary.

The green bangles on display looked good. Her favorite color too. Nothing has changed, she consoled herself. 

"Here you go", said the man, opening his paan box and handing over a wad of cash. "Take two if you want, bare hands don't look good. Don't wear them and sleep like your old ones. These will break".

She couldn't stop the tears welling up. The old ones were her mother's gift to her. She rushed out of the shop. The neon board was still flashing - 'C.S.Motilal & Sons Pawn Brokers - since 1935'

Life is Such....

I called my friend over for a cup of tea today over chat. We have been in touch on and off, but with school and college friends, it really doesn't matter, does it -  they know us quite well to understand the long silences between. We used to bunk classes together, sleep in huddles in a small room, share every tiny little event of the day and so on.. but now, she is married, has a kid and all that. We chatted up on the gmail. The urge to meet a friend is always manifold..but then comes a series of thoughts and actions and repercussions that you need to evaluate.. and that is exactly what she was doing.

She works in a MNC, she is already away from her kid for 7-8 hours a day, people at home are taking care and so, she is burdened with the guilt of it. Between the seconds that she is tormented to type in a yes or a no, she has to evaluate the feelings of her mother / mother in law, who is already pretty tired, her father/father in law whose indifferent glances she needs to ignore or bear, the looks of the neighbors which bore into her heart the feeling of "what kind of a mother is she" and then the complete guilt by which she is already overwhelmed.

And so she types in a NO....

Midnight Kiss

Oh, the routine. Morning begins, tea, cooking, washing , waking the  little one up, getting her up and ready-brushing, bathing, feeding, drop and pick up from school, making her sleep, taking her down for the evening play,  dinner, clean up, making her sleep again.....Phew!

And then a kiss. The little one hugs you in the sleep and kisses you as though it is the most natural thing to do in the world... And thank god for the routine, it is worth every minute of it :)

Power of the Senses

Years pass by, but a tiny note from a known song, the scent of an unknown flower, the sight of a patterned dress evokes memories that have been deeply buried in the folds of incidents and events. We underweigh the strength of our memories. They are unimaginable.

And blessed are those people who are still able to connect to them. If you still feel the same as what you felt then, then you have remained untouched by the years. You travel through time to live that moment again.

The pang of nostalgia is divine. It makes you feel alive. Words do little justice to those feelings evoked but still, something is better than nothing.

Saar Post!

I was playing with my daughter the other day with a set of cards called "People and Professions" . There was the usual doctor, carpenter, pilot... and suddenly flashed a card of a "Postman". Remember, the diligent human who used to deliver blue color inland letters, brown cards to our doorsteps. I am from the "eternal summer" land of Chennai and every postman would always ask for "thanni". My granny very meticulously would fill water from the tap and not from the vessel which contained the boiled water..:)

I do not see many postmen now. I see courier boys flipping karts or delivering the innumerable airtel bills. But no classic postman. Why? Because nobody is writing letters anymore and hence the absence of post boxes as well. My daughter associated the post box to the small box that is outside all houses either to collect milk packets or pizza hut fliers or worse "No parking" boards.

I really miss those days of postmen, circular dial telephones, 'boom-boom maatukaaran', night time kulfi man, vaerkadalai kaaran (thankfully this is still there, "kadalai" never stops ;) ) For all the non-tamil readers these were a bunch of people of the nineties who added color to my life.

Please do not condemn this post saying that "Our economy grew, we progressed and all that..". I completely understand. Its just that I miss them like we miss our grandparents who passed on....

lol, :), rofl, hru and so on.....

Look around you. There are mobile phones everywhere. People talk, message, play, while they eat , walk and run. You name an action and that can be done in parallel while on a mobile. Whatever happened to people talking to people? Or enjoying food without the need to hear a voice on the other end? Or walking without thinking about anything, just plain walking looking around at trees and birds (well, not many to look at nowadays - thanks to the million intersecting waves). People have lost the sense of a real society. You send a message to your colleague in the different room, you tweet, fb message your friend on the same floor. I am not an exception except that I used to do the same for official reasons. But I question why?

When a person types in :) or ‘lol’ or ‘rofl’, does that mean he/she is smiling? NO. Most of the time, it is a habit, courtesy. You are online; you see your friend ping you but choose to ignore it. Your best friend.  Why? Because you can. Emotions have been replaced by emoticons and each of us has lost the identity. Nobody is plain vanilla anymore and most of the time; we do not even know that. We all have a cyber personality. And we get confused between the real and the unreal. I can hear people yelling -'You cynic..' :)

People have changed, the world has changed, for the better or worse, I do not know. There used to be times when our ancestors were contented to be who they were. Few of them lived only to survive, while the other fortunate ones lived for art and music, science, and most of all passion of some kind. Few notes of music, a concert, some books, some equations, a scripture, would be enough to make them happy. Now, we need a CTC, benefits, reimbursements and what not. We are moving with the tide, and thus are not able to sense the pace at which we are moving. Life has become unhandleable. There is an invisible hand that is controlling us all. Well, it used to be God, now it is something else - ambition, money, power, fame, competition and most of all , sense “non-contentment” - if there is word.

I am certainly not an exception – just encouraging people to indulge more in the little joys that make life more meaningful. This is not a very structured ‘scribble’, just random thoughts.. and I know many will disagree! But, after all, it is a free world!

The art of doing nothing

Remember the times when we used to gaze at the stars, at the trees, at the passing by cars and just be. We did not need diversion as kids - looking at the clouds and the shapes they form, drawing figures on water split from a bottle and imagining stories, looking at the clothes on the clothes line and assigning names to the shirts and dresses, counting the similar patterns on the mosaic, playing chess on the square kitchen tiles, making weird things from dried leaves and twigs.. oh  how I miss those days. If we did these things during our generation, imagine what our mothers and grandmothers would have done..


There was no need for our parents to inculcate those things into us because there was no diversion, a single channel on tv - playing either crop harvests or monotonous news channels, parents very busy earning money or taking care of the household, but showering love and affection from every possible direction, the world used to begin 3 houses on this side and end 3 houses on the other. 
Agreed - we were not worldly, we knew about the world from books or from stories narrated by our grandmother. These stories and their world were not set in the scenic Europe or the antique Africa but in even more beautiful places in Mythology where heaven and earth could meet.


Will it ever be possible for the little ones now to do that? On their own, NO. 
We need to bring it to them. Create a world where there is some percentage of that world we loved. Reduce their TV time, introduce computer games at a really late stage, introduce books on mythology, and give them some idle time. Let them stay away from all that material for a while. Let them not know what ricj is or poor is, let them not judge people like we do. Let them not categorize people.. let them just love.  Let them get bored. The kid's mind is so imaginative that the idle mind is not a devil's workshop yet.... It is a magical land.

Revolution 2020

Chetan Bhagat's new novel - Revolution 2020 promises a lot but fails to deliver.
Three friends, love, ambition, envy.... It harps on the now cliched - corruption and ambition. It does get exciting and interesting in the middle but loses direction and the protagonist seems to be totally confused in the end.  


Varanasi has been brought to life and the setting is quite beautiful. But apart from that, there is nothing to write home about.


Five point someone had a heart, and two states was a laugh riot. Is this a fitting next to two states? Not really. Would have loved more soul in the story. Seemed too cinematic in the end. Probably Chetan has started writing books as scripts for movies :)