Showing posts with label friendship. Show all posts
Showing posts with label friendship. Show all posts

Monday, March 29, 2010

Journey to the center of the Earrrrrrth - Chronicles of a day trip - Part 1

Friday marked the end of academic pursuits at ISB. Which meant that Saturday would mark the beginning of fun pursuits post ISB. And true to expectation, we decided to kick start our week of fun with a ... wait for it... day trip to Srisailam. So after a day filled with fun, I sit down with aching calves, legs refusing to move, my back in love with my pillow, and even my thumbs and fingers groaning, to recount our exploits. So here is the story of our JOURNEY TO THE CENTER OF THE EARRRRRRRTH as Random would say. A sneak preview - it involves rock sightings, a boat ride, a drive through a forest, a temple, tap dancing in the heat, a beautiful forest, rivulets, waterfalls, pleasant chats and a broken shoe.

Now Srisailam is rather far from Hyderabad. All of 240 km, with most of the route under forest cover and over hills. Look at the pic alongside -
So, being inspired by pictures put up by some friends on Facebook (talk about web 2.0), we went. It felt good buying goodies that evening - bread, cheese, Sprite, water, chips - basic sustenance. Reminded me of our midnight shopping trip to Hanamasa prior to the Fuji expedition! So, armed with goodies, a printout of the places we wanted to see around Srisailam, and the enthusiasm of a 5 year old going on board a ferry, we set off at 5 am (yes, we decided to leave at 5 and all 4 WOMEN left at 5. Hah! to all those trip groups with men and women who plan to leave at 4 and leave at 6 instead!!!).

We left before the crack of dawn, and were aided by empty roads. Some decided to catch up on lost sleep, and some others like me, aided by a small caffeine shot in the morning, chose to keep awake and catch up on my recently added songs. Holiday mood, you see. The road was long, there were mild winds, and soon enough, the sky cracked and a smiling sun showed its mild orange face. It was gorgeous. This was when we, rather, Random decided to call our trip the JOURNEY TO THE CENTER OF THEEE EARRRRRRTH. I wish I had that pronunciation button that comes up on Wikipedia. Speaking of wikis, we realized where the makers of wikipedia got the idea for meta.css. Look here - Yup, you do get to see quite a few beautiful things if you wake up early in the morning. But in our case, I guess our dreams are prettier and so, we maximize our utility and sleep longer, since the marginal utility of waking up early is losing out on better looking dreams, which we'd rather not do. Yay! so done with the rambling for this post. Back to the EARRRRRTH now... So, on we went, playing music of DCH, Lakshya, and singing along nice and loud. The key word is LOUD. We thoroughly enjoyed the morning. It was a simple loooooong drive, and as we went on, the rock formations just kept getting better. At times we wondered how those boulders defied Newton and balanced themselves so perfectly up there. Pretty soon, we decided that it was time for our dose of caffeine and typical road trip style, we stopped at a nondescript tea stall. Tiny tapri that served some perfectly delicious tea in tiny cups! And the minute we took out our cameras, the people in the shop - owners or otherwise felt obliged to pose...

Soon, it started getting hot, and we approached the Rajiv Gandhi Tiger reserve area. If only there were more than 1411 tigers, we might have seen the occasional tiger as well, as we drove Safari style through the forest area. The roads were phenomenal. Trees were a sober brown, heralding the start of the hot season. But altogether, they made the picture look very beautiful. Pretty soon, we entered the ghat section, and I must say, the Eastern Ghats are a lot less punishing than their Western counterparts. They do go winding, but not many sharp hairpin bends, and a lot less painful!

And then, we reached our first spot of the day! Patala Ganga - a small river-like water body, that comes out of the dam on the Krishna river at Srisailam. The USP of this spot is, the boat ride that one can take in a round basket-like boat, from the steps to the place where the rapids begin. Clearly this place is not frequented by several people and so, there were hardly any crowds. Random had suggested that we do this first, else the sun would begin pelting down on us like no one's business and ostensibly, she was right! Thank God we did the boat ride between 9.30 and 10.30 am! We needed to bargain our way here and who better than one with the subtle seasonings of Saddi Dilli??!!?? So M got us a deal we couldn't refuse. She actually got us the ride at one fourth the usual price and the four of us set sail. I say set sail, since it sounds sweet and I know I shan't use that phrase anywhere else, EVVVVER!

The ride was beautiful, and the round boat goes bobbing up and down, directionless, and you can go swiveling on it, whenever you want! All of us, also got our photo op with the oar and we could take a number of pictures of the dam, the bridge and beyond, from this perfect vantage point. And from the water, the upturned boats on the shore looked like giant turtles, as M remarked. The only flip side was the continuous chatter of our boatman. Every 2 minutes, he'd start his plea for more money. It started with stories about how he was starting afresh, to how he was a helper in a greater game. At one point I was tempted to rattle off Shakespeare's 'All world's a stage' dialogue to him, and had to try real hard to refrain from doing so. So, a serene and not so quiet boat ride later, we got back, had our pictures taken and were ready to start leg 2 of our trip.
And this is where I'll pause part 1, for fear of making this post toooo long. Watch this space for the section on the temple, tap dancing, glades in a forest, waterfalls, rivulets and the broken shoe... Yes broken shoe...

Saturday, February 13, 2010

My Avatar

Long long time ago; Well, not really that long ago, I'd put in a piece on the perils of social networking. Right here - 'The perils of the social network'.

Yup! FB is addictive. And with Buzz on Gmail, I guess I am a vociferous entity online, completely against the demure dame I am in real life. Ok, don't blame me, but demure dame seemed too good to resist writing! Anyway, on one of my thoughtful jaunts, which I somehow undertake only on FB, I posted a random thought - 'What have I turned into'. The responses were immediate. 'Crackpot', ' Caffeine-addicted thought centered maniac', 'human being', and so on. While I guffawed and grunted at these answers, what amazed me, was the ripple effect a single inane thought could trigger. And that is indeed the power of Web 2.0, as it is called. Within minutes news spreads, the feedback is immediate, almost, and the collaborative effect is huge.

But this same thought also made me think again. Yeah, I do nothing else but think! So, I'd just recently seen the movie Avatar, and the concept of a man telebonding with his blue Navi Avatar was cool. But interestingly, we're all doing the same thing. One human being has numerous Avatars. One on Orkut, one on Facebook, one on Blogger, one on twitter, one on Flickr, one on Picasa. Sometimes, they're all one avatar. But many-a-time, since these avatars are not created concurrently, they are all different, and also have privacy rules set such that specific target audiences alone get to see em! Oh yeah! I am many Navi people :)

All this is great. Jason Bourne has 5 passports, and I have 5 identities online. But there have to be flip sides right? Like Bourne has the passports and cash, but no memory and a Carlos/ Stepan Spalko/ Fadi in hot pursuit. So, social networking, while great has one major flip. And that is the fact that this cuts out real social bonding. And the funniest thing happened to me some time back. I got an FB friend request from this chap in my class. I knew his face, but we'd never really interacted. And now, I was in a fix. If I'd ignored the request, I'd look like a conceited snob. If I accepted, well, how could I, I didn't really know him! But then, out of guilt at not being more socially active in trying to know everyone around me, I accepted the request. And then, Tadaaaa..... the next day, I went to get myself a coffee, and this chap walked right in front of me. I smiled, a big smile of recognition, of friendship, of long lost kinship, of.. ok, you get the point. And what happened next, made me, rather makes me want to go jump off into that water body behind the chai wali tapri. (More on chaai wali tapri later, right now, focus on big picture please). So, as I flashed my 1000 watt smile, this guy, my newly added friend on FB, gave me a puzzled, perplexed look. A look that said in no less words, 'DO I KNOW YOU?????'

And that is where the perils of the social network came crashing down on me. I decided, 'No more conscience/ guilt driven social networking. For me, Facebook shall no longer remain just my book of FACES. Before accepting a friend request, I will ensure I say one real HI to the target first and then Facebook him/ her. At least I can prevent jumping off into a smelly water body and getting drenched up to the ankles!

I read somewhere, that people were moving from emails to Twitter. And I thought. Wow! From the Greek running messengers to pigeons, to smoke signals, to post, courier and email. And when emails started, people lamented the fact that handwriting grew murkier by the day. The emotion that manifests itself in the written hand, suddenly was lost. And now, we are moving from the written word to the Twittered word. So, I guess v nd 2 b prepped 2 read msgs dat luk like German txts or Hebrew codes, going fwd. I can only imagine how bful all dis wld luk n only wish my English teacher cld c how gr8 my riting skills r in dis currnt mode of comm.

