Desicritics Category: Culture: Travel

The God in Small Things

Ritu Chandra — Wed, 16 Jul 2008 00:13:25 EDT

I went for a walk to the waterfront today. Ever since, I moved to New Jersey, the waterfront has been a high-point of my summer life. The delightful discovery of its existence right behind my apartment complex was a moment of serendipity. The waterfront is a cosy little park, hidden behind a giant industrial storage area. The 'water' it faces is a narrow causeway that is used to ferry ships across to the various ports that dot this region of Jersey. It is a quiet place, with a small deck, some recreational facilities and a walking path alongside the reeds that mark the shores of the waterway. An evening walk at the water-front is the best way to get my spirits soaring and my friends..... smirking.

"So, did you visit your nala recently?"
"It's not a nala, it is a waterway"
"Are you considering cross-channel swimming?[smirk, smirk]"

The modest nature of its existence, its limited clientele and my exuberance over something this modest is the main cause of mirth amongst the blimps I consider as friends. My humble waterfront is no Atlantic City boardwalk after all.

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Robin Bhai is my dear 'internet' friend and fellow music lover. He and I have spent many delightful keystrokes debating over our musical proclivities. We usually arrive at a somewhat amicable agreement on most points... except one.

"Jaidev is far superior to Laxmikant Pyarelal (LP), Robin Bhai"
"

How? Jaidev has the music for barely 50 films to his credit, LP have 500."

"But the 400 of those films have pedestrian music"

"Yet they have 100 worthwhile ones. That is still more than Jaidev’s entire output"
"

Where is 'Allah Tero Naam' or 'Bansuriya Man Har le Gayi' in that count?"

"How many times can you admire a single dazzling goldfish in your little pond? The larger lake throbbing with marine life is likely to give more pleasure.

"Not if 90% those fishes are a dull grey in colour"

"One needs to appreciate the sheer effort required to build an edifice of 4000 songs"

"I can acknowledge it but I only appreciate genius"

“But there is a genius in numbers”

"Quality"

"Hits"

"Class"

“Elitist”

Thump

Alt-Ctrl-Del [That was Robin Bhai btw]

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My visit to the Valley of Flowers was my first real brush with spiritual India. The Himalayas are home to sadhus and babas of various hues. Little shrines dot the mountains and devoted men of God look after these shrines with an asceticism that seems to flow into anyone who spends time at those heights. I had a pleasant encounter with a twinkly- eyed baba who looks after a small hanuman shrine at the entrance to the valley. He invited us to his tent for a visit. I spent a rewarding hour sitting around the fire, sipping sweet hot tea and listening to fascinating tales of the mysticism of the mountains. As we left, I made a modest offering at his altar and my gesture was met with heartfelt wishes for my well-being. I came away feeling richer.

Two days later I am down in Haridwar, just in time to catch the famous aarti on the banks of the Ganga. Chaos, crowds, confusion. Someone pulls at my hand. "Pooja karni hai madam", another man jostles with him "aap log mere saath aaiye madam". A third man, a fourth, a fifth.... 'Madam!’… ‘Sir!’... 'Hello’... I want to scream.

Jostling with the crowds I find a footing on the banks of the river just as the aarti starts. A spectacular moment unfolds before my eyes. The fire in the lamps held aloft by the priests light up the dark waters of the river in a celestial glow. With the aarti over, I put my sentiments and some money into a little pooja contraption ready to offer it to the river. I reverentially hand it to the pandit who has finally won the battle to our clientele.

'Sirf itne rupaiye madam?". [Is that all mam?]

As I let my contraption with the little diya float down the river, the only thing that throbs in my mind - How will we get out of this chaos?

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The aarti on the Ganga at Haridwar is a much sought after experience. The five minutes during which it is performed are undoubtedly magical and uplifting. However, those five minutes of a higher experience come packaged with fifty five minutes of strife, chaos and frustration. The effect is all but diluted. In direct contrast, the little shrine up in the mountains does not provide any spectacle, only quiet reflection. Yet, the serenity and sense of purity surrounding the place strengthens its impact. The experience lingers till long after.

The tussle is between the established and the obscure, the grandiose and the unassuming. The established side of the line packs any well known entity(place, monument, art, idea etc.) that has built a reputation based upon the testimony of a huge section of the population. The ‘obscure’ comprises of little known entities that offer limited but potent enjoyment. The famous, is usually famous because there is some larger than life element associated with it. The reputation of the 'established' is in essence its aura. For e.g visitors to Taj Mahal are of three kinds - first that admire the Taj, second who admire the fact that they visited the Taj and the third who don't care. The famous usually attracts all these kinds of people. And that is what proves counter-productive for them.

