Goodbye

This blog has run its course and I'm ready to let go of it. It would have been nice to not let this last post be any longer than the first two-line blog I wrote but there are more things to say. I want to thank everybody who ever came here, everyone who managed to sort through the mush of readable and unreadable posts, everyone who wrote back to me and everyone who came back again for more. I have been very thankful for all your attention. I don't want to stop writing but when I do, it won't be like this blog. This was like school and it's time for college. I'm taking some inspiration from this year's Nobel prize winner who published her first book at 37. If I ever start a blog again, I hope you stumble upon it one more time.

Goodbye and cheers,

Ellie and I wish you a happy Diwali!

 

See the cute little face and the worried puppy eyes?  Make it a noiseless Diwali!

Pondi Post II

                                The friendly, neighbourhood snake that turned up for breakfast.

One of the things that I appreciate very much in retrospect about Pondicherry is that they let animals be. Nature is mostly left untouched and allowed to take its course in the protected areas of Auroville. It's nice to go to a place in India where humans are not busy hating, killing other creatures only to make more space for themselves. I say this because I have a little pup here in a city that doesn't have any public places where she can go walking without strangers complaining.

The sea has long inspired painters, poets and writers and I was reminded of the reason why, as I stood on the promenade watching the waves crash into the rocks. The sea can't be conquered or exploited to extinction like everything else.

We weren't allowed to take any pictures at Sri Aurobindo's ashram. The area around has lots of large French buildings, well laid out and wide, clean streets. At Bureau central which is the first stop for visitors looking to visit the ashram, we procured a map and useful directions from a very polite staff.

Now, I come to the part which I was most interested in during this visit. Sri Aurobindo played a major role in the early days of the freedom struggle when the idea of independence had not deeply resonated with the general, poor populace of India. He was one of the most well-known and important leaders of the time, working hard to establish resistance groups in India until he withdrew completely from the struggle in 1910 after a hard stint in jail, to go on to establish his ashram for meditation and spiritual awakening in Pondicherry. The part of the ashram that I visited houses the samadhi or graves of Sri Aurobindo and the Mother. The lady who is revered and remembered as the Mother was a French woman who became a follower and companion to Sri Aurobindo and adopted this country as her own. She was also the visionary behind the idea of Auroville along with the architect, Roger Anger. That according to me was her best work. We left the ashram with a collection of poetry by Sri Aurobindo, Savitri. I went to the ashram more in search of stories and its rich history rather than seeking spiritual solace in their brand of meditation. That is not to say, that I disapprove of the teachings and path followed by the holy figures. I don't have an opinion on it as I did not try it. Maybe someday, I'll write a post about all the different kinds of meditation I've tried in India and my opinion on the various episodes.

Roaming around in the French quarters and at the promenade took us to the best views of the sea, the French architecture and even a war memorial, but, our steps faltered at the Hidesign hotel on the Promenade which has a fantastic view of the sea from their premises. I also tried out and liked the little cafes and bakeries that we found scattered on our walking route.

                                          The magnificent Gandhi statue on the Promenade

Let's pretend there isn't an auto obstructing the view in the picture, okay?

My last day was spent at Paradise beach, a long way away from our guest house in Auroville. The ride in our over laden, security disaster of a boat was fun and gave us the opportunity to take these:

 

     








I am not very inclined to recommend Paradise beach, it closes early by 5:00 PM (as do most beaches in Pondi) and seems to be fun only if you're staying at the Paradise beach resorts. If you're a day visitor to the beach, the larger part of it is cordoned off with red flags and guards who don't allow you beyond a point. There are two shacks to order food from that don't look very appealing. Also, the boat sailors don't seem to follow any safety regulations in carrying people across to the little island where the beach is situated. They are always over laden and have significantly lesser flotation suits than the number of people they carry. Go to watch only the strong sea waves, if you're not paranoid about accidental drowning.

During the time that we stayed at Auroville, they were hosting a short film festival that seemed really good apart from lots of workshops for woodwork, wax work and other handicrafts made of locally produced raw material. A special mention about the incense manufacturing at Auroville, I brought back a lovely earthy fragrance that I haven't found anywhere else before called, Mattipal. I had a grand time cycling and shopping at Auroville on my last day. I loved these little touches.

