When Malayalam had a meaning

It takes only moments for a person to vanish into the realm called ‘memory’ and the parting of Mr. Murali was exactly that disappearing act for thousands of his students across the globe….It was a loss of that familiarity..that little smile that inadvertently crosses you when you think of the teacher that was Mr. Murali…that hope that one day you would bump into him and greet him with his characteristic ‘namaskaram’! And that loss is difficult to come to terms with…

What started as a mere ‘getaway’ from the grueling Hindi lessons, our Malayalam lessons were much more than the ‘second language’ that Malayalam was meant to be…  He brought that earthy flavor and raw humour into our Malayalam lessons…and before we realized it, he was the face of Malayalam to us, the beginning of our tryst with the mother tongue…. Without the trappings of any artificial histrionics and flamboyance, he charmed his students with the simplicity and humor that so became him. And even today, as I stumble and fumble at ‘difficult to chew’ Malayalam words, I imagine his little sarcastic and yet gentle rebuke somewhere flashing by…For the ‘Kerala away’ generation, he was truly our link with the language and a reason to be rooted to the language.

It’s an irony that language falls short of emotions as I pay tribute to a language teacher…. The loss is almost total but as a solace I guess he will remain in our hearts as the synonym of Malayalam ..pardon me “Paryayam” to be more linguistically correct!

When idols and ideologies crack

When idols crack, ideologies vapourize and when corruption becomes a way of life…a county reaches its rock bottom..! Whatever happened to the good old words like integrity and transparency??

Every day, skeletons tumble out in dozens from closets of the elite, the powerful ..regardless of whether you are in power, whether you are opposition or whether you are simply a ‘private’ citizen (who ever coined the term?)! And when the quantification terms come to light every man and woman tries to imagine the amount of money we are talking about…you and me may never see even fraction of such an amount over three generations! And we are talking about this money siphoned out without a trace..the ultimate vanishing act!! Now that the numbers and deals are slowly and steadily trickling into daylight, what happens next?? Just another charade like the million charades that came, stayed and finally went….as methodical and systematic as that?? Or do we see the most elusive word – action?? Can we convict one crook in this country?

And just when we thought the media was finally doing what it does best – rip apart the ‘unreachable’ and expose the ‘unthinkable’ the final straw also unravels itself..the men who print and relay these dealings are also deep in the murky mud of corruption..and that just slammed on the Indian citizen’s face the final hammering…it was a country’s way of saying..we have hit our all time low and there is probably no escape route…when a citizen doubts the words in his daily newspaper or TV show, that for me is the abysmal bottom ! We can claw ourselves out of slow growth…we may pray for better employment..we can even be optimistic about a no poverty India…..but in one master stroke the word ‘hope’ and ‘future’ has been burnt into a hallucination!

The VIDAS touch

If you were schooled at ISG, the term ‘VIDAS’ would almost encompass  the fun and glory of the yester school years…I cannot carve out the entity called VIDAS from my school memories…The phenomenon called Mr and Mrs Vida is probably what brought out the scholastic, creative and fun side of my school life..a teacher couple who literally shaped and moulded the destiny and character of many an ISGian…

Its probably life’s most cruel irony that your fondest and dearest memories flood your mind when you lose a dearest one…today is that ill fated day when those good old school day ‘uniformed’ memories burn every student touched by Mr. Vida and I am no exception! For me English and Math takes a beautiful and colourful shade thanks to its brush with Mr. Vida over the years….The  impeccable handwriting, special chalk sticks, fun filled lessons, cozy coffee conversations at home, fun filled battles with trigonometry and geometry , numerous drama days……….oven fresh memories that sting, pain and yet bring out the happy side of the years past….!!!

What would ISG have been if not for this teacher? Its almost like he was a synonym for the fun that filled my school days and I cannot think of ISG in isolation…and to think that our tryst with Mr Vida is over today..a ‘full stop reality’ that bites and kills you.. only left with countless blessed memories with him..memories to relive… memories to journey through life!

Home coming of Malayalam cinema

A string of new age, mint fresh Malayalam movies brings back my belief and conviction in meaningful movie…a term that was almost endangered of being classified as an ‘oxymoron’ over the past few years. Being the hard-core eighties born phenomenon, childhood and adolescence were equally divided between the stimulating Malayalam movies of 80’s and a fair share of Hollywood movies. And come 90’s and early 2000’s, that favouritism and conviction in Malayalam movies slowly declined and finally vanished. It was almost an era where the movie makers literally went on a disastrous adventure..starting to mimic the gimmicks of the garish, colourful Tamil movies..stumbling and finally ending miserably trying to infuse the Bollywood song, action and dance formula into Malayalam movies.   They almost lost touch with the ‘soul’ and heartbeat of Malayalam movie making…finally trampling and crushing its USP under the guise of ‘super star’ blockbusters… There was a surge in ‘masala’ movies (a term almost alien to Malayalam moviegoers)..almost a trend and belief that a song, fight and dance from the ‘immortal’ superstars would keep the audience stimulated and happy..unique stories, witty dialogues, enchanting camera angles all took backseat in this race for Masala filmdom!

A look back at the 80’s and one cannot help but pride and praise the geniuses that gave us movies that broke all ‘conventions’..contemporary stories beyond their age and era..stories that even today may sound ‘futuristic’..dialogues that probably can tickle my funny bone despite hearing it a million times. When the entire industry was saluting dramatic performances, Malayalam movies stood its ground with ‘realistic’ subtle performances. The large churn of today’s Bollywood remakes of 80’s Malayalam movies can be taken as an insult or a tribute to the intellectual supremacy of these movies...The haunting brilliance that lived through those numerous characters …it remains in my Mal heart as vintage charm..difficult to erase and impossible to recreate..