The profusion of humanity at the doorstep of such entities dulls their aura. When so many people jostle for a share of the pie, everyone gets only a minuscule nibble. Little known places on the other hand hide only a slice of life, but to the traveler that seeks them, they generously hand over the entire slice. These places offer a sense of exclusivity, ownership and discovery. The experience is unadulterated and satiating.

I often wonder, if the sense of discovery of a modest entity is so rewarding, imagine the exhilaration of the explorer who discovers a grand edifice. How would Hiram Bingham have felt when he discovered the grand Machu Picchu or what was Neil Armstrong's state of mind when he set foot on the moon. (We all do know how Archimedes felt in his moment of Eureka in the bath tub). The first sip of the nectar that the cosmos offers to those who discover its secrets must have nirvanic potency. Yet, this effect starts ebbing with each subsequent sip and for long established wonders; it is nothing but stale wine.

For many who derive pleasure from reading, art, traveling or discussing ideas, evaluation is an enjoyable exercise. Take for instance the Desert Island concept. The process of choosing a set of artists whose work you would like to be marooned with provides an interesting insight into your own proclivities. What will sustain you for longer? A set of ten works all rated 5/10, or only one that is rated 9/10? Which artist do you rate higher? The one who creates a large body of work with more indifferent and some excellent output or the one who creates a smaller body of work mainly with excellent output?. Will you give credit to an artist for being prolific or will you take credit away for indiscriminate prolificacy?

Over the years I have discovered I belong to the tribe that gravitates towards the unassuming. I will gladly choose the one 9/10 work and devour it to it's minutest nuance. The artists I revere are the ones have a smaller but individualistic repertoire. The places I frequent are far from the maddening crowd.

At the end of the day, a rose in the garden is magnificent in its preening glory yet it has to be shared with the world , the small wild-flower that pops it’s head out from the undergrowth, is all but mine. There is a certain romance in obscurity, the romance of discovery. The world might run after the rose, but the nectar in my life comes from these tiny wild flowers.

My God - he lives in the small things.

No Longer An Estranged NRI

Deepti Lamba — Sat, 12 Jul 2008 12:53:47 EDT

I suffered a reverse culture shock two years ago when we returned to India. America had been the exact opposite of India in many ways.

Silence had been the first thing that had jarred my senses back in the US. There had been too much silence. I could hear myself think. And then there were so few people. The only time I saw lots of people was at concerts, malls or in New York but California and Milwaukee made me love silence and open spaces.

Then I came back to India after five years and found myself vulnerable to all that I had forgotten. I had to teach myself to grow a thicker skin, to be immune to the beggar banging away on my car window, to learn to live with filth and crumbling infrastructure and not complain about it.

I was suddenly a returned NRI estranged from her country and out of sync with her own family. But with time I found myself rediscovering the soul of her country. I found myself loving the noise, the irrationality of living in every little available space, of crawling over each other in buses, trains and ferries but never making eye contact and finding out that the poor of our country are far more helpful than the rich and snotty.

For all the little tots pooping on the sidewalks, the religious processions causing traffic jams, the crazy divide between the rich and poor I found myself easing back into the fold.

It was like rediscovering love with the same person without going through the headiness of honeymoon stage. It was like a pragmatic love, where after all the whining and the soul searching one came to a simple conclusion that this was it and nothing else would be better- there could be no other relationship and I had to make it work.

When I realized that this was all I had it got easier. I came back to India but left my excess baggage at the doorstep. I came to realize that each country is different and there can be no comparisons.

I still love America, I'd love to visit her again, meet my friends, eat at my favorite restaurants, browse the bookshops but India is where I would finally like to return.

"Scoring" in the United States

Chaitanya S — Thu, 10 Jul 2008 01:07:55 EDT

The Indian economy is on an upward growth path and showing a tremendous growth at 9%. My girth is doing exactly the same, though I feel my growth rate is much more. Talk of being a true representative of your country on foreign soil!

What can represent Indian more than a game of cricket? I finally played a match last month. I was looking forward to having a dream debut and leaving an impact on the game. I had this personal ambition of seeing a 50 next to my name on the score card. I got the game off to a rollicking start and reached 40 in the 3 overs in which I was in action. Suddenly the captain gestured me to stop and let someone else take over. He made it pretty clear to me that the 50 looks better next to my name while batting, not bowling! Whatever! I clearly remember hearing commentators saying “A half century is a half century in any form of cricket”. Shooting down aspirations of budding sportsmen is such an Indian trait. The captain thus displayed his "Indianness"!

