the finer things in life need a mention ...

Firangi Paani & I

2011-08-17T16:28:00.000-07:00

Meet the pretty flower. As I walked in to the British Library, noticed the flower drop and land on the kadapa tile. I had an impluse to pick it up, but decided against it and went in anyway. Minutes later, as I stepped out, the flower lay on the rough tile, so fresh and beautiful that I didn't have a heart to leave it there.

Placed neatly between my fingers it covered my ring and 'pretended' to be a finger 'ring'. A lovely dash of dark pink, slight yellow and just enough white! And we walked hand-in-hand. The next stop was a fancy-shawancy 'beer place' apparently the only microbrewery in town. (I'm not giving names, search online)

As my friend went in to click some pictures (she's writing about this place) - we sat there on a nice old-fashioned bench, painted a worn-out sea-green. And that's where the little photo shoot occured.

It's not a brilliant shot, but I just needed to capture the crisp flower against the bench.

After so much 'work' (we visited a gallery, then the library :p)it was time for 'coffee time'. And the next shot was there ... sitting at the table, almost passing off as decoration, (or so I think :))

A shortchanged pedestrian's rant

2011-08-17T15:45:00.000-07:00

I live a dangerous life. How so, you ask? Let's try and explain this. I am part of the vast majority that lives life precariously.

I am a pedestrian and a complusive bus-hopper. Yes, this is by choice. I am a jittery driver and then again - a bus-hopper can always hop out if there is a jam and board the bus ahead ... (sure there are limits to doing that too)

Getting back to living dangerously. Well, I am part of the tribe that even though is in majority is truly in minority. I'm a pedestrian!

So, in the larger city plan, I do not exist. I kid you not. Look out of your window, or walk out of that gated community exit door and you will see roads so broad that you need to be a national level athelete to cross it in the given 10 seconds at the traffic signal. That too, if you are lucky to be standing at a signal that accepts your existence (whatever traffic signals are left, of them only a few have a 10 or lesser seconds slot for pedestrains to cross over).

Most roads today are signal free, and I was at one such road today. Richmond road on which is situated Baldwin Women's Methodist college (my alma mater) and till very recently my workplace. I was crossing to the other side of the road and after waiting patiently for a good five minutes - a friend and I decided to brave the on-coming traffic.

And we almost got killed!! No exaggeration. I was seconds close to death - don't know if a bus traveling at 5km/hr speed can kill but, it can surely cause bodily harm. Just as we reached the center of the road, a bus closed in on us, inspite of seeing us get on the road. And we were almost sandwiched between two buses - both drivers thought it wasn't their duty to stop to allow us - pedestrians - the right of way!

And this is on a stretch that is packed. And it got me thinking. Why are authorities allowing such mindless infrastructural changes? Near my home, on Bellary road highway, they are further expanding the 8 lane road. And this time they have eaten into the side walk. So, now, everytime you cross, you need to thank your stars that you crossed over unscathed.

I don't have numbers or stats to justify this. They aren't needed. Here's the simple truth - every time you get off your vehicle you are the largest minority in the town planners book. Yes, you are a pedestrian - even if it is for a minute.

Even those planning this expansion of roads are included. Then, why this gross miscalculation? Is it because they don't care or is it a way to push every city deweller to aspire to own a vehicle?

It's nothing but "Forced aspiration" a way to ensure that the consumerist culture continues. In a time where sustainablity is a word thrown around for convenience, we fail to see how encouraging a pedestrain culture makes a wise long-term sense, obviously is also sustainable.

It means better health for the citizens,
It means better air quality (lesser cars = lesser fumes)
It means lesser air-borne diseases
It means lesser visits to the doctor
It means reduced noise pollution
It means lesser road accidents/deaths
And all this adds to a better quality of life.

Yet, we the largest minority on the roads of Bangalore city or actually almost every Indian city are being shortchanged. We are the lesser mortals whose lives hold no value - because we don't zip around in shiny bikes or guzzler cars.

Freedom lesson from the Mall - Part 2

2011-08-15T10:24:00.000-07:00

Okay, so today was a day of learning. I was at the counter again! Well, ya, last minute shopping. Anyhow, after the shocker I decided it was wise for me to allow my sister to get the goodies billed. I stood close-by.