               

This was a really tiring but refreshing and satisfying vacation. Everybody that we talked to was warm and polite in conversation. The hot weather in the day would suddenly turn stormy in the evenings and I would sit outside looking at the forests in the rain, watching little streams of water run down the sides of trees. It was very relaxing.                                                                                                                                             

                                                                                                                                       

I came back to Bangalore with aching muscles, puffy eyes and yet a satisfied mind. I hope to see more of India in the next few months. This experience has made me want more and more travel, given me lots of         lovely memories and food for thought. I wish everybody reading a similar vacation!                                        

Pondi Post!

                                       

                     View from the sea wall at the Promenade

My heart still bursts with joy when I think of my four-day long trip to Pondicherry. It was so amazing that I've spent nearly a month racking my brains to think of the most perfect way to write about it in this post so it may come close to describing how longingly I miss and look back at that time. Now, I've decided that looking for perfection in words doesn't really add any value to what was already a perfect experience, so I'm on free-flow from here on. I must first thank my awesome friend, Yameen, who also happens to be a fantastic blogger for pushing me to take this vacation and for making this a wonderful time for all of us by patiently taking lots of pictures and holding all our bags and purchases as we shopped.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                            

Pondicherry didn't turn out to be anything like I'd thought it would be. Looking back, I realize that I ended up there without really any preparation or research about the kind of place it would be. It was all for the best. The train journey from Bangalore was comfortable and we were there quite early in the morning to start our day with a nice, piping hot verbal duel with an auto driver over fares to Auroville. Since our faces bore the invisible stamp "tourist", he decided to drop us about a kilometer away from our actual destination after overcharging us. The beautiful, pleasant walk to the Visitor's centre in the only bit of tamed greenery in Auroville made up for everything and we dragged our suitcases to reach a quaint little coffee shop at the Centre. There were two extra things on offer apart from the coffee, a magnificent view of tall green trees and Quiet - a steady, peaceful, morning time quiet that was only broken occasionally by the chirping birds. I solemnly swear, I did not copy this from an early century novel.    

 Auroville is mostly a  forest with all kinds of guest houses and small local settlements. Online, it is described as an experimental town where no religion or politics interferes in the life of its residents. The place itself is inhabited by people of many different nationalities, chiefly Indians and Italians. I think of it as a little handicrafts village trying to be a place for relaxation and meditation with the main attraction being a temple called the Matrimandir. I didn't take any pictures of the large golden-coloured globe in the middle of Auroville cause I wasn't really sold onto the idea. Pondicherry is Sri Aurobindo's town and I noticed the propensity of everyone and everything related to his organization to claim to not be interested in commerce or entertaining tourists but only genuine visitors to the ashram who wanted to take back things other than expensive handicrafts. They have some lovely stores selling beautiful handicrafts and also dresses, shoes, bags, beauty products etc. I am not being critical and I see nothing wrong in business. I bought plenty of things myself but you're either a business enterprise or you're not. It's a bit hypocritical to pretend you're not, when you're doing everything to attract shopping tourists, especially the foreign ones with the deeper pockets. Auroville has plenty of daytime entertainment. Notice, I say only daytime. The place shuts down at sunset and doesn't have any street lamps at night in most places. Even the eating places close early and if you're staying at Auroville as we did, you might go to bed without dinner, if you didn't prepare. Now for some more pictures.

Speaking of shopping, it was a good day for a hat.

We stayed at a lovely guest house called Afsana in Auroville, I have never seen a more beautiful, well-maintained guest house than this. We took a Japanese cottage that was encircled by a moat full of fishes and frogs and to our great surprise, one morning, even slender water snakes. The water was clear and we could see right through it at all the colorful creatures that swam in it all day long. The pictures will tell you everything.

 

Afsana does not have any lunch or dinner, so we set out that first morning walking in the mud paths at Auroville looking for a Ganesh Bakery, that we'd found on the map. This was the hardest bit of my entire trip because we got lost numerous times in the forest and I'm not a big fan of walking for hours in the sun...or the rain. Walking in the rain is overrated. We finally gave up this adventure and decided to call a taxi to drop us at the bakery. I must put in a word about the taxis at Auroville. The service is good and polite but fares for small distances of a kilometer or two are exorbitant. You can't really protest, it's not meant for 'tourists'. I assume that the management at Auroville thinks genuine visitors to the temple must prove their faith this way. Back to Ganesh Bakery, the food here was freshly made and I must put it on record that I had this amazing chocolate dosa.

