ChanguMangu

Surprises- Some Observations

2012-01-23T08:25:00.002+05:30

Since the time I been in the U.S., my life has taken a completely new direction and turn. The first few months were like unwrapping a gift box everyday. Each day brought with it a new set of wonders and surprises. The first day that I landed in the U.S., I was taken out by my roommates for some Mexican food. They were very nice to me, but I only remember being enthralled with the fact that in spite it being past 8.30 in the night, it was still as bright as afternoon. I couldn't stop marveling at the sun setting so late for days. It did turn my sleeping cycle upside down for the first few nights. My body refused to co-operate when I would feed it dinner at 8.00. "No!", it protested. It was still too light outside to have dinner. Finally, after a couple of weeks, my body learned to adjust.

The next surprising thing that I encountered was when I got lost. On my 3rd day, I was to attend an orientation for new students. Given a bike, and some vague directions, I decided to make my way to the campus. I pride myself on being rather good with directions, and so cleverly I took a wrong turn only to land up around 8 miles away from my destination. Still smarting at my cleverness, I asked a passerby for directions. He was also kind enough to offer me a drive, but I refused (I have been taught never to accept ride from strangers, no matter what!). So I huffed and puffed and made my uphill way to the campus. It was a hot September day and my muscles screamed in protest. But I figured that getting lost is one of the best ways to learn about a place.

And then of course came the 'how you doing/how are you?' part. I was well-prepared for it, but it really hit me the first time it was thrown out at me. This was the first cultural difference that I experienced. Weird was the thought in my head then. I still don't feel comfortable with it, but now I have made my peace with it.

I also learned a lot about independence here. I had to do everything alone. I took my first flight all alone. I started to go buy my groceries all alone. I ventured to the scary downtown area all alone. From being used to do things in groups back home, this alone thing was daunting. But I persisted.

Also this alone thing was translated in the courses that I took. Only difference is that they call it individualism. The courses at first were very frightening. I felt awkward and out of place. I didn't know when to make a suitable comment and when to inject my opinion (and I still don't!, but I'm learning). I couldn't muster my thoughts to put it into words. Now it is slowly becoming routine in all the classes. A word here, a sentence there. It made me think how different it was back in school and college in India- It was instilled in us that talking is bad, and me being the ever-obedient student, I was eager to comply with those stupid rules (Yeah I was goody-two shoes back then!). And now here, if you refrain from talking, points are docked off from your grade. Well!

But the most curious thing that surprises me is that I don't miss home at all. I occasionally miss my friends and family, but nothing about the past makes me yearn for it again. Probably, it is the excitement of a new place. It does make me feel very hollow at times, as if I have lost the capacity to feel. I realized that I neither miss the old times nor the old moments . I just miss the familiar faces and the sound of their comforting laughter.

Weary

2011-12-18T10:49:00.001+05:30

You are but what I am,

Comprenez-vous?

Making wishes since very long,

Saw them all disappear behind moist eyes.

Like the feeling you get in a train,

Watching the landscape fly past,

And you yearn for that one glimpse,

That one elusive nameless something.

Drowning is imminent,

No drinks, no pot,

Just a lot of mundane routines,

I still hear your sounds,

But you never gave me that one look.

You never gave me that one smile,

It's reserved for someone special, I'd say.

And I craved like a fool looking for the riches.

Persistent-pessimist, someone calls me,

The sun is tired, and so am I.

Lets Kill All the Lies

2011-12-18T03:08:00.000+05:30

Brutal honesty is no balm,

And little did I know

That the gospel would shatter my calm.

Collecting the scarred fragments of the heart,

I will seal it, but it weighs the mind down.

Lessons have always been tough,

And I'm a reluctant learner.

But now I know,

The light at the end of the rainbow had faded a long time ago.

The dream had died, and the warmth had burnt itself out.

But I refused to buy any doubt.

I always liked to play make-believe,

And now I wish I could tell the child

Its better not to grow up, the world is teeming with thieves.

A cruel glance, a flick of the chin.

That will be enough to let you know.

That it was ever so easy,

To make me let go.

A gulp, and the tears are swallowed,

And nobody's the wiser because none saw and no one heard.

Are you against Corruption? Really?

2011-08-17T19:27:00.007+05:30

When my fellow Indians are united in their show of support to Mr Anna Hazare, I am now wondering what cause are they exactly supporting. Is it merely being reduced to a show of status messages on Facebook or is it really a fight against corruption or now as it is being called- India's second struggle for independence. Really now, this is bordering on the corny.

Corruption as being understood now is narrowly construed as being involved in bribery but what about the corruption that we blatantly and willingly do when we refuse to exercise our right to vote. Just supporting Hazare's cause and believing that it is time to bring about a change is foolhardy. When words have to be translated to action, very few stand up to be counted.

I have become increasingly disillusioned by Anna Hazare's campaign of India against corruption. Here is a man who was initially known for changing the face of Ralegaon Siddhi and also the recipient of the Padma Bhushan. But hunt for the stories behind this and you will find a dangerously authoritarian man who preaches Gandhi but doesn't blink an eye while endorsing public flogging. People in the village are not permitted to listen or view films, television programs, they aren't allowed to consume meat because it is unbrahminical to do so. People are only allowed to listen to religious music. People acquiesce to these decision due to fear. So is this the kind of democracy that Hazare is rooting for?

By not supporting Hazare's crusade against corruption doesn't make me a supporter of UPA, the opposition or any other political party. I do not subscribe to any political ideology but this disenchantment is harder to ignore by the day. The government's charges against Hazare exposing his 'corruption' is certainly laughable and just goes to show how the hapless government is now jumping on any opportunity to discredit Hazare and his creed. To call it a circus also doesn't do justice to the kind of rigmarole playing out on our television sets.

The very middle class who is miffed at the abstract notion of black money is in support of the movement which has fast yet again turned into an elitist middle class event. Where is this middle class when it comes to paying a wee little bit of money to speed up their work or to escape the clutches of the traffic policeman? What people are actually doing is registering their disdain for an utterly incompetent government. It is quite clear that Hazare's movement is a way to vent their frustration against our hapless government.

Corruption has reached such alarming proportions due to wicked policies that are always anti-people. Cleverly disguised under words such as development and liberalisation, all our resources of land and water have been siphoned off while our people have become refugees 10 times over. How many of us know that Medha Patkar is fasting against the eviction of people from the slums in Mumbai? Irom Sharmila has completed 11 years of fasting now. Aren't they all too fighting against apathetic instititutions? Are their fasts going to just be in vain? I wish there was a way to get rid of the government, pull them down. But what are the other options? The opposition seems to be grappling with its own internal problems. It's akin to being caught between the devil and the deep sea.

This is not a critique of Hazare or the Government (though the government deserves a more violent diatribe) nor am I self-styling myself to be a saint. If there is a chance self introspection take it. I end with a small incident. Recently, late at night I was headed back home. Just the fact that it is the night doesn't give one the right to speed through one-way stretches. If I wouldn't have braked and swerved in the nick of time, it would have been catastrophic. Isn't that too being corrupt too? How in the world does the other person get the authority to play with my life? Corruption as I see it is not just about exchange of bribes. Corruption transcends all these perceptions and in the end rests at moral corruption. And in the end who is to know whether the committee created by the Jan Lok Pal Bill will be devoid of corruption. Who is to say that this committee will be totally free of being dishonest. Who watches over them? What justifies resting so much power in the committee?

Power corrupts, doesn't it? In the meantime, the hunt for an all encompassing solution continues. But that is being too optimistic, isn't it

Wings on the Feet

2011-07-07T18:49:00.001+05:30

Cities have a strange way of growing on you. All the exploring to do gives me a high- figuring out the ways, asking for directions and inevitably, also the getting lost in strange streets. Having spent 23 years of my life in my home city Pune, moving out to Bangalore was a dream come true. The freedom along with the responsibility was something that I managed very smoothly. There were no growing up pains and I quite enjoyed living alone. I would wait eagerly for the weekends wherein I would escape into a different part of the town every time. One day there was the old part of Malleshwaram to explore while another time it was the Russel Market in Shivajinagar. Armed with a camera and loads of water, I played the part of an enthralled tourist to perfection. Curiously, I did not miss my home town at all. Agreed, Pune has its own charm but it had got kind of tiresome roaming around the same places and meeting the same set of people.

Having spent 5 months in Bangalore, I then did another month-long stint in Delhi. Again the same kind of excitement and joyousness swept over me. Delhi was a place that I had always longed to go to- a peculiar longing mixed with romantic notions that were never to be. But keeping that aside, Delhi was all that I wanted it to be and much more. June is one of the most nasty months to be in Delhi. But I certainly couldn't care less. All the rivers of sweat notwithstanding, I still feel that I left a part of me over there. The jostling around on the streets, navigating the crowds while keeping in mind the many warnings about the unsafe nature of Delhi...all of them are now relegated to a special corner of my memory bank. Now keeping the memories safe for another day when I can go back to savour all those moments once again. Cities are because of its people and this is what I enjoy the most.

All this travelling around makes me feel very light. Now that I am back home, I can't wait to pack my bags and set off again on some new road once again. I wish I had wings on my feet. Places entice and I sigh.

Cities touch. Cities ignite.

Delhi Diaries

2011-05-30T19:22:00.001+05:30

One day old in Delhi. I cannot believe it that I am finally here. Previous plans to Delhi have always got cancelled. But this time, things fell into place and finally I am here!

I am here for a month long sojourn attending a course. The course was just a reason for me to visit Delhi and my primary aim is to jaunt around the city as much as possible. Besides, my friend too is doing the course with me, so loneliness is also kept at bay.

The Metro

Our first stop was the Akshardham Temple. Now I am no temple tourist and never willingly visit temples unless I feel a pull. But this was different. A new city needs explored and for me any place will do. Plus there was the added attraction of travelling in the metro which for some unknown made me feel cool, snooty and clever. I also felt like clapping my hands and jumping up each time metro reached a station.

From the Metro Station

Cars taking darshan

So Akshardham wasn't all that great. I just felt it to be a religious gimmick thriving on people's faith and money. We didn't get tickets for the exhibition, the boat ride and the robotic shows (Each ticket Rs. 200) but I didn't feel as if I missed much. Instead we sat through the fountain show- (Each ticket priced at Rs. 30 and attended by scores of people). Other than being a dance of light, water and smoke this too isn't as spectacular as much as the hype that was created. Or am I missing something here?

I just saw a lot of money being taken from people and just felt that religion is an extremely profitable business. So much for being the largest Hindu temple in the world. I still don't get the point. The best part about Akshardham was the number of languages that fell on our ears. Right from punjabi, gujrati, marathi, bengali, tamil and a number of others. People flock here just about from everywhere.

Moving on, we ended up making friends with a cycle-rickshawala. Got talking to him and came to know that they make an honest hard day's work. Cycling on bad roads, being bullied by the six-seater rickshaws and the worst I felt was the uphill cycling. I felt bad bargaining with them about the fare but that's how it is.

Crossing into U.P. on and off...being greeted by Mayawati

Connaught Place was yet again a different story. It is daunting for a first timer to venture out there alone. The directions at the metro station (Rajiv Chowk) are very good and precise-only if you know where you have to go. We, having no fixed agenda just decided to amble along the inner ring road. Most of the shops were just starting to open up (this at 11.30 in the morning!), found a ear-ring seller and bought a couple of pairs (people who know my fetish for ear-rings, it's obvious what I would do first!), found PVR Plaza where we am going for a film festival on Thursday and discovered a quaint little shop that serves awesome milkshakes in huge bottles all for 40 bucks.

The ubiquitous waterwallas dotted all over the city

CP :)

Newspapers from La Francaise, Deutchland...all March editions.

No tobacco for under 18

English Dairy- Serves only North Indian cuisine

My meal

Palika Bazaar beckoned enticingly but my hosts had warned us against going there because of a crude crowd. It's not that we were fearful in going there but we reckoned that it's in our own interest that we stay away from unpleasant situations.

Coming back we found the same rickshawala and he dropped us back home. Today we are shifting from Vasundhara Enclave to our hostel at Sainik Farms. More to see, more to take in.

Cheers to exploring!

This is not a diatribe

2011-05-08T01:36:00.010+05:30

I protest. Strongly. A low comedy played out today and it was too absurd even to evict any emotion resembling laughter. Our final presentations were scheduled today and a person no less than our very own HOD walked in to evaluate the students. After months of intense hard work I was looking forward to the presentations because I was looking for feedback on my work and it was an opportunity to share my experiences with my classmates.

My presentation was the first one that she evaluated. I was expecting a fair and critical analysis from the evaluators with concrete suggestions that we could incorporate in our work in the future. But what transpired was very different from my expectations.

It all started because I had essentially carried out research in the social sciences and the HOD has a chemistry background fortified by the rigors of laboratory work and being buried under piles of unnecessary paper work.

But that shouldn't make a difference, should it? Inspite of being from a pure science background, she could have been more open to the fact that research in social science is possible. She refused to believe that data in social science is generated by talking to people, by taking into account people's perceptions and relying on independent observations. Why else would it be called a 'social' science then? Her eyebrows were in danger of disappearing into her hair when I informed her that I generated primary data by interviewing people. Why else would it be called primary data?

She expressed extreme surprise, astonishment and dismissed my entire work because I spent only 21 days doing field work. How could I explain to her that I encountered conditions where I had to eat food infested with rat shit and cockroaches and that some nights I went without food as I was too disgusted to eat the crap anymore? But I am digressing here. Why does the number of days that I spend on field matter as long as I collect data that is reliable and proves my hypothesis right? It is immaterial whether I spend 10 days or 30 days. All the days of walking for 10 kms everyday for long hours in the sun boiled down to this. The quality of the time spent should matter and not the quantity.

She was also disbelieving of the fact that I conducted 50 interviews and that each interview consisted of nearly 200 closed and open ended questions. She expected me to list all the questions on the slides that I had prepared. Really now, come on!

According to her, I spending 21 days on field for my work is very less because a period of 6 months is granted to us. Just to make it clear- we are granted only 4 months out of which the major chunk is spent in conducting a literature review, working out and managing the logistics of the field visit, scheduling interviews, framing relevant questions to be included in the questionnaire and analysing data.

Another problematic area was the classification of my respondents. I had used the standard method of classification where respondents are grouped in categories based on the amount of land that they possess.

Large Farmers: >10 acres

Medium Farmers: 5-10 acres

Small Farmers: 0.01-5 acres

Herders

Landless

This is the protocol followed in my field of interest (watershed development). She said that this kind of classification is wrong because a farmer cannot be large, medium or small in the real sense. Really madam, your quibbling over semantics exposed your pettiness and your scientific approach. Pray, where is the logic?

And it is not just about me. When another student gave her presentation, our HOD was disbelieving that Self Help Groups are formed by NGOs in areas where watershed development projects are carried out to bring the community together. Her ignorance can be forgiven but not her arrogance.

She was keen to drive home the point that conducting a thesis out of the University is an exercise in futility as students end up having a gala time outside their homes. Sorry, this did not hold true in majority of my classmates. We got an opportunity to step out of the hallowed precincts of our department and explore the world outside. Unfortunately she sees that as a waste of time and now has scrapped this system for our juniors who will be expected to conduct their projects under faculty (which is virtually non-existent and the few that are there are incompetent) who are all from the chemistry background. They will be expected to perfect their skills in titration, BOD and COD estimation, chromatography and the like. Now I don't have anything against laboratory work. I myself come from a pure science background and I just discovered my calling pulling me in another direction. But I believe that our HOD needs to wake and understand that research in pure science and social science is complementary to each other. Research is but not limited to sitting for long hours in the laboratory where one has to prepare chemicals and medium, autoclave and sterilize instruments, incubate microorganisms, etc. She dismissed the fields of anthropology, history and ethnography in a wave of her hand. She believes that what people say is not does not come under the realm of hard and verifiable facts. Of course she doesn't know that there are certain methods used in social science to verify what people say. Like I said, her ignorance can be forgiven.

To be fair, there was another evaluator who despite being an ecologist asked me fair and pertinent questions about my work. She was neither judgmental nor did she have any preconceived biases against the social sciences. She interrogated me in a way that could be called real defense. My close friend gave her presentation before mine in which the HOD was not present and even she had conducted her research in the domain of the social sciences. This evaluator was fair to her too and asked very pointed and relevant questions.

This is not a personal vendetta against our HOD. It is just a ranting by a frustrated student who is caught is the grasp of people who come from a peculiar mindset that looks down upon the social sciences. It speaks volumes about the encouragement the department provides when people try to do something other than spending time in the closed and controlled conditions of the laboratory.

I will be giving a seminar shortly where I work and I believe that this will be where that I will be truly evaluated. The faculty here come from varied backgrounds but they are not dismissive about other fields. They listen and understand and encourage research from all fields. It is progressive while my department seems to be stepping into the middle ages with their initiatives of scrapping the policy of conducting projects outside Pune. She thinks that we have wasted our time having 'fun'. Stepping out of my department have opened up new avenues for me. I have learnt what it means to work in the field of academics and it was like a breath of fresh air after the unnecessary hurdles of slow and lumbering pace of work of our department.

And this wasn't true only for me. I being from a city decided to spend 4 months of my time someplace else all because of the opportunities that open up when one is out of one's comfort zone. There are some people in my class who come from rural Maharashtra and they worked in institutes like ISRO and it has done wonders for their confidence.

However, our HOD is quite determined to believe otherwise.

All is not all right in this world and the injustice rankles. I wish that I could proudly state that I have done my Masters from this department. But even I am determined to believe otherwise.

And so I rest my case.

Fliey and Spidey

2011-04-16T09:35:00.001+05:30

Dangles the spider in the air,

The flies buzz around without a care.

Lands the spider on the ground,

Now with excitement, the flies jump around.

Evil thoughts in Mr. Spidey's head,

Flies equals food, it's appettite's whet.

The flies unaware show-off their jazz,

Oh flies have a care! But they just say, “Shut up, you ass!”

Bold little Fliey gets very close

to bad tempered Mr. Spidey's nose.

Spidey's gone without food for more than a day,

And here is this juicy fly popping right into his way!

Pleased Mr. Spidey doesn't move a hair,

No sign of a twitch, this gives Fliey some more dare.

It itches to touch Mr. Spidey's back,

It lunges forward, it's head must have a crack.

Mr. Spidey bids his chance.