I was chatting with a friend and he asked me “So have you scored in the US as yet?” I was a bit ashamed of my batting performance, but being an honest soul, I said, “Yeah it was pretty tough, but I managed 5”. Knowing every honest bone in my body, he gave me a phone call within 30 seconds of me sending the message in. “So how were they? Americans or Indians? How did you manage so quickly? Damn, 5 chicks in 3 months is rocking! Wish I’d studied there!” Maybe this is the communication gap between virtual teams that the professor warned us about in class. No wonder most people say that MBA education is mostly based on real life situations.

Back to the point, I did not have the heart to act like my captain and curtail someone’s excitement. But after a few seconds of listening to a running commentary of his own exploits, I let the bubble burst and told him I meant cricket. Suddenly I was flooded with comments of how busy he was, how late in the night it was for him and how he really had to hang up.

Statistics show that 80,000 Indian students come to the US annually. I am dead sure that when these 80,000 cross the psychological barrier of making the first long distance call to their friends, the first question they are faced with is the one which faced me. Friends back in India don’t give two hoots about whether you are pursuing an MS, an MBA or a janitor’s diploma.

Hard as it may seem since I’m a “pakka Mumbaikar”, I’d rather be a Dravid than a Tendulkar on foreign shores (figuratively speaking, of course). That will equip me with the perfect technique to “score” consistently in alien conditions rather than just “plundering” on home soil. Now I’ve realized what they mean by accomplishments in India not being appreciated as compared to foreign ones.

Since I’m on the topic of sports, I have to mention my experience in a bowling alley. Now my bowling in the alley isn’t as accomplished as that on a cricket pitch. So by the time we were half way through the game, the screen displaying scores appeared like a chart of noughts and crosses. I had most of the noughts because of innumerable gutter balls and my friends had the crosses because of perfect strikes. One of them asked me “Bet you’ll never manage 3 straight crosses?” Well I could have shown him a few sheets with my name and lots of crosses under that. Too bad Mumbai University does not return our engineering answer sheets. But the score sheet surely evoked nostalgia of my engineering tests, with the crosses, and the zeros right next to them.

But things aren’t all that bleak in my life. I think I’ve finally learned to cook now and my roomies have heaved a sigh of relief. Well I don’t blame them. If the cook doesn’t eat his own food, it surely does provide food for thought to the others. Well I’m proud to state my cooking has reached a stage where I can satiate my own taste buds without going green in the face.

I was chatting with one of my friends yesterday and she asked me,”You’ve been there for almost 3 months, what was the most difficult thing you found fitting into?” I read it and I bit my lower lip with regret. That question hit me where it really hurt. An honest answer was typed back. “My denims”.

Travel Review: Bangalore's Innovative Film City

Anuradha Goyal — Thu, 10 Jul 2008 00:11:55 EDT

If you have enough money in your pocket, all the wonders and attractions in the world will walk up to you and park themselves near you, so that you can visit them as and when you want, without having to go around the world and hop cities. The Innovative Film City is one such ambitious project that brings a lot of world attractions to India. It is a place that is aiming to be one stop shop for all forms of modern day entertainment.

The Innovative Film City is located about 40 kms from Bangalore on Mysore road, a good strategic location as it will be accessible from both Bangalore and Mysore. The whole city is said to be spread over 58 acres, but to me it looks slightly larger than that. The place is still under construction but was opened formally in April, 2008. There are few attractions and amusements which are operational, some are in the process of coming up and some are planned to come.

The Film City is planned to provide 360 degree solutions for entertainment, both for the customers of entertainment industry and the industry itself. Its website says three major planned sections of entertainment. The first is Innovative Attractions which covers amusements, attractions, museums and entertainment. The second is Innovative Style which covers shopping, dining, leisure & lifestyle. The third is Innovative Studio which would have an academy, studio and facilities for film shooting and production.

Of the attractions, most are ready or almost ready. There are museums like Madame Tussaud’s Wax Museum, Ripley’s Believe it or Not! Museum, Guinness Book of World Records and Jurassic Fossil museum. There are attractions like Dinosaur world, miniature city, Snow Park, mock sets, cartoon city, haunted mansion. In Amusements, they have Funplex where you can play many video and high end games and also see a 4-D movie. Then there is go-karting, mirror maze, mini golf, aqua kingdom where you can go and play around for some time. There are two amphitheaters - one an open one with a seating capacity of more than 5000 people and another for children. A 21 screen multiplex is planned too. The other two segments Style and Studio are yet to come up.