Saturday, December 19, 2009

Livin it up... ISB style

Solstice is here, the annual Alumni meet here on the ISB campus. And today was yet another amazing evening. In fact we were looking forward to tonight, since we were supposed to experience a true musical extravaganza. And none of us left disappointed!
We began with the '09 band singing their trademark songs, followed by our very own Conjoint dishing out GNR, MJ and Metallica numbers. Some songs are absolute beauties, timeless wonders indeed - Beat it, Eye of the tiger, Sweet child 'o mine for instance. And then just as we began to think that the evening couldn't possibly get any better, well, it got better than the best! Raghu Dixit was in the house!! And mannnnnn Indian non-film music can be gooddddddd... They started off with Hey Bhagwaan and moved on to Mysore se aayi and a couple of Kannada folk songs. And then when they went on to 'I am in Mumbai, waiting for a miracle', almost all of us Bambaiyyas in the crowd went along holler lane! Vivid images of Maximum city played out in front of our eyes as we heard that song. And then we had the best song of the evening in 'Har saans mein, har dhadkan mein ho tum'. The crowds went completely ballistic. When the band announced the last song, the crowds yelled for more. The atmosphere was electric. There were lazer beams flashing around, true rock show style, but the psychedelic colors paled in front of the enthusiasm of the crowds. Chants of 'once more once more' went up, louder than ever. And the band complied. Not once, but time and time again. The crowds sang along, screamed along, danced, jumped, and completely LIVED IT UP! A show that was to go on from 9.30 to 12.30 went on all the way till 2 am! And the crowds never tired. The youthfulness was palpable, and almost everyone had shed off all veneers of maturity and gentility, almost going back to the carefree days of undergrad and school!

And it didn't end there. A bunch of us took off to the roof garden to take in the festivities from over a 100 meters above sea level! And I must say, the view from the top, is BEAUTIFUL. Humming and besura singing of the Raghu Dixit songs we had just heard was on with full gusto. Not only were we high up above the ground, we were also clearly high on life! And this is the way we live it up at ISB. We work hard and play harder. And we enjoy every minute of it. And these memories are what we'll take along as we move on. At the end of the day, we say to these moments - 'HAR SAANS MEIN, HAR DHADKAN MEIN HO TUM'.....

Saturday, November 28, 2009

Life is in the details

Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens
Bright copper kettles and warm woolen mittens
Brown paper packages tied up with strings
These are a few of my favorite things...

This is one of my favorite songs, not just for the movie, or the music, but for the lyrics themselves. Put alone, one really wouldn't pay too much attention to raindrops on roses - you'd probably want to run home and escape the rain. Or for that matter brown paper packages - you'd rather rip the package open to see what's inside. But the things mentioned in the song, are small, everyday things that are... for the lack of a better word... sweet!

So some say that the devil is in the detail, I say that life is in the details. Managers tell us to focus on the big picture all the time. So in life, we look for the big house, the big car, the big career, everything! But somewhere down the road, when you have a minute of reflection time, you don't think of that BMW in your garage or your palatial villa in the French Riviera. You think of that rainy day when you sat drenched with a few friends in an Irani restaurant with a cutting chaai. You think of the classes in school where you convinced the prof to give time off so you can play dumb charades. You think of that one night where you sat with friends playing truth and dare all the way to the morning! Yes, life resides in the details.

The number of places where tea has lodged itself into my slot of unique memories is huge! The 12.30 random tea with a friend after a gruelling assignment. A 2.30 tapri chaai after a crappy movie. The piping hot cuppa after stepping into the house from sub zero temperatures. The insane desire to drink tea in the backyard after a first sighting of snow! The 4 am tea with a friend complaining about a painful project client. The memories are plenty. But the core anchor is not just the tea, but the company.

So, life is in the smaller things in life. It is not always a big picture story. A walk in a nippy weather, with a random conversation sitting atop a rock, talking about books, life, friends, people, is a memory that will be cherished forever. A movie with a bunch of friends within the confines of a campus, on a surprisingly, relatively free evening is divine. At the end of the day, its these things that I would want to look back on and smile at, and think back about a life well lived.

Friday, October 30, 2009

Of valuing friends and everlasting friendship

A lovely weather- a slight nip in the air, a crisp evergreen smell in every breath you take - is by and far the next best thing to piping hot coffee on a rainy day. And a walk taken in such weather elicits sufficient thoughts, if the mind is allowed to think. So today, during such a walk, my thoughts centered around the virtue called friendship.

Friendships, people say are important because they are one's own making. No one can force us to be friends with someone, nor can anyone force us to not be friends with someone. Who we choose, how we choose, why we choose is entirely of our own making and volition. So in a way, it is a big deal, since we almost pool in life's experiences and our value systems when we pick our friends. Doesn't seem like we put in so much of thought before extending that hand of friendship.

Which then brought me to my line of thought today. Why are friends valued differently by different people? If it is such a big deal, whereby one's value systems and learning of life are literally being tried out, why do some people make the folly of choosing the wrong friends? Why do some set sky high expectations from friendship, only to return disappointed when the relationship gets built on a shaky foundation of one-sided trust and belief? Do chronic loners honestly never feel the need of a friend? Are they at peace with their aloofness? Tough to believe, for after all man is supposed to be a social animal! So, why do some value friends so much, while some are willing to treat friends like a spanner - use and throw? Then again, why does one person in a friendship value the friendship more, which can be seen by the angst he experiences when it doesn't go right, while others perhaps don't seem to care as much? Don't memories of past good times ever come back? And don't those memories urge one to get together with those one left behind?

The criteria used while making friends is certainly a mirror of one's own characteristics. But I also feel that valuing a relationship is an even deeper part of the value system. Every return - tangible or intangible needs a sufficient investment of effort. And the motivation towards that end comes from one's value system again whereby one wants to make a success out of every endeavor. Unfortunately, friendship is not an entrepreneurial venture. It takes 2 to make it work, and the fights and squabbles are the true tests of friendship. If the effort to resolve a dispute doesn't come through, one needs to realize that that acquaintance was perhaps never meant to translate into a friendship!

Which then brought me to another thought - one of barriers to friendship! Sounds weird, but I had written a piece before on Girls as Best Friends. Thinking a little more along those lines, I have realized that this is something that is psychologically impossible. Unless, one has forged those friendships ages ago, when life still revolved around school uniforms, lunch breaks, blackboards and pencils. I thought about it. William Kane had a Matthew Lester, The Count of Monte Cristo had a Jacabo, Jay had a Veeru. But Kate Blackwell... ummm had David Blackwell - her husband! Lara Cameron - ummm... no one. Laurie Montgomerie had Jack - again not another woman! So are we supposed to take a hint here and give up on the expectation of women remaining thick friends for life? I guess yes...

Thursday, September 03, 2009

Thoughts on Thursday : Amor es un perro pero amistad es una cisne

Nope this post is not a review of the cult classic Mexican movie. We have a weekend. AP is closed down on account of the demise of the CM. This is the first week of the term. Life is a tad cool. So what happens when you have some time on hand, after having been used to a life of running around like a chicken with its head cut off? (sorry for the stark comparison, but that was by and far the most befitting metaphor!) Well, what happens is you get all thoughtful and you reflect over a highly pleasurable evening spent with a few close friends. And I, for one like to think, co-relate, find R-squared values - told you I had a 'free' weekend right? Add to that Thoughts on Thursday, and that is where I start.

A few months ago, a friend of mine showed me a poem she'd written on the meaning of love after being inspired by a certain Hindi movie. She had then implied that in the current day, love is all about lust. 'Lusts of the flesh' - quoting Phoebe Buffet of F.R.I.E.N.D.S. And yesterday, after some friendly nonsensical talk, someone had a brainwave of talking profoundly deep stuff like what love means to them. Some were all about loving and being loved back. Some were about fun. Some were about mystique and intrigue. Elsewhere, perhaps when I was younger, I have heard the typical rom-com interpretations as well. One of roses and gifts, unconditional love, 'You complete me', and such other typical romantic comedy quotes. Ah! Romantic Comedies! The kind where a guy bids $900 for a $20 scarf, because his affection for his estranged girl had begun with 'the green scarf'. The kind where a down and out, yet outspoken woman is told by a guy that he likes her just the way she is! I have seen a whole host of real life stories though, where people enter a relationship expecting a similar story, and get hurt when reality is actually poles apart!