Readies himself without a second glance.

Fly and Spider in mid air meet,

And that's how they for the first time greet.

Little Fliey gets an inking of fear.

“Please!”, it cries out, “Spidey be a dear”.

But evil Spidey opens wide his mouth,

And the other flies stand as still as dead trouts.

Fliey in Spidey's grip!

The other flies scarper helter-skelter,

Now scared, they tumble over each other.

Spidey looks at them with glee,

He's so happy that he wants to pee!

A song the flies sing, an ode to their friend of bold.

Little Fliey's bravery will never go untold.

Though he was brave, it's a lesson for the rest,

Never mess with Spidey, that's what would be best.

Fliey being digested by Spidey! YYUM YUM!

Spidey with his cunning running strong,

He turns and thinks that he can do no wrong.

Just then a human foot alights,

And that's the end of Mr. Spidey's life

Poof-Off Again!

2011-04-05T14:54:00.001+05:30

I am going back to my field area again (Basavakalyan) :)

I am going all alone with no one to guide me this time :(

It has always been my dream to travel in the heart of rural India alone :)

The temperature in Basavakalyan is going to hit 40 :(

I am eager to meet the children at the orphanage and also Malgudi type uncle-Kishan Kaka :)

My trip got planned after a lot of anxious moments as I couldn't find a field assistant :(

I have now found 3 field assistants and I hope I get along with them :)

My bags are yet to be packed, I have to make photocopies of my questionnaires, I have to have one last discussion with my advisor and I don't know the pick up point of my bus :(

But I know that the journey is more that 13 hours and I don't have my berth on the wheel this time :)

Though I am leaving in a rush, I still feel that I am much better prepared than last time :)

Children in an Indian Village

2011-03-12T10:28:00.019+05:30

Place- Sastapur Village,
Basavakalyan Taluka,
Bidar District,
Karnataka, India

I have been meaning to pen down my thoughts about my time spent in my study area since a very long time but somehow the words wouldn't flow out straight. I saw a lot of things and and it somehow confused me. I went down to field with no pre-conceived notions. My advisor had warned me innumerable number of times to get rid of any biases that I may possess.

Happy..Simple joys

The NGO that hosts me also runs an orphanage. This is not any 'ordinary' orphanage in the real sense of the term. The children who live here are either school dropouts, or children who work as labour on farms or children who are just too poor enough to afford going to school. And these children are around 25 boys ranging from 5 years to 14 years. The NGO trains them for a year and then helps them with admissions into primary schools. Girls still don't have the privilege to be a part of such an institution as it is difficult to convince the parents that girls also need to study. It is indeed a luxury to go to school when one can rather contribute by earning wages by working on the fields.

The day begins for them at 5 am. They get up with a lot of clamour as all children do and start rushing off to start the day's work. They have to clean the compounds, bring in the vegetables, wash the rice (in a huge cauldron like vessel), wash their clothes and then take a bath at the community tap. Then at 8 they start their breakfast after a quick prayer to Annadatta. It's time for studies after this which continues till lunch time.

Bathing!

After lunch they have some respite from the rigor of their studies and they sit around trying to complete some sums or just 'read'. It sure was fun to watch them play kabaddi one evening. By 5 it's again back to studies till 10 in the night with a short break for dinner. The kids are a disciplined lot. They obey their master who doesn't refrain from using his cane liberally. They fear their elders and flinch when spoken to.

Prayers before dinner

I looked at the kids hard for 2 days before I ventured out to speak and play with them. I could only think that city kids are such a privileged lot and I was so thankful that I was lucky enough to receive the 'benefits' of living in a city and well, not a life like these kids.

On my last night I was invited to teach the children some English so that it would inspire them to keep trying to learn it. The logic being that an outsider would have greater impact on the kids rather than someone close harping about its importance day in and day out. I hesitated at first thinking that I didn't in any way want to play a part in already burdening the children but after some insistence I gave in and went.

It was 10 pm. The kids looked dead sleepy to me. A bunch of 5 kids were made to sit upfront because they were 'better' in English that the rest of the class. I mulled over what to teach such a lot because I was sure that hardly anything would make sense to them when all they wanted to do was sleep. Having no choice I started by telling them about seasons. The response was overwhelming. I could see no trace of their sleepiness and they were just so eager to soak in any bit of knowledge that came their way. Maybe the night was playing games with me.

In the classroom

The kids were very willing to sing songs so we started with Jack and Jill and Hum honge kaamyaab. And they just loved it. They followed the tone of my voice and the actions of Jack and Jill sent them into thrills.

Song singing-still looking fearful

Before leaving one boy who was 'better' at English asked me, "Tumchya sarka English bolayla kay karava lagta?" That is the point when a lot of conflicting emotions hit me-I was so touched and glad they they have the hunger to learn and yet saddened by the fact that though the hunger exists, the opportunities were not going to be easy to come by.

I say this because they previous day in one of the villages I saw one kid in his uniform roaming in the village while the rest of the children were in school. I asked him why he wasn't in school. Pat came the reply, ''Today I had to go on the field to work with my parents''.

Though these kids will be sent to school in June, there is no guarantee that they will remain in school. For most it will be back to the fields.

The Story of the Garbage and Open Sewers | iJanaagraha

2011-02-01T20:51:00.002+05:30

The Story of the Garbage and Open Sewers | iJanaagraha

A piece that I wrote. Check the link.

The Forest People

2011-01-30T21:50:00.009+05:30

My interest in knowing the lives of field assistants began in December when I met Karan in the Annamalai Wildlife Sanctuary a.k.a Indira Gandhi Wildlife Park. Karan is a forest guard and also doubles up as a guide and a field assistant according to demand. He is adept at guiding people and helping them spot wildlife. He knows the roosting spots of birds, the time a particular bird is expected to give out it's call and thus is of tremendous help to visitors and scientists who come to study and learn about the forest. We started conversing when I had to play translator for our group leader who would speak in English and Karan who would speak in Tamil. He was very surprised by the fact that I was born in Maharashtra and yet could speak Tamil.

In conversation with Karan

Karan is as dark as the night as his teeth are yellow and betel stained. He has an air of pride about himself and a quiet confidence. Pride because his years spent in the forests has made him indispensable to the many scientists and students that come to the forest for research and wildlife trails. He could 'hear' sounds before any of us could even sense the presence of any movement. He could spot birds so well camouflaged with his old but sharp eyes. We got talking eventually and he told me that visitors are so impressed with his skills that they most of them have present him with bird books, binoculars and other paraphernalia when they leave. These people have respected him. He said that though he cannot read or write English he has picked up enough from the visitors and now he has even taught himself to read so that he could make use of the Bird books. Karan was born and brought up in the Annamalai Forest and he knows every inch of the forest like the back of his hand.

He has made sure that his 2 children are well educated. He takes great pride in the fact that his elder daughter has completed her B.Ed and his younger son studies 'properly' in school. He is also happy with his life. He doesn't ever want to leave the forest he says but he also doesn't want his son to end up like him. He wants a better job and future for his son and daughter.

Once he came with us into the interior of the Forest to the Elephant Camp and then back again to our camp site in the bus. Night had set in by then and the forest took on a scary and mysterious appearance. Shadows seemed longer, menacing and threatening. Annamalai was playing up to its reputation of being the dark forest that it was, abiding with hidden secrets. He then told me that now he has to again go back to the camp on foot. The distance was more than 10 kms and then night seemed deadly cold. He said that he will enjoy the walk back and all I could think was how brave he was!

Karan also made sure to train his juniors who accompanied with him. He would teach them to hear calls and would also scold them in a fatherly manner if they wouldn't walk lightly like him. It was evident that they were not from the forest like him. He would then crack jokes with them and they all would listen when he would speak.

People like him are indispensable for researchers and people who come on nature trails. Scores of dissertations are completed because of them. Their income also depends on research projects which again are time-bound. I wondered how they supplement their meagre income when projects wind-up and finish. They deserve much more recognition than a fluctuating supply of cash and a passing reference in the acknowledgements section.

The day we left Karan wasn't around and so I couldn't tell him goodbye. I wanted to tell him that I was really grateful for the time he spent with us. He had given me a lot to think about and I realised that the forests speak to us through them..and thus we learn.

3 weeks in Bangalore and counting

2011-01-23T08:41:00.006+05:30

Nothing can be more exciting than moving to a new city. The 3 S's (sights, sounds and smells) have to be imbibed all over again. I set off on my new city mission just a couple of days into the new year so moving into a new city was doubly exciting. Too much new stuff.
As I journeyed from Bangalore City Railway Station to Shrirampur I was thrilled by the bustling in the city. I was eager to dump all my luggage and jump off and go exploring. All the new routes to be learnt, quaint shops to be chanced upon, favourite places to be discovered. Aaah each thought set me up on a high.
My weekdays are very busy here. Every morning my roomie and me set off at 9.00 am to catch our shuttle bus for work. It makes us feel very important because we both are playing adults now. From buying our groceries, cooking, going for work and all in all we are carrying an important air about us. Smug really. I too have gotten more responsible. I can't seem to find trace of the lazy bum that I left home. I get up early, prepare my breakfast, clean my room and am always ready on time. My mum's efficiency has left it's mark on me. Thanks mum.
The weekends are a different story all together. The days are spent roaming the length and breadth of some place till my legs give way. The first weekend my friend and me had a leisurely brunch at the IISc Prakurthi Canteen and watched some monkeys play haovoc with food. Later we ambled all over Malleshwaram. We found a second hand bookstore and I bought a Wodehouse and English, August for myself-something that I had been waiting to read since a very long time. We ate yummy apple cakes and bought Moong Dal Halwa from Asha Sweets (Yum Yum!). And later we rested in Sankey Tank looking at the water and the birds and gossiping after a very long time. My day was made.
The next weekend my roomie and I set off to Shivajinagar. Here too we roamed all over Commercial Street, Brigade Road and Chuch Road in search of the elusive Blossoms Bookstore. We tired out eventually with no luck and then we chanced upon Russel Market. I couldn't resist and plunged inside. And we again out on our adult demeanours to shop and bargain for some veggies. The day was awesome all in all.
And yesterday I finally met my sister. Co-incidentally we both got to work in the same city for the same time period. Real Sisters ??? :) She took care of me like always and I became her baby sister again. Now once again I'm off to be wrapped up under her wing again. Sisters are the best darlings in the world. Nothing comes close.

Over and out!

2010-12-06T17:01:00.001+05:30

Will write in disjointed words. No time to frame sentences.

Train journeys-"The Blue Mountains"- The Nilgiris-Annamalai-Mudumalai-Cold chills-hot, steaming coffee-rich tropical forest-nature trails-night walks-leeches and ticks!-Teak, rosewood and of course sandalwood!-Inevitably Veerappan!!-Trumpeting elephants, Gaurs and Sambars-some photographs-late night nostalgia with friends-gossip and gupshup-moments-the last tour-the last time as a class-the last time with friends...

End of the Year Blues

2010-12-06T01:20:00.002+05:30

Is it something I am missing after all this while?

After all once the gutsy heart dared to dream.

I wish I could find that place once again,

I could see the point where the sky embraces the earth.

To be a child or an adult is the eternal confusion,

And standing at the precipice is not fun.

Decisions are always tough and eat away precious time.

But sticking to them is tougher than anything else.

Each day is good, each day brings with it a new wonder,

And I firmly resolve now not to lumber.

Past years are best relegated to the attic,

Dustballs and grime will slowly fade them away.

The mind is the quickest time-traveller,

Skipping nimbly through long-forgotten images.

The year is drawing to a close

And my heart is returning home.

Chaos and colour

2010-11-16T23:11:00.001+05:30

The state of the mind these days. Whirling dervishes-strong winds-flashing lights-brandishing lights that look like knives-need to kill.
Waits are long, longer than it takes to say somethings.
Words fall short to describe and pinpoint that exact temperature.
Twiddling thumbs and whistling out of tune, whiling away the ticks and the tocks.
And then when you get it for keeps, you realize that you were better off without it.
Chaos and colour-all jumbled. What if everything was just black and white?

Score: Me=100, them=0

2010-11-15T20:40:00.003+05:30

Dhud-dhud-dhud-dhud-dhud..Drrrrrr rrrrrrrr drrrrrrrrrrrr...thudd thud thud thud!!!! Enough I screamed. My head was being drilled into and smashed at the same time. My ears continued to ring..first far and then slow, louder and then softer. I put my hands over my ears but I couldn't shut out the feeling. Even with eyes closed I could see the drill entering my head.
Opposite my home, 2 cranes had made my life a medley of obnoxious sounds since the past 3 weeks. Days and nights I was dragged to their horrid party. Our request to stop the drilling after 10 p.m. fell on deaf ears. Blatant violation of the law and a cocky attitude was their modus operandi. I bet that people must have suffered sleepless nights but not one had the thought of stopping them.
So here is what happened next:

11.45- Dialled 100. Phone rings.On the 8th ring the phone was answered.
Him-Hello
Me- Hello. Main Wanowrie se bol rahin hoon. Mere ghar ke paas roz raat ko construction ka kaam hota hain... petrol pump ke samne.
Him-Aaarey madam. Te road construction asel. Te allowed aahe.
Me- Nahi! Te road che kaam nahi karat aahe. Ani te pan 10 nantar allowed nahi aahe!
Him- Okay Madam. Tumcha phone number ani naav sanga.
Me-Pranietha Mudliar ani phone number **********
Him-Okay madam. Thank you.
Me- Tumcha naav kay aahe?
Him (Long pause)- Bagha Madam. Tumhi police control room la 100 dial karun majhyashi boltat aahe. Fakta he garjecha aahe. Baaki sagla soda.
Me (Rolling eyes)- Okay. Thank you.
Now I was restless. I paced my room like a caged lion.
00.00-Voila! They came! I ran to the window. Saw them wield their power. Within seconds the crane shut itself off. Now the only sound I could hear was the men and the police talking. A group gathered around the police with a bunch of papers. The police gave some damming instructions I think because nobody dared to say anything.

Police at work

00.12- The police sat on their bike and zoomed off. The silence persisted. No sounds now, just men moving in the dark that looked like stunned shadows.

There has been no drilling today. One crane is not to be seen. Everything is peaceful and quiet once again.
Normal? Just need to wait and watch now.

The light shines...and all that.

2010-11-11T01:15:00.004+05:30

The fact that University days are over for good is hitting hard these days. Undoubtedly this were one of the most memorable journeys that I have had until now. So many new vistas opened and every day was like a new discovery of the self. Ambitions long forgotten started being realized and the good-kind-of-feeling started rubbing in real hard. University does grow on you.
Now if I'm asked to pinpoint any particular memory that stands out everything just seems like a blurred film in fast forward mode. Rush rush rush. A curious mixture of 1 and a half years packaged into a 30 seconds. We entered, made the best possible friends and now we are on are way out all too soon.
Being out is strangely exciting, so many magical stories, worlds and people to explore and so many chances to imbibe their experiences and learn. Again the feeling of being a small fish in a big, big pond.
But this small fish will grow- That I promise you :)

Clear Confusion

2010-09-26T19:17:00.002+05:30

Walking on the road, with its innumerable twists and turns,

A path struck out, fantastically long.

The path, the legs longed to learn,

And the mind broke into an impromptu song.

Hidden behind spangled grasses green,

A dew dropped, pretty pink winked and preened,

Neither an illusion, nay a delusion,

It was nothing but clear confusion!

Sinhagad Sightings on 5th June

2010-08-27T21:32:00.002+05:30

Black Shouldered Kite. It's a sad pic, but I was thrilled just the same.

A merry Shoeflower.

Purple Sunbird

Crested Bunting

Nuts!

Results

2010-06-04T09:50:00.001+05:30

This is how my marksheet in my nightmare read:

Pollution- Logical

Environmental Economics-Emotional

GIS and Remote Sensing-Lachrymose

Statistics-Leering

Computers-Provisionally Passed

Practicals-********

I think my results might be in a few weeks time. I hope I pass. This nightmare doesn't portend a very promising result for me. I'm superstitious and these things unconsciously play at the back of the mind. I swear to God that I will really study the next time around. Anything to keep nightmares like these at bay.

2nd day of the rains

2010-06-01T16:14:00.001+05:30

Lights conked off suddenly. I didn't see it coming. I thought that the it would never build up into a storm. Thunder-storm. Ma'm says that there is a depression near Mumbai. This explains it. Water falling down in torrents. It's white-pure white. Crystal white. I can make out cyclones and anti-cyclones in mid air as the wind effortlessly tosses the rain about like it's some fascinating game. And the rain seems to enjoy this-surrendering in an exploding rapture and the Thunder Gods growl. Hailstones showered down now. Looks like a sheet of pearls from afar but a closer inspection would call them perfect cones.Topazes would be more accurate.

For a while all the space not occupied by rain was filled with leaves. Helter-skelter they flew. A branch has fallen on someone's car. Where do all the birds go when it pours like this?

Now the storm has abated. Everything is wiped off the grime and dust. The green looks fresher. There's a traffic jam outside. Horns blaring loudly. But the rumbling thunder is louder drowning everything else. And a hideous dance enfolds.

Yesterday the rains nearly got me but I escaped from it's clutches. I raced with it yesterday and I won. Not a lick I got. Today I'm in the indoors. But the rain seems to have won the battle. I've yet to reach home :)

Click click-In Tamhini

2010-05-30T16:15:00.004+05:30

Used a Nikon D70s.

Common Mormon.

Tamhini and D :)

2010-05-22T22:31:00.001+05:30

Off tomorrow to Tamhini once again. From being one of the places high on my mother's list of forbidden places, now she surprisingly approves of me travelling there. I have no idea why the sudden change. It has nothing to do with me. Now I wangled it out of here. She trusts one among my friends-a super duper lovable bully who also screams like a cantankerous fisherman when she is 'teaching me the right way' to drive :)

D is pretty cool, she sometimes lets me be sarcastic, lets me wield her camera, lets me exasperate her as much as I can-but oh yes..she does exact her revenge in no uncertain terms. However, now I can't help bursting out with laughter when she is scolding at me for my idiotic driving. Her expressions are priceless at those moments, she doesn't know what to make of me at those moments and there I am doubled up in full glory. D looks comical then, her hair looking like a mop on her head.