The facade of the city gives a magnificent look. As you take a turn from the road, and enter the city it makes you feel as if you are entering something majestic. As you go inside, at this point in time you see a lot of construction going on, but you can also see that something world class is being built, both in terms of attractions and the way the facility is being managed. There are a lot of employees spread across the length and breadth of the city who keep guiding you towards various places, though there are well printed maps and guides that they hand you over with the tickets. The facility is very well maintained even though half of it is still under construction. There is a food court where you get various cuisines at reasonable prices, and there are Cafe Coffee Day outlets for your caffeine and snacking needs. Drinking water is available at various places.

Entry to the city is priced at Rs 50/- per person and each attraction comes at an additional cost which ranges from Rs 50/- to Rs 200/- . You can plan for Rs 800-1000 per person for a day to visit to the film city, and I am sure you can see only a part of it in a day. Once it is complete, it looks like there will be many things that will keep bringing people back to the film city, especially the huge and well designed amphitheater. I think this is going to become a major destination for the future shows in the city. Parking is outside the film city on the road at the moment, I am not sure if a proper parking area is planned, but I hope there is one, otherwise that may become a bottleneck very soon. Probably they may also want to come up with differential pricing for people who might not be able to afford the current or the future pricing. Maybe something like happy hours on weekdays…

Overall, this is a good project that brings something new and different to the city to keep it engaged. I usually do not like visiting artificial places but I would still say that it is definitely worth one visit, post which you can take a call if you want to visit it again.

Book Review: The Girls of Riyadh

Ms. Anona — Mon, 7 Jul 2008 13:57:58 EDT

Hooray for the Girls of Riyadh! May you all find true love and freedom while adhering to what is most virtuous of your religion and traditions!

Finally, a tell-all book about everyday life of four young well-off Saudi girls (five if you count the narrator) and is considered the first astonishing glimpse behind the veil. The 'true' story is told over a year of weekly postings published online. The novel reads more like a soap opera really, with each chapter full of short stints of dramas from each character. In fact, this book would be too disconnected and superficial if set anywhere else, barely making it into the adult genre. But, since this is Saudi Arabia after all, a country well-known to fervently oppress women's rights, the reader easily becomes attached to the characters, their mild acts of rebellion, and attempts at finding true love.

Love does not come easy in a land where the hijab is compulsory and mingling of the sexes a mortal sin. In fact, Alsanea goes so far as to say that there is an all-out ban on love. Even Valentine's Day is a threat to campus officials, red roses and cute cards expressing affection confiscated yearly. Still, somehow males and females are able to mingle and dream of catering to their first loves the same as any other around the globe. It is no wonder that a handful of these premature loves fail so drastically and without explanation, even after marriage. Such is the case of the girls of Riyadh, childhood friends that go their separate ways, but manage to stay together to share their stories.

Gamreh, living in Chicago, is dedicated to an arranged marriage before finding out her husband is still in a previous relationship and not willing to leave his girlfriend. She returns back to Riyadh alone and pregnant. Sadeem is also abandoned by her arranged spouse shortly after the first ceremony, moves to London, and then falls disasterously for a Saudi politician. Michelle moves to San Francisco and has a crush on her American cousin who doesn't really feel the same way. But the story, the real story, is brought about by the fourth girl, Lamees.

Lamees realizes she is falling for a classmate. She has stood by the trials and tribulations of her displaced friends, but is smarter and doesn't want to become like them. She wants to be successful in love and sets out to create a strict guideline for herself. She will not give in too easily, or show how willing she is towards him. She remains conservative and in time the boy seeks to ask her father for her hand. In the end, Lamees is the only one of the four girls who is able to follow through on her dreams, the same dream all four women share. Even though there are aspects of modern-day Feminism sprinkled all over the book, the irony here is that success comes for Lamees in a way that is acceptable to their culture and beliefs in how appropriate Muslim women should act.

The story ends happily for Sadeem and Michelle as well, although not as how they intended. Gamreh, however, completely falls off the radar and becomes too burdomsome of a character to even be mentioned in the happy ending. An explanation is given at the end of the book saying that the real Gamreh (name changed) became aware of the scandal and dissaproved saying her name would be further slandered. It gives the book life, like a reality TV show, but as far as writing a novel is concerned, the ending seems clique and fixed.