Just when we thought the war was lost, a breed of movie makers almost woke up from their slumber to give us an array of scintillating Malayalam movies…so reminiscent of its glorious past.! Stories that broke the ‘boy meets girl’ moulds..scripts that kept the audience hooked till the end…performances (and not actors) that ruled the movies..new faces, experimental themes, crisp ‘no-nonsense’ scenes..it was a journey away from the stereotypes and clichés of moviemaking…there was no reliance on big stars and raunchy item numbers to make it to the ‘blockbbuster’ race! Its success rode on a simple story..just well told and well crafted! It raced into the audiences’ hearts without the trappings of ‘exotic locations’ and ‘larger than life’ characters! Home coming in the truest sense for Malayalam movies..finally back to where it belongs…close to the Mal heart and soul!

Europe a little bit more....

I never imagined a third visit to Holland and was even more surprised at my fresh surge of energy and excitement during my exploratory routes through Holland….I was as excited as the school girl that landed in Schipol airport years back…..But this time I took a myriad of other routes that took me to some more fascinating and interesting spots in Holland…..The customary start to the tour was from the ever famous Amsterdam…Amsterdam looks different on a bright summer afternoon…..bustling with tourists…..Euro Cup spraying its bright orange Dutch colours at the streets ….I couldn’t but help feel a spring and a jump in my steps as I toured through the town square and explored the shopping districts of the city….the day was rounded off with a soothing canal ride through the waters and magnificent mansions of the city….

I was then routed into the heavenly little stretch called Dalfsen…..a river gurgling by the side, wide green pastures,  Danish cows, sheep, mules and ponies dotting the rural green carpets that stretches into the horizons….almost like a fairytale land..hay stacks and farm houses…so Enid Blyton…so enchanting!!An evening escapade into the rural landscape brought me face to face with a two hundred year old windmill…..and that was ‘the’ Holland moment for me….the rickety but towering windmill slowly swayed its blades and the tall green grass behind seemed to oscillate in harmony with the wind and the ‘mill’ …a visual orchestra that I can probably never forget for the rest of my life! The landscape charmed me to such an extent that I actually enquired for property rates in the neighbourhood!!

The next destination was Delft town in Holland, famous for its blue pottery…serene white ceramic structures beautifully ornate with the unique Holland blue…I admired the town square and quaint little buildings and churches as I dug greedily into a Danish apple pie….the pie crumbling in my mouth deliciously as I took in the breathtaking view of the little town. My tour took me next to the administrative capital of Holland – the Hague…beautiful palatial government buildings...cobbled streets…the flags of the United Nations proudly fluttering and colouring its streets…!The final destination was Madurodam….a little miniature Holland housed in a small fairyland….a snapshot of Holland spreads wide ahead of you….typical Dutch houses, windmills, the Schipol airport with little aircrafts hovering, shipyards….almost like a Lilliput land…you can actually sit on Dutch houses, hug the Heineken brewery, touch a KLM flight in motion….all your child fantasies come alive in this land where you turn Gulliver for a few magical moments!

A trip to a Dutch market rounded off the tour de la Holland…..the market is light years away from the smelly, dirty markets of India….a potpourri of beautiful flowers, strange colourful fruits and vegetables, jackets, shoes, cheese beautifully arranged …it tempts and beckons the tourist to walk into its midst and take home little treasures of Holland back home and I for one definitely accepted that warm greeting and brought back some of my favourite things back home…..a memory of the bright summers in Holland….!

For the first time, I was excited to leave that magical land as I was heading towards PARIS…a destination that frequently visited my dreams and fantasies….from adolescence through adulthood…and I am glad to say that the city matched and exceeded my visions called PARIS…!!Although I brushed through Paris a few months back, this time I truly explored and literally backpacked through the ‘rues’ de paris!!

As if by rule, I landed under the grand Eiffel tower on day 1, staring in awe at the gigantic steel structure that towered above me…this time I went up above to the summit as the rain poured over the tower….. the view from the top was just ‘wow’…..clouds floating under you… symmetrical artistic Paris city in all its splendor below the clouds..Mr Eiffel definitely knew the how and the where of tower building almost hundred years back! The next summer day in Paris was the longest tourist day I have experienced in my life….with the sun shining bright till ten pm in the night….I started my ‘mouth gaping’ and yet physically enduring walk from the Louvre museum….. the famed and serene lady (subject to the conclusions in Da Vinci Code) rests peacefully awaiting the ocean of visitors that throng the palace converted museum.. to steal a glance of the Mona Lisa! I too rushed through the crowd to catch a glimpse and was quite astonished to see a small little portrait hung on a gigantic wall….she sits in a composed mysterious posture with no other portraits for company…but Louvre is much beyond Da Vinci’s lady….vintage paintings, splendorous sculptures aesthetically arranged against the beautiful white marble……even without the eye of a connoisseur, I was mesmerized and had to forcefully tear myself away from the museum due to paucity of time…But given a choice I would have easily lost myself in the era gone by through the paintings and sculptures … a true reflection of the period past! The joy of walking around Paris was equally matched with the adventure of figuring out the Paris metro with my little map, hopping between stations, finding the right ‘line’….was quite a little treasure hunt that I loved playing….Notre Dame cathedral next opened its ancient carved doors and invited me in , a soft hymn haunting in the background and the beautiful stained glass ceilings and windows offered that complete spiritual tourist experience….After that soothing therapy, I hopped into a river cruise and the wide and romantic Seine flowed and took me to the elite Champs Elysees avenue……if ever there was a question on what’s chic and hep……the answer would be found on Champs Elysees avenue….the subtle brands, picturesque cafes and the truly glamorous Parisians….was just like Vogue caught in a moving celluloid…..!The end was at the Arc de Triomphe..an imposing structure that sort of is the heart of the Parisian city! The night (with the sun shining bright) took me to the famed Lido performance…..a spectacle of colours, feathers, music, glamour and near naked women…..I gulped down the performance with a glass of champagne and returned to my hotel exhilarated and exhausted in equal measure!