                 Taken too late, but you see the brown goo oozing out of the dosa on the right?

As the clock strikes 1:00 am and I watch Ellie sleep, my resolve wavers and I've decided to make this a post in parts. Part II - Sri Aurobindo ashram - coming tomorrow.

      

New roommate!

Proudly introducing, Ellie, the devourer of ropes and strings! She is also my new roommate. I have already imagined all the long walks, the night time prowling, the slipper ripping, the tantrums and the welcome homes that lie in my years ahead. We are going to get old together!

September

September wasn't an easy month, but it had it's high points - like this cycle ride in Pondicherry. So, my dear, sweet reader, I shall torment you with the plagues of the world no more this week. Pondi post coming through!!

The night is darkest just before dawn.

Every bitch for herself

I used to be the proud co-care person for a little dog. When Janis first came to us in late 2009, I had just started a tough job and was living a rather chaotic, stressful life in Bangalore. The most wonderful moments of the day were after coming home to see her. Too soon though, it was time to be separated from her and she had to go live with our parents because I moved to a different part of the world succumbing to the lure of a better life in a foreign country. I missed her a lot but realized that she wasn't doing too badly for the move. At home with my parents, she had a lot of space and green lawns to run around in and my doting, overly indulgent Dad who took her on as a third daughter the moment he first saw her. But there is something else that I now observe in her when I visit her during vacations. She seems to have a brilliant understanding of my mother and a reverential respect for her commands. Janis is an exceptionally naughty dog when she's around my sister or me, with my Dad she seems to become a thug but with my Mum she is a bashful, shrinking violet. Like all dogs she hates taking baths, even warm ones and loves to roll around in the dirt in the garden every chance that she can manage following it up with rolling on our sofa in the middle of the night when she feels nobody is watching her. Nowadays, she doesn't roll around in the mud anymore and we found out the reason for this new found restraint, from our mother who casually mentioned to us one day that she managed to get Janis to obey her by simply dragging her to the bath after every adventure on the garden floor. Janis stopped her mud escapades because she dreaded the bath after and came to see my Mum as someone who had to be obeyed over everybody else in the family.

Ironically, my own behaviour closely resembles that of my dog though our 'adversaries' are not the same. As I have a great deal of idle time these days, I've been advised by my friends to make as much as I can of the opportunity to be outdoors because there won't be as much time to do whatever I like when I start work again. This advice seemed quite pleasant on the surface. For young people living on a budget, one of the cheapest ways to kill time is to take long walks. This might sound like a perfectly harmless way to spend time, except that it is not. I feel unsafe on the roads of Bangalore even in the daytime in a way that I've never felt before. The moment I step out of my house, I feel the staring, leering glances of everyone from young teenage boys to toothless old men boring into my skin. Their malevolent smiles make me want to curl up into myself so my body can't be seen. Taking a walk means meticulous precautions, wrapping up in baggy layers and scarves in mild, pleasant weather while trying to look confident in a hostile, threatening environment. It is such a paradox. On one hand, I feel that I should exercise my rights to enjoy and walk on the street and on the other I seem to have unconsciously trained myself to not make eye contact with anyone, walk very fast and try and shrink into invisibility when in a crowd of strangers and clutch my pepper spray tightly whether I'm walking on the road or sitting in an auto. I now go out only to reach destinations unscathed. I've done away with any expectation of enjoying the journey itself. How is one supposed to enjoy the fresh air or long walks if one is continuously on tenterhooks to fend off street harassment? A particularly unpleasant experience on Church street last week has triggered this post. My sister and I had just stopped our auto as we reached Church street near MG road when we saw a man outside give us a very revolting, lecherous look as he evaluated us from head to toe. He then proceeded to make gestures and sing a song as we got off the auto. At this point, my sister, couldn't contain her anger any longer and yelled at him to behave himself. The man promptly came uncomfortably close to us and started to abuse us loudly, even raising his hands as if he would beat us up. We ran for dear life as he yelled after us for the street to hear while not one passer-by came to help us. A few paces away, we saw a Constable stationed on the road and immediately went to him and told him about the man. The Constable beckoned to the man to come to him. Then something quite unexpected happened, the man walked up to the Constable in a huff and started yelling at the Constable to mind his own business. He asserted to the police that he could do anything he liked in the public space and nobody could stop him. Imagine how our confidence grew. After a few minutes of watching this, we were frightened enough to abandon our plans and quickly escape the area through a different route in case we were followed home by the man. We came home feeling rather miserable with ourselves, unsure if we should have done more or less, in this situation. People told us that we should have ignored this man from the start. But, we think, that the risk in talking to the police was not an unfavourable one at the outset because this happened in daylight and among a crowd. I didn't realize that molesters were bold enough to intimidate the police these days. I would never row in an isolated place, not that the crowd was any security in this situation.