It was after hearing several unique perspectives, that I decided that love is like an elephant and each person is like one of the 6 blind men of Hindustan. Some perceive the trunk, some the tail, but each has her own interpretation and meaning of love. At the end of it all, though one wonders whether it is really worth the time and effort trying out the options put forth by love, if endings can be somewhat like the endings in the movie Amores Perros - where all 3 protagonists are willing to sacrifice the comfort of the status quo in favor of the mysterious love that they look for, only to be grossly let down at the end. Aha! I did tie in the title to the post!!!

But one thing I firmly believe is that no matter what love may mean to different people, at the end of the day, friendship most certainly is one of the most beautiful things ever. Look at it. A bunch of people who had no relationship whatsoever, somehow hit it off, find common (or maybe grossly divergent) grounds, hang out together, pull each others' leg, forget about time, talk anything and everything (you perhaps don't even remember a meaningful snippet of your talk, but end up having a great time nonetheless) and basically end up with a memory for life.

And so I say - Amor es un perro pero amistad es una cisne - Love is a dog but friendship is a swan!

Tuesday, September 01, 2009

Trends on Tuesday : Perils of the social network

Today's post is certainly going to ruffle a lot of feathers, as I talk about a trend that has been catching up over the past few years. Social Networking and its implications on humanity.The world is growing closer by the minute. Technology aids people to stay in touch at all times, with distance no longer being an impediment. That said, social networking sites on the internet were a boon to people living today's super fast lifestyles, that leave one with hardly any time for physical fitness let alone social and emotional improvement!

Simply using these sites to get back in touch with people you left far away as you moved along the pathways of life is fine. But expecting these sites to supplant face time, or for that matter be an indicator of one's social quotient is grossly misplaced. So, if I have 400 friends on Facebook, ideally I should be considered one with a strong network. But perhaps I need to pause and think about how many of these peoples' lives am I intimately aware about. How much do I know about these people? Are they really friends or mere acquaintances? Is Facebook really my bookmark of friends, and my way of staying in touch? Or is it a glorified address book, that contains their contact details while having people tweeting feeds about what they're doing in their lives?

Facebook is perhaps a wonderful platform for people to establish their first time contacts with long lost friends. It is perhaps brilliant for marketing or endorsing a cause amongst your peer group. But it sure as hell is not the right emotional medium to announce to your friends that you are getting married!! But in today's world, where people are on the move all the time, and technology is so addictive, with cell phone updates available to Facebook, the emotional connect gets lost somewhere. It is suave to actually tweet - 'had a blast at office party last night' and put up a zillion pictures with a bunch of tagged faces. But ask me how many meaningful conversations I had with people last night, and the answer would be a dismal 1 or 2. Where was the time amidst posing for all those pictures???

Then comes the incessant need to keep putting up status updates and random inputs about one's life. Now why does the world need to care about whether you are running on 5 hours of sleep? Does the world need to know that you are having a tiff with your significant other? Why should the world know personal details about your life just because of your want for something to tweet in the first place? You may argue that I should perhaps not read these messages if I didn't want to. Well, fair point. But all I ask is, what about the fine art of exercising discretion on what can and can't be shared? What is wrong in keeping a few aspects of life strictly personal? I'd put in a post a while ago on a similar trend with respect to gtalk tag lines and here it is.


A very funny pdf is doing the rounds these days, describing the Ramayana on Facebook. No offence intended to anybody, but just to give a flavor of how unwittingly funny life is on Facebook, I'm attaching a snapshot of this pdf here -


But this is a trend. An American Presidential Election was won with the support of Facebook. The current generation lives and thrives by social networking through Facebook, Orkut and Twitter. I am an ardent fan as well. And not keeping with the times and trends will only leave one behind as the world marches on. So what can be done? Complement Facebooking with some phone and face time. Let us not let go of the human connect and make way for the humanoid connections. Let networking not be related only to TCP/IP. Let the age old medium of person to person contact co exist with peer to peer software connections.

That said, now let me put up a link to this post on Facebook and Orkut! Didn't I tell you it's addictive??

Friday, July 17, 2009

All that I came back to - Part 1

Enigma in the background, filter coffee in hand, rains outside the window, mild cloudy atmosphere, perfect food for thought...

As one moves on in life, situations and surroundings change and each change brings with itself a new perspective. Each perspective in turn adds on to one's kitty of thoughts, memories and learning, which at the end of the day, when one looks back at a life led, makes the life look full and complete. Does that sound abstract enough? Maybe. But a change from a certain way of life certainly makes you think back on the life that was, and appreciate all the smaller things that you perhaps leave behind. This and my undying love for maximum city formed the basis of my writings on 'All that I leave behind - Part I to IV, with many more to follow. And now, on my small 'back home' sojourn, I have begun to look at All that I left behind with a deeper shade of nostalgia and an even greater appreciation towards the smaller things that make life ... complete.
Ok, so let me cut to the chase. For me, life is a collage of incidents. What makes the whole thing beautiful is the way in which some people manage to make this collage very colorful and pretty, and each time you think back about this collage, you come out with a huge smile on your face.

So here is a small list of things I came back to.
  • A place where they don't make Lauki and Turai together (I have no idea what those vegetables are. My mess made those two vegetable dishes look identical, and Aneesha's reaction that betrayed something like 'SACRILEGE! TREASON! PUNISHMENT FOR SUCH A CRIME SHOULD BE DEATH BY THE GUILLOTINE!!!' kinda gave me the idea that maybe... just maybe these two vegetables don't go together.
  • Filter coffee - the elixir of life. The magical brown nectar that is the essence of a southie's life.
  • Rains - the real deal. Monsoons where clouds gather, winds blow, the environs get cloudy and romantic, aaaaaaaaaaaaand, surprise surprise - IT RAINS AS WELL!!!
  • Trains, buses and traffic jams - When one misses every aspect of the city, these things that form the life of the city, are missed as well. I missed the noise, the vibrancy, the continuous lively chatter of the city.
  • My people. People who have been with me through different walks of life. Such people, after meeting whom, I come back with sweeter memories. Chief, who of his own, remembered my birthday and called me up while I was sitting alone and homesick in a remote room on campus, missing home, friends, and getting tense about exams! Chief, who when I went to meet him the other day got out of an important meeting, just to come and talk with me for a while! Nadu and Bakhtu, - my first friends in the corporate world, the sweetest people ever, Teepoo, who only counted down to my time of arrival in Mumbai some 1000 times, Bond and Rohit, JC, Sangy, Shilpu, all from a part of my life I had left behind over a year ago! Why? There was no reason why they took the time out of work to spend time with me. There was no reason why they spent time with me and then worked late that evening, to catch up with deadlines. With tiny gestures, they effectively made one person very very happy. And then, my kiddie buddy, Archi, who still counts me as an important part of her life, in spite of all the myriad changes happening in her life. And what matters the most to me is the fact that after meeting all these people, their statement to me is, 'it felt so nice to see you after so long!' My day was effectively made!


But the fact of the matter is, that spending time away from all these things that matter to me has made me appreciate them all the more. Things which till now were taken as a given, now mean a lot more to me, than they did before. All I can say is - VIVA LA VIDA! three cheers to life in all its forms - family, friends, city, home, people and relationships.

Friday, June 05, 2009

Another memory milestone

This generally happens to me all the time. When it is time to laze around, and we make plans to go ghooming (roaming), I get real lazy. I start thinking of ways and means to try and get out of going out, perhaps fall asleep so deeply that I don't hear my cell scream, or I don't hear my door being pounded. Such were my sentiments on day 2 of my term break. You can't blame me, I get 5 days free for over 45 days of relentless, hard work. So, but obviously I have a right to be phooped! But for every ditch queen like me, God makes enthu masters. Doc girl is one such person and my supremely amazing experience yesterday is thanks only and only to her. So here is the story.

