Fair Play

Long time! I have never used this space to talk about society and economics, a subject that is close to my heart. Have spent many a long night discussing or thinking about the symptoms and remedies of this complex and intricate net of 7 billion disparate souls connected, it seems, by six degrees each. I was prompted to think about one particular situation by a discussion I had earlier, and nothing helps spur the thought process better than writing it down. So here goes. 

The situation as it stands today, is that many first world capitalist countries have governmental policies that encourage their industries to outsource labour intensive jobs to populous third world countries. Almost everyone is publicly against this mode of operation. The people of developed nations have long decried losing lucrative jobs to cheap labour, whilst enjoying the fruits of cheap consumer goods. The social activists of third world countries, the only people who can be bothered to spend time on this and raise their voice are against this as 'cheap' labour usually translates into inhuman sweatshops harking back to the industrial age. It is especially horrible when you see underage kids yoked into driving this cart of 20th century progress. Is it really progress if the majority of the world population works its heart out for less than minimum wage? What can we do about it, if anything. Is it time for us to abandon the free market system? Abandon that turn of the century buzzword, Globalisation?

One reason for this dichotomy in standard of living is the dichotomy in governmental policy. Developed countries demand a certain standard of care and benefits for employees. Developing countries have no such qualms and will take any work they can get. In a way, this is history repeating itself. I mentioned the industrial age before. It set the stage for us to learn the ill effects of pure capitalism. What is happening today is something similar, only over a larger scale, worldwide.

So what is the root cause of this situation? Why are we repeating our mistakes? I believe that we dont really learn from others mistakes. We make them again, possibly on a different scale, and progress quite slowly. Human memory is not much longer than a generation. This is why trends cycle in 3-5 decades, as newer generations re-invent the wheel, again and again. What helps with having made the mistake before is that you tend to know what to do in times of crises. The first time this happened, it gave birth to hugely successful worker unions. They became, over time, too successful, strangling growth and losing direction themselves. The power see sawed, leading to an unsteady balance prevalent today in industrialized nations. What history taught us, lead to a shorter refractory period in the newly formed nations post world war. They did the same mistakes, tried to avoid them, overcompensated, went back the other way etc etc. We are at a stage when people are sacrificing much to the altar of industrial development. Some say way too much. 

In my opinion, public policy should not directly tell anyone to do something. Like tell companies that that give your employees this this and this, mandatory. Or that you cannot outsource or something. 

One thing you can do is tax unseemly practices. If labour is too cheap, tax it and make it not so cheap and unfeasible. But this doesn't always work when companies are global conglomerates. All people are equally ingenious and it becomes a lawyers arms race of regulation and loophole exploitation. 

In my opinion, the best way to tackle this is to tackle the social aspects of this problem. Why is there cheap labour in Asia? There is a huge untapped resource, population. Supply and demand skews the wages to a ridiculously low amount. Apart from governmental regulation to fix wages to a decent amount, what we can do is educate and empower everyone. Yes, thats my one thing fixes all answer. Education. 

Whenever I pull out education, people give me facts to the contrary. Look at all these educated people who are still stupid. Education can teach you but it is up to you to learn and so on and so on. Yes, I agree that a man who can read write and do math is not necessarily more intelligent then someone who cannot. I agree that a woman with a degree can be colossally stupid. Education is no guarantee to rationality. However, I doubt that anyone would agree that being learned enhances your chances of thinking for yourself and knowing your options. First world nations face similar problems with their poor people, who spiral in a cycle of debt and drug addiction. They do not know that there are people and organisations out there to help them out of this. They do not know anything outside of their circle of violence and addiction. Ditto for uneducated people. They do not know that there are options to that money-lender. They do not know that they can go to a higher authority, tall them about the sweatshops and with some effort, shut it down. Yes, it is possible. 

People who are stupid are stupid, and people with wit will always have that. Education merely opens the door to possibilities that are there for you to exploit. This is one thing governments can do. It is exceedingly sad to see developing nations in Asia and elsewhere not spending enough on education. It seems obvious to me that if your most valuable natural resource is Human, with such a large untapped demographic advantage, that should be the focus of whatever you do.
I recently heard that the job of a high school teacher is the most highly sought after job in China. One of the reasons is that it is very highly paid. Everywhere else primary and secondary teachers are underpaid. When I went to an interview for a teaching position at KV, in Pune, I got the shock of my life. This was one of the premier school systems in India. There were about 30 odd positions to be filled. More than 500 people had come for the interview on the final day. As far as I could see, I was the only, the ONLY person with a masters degree. If we cannot attract more qualified people to schools, to teach, what are we teaching? I had taught in KV for 2 months before the interview. I was so ridiculously overqualified for the job of teaching Science to 13-17 year old students that I was selected for all the positions I had applied to. On the basis of a 2 minute interview. I am not bragging here. Just want to illustrate the dearth of good qualified teachers. Surely, I thought, there are tons of experienced teachers out there. Not apparent from what I saw.
Why dont we have courses that teach how to teach? We have all seen how people who know a lot arent necessarily good teachers, and sometimes those who may not everything may be the best teachers. Why dont we have a system to nurture this talent? Surely a teacher's job is equally [if not more] important that a doctor engineer or scientist! Why not incentivise it?

Look at the situation in India. School fees are spiraling. I wont even go to the current fads and trends in school teaching today. It is so horrendously difficult to get a kid admitted to a decent school. How do you suppose an average child from a poor country like ours is supposed to get educated? If s/he is not, surely you are condemning him/her to a life time of low wage unskilled labour. There lies the crux. Increase the amount of skilled personnel and you will get a better life style, a better economy. No one opposes the software sweatshops where people work 18 hour days and develop software solutions for companies in the US. No one except the Americans. This is because this is skilled labour, that you are paid a lot to do. 

This may seem too simplistic, but a rock solid education system will start a cycle that will slowly but surely tackle all the problems we have. More educated people, more progressive the economy and manufacturing base. More the manufacturing and infrastructure base, more job creation. More job creation, better the economy, better the standard of living. Better the economy, more resources diverted to education.

We need to somehow make education and science and know-how cool again. Too many folk tales warn against the narrow minded hubris of the learned man versus the simple wit of a salt-of-the-earth fellow. It is true, a valuable lesson, however not the full story. Education may not give you wisdom, however it surely gives you the tools to do so. Makes it a lot easier. Makes it more likely that you better yourself in life. 

I know this is a very slow process. People need to be aware of it, it needs to percolate through, public policy needs to change. Even after this, it will take a whole generation or two for the good cycle to emerge. However, once this wheel starts rolling, there is no stopping it. 

All inequality stems from the inequality of means. If everyone is guaranteed an empowered chidlhood, we can eliminate one of the inequalities and go forward. 

  

Change, no change...

So. It has been a long time since I have been here. Let me dust off the the place a little, and lets do this. A lot of things have happened in the last few weeks, so there is tons to say, tons to talk about. 