Gradually, Janis has evolved a mechanism to stay away from my mother's path when there's cleaning going on in the house. She doesn't go out in the lawn without permission anymore and seems to have consciously or unconsciously chosen to stay in her little box when my Mum is about to clean the place so she doesn't get noticed and called for a bath. She is quite happy when my father returns home from work and roams around wherever she pleases in his company.

Between the two of us, Janis obviously has the safer life in a home where she is loved and is actually safe though she voluntarily takes certain measures to be in the good books of the mistress of the house. Her world is small and the only 'challenge' in her life is to avoid her weekly bath. I promise I am only slightly amused by this strange parallel and by the realization that I have unconsciously developed almost the same kind of shield to protect myself in my bigger world where I feel constantly unsafe, objectified and the weak prey for whoever may decide to harass or molest me on any given day. It is the cold, stinging shower I am forced to take everyday. I cannot stop in a street to look about me at the sights or talk to strangers or even help people in need. I have once been stopped on the road by a school boy who addressed me as 'Didi' and asked for directions. After I'd given him directions, he grinned at me, flashed himself and thanked 'sexy'.

I know I'm not the only one who suffers this. I have seen girls walking alone or in big groups get molested, stalked, harassed, groped in so many millions of ways and by so many different strangers that after all these years my first reaction is that of fatigue. After the fatigue comes virulent, blinding rage, when people,especially, women come and tell me and other girls that we should have been more careful. More careful. I refuse to take any blame or responsibility for the weakness of a man's mind and yet I choose to do everything I can to protect myself by limiting my own freedom and my wishes.

There's much to write about on this issue. I wrote once before that we'd probably be a more peaceful race if we saw each other as humans first instead of as genders or sexual organs or spoils to be conquered. The future might not become worse for young girls if a little care could be taken in our homes now. It is entirely upon young parents today and what they teach their little boys and girls about how much and what they are entitled to in the world. Please do your daily bit to not unleash another young creep upon the world over time so young girls do not feel compelled to hide in boxes.

The Gender Handicap

As our civilization grows older, our lives have become easier than ever before but it seems to me that all this growth and innovation is only one dimensional for most people, even the educated ones. One thing I've recently learnt from my sister is that as you advance and improve your life and accumulate new things for your comfort, it is also important to dispose off the old, non-functional things to make your personal space orderly and clutter-free (in other words house-cleaning!). I think this extends to the mind as well. I find it's very important to purge your mind of rubbish, especially most of the rubbish passed down over generations. In the last few days, looking about me makes me feel that in an effort to be male and female, we frequently forget how to be humans.

Human values apply to everybody but gender values differ for every gender, are usually unfair to the those involved and I believe are very limiting. A scene I once observed on a crowded bus comes to mind. It was a rare, blistering hot day in Bangalore. A large family boarded the same bus as me, it consisted of a set of grand parents and their two sons and wives with their small children. All three women, young and old were wearing sarees with a ghunghat or veils drawn over their faces. Their obvious discomfort in this situation made me realize how our established gender related obligations have no regard for human vulnerabilities. If your life is difficult already, then be sure that it could become worse if you live around members of the gender police. If you're a man, you'll be ridiculed if your likes/dislikes are not manly enough, if you don't establish your masculinity through random acts of machismo, if you'd like to leave your job to look after the children while your wife works, if you participate in house decoration, and don't you dare cry in public or dress bright or 'girly'! If I started the strictures on how a woman ought to behave, this post would never end and I have garbage to throw out early in the morning.

All I'm trying to say is that things would be so much better around us if we looked at people around us as humans first before throwing the gender book at them. If everybody was human first empathizing with each other for wanting the same basic things in their lives, we wouldn't be thwarted by our genders while trying to pursue the same basic goal. People wouldn't have to suffer in the heat on crowded buses because their father-in-law shouldn't see their hair. Everyone could make a comfortable journey to the end.

The road from #597 to #6757

I am on the brink of joining the elite company of people who take great pride in having a number associated with their name in public records! Yay!