We wanted to go see the Salar Jung museum. I had been there over 17 years ago, and I remembered a couple of exhibits rather vividly - the veiled Rebecca and the double statue. Now that I am in Hyd, it was absolutely essential for me to go and say my hello to those two amazing works of art. And there was Doc girl, who had only heard about the beauty of the collections in the museum and being a huge fan of anything historical, she desperately wanted to go see the museum. So we began gathering junta. You see, the more people we commit to, the less I can get lazy and ditch last minute.. So doc girl called a couple of people she knew, and I called a couple of people I knew, and came up to a total of 7 of us - the not-so-secret 7! Luckily for us, one of the NSS7 (not so secret 7, but sounds real secret agentish right??) was our friend Rajuguide. He wanted to be known as more than just a guide, but we were not so ready to give up the easy twang of 'rajuguide' - rajuguide, sounds so perfect!! So, Doc girl, Sportygirl, ME, Rajuguide, mangoman (he has a story that will follow shortly), baby, and kulfiman(he has a story as well), went to town! No, this is not a new Justice League although Marvel is more than welcome to come and pay me royalty for rights to these characters. Yeah, so we took a shuttle into town and a ric thereafter, at the bestest of prices, thanks to RAJUGUIDE. Who said there is no such thing as a local language advantage? So off we went to the museum. We reached the place around 1ish and we realized that many of us were hungry. So, off we headed to Shadab for some sumptuous Biryani. Yaar, museum toh bas bahaana tha, the guys were willing to come, just because Shadab was close to the museum. So after a really really wonderful dinner, the lazybones in me reared its head and begged me to pleeeeeeeeeeease go back home. But onward we marched off to the museum. And man! it was worth every single minute. The ceramics, the European paintings, the miniature paintings, the aggregate beauty of the place, brought a smile to all our faces. Given my fetish for anything dainty and porcelain, I loved every inch of the Japanese and Chinese galleries. Doc girl and I wished we could own a piece of each of those pieces of ceramic marvels. But then again, if wishes were horses, beggars would ride them!

And then we went on to see the veiled Rebecca, and as before she took my breath away. The finesse shown in the sculpture, with the attention on each fold of cloth, the expression on her veiled face, the plain beauty of the statue, left a lasting impression in my mind. And once again, I was thankful I pushed laziness aside and just got myself to come to the museum. After looking at the two-statue, the musical clock and all other auxiliary exhibits, we left, but with only the picture of veiled Rebecca lingering in our minds.

I was exhausted and not really in a mood to go exploring further, but again, our enthu masters Doc Girl and Rajuguide insisted that we go to Chaarminar as well. I wanted to somehow again get out, the feeling was almost akin to the one I experience coming down Fuji a couple of years ago, where I just wanted to be airlifted home!!! But we walked on, and walked all through the old city. And the experience was sublime. Chaarminar in all its majesty looked nothing short of splendid. And there I was taking pictures of the monument. Angle badal badal ke. Each of the pictures ended up being a masterpiece in themselves. And when I looked at the bangles along the road side suddenly all signs of exhaustion simply vanished. Sportygirl, Doc Girl and I went ballistic looking for the right mix of color and handiwork, while the guys looked on haplessly. They didn't have much of a choice anyway! Several vendors later, when we were lighter by a few currency notes, we moved on to a small Irani shop, where we picked up some really amazing authentic Irani chaai. But not before I got a steal buying a set of 6 bracelets for 50 bucks! The woman in me screamed for joy after having had a chance to bargain after soooooo long. Thereafter, the guys, not wanting to look shopping-impaired decided to go buy - mangoes. Our friend mangoman, who so far had had a rather boring day (since clearly yaar bachpan se history mein koi shauk nahin tha), bought a few mangoes. It was then that he was accosted by this beggar woman who, in his words, 'uspe chadh gayi', (later we realized that she just tugged at his tee) and demanded a mango from him. Extremely shareef mangoman surrenders a mango, in return for freedom from the molestation! Hence he shall be remembered for years to come as Mr Mangoman! We were unaware of this whole story till later, when Kulfiman treated us to.... you guessed right, Kulfi. Our dear friend Kulfiman suddenly developed the urge to indulge in Kulfi. He said that there was a WORLD-FAMOUS kulfi place thereabouts. I wonder whether there exists any such world famous kulfi place anywhere! But then we walked almost a mile in search of the world famous place, only to realize that Kulfiman himself was on a mission to 'Go I know not where and fetch I know not what'. Ultimately we walked into some random ice cream place, which we hereby proclaim to be the world famous kulfi place in Hyderabad, and insisted that Kulfiman treat us to the cold delight of our choice - the least he could do to make up for our wild goose chase!

And finally, when we were ultimately ready to leave, we realized that no cabs were available. And so finally, we trooped into 2 rics, the three of us girls along with baby in one, and the rest of the guys in another. Wonder how baby can be a chaperon! But I guess we picked him, since he was the only one willing / ready to ride double seat with the ric driver. I guess he didn't have much of a choice anyway.

And after reaching campus, we learned that there had been a terror alert declared in old Hyd city. Hardly a reason that managed to keep us zindadil people away from fun. And as before, I guess yesterday also forms a milestone on my memory lane. New friends, new acquaintances, new places, new experiences - but all contributing to my collection of pleasant, never to be forgotten memories....

Wednesday, June 03, 2009

A moment for a memory

Yesterday marked the end of my first term at ISB. We were exhausted, as I had described in my previous post. But being budding economists, we were not at all keen on squandering away even a minute of our new found freedom. What does economics have to do with this point, you ask? I say, (given the fact that economics is indeed my heart's newly found desire), economics has all to do with everything. Water Diamond paradox is explicit here. Value in use of the few free days we have is far far lower than the value in exchange of these same number of days. Why? Well, what is the alternative use of these days? Study???? As against a movie or dinner with friends? As against shaking a leg at a party? As against using the library to chat with friends and read fiction books instead of course work? Isn't this a classic manifestation of the Water Diamond paradox?

What happened yesterday surely deserves a mention here, since for me yesterday marked its way as a special memory. A tiny 'post-it' sticks out of my book of memories, so that when at a later date I leaf through the same, yesterday's note would jut out screaming 'Read me first'. Ok, here is the story.

Adhering to the concept of the water diamond paradox, we, though, exhausted, wanted to use the free time we had to the fullest. So, exams done, we walked back home, the prudent few went to take a nap and the imprudent ones like me, who were starved for internet time, logged on to the world wide web, and finally felt emancipated! Till around 9ish, it was time to go have dinner. The original plan was to go to some place outside campus and get something to eat. So we swung between Pizza Hut and Dominoes and Subway and some place a friend suggested. So after loads of deliberation, we gathered (gang of five girls again), and went off to this place called Ista. A couple of us were not even remotely dressed for the place, with me in jeans and tee and another friend in tracks and a tee. Well you can't expect us to go dressed up to Dominoes right??? So, we hunted for a ric and in true Non-Bombay style we found none. Finally we found one guy who was willing to come, but was charging us an arm and a leg to go there. So we continued to walk, till finally we found another rickie who was ready to come. Again, in true non- Bombay style, five of us trooped into the ric. Well, we had three people who would collectively have been equal to 1.5, so technically we were just 0.5 above allowable limits! Doesn't matter. Made me feel pretty nice about myself, since I was able to be one of the 5 who could fit into a ric!!

We reached the place and it was breath-takingly beautiful. It reminded me a lot of Ramada and Land's End in Mumbai, and the salty air of Bombay beckoned me again. Sniff Sniff. Anyway, we trooped in, and had some of the loveliest food we have had in a while (two weeks actually, since we had yummy food at the Waterfront 2 weeks ago, to celebrate the end of mid-terms!). But what really made the time special, was the typical girl talk we had together. Very typical girl talk, stuff that makes our gender what we are. Stuff that makes us bond the way girls do. Somehow, we spoke all kinds of things, never for once thinking that we were actually talking to people we had known for just a little over a month. But somehow, we had so much in common, so much to talk about, so much to share, that there was, like one of us commented, an instant connection.

Somewhat similar was our experience soon after mid terms. Leaving exhaustion to the dogs, we just grabbed a shuttle, went downtown and had dinner at the Waterfront, which, for the record is an amazing place to go to. And back then, we were the'super six'. Again, a new bunch of people, with a sudden, yet instant connection.

And that is when we thought - School is not just about the subjects or the grades. Its about such memories. It's about the good times, the goofy times, the tough times, the easy times. It's about those memories that bring on a smile years later when you think about them. It's about the pictures you see ages later that make you recollect the exact conversation that happened around those pictures. It's all about the people - not just the ones you meet and greet, but the ones you meet and keep.