To begin with, I have changed countries. I know reside in the United States of America, working as a PhD student at the Georgia Institute of Technology. The transition has been easier for me than most other people I know because of the incredible luck of getting admission in a place where I already have a couple of good friends and a city which also happens to be the current address of my brother and sister-in-law. Let me tell you the best part first, SHE IS AN AMAZING COOK! So I can just go home any time I want and have all the home food I want. Most of transition to the school was smoothen-ed by the presence of Sa and Sw. So, all in all, the transition has been nice.
The campus here is very nice. It is smack in the middle of downtown Atlanta. I am lucky enough to have an office with a window, overlooking the skyline. Yes, I have an office :). I do share it with a couple of people, but that is okay. Our department is a small one, looking to aggressively expand in the next few years, so that is a good thing. I am currently rotating with a fun lab, a fun PI and life is good. 

That's the view from my office window

Its been a month of living in Atlanta. I have a student pass to the Woodruff arts center, the self proclaimed vangaurd of performing arts in the city. There are other places in the city, that have more offbeat things happening and I hope to discover them too, in my time here. I saw a play at the Woodruff yesterday, and I liked it, liked the experience. 

In terms of food, they say Atlanta is a great hub of good food places. The problem is, that it is also a great hub of costly places. So it will be a while before I can discover the gastronomic landscape of the city. Meanwhile, I subsist on dining hall food on campus. Also, I am trying to set up my kitchen, to do a bit of cooking now and then. 

Atlanta is a spread out city, not really made for walking. the sidewalks are in disrepair, and walking is said to be unsafe at night. Indeed, the few times I have ventured out at night, the place is deserted and dark, and anyone with ulterior motives could easily get away with crime on those streets. I am waiting to get a few formalities out of the way, and getting a driving licence as soon as I can. That way, it is easier and safer to roam the city. That also ties in with my plans to explore the country in the five or so years I have at my disposal. 

All in all, life is good. Future life looks good. Work is splendid, home is splendid. There are a few issues, like cost of living, homesickness etc., but they will sort out in time. 

 Also, did I mention I live a block away from the studios of Cartoon Network? 

An exercise in Tragedy

Let me tell you a story. There is this man I know, lets call him S. All his life, S has carried an unusual burden of misfortune on his back. Recently, something more was added to this heavy load, which has triggered this blog post. Let me start at the start, though.


S is the youngest of four siblings, an eldest brother, and two sisters. His dad was a big leader, a do-gooder in their village. Being a bit more privileged than their peers, all four enjoyed a happy childhood. Big brother is a large, caring man. Big sister is the rock of the family, the practical person. Little sister is the emotional one, the one who takes care of everyone. S is a combination of all three. He is by far the most naturally intelligent person I have met in my life. He is practical, caring and all that, but the most striking thing about him is his ready wit and intelligence. He was literally the apple of his parent's eyes. "S will become the most famous doctor in this land" his dad would often say, with good reason. 


When he was young, S was a carefree youth. he had a big future in front of him, everything to look forward to. At this juncture, he did something inexplicable. He skipped his 12th exams. Just didn't go. You ask why, but I do not know the answer to that question. He just did. His dad got him a job in the local sugar factory he had started. He was married off to a cousin. His dad soon died in a haze of alcoholism, leaving behind a shambles of an estate. The vultures soon moved in. 


The sisters married off to men outside the village, into big cities, soon lost touch with the family. The men were hot-headed, up and coming engineers who shunned their 'callow' in-laws as they moved up in the world. They had forgotten the all important push S's dad had given them when they started. It was left to S and elder brother to take care of the mounting debts and old family home. Hoping to avoid conflict and acrimony, S left for a nearby city and elder brother took care of the family farms. 


In the city, S supported his wife and small kid by starting a small business of his own. Very precarious, but he managed to get a toe hold in by dint of hard work, ingenuity and his innate ability to talk his way into any situation and setting. This is the first time we meet his daughter. Looking at the precocious girl, you could shades of S in her. Very self aware, she had realised at a young age that her dad would have to slog all his life to keep his family and her just above the water and surviving. She vowed to lend a hand as soon as she could. She, with her single minded devotion, applied herself to her studies, building a dream to someday be an IAS officer. In time, S gave her a baby sister too. Big daughter looked at her and was spurred on. Things were looking good. 


One fine day, the business he had set-up went bust, and S's partners ran away with a load of cash. He was broke, jobless with nowhere to go. During this time, S and elder quarrelled over the family estate and the farms were divided into two. So S did have something to do, go home and start farming. Mrs S didn't want to go and live with her in-laws. She persuaded him to go and live at her folks place, them being old and alone and all. This is at a nearby village, so he could easily tend to the farms and such. Since education is such a costly business, he scrimped and saved every tiny penny and shored it up for the future. You'd be amazed at his resourcefulness and a rare capability of extracting the maximum use out of any object.


Farming in this area is hard. There is a severe shortage of water. S has a well near his farm, but its source has dried up. So his well is essentially a tank. What he and a couple of neighbours  do, is borrow water from the well in the vicinity that has water. Now since everyone wants more water, you have to be constantly aware of the levels of water, best times for use etc and make sure no one is cheating and that you get the best deal. 


In any case, he started to re-build his life, at his in-law's place. Farming is a tough business, but he stuck to it. Daughters went to good schools in the area, progressing steadily. Mrs S found a job at a local school. Stability looked just around the corner. I use the word stability very loosely here. What kind of stability is this? The whole village laughs at the two brothers, for squandering the family fortune. They forget that most of it was spent in the betterment of the village and the villagers themselves. Their sisters try to find time and come and spend some time with them, as and when their husbands allow and help in their way. S lives with his in-laws, with taunts and jabs at every corner, not sparing even his small daughters. Everyday is full of hard work in the farms and come home to this. Each paisa he earns, he saves. Nothing for himself. His life is a patchwork of hand-me-downs and second hand things. S, though, is content. He knows, all this hard is going to pay off, when he see his daughters grow up to be strong, confident and independent human beings soon. 


As we enter the present, we see that elder daughter has passed 12th with flying colours. Trained at mofussil schools and a junior college at the local taluka place, it is a miracle that she secures a seat in a big engineering college. S is loath to send her away to big city centres like Pune or Mumbai, considering the cost of living. He decides to send her to a very good college in a middle sized town, keeping everyone happy. Without making a fuss, he somehow manages the gargantuan task of getting together enough funds to get her secured in this place. Here too, his in-laws mutter behind his back, saying why make such a big investment, who is paying etc. He ignores all, happy in the fact that his efforts have borne fruit. 


Her studies are going swimmingly well. He manages to talk her every day, go and meet her as often as possible. He has started a parents group of people who have sent their kids to that college and live nearby. She is also happy at her college. She works hard on her weak points and manages to get through the first year. 


This week are her year end examinations. On the eve of her 2nd paper, her room-mates call up S, reporting her missing. A frantic night is spent canvassing relatives and locals to see if any trace can be found. They wait till the exam time, to see if she turns up and immediately inform the authorities. 


It is 5 pm. We come into the police station where he is waiting for any news. There is no place to sit, he is standing in the courtyard. He cuts a forlorn figure, waiting for any news of his little girl. No sleep, no food. His sister has come to see if she could help. There are about 4-6 people around him, sounding out suggestions and strategies. After the discussions, everyone turns to him. What do we do now? My heart breaks into tiny pieces as he says "I cannot think of anything right now, please do whatever you think is best. ". A "Help me" goes unsaid. 