The most dreaded ‘last day’ syndrome was attempted to be shot down as I packed off to the historic Versailles palace…’Chateau de Versailles’ is a super imposing structure and as ornate and as opulent as luxury can ever be imagined …the colourful ceilings, glass corridors, marble chambers whisper the heard and read tales of Marie Antoinnete and Louis XIV..of renaissance, of the French revolution…..But what overwhelmed me was the vast expanse of gardens, flowers and trees that stretch beyond the palace…..i’ts a sheer visual extravaganza that leaves you speechless…As I strolled down the beautiful gardens with the piano playing in the background, I almost relived my Jane Austen  fantasies at the palace gardens….After an exhausting walk, I returned unwillingly to Paris and to my last destination – Sacre Coeur ……an ancient church perched on the top of a hill..after a relaxing bite at a Parisian café, I lounged myself at the steps of the church as I saw the Parisian skyline shimmering and  before I knew it ….. slowly blurring from reality into my memory…my last evening in Paris had ended!

The Moral Police

I don’t understand the obsession with moral policing in this country. We love to portray ourselves as the custodian of our long forgotten tradition and heritage. The heights of such a utopian thought was the shredding and postponement and final cancellation of the screening of the Dirty Picture...all for what? for preserving the Indian tradition amongst our youth…I do not deny that this is no children’s’ movie by any stretch of imagination but there have been many more of skin-flashing, ‘tabooed’ movies doing the rounds in our living rooms in the past and present….and if anything our tech-savvy new generation is not restrained by the holds of a TV remote and there is a whole new web world – uncensored and waiting to be explored……………..I am by no means propagating obscenity and vulgarity as wholesome entertainment for our tiny tots but what I am also not able to fathom is the hypocrisy of these self-proclaimed morality goons.

One round of channel surfing and flip flopping between shows will tell us the range of our entertainment radius and I would love to explore and figure out the worth and contribution of these myriad of shows in leading our youth on the so called righteous path …it starts from one side with the glycerine coated ‘saas-bahu’ serials which I cannot credit with any essence or subject worth watching or learning…..it slightly modifies itself into equally dramatic and tear ridden reality shows….where I see less talent and more drama as the shows move into seasons in leaps and bounds…and where you are not sure of what talent you possess, you may choose to watch the great Indian ragging show..or Roadies in other words…it’s definitely a quick round up on the latest cuss and swear words and all other things ‘yo’..! And the last on that surfing list has to be the Splitsvilla..I cannot but wonder how many morality goons would love their kids grow up watching this scandalous show..

And if we discount these shows and take a slight diversion from these shows into the Bollywood world.. to understand the depth and ‘direction’ that a Bollywood movie would give to the children in our homes…the Jack and Jill of yester years has been replaced with the sheela, anarkali and munnis of today…these can be loosely termed as nursery rhymes and anthems of our generation? The little tiny tots around us are shaking their hips and pouting their lips a la item number and not one of these moral goons have a problem with that??

This is the round up of our entertainment world that we are trying to protect from erosion? Our kids are exposed to the big black ugly world through umpteen channels and a movie will neither feed nor eradicate our kids’ tryst with Indian heritage…There is a web (quite literally) spun around us and we are definitely missing the larger picture…Firstly what is morality in today’s world? Who defines and erases these thresholds? What is moral for you may not be for me? What was moral yesterday may not be moral today? Where do you start the ‘tolerance limit’ and where do you mark the ‘end’ beyond which immorality commences?  Questions that loom large and can a head or two make the definitions, find the answers, the root cause, make a judgment and enforce it by hook or crook?

A place like none

There are beautiful places, there are more beautiful places , there are most beautiful places and then there’s Leh…and that’s where the superlative ends!! Trying to capture the mystic and raw beauty of Kashmir and the Himalayas is one Herculean task and I am left with no choice but to start on the ‘you have to see it to believe it’ note…

This escapade started on a high, hot and dry note in Delhi…Delhi as always took me to its midst like an old friend….a familiarity that almost brushed me as I roamed through Delhi ..the patriotic ramparts of ‘red fort’ greeted me that hot afternoon and the red glistened and shone under the cruel Delhi summer sun…dehydrated and waterless , I prodded on in awe of the architectural wonder that lay before me…a bumpy rikshaw ride then took me into the heart of Chandni Chowk and its famed streets ..you cannot help but be a foodie as the aroma of ‘parathas’ wafts through the ‘gallis’ of the chowk…nothing to beat street food and the hustle bustle of the tradition that is Chandni Chowk…the trip was finally rounded off with a salute and bow at the glittering India Gate…a truly proud monument that stands tall and proud in the heart of the country!

The next morning, we were taken on a magical ride through a heavenly white of clouds and snow capped mountains and we swooped down to the little air strip at Leh and that first ‘face to face’ view of the mountains still gives me goose bumps…..

Leh is probably the closest synonym to the terms heaven and paradise put together ….it’s your one on one with nature…just you and god’s classiest creations…..majestic mountains………the Indus river….a palate of plains, steeps , troughs and pebbles in colours that are unseen…almost unreal…..no eye souring concrete structures in between..no teeming humanity jostling for air….just unadulterated oxygen , water, earth and skies.. this surely must have been the creator’s  ‘show stopper’!