Sunday, April 19, 2009

All that I leave behind - Part II

Been over 10 days since I last wrote, and almost a week since I left my favorite city to start a year of self discovery and learning at a place totally new to me. So far, the journey has been uneventfully smooth. Thanks to technology, the communication with loved ones goes on uninterrupted, and so, that is one distance that has been effectively bridged. Nothing comes as close to personal interactions, but still, something is better than nothing at all! And of course, the heady feeling associated with meeting new people, getting acclimatized to new surroundings, new routines, still hasn't lost its sheen. So till the patina settles, I guess the mind has enough to be occupied. But there are still some things, that hold on to me. Some things that stay close and dear, and make me lie awake at night at times, staring up into the ceiling, in vivid imagery! Call me insane, or call me change-averse, but I still miss a dozen things intrinsic to Mumbai, rather my life in Mumbai. Do scenes of Mumbai actually leave me sleepless, you ask? Well, it has to do more with the people I left behind at Mumbai, juxtaposed with specific places in Mumbai. The events may be old, but the images are crystal clear and the memories are well, as fresh as a daisy.

The 5 days of bliss, with my dearest friend as we watched 3 movies back to back, phaadoed 3 liters of milk in one day, wondering what to do with the spoils (literally), went off for a looooooong stroll across Marine Drive and came back only to smell LPG in the house the next morning, wondering who to call (Gas Busters perhaps), making a call to someone who lived in a continent 17 hours away, to ask for crisis advice, all the while worrying that our respective parents must not come to know of this event, for fear that we may not be allowed to hang out together in future - PJ Party types all alone. Going to watch a horror movie together with 4 other friends at Sterling, all the while laughing at the frightful sequences, since the whole theater would scream 30 seconds before the frightful sequence, predicting the horror in a way. Unending shopping experiences at Linking Road, while in college, allowing our very own bargain experts to clinch us the best deals (M and M I miss you guys so much)! Valentine's Day as a class at Bandstand, only to be shooed by the owners for being boisterous on a day meant to be quiet and mushy. Rainy days where the eyes would search out in anticipation, wondering whether the roads and railroads would be sufficiently flooded to allow us a day of merry making at school. 4 of us on a katta at Worli Sea Face, Pepsi in hand, toasting my moment. A 2 feet tall bouquet that arrived at my new workplace, sent by my gang at my old workplace. 2 dear friends who faced nothing less than an ordeal to reach VT on the day I left Mumbai, just for those 2 minutes of wishing me goodbye, even though each of them had to undertake 2 hours of traveling to and fro, just to execute this gesture.

Given that I got writable access to the Internet just today, I found no better means of kick starting my writing journey outside Mumbai, than to mention all that I left behind, part II.

Friday, February 13, 2009

Bizarre colloquy

You know this thing about weird mannerisms that you develop while speaking? A random phrase or word, finds its place in the most grammatically wrong places. And it becomes such a habit that the words just escape your mouth as you speak. The funniest thing though is that every so frequently, the 'gap words' as I'd like to call them, keep changing.

While in high school, it used to be like. You know, like, school used to be fun, like because of the gang we had. Although the subjects were like real boring, somehow, the way we used to like spend time with our friends like made life so much more fun.

Then, while I was in college, I was basically a victim of the basic usage of basically. Almost all my sentences would basically begin with basically, and perhaps even end in basically the same way. This basic habit of mine was made the basic butt of all basic jokes. Including one where I was asked why I basically used basically, instead of acidically!

One of my friends had the extraordinary habit of using 'Mhanje' - the Marathi word that means umm, well, MEANS!!! When we told him that he uses mhanje, he said, " Really? I never noticed, mhanje I can't really pay attention to what I speak, so I don't know. Anyway thanks for telling me, though, mhanje, that's the way I can perhaps change myself you know?"

My current verbal fixation happens to be 'what rubbish'. I know, it's a very weird fixation indeed, and you might wonder how it finds its applicability in my everyday conversations. Well, its like basically using the phrase to express astonishment, mhanje, surprise at a statement in a conversation. Like, when my friend remarked that the world was not in a recession, but that it just appears to be so, since everything in the world is a matter of interpretation! However, my phrase fetish sometimes goes overboard. Like the other day, one of my friends said that she had met her guy and was tying the knot in 6 months. And I said, 'What Rubbish'.... She refused to foot the tab for what was supposed to be a 'breaking the news' treat. No Rubbish

Tuesday, December 09, 2008

Cheers to K* friends ;)

The soft salty air of this city, the gentle lapping of the waves against the wave breakers, the strong sea breezes that leave a warm feel on your skin in spite of the comparative coolness around, the lovely driveway along so many kilometers of the Arabian Sea – part of the collective memory I will always hold about my city. And yesterday, an extra aspect got added to my seaside memory.

The fun of meeting old friends on the Katta by the sea side is a pleasure in itself. It almost feels like the warm-cool breezes try to etch the moments in your mind! And here, I must scream to the world that I am indeed humbled to have four K* (secret code word) friends who came all the way just to say hi and celebrate a moment.

Let me describe the full force of this meeting. Imagine a V. One of my K* friends lives in one corner of the V and works in another. Yet she came to a place at the center of the V. Two friends live in one corner of the V and work just 5 kilometers away. Yet they came to a place at the center of the V. Another, doesn’t stay in the V. He was here on vacation from another city. He stays at a point nowhere on the two prongs of the V. Yet he came to a place at the center of the V. I stay and work very close to the center of the V.

The banter, the talks on my ‘wonderful’ driving skills (I know to drive, so what if I say Yeh and Woh for left and right… if you don’t see me when I give wrong directions, its your fault), the talks of what Teepoo did to deserve the Shaque ki nigaahen of her household, and all such absolute nonsense are something I will remember word for word. But what touched me the most was the ‘cheers to Sindhu’s moment’ with 4 cans of Pepsi clanging against one another with feet dangling off the Worli Sea Face Katta. All I say is… Cheers to friendship – May we always stay the same… (Rohit and Davara, maybe you both could improve a bit…

P.S. I am not writing this out a sense of gratitude. I am writing this because the two crappy blokes made fun of my blog and jeered that I would post on our meet yesterday. SO THERE!!!! J

Tuesday, November 18, 2008

Victim of circumstance

Thomas Hardy was a great man. Yeah like he needs the greatness certificate from me. Cut to Return of the Native. Barring exotic names, another high point was the conversion of seemingly benign episodes into having super disastrous consequences. One of the most memorable ones - Mrs Yeobright visiting Clym. After a rather acrimonious start to her relationship with Eustacia Wye post the latter's wedding to Clym, she decides to try to patch things up and goes over to Clym's house. Wildeve - Eustacia's 'ex' is in the house, since he has come a-visiting. Eustacia sees her mother-in-law through the window and hurries to usher Wildeve out the back door. and while at the porch, she hears Clym saying 'mother'. So, she assumes that he has opened the door and let his mother inside and so, she lingers longer in the garden. Clym, however has muttered 'mother' in his sleep. Mrs Yeobright, meanwhile, receives no response at the door, and she knows full well that both her son and her daughter-in-law are in the house, since she saw Eustacia looking at her through the window and she also saw Clym's gear by the door. So downcast, she starts going back and exclaims that she is a 'broken-hearted woman who was cast off by her son'. Sad and depressed, she trudges back homeward and is bitten by a snake. Venom combined with exhaustion from heat, kills her. And in true Hardy fashion they all lived sadly ever after.

The juxtaposition of circumstance and a certain behavior in a certain situation - somehow provides a number of stray episodes in life. More often than not, our hugely volatile moods are an offshoot of these episodes. So in a way these episodes, provide the spice of life. So failure to meet a bunch of friends on two disparate occasions once on account of health issues and once on account of work issues, gets misconstrued as an exhibition of snobbery. The Hardy admirer in me screams to say that I am 'an overworked/ill individual who was cast off by her friends'. But no one reads Hardy today and so no one would even bother to hear my sentence, let alone listen to it. So when I get angry with a friend, - who was supposedly in 'the inner circle' - for not having called when he happened to land in town, (my logic was that international flight tickets and trips halfway across the globe do not happen at 1 hour's notice), and scream at him for his gross lack of motivation to keep a friendship, I guess somewhere I should hear him say "The resolution to avoid an evil is seldom framed till the evil is so far advanced as to make avoidance impossible."