Around 6 15, about 24 hours since he last talked to his daughter, news filters in through the police station, that a body has been found in a local well. No one tells S. He immediately figures something is up. By the time they reach the site, he knows something is wrong and makes up his mind. You wouldn't believe me, but he doesn't shed a single tear. He has made his mind up. As we move towards the hospital to retrieve his daughter, he is the one who handles everything. His sister, a few friends and relatives who have come with him are all lost for words. Crying. He calmly identifies her. He is told there will be a few procedural delays. He relays the information home, where they prepare for the funeral and the word spreads. 


Here was a daughter who was the most rooted girl you will ever meet. She had a meticulous diary, written from the first day of college to the birthday in February. She outlines her hopes and dreams and daily expenses in simple and straight-forward details. No one among her friends suspect an affair gone wrong. The pressure of success was there, as is omnipresent in all engg. kids, but it wasn't blown out of proportion. She would talk about everything to S, or at least to her cousin sister, who was especially close. There are close to a thousand people at the funeral. Each and everyone is saying the same thing. There has to be foul play, this cannot be something she would do. The post-mortem and police action remove all traces of doubt or foul play. It was truly one of those random events. 


A note here, on the funeral. As soon as word spreads, that S is arriving by afternoon with his daughter, people start coming to the house. Not his in-law's place, this is the family place. As soon as you enter, you see S's brother sitting on the floor. He is weeping copiously, a husk of his former self. Inside, a bevy of ladies surround Mrs S, trying to console her. S's sisters sit in a corner, their faces twisted in agony as they denounce the cruel God who doles out this fate to their kid brother, silently, as tears roll down unhindered. A group of S's nephews stand outside, faces blank, wondering how did this happen. Slowly, the place fills up. People turn from all around the village and nearby places. Large carpets are soon laid out on the road outside, to accommodate everyone. Some people stand along the roads. As we stand outside, you can feel the grief mounting to a peak, as the news of the hearse filters through. Half an hour away. Now 15 min. 5 mins. Just around the corner. 
As he disembarks, S heads straight for the house. He embraces elder brother, who bursts into tears, piteously crying out aloud. The calmest man in the whole mêlée, S consoles his brother. As the daughter is brought out, the women rush out. There is a lot of shouting and crying. One of S's sisters faints and her kid and husband revive her. A couple of kids keep a glass of glucose water handy. The bier is quickly whisked away to the funeral home, to be cremated. The ladies all array themselves around the grieving mother. She cries out, her sharp comments tearing at every heart in the vicinity. As we move over to the cremation, a group of enthusiastic organisers quickly get it over with. Some politically minded person addresses the large group of people assembled there. The family quickly disperses, sickened by the whole process. 
Some semblance of sanity returns as everyone goes home. Only the close relatives are left in the house. To dispel all doubts and rumours, S tells the whole story in detail twice. To see him speak with an even voice, emphasizing each important point, you wouldn't know what a titanic struggle must be raging in his breast. 


He married according to his dad's wishes. He was duped out of his business just as he was starting to break even. He has to live in a place infested with taunts and jibes. He has two pillars of strength, his daughters, but one has been taken away from him in her prime. 


Fiction has a sense of balance to it. Even tragedies, they end. But real life doles out its emotions without regard for aesthetic equity, a novelist's sense of equilibrium, of justice. It just goes on. We are left with a tragedy of colossal proportions, apparently without rhyme or reason.  


We stumble through life, thinking we have seen sad and joy and everything. It is precisely when you least expect it when life slaps you hard on your face, and says look! Someone else has it worse. 


As we depart the village, leaving this grieving family to their lot, you can see a house near the end of the village all decked up in finery as the sounds of dhol waft through the air. There is a wedding here. Life, it seems, goes on. 




p.s.: I havent spent much time on the reactions and implications of S's younger daughter. This isn't because it isn't important or that I haven't given much thought to it. It is simply because I cannot string more than 2 sentences together without choking up. It is simply too much for me to handle. Probably, S could do a better job. 


p.p.s: Some details have been embellished or downplayed for privacy. This voyeuristic portrayal of S seems to be a selfish thing to do. He doesn't know I wrote this, and I don't think many will agree. We all have our ways of grieving. Some cry. Others are S. I hope to think that the memory of this sad turn of events will live through this post, and that at some level, in some unexplained way, it will help. 

Himachal Parikrama.

[For those who dont understand Hindi, Himachal is a state in the north of India and parikrama means circuitous trip]

So. Some of you may have noticed that I was out of the grid for the last 15-20 days. I was trekking in the Himachal :) . This is an account of that whole trip... [Kindly forgive the hindsight-y digested account. Didnt have pen-paper to record live reactions.]

18 May
left from Nashik. AC chair car, nice reserved seats and all.
Met Mandar and Sharvari in Mumbai. Usual frantic last minute purchasing [camera, in this case] and we are off. Again nicely booked, reserved seats.

19 May
Delhi. Long haul to a place, where we had to keep Sharvari's extra luggage. some rest, and off to see Swapnil. bus to manali at night.

20 May
Woke up [still in the bus] to see the Beas parallel to the road, completing a beautiful sunrise frame. Beas showed us the way right up to Kullu, and onwards to Babeli, that was our base camp. Mild excitement about the beautiful valley turns to OOOOH LA LA when we see our first snow covered peak from the road.
Once we get set up in the camp, rest of the day is off. We meet Naval uncle, one of the nicest people in our group [SK-26]. Later in the evening, me and Shar go off to explore Kullu. We meet Naval uncle there, and have a pleasant 7 km walk back to camp.
Food is superb

21 May
Early morning exercises leave everyone a little buzzed. Excrutiating and fun at the same time.
Acclimation walk. Much discussion about the difference between acclimation, acclimatisation and adaptation. Started meeting people. Kalyan has organised tent-14 into one group. We meet Ajinkya, also a Punekar. Naval uncle and I trade stories. Walk is over in a short time. Rest of the day is off, we decide to go to Kullu for more shopping after the orientation.
Kullu is a pleasant town. After coming back, SK-26 preps for camp fire. people sing and tell jokes. Hits are Mandars ghazal and Rishi uncle's Saurkundi dhaam story.

22 May
Everyone is a bit bored, the schedule leaves us loads of free time. Today we just have the usual exercises and some rock climbing and rappelling. This is fun. Mandar becomes famous in the group by climbing many rocks. Later in camp, girls ask about the singer who can climb rocks.

23 May
D-Day. We move to higher camp. We bid adieu to the field director Mr Gogate [he won't be there when we come back]. Our group has 48 guys and 3 girls. Unusual combination. Off to Patlikuhl to start the walk to the first camp, Segli.
The walk is pleasant, through thick pine forests. A bunch of locals walk with us, plying us with buttermilk, rhododendron juice and food at every rest point.
Camp is in a village, in an old wooden house. after settling in, we roam around a bit. Later, everyone chats up Ajay, the youngster who is the scion of the family who owns the house. He is a big audience guy and gets going very nicely. Later, he also sings at the camp fire.

a note on the groups : we begin noticing groups and people of SK-26 by now. there is a big Gujju group, a tent-14 group [mostly from NITs]  , a telugu group of four, our group of 4-5, an older people group of 5-6 and 2 groups of four from mumbai and nagpur each. The rest assort themselves. There is a group of Deaf-Mute guys, 3 of them. Expert trekkers, they regale us with jokes and in general have loads of fun.