And I noticed, the girl in front of my sister had this very boho-look, wow! Anyhow, she seemed to have shopped a lot - the piled clothes hid the guy behind the counter. As he finished billing and the piling reduced to show his face, he told the boho-girl the bill, she gave him her card.

Seconds before swiping he tells her, "And ma'am, there will be a Rs5 charge."
Boho-girl asks, "Why?"
Billing Guy replies, "For the plastic cover."
Boho-girl - "Plastic what?"
Billing Guy - "Cover, ma'am."
Boho-girl - (pauses and slighty peeved) - "Now, you want to make money from this too."
Billing Guy - "Ma'am it is per government rule ma'am."
Boho-girl - "Ok, just put everything in one bag! HMPF!"

Now, my sister & I were grinning from ear-to-ear. Her reaction was not surprising. We carry our own bag. Well, we aren't mall rats and we do have this habit, formed recently. And yes, we even carry it to the mall.

Then again, Boho-girl wasn't happy, yet she was at the Freedom sale. Are we realy free? We need a sustainable approach and it means tweaking our ways. And the less plastic the better. Yet, Boho-girl felt she was being cheated, why should she be charged for plastic cover. I am sure, she would have gladly campaigned for a GREEN EARTH, yet she was here unable to join the dots.

Suggestion - Boho-girl - a big jhola( cloth bag) will complete your look.

Happy Independence Day!

Freedom lesson from the Mall - PART 1

2011-08-15T09:42:00.000-07:00

Yes, that's the last place you expect to be taught anything - except that consumerism is good.

The visit was planned after all who doesn't want a good bargain. Yet, there is something about our (was accompanied by my younger sis) shopping ways that even on a SALE day, we picked something on FULL MRP! Sorry I digress.

Standing in queue, I patiently waited my turn. In front of me, a young couple (early 20s) stood. They looked really happy - two shopping bag full on their either side bore testimony. The hep-looking guy (he had two piercing on his left ear! I thought looked chic!) tapped his debit/credit card, patience wearing off. Suddenly, an older bearded man cut in line, stood ahead of me and behind the couple, handed the merchandise to the guy at the counter.

The girl yelled at the man, asking him to get in the line. The man yelled back, informing her that he take already told the guy at the counter he was coming back. Without listening, she shot back abuses at him, to which the bearded man reacted and asked her to shut up. Her beau, by now started nudging the bearded man, yelling at the top of his voice - "How dare you speak rudely to her!". He pushed the bearded man, who grabbed the guy's shirt, pushed him back. The young guy almost punched the bearded man.

Everyone around was aghast, their shopping experience ruined (they were getting delayed) some felt annoyed and some others enjoyed the 'fight scene'. I was too close to the scene and was scared I would get hit if any one of them missed the punch and so stepped back gingerly, hoping not to step on someone's foot.

Just in time the store manager appeared, intervened - promised the bearded guy that his purchased merchandise would be billed first - "But, Sir, please come to the side." The man left fuming - stood a few feet away.

And I got back to where I was standing - behind the couple. What I did not expect was the giggle of the girl. She was somehow amused at the whole scene. She felt nice that her man "fought for her" and tried to calm the rattled guy who didn't mind calling the man - M*therF****ER, etc. And then, as if she was soothing a child, the girl said - "Forget it, these people don't know how to behave. She saw me looking at her and smiled. I didn't understand what she meant by these people.

I was still trying to figure what that meant, when I heard what she said next - these low class people don't know how to shop". I was apalled. I couldn't believe I had heard what she had said. As if reading my mind, she said it again! She called the bearded man that because unlike this 'cool, chic couple' he was dressed simply - in a pant and a shirt and was slightly darker complexioned.

Her beau, pacified a little said - "Ya, that M*therF****ER grabbed my shirt, just imagine! I would have punched him."

Really? Is this how HIGH CLASS people talk! I was disappointed and felt angry. Not only had the couple branded this man from a low class, they felt it was very sophisticated to hurl abuse after abuse on that man.

Did their education teach them this? Were they right to misbehave with a man who was slightly elder to them? Would they talk to their parents like this?

It got me thinking. Are we really free? Is this what freedom means? To disrespect and be rude and to abuse.

There is some time before we truly attain indendepence - from biases.