Still, Rajaa Alsanea’s novel is worth a read, if only because the book is banned in several Middle East countries, deemed as too risqué and un-Islamic. One of the most interesting parts of the book comes from the narration of the anonymous writer herself, which describes the differing emails received throughout the online publishings. Some readers, of course, admire her while others tell her how she is degrading Saudi culture. It is interesting to analyze how the most conservative of this society rationalize their views on the role of women. Overall, The Girls of Riyadh is deemed a real-life incantation of what it means to be single and female in Saudi Arabia and is a story worthy of telling.

Book Review: The Reluctant Fundamentalist by Mohsin Hamid

Vinod Joseph — Sat, 5 Jul 2008 13:00:23 EDT

This monologue of a novel traces the journey of an upper class Pakistani-Punjabi youth from Lahore to Manhattan – and back. Changez, the protagonist, wins a scholarship to Princeton, lands a dream job at Underwood Samson, a very reputed valuation firm, dates Erica, a trophy WASP girl, rubs shoulders with the best of America, identifies with New York, and then gives it all up and returns to Pakistan.

Why does he do that? Because Changez realizes that he is a mercenary, not unlike the Janissary soldiers of the Ottoman Empire, trained from childhood to fight for the Sultan, even against their own homelands. Changez’s revolt starts after 9/11. When the World Trade Center towers fall, Changez is in Manila on work. Until then, Changez has nothing but admiration for Princeton, Samson Underwood and America in general. But when the twin towers fall, Changez is surprisingly happy. It takes him a bit of time to sort out his feelings, but soon he realizes that he identifies more with Pakistan and Muslims than with Americans or even New Yorkers. The antagonism towards Muslims post 9/11, America’s unwillingness to shield Pakistan when India threatens to invade Pakistan (in retaliation for terrorists attacking the Indian parliament) makes it easy for him to make the journey back to his roots.

The narration, addressed to a visiting American in a Lahori restaurant, is almost lyrical at times and is brilliant. Changez the protagonist does not make any attempt to understand the other side’s point of view. Not once does Changez find any fault with the Taliban or with Pakistani society, which is hardly egalitarian. While constantly blaming the US for not standing by Pakistan when threatened by India, the author does not for a moment pause to wonder whether Pakistan invited some of the trouble on itself by training the terrorists who attacked the Indian parliament. Until 9/11, Changez’s values are solidly rooted in the can-do liberal spirit of New York. But after the attack, he quickly slides into feudal values. Changez’s people have been attacked and he will have nothing more to do with the attackers. By staying on in New York and working for Samson Underwood, he will be helping America continue its attack on Afghanistan. So, even though he needs to hold on to his job very badly (so that he can help his once elite family stay on its feet), he quits his job and goes back to Lahore.

If Changez had lived in the US all his life instead of having moved there after finishing school in Pakistan, would he have behaved as he did? This is one of the numerous questions left unanswered. However, these gaps do not do the novel any harm as it unashamedly projects a single point of view in beautiful prose.

This novel is Mohsin Hamid’s second book. The first one, Moth Smoke was published eight years ago and won various awards and prizes, including the Betty Trask Award. The Reluctant Fundamentalist was (quite deservedly) shortlisted for the Booker Prize in 2007. I would recommend this book to anyone who wants to understand how a human being may react when his collective ego is hurt or his nationalistic feelings are bruised.

Dormant Poets Everywhere

temporal — Tue, 1 Jul 2008 15:06:09 EDT

We were going to the other end of town. There was chaos on the roads. Even though both of us had to be there on time there was no movement in sight. I suggested to the driver to pull over by a roadside shack and ordered some tea.

He was born in Karachi, Pakistan and his parents were from Swabi, in the North West.

Are you a reporter, he asked me. How do you conclude that? He pointed at my cameras and notebook. I told him I wrote poetry.

This shack was some distance from the road that locals called a highway. Even though it was supposed to be winter, the heat was piercing and made worse by the pollutants and dust covering us in a haze. The flies were oblivious to the pollution and went about their business with zeal. There was this big fly that circled the driver every two seconds and then came to rest on his cup. He ignored it. I kept waiving them away, and they would fly away and settle on the hair, ear, even the back of hand - audacious little things. The ever present cacophonous noise pollution was present also. Some drivers actually believe horns assist in braking. And the rickshaws have no silencers. People get used to talking as if in a crowd. You tend to notice these things.

I could never write a poem.