24 May
Farewell to camp leader Manoj kumar as we move to higher camp Hora. a brief interlude to a water-fall is the only new thing. Walk is good, the peaks move closer. After settling in, me Mandar and Ajinkya venture upwards for a bit of exploration.

Camp is nice, our first without electricity.

25 May
Since there is no camp leader here, some enterprising people light a camp fire in the morning. Much fun and talking. Some people organise cricket. Around 10, we move. shortish walk, we reach Maylee. Nice camp on a slope with a view. Best camp leader yet [and overall too], Mr Jignesh welcomes us. Camp has nice rolling greens, nice place to sit and chat. Some play cricket, some of us chat. Akash shares his love of movies with me.

Camp Fire is highly energetic today, this is our last one. We sing Beatles songs out of tune, play garba and whatnot. much fun. After everyone sleeps, a few of us go to the guide's tent and ask them to sing local songs. they regale us late into the night. Super songs, that we hum all the way down to Babeli.

26 May
I wake up early today. Decide to foray along the sides of the mountain we are on, to check out the view from the ridge that is just visible. It is deceptive, and I walk through fields and brambles and whatnot to the ridge, a long way across. Its worth the view.
Short climb today, but virtually vertical. First sight of snow, small patches just before Camp Dora. After camp, again we explore the top. We see our first view of the full Kullu-Manali valley. We can hear a faint roar as Beas rages below.
The walk down is a run. The terrain has unexpectedly gouged holes and this is our first adrenaline rush as we miss the holes by mere inches, running at full tilt.
Dora has the best views so far.

27 May
Usual sunrise. Everyone preps for a long day, the longest so far. Even our lunch is just biscuits and Frooti, to avoid high altitude nausea.
We reach the top. Snow is ubiquitous now, though it doesn't cover more than 50% of the land. We have left the tree-line far behind.
Guides change, we wait and play in the snow.
New guides lead us downwards.
    Snow-Slides.
            There are two slides. Long steep patches of snow, where you slide down on your bum. The first one is quite long, about 1 km. But people clog the lane, we cannot go down full speed. A few of us climb back half way [walking on snow is fun!] and come down again, no brakes. Super fun! The next slide is a small one, but very steep. This time we are all experts and we slide down nicely.
Camp is a bit ragged, and in a not-so-nice spot. But the food is ample and we are high on the euphoria of the slide.

28 May
Climb down to Lekhni is fun, but nothing new to look at. A few people make some excuses and climb down all the way, to go home early. We stay put and reach the beautiful bungalow at Lekhni. Here we eat a local steamed sandwich, siddu. A lively game of dumb charades sprouts up, much fun is had.

29 May
We amble down to Alu Ground, chatting all the way down. On the way, we eat the most exquisite strawberries ever seen by yours truly. they are selling small cup-full of berries, at 10 bucks a cup. we finish all the cups they have. The base camp is almost packed up as we reach Babeli, since we are one of the last groups. We have lunch and depart for rafting. Rafting is fun, but not out of this world. Everyone makes plans, departs. Fond farewells.
We plan to go to Srinagar via Pathankot. We change our plans midway and get down at Dharamsala in the night.

30 May
Short naps in the hotel room at Dharamsala refills out batteries. We set out to explore Mcleodganj. It is a nice little touristy place, with a high concentration of Tibetan refugees. We cannot decide on a plan of action till 6 pm as loads of alternate plans crop up. Finally, on the insistence of Shar's parents, we decide to stay put in McLeod, and leave on the morrow. we go down to Dharamsala, get our bags up and spend the night in the most awesome guest house ever. No frills, it is nice a clean place, with open spaces and pleasant styling. We eat tibetan food at Hotel Tibet. Gyathuk with mutton momos. Gyathuk is a soup-like thing, a kind of tibetan ramen, with noodles meat and veggies. It is heavenly.

31 May

We get up and visit the temple of His Holiness The XIVth Dalai Lama. It is modern boxy structure, but it excudes charm and peace and quiet. The tibetan chants lend the place a spiritual aura.
We eat a HUGE breakfast at Jimmy's italian kitchen. Off to Bhag-su Naag temple, the Kul-Daivat [Home God] of the Gurkha Regiment. It is a nice temple, chock-full with tourists. The Bhag-su Naag waterfall is long and nice.
We buy some yak and rabbit wool clothing from friends and family.
Lunch is at Tibet Kitchen. We eat bhutanese and tibetan food that leaves us smiling with joy. The food experience at McLeod has been awesome. Awesome.
Bus to Haridwar leaves from Dharamsala at 5 pm. Route is scenic, and we sleep as the sun goes down. Bus breaks down in the middle of the night and we spend a sweltering 45 minutes in the workshop of Uuna bus sand.

1 June

We wake up to the hustle and bustle of Haridwar. Uttarakhand is a big change from Himachal. We dont venture out from the bus stop at Haridwar. We somehow manage to get a bus to Rishikesh, an incomprehensible task at the chaotic bus stand. The bus is stuck on 3rd gear half way through, and we chug our way into a desolate Rishikesh bus stand.  We do not know that the stand is a little way out of the city proper, and the first look at Rishikesh is a bit surprising. We check into the nearest decent place. We are advised to take a 410 rupee rickshaw, that will show us all the sights of the nice little town.
We cross the Ganges via the Lakshman Jhula. Me and Mandar dip into the Ganga at a nice semi-isolated place. As we walk towards Ram Jhula, our way back, we start seeing the crowds that are expected at such a place of pilgrimage. We have tea/coffee in a hippy cafe, and walk back across the Ganga using the Ram Jhula to our rickshaw. He shows us some more sights. We go to the hotel and rush to the bus stand.
Here too, chaos reigns. Though we are in time, it seems the bus we had planned on using is already full. We catch the next one to Delhi.

2 June
We wake up as the bus pulls into Anand Vihar bus stand at Delhi. We make plans, and go to Mr Ganeshan's place, where Sharvari has her bags. We eat some breakfast, take naps, say our goodbyes to Sharvari and leave around 2 to the railway station.
In the hustle and bustle of the last 2 days and the tons on conflicting instructions, We haven't been able to book tickets back. We decide to rough it in the general compartment. The ticket person suggests Paschim express, we rush to New Delhi station to catch it. I cannot believe how full it is as it pulls into the station. We enter, somehow. Mandar goes left, I go right. We never see each other until we alight at Mumbai. I get to sit after a couple of hours, as some people get down. Once I sit, I get up only twice, momentarily to stretch my legs. No food, no bathroom breaks, nothing. We get down at Borivili, rush to mumbai central. Mandar gets me something to eat as I buy a ticket to Nashik.
Here, though there is a big crowd, I get to sit in the door. A breezy 4 hours is nothing compared to a sweltering 22 hours. at 8:30 pm, I step out of Indian Rail property after a total of 28 hours.




Weirdly, I am not tired at all.

p.s.: http://goo.gl/maps/dzvr

The blue line is the valley. Saurkundi is just to the left of the line [near Patlikuhl]. 