Two days were spent exploring the monasteries and palaces of little Leh… simple and elegant structures perched on top of lofty pinnacles….the  hum of Budhist chants and the sound of breezy winds and a few silent moments at the top can transform you into a spiritual being…

Our next ride was to the picturesque Pangong lake and that journey and destination would probably be a moment that would be difficult to repeat and surpass in a lifetime…………it was an uphill ride from Leh town through a terrain like none …the hills got steeper…the colours became more vibrant…the snow became thicker…higher higher we rose….almost as if we left behind humanity and civilization in search of a holy grail…and it was a truly a treasure worth waiting for….and the end of that colourful maginificent ride…there stood our treasure…..a gigantic water body…..blue from one side…indigo as we go closer…..a shade of green when the sun’s rays teased the waters….a beautiful silver when it dawned and I can probably continue to describe that little piece of paradise forever………….something like a lifetime moment…that moment when you say a silent prayer that you were alive to see the sight and all the world’s material possessions cannot come any close to that simple pleasure!

We rounded off our trip with a cozy tea at a Ladakhi home and shopping at the Leh bazaar….Two content souls boarded the flight to Srinagar but a ‘filmy’ break and ‘burst engines’ show grounded our flight ( ‘averted a disaster’ as the papers said the next morning)..after a long and painful and ‘thankful’ wait, we finally landed at Srinagar alive……!

A beautiful shikara ride on Dal lake was the dream start to our next leg….The ride was as extraordinary as told and retold by people before us….but what was equally amazing was an entire business kingdom that stays afloat over the waters………..a pot of tea comes from one side….a flower man rows from the other….an entire arcade of dry fruits, pashmina shawls and all things beautiful, exotic and Kashmiri is up for grabs in that floating market….!

The next day took us on a panoramic ride into India’s very own  ‘Switzerland’ …Gulmarg…. white mountains beautifully bordered with coniferous trees and laced with spring flowers…almost like a page out of ‘enchanted kingdom’…the cable ride and a steaming hot chocolate overlooking the mountains was the ‘picture perfect’ end to that bewitching journey ….

Just as we thought we had seen it all…..Kashmir threw its next gem at us…Pahalgam………….our first rafting experience was the freezing and thrilling start in that little fairy land….another fascinating drive through a valley of flowers, ice and trees took us to Chandanwari……….a mountain of snow where I finally shed my ‘middle class’ obsession with Switzerland……………….I bounced and crushed snow under my boots…..screamed and sleighed down a slope…..and that white afternoon, I finally satiated my never ending love for snow………….!

Our tryst with mountains, valleys, rivers and snow drew to a symbolic end with a night in a house boat on Dal Lake…as the sun slowly peeped out of the mountains  and our morning tea was being downed.. the reality called ‘end’ broke on us…… the snowy and misty sights in front of us slowly melted away ………..we snapped out of that hypnotic experience  to land in our urban civilization………..the claustrophobic catastrophic jungle that we have created for ourselves…. I looked up in vain to see a tiny speck of the night sky and a menacing array of neon lights stared back at me in disdain! I was truly back to civilization!

Hanging up my boots

Half a decade of familiarity with a workplace is difficult to snap with an unassuming letter called resignation! Resign from what? Your long hours of toil for a cause called career? Your path that was drawn through the ladder till the end?  Your relationship with the faces that smile and heads that acknowledge you each day?

Over the years, the ‘lines of work experience’ that adds to your resume also inadvertently seeps into our friendships, your habits and your outlook in general. Terming that basket of experiences as a job would be undermining its overarching influence…That three letter word called ‘job’ walks with you over calls and mails through dawn and dusk…sometimes asserts itself in your personal decisions….and in extreme cases takes one-sided arbitrary decisions without hearing the little voices emitted from the corner of your mind!

But I guess every person has a ‘limen’……… beyond which all the p’s of corporate world -  power, promotion, perks  do not matter and what matters is the capital P that evades your professional existence – the magical P word of PEACE!

Peace takes different meanings at different points in time……it’s a frame of mind that defines and crystallizes within you and when that music hits the right note………all the voices around you …of career, of money, of opportunities vanish into muted silence……. where your business suit no longer protects you from the cold biting accusations of the heart…where your corporate make-up starts giving way to the lasting black circles of long hours….Suddenly sunshine and simple meals at home take over your decision-making…

But years in a floating ‘on the wheels job’ is difficult to bid farewell to……….a relationship with the ‘float’ and the ‘churn’ difficult to snap out….but sometimes the head follows the heart and as the cliché goes…some things in life just fall into place??

Two movies and a headache

I had the misfortune of watching two movies back to back which almost belonged to two different hemispheres of creativity, intelligence and sheer ‘masterpiece moviemaking’ (a word that can be rarely uttered when you walk out of after a Bollywood movie).

The first one brought my faith back in cinema that thrills and entertains you simultaneously... the other brought me closer to the ‘mindless IQ less’ audience that we have been reduced to by the Bollywood flick-makers!