The traffic was not moving as far as I could see. Even the two-wheelers that tried to maneuver through the cars and trucks had come to a halt. I called the person I was visiting to apprise of the situation. She told me to have faith. I told her I had misplaced it decades earlier.

Yes you could. Anyone can write a poem.

'Nahin saab, mazaaq mut karo.'

Have you ever made pottery? Made? Created? There are Picassos and Michaelangelos and there are Ramus and Dittas. Am seeing in my mind the clay toys from Harappa and Moen jo Daro. The line between an artist and artisan has a common beginning. Was Picasso not a craftsman par excellence? Where is the boundary? Is there a boundary between craft and art?

Are you married? No.
Did you love someone? No.
Why this smile? Yo can be honest with me.
Saab....saab...the last place I worked... I liked the chothi memsahib.
Tell me about her, I told him and opened my notebook.

I was the second driver. My duties were driving the memsaab and chotimemsaab around. Her laughter still rings in my ears. She had a dimple when she smiled. He body smiled. She smelled fresh, innocent. She would not talk with others, but she talked a lot with me. I am unread. She was attending University. We poor cannot even dream. Even in dream I could not touch her. But I liked her and her smile always hovered in my thoughts. This is written in my destiny.

I am poor and unread
but that stops me not
from thinking about her
dimpled smile, fragrance
I cannot stop this thinking
but I cannot dream of her
I cannot dream about her
this is written in my destiny

I read back this to him. He shook his head and said, 'Saab you wrote this, I did not.'

My Initial Days In The US

Chaitanya S — Tue, 1 Jul 2008 01:50:58 EDT

I've been in the US for almost 50 days now and I have gained a lot each and every day. This country makes you realize your potential to grow and I have been taking advantage of it. As I look back to the day I arrived here, I truly feel I have changed and grown as a person.

But more about my weight later.

One of the first things that struck me was the kindness of the people here on campus. When I went for a routine medical check up, the kind lady at the reception asked me sweetly, "Are you an athlete?". I looked down at my perfectly portly frame and gave her the sweetest smile I've ever given anyone. "I'm not an athlete. But thanks for the compliment", I replied.

Out here, people have a fascination for drinks. No wonder I have been able to integrate myself so well. Though I haven't touched a drop of alcohol since leaving my homeland, I have not lost my empathy towards fellow drinkers. Once a drinker, always a drinker is my credo. When I accompanied a group of friends to a pub, we were asked for age identification at the entrance. Out here you need to be above 21 to even enter a pub. Trust me, when you are 26 and in the "matured" bracket, you take such questions as compliments.

When questioned on which degree I obtained in India, I am tempted to say B.E (Mech) + MS (Electronics) + Phd (Maths). With the number of times I've taken the Electronics and Maths exams during engineering, I think I'll be eligible for a masters and a post doc in those subjects respectively.

I think Americans have started identifying sacred places where one has to remove his shoes before entering. Though how airports and the ferry to the Statue of Liberty qualify as holy places, I am still trying to figure out. But I overheard someone standing in line to the ferry, pointing in our direction and saying, "it's because of them". I think he was talking about the integration of Indian culture in American society on the lines of yoga and meditation.

Back to my weight again and I've started applying my MBA principles to try and reduce it. I've compared my body to an industry, which is over staffed and needs trimming down to make it more efficient. I've read somewhere that trimming starts from the top. Some shedding has to be done pronto. My body is following the same pattern and the MBA has caused my hair to start shedding already. Maybe a bit of intelligence as well, but that's something I don't want to dwell upon.

I was playing racket ball the other day and it's a great stress buster. The game requires precision of timing and anticipation of speed to hit the ball well. The constant bouncing of the ball off the walls while smashing it back and forth was like a "Eureka" moment. Thankfully I didn't celebrate the moment like Archimedes. The cold evening air was not highly conducive to run naked in.

I took cue from some of my Ph.d friends here. Then, using my own experience and feedback from friends back in India, I engaged in some complex calculations to came up with a theory. It's called the "Rebound Theory".

It's a method which helps us realize the best time to approach a girl after she has broken up. Usually guys approach a girl when she has broken up and they have to hear "I'm not ready yet". That is so disappointing for them. By applying my theory, we can calculate the best time.

"For every 6 months of a relationship, rebounding will start after 30 days. The subsequent calculations can be done by direct proportion by splitting the time into years, months or days". For example, if a girl has been in a relationship for 2 years, she'll take 120 days to "move on". So approach her after 120 days.

All those who do not understand my theory do not deserve to try it. Those who do, try it out, it really works !