Have to get up at 4 tomorrow and I am clueless as to why I signed up for this madness. I absolutely detest waking up at anytime before 8 and this unearthly hour is mighty unsuitable for me. But the trip there holds tantalising promises again-a flaming flash of the Giant Squirrel, the mating song of the cicadas, and Blue Mormons enticing you to follow them before disappearing in the wink of an eye.

The Rajasthan Chronicles-Day 7 (Ranthambhore-Tiger Country Continued...)

2010-01-01T22:17:00.000+05:30

Shoved down a quick lunch and set off for our entry into the park in a canter. As usual there was some deliberation and people were being shuffled from one canter to the other. One boy with a girl's name and our sweetest friend was unceremoniously asked to leave our canter much to our dismay. This did much to dampen our mood. And then we set off!!! Super excited at this point of time.

The hill ranges rise up majestically on the right with wide expanses of land and then slowly the landscape turns more rocky with plentiful streams tossing out of some secret place. Vegetation too become denser as one goes deeper and at some places they knot themselves threateningly. It's very dark then and you are reminded that here you are nothing but an outsider. You don't belong here. We were allotted Route 1 and boy the twists and bumps we were subjected too!! The canter surmounted impossible rocks, squeezed itself through the narrowest paths while we remained mute spectators-the landscape was too captivating too elicit any word of protest from us. We were lost back then, the eyes always searching for some sign, some hidden movement, some glistening of the eye-hidden treasures of the forest all. We exclaimed only when someone spotted the deer, sambar and the neelgai. But the tiger remained as elusive as ever. But in the end that really didn't matter. Going inside the park itself was an event for me. The fact of missing a tiger doesn't stir up any charge in me though I would be be the last to deny the fact the that sighting the tiger would rise up my emotions sky high. In other words I would simply be mesmerised and wanting to sigh a sigh that only erupts when the magical wild spell-bounds you and you say-that's beautiful. So this dream has to mark it's time for another day. The tiger will wait for me.

And so we spotted the usual fauna of Rajasthan. Wild boar was and so was the call of the leopard that we heard while on our way out. It silenced the forest into stillness. The langurs on the tree didn't move an inch and then the sambars called out to each other. Something was not right for them. We hung around for a quarter of an hour but lady luck didn't budge to smile at us. The tour guides said that the leopard is going further away from us. Perhaps the leopard sensed the fact the idiotic tourists were waiting to gape at it with mouths hung open. It must have been a long way off before we decided to quit and move.

Evening we drove into town and loitered around. Had dinner at a useless place which thankfully had a television. Had a good time pulling faces at my class-mates. After dinner I was with a friend in her room. She was not keeping well and we both were sitting just yapping. That is when we heard terrible banging anf laughing erupting from the corridors. One of tour senior's had been locked into her room by the hotel staff and she was banging the door from inside. The other girls were outside holding the sides and laughing uncontrollably while the hotel boy sped to get the key. And lo! behold! he opened the door to find it empty! Our ever enterprising senior had risen to the job magnificently and had flied the coop! ( read-she had escaped from the bathroom door into her neighbour's room) and while the hotel boy was searching for her, she turned up from behind. The night was just beginning!!!

The infectious atmosphere spread and she decided to dress up as a local with a toy doll and scare our Ma'm who is mortally afraid of appearances like these. The plan was made and the lead actor ready. A black skirt, bangles, heavy payals and a dupatta covered her fhead and face. The doll completed her outfit. She was sneaked into our Ma'ms room and the lights were switched off. All was calm and quiet on the front. And then-out came the scream and alongwith it our Ma'm running out of her room with her hands over her ears. She was bone-scared by this apparition which called to her from the bathroom in the dark. And then out came the monster tumbling with tears of mirth. It was most hilarious. Ma'm recoverd enough to give us all a spanking on our butts. It was well worth it.

Next morning was again to be a lazy one. Others were catching an early morning canter ride and now much to my chagrin I'm regretting my foolishness of turning down the opportunity. They spotted a Caracal! I, however was more intent upon recovering from my illness and wanted a nice bit of morning rest.

On entering our room it looked as if a tornado had swept through it. It was a horrible mess. But we didn't care. I don't remember much now. I think I just plonked onto the bed and was fast asleep.

The Rajasthan Chronicles-Day 7 (Ranthambhore-Tiger Country)

2009-12-28T01:41:00.001+05:30

After reposing in the bed we went down for breakfast and finger-licking paranthas were laid out. I lost count of the number of paranthas that entered my stomach. One friend and me kept our grinding machines (read mouth) working non-stop. (He was so intent upon eating that he refused to keep count). It was a lazy morning and the first that we got to do as we wished. We sunned ourselves in the cold chill and then caught sight of mental boys jumping into the chilly pool.

Time passed quickly enough and we were then en route to meet India's Tiger Man-Fateh Singh Rathore. He looked like he was from a different day and age. A cravat around his neck, an impressive moustache adorning his face-he looked everything that I'd imagined him to me. But I had also thought of him as ferocious which turned out to be way off mark- he was gruff but very very kind. He spoke to us about park management issues, the need for rehabilitation of people who used to inhabit the space within the park, the threat to the park due to tourists, obstacles in conservation efforts due to dearth of ministers who understand the importance of ecology and wild life. He was pleased with the steps taken by Jairam Ramesh and called him 'one good minister who understands the importance of conservation'. Well more ministers like him and at least we would be on the path leading to success stories. He shared a lot of his hunting stories-he would organise hunting expeditions for the Britsh Royal Family and other Indian Royals but somewhere down the line he turned towards saving the hunted-The Tiger.

A search on Fateh Singh Rathore pours out bazillion results on this great man. My friend had specifically asked me to meet him and it was a thrill when he granted us an hour of his time. Widely known as the tiger authority in India, he is credited with successfully carrying out tiger conservation work in the Park. I guess this link will provide more accurate information on this living legend.

At the end of our time we gheraoed him clamouring around him for his autograph and more information. I asked him something about having zero experience and yet wanting to volunteer for the various projects being carried out by the park. He gave a good-natured laugh and answered that from zero he would transform all of us into heroes. He then went on to pull my cheeks-apparently he was inquiring whether I was chora or a chori.

He being so old harbours the conviction that conservation will bear fruit despite corruption, apathetic officials, ignorant tourists all because he believes in the youth. Spending time with him was something that left a smile on my face and hope in my heart that with collective efforts change is happening for the good- slowly but surely. However, they don't make people like Fateh Singh Rathore no more.

The Rajasthan Chronicles-Day 6 (Bharatpur)

2009-12-21T23:49:00.002+05:30

I woke up in the morning with a raging fever. I was burning all over and yet shivering due to the cold. I only wished to sleep right back again hidden underneath the warmest of quilts. Worse still I had lost my voice to a terrible throat ache and the pain in my ear was terrible and unfortunately that day we departed from Jaipur without breakfast so I couldn't even relieve my discomfort with pills. My friends took awesome care of me and it still makes me squirm to think of all the times I burdened them with my silly pains. I slept most of the journey and then towards mid-noon we halted at a wayside dhaba for a quick brunch which was the traditional kacchori and samosa. And the place also spotted a sign saying ' taharne ka uttam vyavastha'. Most of the lodging and boarding hotels in Rajasthan had this sign even when the place looked dilapidated and in nearly in ruins. While in the bus I overheard our teacher telling one of my friends that if I wouldn't recover by today I wouldn't be allowed on the trail to Ranthambhore. Ma'm wanted we to rest and recover before I took a turn for the worse. I had to summon all the will power I possessed to get well soon. I kept urging myself to feel better and waited for the perspiration to start trickling- a sure sign of the fever lowering. Nevertheless, I felt it in my bones that after one more night of burning I would be fit to greet the next day.

We reached Bharatpur in the afternoon and our pulse started racing when we read the board which said-'Agra-55 km'. We sorely wanted to visit Agra having come so near but our plans were quickly dismissed by our teachers by a rude face and a swear word :) We were so enticingly near and yet so maddeningly far..

We engaged a guide at Keoladeo National Park. It's so named because it has a temple dedicated to Lord Shiva at the centre of the park. It was previously named Ghana because the park is very dense. My friend had warned me though that because of a bad monsoon, the migratory birds were not seen in the park. He had said that you'll be lucky if you get to see any birds at all. Well, we did see birds but nothing exotic. Home to nearly 364 species of birds, over here birds migrate from Afghanistan, Pakistan, China and of course Siberia (the famous Siberian Crane). As we walked the change in the landscape also was very apparent-it started off being arid and then marshy and ended with a lot of water bodies. My friends helped me spot the rose ringed parakeet, flame back woodpecker, oriental magpie robin, collared dove, yello footed green pigeon, pied kingfisher, rufous tree pie, cormorant, black necked stork, rufous black shrike, white breasted water hen, mor hen, crested serpent eagle, bramhiny duck, grey heron (which was magnificent), spoonbill, black headed ibis, the indian roller, a family of spotted owlet and I got a glimpse of the hoopoe. I also finally saw the monitor lizard for the first time ever and also spotted the usual nilgais, sambars, chinkaras, spotted deer, terrapins and the bonnet macaques. Didn't get very good photographs here as the sun kept interfering and showing a very dull landscape.

But it wasn't fulfilling. We wanted to go on but were compelled to turn back as we had to reach Ranthambhore before midnight.

We had a sumptuous and delicious lunch at the forest guest house. It felt like a king's meal after eating at the roadside dhabas and hotels. The resort was beautiful and later we heard that we were actually supposed to halt there for the night but for the change in the plans. I felt better after shoving the food down my throat, my energy was back. We fooled around the resort for some time and as usual our group was the last to board the bus. People were having a gala time in the bus while I was forced to stay put due to my maddening illness. I was missing out on some real fun!

We reached Ranthambhore late at night. We were told that our trip into the park would be in the afternoon. For the first time in the trip, we had the entire morning to relax. Yuhoo!!!

The Rajasthan Chronicles-Day 5 (Finally Jaipur-The Pink City!!!!)

2009-12-16T00:28:00.002+05:30

After setting off from Ajmer, we had a long way to travel. Jaipur by far was the place I was most excited to see. My sister had spent half an hour in Jaipur some years ago-she had been shopping like wildfire for me back then. The markets that she had described were enough for enough to whet my curiosity about this place. I frankly couldn't wait! But our bus 'Laxmi' mulled along slowly and I couldn't fight the sleep anymore and in no time was fast asleep. When I woke up people in the bus were oohing and aahing at various sights. I didn't feel very well so I put myself back to sleep. But the sounds of exclamation got the better of me and I found myself looking at the various sights of the city. Palaces big and small round every corner and malls caught my eye. Here the old and new co-habited peacefully, it didn't seem wrong here to have an urban, hip mall next to a stately, old and grand palace. Jaipur was in no hurry to give up it's tag of being one of the most well-planned cities in India. The second I lay my eyes on Jaipur I loved the it!

After lunch we set off to Amer Fort also known as Amber Fort located on the Delhi-Jaipur highway. It looked down imposingly at us. A huge wall spread over nearly 4 hills caught our eye-Great wall of Jaipur??? I'd read that the one could see the fort's reflection in the lake at it's foothills, but Lake Maotha was sadly empty. We went in to be greeted by scores of monkeys and pigeons-nothing out of the ordinary in places like these.We climbed zig-zagging steps and this led to a huge courtyard. It was teeming with people and here we spent some time just admiring the wast expanse. We made our way inside and this time I was truly stunned. Beautiful hunting paintings adorned the wall and ceilings, the mirror work and the carvings were simply breathtaking. Our guide then took up one carving and with his practiced hand hid various parts of the carving which then revealed elephants, fishes, birds, butterflies, bees and many more animals. It was fascinating and felt like a secret document which was being deciphered for us. He then dragged us to one place which had 12 doors. These doors opened into the quarters of the 12 wives of Maharaja Man Singh. He also showed us the pavillion where Aishwarya Rai feeds Hrithik Roshan in the movie Jodha Akbar. People who had seen the movie sighed while I just 'hmmemd' at this piece of information. He then took us to see the cave where the food was prepared during this scene and then once again we were out in the sunlight. We spent some more time doing some tom-foolery with mammoth sized cauldrons places there and then once again we were off. While going back one cheeky boy gnashed his teeth at the monkeys. This angered the monkey so much that without a second thought the monkey gnashed back it's teeth right back at him. The boy was so taken aback that he ran down immediately from there. We couldn't knock off our laughing for a long time.

We were then take to a garden where wedding preparations were in full swing. Colossal ice sculptures, mouth watering dishes and dainty decorations bedecked the place. It was all certainly charming and royal. I was by now extremely feverish with hardly any energy left. A cold chill was making me feel worse. After wandering around we had a nice hot cup of coffee which infused some life into me.

Now the part that I was waiting for the most-We were then dropped off at our hotel with instructions to step down in 5 minutes flat. The shopping was about to begin. I hurried up, emptied my haversack to fill it with the shopping goodies, grabbed my cash and I was the first one down. I was flushed with feverish excitement and my legs were itching to start walking. However, we had to wait for a long time (it seemed ages to me) for the others to make their slow way downstairs. By now I had reached boiling point. We started off with our tour-manager. He kept telling us that the market was 2 km away and that we would need a bus to get there. But the buses were overflowing and so we walked and walked. People had started grumbling by then as the walk was tiring. My friend and me in our excitement didn't notice that most of our gang was lagging behind. We both were enjoying ourselves to the hilt-this was surely the best way to see the city. We saw 2 marriage processions and the grooms were really cute, we saw the old palaces now converted into 5 star hotels and all this while i could feel my temperature rising. I could feel a heady rush and I couldn't stop my feet from running. We were headed towards Hawa Mahal for our shopping trip. On reaching the gates of the city I now remember screaming for joy. I threw a caution to the winds, grabbed my friend's hand and we ran to cross the road and then we reached the first shop and exhaled deeply. Finally we could begin. I slowly let my eyes wander and saw Hawa Mahal look down at us. We were surrounded by shops selling all that we wanted, shop-keepers beckoning us towards their wares and so much of beautiful colour. It enlivened me even more. My friend and me ran in and out of shops like a storm leaving a blazing trail of astonished shopkeepers in our wake, occasionally meeting some lost friend who only disappeared minutes later. Everyone was in a a hurry to make the most of this shopping trip. I ended up with dupattas, some colourful jutis, a stole, dress material and bangles. Bargaining was the highlight-the shopkeepers would quote some silly exorbitant price and we would beat them down to peanuts all in fast motion. It was an experience of a life-time. We had never enjoyed so much. After we had amassed all that we wanted, we started to cool down a bit. I could now feel my euphoria ebbing away and I suddenly realised that I was blazing with a fever and shivering in the cold. I was now paying for my excitement which had kindled itself into fire in the past few hours. I was also sorely hungry and my head was throbbing away. The pain was all the more terrible because I didn't have anything to take my mind off it. I was now more aware since the thrill had now passed. We caught up with our HOD and some friends. Our HOD promptly packed us into a rickshaw with some orders. The rest is in a haze. But I distinctly remember bickering with my mother, pushing some food down my throat, shuddering in the cold and then witnessing a fight between my seniors in the bus. That woke me up thoroughly. While in the bus people showed their purchases to each other. and we had a jolly good time. My only regret was that, that I hadn't been able to grab some ear-rings. It had been my dearest wish to buy them but sadly this was left undone :(

Back in our rooms we had a great time comparing our goodies. After some dose of hot gossip and cough syrup I was asleep. I knew that the morning was going to be awful for me. I was sick and now I was frightened.

The Rajasthan Chronicles-Day 5 (Ajmer)

2009-12-13T00:16:00.000+05:30

This was one of the best days although the day kicked off with an awful start. We were given a choice between Ajmer and Pushkar. It had been decided to split the group-people who wished to visit the the dargah in Ajmer and the group that wished to visit Pushkar. We were not allowed to visit both places as we were short of time. To visit Pushkar, one had to go back a good 20 km while Ajmer lay on the way ahead to Jaipur. Protests and grumblings arose in plenty but the authorities were in no mood to relent. On one hand lay the famous Temple at Pushkar which is the only temple in the world dedicated to Lord Brahma and on the other the 2nd most holy site for Muslims after Mecca and the dargah of Khwaja Moinuddin Chisti-the harbinger of Islam and Sufi tradition to India. It was a tough choice to make and one boy ended up asking, "Kiska aashirwad sabse powerful hai?" I dearly wanted to visit both places but then I found myself getting up and getting set to visit the dargah. Our group unanimously agreed to visit the dargah-we are good at sticking together.

The Ajmer group totaled to around 20. We were told that if we could finish with the dargah early we stood a chance of visiting Pushkar. It was a slim chance and we more than ready to take it. We rode in a city bus to the dargah, taking in the sights of the city. But being inside a closed bus the view was pretty sad. Nothing to describe here.

The bus halted a few good kilometers away from the dargah and we had a long walk. We left our footwear in the bus since it was considered to leave footwear unattended near the dargah. And so we walked barefoot dodging the spit and cows, the pan spitool, dung, wet mud and water. Nobody minded and we felt much better for the walk. We bought a chadar since most of us wished to ask for something-the dargah has a reputation of granting people's wishes. The path leading to the dargah had the typical air of a holy town. Shopkeepers clamoured loudly asking people to buy their ware, children badgered people selling holy threads, photos, rosaries, flowers and various other offerings etc.

We expected the dargah to be heavily crowded since it was a Friday but we were surprised to find a moderate crowd there and people from all walks of life too! The Saint has a huge following and people come here from all over seeking solace and invoking his blessings.

On entering we first washed our feet and then made our way to the dargah. The dargah was teeming with people all just wishing to lay their eyes on the dargah. It was a huge push and shove process and no sooner we entered than we were pushed out by the swelling crowd. Outside a group was singing Kawalis and it created a surreal feeling then. Now I felt the sacredness of the place; watching people in a trance, some praying with a contended calmness and some praying with an intensity that seemed to radiate energy that went into creating the holy atmosphere. It was peaceful and I felt my eyes turn moist...After being there I felt that it will not matter whether my wish will be gratified or not, I was just glad to experience that feeling wash over me.

We made our way back to the bus and were informed that we can't make it to Pushkar since the other group had already left from there. A slight bitterness crept in but the after effects of the Kawalis lingered and bitterness was diluted to nothingness.

Our faithful bus was waiting for us and now we were off to the place I wanted to see the most-JAIPUR!!!!!!