Dharamsala is marked. Mcleodganj is about 10 km away, sitting pretty right on top of Dharamsala [on a mountain]

In the bottom right corner, you can probably see Rishikesh. 

Neringa Ramayana Part 4!

[for links to previous parts, scroll down to previous post..]

"

Ramayana: Chapter 4- Alliances

As always, I will begin with a quick recap...

Dasrath - king of ayodhya - has no kids - then 4 kids - eldest is Ram [the hero] - one of the queens wreaks havoc - ram, sita and laxman go in exile - are kinda happy - sita gets kidnapped - a dying vulture tells ram who took her.

So,
 Grief stricken, ram and laxman are trying to re-concile themselves to the situation.

meanwhile, i will tell you a side story...

Pawan Putra Hanuman ki Jay! [Hanuman, son of the wind, is Awesome!]

This is the story of two brothers, Vali and Sugriva. These are the vanars or monkey people [another class of people like humans and rakshas and gods etc]. attaching a photo of hanuman, a major player in this story later, who is a vanar or monkey person. this photo depicts a later scene from our story, i will come to that later.

So, vali and sugriva. Now Vali is the elder brother and the king of the vanars. these vanars are brawny creatures, known for their strength and valour. So, once, when a terrible demon [like the bigfoot or kingkong  or something] comes and troubles theri kingdom, both brothers set out to kill him.

terrible fight ensues and all that... the demon flees into a cave. Vali tells sugriva that he is going in, and sugriva should put a stone at the entrance and block it so that it cant escape. once he has slayed it, he will call from inside, that would be the signal for sugriva to open up.

sugriva agrees, and stands guard. After a while, he sees blood seeping out from under the stone. Afraid that the demon has killed his brother, he flees from there, in the hope that atleast the demon would die cooped up in the cave [as he has blocked the entrance]. he is kind of an asshole of a brother.

sugriva returns to his palace, triumphant at having defeated the demon and promptly installs himself as the king. he takes over vali's possessions, wife and kids and all.

Now, it turns out, the blood was vali's but he aint dead. in fact, he had killed the demon, in a very awesome fight [which, sadly, no one could see, inside of a cave being dark and all ;) ] . so,  after a few days, vali manages to dislodge the rock at the mouth of the cave and comes back to his kingdom to find his brother has usurped all. he immediately assumes his brother has plotted against him and betrayed him. he banishes sugriva from the kingdom and takes his family under his protection.

so, end of side story.

now, ram and laxman are roaming the forests to find out where ravan has taken sita, and in the same forest, they meet sugriva.
he tells them his sad story, tells them it was all a misunderstanding and being an asshole and a non-brave person is not a crime after all. But the clincher is, that he promises ram, that if ram helps him defeat vali, he would help him find sita.

so, the moral of this is, in politics, you have to make ugly allainces with ugly people to achieve good things. So ram allies with sugriva. Sugriva goes to the capital and challenges vali to a duel to death. They fight and just as sugriva is losing, ram fires an arrow from behind a tree into vali, and sugriva wins.

Vali accuses ram of breaking the rules and cheating, basically doing a thing outside of his dharma or principles. here, as a lesson to all readers, ram expounds on how this wasnt breaking his dharma but was acting exactly according to it. he had promised to help sugriva. It basically says that you cant do stuff that is good for someone, even according to dharma, isnt good for everyone. You have to make a choice and live with it, that whatever you do, everyone cant be taken into account. if you help someone, someone else is going to be affected, maybe for the worse and you cant help him too. etc etc

So, sugriva gets back his kingdom and family. in a rage, he plans to kill off vali's widow and son. ram stays his hand and reminds him that these are his family. mortified, sugriva installs Angad, vali's son, as prince in waiting and gives vali's widow an honoured place etc.

now, all done, sugriva starts enjoying his kingly lifestyle once more. In this, he forgets about his promise to ram about helping him and lending the manpower of the vanar army to look for sita [which is what ram needs, more eyes to look for his wife.]

Ram asks laxaman to go to sugriva and his wife, tara, to make them see the light and not renege on his promise. Sugriva laughs off an angry laxman [who is held back by tara]. The wise wife, tara, realises the urgency of the situation and convinces sugriva to make good his promise. he does and how that helps our heroes, we will see in the next chapter, titled "hanuman" .



"

Neringa Ramayan: 3

No intro needed... [for background refer to part 1 and part 2]

"

Ramayana, Chapter Three: The premise

so, to recap: dasarath, has no sons, then has four sons, then by machinations of his wife, sends his awesome son ram to the jungle, in exile, and bharat is the ruler in his stead.

last time we saw Ram, he was wandering in the jungle sans shoes, [ :D :D ] with wifey Sita and bro Laxman. So, he roamed and roamed, saw a suitable place, and asked laxman to build a camp in this place. This place was a jungle named dandakaranya. In this jungle, they build camp at Panchwati. literally, this means:

panch : five
wati: banyan tree

so, this is a place with 5 banyans... this place is still there, in the old parts of the city of Nashik, where my parents live, there is still a place called panchawati and it has 5 banyan trees.

so, they build camp here, and start living. after a while, they strike up a routine, and are living quite happily.


meanwhile, in the kingdom of lanka, [this is the island in the south of india, the country of Sri Lanka or Ceylon] there is a brave and valliant king of the rakshas.. Ravana.

He was a very good king to his subjects, Lanka was enjoying its most prosperous period in this time. It was so rich, it was known [still called by some] as "sone ki lanka" that is , "the lanka of gold" or "the land of gold, called lanka" . he had defeated Kubera [who was the earlier ruler of Lanka, and Ravana's half brother], the God of wealth, in battle and had amassed his wealth and all that...

now, i will describe Ravana's family in some detail:

His wife: Mandodari, a dutiful and pious wife, who was as good and brave and a follower of dharma as her husband

His Son, Indrajeet: An extremely capable and skilled warrior who had learnt everything about warcraft there was to learn, he was also skilled in the magical techiniques...

His Brother, Kumbhakarana and Vibhishana

Now these Three brothers share a peculiar story... They had, during thier  youth, all prayed to the gods, for boons...

Kumbhakarna got the ability to sleep for long periods of time [quirky fellow]

Vibhishana was a devoted kinda guy, he asked for eternal servitude to the gods...

Ravana was very passionate and dedicated. In order to impress brahma, who he was praying to, he cut his head off, [curiously, a new one would appear everytime] and give the head up as offering to the god. This is he did 9 times, giving brahma 9 of his heads as offering.

Brahma was happy, came to offer him his boon.. Ravana asked for eternal life, which brahma said no to. But in lieu of this, he gave him the next best thing. He gave him a pouch of nectar, which he could keep in his navel and as long as it was there, he couldnt die. Also, brahma gave him back his 9 heads. So, Ravana has 10 heads, which is kinda symbolic of many things. That he was a learned fellow, very intelligent etc etc...

so, ram and ravana are quite similar to each other. both are strict adherents of Dharma, highly skilled and learned fellows. Only thing is, ram has control over his senses, being an incarnation of the gods. Ravana, being a rakshas, doesnt have that.


Now, back to ram/laxaman/sita.