All the best !

P.S It doesn't work on guys !!!!!!

Dark Windows - Respecting Traffic Rules

DeeptiA — Mon, 30 Jun 2008 01:03:18 EDT

I really wonder sometimes about whether we should blame the ordinary citizen or the police when you see laws and rules being broken so easily in the country. I was witness to something that left me wondering about this question. We see traffic rules normally broken very casually on the roads (speed limit, usage of helmets and seat belts, drunk driving, red lights, etc); most rules are broken very easily. The sad part is that most of us are guilty at some point about breaking these rules and later blaming the police for being inactive and not enforcing the rules.

I had gone to an car accessories shop for some seat covers, and witnessed a number of vehicles parked there (hogging a lot of space in the market, but that is a different story), and employees of the shop busy fixing dark film on the windows of the cars. Now, once many years back, when the police had ruled that the dark films are not allowed on car windows, I had been ordered by my parents to be the one to remove the dark film It was a painful process, and I had always hesitated after that to fix dark films because of this reason.

Now, dark films look cool; they also aid in ensuring that the car does not get so heated up in summer. Unfortunately, the dark films also end up hiding the interior of cars; preventing a clear visibility of the inside. In some of the cases where a rape has been conducted inside a moving car in Delhi, the car has typically had dark film installed on the windows. It also prevents the Delhi police from being efficient in inspecting vehicles fast when they have information about criminals and terrorists. Hence, the police have decided that dark films will only be allowed up to a certain percentage of opacity.

The cars on which I could see the dark films were being installed were seemingly way beyond the level allowed by the Delhi police. When I asked one of the owners of the shop about this, he showed me a car on which the allowed level was being installed (it was in a minority). On further enquiry, he told me that most people request films more than what was allowed, and if he won't do it, others will. So, he runs a business and installs what they want.

Who is the person who is breaking the rule? Is it the car owner who will install whatever version of the dark film that he wants ; Is it the shop owner who agrees to install the non-compliant version of the dark films ; or have the police whose rules (and enforcement of the rules) become so ineffective that people no longer care for those rules?

Bangalore: Following the Kempegowda Tower Trail

Anuradha Goyal — Mon, 23 Jun 2008 10:01:07 EDT

There are a lot of things that seem too big today and there are things that are beyond our imagination at this point in time. But a few generations from now, our descendants might peep into our imagination and smile, try to imagine the world as we inhabited it and may be do a subtle comparison in their subconscious. This Sunday, I along with 3 co-explorers had similar experience. We decided to do a trail around the four Kempegowda towers in the four corners of the erstwhile Bangalore, erected by the Kempegowdas, chieftains of Yelahanka and nearby regions, sometime in mid 16th century when they founded the city of Bangalore. The Kempegowdas are said to have established their kingdom in 13th century with Yelanka as their capital. These towers in four directions were the limits to which the then kings thought that the Bangalore city may extend to. As you would see the trail today, all the four towers are very much in the core city and most of us may be actually living way outside these expected limits of the city.

As a part of the CouchSurfing community, there are a few trails that we are trying to create that help us discover the city that we live in. This is the second trail that we did after the Old Bangalore heritage walk. Now what was amazing was that at every tower we saw something more than just the tower. Each of the towers had a water body and a park close to it, though we are not very sure if it was the way when they were erected or if they were added at later dates. Each tower had the same stone stating exactly the same information about towers, though the information is clearly visible only on the stone in the Ulsoor tower.

We started at 6:30 AM in the morning and since most of us lived in the south of Bangalore, we decided to start from the south tower at Lalbagh. This also happened to be the only tower whose location we knew absolutely. I had been to this tower many a times, but this is the first time I went around it and looked at it more carefully. It is a structure with four pillars and a gumbaj on the top. On all four sides there are figurines of deities symbolizing their directions. There was Shiva in the south, Ganesha in the east, Karthikeya in the North and Vishnu in the west. There were two statues of each of these deities, the top one in sitting position and the bottom one in a standing position. This tower is mounted on a rock that is supposed to be one of the oldest rocks known in the world. It’s an easy climb and if the weather is good, it gives you a good view of the surroundings.

Early mornings in Lalbagh are always delightful, with fresh air, greenery, space, silence and whole lot of people doing the morning walks, yoga and exercises. There is a new gate being erected in Lalbagh in a Japanese / Chinese kind of architecture. As we walked along the pathways, we could hear some soothing music and unknowingly we started walking towards the music. And this was the surprise discovery that there was live music being played at the Band Stand. There was a lady, I was told her name is Shashikala, who was singing with people sitting around her informally. It was a delight to listen to that music right in the morning. As I looked around at the faces of the people who were listening to her, it almost gave a feeling of ‘moments to live for in life’.