The Rajasthan Chronicles-Day 4 (Desert National Park)

2009-12-11T01:10:00.002+05:30

Woke up very early in the chilling cold. We had to leave early for Desert National Park. Gulped down a quick breakfast and then we were off. We reached the Park and had to wait for an hour for permission to enter the Park. We spent time admiring one goofy camel who was very pleased to pose for us and who showed us it's horrible teeth from all directions. What a treat! It was one useless conceited camel. I guess our visit brightened it's miserable life :)

We got permission to enter just the periphery of the park. A couple of friends and me broke off from the main group. We decided to explore the park on our own. We had an excellent time spotting Variable Wheatears, Isabelline Wheatear, Green Beaeater, Lesser Grey Shrike. Rufous Tailed Lark and one bird which we think is a Bustard! At one point while I was photographing a Wheatear, the Wheatear did something stunning. It looked at us over it's back, then flew straight at us, then stopped at around 4 feet in front of us, flapped it's wings in mid-air for around 15 seconds and then flew away towards our right. It was simply amazing to look at the bird from such close quarters. We both were so astonished that neither of us could remember to capture this sight. We just gazed with our mouths hung open stupidly. But now we think that's okay. Somethings are best left committed to the photographic mind than the camera; we somehow like to remember it better this way.

While leaving we were party to another fabulous sight. A chinkara bounded out of nowhere straight towards us. When it spotted us in hovered frightfully in the grass staring at us at a distancde of 100m. We too halted in our tracks. The chinkara moved it's head from side to side-it was evident that it was unsure about what to do next. It then leaped up and bounded away towards our right still maintaining a safe distance from us. After it reached the safety of some tall grass it again stopped and stared at us, we wondered if it's heart was beating as fast as ours...

Then we had nothing much to do but travel and travel. We were now on the route to Jaipur and we were supposed to cover Pushkar and Ajmer on the way. Akaal Fossil Park seemed to have been conveniently forgotten by the tour manger. It was a dull journey and everyone popped off to sleep. I was bored and went and sat in the front with the driver. The journey took on a whole new perspective now. The driver and his partner enthusiastically pointed out various sights to me, telling me stories about villages that we were passing by. They ordered me to stay put in the front for we were now to pass a stretch where chinkaras, deer, neelgais, sambars and peacocks adorn the road on either sides. This was a treat that I surely wasn't going to miss. We passed villages with delightful names- Dudhiya, Khara, Sujasar, Bithari were just a few. Amritsar was 690 km away and the road was beautiful. This was NH-15 and I was loving every moment of it. Later we paused for a break at Pokaran and after half hour resumed the journey again. I was now joined by a couple of my friends. The drivers swore now that the promised treat lay just a few metres ahead. We rounded a bend and then we lay eyes on a huge flock of birds that I don't know-but the sight was amazing just the same. They flew all over the bus wildly flapping their wings in desperation. Next we spotted numerous lapwings, doves and chinkaras strewn all over the landscape-not too often but not too seldom either. Night was falling rapidly now, the trees formed an arch over the road and lay standing next to each other as if they were holding hands and welcoming us. One lone cyclist on he road huddled rapidly to the side when he saw the bus approaching. The trees started turning thorny and straggly when without warning a Neelgai appeared on the side of the road. It was very dark now and the Neelgai stood strangely quiet looking at us while we looked at it. It didn't move a muscle and just stood waiting for a cue. Even when the cameras flashed it didn't move and finally the driver had to make the first move of revving up the bus. The Neelgai then just turned nonchalantly and walked back into the woods. I was enjoying myself thoroughly, the wind was blowing my hair across my face and I could feel a slight chill but I didn't care. It was an incredible feeling. I knew that I would have to pay for this joy later-I fell ill terribly after this foolhardy action of mine.

We then went back and started a song singing routine in full swing. Amitabh Bachchan's songs ruled that night and it felt that the night ought to go on for ever. Half the bus joined in and we truly had an enjoyable time. I screamed so much that finally I felt my throat give away. Now I had really fallen ill. We then stopped at one stinky dhaba, had a quick dinner and were then again on our way. Reached our destination again late in the night and immediately fell onto the bed.

The Rajasthan Chronicles-Day 3 (Jaisalmer continued...)

2009-12-08T23:39:00.004+05:30

I approached the camels with some trepidation, a memory from the past had woken up and I remembered the feeling when the camel got up after we had sat on it. I actually couldn't wait to sit on a camel again. They were to take us to Sam Sand Dunes to view the sunset in the desert. I chose one camel and sat on it. One of my friends joined me and then we were off. We were thrown in the front and then the back while the camel got up and all at once numerous screams of fright and excitement filled the air as the other camels also got up. Our camel was named Sharukh Khan and the camel's handler was Khurim Khan. When the camels started walking we were still giving out screams and sometimes out of nowhere some camel would start trotting resulting in some more louder bawls from the ones on the camel while we laughed at them and then only to start hollering when our camel started doing the same.

One of our Michael Jackson crazy friend, by some providence was sitting on a camel named Michael Jackson and couldn't quit raving about it! The camel handlers were really young and seemed to be not bigger than 12-15 years age though most of them claimed to be 16-18 years. Their small size caught them out. I was soon at ease on Sharukh Khan. He was a calm fellow and maintained a steady pace and our discomfort was negligible. I was merrily clicking pictures when out of nowhere a screech drowned all the noise. A camel was trotting very fast, our Head of Department was calmly sitting in the front, talking on the phone while behind him sat a boy who was desperately waving his hands in all directions and wailing at the top of his voice. It seemed as if the boy and his voice was scattered all over the route. Withing a blink of the eye men and camel had disappeared leaving behind just a cloud of dust. It was singularly the most funniest sight that had met our eyes in the desert. I laughed till tears poured out of my eyes. Towards the last leg Sharukh Khan started a good run and our camel ride ended with satisfaction. Again while the camel knelt down, we were instructed by Khurim Khan to lean back to ease the getting down process.

After getting down we were badgered to provide bakshish by the camel handlers but we had been told previously that they had been provided with their share of cash beforehand and so not to fall prey to their money-extorting tactics. The sand dunes rose up magnificently and we started climbing one particularly steep one. All the sand entered our shoes, pulling us down but we trudged on and on reaching the summit we were rewarded with the sight of even more sand dunes in the distance. We started playing on the dunes with all of running down the steep one and then diving into the sand. Everyone was in high spirits and the gaiety was contagious. Posing for photographs, running in the sand, finding beetles, admiring their patterns in the sand, watching the ripples in the sand and the shifting sand ahh...It was the most relaxing evening. We had nothing to do but wait for the sun to set.

While we waited, a group of kids surrounded us, begging us to see them dance and sing. They would break into a impromtu song and dance routine and then demand money from us. They tried it on the people there and some were followed by their fathers carrying a tambourine and the jew's harp. The music washed over me It was sad to see the kids do this but the kids bounded about joyously from one unsuspecting tourist to another.

The sunset was one truly rewarding experience. Brilliant orange, red, yellow- my favourite colours all throwing up new hues and shades with every passing second. At one point the sun was divided into 2 parts. The upper part had shades of yellow and the lower part had shaded of orange. As the sunset a silence befell the desert as everybody stood transfixed looking at the sun. It was a rare moment and time stood still. I felt that I could sit there forever watching the sand under the stars and listen to the music that tugged the heart strings. And then the sun set but it left behind a myriad of colours right from purple, pink, red and the promise of truly a brighter and beautiful tomorrow. A song came up to my mind but only this was a tequila sunset.

While walking back to our bus I spied a thin boy wearing a superman t-shirt sitting upon a camel. I muttered something about superman not needing a camel to transport himself. my voice carried over to that superman and he swiftly flexed his muscles grinning down at me :)

Our stay for the night had been arranged in the tents a little away from the dunes. The evening came alive with camp-fire, sufi music, tiras, rajasthani dances dressed in the most wonderful colour. I felt more so alive experiencing this huge treasure trove of culture unfolding in front of our eyes. The bhavai was stunning as usual and so was dama dam mast kalandar and kesariya balama. The men wielding the tiras won everybody's hearts with their dexterity and skill and the jugalbandi between them and the dhol was captivating. A dutch lady sat next to me and she kept up a steady dance sitting and she seemed totally entranced by the music. We got talking and I learned that she was professional dancer and she was in India to explore the folk dances. She was adept at belly dancing, tango, latin american, ballet and many more dances. She nearly emptied her wallet on the musicians and dancers giving away plenty of notes. When the ghoomar begun we were pulled up to join in. Faster the beats demanded and faster we swayed to keep us the rhythm. We danced and danced and couldn't stop our feet. The fast beats made us lose all our control. Finally it was time for dinner and a rustic meal had been prepared. The traditional thali with dal bhati churma. We were so tired that we just gulped it down. Meanwhile our class singer had taken over the mike and was now regaling the audience. When she sung tujhse naaraz nahi zindagi my heart broke. It was simply beautiful.

Next we attended a meeting with the tour manager who was still expressing his reluctance to take us to Desert National Park. He was firmly put down by the teachers and the HOD showed his disapproval. the tour manger kept saying that we don't have permission to visit the park while a student said that no one can deny permission to students who want to visit the park. The student had her contacts with certain people in the park who assured her that we were welcome to visit it. We decided to visit the park inspite of the tour manger's misgivings. The cold was now starting to creep into my skin and we were shivering once again.

After the meeting we got ready to sleep but we were still in the mood for some merrymaking. Our tent was stone cold and dully lit. So, we crept up to the room occupied by the other half of our group and exchanged bits of the usual juicy gossip. Their room was more cozy than ours and within 15 minutes I could feel sleep over-powering me. We slid back into our rooms and slept by 1 a.m. It was blissful and we slept contented.

The Rajasthan Chronicles-Day 3 (Jaisalmer)

2009-12-08T00:30:00.004+05:30

Awoke within a few hours, got dressed really quickly while a couple of my friends were singing useless parodies of songs. For the first time since the trip begun our group was the first to be present for breakfast-we had fast become notorious for being the late-comers.

Breakfast was to be served up in the terrace and we sat there playing on the swing until I spotted a shop with a computer in it. I desperately needed to clear my memory card to accommodate newer pictures. I ran down to the shop with a pen drive and sent another friend to get his memory card reader. But alas! the friend had packed the memory card reader deep in his luggage which was now entrenched atop the bus. Hopes dashed I started leaving the shop when the shopkeeper produced his memory card reader and offered to transfer the pictures into the pen drive. Elated, my friends and me watched him start the transfer process only to then read a message saying that the pen drive was full. He tried repeatedly but luck wasn't on my side. I left the shop in a downcast mood and got myself some breakfast. The rest of our class had nearly finished their breakfastD. ( So much for being first to get ready :) )During breakfast inspiration struck and I realised I could transfer the pictures onto a DVD. I hurried to the shop and finally my work was done. I could once more wield my camera. Yipee!!

There seemed to be a certain amount of friction in the air that day amongst certain students. When we halted at Sonar Killa, some students refused to get down stating that they wished to visit Desert National Park. The tour manger was giving us a choice between Desert National Park and Akaal Fossil park. This was a new development of which my group was not aware of. His logic was that Sonar Killa would take all afternoon to visit so one of the 2 parks had to be scrapped while the students vehemently stated that they would prefer skipping Sonar Killa rather than missing the National Parks. It was wrong of the tour manger to give us a choice but since our group was curious about Sonar Killa we got down and made way.

Sonar Killa turned out to be a lovely experience, something that I had only read about in novels and then later had let my imagination to take me to such haunts. It was built in yellow sandstone and 1/4th of the population still resides in this Killa. It is a walled city with numerous by lanes meandering through from all directions. How I ached to run down all the lanes and explore all the shops that sold such strange and antique items. It was a place in which it would have been a grand adventure to get lost in. Mazes upon mazes, cobbled alleys, small temples, a large tree in the courtyard where the oldies sat and spoke about the daily ventures and who gazed at us with unconcealed curiosity. We were allowed to explore just one part of the fort and that too was a labyrinth of complex passageways, with innumerable steps, turns and doors. So many feet must have traipsed that path, many a queen must have walked floating in her own fairy world. She must have gazed down at her city with so much pride and now from her seat we could look down at the entire city and we spied hills rising up in the distance, windmills and rows of houses. At one spot there was a replica of the fort placed on a stone table and stone seats around it. It was like an open-air war room. I was tremendously glad to have got the opportunity to visit this place, I kept scurrying about here and there looking for newer marvels to sigh at. It was certainly one of the highlights of the tour for me.

I did some shopping in there and ended up with puppets and a bag which i did not have the heart to leave behind so pretty was it. I finally left with gnawing sensation- I was craving to explore the place thoroughly while I was also glad to have visited a place of which I, previously, would only dream of.

We went back to the hotel for lunch and then checked out. Once again we were back on the road, this time making our way to desert country-Sam Sand Dunes. After lunch everyone was sleepy and everybody's meter went down slowly one by one. Eventually just me and friend were left awake. The time passed somehow and after a couple of hours we could mark out the change in the scenery. The soil was much more arid and sandy, the vegetation sparse and scattered and air was dryer. And then the suddenly we were on a road with sand on either sides and the camels made their way in the distant. The thrill at spotting the first camels was soon replaced when they became plenty and then later seeing a caravan held no new novelty for us. After a long time we drew up and the first thing that caught my eye was a row of 15 camels sitting (which looked like squatting) with their backs to us. The sight got out a chuckle from me- these camels were to be our ride into the desert!!!

(to be continued)

The Rajasthan Chronicles-Day 2 (Jodhpur)

2009-12-06T23:55:00.003+05:30

We woke up refreshed from a good night sleep. But the biting cold had followed us to Jodhpur too. I awoke at 5 and couldn't stop my teeth from chattering like mice! After a sumptuous breakfast of parathas we set off. A day in the blue city.

Our first stop was Umaid Bhawan. It is sprawled over an area of 1 sq.km and built in Indo-Sarcenic architecture. It was built for the welfare of people during times of drought and famine. 3000 artisans toiled to make this marvelous piece of splendour in Chittar Sandstone. It houses 347 rooms and a part of it opened to the public. The rest has been converted into a hotel run by the Taj Group where the minimum entry fee is Rs 3000. The Maharaja's family still occupies a part of the palace. I was surrounded by clouds of delight when I first saw the palace. It was simply majestic and one could feel the grandeur that hung about the museum. The artifacts took me to another world where being royal and regal was the done thing. Exquisite pieces of glass bowls, vases, dinner sets in the most wondrous colours only got out squeals of excitement out of me. Dinner rooms and living rooms that had been recreated there were quite a sight. Out on the lawns 4 vintage cars had been put up on display-a Packard, Morris, Overland and a Buick. A pleasant visit to Jodhpur's royal heritage.

After lunch we checked out of our hotel and set off for Mehrangarh fort. Finally a breath-taking view of the blue city unfolded before our eyes. The houses here are painted blue to keep the temperature cool during the scorching summer heat. Merangarh fort is among the largest forts and was built in 1459. One has to pass 7 gates to reach the fort and each gate marks various battles. The haunting sound from the Ravan Harta greeted us when we entered the fort. The melancholic melody pulled a veil over my eyes and I was back again wandering in another place, another time. It tugged the heart-strings and I was mesmerised, not a muscle moved. A shout from our teacher broke the spell and I scurried over to join the group. Here at one of the gates another sight greeted me. A faster rhythm was being played and one student lost control and started dancing which was promptly taken up by the rest and then finally the whole group. Definitely enjoyed this impromptu dancing session. The guide then begun his ranter but I was least interested. I was more keen on seeing the place and eventually I ended up seeing this fort only through my camera- a clicking frenzy overcame me and I couldn't stop clicking pictures. The architecture is so intricate and the lattice work so perfect it seemed unreal. The hands that worked, carved, chipped and moulded the stone must have possessed magic to create such stunning works of art.

The fort had marvelous palenquins made out of silver on display-some shaped like animals and some with intriguing designs. An old man sat outside one of the rooms displaying how to use the hookah caught my fancy. He was continuously asked by the tourists to pose with the hookah-he seemed pleased with all the attention that was being showered on him. The curio shop in the fort seemed a costly affair but had very pretty jewellery, kurtis and stoles. While leaving the fort the Ravan Harta again beckoned and this time we spent a quarter of an hour listening to the music. But this time the man played filmy songs and I didn't find it charming.

We halted next at Jaswant Thada but didn't visit as we were running short of time. Instead the bird-watching gang ran off to the banks of a stream and exclaimed in delight over birds whose names I cannot remember. They had their eyes glue to the binoculars and shouted over some coots and moorhens. Sir had to drag us away from the spot.

We then visited one stupid garden whose name I didn't bother jotting down because it was so stupid. The vervet monkeys came bounding down when they saw us and made rude faces at us. The garden was still under construction and I found nothing worthwhile in there.

We left the garden soon and made way to a tea stall where a dugdugi was parked. The rickshaws in Jodhpur are a very narrow affair, they have the air of being squashed from all sides. We made one of our friends become the dugdugi driver and then the real dugdugi driver made an entry and he was drunk to the boot. He gave us some more interesting ideas for posing with his dugdugi.

Tonight we had to travel all through the night to Jaisalmer. The night journey was fun and our seniors related engaging stories and then kept up the tempo by relating ghost stories. We halted at Pokaran for dinner and immediately all jokes were directed towards having radio-active waste in our food. Pokaran was even more colder than Jodhpur and as we neared the desert the cold increased. We had food at Shimla Dhaba and the hot food did manage to take away the nip for a while.

Reached Jaisalmer at 2.40 in the night and swiftly put ourselves to sleep. I was worried about my camera. My memory card was full due to my clicking frenzy at Merangarh fort. I decided to deal with the problem the next day.

The Rajasthan Chronicles-Day 1( The train journey)

2009-12-05T20:30:00.004+05:30

Seems just like yesterday that I boarded the Pune-Jodhpur Express. I had marked out the train route and had finished fantasizing about the stations that the train would be halting at. Mum had warned me for what seemed like umpteen times, "Don't you go around doing a Jab We Met on the railway stations." I sulkily gave in and scanned the stations from the window.

The train journey was memorable.We didn't have confirmed seats and so 2/3 people shared 1 seat but we didn't even care. Sleeping was the last thing on our minds. We all were just glad to be together. We jabbered away with our neighbours - one old uncle and aunty with awesome child-like enthusiasm about our trip. They were terribly kind and considerate towards all our noise-making activities and cheering and the drop-ins by our friends who were scattered throughout the train.