There, In dandakaranya, there lived a rakshas lady named surpanakha. She saw these three people there and immediately fell in love with the handsome and comely Ram... Rakshas have the ability to shape-shift, and she made herself into a beautiful lady and tried to snare Ram with her charms.

Ram was amused at first and humoured her for a bit. Then he told her that he was already married to and loved Sita. She said she was a rakshas and would eat sita, after which she and ram could live happily ever after. by this point Ram was pretty much pissed off at her and told her to go to laxaman and he would take care of her.

Laxman also toyed with her a bit [seems a bit cruel, but her intentions werent pure either.. :P ] but when she talked about killing his beloved sis-in-law, he got angry, picked up a sword and chopped off her nose..

THe city i was talking about, where my parent live, is named Nashik. nose in sanskrit is 'Nasika' . so you see the connection there too...


it turns out, this buxom lass, this rakshas surpanakha, was actually ravana's sister. She ran to another brother of hers, Khara, who sent 7 of his rakshas friends to kill these humans...

ram and laxaman dispatched them easily. Then , seeing that 7 weren't enough, he got together 700,000 soldiers, leading them himself and went to fight ram . [talk about an over reaction! :) ]
But, as can be expected, they were all killed by our heroes as well...

this time, surpanakha went to ravana's court in lanka, and asked him to revenge the death of her brother and her nose. Ravana had an airplane, "pushpak vimana" whiich he used to immediately go to dandakaranya and see for himself who it was who did this to his sister.  One look at sita, and he was filled with lust for her. he immediately hatched a plan to make her his. He found an old rakshas, his maternal uncle, who he forced to imitate a beautiful golden deer and cavort near sita and run away..

as soon as she saw the deer, she fell in love with its coat, and she asked ram to get it. Ram, exasperated, asked laxaman to protect sita, and ran after the deer.

the deer [maareech] ran quick and fast, but after much running, ram killed it with an arrow. Maareech imitated ram's voice, shouting out "laxaman, help me please!"

sita, upon hearing this, quickly ran to laxaman, asking him to go and help his brother. laxaman was torn between his brother's orders and his sis-in-laws pleading. Although he had complete faith in his brother's ability to take care of himself, he had t relent to his sis-in-law's crying. He took up an arrow, marked out a circle around the hutment. This was a Laxaman rekha or "laxaman's line" . anyone who crosses the laxaman rekha, without laxaman's permisssion, is burnt by flames which come from the line.

so, thus protected, he goes in search of his brother. Ravana, hiding in the forest nearby, is happy that everything is going according to plan , and, in the guise of a mendicant, approaches sita's hut.
He asks for alms, and she says, i will keep the stuff outside, you come and pick it up.

in india, mendicants are highly respected people and people dare'nt disrespect them .

Ravana [as a mendicant] flew into a mock rage and said how dare you disrespect me and say such a thing.

afraid of committing a sin, she rushed out of her hut, ventured to the edge of the line and offered him alms and food.

seizing the opportunity to seize her, ravana pounced on her and kidnapped her. He put her onto his airplane and flew away to lanka...

meanwhile, laxaman reached Ram and both, seeing maareech was the deer [rakshas turn to the original form on their death] realized it was a trap and rushed back to their hut. seeing the signs of an obvious kidnalpping, they were stricken with sorrow....

they immediately rushed out in all directions, looking for Sita.

after some time, they saw a hideous vulture lying on the ground. In his grief stricken state, ram assumed this was the vile creature who had taken his sita. he drew his arrow to the vulture and told him to tell all, at the pain of death.

The Vulture, it turned out, was the brother of the lord of vultures. He was Jatayu, an old friend of Dasarath, Ram's father. He saw ravana making away with sita and tried valiantly to fight him and rescue the damsel in distress. Ravana cut away his wings in the battle and Jatayu fell to the ground. Ram, sorry for assuming this noble creature had done him wrong, gave him some water to drink and made sure his last minutes would be in a safe and comfortable position.

so now, i we are at a position where ram knows ravana has kidnapped his wife, and in the next chapter he will mount a rescue mission...

ciao!

"

Little Expectations

After a trip out in the sun, everything on and around you is hot. The clothes, the metallic dial of the watch, the glasses, everything. Even the bag is hot to touch. When you reach inside the bag, and take out that cool book from inside, isn't it simply the best feeling ever? It is to me. When I find something like this, a cool coverlet on my bed, on a hot afternoon, a warm pillow on winter nights, the pleasurable cool of the laptop that I have just taken out from the bag, it is just my favourite thing in the world. 

I have never shared this with anyone before. I dont know how many, but I am sure most people would have noticed this phenomenon and like to some degree. As I was thinking about writing about this, I got to thinking of the aftermath. 

Though I like this thing, more than anything in the world, I would never seek it. I would never go out of my way to make sure I encounter this thing. I mean, I flip my pillow just before sleeping to get the coolth out, but I would never put my clothes in the fridge just before wearing them on a summers day. It is just one of the those things, that you just smile when they happen, and move on. 

But, now that I have made public my admiration for this little thing, every time I experience it, to whatever degree, I would HAVE to like it. I couldn't be true to myself if I have said it is what I love, and then not like it when it happens. So when it does happen, how can I be sure that my smile is due to actual pleasure of the occasion or because I have to? The joy is somewhat diminished when I make public my pleasure, it seems. Making public, making superlative statements to the fact, impose a sort of burden on me, to enjoy it to that degree. The actual joy and the expected joy are now inseparable. 

This does not happen all the time. There are some small things, whose qualities we tend to exaggerate in talking about them, then suffer from this burden of expectation. Dont get me wrong, the exaggeration is not always false. At that moment, we do feel that extraordinary amount of joy or bliss. But that the same degree or type of feeling will be replicated the next time or not, is not guaranteed. But the description, now on public record, binds us to seek out that particular type, whether it is there or not.

It is like we get caught up in our own words. And what are words? just words, right? But they do carry a burden.  

I guess this is why some of us don't like to talk a lot about small things.


post script: [4 days later...] : hmmph. Just as I thought, the joy of the the cool things on a hot day is a bit diminished. What for? Just words. Just words.

Galapagos 2012

Live blog.

Since everyone wanted a live feed of the proceedings, and a live video feed was a little beyond my resources, I decided to do the next best thing. A live blog feed. This is my first attempt, so forgive any boring parts, and cheer for the funny and interesting parts :)

Keep refreshing this page for updates...

2: 22 pm:  The prep is in full swing. People running around on stage and off it. Music is being tuned in. A lot of hubbub, the hall itself is preparing to go live, it seems. Everyone is rehearsing their roles.

The hall is nicely decorated with balloons and such. A few of them have started bursting, providing a nice background :)

As they tune the speakers and such, the hall is reverberating with extremely annoying high bass music... Since Chopade sir has already made an appearance, about half an hour ago, it seems the proceedings will begin soon. With the customary speech, I hope. And a re-hash of this famous Choto se Chulo tum song...

2:28 pm: First announcement warning people to line up backstage as they plan to start in 10 minutes. First round of heckling and trolling begins, as one groups shouts ONE MORE to that announcement...

People, as expected, have grouped themselves according to sensibilities... Sir and staff in the first few rows. the fifth and sixth years in the middle, managing the heckling. Assorted juniors clumped near the front, indistinguishable youths.. :) The non participants are then grouped towards the sides and the back.