We will be independent, the day -
we rid ourselves of biases,
we respect the other person as we would want to be respected and
we allow space for dialouge.

For personally, I feel if the couple had requested politely and heard the man - this wouldn't have happened.

Freedom comes with responsibility and we shouldn't forget that.

Why do I feel so negative?

2009-11-30T06:15:00.000-08:00

People around me, disgust me! Yeah, that’s what this is about. Pseudo-types who pretend to care, but don’t. I wish I could be them, sometimes, I do. Then again, I wouldn’t want to live with that sort of me.
We are so engrossed feeding the myth into society that we are even living it. It’s about that day, that moment – no background check, no follow-ups, certainly no tracking – it’s forgotten just as it was remembered – instantly.
I can’t plaster a smile when I want to punch you in your face. That’s why these days I walk with a frown, that’s as close to being civil I can get.
I have nothing against any one, I have everything against everyone.
We are so worried how good our poker-straight hair look that we spend hours preening in the parlour. Nothing wrong with that, just don’t sit in an A/C room and worry about the less fortunate. You aren’t helping.
Neither am I, and that’s bothering me. Need to get out there and help, any one who needs it, and not because I’m privileged, no because I am human. Because as an intrinsic trait, I feel the need to share – a skill, a joke – anything that brings a smile to those who have far more uncertain lives than you and me.
On a day, when I’m struggling to key-in 500 words, this surprises me. So, it’s not like I’m losing touch – not affected by writer’s block (don’t believe it, anyway!), just that I’m doing lame things that are eating into my time.
Hmm … even watching TV is a task I don’t want to do! Yes, so inspiring it is at this point in time. Time to fix it! Or what’s the difference between the pseudo-types and me? Nothing we are all same, and I guess I’m a bigger loser to let things go by. Okay, need to act and act right. There’s an action plan forming in the head, just need inspiration to follow through.
Calling inspiration? Texting inspiration? Where are you Inspiration?!

Blue's good

2009-04-20T02:46:00.000-07:00

Did you wake up from the wrong side of the bed? That's okay. In fact, sometimes it is more than okay to feel crappy. And no, I'm not talking about the Monday morning blues. They are so passé. I mean, come on, if your life is only stressed on one day in a week, I want to know how. We live in bad times, you are getting a better deal than me and it's unfair.

We all seem to want less stress, less pain and yet the way we run our lives, it is more than apparent that we like the life we get. Let's see. For instance, if I want to be successful, I take on more on my plate than I can handle. So, obviously, I'm trying to push the limits. I'm inviting stress. We are doing that all the time. There's nothing wrong in that, except for one thing. We expect everything to turn out the way we want it to be. We HATE failure.

Actually, it is best to make peace on that front. How? Simple — accept it. While failure is painful it is also our chance to learn. It is an experience, we can draw a lot from it. I like failure. Not always, mind you. Why? It keeps me grounded. It is a simple mechanism to control a bloated ego. I fall I pick myself up, look back and promise to not repeat the mistake. And no, it isn't as simple as it sounds. But, with practice it gets better.

I read a poem in class sixth by Emily Dickinson — Success is counted sweetest by those who ne'er succeed. You can google it if you want. For those who'd rather do something else, here's the jest, as I understand — if you haven't tasted failure, you'll never cherish your success. It is true, to an extent. So, are you feeling like a loser? Its okay, next time you get that pat on the back, you'll feel really good about it. Try it!

Election time - remember the rally

2009-04-03T08:58:00.000-07:00

This time round when you vote, don't forget the nusiance some parties created. I still can't forget the JD(S) rally that left my sister stranded at school - she walked back home. 10kms that's the distance she covered, 4 hours spent waiting and then finally walking home. Even dad who left home to bring back my sister from school waited in a bus at Hebbal flyover. Thankfully he decided to take public transport. He had the option of walking to the school. I was happily sitting in an auto with a fickleminded driver taking me all over town - he claimed he knew a jam-proof route, sure why not!

Anyways, I wrote this then to vent out. Now seems a good time to post it ... so read on ...

Leading normal lives is not easy. And yet scores of us do just that, without complaining. Who’s listening, anyway. But that’s a different story all together.