We started the card games at 11.30 in the night and continued them well past 1 a.m. Most of the time was spent learning one eff-all game called 'Mendikot'. I couldn't for the life of me remember this game though I was nagged by the feeling that I have played this game before. I had 3 friends all giving me explanations and forcing me to listen to them and not to the other person. Really awful. Somehow after what seemed like ages I got the hang of the game and played it well :)

Then I decided to give my wanderings in the train a rest and found an empty berth to sleep on. And oh yes now I remember the biting cold brrrr. I was chilled to my bones and twisted and turned to find a warm spot on the cold berth. Gloves, socks, sweaters, sweat-shirts notwithstanding, the cold made me shiver all through the night.

At 3 a.m. I went to welcome a friend who was to board the train at Surat. It was jolly well good to see her- She had all the tasty grub with her :)

I then found another empty berth after that because the old one was occupied by one surly chap from Surat who cast an annoyed glance at us as soon as he saw us huddled together on one seat. A couple of my friends stayed awake and kept chattering all through the night. They kept up a non-stop chatter and this made the Surat man even more angry. He kept scolding my friends but they didn't seem to care. At around 5 a.m. I was rudely awakened by my friends with the flash of the camera. I joined in the giggling and by this time each and every member of our group was awake giggling and laughing.

The surly Surat man could take it no more and called us the most uneducated bunch of people and that we have studied just too much and so we were keeping up this noisy racket all through the night. I felt he was right. I wouldn't have liked it if I were disturbed when I wanted to sleep. After the mega-scolding he gave us we all promptly went off to sleep and strangely, it was the best sleep ever. We woke up refreshed and the surly Surat man thankfully left.

The rest of the journey was pleasant and was slightly marred by a classmate who tapped my friend on her head, put his finger into my ear and pulled another friend's nose and hugged him. Decided then and there that we have to stay away from this weirdo.

As we neared Jodhpur, we spotted plenty of doves, flamingoes, peafowl, spotted deer and chinkaras. It was a lovely welcome and so exciting to spot them foraging freely beside the tracks. The peacocks trotted with a charming gait and I was mesmerised. For the first time in my life I was seeing them in such huge numbers!!

We reached Jodhpur in the evening and were put up at Beniwal Palace. Dinner was a seedy restaurant called 'Ghar Angan Bhojnalay'. We were busy posing for photographs outside the restaurant and not so very nice men tried to act smart with us. Even while walking back to the hotel some men on bikes tried to upset us-but on hearing our ma'm scream they escaped. Learned that it's not safe to go wandering at night alone. North is really unsafe for girls-even in groups.

Reached the hotel and slept like a log.

Rajaon ka Sthan

2009-11-22T02:03:00.003+05:30

I've been listening to a wonderful song since the past week- Mark Knopfler's -Me and the Wanderlust. It's fitting because the wanderlust bug has bitten really hard now. Packing up my bags for a 2 week tour of Rajasthan-The land of the Kings.

Home to one of the oldest people in India-The Bhils, somewhere there is a tiger if you are lucky enough to spot one, and someplace else the desert can swallow you in as you gaze mesmerised at the sifting sand dunes, the women who really know about colour all the more because of the bare and barren landscape, where the men dress in pristine white and turbans of varied hues adorn their heads, where the palaces in all their grandeur tell stories of centuries gone by, where the killas repeat tales of glory and sing praises venerating their heroes... and then the legends of the Rajputs...

Rajasthan seems to have offer all that a traveler craves for- Romance in Udaipur, Adventure with the wild-life, tempting cuisine to tickle the taste-buds, shopping for the love of art, royalty everywhere and brazen toughness also everywhere.

On previous occasions I have thought Rajasthan to be a dull, drab and boring state with nothing in it except sand and IIT classes. Hovever, since the time I have started reading about it I have been floating at higher heights, dumb-founded at the richness it offers. So spectacular, so splendid.

Our Rajasthan expedition starts with Jodhpur-the Blue City and then Jaisalmer, Bikaner, Jaipur, Abhaneri, Bharatpur, Ranthambore, Ajmer, Pushkar and ends with Udaipur-the Venice of the East. My scrapbook is ready, my bags are packed and I just have to get on that bus.

Bidding an au revoir with Knopfler's Wanderlust :-

Big black cloud
On a yellow plain
Sure enough it
Looks like rain
Packin' up all our
Faith and trust
Me and the wanderlust

Open window
Empty bed and chair
Who's that callin'
Ain't nobody there
I look behind me
And I see there's just
Me and the wanderlust

Dead of night
I had a dream
Sky was bright yes and the
Fields were green
I was down the road
In a cloud of dust
Me and the wanderlust

And I'm on the edge
Of an endless fall
Sure enough
He's come to call
Got to go now
Get on that bus
Me and the wanderlust

Roacher Pics

2009-11-13T21:09:00.002+05:30

Click here to see Roacher and the cockroach.

P.S. It's not for the fainthearted. I couldn't eat my fish for dinner after I clicked these pictures.

Roacher the Roach Ranger!!!!

2009-11-12T19:44:00.001+05:30

Well I have one smart and hungry lizard to write about. It's the same lizard that woke me up a couple of days back from my slumber. Today it invited me for tea and snacks!!

I was trying to bang my head against my books in the evening at 4.30 when again the mysterious thudding started. It didn't occur to me that the same lizard was at play. At first I ignored the sound and tried to study but the sound persisted. I had to spring into action. I shifted the wardrobe and Roacher was at work again. (I've named the lizard Roacher) It had just caught a cockroach and this time I was prepared. I lunged for my camera and I photographed the lizard patiently eating the cockroach while the cockroach made desperate bids to escape but to no avail. The jaws of the lizard are really strong. Roacher took 45 minutes to consume the cockroach and now as I write this it is resting benignly at the side of my wardrobe.

Will upload the entire sequence of pictures tomorrow :)

Lizard's Breakfast!

2009-11-10T14:17:00.000+05:30

The morning got off to an interesting start today. I opened my eyes from deep slumber to a sound that seemed as if a bird was trapped and was fluttering it's wings in desperation in a bid to escape. I thought that I was dreaming but when the sound persisted I had to get up and play detective.

I first checked my window to make sure that no bird was trapped there. Pigeons usually visit my window as it gives them a good perch. While I was checking I felt that the sound was coming from inside my wardrobe. I thought that to be very very strange. No bird could land up inside the wardrobe. And curiously enough, the sound seemed to be emanating from way inside the wardrobe. "Ghost bird"- I muttered.

Then I heard loud thuds from the wardrobe. I really thought at this time that the bird is going to die. Then some intelligence visited me and I shifted the wardrobe a little. I was expecting to see a tiny bird there but lo! behold! what a sight awaited me!!

I was shocked and being drowsy, initially I thought it was a snake. After my eyes adjusted to the darkness this is what I made out.

A house-lizard facing vertically downwards with a cockroach halfway into it's mouth!! The lizard banged itself against the wardrobe to push the cockroach into it's mouth. The eyes of the lizard glowed eerily black and then red. I scrambled to get my camera but couldn't capture the sight. After 10 minutes the lizard turned itself vertically upwards and incessantly opened and closed it's mouth. I could see a part of the cockroach coming out and going in.

Anyways my camera started working later and I got a potshot of the lizard now digesting the cockroach.

The lizard is on the back of the wardrobe, the white part is the wall.

New Orkut Vs Old Orkut and Facebook.

2009-11-09T16:02:00.000+05:30

Well well well..Orkut finally has gone for a huge makeover. It had to do no option with even the Orkut loyalists moving to Facebook. The spice out of Orkut had fizzled out so what did Orkut do? It has re-invented itself. And it is cleverly trying to maintain an exclusivity about the new version-meaning allowing only people with invitations to access the new version. Nice aura. I personally was going loony, bleating about desperately for an invitation until a helpful friend took pity on me and sent it :)

The good points first. It's never been easy to look for your friends in the friend's list. One just needs to scroll to find the friend and the same for the communities too. One can now comment on the updates, à la Facebook. Loading hardly takes up any time now and yes it is faster and more jazzed up. And the best thing is that Orkut has left the option to revert back to the old version if need be.

The bad points- It's too too cluttered now.

The hype about the new Orkut will probably stem the flow from Orkut to Facebook but steadfast devotees of Facebook are most likely to give the new Orkut a pass. One tends to think about the old Orkut with nostalgia. It was new then, there was excitement about using it, one never knew which old friend one would meet, there was the delight of reading the scraps, the sleepless nights thinking who will scrap you next et al.

Let's see now whether revamping creates the same buzz for Orkut again.

Steve Jobs. Radical!!!!

2009-11-06T20:26:00.000+05:30

wow

Why Tunkie Sleeps So Much

2009-11-04T22:15:00.000+05:30

No I haven't yet woken up since I went to sleep what seems like aeons ago or was it just yesterday or was it an hour ago. I am not too sure about that. I tried all that I knew, but it's tough to tread the fine line between emotions and cold practicability. But gloom nostalgia seeps in like the grey swirling mist through every pore of my skin and the weight which I'm lugging around becomes much more entrenched than ever. No I don't hurt no more. I'm just numb because the iron grip becomes stronger than ever. There is a sadistic pleasure in this numbness. And I have lost all desire to wake up.

Wrote this a long time ago. And it doesn't hold true anymore!!! :) But I still sleep a lotttt!!!!!

Examination Woes

2009-11-01T19:27:00.000+05:30

After three long years I will be giving exams for a fortnight. Biotechnology was pretty chilled out about exams. Three days, 80 marks papers and we would be free. Now it's 5 papers, 50 marks each spread out over 10 days. It's a real bore. The breaks in between are the worst though this time around they seem welcome since my books still continue to be in a state of permanent rest. And I will be doing the honour of opening them only before each paper.

M.Sc has made me even more lazy. I am not sure if it is because of the horrendous number of assignments that we are besotted with or is it due to the fact that we end up doing them only a night before the submission. I wonder where the time flies. The professors made us slog by giving us a schedule of 9 to 6 and before we knew it exams were bolting towards us faster that Usain Bolt.

Tomorrow are the practical exams and I have just skimmed through reluctantly. The laziness lingers. Here's hoping that I won't have any serious repercussions tomorrow.

Things that I do and Catch 22

2009-10-20T20:47:00.000+05:30

Finally my bike is home after being through hell. It looks all shiny-shoo, it also feels good to touch. But the best part is that it actually moves now.

After refusing to budge an inch, I deposited my bike with the mechanic during these holidays. The holidays came as a curse as well as a blessing meaning I was stuck at home for a week while my bike got a makeover.

I was a model of laziness this week. I lolled around the bed all the days, watched movies all the nights and fell in love with Catch-22.

Curiously, on previous occasions when I had attempted to read the book, I couldn't get past the first 4 chapters. And all the time not a word would penetrate my thick skull. Those occasions would amount to nearly 10-12 times. This time I was determined. I had to read it after being subjected to such rave reviews by an assorted number of friends and one going so far ahead as to even offering to narrate the story. (The friend did manage to tell me the plot and what exactly is Catch-22). The book didn't appeal to me previously and I found it to be sitting on the pinnacle of ennui.

Now I find myself eating my words. The book is singularly the most brilliant book I've come across in a long time and I happily hooked. And I also wish I knew a real Yosserian. He's cute.

The real Yosserian would detest the word cute.

Sariska Tigers set up bar. Serve Cold Beer.

2009-10-19T22:19:00.000+05:30

Well well what do you know the things tigers in Sariska Reserve are up to now-a-days? Why they obviously lead a jolly good 'ol life and their preferred drink to lead a jolly good 'ol life is of course cold beer.

Three cheers to that. Seems like some people out there are

a) getting broad-minded about serving hard drinks to tigers

b) conducting some 'tiger-gone' crazy experiments on the tigers

I think what they are doing is hiding cold beer in secret and mysterious locations, hoping that their wives will not find out that they are drinking on the sly. But the willy tiger is outfoxing them. The smart tiger finds the cold beer and sets of on a jolly good roller-coaster ride.

"The Tiger prefers to hunt large deer specially sambar, chital, nilgai and omnivore COLD BEER."

Check the poster.

Link

little BOY BEGGAR

2009-10-15T20:01:00.000+05:30

Begging is to request a donation in a supplicating manner. Beggars are commonly found in public places such as street corners or public transport, where they request money, most commonly in the form of spare change.

This particular beggar that I encountered was a 7 year old, filthily attired in torn clothes, unkempt hair...the usual normal child beggar we spot everywhere. A small 4 year old child clutched his hand and kept up a continuous wail. He was obviously his brother. I had just halted at the Pulgate Signal due to the red signal. As more and more vehicles accumulated at the signal, the elder beggar child jumped into action. He half-dragged, half-pulled his brother towards the vehicles.

They hurried off to a Toyota Innova. The two men sitting inside recoiled at the sight of them. The beggars pounded on the door and window of the car, they tried to open the door and both set up a shrill cry. The man in the car unrolled the window, at least one part of the battle was won by the beggars.

The man then surreptitiously removed a coin from nowhere and fingered it in his fingers. The beggars hadn't seen this and had by that time increased the volume of their shrill. It was pounding my ears though I was with my helmet on. The man handed oven the coin to the boy and within a flash rolled over his window again.

The beggar thankfully received his coin and then stared at it for a very long time and then the scream that emanated from him surpassed all the previous screams. He now banged at the door of the car with an infuriating shriek that his kid brother was startled into silence. And then I realised the meaning of the scream. The coin which the man had handed over was a 50 paisa coin. All the boy's labour, was in the worth just 50 paisa. His tiny fists pummeled the window but the men inside did not relent. The little buy clutched the coin tightly in his hand, then opened his fist to look at it one last time and making sure that the men were looking at him he held it up and then with bitterness in his eyes he threw the coin down and then departed. The signal now turned green.

I can't yet figure out where my disgust should lie. With the men or with the beggar.

Sweety-My headche

2009-09-21T23:16:00.000+05:30

The time since I last wrote a post just whizzed by but ever so slowly. It stumbled, toddled, drawled and slept off like a soporific boring lecture. It was one never-ending but extremely agonising slumber party.

It all began when Sweets left. All of a sudden I found myself bereft of my favourite person in the world. But Sweets wasn't going to come back for a very long time.

And then the pain begun. Throbbing head, sounds in my ear, pain in the neck, shoulder, tingling in my fingers. It went on for days at a stretch. Aaaah it was horrible and yet it hasn't ceased.

Sweets attributes these pains to her absence- Conceited creature that she is; but I feel down and empty when I see her empty bed. She is my cuddly teddy-bear.

Nayan Tarse

2009-08-21T13:00:00.000+05:30

My favourite song from the movie. It blows me out.

Nayan Tarse
Nayan Tarse
Taras Na Mile
Nayan Tarse

Nayan Tarse
Nayan Tarse
Dono Se Bahe Dhaar
Nayan Tarse

Haare Yeh
Path Nihar
Nayan Tarse Tarse Tarse Re

Bisar Gaye Bisar Gaye Kitne
Bisar Gaye Bisar Gaye Kitne
Biraha Mein jal jal
Pal Woh Gaye Badal
Swaha Swaha swaha Hey Hey Hey Hey

Bisar Gaye Bisar Gaye Kitne
Bisar Gaye Bisar Gaye Kitne
Sunahre Yeh Din
Kaali Raat Mein Gaye Dhal

Raama Raama Raama Raama Re

Saawan Barse Saawan Barse
Tapish Ki Phuhaar
Sawaan Barse
Saawan Barse Saawan Barse

Chubhan De Hazaar
Sawaan Barse

Gaali Si Lage Malhaar
Sawaan Barse Barse Barse Re

Bisar Gaye Bisar Gaye Kitne
Bisar Gaye Bisar Gaye Kitne
Biraha Mein Jal Jal
Pal Woh Gaye Badal
Swaha Swaha swaha Hey Hey Hey Hey

Bisar Gaye Bisar Gaye Kitne
Bisar Gaye Bisar Gaye Kitne
Sunahre Yeh Din
Kaali Raat Mein Gaye Dhal

Raama Raama Raama Raama Re

Are you going to a Wedding?

2009-08-21T12:17:00.000+05:30

Going to weddings is one of the most toughest things to do- for me at least. It's like going to the battle without any arms and ammunition. The most dreaded things are

1) Aunties and Uncles pop over to you and ask ' Did you recognise me?' I have now decided just to grin and bob my head stupidly next time someone asks me this at a wedding. Maybe they'll get dazzled by my smile and forget their question.

2) Aunties and Uncles pop over and exclaim, "My God, how big you have become!" Well what do they expect? Am I supposed to remain 3 feet tall for the rest of my life? Babalog please try to understand, I'm a growing girl :)

3) When photographer gets set to click your picture the troublesome hair just then decides to lash up across your face and you are the only one looking like the evil witch.

4) The cameraman always ends up shooting when you are in embarrassing positions like picking your teeth, dropping food, piling your plate high with food or worse still-picking your nose. Shoot him for Goodness sake.

5) And then there are some dorks who will stare and smile at you from afar just waiting for a chance to hit on you. This is very very sleazy.

6) The restless aunties who can't seem to keep their mouths shut and will keep biting your ear off until you reciprocate in kind and then only to realise that you haven't an inkling as to who the auntie was in the 1st place. Feels undeniably goofy.

7) Having embarrassed myself with one auntie a couple of times I sincerely wished to avoid her the next time I saw her. I begged my sister out of desperation to pretend to be me. Thankfully the auntie didn't mention the incident, just greeted and passed on. Whew.

The 1st incident took place 6 years ago- Someone had called home and I had the misfortune to answer the phone. She asked to speak to my mother and I didn't bother asking the person on the phone who it was and I rudely said wrong number, mum doesn't want to speak to anyone and banged the phone down. A week later the same lady called up my mum and she turned put to be the AUNTY. What ensued was so not very good.

The 2nd incident took place 9 months ago. Auntie called asking to speak to my mother. But unfortunately for me, my mum was at her workplace. I told the auntie so. Then feeling that it would be polite on my part to make some polite conversation, I casually asked her, "How is Uncle?"