Good to see a nice costume party of sorts, with people dressed in outlandish clothes, carrying odd contraptions :)

2:36 pm: As the buzz of "Jaldi chalu karo" fills the impatient audience, the people backstage scurrying around frantically, to get everything started. They said 1pm, it is just 1.5 hours late. Not so bad, considering the usual average.

The lights have been put off, the huge blue screen of a paused projector on stage. Poised and ready.

2:50 pm: It starts! A video of the previous  fests starts the proceedings. People cheer at appropriate times. Two juniors start the compeering, oddly, in marathi. As the video ends, The MAN walks onto stage, to start his SPEECH.

2:55 pm:  Chopade speech. Peppered with the usual Ithinkindatyounows and fraction of second i said yes and IBB is Great etc etc...

2:55 pm: Speech over in record time!!!!! just 5 min

3:00 pm:  They begin with the 1st years dance. The compeering is a bit scripted, but I guess the jokes will follow. Dance to begin now. 1st year.

3:00 pm:  Contrary to tradition, instead of the usual pooja, or ganesh vandana... we start with Its the time to disco and Qeu sera sera... Hilariously entertaining dancing! Go 1st years!! Rocking start!

3:04 pm: 3rds years bring a little marathi gondhal to the stage. Navawari saris looking good on stage!

And the guys join them for the next song... and hilarity ensues!!! hahahaha!superfun

Insane finale with a super durga pose...

3:09 pm: Brave solo dance by a second year girl... cham cham karta... she is dancing amongst the audience before going to the stage. Respect!

Light people screwing up a bit, and the audio also stopped a little. But nothing perturbs this seemingly slip of a girl. The best stage presence by a soloist I have seen in a while. Amidst weird guys in the audience, much heckling, she held her own. And a great dance to boot.

3:14 pm:  Micro dept people now karaoke-ing. Filling in Dr Chopade's shoes, I guess. Better than him though.. Two ladies, I don’t know who. hasta hua noorani chehra...

3:18 pm: Lavani. I missed who this is.. but looks good. Two full decked girls...

Its Gayatri and sneha in an encore of their performance a few years back! By encore I mean with additions of course, not a repeat.

Very nice dance this, and long! funky cameo by some juniors with a 12 waje chi bus in vajle ki bara... :)

3:30 pm: Still these two people on stage. Audio system is a bit odd, coming on in fits and starts. Hasn’t affected the composure of the girls though. they keep on dancing :)

Welcoming nikhil ajinkya and shefali to the hall. Was getting a bit bored alone. :)

It’s been a nice and awesome show till now, have to say though, the audience behaviour leaves a lot to be desired.

3:37 pm: Budding couple of IBB Archit and Aishwarya do a duet on "time of my life". Dirty dancing! Archit is way past his dhoom days, Swazye-ing it with ease! lifts and all!

3:41 pm: A gaggle of third year girls doing a funky western number...

Extremely on the edge performance. Wink wink. Gotta see chopade sir's expression on this one! surely priceless! I half expect him to step up and stop this thing right now!

3:45 pm:  Its hardik kakkad purushottam chetan et al on stage! this is the current senior most batch.... oops almost forgot vinay nair, sumit and vaibhav... the girls yet to come on stage...

girls come...

extremely awesome song selection... tan tanan tan tan taara chalti hain kya nau se bara, unchi hain blding, jungle hain adhi raat hain. mujshe shaadi karogi. ekdum sallu khan etc. :)

best entertainer so far, insane song selection!

4:00 pm: and immediately, we have a play by the 4th years. ""kyunki X bhi kabhi girlfriend thi...

a play on the relationships between mismatched couples. Very intelligent and funny ideas they have, only the continuity is a little something they could have worked on more. But very nice play...

3:56 pm: 2nd year girls. Chikni chameli-esque songs. big group on stage, lots of energy! lotsa audience support too...

4:14 pm: 4th years now chammak challo-ing...

brilliantly coordinated dance. best performance so far

superlative performance...though the glaring absence of chandana was felt throughout. lets hope she has a solo performance later...

4:26 pm: faculty dance... and guess what the setting chakka shivaji maharaj enters and the faculty performs for him!!! and the maharaj is none other than Praveen sir himself! nikhil and ajinkya provide the flag waving... nice co-ordinated lezhim by the ladies of IBB. good performance

4:35 pm:  a music performance by the second years/ a guy with a guitar and another with a small bongo. lets see what they do. an instant cheer from their section of the crowd went up as they entered. popular people these...

a mixed version of hotel california. good music, but the voice is a bit odd. luckily, the mike levels are low, so the focus is on his music...

long gaps in between. if I may say so myself, the hosting could have been a bit better. Its not bad, just that there are biggish gaps in between.

internet is conking off. I will keep track of the events and provide a summary later. ciao!

11:30 pm: Finally home, normal internet service resumed. So, the evening. It was a mixed bag really, some really awesome things and some a bit off.

Le me begin with some things I didn’t like. The whole show was a bit disconnected to each other. There was no acknowledgement of the performance before, and while the audience was clapping, the announcement of the next performance was already done. May be you needed that to get the 30 odd performances done on time. But thats not the biggest complaint I had. For some reason, there were a couple of songs sung in between. One was a classical performance. I thought he sung swimmingly well, but it was out of place, wedged in between a couple of dances. If they had started the show with this classical singing, maybe it would have been cooler. The other singing performance was plain bad. We had to say "bas karo" and stop them from singing more songs, and they had already sung quite a few. There wasn’t a hint of sur or taal, and it was quite ordinary. What it also did was mask the good guitar player who was accompanying them! when he did a solo later, we were all impressed. Also, the prize distribution was a bit funny, what with many phd students and junior faculty sitting in the audience as the organisers themselves handing out the prizes [with pats on the backs to the winners to boot!].

That done, let me list out the larger list of things I liked!

In the vein of the nice guitar player, there was also a flute soloist, who was so good, me and shefali kept saying "Ha manus firodiya chya weles ka navata!" :)

The hostel dances at the end provided a very high energy finale to the whole event. That exemplifies the idea of Galapagos as I see it. It isn't about organizing a fest. Not to brag, but we have done it twice, and frankly, it was one of the easiest things I have ever done. Nothing much to it. It isn’t about the performance itself. It is about the effort and enthusiasm and spirit behind the performance. Hostel dances aren't known for their quality. But they do have a lot of energy and spirit, and we all love them.

The effort part was evident in all the performances by the 4th year batch, the one with chandana, sumer, abhijeet, pradumnya, devashree etc. All their performances were really good. After the break, there were just two.

Archit devashree and chandana did a mixed dance. We all know these three can dance. And boy did they dance! excellent co-ordination, and a very god quality dance.

Their batch did a play based on the Firodiya winning play by SIT, "back to school". This play had a lot of complicated elements. Showing the flashback successfully. carrying out the many one liners in the play to perfection, getting out all the punches. They comic [and complex] element of the three bullies doing everything in sync. etc etc. I was afraid, it was an easy to play to botch.