Thursday, November 13, 2008

Thoughtful Thursday : Girls as best friends....

A group of girls as best friends for life, with no tiffs whatsoever and staying in touch very regularly. True? Yeah as true as the Tooth Fairy or Santa Claus. What is so different in women being best buddies? The answer lies in inherent traits and societal mores! No, I didn't pick that up from a 'Chicken Soup for the Bored Soul' book. But, yes, thick friendships among men and those among women are different.

The pleasant memories are plenty. Late night talks about anything and everything. A breed with the uncanny ability to appreciate chick flicks and see the art within those movies. Blasting the 'male dominated world', while at the same time giving a nonchalant shrug, saying 'who cares, since girls just wanna have fun'. The never ending shopping binges. Only a lady can understand another's relentless poring over a choice between two nearly identical shades of lip color. D-uh! Men are almost always color blind. They can't tell a red from a green - a weakness that shows up in their driving skills!!!

But being female is not always so hunky dory. As kids, girls bicker and fight over the pettiest of things. 'Whose dress is prettier', or 'Who is taller, fairer, cuter'. These bickerings graduate to higher levels as the girls grow, with the result being full fledged cat fights! Even among seeming 'best friends'. Jealousy and a certain degree of perennial comparison between one another, doesn't allow two women to be as open with one another as two men would be with each other. A dash of over-sensitivity just seems to add more fuel to a fire. So, when she doesn't invite me to her pet dog's christening ceremony, I get angry and refuse to talk to her for the rest of my life. More often than not, I really don't end up talking to her. But reason dawns upon me so much later! And by then maybe she is already married and has a litter of her own!

And one day, coffee in hand on a rainy day, at our respective homes, when the kids are asleep, the last work email has been checked and answered, dinner is finished and the dishes done, gazing out of the window, looking at nothing, the old memories would come flooding back, and one would long for those days of yapping, pajama parties, and good old girlie banter. But by then our close-knit small world has literally been exploded sending the shards in different directions. And all we have are the memories and the hated phrase - 'if only'....

Sunday, November 02, 2008

What is with Gtalk tag lines???

Gtalk tag lines. They end up being a means to tell the world what's on your mind. Noble enough. So you say, " Ram Kapoor in Nigeria" - makes sense. You perhaps want to avoid phone calls while on international roaming. You say, " Ram Kapoor in USA" - makes sense too. You want to collate your shopping list soon enough. You say, " Changed job!" - granted. You try to avoid getting bashed up by friends who during the next meeting greet you with the standard, " KA&**^#, Bola Bhi Nahin", routine. You say, "I am asleep", as your status shows away or idle, which is normal for everyone on chat in a place called 'anything but India', where internet and electricity are perhaps cheaper than water... especially if your company foots the bill. Another use is to add your site or blog link, which is also understood. Of what use is writing something if you aren't going to get anyone to read it??? But what I don't understand are

tag lines like - "I love my girlfriend very very much" or "My hubby is the best cook in the world" or "My hubby picks me up and drops me at work every day" or "I can't wait to be Mrs. Dholakia".... Jeeeeeeeeez... Dudes and babes, I don't really think the world is remotely interested in knowing your romantic bent of mind. Then again, you have the tag lines like " Oh yes, Aarti, you were so right" Now I am not Aarti, I don't know Aarti, so what if she is right????? It's like saying "Raj, please call the grocer and order a litre of milk" on 20 hoardings on an Expressway!!!!

No matter what the motivations, the phenomenon never ceases to make me laugh. Now my tag line is going to be "I know Vidya for 2 years......"

Saturday, November 01, 2008

Why the strong affinity to festivals - my story...

Diwali is almost over. The noise of firecrackers has almost totally faded. The lamps and lanterns are almost all removed. This weekend signifies the part of bidding adieu to visiting cousins and relatives, and in some cases, your own 'boriya bistar bandhna' to get back to life and work. At this time, you really wonder why does Diwali or for that matter any festival warrant such attention. Indeed why is it such a big deal? The answer lies in the spirit of togetherness. All festivals in essence are a means to get together. Like I'd mentioned in the very first post of the WRIIMSMN series, Indians need a reason to celebrate - Ganpati, Durga Puja, Diwali, Chhat Puja, anything! But more than the devotional or religious aspect it is a means for all extended families and friends to get together, share stories of their life so far, and so on.

The true value of these festivals is actually realized when
one is out and away from family in an alien land. In India, Diwali is a phenomenon! Crackers, lights, sweets the works. Noise begins a week in advance. I remember last year, I was out in South Africa during Diwali. From Mumbai to Johannesburg, a huge sea of difference. At least the Desi community in US is a lot more vibrant. Hence there is at least a chance for people to get together and greet one another. There isn't the gross ignorance about Indian festivals in the US. At least the Desis are aware of what Di - wall - e is all about. At least some! But in Johannesburg, given the fact that the Indian community is tiny, there was nothing called Diwali Consciousness over there!! The very idea of spending Diwali away from home was rather bleak. Thank God, we were a team of around 16 Indians and we managed to celebrate at least a little bit of togetherness.

So, in spite of awakening to utter silence, as against staccato cracker sounds that we were used to, in India, my roomie and I wished each other, and then headed off to the nearest Desi temple - at Melrose. Thereafter, we headed to work. Almost all of us were dressed differently, in new clothes, et al and all 16 of us managed to greet each other, chatter away to glory in an attempt to try to forget the fact that we were away from home. Our African client walked up to us and said, "Ummm, what's special today, why are all you Indians so happy?" I said, "it's Diwali, the most important Indian Hindu festival." "Ohh.. Good Good... enjoy yourselves.... Lovely... Indian festivals are lovely...." and he walked off. I still missed home like crazy, I called up and cribbed left, right and center. I missed my people, my city, my noisy vibrancy, the atmosphere of cheer and festivity! I cribbed about it all.

We still wanted to make it special. Typically in India, Diwali involves a cartload of sweets, and a rather 'feasty' lunch. Without that luxury, we decided to go the Pizza way. Our daily lunch used be home cooked food, rice and a vegetable or some such stuff. But today, since it was Diwali, we ordered Pizzas, and made merry over lunch! We then decided to wrap up work and leave early, and a few of us headed over to the Sandton City Mall. After finishing off shopping, we sat down to a coffee at 'House of coffee'. The aroma of the Columbian coffee I had there still stokes my memories. We sat talking of how we celebrate Diwali in our respective cities. How much we'd enjoy the festive season and so on. Our Project Manager who was staying in Johannesburg with his wife and kid invited all of us to his house for dinner, since it was Diwali. We then headed over there, had some excellent food, and sat talking way into the night, finally finishing off with a few rounds of traditional Rummy! All this managed to make the day truly memorable. More so because the whole gang was unknown to one another, and we had all met only on this project, a couple of weeks back. A complete band of quasi strangers, but bound by a thread of Indianness.

All the while that I was in India, I'd never bother too much about festivities and so on. I mean, I'd participate and go to the temples, but never actually look forward to the festivals with the keen eye, or awe towards them. But this year, after seeing how terrible it really is to be away from all the cheer and the festivity, I truly came to appreciate this aspect of our Indianness. Our festivals truly are a unique factor..........

Friday, October 31, 2008

A tiny thought to ponder

Why do we love meeting long lost relatives?
Why do we love school reunions more than going for dinner with current office mates?
Why do we love looking at older pictures?
Why do we love telling stories about what we did as kids?
 
Well, perhaps, back then relatives actually discussed life, without worrying about what anyone would think. Maybe relatives had that faith and belief that perhaps someone would care.
Perhaps back in school, we never worried about who would become CEO of the cupboard monitors union, or who would have the maximum money to splurge, or who would be successful in life in comparison to others.
 
There is an old saying that goes that as you move on in life, lengthwise and heightwise, it gets lonely. People either fall away, out of step, or fade away, or run off far ahead of you. But the relationships you build early on in life before jealousy, greed and a secretive nature creep in are the ones that last for life. But do they really? I don't know. In many cases, old friends who've been together for 10-12 years, suddenly get caught up in life, or get too busy to waste precious time on frivolous old friends. What's there to talk anyway? Nostalgia and nothing else. In some other cases, even old friends drift apart since their paths in life are no longer aligned - on account of the field or on account of the degree of achievement. Is there anything one can do to preserve the sanctity of friendship from the daggers of life?
 