Politicians on the other hand are a different species altogether. These ‘people’s representatives’ once in power suddenly fear the very people who they represent and need Z-security. When they are on the move, in the city, people like you and me endure long traffic jams just so our ministers have an easy clearance.

Then again there is only so much we can grin and bear. And seriously, we have ran out of patience. Did you see the madness that ensued on the day JD(S) big wigs decided to have a political meeting on a busy work day in Bangalore?

Silicon city turned stranded city. Five hours of chaos, helplessness and frustration. Not taking into account precious morning hours spent patiently at traffic jams that very morning.

So, in the evening the last thing we expected was to be sucked into a jam that stretched for hours. Our families were at large, this time, thanks to you even our children walked miles to be home as we ourselves were left twiddling our fingers waiting at the other end of the jam.

So, dear Mr Politician(s), please DON”T try to have any meetings at our expense. We — the tax paying citizens of this country, state, city — do not like it. We hate to see you de-face the city space flaunting your party flags. And may be you ought to take lessons in litter management. Learn to clear after yourselves! Don’t leave ugly hoarding hanging, they can kill innocent pedestrians and motorists. Leaving us stranded at the bus stands and at the mercy of autorikshaws isn’t funny either.

We may not be your target vote bank, but with the nasty memories of that day still etched on our mind, we just might surprise you next election season. And don’t forget, you need to use the money we pay as tax constructively — fix the pot-hole infested roads, plant trees to get back the green cover the city once so enjoyed. Don’t use it to fan your ego and for once do something useful, you just might get elected on sheer credit (work credit) and save lot of money as well as paper.

Time for a little reality check — for once lead a life of an ordinary citizen!

Films that I like

2009-03-10T07:36:00.000-07:00

May not be the ones that you like. And when I say that I mean it. My friends can vouch for it. In fact, I once was given the good job of writing reviews. Believe me, I did torture many a poor souls. Every time I raved about a film, it managed to bomb at the box office. Sigh! Here. I was trying to save the producer's world from sinking ... giving the film 4 stars and all, but it was of no use. But I couldn't match public opinion. I never do, I should have known it was the wrong job for me! Anyways, lesson learnt :)
I guess, for me criticism is always positive. Yes, it isn't a word I take negatively. Who made the rule that criticism is only negative.? Back in college, my English lecturer drilled it in to our heads that criticism did not mean the wrongs in a work.
I have believed that for several reasons than one. I mean we had to critique Wordsworth, Byron and the likes of them, so it was really difficult to say what they did wrong — apart from their meter, I still don't understand that talk of iambic meter and blah!
Now about film and writing reviews, I don't do it anymore. Okay, listen, not because I gave 4 plus to all flicks I watched, but I changed jobs. So, that is that. But friends and family are grateful that I don't get to impose my likes on them. At least when it comes to films.
About the films I like, Saawariya by Sanjay Leela Bhansali and ... ok, don't frown! I simply adore that film. I know, you hated the blue-green colour scheme and just about every thing in the film. But, I don't want to know.
The other film that I really like is Delhi-6 by Rakeysh Omprakash Mehra. I didn't mind the kaala bandar ... just by the way :)
Well, I have been wanting to write a long really long review for Saawariya and now Delhi-6, and if I get the time (at work) I will definitely write an elaborate one. Yes, with all the space in world wide web at my disposal I'm going to write about every tiny detail in the two films.
All you unfaithful friends who can't understand my obsession with the kind of films I like, well, just skip the space and come back later.