Kahani is a tribute to all facets of moviemaking ! Be its camera shots that completely absorbed the beauty of Kolkota and then dissipated the spirit of that city across the big multiplex screen! Its story is sheer thrill and suspense rolled into a neat bundle and drags the audience through the entire journey from start to finish! And as for the actors, each one nudges each other till the finishing line with their performances and no jury can make a decision in unison....but in all fairness Vidya Balan’s performance is muted and yet brilliant...no histrionics..no dramatic sobs...just plain humane reactions that strike a chord with the audience...she looks weathered, tired,  pregnant  and beautiful all in one go! The cast almost look like they have been sculpted and tailored to fit each role and they lend that rock solid support for the movie! All in all, as the credits rolled by, I sat at the edge of my seat riveted by the brilliance of the movie maker and content in spending a weekend witnessing a worthwhile performance.
And now I move on to an experience called 'Housefull 2'! My maiden Akshaya Kumar Ritesh kinds movie...I can start off in their defence that the movie met and exceeded my expectations..Forced into the movie hall, I walked in ready for a few hours of mindless slapstick ‘comedy’ (for lack of a better word that I can use in its place) and the creator granted me exactly that! The movie from the word ‘action’ to ‘pack up’ is a slew of scenes packed with senseless witless actions which have no relevance to each other and wipes out any sense of ‘logic’ that the audience can be credited with! The actors (too strong a word for the puppets that dotted the screen) seemed more like amateur school kids doing their ‘action song’ at an anniversary celebration... I was awed at the audacity of the movie maker in imagining that scenes like people falling over each other and pet crocodiles (yes can you believe) chasing people around can tickle laughter reactions??? The plot is astounding in its height of imagination I must confess....characters that are transported from a ship to an island to a waterfall and finally to a resort cannot be imagined by  a ‘less fertile’ mind...some more startling ideas that the movie threw in at intervals were mind boggling (not the Inception kinds trust me)...a  ‘dhakkoo’ (think Gabbar Singh) converts himself into  a ‘Forbes’ industrialist of the year at London...The industrialist converts himself to a ‘dhakkoo’ at his son’s wedding and Prince Charles tries to intervene (‘in the name of Majesty’)..and I can go on but I wouldn’t want to take away the ‘suspense’ for the less fortunate who haven’t had a chance to catch the movie! And as if to add some ‘finishing’ touches to the masterpiece, there are sudden outbursts of ‘morality’ and scenes dedicated to friendship, family and relationships..Overall, I laughed my way out of the hall...gaping at the stupidity of spending crores in making a movie like this and the wastage of talent bundled in legendary actors who were ‘misused’ in the charade..am not sure about the ‘houseful’ but I had my ‘mouthful’ and would have spat them out if I did confront the man behind this performance!

Coalition Drama

I am not sure why coalition has an uncanny resemblance to the term collision but over the days and weeks that India witnessed I guess the two words are slowly becoming synonyms for each other! Coalition dharma seems to be the one and final excuse for the paralytic limp that India suffers from..it’s the easiest way to shirk one’s parliamentary duties..it’s the one word rebuttal for any fingers pointed at our policymakers incompetence! And as if to give more meaning to the word, our coalition partners time and again make their presence felt not in furthering the interests of the country but in breaking open any small steps towards good policymaking! Foul cries, conflicts and drama have further paralyzed an already mute government who is in no hurry to act or clean (more importantly) the mess!

Sometimes I wonder if we need to bring a ‘two-party’ system in our country for ‘something’ (good or bad) to happen? Action being the operating word….Maybe we are over democratized..too much representation at the cost of too little action..maybe it’s time for a trade off? What is a country without new and refreshing policies and a path forward? We can’t live in the shadows of rules made in the ‘black and white’ British era when the country has lunged forward and painted itself multicolours.  We cannot rest on imaginary laurels, look up at the sky and imagine a day when we will become a super power!  Maybe it would mean that the country chooses from the devil and the deep sea but atleast the party in power will have to put in force the policies it promises in that all important manifesto. Atleast the excuse of coalition dharma and drama cannot come in the way of execution of promises to the electorate. Atleast the mass loot and corruption cannot last beyond 4 years in a single sitting..Atleast the true head of our country will have the powers to bring the thieves and crooks to task if it truly has the will to weed out corruption!

It is definitely not the idealist nation that one wants to look forward to but maybe it’s better than sitting on the fence without the will to act and without a plan of action? A thought to ponder over till such time all I can pray for is ‘coalition karma’!

The External Factor

We symbolize a generation that has fallen head over heels for the ‘externalism’ in every individual….we live a lie from dawn to dusk and bask in that external silhouette of ourselves...and perhaps over a period of time, we start to believe that lie we live, eat, drink and speak!

We are defined by the company of brands we keep….within each of us, we believe that’s who we are! The culmination of all our efforts and dreams are no longer states such as ‘happiness’ and ‘peace’…rather we quantify every milestone by the brands that we acquire at those important junctures... the keys to your branded elite apartment stamps your entry into the ‘next phase of life’, the transition from a small car to the dream SUV catapults you to a ‘high achiever’ tag, the acquisition of the exclusive club membership determines your social ‘strata’.  There is a price and a tag to everything and everyone in our lives….We judge people by the cut and tag of their clothes….we choose friends who belong to our circle of branded existence….we ‘sniff’ out the best in a crowd from their fragrance…we admire not the virtuous from the lot but perhaps the one mouthing the best sounding accent!

Our actions are restricted to what is ‘deemed uber cool’ and not necessarily what we love doing the best! It’s not important if we truly relish the taste of the obscenely priced wine in an upbeat restaurant.. but what is important is if we have been caught with that glass for a precious ‘page 3’ moment! We go on exotic holidays where we experience less of the place and think more of the snaps that we need to share with our circle on our return…It all boils down to dropping those words that matter in our corridor, wedding, workplace conversations…a European holiday here, a golf weekend there …..effortless words that change perspectives magically….the onlookers’ eyes transition from disgust to admiration as we spell out the words that matter! I was amazed to hear of a website which gives you enough information to ‘appear’ to have read the books that broke into the best selling category..Imagine a world where it’s not about enjoying the experience of reading a book, but it’s about telling people about a book that you ‘appear’ to have read!