Auntie just paused for what seemed like an eternity and then heavily answered, " It's been 4 years since Uncle left this world beta." Oh shoot, I could have bitten my tongue right there and then. I apologised as sloppily as I could and kept the phone and went and fumed in my bed. How could I have asked such a question? When I told mum about this she was ready to whip me and my sister actually rolled on the floor laughing.

Now henceforth, I have decided to steer clear of this particular Auntie. It's dangerous territory.

Any ways coming back to the point-I like weddings, I love the people who are getting married, I love dressing up and going for weddings. I don't like what happens to me at weddings.

Pune Not Good

2009-08-20T14:13:00.000+05:30

The holidays have come at a very inconvenient time. University had just begun and we were finally settling in with the schedule and within 3 weeks time Swine Flu struck and vacations were declared. Pune has come to a virtual stand-still. The entire student crowd is cooped up at home. The roads were a dismal and dull look. And the handful who are brave enough to step out have the green masks tied firmly around their faces. Everyone is frightened. The kids in my apartment don't go down to play anymore- the reason being one positive case among them.

And the gloominess coupled with the water cut that the city is once again facing. The prospects don't look very bright on the cards. The rains are heavy and intermittent but there is no rainfall in the catchment areas. The water levels in the dams continue to dip dip dip. Now the PMC decides that the time is ripe to dig 350 bore-wells. That's how much the city needs.

People are storing water in tanks and now a new demon is raising it's ugly head- Dengue. The stored water is becoming a perfect place for mosquitoes to breed.

People are dying everyday, the numbers are climbing, the clock is ticking.

What is going to happen next?

La langue française

2009-08-02T22:54:00.000+05:30

Yesterday I got a chance to better my French-speaking skills. 4 students from France have joined my department for 6 months as part of an exchange program. We got talking and I made a pact with Audrey-She would help me practice La langue française if I taught her Hindi.

After our lectures got over we spent time in the canteen where a couple of them were treated with idli-sambhar. They ate it with quite some relish and le fil kept wanting to talk about cars. On returning back to our department, ma classe de française started in earnest. Audrey kept throwing les questions at me. It took me a very very long time to get used to her accent and her speed. The French are known to speak rapidly and I had to keep begging her to speak lentement. I was listening and speaking French after nearly 3 months and all les conjugaisons des verbes had taken leave from my mind and for my life I couldn't remember le mot pour 'forget'.
Later I redeemed myself by impressing Audrey by with my knowledge about l'histoire et la geographie de la France.

When it came my turn to teach Audrey Hindi, she proved quite adept at picking it up. I taught her numbers, how to bargain by saying 'Kya bhaiya, kitna mehenga hai!'. And in the meanwhile Tomas was conducting his French lesson for the boys of our class. It was a sight to watch the boys learn how to say 'Au Revoir'. He was teaching them how to pronounce 'Revoir' and in the end all the managed to say is 'Oh Rava'.

And this is what I said when Eric and Americk asked me whether I prefer German or French.
"Je pense que la launge est trés romantique et belle. Je l'aime beaucoup." They were delighted and Tomas started at the word 'romantique'. Bien sûr, il est un fil méchant!!!

Lectures in University

2009-08-02T00:09:00.000+05:30

At last a new month began today. The couple of days at University have been absolutely terrific. The lectures are getting all the more interesting with each progressing class. Having never studied Geosciences and Atmospheric Sciences, these subjects are now sharing space with Microbiology as my favourite subjects. I never dreamed that rocks could throw so much light on Earth's historical mysteries and I'm glad of this new-found fascination.

Sir makes us scratch our head with the clever questions he puts to us with a well-placed itch. We grope around with the clues and just about solve his riddle. Everybody ends us being pleased with themselves. After 3 years I am being taught like this. As one of my class-mates put it perfectly-it's akin to listening to stories by our grandparents. Most of the lecturers are aged but with bucketful youthful enthusiasm and with every passing minute I'm totally captivated and hooked.

Then another professor linked Mad Hatter in Alice in Wonderland, the hat makers, the mercury spill in Japan and thus the Minamata Disease. It was ooh-la-la worthy.

This has been the first time that I have not looked forward to the end of the lecture but the commencement of a new lecture. The eagerness grows everday.

The key event

2009-07-26T12:34:00.000+05:30

It was the 19th of July, a day before my birthday. It was a Sunday and the reason for dressing up and going out was my teacher's wedding who is now going to the US of A for her doctoral studies. Anyways, the point is that me and 3 friends were dressed up in all our finery and after the wedding I had the brilliant plan of spending some time at Sarasbaug.

While on the overbridge

We had to cross an overbridge to go to the park and I was clicking some shots of the park and the distant hill. All this while I was holding my big, huge bunch of keys in the forefinger of my left hand. While getting down the steps I took a couple of close up shots of my keys and now too I am at a loss as to what prompted this strange behaviour from me. I had no inkling about what was to shortly follow.

The 2nd shot

When we reached the park, Patra dragged us off to see the 'big' and 'huge' fishes in the stinky, dirty and muddy pond. We oohed and aahed at the site of the tadpoles, baby fish and the 'huge' fish in the pond and then marveled at the pitiable state of the pond.

I was in my element and was madly trying to capture the films on my camera and I shifted to another spot to get a better angle-right at the water's edge. Patra came next to me and at that exact moment I was trying to click 3 fishes swimming backward. She showed me something in the pond and what happened next was a nightmare. The instant I clicked the fishes, my keys just left my forefinger and splashed into the pond in front of my stunned eyes. I was speechless and I was for a minute oblivious to my friends exclaiming around me. After I found my voice I just kept muttering 'Oh Shoot!', 'I'm so dumb!', Oh crap!'. What a fix I had landed myself into! I just kept staring tat the spot hoping that somehow magically the keys would emerge out.

The fishes, my downfall

We ran to the watchman's cabin and narrated our plight to them. Those idjits turned out to be the most unhelpful bunch of slobs that I had the misfortune to meet. One had the audacity to suggest that I forget about the keys and go home, one asked me to come the next day because the person who could get down in the water hadn't come that day. One idjit, curling his lip at us, asked us to enter the water. He very well knew that doing that would be impossible given our attire. I could have clawed him. And then they asked us to ask any balloon-seller to help us with our predicament.

I found one seller who asked his friend, who just asked us about the spot where the keys fell and got into the water. The water was knee length and boy was it sickeningly dirty! His legs turned with the cake of slush. He dipped his hand into water and got out a variety of trinkets-a hair band, a bracelet, wrappers and black coloured mud. So many things but not the keys. He delved his hand again but was yet again unsuccessful. He did a third time, fourth time, fifth time and still no luck. Now I was panicking and was all set to enter the water. Patra kept telling me to shut up and to behave myself.

A big crowd had gathered by now to watch the proceedings and one man came up and told me superiorly that the minute he saw my keys fall into the water, he kept his in his pocket. He too had been dangling his keys dangerously close to the water. One little boy asked me, “ Khup bhari model cha phone hota ka?” I was aghast and I just shook my head wildly at him.

All this while the man kept hunting for the keys haplessly. Patra then said something that drove my heart stone cold and which I think will make me shudder for a long time to come- “Pranietha, just thank God that it was your keys and not the camera that slipped out of your hand.” I could do nothing but just curse at my foolish, awful habit of holding the keys in my forefinger.

The man then sent his two brothers to the watchman's cabin asking them for a metal trough to sift through the water and mud. But those idjits were reluctant to help and to our chagrin they presented the boys with a bamboo 'tokri'. The man clenched his teeth at the apathetic attitude of the watchmen.

20 minutes had elapsed since the man had got down into the pond. The water had also become turbid and we now feared that the keys might have moved away from it's original spot. My heart was clenched like a fist. The man was all set to come out but my friends begged him one last time to check near the railings. The man complied with our request and put his hand once in the water once again. Heart-throbbing we waited and then he got his hand triumphantly out of the water. The shine of the silver was unmistakable. My keys were back from the depths of murky and dark waters and the entire crowd heaved a collective sigh of relief.

The man rinsed the keys and returned them to me. After he came out of the water, I gave him a 50 rupee note and he refused to accept it. Relief mixed with exasperation, my friends were all set to knock him down. But the man turned us down and finally I told him that it was to be my birthday tomorrow and he had to accept it. He just wished me a 'Happy Birthday' and was ready to go. The crowd instead of dispersing were now looking at us with amusement. Then we tried to give the money to his brothers who also refused and they kept looking at their brother for cues. Finally the little boys could no longer contain themselves and we gave the money to them.

My mood did take an upward swing after this but I could still feel a tight fist clenched across my stomach. The loosening up took a long time and my friends helped me cheer up by pretending that we were part of some loony show. Nevertheless, the thought of the pond with those 'big' and 'huge' fishes gives me the jitters and makes me want to go hide my face into the ground like an ostrich.

Walk the Rock

2009-07-26T12:32:00.000+05:30

A walkathon had been organised by Connecting NGO 25th July to spread awareness about suicide prevention. CYDA was also participating in the walkathon and I too jumped in at the prospect of trying out something new and I truly experienced an evening worth remembering.

The walkathon started from Dastur Girls' High School (I am an ex-student of this school) and nostalgia crept up the minute I stepped inside it's premises. We took a circuitous route from the school, passing by Victory Theatre on East Street, crossing over to M.G. Road, Aurora Towers, LandMark and then back to school.

My friend and me lead the walkathon, keeping up the tempo by shouting out slogans. It was certainly a new for me to have so many people on the street stop and stare while we were walking. People came running out of shops and a huge crowd gathered outside SGS Mall while we passed by. We sure did create awareness and I do hope the message did reach people. And speaking of shouting, by the end of the walkathon I had yet again lost my voice, reminiscent of my days in Bengaluru last year when my voice had left me for a week. Now my voice has yet again become scratchy and my throat hurts as if needles are being shoved down it.

While walking by, I met an old school-mate and she was curious regarding our initiative. I explained to her about her walkathon and got a thumbs-up from her. It feels good to be part of doing something worthwhile.

After the walkathon, a rock concert had been arranged by a band named Jet Set. They put up a terrific show and I let my hair down after nearly 7 months-the last being New Year's Eve. They played killer songs and our group did some good shaking of the leg. We danced for 3 hours non-stop and by the end of it I was all set to drop down dead.

I also met my school's Principal and it was a pleasure to speak to her again after 6 years. She was glad to see me a part of the action and I was surprised to know that she is the trustee of Connecting. What a small place after all! All in all an evening well spent notwithstanding the terrible throat ache!

Rainy Walks

2009-07-22T20:40:00.000+05:30

Walking in the University campus is such a joy. It's been pouring since the last couple of days and during our break in between the lectures my classmates and me go exploring out to various departments. Armed with umbrellas, I find it very quaint walking on the water sloshed winding paths and the fresh greenery transports me into another world. At times like these I'm at a loss for words and just hum a tiny tune for my pleasure usually one of the songs which I have learnt in dance class.

Today I met my old friends again while I had gone to the bank to deposit the fees for the convocation ceremony. Gosh! Again we buzzed like bees, cracking all the same old nonsensical jokes which make sense to none but us. We had to stand in the queue for over a couple of hours but it really didn't matter. The time was yet too short for us. Then after a couple of members of our group departed, 3 of us went to the University Canteen. It's an old, gloomy, dully lit but an interesting place which serves 'Egg Sez' rice.

While sitting there I wished that it would have been so pleasant to have all my friends there with me and studying with me but they jackasses wish the same thing for me to be studying with them in their departments. It's a good thing though-at least each person likes the course that they have elected for. But I oh so do miss them so so so much :)

Algae and Bacteria

2009-07-11T00:27:00.000+05:30

I love anything to do with micro-organisms but sadly I will not be studying about them in-depth further I think but the interest remains as strong as ever.
Here is a link to something really fascinating about what these tiny things are capable of doing. Somehow made me feel very very happy. Click here

Microbes are great!

A Tribute to my friends

2009-07-10T22:42:00.000+05:30

Had such a wonderful time today. Met all my friends from the bachelor days and it now seems such a long time since we sat together in class, talked crap while much more crappy lectures were going on, got the tag of permanently being engulfed by laughing gas, being scolded by teachers for not answering questions in class, sitting together for lunch, running up and down the corridors holding our flasks and petri-plates...all seems such a long time ago.

But frankly I was standing on one leg to be done with college and at that time I never thought that I would miss my friends so much. I don't miss college because it was a sad place but my friends made each and every minute I spent there seem worth-while.

One friend would just come to college to sleep, one friend had made it her life's ambition to dress to college everyday in pink, one friend would to college just to discuss how boring it is to come to college, one friend would come just to dance and the other one would just come to fill in her daily dose of movie gossip. Fascinating people all of them-really..

And the best part is now that I realised that I can have the same kind of fun with them anywhere and anytime. Nothing has changed.

Today we 5 of us met at SGS Mall at Camp and we all just burst out talking like just as if we had never parted. Each one had such fascinating incidents to relate-talking about cute and crush worthy professors at their new colleges, weird teachers who somehow manage to forget what they are teaching and some teachers who refuse to even come for the lectures. All this talk has got me eagerly waiting for my department to begin so that even I can join in with regards to this topic.

And then inevitably whenever we meet, out topic of discussion always turns to biotechnology. Now we are all biotechnology graduates and I found the course a nonsensical farce. My friends too found it a farce but they all stand by their decision to do their masters in Biotechnology whereas I was so disillusioned by the course that I had decided a year ago to fly the coop.

I found the course a mish-mash of all tid-bits from botany, zoology, microbiology, biochemistry and molecular biology and all this was just given a fancy name of Biotechnology. I would keep questioning that if one doesn't know the basic sciences how does one propose o do Biotechnology. Because Biotechnology, ultimately is an applied field which teaches you how to extract DNA but it doesn't teach you an iota about DNA. It's truly a sad state of affairs in most of the colleges in Pune. Students are all being taken in by the glamorous sounding word and colleges are wooing them by hundreds.

And the proposal put forth by Kapil Sibal to scrap specialised courses like this for the undergraduate level really vindicated what I felt about the course. So a yay! for that.
Well I have drifted off to somewhere else from what I had begun to write about. Just had to get these things out of my system.

Guru Purnima and Dance

2009-07-07T22:36:00.000+05:30

Today I danced after 5 long and painful months. It was Guru Purnima and me and my friends had gone to meet our Guru. The surprise on ma'm was evident as she was not expecting us to come to class in the pouring rain but her face just lit up like a bulb.

Ma'm is a wonderful teacher and a friend. She laughs with us, keeps us in splits with her comical stories and she always has a ready ear to listen to all the woes of our life. She is a true epitome of patience. During our dance exams she works harder than anyone else to ensure that we do a good job. She has had a very calming and soothing effect on me and I'm truly grateful to her for that.

And then we danced. It was magical listening to the beats, trying to keep rhythm, getting the tala right. And even after 2 dances I didn't want to stop. I could feel my legs crying out in protest, I could feel my muscles ache and that awareness was blissful.

For me dancing would mean to push myself beyond my endurance. I would love it when I would get tired, when I would barely be able to walk, to hold myself upright after a hard session of dancing, to feel the sweat trickling off. It would make me feel light as if I were floating. The joy of out dancing the others and to show that my stamina was the best were my highs.

Dancing would make me feel refreshed after a tough and hectic day at college, the exercise would be invigorating, keep my stress levels low, help me concentrate better at studies and give me a good night's sleep.

I miss it so much and I can't wait to go back again now.

Monsoon-Disappearing so so soon.

2009-07-05T19:35:00.000+05:30

Oh let it rain. Oh please let it rain- That's what everybody has been wishing since the past fortnight but the Raingods don't seem to be impressed with all the wishing and hoping going around. Makes me want to caper around like Calvin, closing my eyes, hopping on the ground and pleading to make the skies open up. And all the grey clouds do is hang around in the sky tantalisingly, promising untold joys but still withholding their gift. Even the North-East has not yet received it's quota of rain this year.

It is said that the wars of this century are going to be over water. It is so awfully true. Putting up with the water tasks is making life unpleasant. We are so used to the routine, timely 24/7 water supply that if newspapers would mention about places in India parching under the heat of summer it would hardly take up an iota of my attention. Now not a day goes when we don't hear someone or the other shouting in the society for water.

Now the water comes to our society in tankers. Suppose these tankers are unable to procure anymore, how will it be to get up in the water and face the prospect of no more water. I can't even begin to think of facing such a scenario. What will the Government do to ensure that water is delivered to every household? From where will help pour in when other states are undergoing the same crisis? Is there any substitute for water? Ha! Will we just die out slowly, one by one and perish? Tick tock tick tock.
Can things like these happen? Oh no it can't happen to us, can it? Something will happen. It will rain. The dams will fill. We'll get water and normalcy will return. At least all the time, money and energy put into the yagnas should now bear fruit (rain). This is what we have to turn to in times of dire hope.

The last three years we were faced with inundations where all low bank settlements were wiped right off. Now is it drought? Why has the climate become so erratic? Is the monsoon really disappearing?

P.S.- Floods in Assam are again. Floods in China. Floods in Europe.
Will write more on this.

Sleeping and Movies

2009-07-05T03:14:00.000+05:30

It's 3.15 a.m and I'm awake. I sleep off the entire day and stay awake at night watching movies on my ipod. I just cannot manage to sleep at night and during the day I can't keep my eyes open.

Today though I spent my day watching Mr. India, a little of O Lucky, Lucky Oye which put me to sleep, Then I watched Pirates of the Carribean-The Curse of the Black Pearl and now finally I watched The Unbearable Lightness of being of which an hour is still unwatched.

These tasks don't demand any brain activity, my reading has gone for a toss. Since my exams got over my fascination with reading too ended. I think during exams reading books was a way of escape and now there is nothing to escape from. I'm bored of reading the newspapers too. The news is just not as interesting as it was when I was busy.

Now I just loll arond from bed to another, from one movie to another and oh ya, I'm also becoming very very fat.

The book, the said friend and me!

2009-07-03T00:09:00.000+05:30

CAUTION--LONG STORY AHEAD. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.

It all began when my friend asked me to lend him Linda Goodman's Sunsigns. I lent it to him gladly, thinking that he would return it within a week. This was in August 2008. Well things didn't turn out the way they were supposed to and the entire episode culminated with me turning as red as a beetroot right up to my boot!