Let me tell you, they didn’t disappoint A BIT. The play was, in a word, KADAK. Excellent acting. The leads were comfortable,  the best friend consummate. Pradumnya, as the comic relief, was the star I felt. They adapted the story well, to suit the IBB background. well taken punches. All in all, the highlight of the day.

With that, I concluded my semi-live coverage of the fest. All in all, it was an evening well spent. the event had a few mishaps, but then this article has so many punctuation errors too! :) I loved the creativity and enthusiasm of the current crop of IBBians, and leave with the fond hope, that like us, they too try their hand at some things outside of the University, and taste the sweet nectar of high profile exposure.

p.s. : you can stop refreshing the page now... :P

Mumbai: Urbs prima Indiae

After agonising for 10 minutes on the title, I have settled on a simple [Orhan Pamuk-esque] title. During a recent trip to Mumbai, I had the opportunity to explore the ins and outs of Fort and CST on foot and via BEST. I had tons of fun and some nice moments. Lets see what. 

So, It was the wedding of a school friend of mine. We hadnt met in 7-8 years since 10th, but such is the school-friend phenomenon, that you pick up the threads as you left them, even with such humongous gaps in between. Quick description: 

Left for Pune on saturday, attended his Ring Ceremony, at Mahape [near Koparkhairane, New Bombay]. Came back on Sunday morning [more like afternoon] to attend the wedding of The Devika. Had fun there too, a nice little sojourn to Chocolate Room with a bunch of friends, and loads of juicy IISER gossip. :) 

Saturday evening back to Mahape, to attend the reception [the wedding had taken place in the day]. As the groom left for the venue, we took it upon ourselves to decorate the bridal chamber. It was fun, trying to think of innovative ways of arranging flowers to make it look elegant :) . We wanted to seal the deal with candles, but the hotel literally snuffed out our idea by saying no fire in the room as it triggers the fire alarms. So we had to make do with flowers and a nice little cherry cheese-cake. 

I went to CST the next morning, to meet a friend, who promptly stood me up. Waiting for another friend, a fellow wedding-attendee, I started roaming about the nice old buildings of CST. This friend was at Borivali, and 2 hours turned to 8 and I had 23 tons of time on my hands. It was fun though, I was in no particular hurry, and I had a whale of a time, roaming around aimlessly, soaking it in. 

There are plenty of buses that do the CST-Nariman Point-CST circuit. All I had to do was hop onto a double decker, and sit myself down on the first seat on the top and have a nice sight-seeing tour. Turned out, a couple had hogged the front row, both sitting one each on the 2 front benches. As the bus was virtually empty, out of courtesy, I had to sit on the second row. Best 10 minutes of my day! As you can imagine, I sat behind the girl. There is a window on these seats, where the windshield would be. As I sat behind her, the wind wafted through these windows and through her, hair all flowing and nice, into me. A sweet, fragrant time... Take a second to imagine this situation and realize how awesome it was :)

[was thinking of putting this photo here, but it doesn't cover it, and such things are best left to imagination.]

As I look back, I see that the entire day could be typified by this one moment. I could soak in the beauty of the surroundings, virtually as an outsider. But in the end, she got down with her boyfriend, oblivious to my presence. I didnt mind it though! The moment was good enough. As I roamed about the streets of Fort, I could see and observe many things. Mostly the intersection of the very old and the hip and young. The city itself, or the people, were oblivious to this soaking in of mine though. They were engrossed in their own loves. 

If I try to describe the city in one overarching theme, I would fail. By city I mean just Fort, but still. It is like the neo-colonial architecture in the area. A hodge podge of many different styles. Gothic pillars, English decorations, Islamic onion domes, Parsi symbolism, Indian materials, Brit-Raj architecture etc etc etc. A hodge podge, true, but not a mess. What emerged was neither of its components. They didnt just merge seamlessly, they melted together to forge a new style. Thats the flavour of that area. Yet, it is not too. Do not try to reconcile this paradox, coz it is there, like a living, breathing thing and you cant explain it away. Metres away from the Taj, we have a poor kid selling fruit slices for 2 rupees a slice. Just below the financial nerve centre of the country, the RBI HQ, are two guys selling Vada Pav and Chai. Just outside some of the oldest buildings in the country, you see some of the most forward thinking kids to ever set foot inside a college. All this created even more hodge podginess. But again, there was the total absence of incompatibility. Every niche was occupied, every opportunity utilized, to present a seamless facade.  Every element was just that, in its element. Everywhere, again and again, there was this feeling, that my being there or not being there was not making one iota of a difference. Some places engulf you, some entertain you, some demand entrance qualifications. Mumbai did nothing of the sort. It just didnt care, you come and you go, we have enough of our own cares to worry about...

There was a road, so small that only one car could pass through at once. It was small because there were cars parked parallel on both sides of the road. In such a small space, I found the longest sedan I have ever seen. 

This Chrysler Fleetwood is LONG. If it doesnt seem so long in the pic, here is a telling observation. There was a Honda Accord parked beside it. To my [admittedly excited] eyes, it seemed to be atleast 1.5 times the length of the Accord! It was a maroon car, lovingly preserved, spotlessly shiny. The interiors were a nice suede leather, plush seats. Not enough room inside it seemed, for such a huge boot, but there it was. Almost exactly as new, except for the stolen chrysler symbol on the front. 

Jostling for eye and leg space, were a multitude of shops. All those old building bearing this attack on their frontage with a stiff upper lip. Most of the windows above level 1 were closed or broken. As the light declined into twilight, most of the windows were dark too. I was insanely curious to go up and see what is inside. Were there actual rooms, or was the facade of the building just painted on? It was that lifeless. But not in a bad way, you know. It wasnt forbidding, not abandoned, just out of reach... There were a few beacons of lights dotting the windows here and there, to show that yes, there was life in them. Not like the the forbidding gates of Mordor, but equally inaccessible. 

These buildings were decades old. All those years of the sea breeze coupled with a fierce monsoon had failed to make a significant dent, but the softening around the edges gave them character. Worn out, but still quite unused. everything smacked of paradoxes. 

On a previous visit to this area, with Santosh, Yatindra and Yoga, we had chanced upon a nice little burger place, Fidos. It has since closed down, but every time I come here, I try to find another place like this. A previous hunt with Swetha in tow brought us the amazing Mad Over Donuts. This time though, I had no such luck. After a while, after much searching, I gave up. I decided to get lost. It was slightly difficult, as the roads are quite intuitively laid out and signboards are a-plenty. I did manage to lose myself, and one of favourite Beatles songs came to mind.... 

Magic feeling indeed. 

After a while, I got tired [and however comfortable clothes you wear, chafing is unavoidable after walking for 4-5 hours with a bag on your back...] and decided to go back to the bus trips. As dusk fell, I could see many kid-parent jodis wend their way back to bus stands and into buses to CST to go back home. The faces of an excited kid after a day at the Gateway, quietly enjoying their icecreams as worried dads held the the other hand to make sure the kid doesnt get lost way told the entire story. 

I made two more bus trips before my friend finally turned up and we made our merry way back to Pune. All my euphoria and exertions coalesced into a nice feel-good feeling, on the way back [quite like the icecream-kids]... on the back of which I am writing this whole thing. Many more things to write, many more thoughts, but right now, this is what springs to mind...