This externalism follows us faithfully from family gatherings to our private 8*8 area called workspaces. The package we create of ourselves and the blitzkrieg marketing of our strong holds create that lasting impression and may break or make our path of glory in the corporate snakes and ladders. Words like packaging and branding no longer associate with objects but relate much better to people… The sum total of your net worth of sincerity and brilliance is measured in the onlookers’ eyes..the word ‘seem’ never had a field day like in this day and age!

The charade that we display to others slowly and steadily becomes our character and before you and I know it………the thin line between what we are and what we appear blurs into oblivion!

A Relation Born

Starts on the curve of a smile

Ends on the corner of a scowl

May brew over a cup of coffee

May begin on a train journey

A relation born every moment

A birth with no rhyme or reason

A pat can smooth it

A spat can kill it

A helping hand can sweeten it

A fist of fury can sour it

Grows from fertile soil of emotional needs

Weeds from murky swamp of pecuniary intention

Some root deep into you

Some rot without effort

Some float in the flimsy film of society

Some flower into timeless ties

Relations stringed together with bonds of sacred ties

Relations not christened by any society

Take eternity to build

Yet moments to lose

Founded in a glance

Yet last a lifetime

Relations which need oiling to keep wheels moving

Relations which stay pure despite rusting of time

Come alive from legal compulsions

Face death from human ego

Stem from human needs

Wither at momentary outbursts

A changing kaleidoscope of relations

First born of a mother’s womb

Lives beyond ashes of funeral pyre

The Woman In Me

The X chromosome does wonders and creates a being like no man can ever understand or even comprehend to understand….forgive this “feminist’’ narrative but today I had to pen my thoughts as a woman………….be assured that the hoarse and lame cries of Womans Day and the yawning clichéd fair sex related disputes have nothing to do with this passage…rather I guess when you cross that untouchable 30+ number, probably you start your self-discovery and reflective journeys as you see yourself unwillingly accept the transition from the moppy haired school girl to the responsible woman (that people see you as)…Everyday, that dreamy eyed Ghubra school girl wakes up and sees herself in the mirror…tagged with a mangalsutra…….streaked with a few grey  hair…burdened with a few responsibilities….trying to inch her way ahead of the ‘other woman’ that society creates within her…some days the girl wins hands down, some days she succumbs to the ‘other woman’, few days they co-exist without a fight!

Every early morning is jumpstarted with an overhyped desire for a fit and fine body………its so important to look and feel good for a woman…….the constant phobia of bulging tummies and expanding waistlines lives with you………..the sight of a streak of grey hair can thrown your mental equilibrium into thin air ….a nice hair do, a sincere complement creates flutters in a woman’s heart………..its silly and yet so true! However much you scream the mantra of ‘inner beauty’, deep down a woman needs the pamper of pedicured feet and conditioned hair!

Once you feel so you have done your bit for that hour glass figure, then you start your next focus point…of enjoying a morning with your bitter better half……..there is so much to talk and you need that ‘other person’ to hear you, to acknowledge and challenge you in your hundred and one views of the world………….a woman’s talk and chat capabilities have been mocked too often..to elaborate on that skill would be a waste of precious words……..once my ‘chat’ appetite is satiated, I need my window with the world….when my little friend called newspaper tells me the ways of the world……..the things that moved and the things that didn’t move the earlier day…….it’s a paradox that I get a sense of control sitting in Bangalore after reading the state of affairs in Syria!!

Once I feel that I have conquered all the world’s affairs, I step outside to earn my daily bread………..a job for a woman is such a mixed bag…its a reward to myself for the long crazy nights spent in educating myself…….its my expression of freedom from the rest of the world…its my ticket to guilt-free trips to shopping malls……..its my way of escape from the haunting image called homemaker (erstwhile housewife)….Once you land yourself in that corporate realm, you are a different being, you forget about your ‘bad hair day’, the milk that spilt in your kitchen and you are on the rampage to the race for the ultimate success story……..There again a woman is accosted with strange encounters…………you have to hide that despair when a long night schedule may break something back home, you have to silence that beloved call to answer the needs of an organization, you have to put on your ‘brave’ act and cloak your embarrassing fear for late night cab rides! You are in a constant race ….a fair and unprejudiced race where the terms fair sex, woman and homemaker have no placeholders!

Once you eject yourself from the battle ground, the four letter F word makes it ugly presence…FOOD…you realize that you are also the ‘bread maker’ in your family….I fail to comprehend my enemity with vegetable markets..but it is the most painful and boring shopping trip for a woman (like me)…after a quick sprint purchase, you enter that sacred space which generations together have reserved for the culinary woman!  The kitchen is the next battleground where you battle the world of vegetables, spices, taste and health to cook up a meal in record time! Swallowing self-made food without an option to whine or complain are ‘defeat’ moments that you try to overcome with the good old ‘practice’ routine!

After the 6 to 11 routine performance, a few precious moments of mission unwind……..you need your own private ‘space’  ..you need your ‘girly chat and giggle session’ with your best girl friends…you need that warm no-holds conversation with your mother….Moments to remember the person that you are, to relate to the passions you have, to bond with the people that you love….before you sleep tight as the ‘complete’ woman!!! (pardon my plagiarism)!

Delhi over the years

I can never get enough of the city called Delhi……….its fondness has grown and travelled with me through my CA days to my corporate adult days…and every visit reinforces and enhances my fondness for the spirit called Delhi!