Excuse me while I take a moment to throw humility out of the window and sniff on my vanity salts. Woosh!

There. Now, if you're bored and have loads of time to kill, you'll be able to look me up here very soon. I'm not there yet but I've gleefully jumped the gun and decided to announce this to the general populace anyway.
:D

Cheers to the girl who passed!

P.S. I was number 597 on the day I was born.

A tale of two snacks.

A few moons ago in Bangalore, an unexpected crowd of thousands of people was jostling its way into the platforms on Bangalore city railway station hoping to find a place in the few trains to Assam even as the state home minister appeared on the station loudspeaker urging these people to return to their homes in the city, trying to make them believe that they were safe. This sudden urge to flee the city was caused by continuous rumours that had been circulating in the days preceding to this sudden mass exodus which threatened people from the north-east about the safety and well being of their families and businesses in the city.

I was walking down a busy footpath next to the local park last week and I was reminded of this incident from last year as I saw the numerous momo stalls along the footpath which seemed to have cropped up overnight along this stretch that I happen to frequent. I counted and there were almost ten of these little momo stalls all run by people from the north east states. They seem to appear at about 7pm and are nowhere to be found by 9:30pm.

Among these momo stalls, I have a particular favourite when I find myself craving for vegetarian steamed momos after gym. He's the closest on my path and also the only one on the short walk after the park. This particular evening, I found him sharing a large umbrella with a Bihari golgappa/pani puri seller . It might seem silly but I found it very heart-warming when the pani puri seller helped my momo guy with some packing and finally some change to give to me. I know it's regular business for them but how often do we forget that we all need and complement each other. I believe in the importance of these little gestures which seem trivial on the surface. All this hate of each other based on the differences in our facial features, cultures, colours and religions is detrimental to nobody's well being except our own.

Maybe business is the best way to unite people and to get rid of all the baggage of prejudices we have from our ancestors about all the communities that we are not born into ourselves.

I am especially affected by the way my north eastern friends are continuously treated by people from my own region. I once watched in horror when an auto rickshaw driver in Bangalore threatened a friend of mine telling her he'd bash her face with an iron rod if she didn't pay him extra fare over the pre-paid amount that she'd been told to pay by the traffic constable on duty on M.G. road. Foreigners like her had to pay extra, she was told.

With all this on my mind, when I see people from the north east who generally keep themselves to their own groups (with good reason), feeling comfortable enough to mix with people from other regions, I feel hope for this country. I hope they continue to mix and stay together, only if it's just to sell. I love both momos and pani puri!

In the last few days I've found myself oscillating between different pieces of writing. I have an unfinished poem describing the comforts of using reason in daily life, a little scene from Independence day, a note about people from the North-east India and even a post on bindis. Where is all this writing, you may wonder.

When the mind isn't at rest, it finds no solace in completing anything that isn't immediately alleviating its worry. Without alarming any one too much, I'd like to stress that I am only a teensy bit worried and I'm doing very well. In fact, during this time I've come up with my own special concoction of green tea laced with a tiny portion of rum to keep me happy while I keep shuffling between various books that I am trying to read. The job will come when it comes, I've decided.

I felt the need to share this very brave story.

Love isn't my favorite subject to blog about but a lot of men and women need to be told that love shouldn't come in their lives with asterisks. The writer says some very important things about not involving yourself in relationships where you're asked to change, or give up other important relationships out of your life or follow rules that someone else lays down for you. It's all about how you feel you should be treated for the rest of your life. Some one once said that once you've compromised on the quality of an important relationship, you are much likelier to compromise on the quality of almost everything else in your life.

The next project

I have finally laid my hands on my grandfather's old copy of Ulysses. It has been on my mind for a while now even though I've been actively discouraged to read this book until I'm 50. Apparently, the book is so layered, rich, intellectual and generally amazing that I will only be able to truly appreciate it after I'm older. Well, as you know the best way to make someone do something is by telling them not to do it. I hope to write about it when I've finished it which might take a while seeing how thick, a tome it is. Then if it lives up to its reputation, I'll read it again at 50 and write about it again. Sounds good, I think.

P.S. In case you're wondering why there's a pretentiously positioned fountain pen on the book, I wasn't trying to make it look as if I wrote the book (as one person suggested!). I was just rather happy when I took the picture and so that's two things that make me happy. A book and a nice pen.