Customer satisfaction an art …

2008-11-20T00:51:00.001-08:00

Isn’t difficult to master. You just need to keep your eyes and ears open. A lesson I learnt from the autorikshaw wallas. Today, from the moment I boarded the rikshaw the driver kept trying to suggest an alternate [read longer] route. When I asked him why he couldn’t go on the normal route, his reason: “Madam, ee routege jaasti traffic ide (this is a heavy traffic route)
Yeah, I know that. I even know that when one road gets jammed the alternate routes succumb to the same fate in less than 10 minutes. So, I put my foot down and he (disgusted by me) stayed on the normal, traffic-infested route. But boy was he persistent, at every traffic signal, he’d turn around and with pleading eyes suggest a change of route. Finally, I just gave him one big boring lecture on the traffic in the city and even gave him a few pointers on how he could turn this lose-lose situation into a win-win one, by relaxing or even taking a quick 5 minute nap! (yeah, poor guy, he had no choice but to listen to my rotten kannada-hindi-english monologue)
That kept him focused on driving for a while but it was only good till the next traffic signal. This time round he said something that had me smile ear-to-ear. The sneaky, conniving guy said something to this effect: Madam, why do you want to waste your time in the traffic. I will take you from a better route. It may be a little longer but at least you will reach office on time. GRIN(auto guy). Hmm, why didn’t I meet this guy earlier?? I mean, why now? when my constant late comings have earned me that special nod, exchange of glances, reserved for me, from colleagues at work. The first impressions have been made, my friend, so don’t bother and stay on traffic-infested route. STIFF UPPER LIP(me).
Down right disgust on his face he stayed on route and ignored me for the last few minutes.
I felt good. I don’t know why. I was not hassled by the traffic (even though I was going to be late to work) and neither was I upset with the driver for constantly interrupting and invading my Me-time. After a while I felt silly to be smiling all by myself. But, then I had reason enough. This over-bearing auto guy made be realize that it was so easy for them (auto guys, who else?!) to earn that extra Rs 20 or more by sweet talk. All they need is a bit of English, a few cuss words to furl at the traffic, talk about the importance of our time and what all we have to suffer daily! Talk to us nicely (follow the above mentioned drill) and we ourselves won’t ask that five bucks back. And might just hand the extra Rs 10 with a smile
And believe me, I’ve been tricked with this sweet talk So, now I just play along and no, no more handing out whatever amount they ask. Sometimes, they are just happy I reached my destination and won’t bore them any longer. :D

American DreamZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ

2008-10-11T11:47:00.000-07:00

You know what happens when an idea gets entangled with several other ideas that are vying for attention? They all, put you to sleep. And that's exactly what happened when my friend and I went to watch a fiasco called American dreamz, a one man show by some guy who's serious going through an identity crisis. Also as my friend pointed out, "seriously needs help".

The ideas were all there and I guess even the presentation was, but what ruined the play — too many thoughts that cluttered the mindscape. It was a juvenile attempt. Why? Well, simply because all throughout the prime theme was America bashing, if not that then it was poor ol' George Bush (GB). Okay, may be we all love the occassional GB joke but blaming him for every wrong from global warming to people's behaviour? That was, I felt, uncalled for. Also, it clocked more than two hours!!!

Unlike my friend, I liked parts that I thought were simply good, almost bordering brilliance — the theatrics — I'm complimenting. Like the part where he shows the clipping of Global warming and then does a spoof of a wealthy American. That depiction holds so true for all us egoistic souls who want things not because we need them, but because the material possession will define our luxurious lifestyle. When he point out the cigar and says it's not that he can't buy a cheaper one but then why'd he want to be stressed seeing someone else smoke 'his' cigar. The I,Me, Myself syndrome???

Frankly speaking, it was a play about the selfish human that resides in all of us, the degree matters. Throw in a few characters — all played by this Kaye guy — who emphasise on core theme. Bad co-ordination. The clippings followed by his monologues. Long ones at that. (there were a few bold ones who sat in the front row and enjoyed a blissful nap) Not just that but setting high expectations did him in to. Almost shouting "not for the weak-hearted", "turn off your phones or I won't be responsible for breaking any that ring"at the beginning of the play, was uncalled for. Because and I quote my friend again, "a 10-year-old could do this!"

And what's with his obession with 911. Copying a forward and giving the same gyaan again, why??

A rather long, dragged performance. That's what this was. Why would I watch a three-hour long play that is so negative, reminds me of someone who has a lot of soul-searching to do and who likes to blame the wrongs on others. Time for a reality check? I'd ask him to list 5 things he's done that've made this world a better place. Why wait for Bush to lead you, man?

Paws that left a mark

2008-10-08T04:37:00.000-07:00

White with patches of brown near the nose he showed traces of the naughty brat he'd turn out to be. He boarded the bus with his care-taker, a boy of nine or 10, followed by his mum who carried not just her hand bag, but also her son's tiffin carrier. Several seats were empty on the bus. Somehow, I sensed they'd sit next to me. Not all of them, just the mother. She nudged her way and sank into the seat. Comfortable.