So I met this said friend of mine at Peppinos-a joint on F.C. Road, a week after I lent him the book. However, my friend's brain is wired to be in a state of permanent absent-mindedness. He is a hopeless case and there is no cure for him. Even he knows that and agrees whole-heartedly with me. Since I expect promtness, I was anticipating the return of my book by him that day. But he plain forgot. I not quite forgave him but the I let the matter at rest and decided to take it from him next time I met him. Like I had a choice.

And so the days just kept passing and the pages flipped till the month of May 2009 and this is where the crux of the story lies. It was time for the said friend to leave Pune for his hometown. I received a number of calls from many of our common friends to meet up before he leaves. But yours truly was stuck in a whirlwind of exams to study for to fulfill the requirements of obtaining admission to a decent post graduate course. And so the ever elusive time was never on hand. I prefered staying at home and directing other friends to collect the book from him. Messages were passed, messages were exchanged and everything was set. Well no, not really.

One fine day the entire group decided to meet and I stayed put at home. The said friend was to deliver my book to another friend (1) who was to meet me the next day. And so next day dawned and my friend like Santa Claus delves into her bag dramaticaly saying, ''I have something for you."

Now I am exceedingly fond of presents and so I clap my hands only to be presented with Linda Goodman's Lovesigns. Alas for my childlike joy!! The said friend's brain didn't work right and thus was presented with the wrong book. I used some choice words on him but had to limit them owing to the fact that my mother was beside me. The day had just got worse. I promptly dialed his number but I was instead told that the subscriber was out of coverage area. What crap!

Called up another friend (2)and after exchanging pleasantries as quickly as I could, I asked her if she could somehow get in touch with the said friend and somehow wangle my book out of him. She said yes but she didn't know how she would do that as the said friend was leaving the next day and she had no means of getting in touch with him a he had very kindly quit using his phone. So the net was the only way of establishing contact with him.

Next day dawned and I met another common friend (3) online and asked her to give me directions to the said friend's accommodation. She tried but I was at a loss because the said friend stayed at a place where I have seldom ventured-Model Colony. And thus so I was armed with crude directions.

I found myself in the whereabouts of Model Colony at 12.30 p.m. No balance in my phone. I reached the BSNL Office and went round and round a couple of times. Couldn't follow the directions my friend had given me. Tried new routes but they were all in vain. Yet I was calm. Tried going in different directions and landed up in the same place thrice! Then I messaged my friend (1) asking her to call me back. I waited and cursed around for some more time. I reached some shops hoping to recharge my phone but none were available of my Service Provider. So I called up friend (3) asking her for directions again but I was successful in getting confounded again and while speaking to her friend (1) called. Friend (1) claimed to know the directions much more clearly than friend (3) as she was fortunate enough to visit the said friend at his accommodation just the day before to collect my book. She gave my a new set of directions. I revved up my bike to retrace this path now and I again landed up at the BSNL Office. Now oh boy was I panicking or not!!

I finally reached some place which I imagined to be a paying guest accommodation. This I assumed is where my said friend stays. And I even spotted a tailor's shop opposite the apartments which curiously shared my name. Taking this as a good omen I thought that I have finally reached my destination. I stopped a passing lady and asked her if this is a PG Accommodation. She said sorry (?) and that these are quarter for LIC employees. She asked me the name of the person I wanted to meet and I gave her the name and she old me that he lived in one of the bungalows on my right but right now he must be in office.(????????)

I backed out from there and started on my search yet again.

Friend (3) called me up again after 15 minutes to find out my progress. None had been made whatsoever. She volunteered to locate him online and convey my dilemma to him. It was a tiny sliver of hope. Meanwhile she sent me packing on a new set of directions. It was 1.45 p.m now. Inching towards clocking 90 minutes since I had first set out on my task. I vroomed up my bike this time with my jaw set. It had to be now or never.

Splutter splutter. To my increasing disbelief, I found myself in some shady place with not so nice looking strange men giving me even stranger looks. Oh Good Mother of God. Why oh why did I ever manage to get myself in this scrape. Really truly, I'm an awful person!

And then my phone sang. It was the said friend. Oh what joy! Rapture! Never had I been ever so glad to hear his voice. He was genuinely concerned about my antics and promptly asked me to meet him. Gladness overtook every feeling I possessed. “Where?” I asked, “do you want to meet?”
“Why the BSNL Office of course” he replied. Well at least that was one place that I knew oh so very well. He said that he would be there in 5 minutes. Swell I said and zoomed off.

Friend (1) called me up then and told me that she was successful in locating the said friend and delivering my message to him. I could have kissed her. She said that it was a stroke of luck that she had found him online. Later the said friend explained that he was helping his friends move to different locations all across Pune. "Social service?", I inquired of him. He said hesitantly," No. Not quite. I'm hoping that if I help them now they'll come and see me off at the station today evening." He he.

I reached BSNL Office and the said friend was already waiting there for me with my book. He had returned another friend's book to me and that other friend thought that the said friend had already returned his book to him. (Confused? So was I). And so I had been stuck with the wrong book and the other friend thought the has his book which he actually doesn't. Like I said my said friend is absent-minded. He had somehow managed to convince his other friend that he had returned the book to him. Story ended? Not quite.

We had a lot to speak about. The usual stuff about admissions, exams, the meanness of professors, the smartness of students et al. And thus we spake for quarter of an hour. And then it happened- A shooting loud noise started emanating from somewhere close by. It was a screeching alarm and a handful of people shot out of the BSNL Office. We thought it was a fire alarm and we looked around interestedly. The sound was deafening to the ears and we could speak no more. One man ran towards his car thinking the burglar alarm must have set off. He checked the horn, under the booth, over the booth, locked the car, unlocked it but still couldn't figure out the source of the alarm. The said friend and I pitied him and resumed our conversation at a slightly higher pitch now so that we could make ourselves be heard. And thus another 15 minutes passed. The mad guy was still going over his car and I thanked my stars that it had nothing to do with me.

Then after much time had passed, some men walking past me told me that I was leaning against my bike's horn and so I was the source of so much shrilling noise and anguish. I had left my keys in the ignition. The mad guy came running towards me and started going over my bike. And then he grinned and said, “ I thought the sound was being made by my car. But now I see that your bike was causing the sound.” I grimaced and felt the blood rush up to my face and the mad guy was so happy at not being thought mad anymore. Oh I could have hid my face anywhere, anywhere but there. And it didn't help when my said friend said that even he didn't realise that the horrible sound was coming from my bike. Soon a crowd gathered and they pointed at my bike and I was utterly shamefaced. My said friend was staring down at me nonchalantly. I wished he would have said something, done something, at least laughed. But he didn't. And after the crowd dispersed he blandly resumed his conversation. Now my heart was not set in talking and I was still mighty embarrassed. After another quarter I hurriedly waved him goodbye and a happy journey and he told me conversationally, “ Don't go leaning on your bike's horn anymore, go home safe.”

Well!

Characters-
Said Friend- Anirudh Venkat who shares my love for books.
Friend (1)- The great Anushree Kogje. I can trust her with absolutely anything in this world.
Friend (2)- Ishani Bose. Sweet and charming-as always.
Friend (3)- Mahalakshmi Ganapathy. Never fails to help and one person whom I know for sure I can rely on.

University in the Rains

2009-06-25T18:31:00.000+05:30

I can't wait to start going to University. The fresh greenery gladdens my heart. I can't wait to get wet in the University in the monsoon. Oh and to see the water drip gently off the leaves into a puddle, form tiny streams and meander off somewhere. And then following those streams to see where it continues flow or does it just play a trick on you and dives into the ground?

And then the little drenched bird's plaintive cry resonating in the ears from somewhere high up; but the eyes can't pierce through the thick growth of trees.. But oh..but oh..my eyes want to see that little bird.

Then to sit at the canteen waiting for a steaming cup of coffee and hearing the steady pitter-patter of the rains on the metal sheets. Listening to that sound tells me how heavy the rain is and from there I can see the rain fall in sheets and the wind tosses it in this direction and that..Just a white hazy mist is all around then. And then the coffee arrives and the lazy steam curls up over the coffee into nothingness.

Into The Wild

2008-09-16T21:52:00.000+05:30

A leopard died in Mysore, all thanks to the gross misconduct and negligence by citizens. The means that were used to capture it proved to be fatal for the animal.

People in their fear, sometimes hurt too badly. It's always a way of proving one's bravery.

Another leopard had died recently in Pune which had strayed in a residential area. After the post-mortem was conducted, grass was found in it's stomach. It was a hungry leopard, a starving leopard. That poor leopard in it's task of foraging for food found itself in a civilised area which then brought about it's untimely death.

Officials who are supposedly supposed to know the right method to deal with these strays are quite clearly doing an awful job. What makes one decide that animals are worthless and that it is okay if they get hurt and die?

The leopard obviously had no need to present itself in an inhabited area; but ultimately it is us who have signed it's death certificate . No reasons need to be given for that.

---- ---- ----- ---- ---- ---- ----

2008-09-15T16:05:00.000+05:30

Yet again, another blast.

Yet again, lives lost in a senseless and mindless task.

Yet again, more bereavement.
Yet again, churned grief, anguish and torment.

Yet again, more cliched political commentary.
Yet again, a day for them (the fanatics) to make merry.

Yet again, time for political parties to raise their hackles.
Yet again, time for people to cry and wither behind shackles.

Yet again, more probes.
Yet again, lost hopes.

Yet again, another day. And yet again, another blast.
Tomorrow is another day. So yet again, another blast.

LANCE-He's Back!!!

2008-09-13T21:28:00.000+05:30

I was woken up early on the 10th by my sister calling from America. I didn't answer the call as sleep seemed too inviting to wake up and talk. I gave the call a miss. I shouldn't have done that. Later after 15 minutes I logged onto the net and checked my mail. Awesome news awaited me. Lance was coming back out of his retirement to take part in the forthcoming Tour de France!!! Quelle surprise!!! My joy quickly turned into a shouting ecstacy and I muttered incorrigible rubbish at my mother who didnt even bother to make sense out of it. Sadly my sister was not online at that time and so I lost my chance to share the excitement with her.

It's true that the tournament lost it's lustre after Lance's retirement. I never saw another Tour de France after he retired. It did not seem to have excitement and the thrill that was induced just watching him lead the others in the pack. He said it himself that the pace of the Tour seemed very slow and so he is returning to jazz it up. And jazz it up, he definitely will.

So now he's the anti-cancer crusader is back at what he's doing best- screaming and swearing while rushing down the Alpines at 75mph with the American flag on his back and the star of Texas on his helmet...

RAMBLINGS

2008-08-16T11:47:00.000+05:30

11.15 a.m.
Despite having a holiday today, I had to get up early in the morning for my French class. I was absolutely in no mood to go for the class preferring to snooze under the blankets in the cold chill.
But get up I had to. An awful bug called sincerity does bite me at times. I shed the quilt and got dressed.

Class was okay as usual. No spark of brilliance comes to me in French. My French though not high-quality does not at least hover on appalling. I try hard in and out of class. But invariably I become tongue-tied in class.

I'd promised mom that I'd be home by 11 in time to greet the BSNL officials when they come home to fix our internet connection. Our connection has fast acquired the reputation of being en fant terrible. Not a days goes without which I have to listen to curses and abuses hurled at the net connection. Just when I'm arguing with a friend as to the reasons as to why Lance Armstrong is one of the greatest sportsmen the connection goes kaput. All my words are lost and I lose the argument. My friend doesn't like Lance because he is
a) cocky and
b) he's got an attitude
I like Lance because he is
a) cocky and
b) he has awesome grit.

The word grit became very important while I was reading his book. Now whenever I'm down under I can think of him and stand up to tasks that I think are difficult for me to accomplish. He could win over and over and again because he had grit. Sometimes I like to think that even I have grit though not in a measure that he possesses.

So anyways now I'm home and waiting for the officials to come home and now the net had suddenly decided to behave itself. It connected fine and easily without any sign of struggle. Maybe it wants to embarass me when the officials come home.

2.56 p.m.
Whipeee!!!! The net promptly shut down when the officials entered home. The man cracked his head for couple of hours and yet the net did not connect. He fiddled here and there, drank some tea, changed some wires and still the net refused to budge from its stubborn stance. I was glad. Then finally at half-past 1, the connection made a feeble attempt to survive. And it did. It's working fine now. I just hope that it lasts while it's good. So a whipeeeee!!! once again. My net connection is now working fine....Twoot twoot!!

Search

2008-08-15T14:49:00.000+05:30

So, I'm still on monotonous search. Monotonous because the heart is not in it. Rewinding seems comfortable, easier and more sure. Sometimes the search leads me to places that make my heart skip a beat-again and again. Just when I least expected it but feeling that I'm going to find it, feeling it at the back of my mind. It happened right now. I struck gold, not at the Olympics. Found something that's blowing off my mind.

The rain is making the picture dull and dreary and more so. The sun shines intermittently but not on me like it used to. Nevertheless, I'm much more darker than before. I'm patient. The moon will cast it's gentle white light on me.

Sunday at the Market

2008-06-09T22:37:00.000+05:30

When I was small, Sunday used to be a grand affair to which I would look forward to with great gusto. Sunday mornings with entail a visit to the 'Bhopla Chowk'- the Market Place at Pulgate also known as the Khadda Market since it is placed in a huge khadda.

It would be a thrilling start to the morning watching mom haggle with the sellers which would make me wonder whether I'll ever be able to bargain with her finnese. The most delightful part of the outing would be when the sellers would present me with a jack fruit or a grape or a cut mango piece hoping that by enticing me with these goodies I would influence mom to do the needful of stocking up her fruit basket.

I remember being dead scared of the free-willed cows that used to totter around the market place. My heart would get set in my mouth while mom would be busy. I would keep one eye on her and another on the look-out for those terrible cows.

Once mom entrusted me with the responsibility of guarding a few heavy bags while she shopped some more. She left me at a corner and left. I was frightened without her. The cows seemed stranger that day. I looked up and down for mom but she still seemed very far away. One bag had all the greens stocked up in it and this proved to be a luring factor for the cows and before I could gather my wits and move out from there, 2 cows were near me and eating away at the spinach and the fenugreek bundles. I tried to shoo them away but my efforts did not bear fruit as they looked dangerous to me. They ate away the greens and went their way and left a very sorry faced kid with an empty bag. Mom didn't tell me anything. She knew that I tried in spite of being scared.

Over the years I quit being frightened anymore. I started viewing the cows with bemusement. They still roam about freely foraging for food out of bags. I'm careful now.

Last Sunday I paid a visit to the market after a very long time. Previously I'd started dreaded accompanying mom to the market as it would eat up into my valuable time of lazing around. But this time it seemed different. It was raining heavily, the market-place was slushy mixed with mud, rotten vegetables, dung, people and the perfect market racket. It was a typical Sunday at the market. Nobody bothered or cared though. Everybody was accustomed to it. People were just set on their job on hand. I counted each and every step I took.

The mango seller gave me a piece of mango to taste. The jack-fruit seller insisted that I eat his jack-fruit. I laughed at them and then at myself. I felt nice. It's nice that these things don't change.

Food World

2008-06-07T22:11:00.000+05:30

I can't believe that eating is making me so happy. I'm packed off to class with a huge lunch box comprising of 3 tiers + 1 accompaniment tiffin box + 2 more tiffins that make up my short lunch.

The major weight of my bag is now because of these eatables that I carry. My bag became so heavy that finally it started tearing at the shoulder seams (and it being a Reebok bag). I really carry a lot.

I'm usually the 1st one to commence eating in class and the last one to finish -always. During the lecture onslaught, I'm plagued with dreamy thoughts of the yummy goodies packed in my lunch and so usually when it's time for lunch I can't wait to start eating. Since I'm a good eater; meaning I eat slowly to squeeze out all the taste out of the food and to relish it all the better I don't have any option but to be the last one to finish my food.

My love for eating always turns the conversation during lunch to food. It's all about how nice that feeling is when one is full. I, at least derive immense contentment when I realize that I'm finally stuffed with grub. It makes me very happy thanks to the various hormones released because of the chow that I've consumed. I feel at peace with everybody and then the sarcasm thrown at me by my companions seems to bounce off my full belly with relative ease.

It's getting to be very embarrassing now since my friends finish their food way before me and then they wait for me albeit in a very impatient manner clucking their tongues against their teeth indicating their increasing annoyance at my habits. Their actions dilute the happiness a bit but then ultimately who the hell cares. I'm happy and packed.

But now I'm wondering about this sudden craving for food. I've always been a great fan of ingestion but lately I seem to have taken up my standards to new and higher heights. I'm eating like never before. I tried my hand at analyzing this sudden behavioural change in me and could not pin down any good excuse.

Eating is making me very glad- so does this mean that I'm actually sad? Food is what my world seems to revolve around these days. The only good thing I believe is that at least the food doesn't stick to my body. I'm still providentially slim if not thin. But then I really wouldn't care if I add some pounds to my body. I'm eating as long as it makes my happiness more and more fat.

Sleep Fighting

2008-06-05T20:18:00.000+05:30

I'm sitting in class waiting eagerly for the lecture to draw to a finish. I feel dumb and listless, too lazy to even look at the numbers indicating time change on my phone.

Just 8 more torturous classes to attend and then...But no I won't be free of this blighting madness. College reopens the very next day. Talk about living a painful life.

I can think a number of a number of interesting things that I could have accomplished if it hadn't been for these classes which seem highly logical and relevant during the lectures but now they seem to dumb even to pen down.

My eyelids are becoming heavier and heavier, I'm fighting off the sleep as valiantly as I can, the teacher's sonorous voice becomes a soothing dull lullaby. I can't sleep right under the bloke's nose. That won't do at all. (Try as I might, I'm not punctual enough bag a seat on the safe back-benches and so I'm confined to the recesses of the 1st bench which, by default is always under the teacher's nose).

The dust from the board covers my table and so to keep myself awake I try blowing it all out on the teacher's face. This task sees me awake for 3 minutes maximum. I try nodding my head but I realize the futility of it and cease immediately. (Nodding provides a pleasant rhythm and brings on sleep faster).

The fan above my head makes a sleepy sound as it whirls in the heat. I can feel that my scalp is wet with all the sweat. I can't make sense of what the teacher is telling us. All I want is to lie spread-eagled on a bed.

Now I can't help it anymore, I just shut my eyelids for an extra-long blink. The blink turns into a wink but but but they don't turn into 40 winks. Just as I feel my head drop off on the bench I start, shudder and come back to wakefulness.