I don't know, but it is just a failure of humanity over the years. I have seen my grandfather's friends, staying in touch for over 60 years! And these days, it is difficult to maintain a 'no expectations' friendship for even 6 years. Disgusting? Yes. But I guess I need to reconcile to it as a fallacy of my times!!!!

Friday, August 15, 2008

Independence day - A moment for a memory


The true meaning of Independence day becomes apparent when we are not anywhere near Indianness. Last year, we were all working on Independence Day. For the first time, we felt the need or the value of that holiday. Usually all we do on I-Day is louse around and enjoy the day off. But not this time. So, all we Indians, gathered together and decided to dress up like Indians or at least wear colors from the Indian flag. We wanted to sing the anthem and generally assert that we were Indians. But then, we were told that those activities may not be brooked too much. Plus, who wanted to mess with the client, when he was already at our throats, waiting for an opportunity to draw blood??? So, there we were all dressed up as well as we could. All of us kept up the spirit, including some desis at the client place. We all were proud of being Indian, especially in a foreign place. I guess it was more of the pride in being unique, but yeah, our patriotism was at its max! I guess, given the fact that we were in a totally Indian – oblivious setting, gave us a bigger wish to prove our uniqueness. You know, the ‘I celebrate what you can’t understand’ sort of defiance. Well, Zengin remarked that we should go to the Brit there and tell him, “ Aaj hi ke din hamaare logon ne tumhaare logon ko dhakke maar ke bhagaaya tha!”


We went for a desi lunch at Taj, complete with sweets, and celebrated the lunch as though it were a day of very high significance in our rather insignificant lives. At that time, Ash asked a question, I still haven’t been able to find the answer to. We were all harping on and on about ‘my country’, being first rate citizens, a sense of belonging, a sense of identification with the culture, the race. So the question was – ‘Do you really think all that makes a difference? I feel that any country is home, as long as I have friends and family there.’ I was vehement in denying that, saying I loved the essence of my land and so on, but on hind sight, looking at the everyday struggle to survive, in terms of crowded trains, traffic, a feeble infrastructure, corruption, ineffectiveness of leaders and the like, I am being forced to reconsider my stance. So, please do comment on what your take is, on this point, because sincerely, I haven’t been able to make up my mind!


And then, after thoroughly enjoying lunch, we all got back and gathering together, we Indians posed for pictures. Indians united in independence. Jai Hind!

Tuesday, July 29, 2008

Fuji - An anniversary and an experience

They said, no trip to Tokyo in summer is complete without climbing Mt. Fuji. It is the highest point in Japan. A volcano that is dormant since the 1700s. But climb the behemoth? And well, given the fact that the only thing I have ever climbed is a staircase, (and fallen and twisted my ankle a couple of times over there as well,) I was of the opinion that climbing and I were poles apart. I mean, I’d ask, of what joy is climbing? You subject your body to physical stress and strain, and at times even pain, to reach the top of a mountain, and then what? Subject yourself to more pain and start coming down!!! But somehow, on account of inputs from a brother, a couple of colleagues, my boss at work and my sister, (who had gone hiking in the Alps…. Later she told me that she had only climbed down and had taken a cable car up!!) I was intrigued by the idea of climbing Mt Fuji. But I was a little apprehensive, since my level of exercise was almost zero, on account of work pressures (oh yea, I know, it is the standard excuse!!!). And the last thing I wanted was for the people in my group to get held up because of me! But somehow, it seemed as though the fact that I was in Tokyo in summer, and that there had been a couple of weekends with no rain, was more than co-incidental. I took it as a sign that maybe I must climb after all. Besides, it can sound pretty momentous if I started my climbing escapades from the highest mountain in Japan. (Maybe culminating in climbing the highest mountain in the world…. I immediately imagined!!) So I thought, maybe I must give it a shot.

Then started multiple levels of research. The internet. People describing what they did, what they saw, how they went up, what to expect, what not to expect and so on. It was worth a great read. In fact those transcripts were the primary motivation for me to pen my experience as well. The first thing I came across, in most places was that one is a fool if he comes to Japan and doesn’t climb Fuji, and he is an even greater fool if he climbs twice. Hmm, interesting indeed. And then there were the endless lists of do’s and don’ts. Carry water, since water in the small stalls up the mountain can be pretty expensive, a 1000 yen as well. Carry light food, energy bars, a good jacket, a rain coat and so on. So we made a nice plan. We found a long weekend. 14, 15, 16 July. Great! Middle of summer, plus, we leave on Saturday (14th) and come down on Sunday. Rest all of Monday tending to all the sore ankles and backs. And off to work on Tuesday. To begin, we wanted to test our forbearance. So we set off on a mammoth sightseeing spree on foot. We decided one Sunday to take off to the Meiji shrine, and walk from Meiji, through Harajuku, Omotesando all the way to Shibuya, stroll in Shibuya, and then take the train back to Akasaka. We survived, with no painful joints! Yippee, we were not that old yet!!! So the plan stood. WE WILL CLIMB FUJI ON 14TH JULY. But the weather played spoilsport, and there was a typhoon alert, and to complicate matters, we had a massive earthquake at Nigata, and I felt that maybe I was reading the signs all wrong.

The subsequent weekend was again lost in poor weather, and we kept wondering whether the skies would clear at all! And then came the week of 28th and 29th of July. On Friday, the 27th, we realized that we would not have any work over the weekend, and the weather forecast had been good as well. So the wish to climb started growing in us again. We were Mansi, Neha, and I. We then caught hold of another chap, Siva and convinced him to come along as well. All like minded crazy enthusiastic people. Mansi and Neha had enthusiasm that was sky high. Given a choice, their enthu alone could have launched them to the top of the mountain. Mansi said that she knew a chap who had climbed Fuji before and he was ready to come along with us now as well. Almost instantaneously the words I had read off the internet in relation to Mt. Fuji flashed upon my mind. We nevertheless went to meet him to know what the experience would be like and what we should and shouldn’t expect. So off we went, and met Arun at Miami Garden, and over pizzas and beers, (I still think that maybe the beers convinced Arun to come along with us!!!), discussed his previous experience of climbing Fuji. He described his attempt and to say the least it was intriguing. We decided that we were not leaving Japan without climbing Mt Fuji.

After dinner, Mansi and I went shopping to get some essential reinforcements on the khaana front from Hanamasa! We bought cookies, bananas, chocolates and water. The plan was to meet Arun and Mangesh at Shinjuku station around noon on Saturday and the follow the leader for the rest of the way. So after a good sleep, we set off in the morning to Shinjuku station, met the guys and from then on, the journey began.

From Shinjuku, we took the Fuji Limited Express to Otsuki. This was like the Via Rail in Canada, where you could turn your seats to face one another, and there were large glass windows on either side, offering you a lovely view of the rich Japanese countryside. This took close to 45 minutes. Thereafter, from Otsuki we took another train to Kawaguchiko. Over here, by paying an additional 100 yen per person, we could get into a special coach that had only one huge set of sofas. The sofas faced a large window, and all of us settled on the couch watching the lovely countryside go fleeting by. We sat and took tons of pictures. And soon, we caught our first glimpse of THE MT. FUJI. A weird sense of anticipation came over us as we crowded around the window cameras in hand to capture the mountain we would be climbing soon. We soon reached Kawaguchiko station, and from there, we took a bus that was to take us to the 5th station on the Yamanoshi prefecture. We were to start our ascent from there, all the way to the top… hopefully. We reached the climbing point around 5 pm, and again took numerous pictures while standing down at the 5th station, and all these pictures have us smiling with glee!!!! (Oh yea, we had no clue of what was to follow). And from there began the experience.