After the south tower, it was the actual beginning of our discovery of towers. We proceeded towards the west tower with maps in our hands. We reached Chamrajpet and this is an area which none of us had ever visited before. By this time, the city had started waking up a little bit and I am sure this is the only time when we could drive almost without braking. We had to ask a few times for Kempebudhi Lake or kere as it is known locally. This tower is slightly dicy to find, as it is hidden among the trees and there are multiple structures around the lake that give you an impression of being the sought after tower. There is a kali temple at one end of the lake, KG tower is on a rock behind the temple. This was the worst maintained towers of all. There is a stairway to climb up to the tower, but you get good views of the city if you jump around on the rocks besides the tower. You get to see the topology of the city and see the houses on hillocks around that area. On this tower, there were altars for the all four sides of the gumbaj for the deities, but there were no idols, probably they have either been taken away or have withered away with time.

As you get down from the tower, you would notice two more ancient structures similar to the towers, but without any gumbaj. We tried to figure what they could be but all that we could make out was they were in alignment to the KG tower and were probably used to reach the tower at some point in time. Both these structures have a huge stone in the middle with a hole in it. The whole was smooth enough and gave an impression of being a mill stone.

Kempebudhi lake is a huge lake but is in a very bad shape. Ironically there is a decent pathway that surrounds the lake and leads to the West KG tower. On the other side of the lake is a BWSSB facility that also houses a nice park with a toy train with an engine that looks like steam engine. This was the surprise discovery around this tower. We understand there is a deer park also close to this tower, but we did not venture out to find that out.

Third tower in the North is near Mekhri circle, on C V Raman road and in a park called KG Tower Park. This should not be very difficult to locate, but we did go around a bit before we reached this tower. The tower stands in the middle of a well maintained garden, and is the best maintained tower. The upper part of the tower appears restored. This tower is mounted on a tiered platform. The carvings on this tower are little more intricate than the other towers. Unlike other towers this tower does not seem to be on an explicit elevation, but then the topology of the surroundings may have undergone a change over the centuries. The park timings are 5:00 – 9:00 AM and 4:00 – 8:00 PM. We reached around 10:00 AM and we thought we will have to view this tower from outside the boundary wall of the park, which was quite high for my height. But then we discovered a way to sneak into the park through a gate that was not so high.

On our way back from the tower we discovered the Ramanna Maharishi shrine in one corner of the park, which was open. And you can use the entrance of the shrine to enter the park if you happen to reach here when it is not open. The shrine has a golden statue of Ramanna Maharishi in a big hall with interestingly done roof. It was a quite place and there was just one Pujari there and no one else. Probably you can sit inside this shrine and meditate after a good morning walk in the park. This was the unexpected discovery at this tower.

Between the third and fourth tower we had to stop and respond to out hunger pangs. We stopped at the Jayamahal palace hotel for a breakfast, which was almost as serene as the KG Park with north tower. The breakfast was ok, but we had a chance to read the morning paper, chat a bit, as till now we were all deciphering the maps and trying to match them with the known one-ways to reach from one tower to another.

Fourth or the east tower is also easy to reach as it is at an one end of the Ulsoor lake. You have to go towards the Old Madras road after crossing the Ulsoor Gurudwara. This lake is owned by Madras Sappers, a division of Indian Army, and hence it is usually inaccessible for general public. But it seems the luck was in out favor this Sunday and there was a national rowing competition going on, and we could enter and climb up to the tower without any hassles. Like the south and the west tower, this tower is also on top of a rock and gives a panoramic view of the lake. Like the west tower, this tower also had empty altars. We got to see the national junior rowing championship, reminded me of my long forgotten sports days and participation in such competitions.

We finished around 12:00 Noon and it felt like having lived through a period. There was a joy of discovery when we saw the west tower, there was thrill when we managed to enter the park with north tower, there was serenity in listening to music right in the morning and there was a feeling of serendipity when we saw the Madras Sappers gate open for East tower. And there was a sense of satisfaction completing this trail that we had been planning to do for sometime now.

If you take a comfortable pace, with a breakfast break, the trail should take 4-5 hours, provided you go in non-peak hours.

Some links that helped us design this trail:

History of Bangalore

Kempegowda Trail on Google Maps