Now I'm as alert as a leopard waiting on it's hunches for it's prey to walk past. Yes I'm finally awake. The teacher ignores me but now starts talking about how sad it is too sleep in class. He/She /It knows about my struggle with the sleeping fairy.

More half hour for the lecture to get over and history repeats itself.

Moonlight Musings

2008-06-04T21:33:00.000+05:30

As usual I was wide awake during the journey when all and sundry are likely to sleep. It was 2.45 in the morning. The bus was on it’s way to Bengaluru. The wayside was cast in an unnatural glow by the moonlight. My musings were just about to begin, I could feel them soliloquizing in my head running around in circles, looking for a vent in the form of inconsequential thoughts. I quite like Rowling’s idea of thoughts having a silvery-white colour and like wind made solid and light made liquid. When I read that line I felt a melancholic sadness because I felt so deeply that one wouldn’t ever be able to see thoughts in that form ever. It still seldom fails to make me dismal and casts an unfriendly gloom over my solemn features.

I saw the moon meander it’s way across the sky back and forth though the road seemed not to twist and turn. But it never left my gaze. I travelled a bit to the past, a year to be exact. It was 2.45 in the morning but that time I was comfortably curled up with a blanket in a train on the lower-berth looking out at the moon’s reflection in the dark, still and silent waters that were barely visible but for the moon’s glow. And suddenly a mist springing up from nowhere meandering like my inconsequential thoughts, those water-side weedy marshes harbouring unfamiliar perils and the green taking on a dark grey colour, reminiscent of ghosts slithering in the light but steady and cold breeze. How I wished that I could just touch all those once, wash my hands with that eerie ghost like moon-light as the train wound it’s way through the Siliguri corridor. Sublime beauty. I consider myself to be very fortunate to experience this sanctified splendor. Yeah, I was lucky once upon a time.

I was unable to give word to those images conjured up by that night and I still believe that I fail to do justice to them. But the moon beams in the night made a few words tumble out never-mind the fact that it took it a year to do so. This journey showed me plain barren land with a few dry shrubs springing up never so often but far and wide. Though the landscape was not so distasteful, it was probably the reason for me to give word to images of a year gone by. This dreary background had seemingly strong trees near the road covered with dull grey flowers like a sheet of lace and the road seemed to journey fast. There was beauty here too.

But this treacherous heart vanishes a-plenty to rest in that unfaithful beauty. It put up a pretty show once for me and how the heart wishes again and again…

And It Rained Today

2008-06-03T18:18:00.000+05:30

I like driving in the rain. Mom said that it would rain today. Mom knew right. And the rain lashed like a fury and how! It tore the leaves down and strewed them across the roads like a carpet along with branches and flowers separated prematurely from their stalks. The water bore down across the roads like a river unleashed and tossed and turned us like flowers being blown by a very furious wind. It was just perfect. Just the thing that I was yearning for since a year.

Driving in the rain is truly enjoyable as long as I’m set with decent rainy wear, my helmet and of course my bike which sloughs on faithfully against the rain beating it from all the sides it has.

Today I had a friend along with me so the bike was heavy enough not to topple over because of the blustery weather. The balance was perfect. We screamed, we sang, we laughed and we didn’t cry. People viewed us quite accurately like two lunatics who ought to be taken up to task but we cared not.

The rain made me full and pleased with pure delight. I could laugh at the people waiting on the roads for the rain to cease all because I had my rain-jacket. But my superiority over them was only to make me feel better. I was completely drenched after all in the time that it took to halt the bike, to get the jacket out, to struggle and put the zipper on. Each second was slow and as soaked as the sea. Nevertheless, we managed and it had a curious wet charm of it’s own.

We had just filled our senses with cold-coffee with thunder rumbling over our heads warning us, hinting at us the gift it was going to present to us. The thunder joined us in our laughter. It was pretty wise.

I usually don’t look forward to the rains as it conjures up horrid images of muddy waters mixed with the all the grossest stuff on the road, sticky wet clothes, no electricity and the usual rut. However, now those images seem to have faded in the background no longer threatening me. I quite like the rains now. Though this feeling will vanish in the coming months that I’m sure of.

The last time I got wet in the rain; I cried. The time before that I was overcome with contentment along with a squiggly–wiggly feeling in the tummy and this time I guess I’m glad I got wet in the rain. Like I said, I like driving in the rain.

Yellow Flowers

2008-04-05T22:23:00.000+05:30

From where I’m standing and looking down, I’m taller than the tree. I can see the top of the tree. It’s covered with yellow flowers and they look so beautiful. I just want to scoop up all the flowers in my hand and hold it against my cheek. I can see all the branches sway when the wind blows. It sways in all the directions. The flowers seem to jingle then from pure pleasure and thrill and that’s when I feel like swaying too.

That tree seems so wise. It seems to tell me a story each time I look at it. About the thousands of flowers it has borne, the numerous birds it has sheltered among it’s boughs, the pieces of vagrant fabrics stuck too it but never too often, the leaves that have been shiny green on it and then fallen down, turned yellow and withered away into dust, the countless raindrops that have seeped and filtered through it drop by drop..

But what I’m more interested in are the flowers because they seldom fail to send me to the heights of ecstasy. They just make me so happy. My heart feels warm then. I hear the sound of cheerful bells each time they sway. They sway with so much joy. It’s as if they are yearning to kiss the wind each time it passes above it. They seem content to be their right there, on the top. The highest flower can see so much from up there.

I wonder now and then whether the tree thinks about me. Many a time I feel that the tree now welcomes me by making all the flowers on it dance with wild abandonment. It’s as if the tree derives pleasure from making me happy too.

Very soon summer will pass and the tree will turn bare with dusty brown leaves leaving only an illusion and a whispering silence that will haunt me and remind of the beautiful yellow flowers of a golden and brazen summer. The rustling will never stop echoing in my ears the promise of a more splendid yellow summer next year.

Adventure 1

2007-12-20T19:25:00.000+05:30

Returning home at 10.45 a.m from my French Class. Driving. Everything is fine with the world- well almost. Encounter a signal. Closely miss the green light. Nuts and peanuts! The world ceases being fine from this moment onwards and it's over to being not fine. Phone rings. Uh oh! Struggle to get it out of my pant pocket. After a lot of cursing and heaving I finally manage to separate the phone from it's cozy environs into my hands. After a lot of heaving and exclaiming and cursing, I finally manage to separate it from my cozy pocket into my hands. My phone blinks innocently at me. Then I realize that I'm supposed to answer it. I squirm in the sunlight to see who it is.

Sister. Uh oh! Uh oh! I hope that I haven't done anything wrong. Why is she calling me? Fearfully I answer the call. Her tone sounds pitiful. She's asking for help. Something about her bike. It's broken down. I thank God that I didn't break it down. It's okay I tell her. Bike breaking is nothing new for her bike. It just adds more experience to her bike's years. This comment doesn't go down well with her. She wants me to go help her.

Yippee!! I'm her knight in shining armour. Here's a God given opportunity to utilise my super powers and prove to her my worthiness. "Coming Sis!", I exclaim. "Just mind yourself and your bike till I come" She just cuts the phone. "Rude" I say to myself. Maybe next time I'll teach her some manners.

The signal changes to green. I hurriedly send my phone back into it's cozy pocket, kickstart my bike and zoom off. I'm a girl on a mission now. Task-Bail out sis from worhtless bike.

Ufff. Ufff. Ufff. Just when I have to zip super fast all the world wants to drive like a snail. Honk honk. Peep peep. Don't stare weirdo. Look in the front. Grrr-Move away doggie. It's not your day today. Grrr- Mad dogie. "Shoo", I tell it; "Bow-wow", it tells me. I stick my tongue out at it and again zoom away before it gets any weird idea of doing anything to me. It was apparent that it was thinking along those lines by the way it bared it's teeth at me. "Silly doggie", I mutter.

Finally I reach my sis. Even she looks like a lost doggie. "Miaow", I tell her. She tells me to shut up again. I wink at her. She looks ready to strangle me with her bare hands. I give her one last miaow along with my bike. She takes it and goes away.

Me- I hobnob to the bus-stop. I find a bus that would take me home. I find no place to sit. So I plonk myself in the middle of the bus thinking about miaow's and bow-wow's. The bus then gets stalled in the middle of a terrific kissan mixed fruit traffic jam. I decide to figure out life. While I play around with my figures, they decide to collapse. An insect pops into my head. Go away insect. Insect doesn't go. So I decide to locate the reason as to why the insect has come into my head. Search search. Not insect but wallet. Search. Urrff! Bow-wow. Miaow. Miaow. Search search. Wallet search. Search over. No wallet. What to do? What to do? Conductor coming nearer and nearer. Shoo away conductor. Conductor just stares with mild surprise. What to do? I decide to get down before I'm forcefully evicted. I get down. Peoplae stare at me. I stare back at them. Damn! Now I'm more lost than ever.

Then new insect pops into my head. My sis too must be stuck in the kissan mixed fruit traffic jam. Run run. Pant pant. Run run. Don't look people. Mind your own business. Aaah! There I spot my sis.

Hi I tell her,

I'm in need dear.

She asks no question,

Just increases my tension.

It's money that I need,

So give it to me please.

She starts her ranting

While I do the panting.

She shoves a 20 into my hand

And I come out of my trance.

I tell her bye

And she tells me that my brain's a fly.

Fly fly fly. I'm a fly. I want to fly in the sky. No my brain's a bly. It flies. I don't. Ufff.

New mission- Find bus to go back home. Search search. Difficult quest. Bus seems to have disappeared. No wait. Found it. Get into it. Feel happy. Oh shoot! Wrong bus. Get down. Get down again. Search search. I'm in tears now. Uh ho! Traffic is no longer a jam. It's jelly. It's moving. Search search. Eeeeeee. Here it is. Waiting for me. Right where I'd left it. I grin at it sheepishly. Uh oh. Uh oh. It's moving, it's moving... With an almighty cry I heave myself onto the bus. Relief floods me as I stumble but land safely. I hear people sniggering and laughing at me. Conductor hands me the ticket with a wicked knowing twinkle in his eyes. He's laughing at me.

I give him a weak grin and decide to figure out life again.

Resurrection

2007-12-17T17:44:00.000+05:30

So I'm back after a 2 year long hiatus. Decided 2 start writing once more. Words flow more easily now. Times changed, people changed and so did I. Two years is definitely a very long time. I grew up and grew down too.

Hell, I went to the moon, got drunk, lost my heart to a certain Mr.M, and I never even got it back again. A major bumper ride. Really swell. And I'm still stuck on the moon. Torn between the desire to stay and yet to come down back once again.

The moon taught me to be happy. And boy was it tough! The first lesson and the last lesson were to learn to smile and now I can't stop smiling. It makes me so content.
And how do I tell Mr. M goodbye?What if I stop laughing then? Mr. M doesn't know that others taught me to smile but he taught me to laugh.

A Letter

2006-01-20T22:47:00.000+05:30

One of my best buddies is currently studying engineering in one of the most wretched places (that is what she thinks). Yellow and brown are two colours that she hates with a lot of gusto. It’s no use reasoning with her because she is mental. Period. When she was a little girl she used to abhor the sun because of the above mentioned reason.

A letter I wrote to her in hopes of cheering her up-
“Hi Ducky,
Let’s pretend for some time that everything around you changes to yellow and you are the only brown person with huge chunky Gold ear-rings alive in the universe. The people and animals around you have yellow hair, yellow teeth, yellow saliva, yellow snort, yellow pimples… you get the idea don’t you?
(I hope I have grossed you out, ha)
Ah so, then because you are the only brown person alive, all the people decide to wage a war against you to terminate you, so that no yellow man falls for your brownie charm and then both of you produce yellow brown hybrids(kids). That would be a catastrophe for the yellow people the yellow people don’t want that happening, coz you are somebody who would make their race impure.
But… you are the most slickest brownie alive. (this is because you have survived up till now). You don’t want to die coz it is your duty to populate the yellow earth with yellow brown hybrids coz it is the only way that you can achieve ‘Brown Nirvana’ and the Brown Gods would elevate you to the position of ‘SUPREME BROWNIE OF YELLOW BROWN HYBRID RACE’.
Now power means everything to you and you won’t stop at anything to meet your goals.
So now you have survived so many upheavals, what do you do?
Simple, you do yellow meditation! And by the powers granted to you, you temporarily turn yourself into a yellow being. You embrace the yellow people and tell them that you are actually one of them.( But only I can see through your plans, you slimy brownie).
Anyways, the yellows welcome you top their fold and you become one of them.
AND THEN----------
You start producing yellow brown hybrids.
The yellows now realize that you are actually an imposter, so they all come running behind you with yellow swords. But the Brown Gods realize that you are in danger and at that moment the yellow heavens open up and you rise upwards in a swirl of yellow dust.
And thus, you meet your goals and become
‘SUPREME BROWNIE OF YELLOW BROWN HYBRIDS’
You now achieve ‘Brown Nirvana’ and thus live in a bliss of yellow and brown, governing your yellow brown hybrids.
Thus your ultimate yellow brown fantasy got fulfilled.
OK now you can stop pretending that you are brown and the rest of the world is yellow. Instead you can pretend that sunflowers are growing out of your hair. He, he.”

I think my friend is going to hate me for the rest of my life.

It's All About Hmmm's

2005-12-06T13:27:00.000+05:30

Most of my friends are in their first year of engineering. Everything is totally new to them and surprisingly even for me! It is so difficult to stop them when they start talking about their puffed up miseries and blown up tragedies! They bore my butt off. Nevertheless, I’m expected to sympathise with them because I’m their friend. It’s excruciatingly painful man, really tough.
A sample conversation goes on something like this: -

Me-How u doing man?

Them-Don’t ask yaar, life sucks big time man. Sorry man I couldn’t call you but I’ve been so damn occupied with my work.

Me- yeah?

Them –ya, you won’t believe it yaar. They (the teachers) have all lost it yaar, they are squeezing the hell out of us man. They’re driving us up the wall with their sick test and stupid submissions and the good old bloody assignments.

Me-Hmmm….

Them-And you know I’ve got 5 tests in the upcoming week and so many submissions. When do I complete them all? I’ll have to bunk some lecture to finish them. And then if I bunk some lecture, there is the never-ending problem of attendance.

Me-Hmmm…..

Them- It’s just all crap man. And the exams yaar, I don’t know a single thing. Each chapter is nearly 70 to 80 pages long. How do I do it all? There are 5 papers man. This Graphics is so tough man. The only bright spot is that it’s not there for the first- semester exams. That’s really a relief.

Me- Hmmm…

Them- Ya. And arrey I forgot to tell you only yaar. This teacher is there na and I don’t know what he’s got against me yaar. I couldn’t complete one submission on time so I went later to give it to him and then he just blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah…. I was nearly in tears and then you know blah blah blah blah blah blah blah………..
(I’ve gone to sleep by this time)

The blahs continue all the same. I chance to get up suddenly to still find them blahing their way to glory or maybe to blah-blah land. I get back to my stupor, praying for some respite. And then suddenly there is silence at the other end.

Them-Hello. Are you listening?

I rescue myself just it time

Me- Ya ya. You go ahead man. That really must have upset you yaar. It’s okay man.
Them-Ya man it was utterly the most miserable time of my life and so as I was saying blah blah blah blah (pant) blah blah blah blah blah blah blah (pant pant) blah blah blah.
The panting and the wheezing and the gasping for air are the funniest part. However, sadly for me none of them believe me when I tell them that they do it. (The wretches)

So anyways, I’ve got myself a mind- numbing job to do for 4 years. It’s easy now talking in monosyllables. Come to think of it, it’s just saying the hmmm’s in the right place at the right time. I’m a good listener you know.

It's All About Hmmm's

2005-12-04T23:37:00.000+05:30

Most of my friends are in their first year of engineering. Everything is totally new to them and surprisingly even for me! It is so difficult to stop them when they start talking about their puffed up miseries and blown up tragedies! They bore my butt off. Nevertheless, I’m expected to sympathise with them because I’m their friend. It’s excruciatingly painful man, really tough.
A sample conversation goes on something like this: -

Me-How u doing man?
Them-Don’t ask yaar, life sucks big time man. Sorry man I couldn’t call you but I’ve been so damn occupied with my work.
Me- yeah?
Them –ya, you won’t believe it yaar. They (the teachers) have all lost it yaar, they are squeezing the hell out of us man. They’re driving us up the wall with their sick test and stupid submissions and the good old bloody assignments.
Me-Hmmm….
Them-And you know I’ve got 5 tests in the upcoming week and so many submissions. When do I complete them all? I’ll have to bunk some lecture to finish them. And then if I bunk some lecture, there is the never-ending problem of attendance.
Me-Hmmm…..
Them- It’s just all crap man. And the exams yaar, I don’t know a single thing. Each chapter is nearly 70 to 80 pages long. How do I do it all? There are 5 papers man. This Graphics is so tough man. The only bright spot is that it’s not there for the first- semester exams. That’s really a relief.
Me- Hmmm…
Them- Ya. And arrey I forgot to tell you only yaar. This teacher is there na and I don’t know what he’s got against me yaar. I couldn’t complete one submission on time so I went later to give it to him and then he just blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah…. I was nearly in tears and then you know blah blah blah blah blah blah blah………..
(I’ve gone to sleep by this time)
The blahs continue all the same. I chance to get up suddenly to still find them blahing their way to glory or maybe to blah-blah land. I get back to my stupor, praying for some respite. And then suddenly there is silence at the other end
Them-Hello. Are you listening?
I rescue myself just it time
Me- Ya ya. You go ahead man. That really must have upset you yaar. It’s okay man.
Them-Ya man it was utterly the most miserable time of my life and so as I was saying blah blah blah blah (pant) blah blah blah blah blah blah blah (pant pant) blah blah blah.
The panting and the wheezing and the gasping for air are the funniest part. However, sadly for me none of them believe me when I tell them that they do it. (The wretches)
So anyways, I’ve got myself a mind- numbing job to do for 4 years. It’s easy now talking in monosyllables. Come to think of it, it’s just saying the hmmm’s in the right place at the right time. I’m a good listener you know.

I'm new

2005-11-26T00:03:00.000+05:30

Uh oh, i'm not quite sure about where i've landed. After breaking down the hurdles and going through the obstacles(the days it took to create this) whew! Man, i hope the effort is worth it!