At the base camp, we bought gloves, and the climbing sticks. There is a small bell tied to the top of the stick. Apparently that bell is for fending off bears!!! However, as you start climbing the constant clang of the bells on the sticks of the enthusiastic climbers tends to get to you. So, we all untied our bells and put them away. The initial part of the climb was like climbing a staircase. The sun was on its way down and we got a chance to savor the lovely surroundings. There is a lovely wooded area; fully green, smaller hills reside in adjoining areas, all in all making the sight very pretty. As we started climbing, the lack of exercise began getting to me, and I had to stop to catch my breath. What happens is that as you climb, your heart begins to beat faster, and you encounter a dropping level of oxygen in the air. If the situation goes out of control, you fall prey to what is called altitude sickness. Symptoms. You get dizzy, feel like throwing up and generally make a mess of the climbing experience. Yes, I mean it literally as well. I was in no mood to let that happen. The key? Stop every few minutes, and regain your breath. As we started climbing, I was anxious to know whether we had made sizeable progress. And as we climbed, we thought we had crossed the 6th station, which might have been a tiny stop somewhere in between. So filled with a sense of achievement, in spite of the fact that I had begun creaking in places, we climbed for nearly 2 hrs, only to be met by a huge sign, saying that we had reached the 6th station! That was the first time I felt a slight sense of despair. (The first in a huge series!) But the enthusiasm had not yet begun to flag. So we continued after a small stop. We called it a Sutta stop, since the guys would be busy stopping for a smoke, and we’d stop to catch our breath, senses, and maybe rest our aching legs a little bit. As we ascended towards the 7th station, the sun had begun to set and a lovely moon came out. It then occurred to us that we were climbing on a full moon night, that too, unwittingly chosen. Then we went on further to the 7th station. This climb took comparatively lesser time. Once at the 7th station, we stopped for a while longer, and this is where the cold began to hit us. Coming from tropical countries, all of us were cold; at least I was and add to it the fact that I couldn’t fill my lungs with hot tobacco smoke to keep warm. Only then did we realize that we had managed this far without actually feeling cold, only because of the calories we were burning! The minute we stopped, we shivered. Whew!!! Soon we got moving, and started off towards the 8th station. This was a fairly routine climb, with chain-link fences bordering the climbing route. From down below, we saw a red Tori, further up and we felt that this was the top. But, when we came to the 8th station, we got a rude shock, and realized, rather despondently that Japanese put Toris everywhere!

We then went from 8 to 9. The climb got a bit arduous here and hence exciting, as we tried to move on further. It was getting colder, steeper and windier. As we moved on further, we noticed that the moon was now on the other side of the mountain. Also, the climb was getting rocky and steep. The gradient was almost 80 degrees! We couldn’t climb as effortlessly on two legs as we had climbed previously. This portion of the climb had to be executed on all fours. We literally crawled, gripping rock crevices and finding foot holds in the rocky mountain face. There were signs here and about notifying climbers that it would get pretty windy as we went further, and true to the signs, it got really windy. As we glanced to the side, we noticed a huge patch of snow on the mountain slope. And we realized that the worst was yet to come. And sure enough, it started to rain. It was so cold! SO SO COLD! Add to it the fatigue of having climbed for so long, on all fours. So we had to stop, and when we did, we shivered, BIG TIME! The rain, the wind, and the sub-zero temperatures made it really difficult to keep strong. There was a shack at the 9th station. All of us bee-lined in front of it got in and went to a coal fire there and warmed our hands. Man that place was divine. Given a choice I would have preferred to be there till sunrise! But the shack owner was one step away from throwing us freeloaders out of the shack! So we sadly moved on! Sigh! For the first time, (again the first in a long series) I began to wonder why people climb! Braving the cold, the wind, the rains, and the glaring question was…. WHY DO PEOPLE CLIMB????

By now, our energy had begun to flag. We were on the sunrise face of the mountain and suddenly, WHAM! Up ahead, we saw almost 9 zigzag rows of people snaking their way up – all the way to the top! This was where all of us sighed in unison! NO! We’d climb; stop, almost as if we were in a queue. We saw the sun come up behind us, but we had not yet reached the peak. We were however not really too bothered about that fact. We were actually happy that the sun had finally come up. At least the weather would get a little warmer, if not anything else! For the first time in life, I welcomed the sunrise, (since otherwise it is always ‘Jeez why is it morning already!!!’) By the time we reached the top, final, white Tori at the top, it was around 7 a.m.

The guys went off to eat something but I stayed back to ….. SLEEP! I woke up after a while, and went off in search of the Fuji post office to post the cards I had brought with me. On my way, I passed the crater. I had read in the internet accounts that people generally walk all around the crater. But, in my case, I neither had the enthusiasm, nor the energy to walk around a gaping hole! Let alone walk around, I was having trouble walking on level ground! So I stood at the edge, and peered down below. Not a very pretty sight!!! I checked in some stalls, and they said that the post office was a good half hour away. Whoa! I didn’t have the time or the energy to walk so much, so in true Indian nature I bartered 2 of the vendor’s cards for two of my own and asked him to post them for me. He agreed and sure enough, they have reached their recipients! Marked ‘Mt. Fuji’, making them a very special collectible. I then got back to our group, and Siva, Arun and Mansi took our sticks for stamping, and soon thereafter we began the second leg of the journey – the downhill climb.

To begin with, we all started coming down together, and then, unable to maintain pace, we split into 3 groups of 2 each. Siva was my climbing down partner, and I am really sorry about that. I am by and far a very poor climbing down partner, with the capability to drive away all semblances of sharafat and gentility from a decent person! Arun had told us that coming down would be easier and faster, since the volcanic mud would be loose, and we could easily slide down! That is soooooooo not true… and I realized it only after I had gone all the way up and was forced to have to come down! What happened was, we began rather effortlessly, again fuelled by will power, with a 20 degree gradient and a mild wind for company. In just a few minutes however, it began to rain and it rained hard. We were engulfed in clouds, and felt the sudden coolness as a cloud wafted past us. So the wet mud was not conducive to sliding and whooppaa… plop.. plop… I landed on the ground at least 6-7 times, twisting my ankle (which has had a history of soreness) at least twice. My gloves were wet and I could barely grip my stick, since my fingers were getting numb. But climbing sans gloves was tough, since volcanic soil can be abrasive, when you fall, and so my palms got scratched a good many times. So there I was, cold, distraught and my ankle was in agony. Poor Siva – he had to put up with all these delays – tremendous patience indeed. I still remember the gentle exhortations – ‘Just one more lane – one more’ all in an attempt to jagao the dead adventurous spirit in me. Sorry man!!!

At one stage, I was really frustrated, since I had no idea how much more had to be traversed. We had a feeling that we had actually covered a decent amount of ground, and I felt that we would have not more than around 2.5 kms. We stopped some people, and asked them and they said that we still had around 5.5 kms left. I was in despair, downcast, down in the dumps, down everywhere except down at the foot of the mountain. I wished for a helicopter to appear out of nowhere and take me back to Kioicho. I wondered about the people I hadn’t said bye to before leaving and remembered the movie Cast Away. But leaving the histrionics aside, we had to move on. And move on we must. Determination kicked in – having to get over the frustration and physical pain to move on. My knees shook each time I stopped, thanks to the cold and now my calves were acting queasy as well. And I sooooooooo wanted to sleep! But we moved on and finally managed to reach the sixth station. After this, we took a detour and came through a forested route, which, for the record was lovely. The weather was now dew-fresh. And the prospect of soon reaching the base was even more enticing. Presently we reached the fifth station. We then washed up, posed for pictures and finally left the mountain after bidding adieu to the great Fuji san.

Once out of there and on the way back home, we all spoke of the experience and after I reached my apartment, I had the opportunity to sit back and reflect. I felt happy that I had decided to ‘go for it.’ It was something I had never tried before. Something adventurous I had never done. So what if it isn’t as precarious and life threatening as an Ethan Hunt climb in MI-2? It was nonetheless pushing my body to the frontiers. To the edge of forbearance and tolerance. It felt good to know that I had taken the plunge to put myself through this to experience the exhilaration that is the ‘I am at the top’ feeling. If someone were to ask me what I gained through the climb, I wouldn’t have been able to tell them then. Because I didn’t see the lakes, thanks to the clouds, didn’t walk along the crater, since it was too tiring, didn’t catch the sunrise at the peak, and the downhill trip was painful. But somewhere, a some other level, there was a certain weird sense of accomplishment and happiness.

So today, one year later, I do nothing but look back at the experience fondly, and wish I could climb another mountain soon!

The group - Arun Bhutra, Mangesh Ambetkar, S J Sivaraman, Mansi Dalvi, Neha Grover, Sindhu Subramaniam - A rocking team who made it all possible.....

Pictures courtesy - Arun, Mangesh, Mansi, Neha, Siva and I........