My earliest tryst with this city was my break with a school bosom buddy and that ten days of Delhi Darshan was perhaps the most outrageous experience of my life………exploring a city with your best friend with no holds and in the height of post examination excitement is difficult to recreate in your adult days…we scurried around the city like tramps….eating the what’s what of Delhi street food….admiring the architectural treasures that Delhi boasts of…..shopping and giggling through the high and cheap shopping havens that is sprinkled across Delhi! And as if the happiness and freedom was not enough, my face to face moment with the Taj and Fatehpur Sikhri will probably remain as one of the most awe inspiring moments of my life…

I brought home a gigantic portion of happiness and a bit of Delhi with me and over the years the word Delhi always rings and floods me with the laughter and sheer elation that I experienced….I have had the fortune of brushing and flirting with the city over my last few official trips…Pleasant trips to CP…that circumference of Delhi with the glittering India Gate at its heart, bordered with lush greenery and beautified with the white pristine monolith structures…Shopping Nirvana in Delhi’s streets….the carnival of bags, shoes and dresses that strokes and brings out the shopaholic in me…Eating my heart out at the ‘Northy’ food festivals...sinful, buttery yummy food that creates a glutton out of me…

This time was no different from my earlier ‘brushes’ with Delhi…except for the fact that this was my ‘maiden summer’ visit to Delhi…………the visit shattered my ‘stereotype images’ of Delhi…of association with foggy winters…..women clad in colourful shawls……..aroma of ‘masala chai’……….This time’s escapade with a friend was under a sun that was bordering on unrelenting………….Delhi impressed me from the word ‘go’ from the moment I landed in the and only ‘T3’ of India…….Its vast but yet planned expanse struck its first blow of ‘wow’! This is definitely the ‘anti-third world’ experience that we should offer every non Indian stepping foot on this land……….I was literally taken for a ‘joy ride’ when I boarded the metro from the airport to Delhi’s warm heart called CP! I felt as the train lounged forward that we were slowly bridging the gap between ‘us’ and ‘them’ atleast in the infrastructure battles of the world……right from the boarding point to the clean plush seating arrangements to the wide angle view of Delhi..the ride kept me enthralled and for that moment I was enjoying the journey rather than the destination!

Exploring CP on foot and taking in the white British structures was as soothing and sweet as the Vanilla shake that I consumed through the walk………As if to break the monotony of the silence and peace at CP, there was a whole different world underground….the noisy crowded Palika Bazar that was buzzing and screaming down below……its vendors nudging and pushing each other for a ‘purchase’… a wide display of the Guccis and Pradas of the world at a poor man’s price…….I moved on to the ‘yo’ experience called Khan market……..the frame changed drastically from the ‘street food’ to the ‘European aped cafes’ dotting the streets…..the high and mighty brands displayed in style..Destination Delhi Haat was my next stop…….As if by rule, I gorged on Aloo Parathas (just can’t resist the Paratha experience in Delhi) and tried my first taste of ‘fruit beer’ and then set on my shopping spree….only a woman can understand the magnetism of ‘your kind’ of colourful display of stoles, scarfs, junk jewellery and all things nice and Indian!..............I tried my act of the ‘knowledgeable bargainer’ but finally succumbed to the temptation and came out with a few material possessions…..

My last stop for the day was at the lush green Lodhi gardens….was fortunate to catch a peacock performing live with its plume in full bloom….I felt and admired the remains of yesteryears and the peace of the acres of greenery around….To finally end the tour in style, I slurped down an icy freezy kulfi under the sweaty Delhi heat and headed for my guest house in Noida a truly satisfied tourist…..Noida of course did not offer me any more ‘sights’ for the day and painted a ‘grey dreary dusty’ image probably to my prejudiced eyes after an overdose of Delhi..

But Noida aside, from the uber cool to the wide highways….to its historic and traditional  structures and markets….I realized that Delhi has truly kept its head aloft…re-inventing itself and keeping itself ahead of the country …through the Mughal era to the ‘nameless’ era that we live in………!

It was truly snatched and kept the word ‘capital’ for itself …and needless to say a deserving crown that no city can battle with!!

Music Therapy for the SOUL

A morning of melodious soft music wakes me up to a new world each day

A day of soul stirring songs energizes me to fulfill a day’s responsibilities

An evening of classical carnatic fusion enriches me beyond a thousand sunsets

A night of foot tapping adrenaline inspiring numbers shakes off monsters of lethargy

Words cannot express the waves that melody creates

Expressions cannot capture the exhilaration that soulful music generates

Thoughts cannot be curtailed during the reverberations of a rendering

Music that humbles me at the feet of a singer

Music that creates a new me every evening

Music that divides me from sorrow

Music that truly unites me with divinity!

Far Far Away

The urban lights of Bangalore faded into oblivion as the aircraft took me to my longest trip outside India…My laptop accompanied me onboard this official journey across the oceans to US yet again….it stared back at me with a muted promise to be with me through the very end and I can safely say that it definitely kept its promise…’work’ was that trusted companion that rode beside me through every waking US hour…work was that ‘being’ that stayed with me in my hotel room as the midnight oil burnt and work most definitely shook me from my ‘jet lagged’ slumber through the wee hours of the morning….

But ‘business’ aside, a sluggish Pensacola town in Florida welcomed me into its midst………initially the roads and sights seemed just like any other US town…but over the days the city ‘grew’ on me and suddenly I developed a strange familiarity and attachment with its picturesque cottages, historic town square, wide expanse of highways and beloved greenery…The days rolled by and I experienced the ‘US way’ of life with my ‘little Indian gang’ as I tasted varied cuisines, ‘chittered-chattered’ through our ‘highway drives’ and experienced the ‘adrenaline rush’ through our numerous shopping trips..slowly but steadily I was unveiling my prejudice against this country…….My most ‘wow’ moment in that one month would have to be jointly shared amongst my miserable attempt at ‘ice-skating’ and an equally adventurous attempt at ‘clutch-free’ driving in US!