Liquid eyes met mine and it was puppy love, literally. Let's call him fluff. He clung to the
boy's right shoulder, unsure yet seemingly safe, clutching the indigoed-white school
shirt. Tiny beady eyes that said lots without uttering a woof!

I sat like a stiff old woman not wanting to create a fuss over the cute little thing. So, yes, I felt funny not reacting. Acting snooty and doing very well, thank you. Others, meanwhile had a good look at fluff and the identical twins sitting diagonally opposite us even had a hushed conversation ohhh-ing and ahhh-ing mid sentence. The boy brimmed with pride, a kind of innocent pride, you only find in kids when they are proud of their new dress or pet. He was pet-proud and why not he had just adopted a white 'healthy' stray. Or his pet had finally decided to adopt him.

Fluff may have a new name by now, but that day he was just called 'doggy' by his owner-friend. I've never come across a well-behaved kid( pup). I mean, he just plonked himself between the school bag, handbag and the woman's arm.So, back to the liquid eyes meeting my framed ones. It was an interesting few seconds. The pup was so sure of himself, while his adopted family discussed his dietary requirements, we just looked at each other. He had this sureness that was way beyond his age. I liked his confidence or was it his adventurous streak that he decided to adopt a family? Which ever I thought he'd make a friendly, loyal companion. We instantly became friends, no not the usual kind that goes all out on PDA, we are old school, because while we just looked admiringly at one other we kept to ourselves. No leaning to pat him business for his part fluff didn't attempt to lick/sniff my brand new bag. Very civil. Very us. I approved of his
behaviour and by his manner, knew he did mine. In a strange way I felt connected to this being.
He was so like me. Kept his distance and no he didn't think I was a snob just because I refused to pat his forehead. In fact, he maintained the civility to the core. Minded himself and let his eyes do the talking.

Curiosity didn't get the better of him, for he maintained a safe distance. Someone may
have been disappointed if the dog behaved liked that with them, but I was pleasantly pleased. I'm no dog-hater, but I have issue with people who can pat a dog/cat and then sit down to eat with the same hands without caring to wash away the germs. Eww! Gross.

Joy ride

2008-09-30T11:20:00.000-07:00

Yes. In a city whose narrow roads are almost choking with traffic, I find my bus rides a pleasure. Two hours. That's how long it takes me one way — home to work. So, on an average I spend four hours travelling.
Days when I get to sit the entire two hours and get the buses on my route on time, one after the other, it is clockwork. It is just blissful! Like today. It seemed a perfect day. Got the bus on time and then lucky me, even had the option to choose a seat. Just that brought in so much change in the way I looked at things today. It wasn't hot, in-your-face-bright anymore, but a pleasant, sunny day. Every time the driver honked it was music to my ears. Even when the conductor gave back just Rs 20 and announced he'd give the remaining Rs 50 later, I just smiled an okay!
See, what a world of difference a seat can make?
I got time to think — random things, stared at nothing and generally felt at peace with the world around me. The ten minute walk to work didn't sap me out either. On the way back, it was the same story. It made up for all those days when I hang by the rod near the entrance hoping and praying that I don't spill out ... yes spill out of the bus. Days like these dissuade me from getting my own vehicle on the road or for that matter renewing my learner's license.
I'll tell you five reasons you should hop, jump and climb that bus :
1. It is fun
2. It helps ease traffic
3. It heals the wallet
4. and the lungs
5. and keeps your BP in check!
It is a No-hassles ride*. You don't have to bother the traffic, or the faulty tripping meter and all this saves you with lots of energy and cash at your disposal. I think it is time the BMTC hires me as their PR! What say?

(* there are worse days when you are standing on one foot, those are the tiring times when you don't mind paying that damn one-and-a-half meter charge)

Been there, seen that

2008-09-26T04:45:00.000-07:00

And now I need something for posterity. After all, there's only so much that ones brain can retain. So at 60, I could just direct my grandchildren to the blog. Now, that's long term. But for now, I'd dedicate this space for purely creative pursuits.
What you'll find here are accounts of visits to — galleries, book stores, theatres, shows and performances. I usually have an opinion and I guess, this is where I'll have it known. This space is about me and things that interest me could be things, people or places.