A weekend long drive to Atlanta was yet another perfect getaway that comes to my mind……..We zipped past the sweet sights of Alabama, its cotton fields and ponies and farms waving and cheering as we moved towards destination Atlanta! I marveled at the speed and ease of the US highways….no fear of a bullock cart accosting you mid-way…no fear of ‘restroomless’ (forgive my ‘female’ instinct) stretches…! Atlanta acknowledged me like an old mate..its attractions bringing me memories of my earlier trip…but this time I stopped, stared and seeped in the beauty of Atlanta downtown as the sun’s dusky rays painted it golden brown! As the night broke, the Olympics Arena park in the heart of the town lit up a thousand lights and Atlanta Downtown shimmered its beautiful best that night! That was that one cherished ‘Sony Cybershot’ moment in Atlanta!

But Pensacola hid its best treasures from me till the very last day……….And on my departure date, I rode through a mighty bridge through the ocean to reach that treasure island…on that beautiful misty morning I experienced enchantment on Pensacola beach!! There it was in front of me…a white carpet of sugary snowy sand………laced with azure blue waters…….. ! I braved the cold and dashed through the crystal sands and blue waters……….nothing to beat the feeling of sand and water seeping through your toes…..It was almost as if earth, water and sky united that morning for a stellar performance!

With a strange ‘contented’ heart, I boarded my flight home reminiscing the moments that went by….but fate had something else in store for me…….!Suddenly a chain of events led me from a flight delay to a missed connecting flight and finally landed me a free night stay in PARIS! As I stepped out of Paris airport in search of a shuttle to my hotel, I couldn’t believe my fortune (good or bad)……here I was in PARIS….. a disheveled ME with no clothes to change.. a freezing ME in sub-zero temperatures with just a jacket!  PARIS…….now what can I write and say about Paris that has not already been written..the best of the best creators in the world have praised and painted this city since BC days?? But for me that evening in Paris was an exhilarating journey……..images, words, thoughts… French class and text books, Marie Antoinette, French revolution, Renaissance, fashion capital…all danced through my mind as I meandered through Parisian streets and finally stood face to face with Le Tour Eiffel!! Not plastic, not the miniature but the real one!  Its architectural splendor and sheer size humbled me, the museum, bridge and cobbled streets around awed me…I couldn’t get myself to return but finally I had to succumb to the biting cold and head back to my hotel..that night I slept a content and thrilled woman!

The rest of the journey offered me nothing more and I reached home definitely looking a tramp but feeling a hundred years richer..would I go through this again? Yes, the answer is a loud emphatic yes..

Vacation Unfolds

As I packed my bags and configured my out of office message, a strange elation took control.. a feeling that I last felt last year when I packed my bags for a vacation.

The excitement of a vacation is difficult to capture in words…it’s the same feeling when you say good bye to friends one day from summer holidays…. when you journey from hostel to home! Its a refreshing breeze which takes you on a light hearted free flowing ride!

Our first day was at good old Bangalore…a sweet and short ride in the Metro followed by Christmas shopping in Commercial street…small little pleasures that add up to the experience called freedom. It’s a strange ‘sadistic’ feel when you walk down MG Road without the burdens of a laptop and official duties screeching  in your mind.

The official launch of vacation 2011 commenced in the train to Kerala…its always a familiar green welcome from Gods Own Country as one chugs into the familiar ground…the first few days zipped past with weddings and gatherings where chatter and laughter flowed unabated. Our next stop was the historic  Bekal fort….our cousin jing bang bundled into the car and squeezed and joked our way to the destination. The fort stood at its mighty best on that bright December afternoon…flexing its hulky muscles at us…..the sun scorching and glistening its boundaries..its might and beauty teased and complemented simultaneously by the ocean that surrounds it!  Waves breaking at its feet..daring it to fight the might of the ocean! The fort also has its share of a string of ‘movie’ scenes shot at that ‘holy’ ground….! We were exhausted with our own ‘photo shoot’ and escapades under the relentless rays of the sun and almost collapsed at the lunch table. After a sumptuous meal, we headed to the long scenic beach next to the fort…after printing and reprinting our names on the sands and building our castles, we took respite in the cool blue waters…an innings of splashes and screams in the water, a ricketing ride on the horse cart and an evening meal by the backwaters and the day drew to a close…we returned tanned and content in different measures!

The next few days were lost in the travel between families, between homes and drowned in the company of near and dear…ecstasy found different meanings as I lay on a cozy sofa at home sipping ‘amma’s coffee…as I watched movies without a deadline to worry me… as I laughed and dived into ‘leg pulling’ with cousins, aunts and uncles….as I breathed in the greenery and serenity of Kerala…!

The last leg as we launched ourselves into the new year was Wayanad….a precious district tucked away from the big bad world…blessed with all good things….sugar (maybe not) and spices quite literally…………we found paradise in the little wooden cottage, waking up to the gurgling sounds of the stream, walking through the woods, dipping in the little pool, witnessing the misty morning amongst the tea, coffee plantations and wilderness and finally sleeping after a rejuvenating ‘spa’ experience! A boat ride in Pookkot lake and a few moments observing the Wayanad valley..creased out all the stress and fault lines within….!

As they say all good things must come to an end, we left our little paradise behind and boarded the bus  as unwilling little kids..the heavens blurring behind us as the bus accelerated its way into Bangalore!