Story - by me

I am on a roll today. This is a story I had written long back.  It's a little long :)

Was a dark room.Could have been dingy..but it was too dark to see,could have been large,but was too dark to see...could have been small..did I miss the dark part??darn!she thought,there has to be some light,henceforth she'll contribute to the society of blind instead of feline rehabilitation,she then wondered whether it was tax benefits..She stumbled upon something and that bought her back to the reality.Why?she thought..why does she venture to all these places after reading the novels.A small voice inside her head said..because it was romantic and adventurous,another voice said..right!it also says you are gullible and prone to be cheated and that you are stupid and you had forgotten the torch.Hey!she said,in my defense,I dint plan to do this today.I had a lazy evening planned out... 
      It all started when she was returning to work after a lunch break.She was reading a book called Spaces by Alan Frank,she was so immersed in reading the novel that she had overshot her lunch time by almost an extra hour.She closed the half read book and gathered her things and hurried back.Thank god her office was only five minutes away.She can tell she was held up by a client.Not that anyone would ask.She decided that it was too late even to take the normal way and decided to take a shorter route through two old and abandoned buildings,she did it sometimes and it took her almost exactly at the back of her office. 
     She started to make her way through the rubble..darn globalization she thought..creates more rubbish than wealth..if rubbish were wealth..she sighed! and closed her eyes momentarily,she opened them and there was utter darkness..the first feeling was that of pure panic,had she gone blind??her friend had said she must not read in dim light so much.what will she do?then slowly she composed herself,closed and opened her eyes again,ok she could see some vague outlines somewhere,she was not blind(hopefully)but she must have taken some turn while thinking of wealth.darn again!where was she???in the buildings..she had no clue which one.they were so close together.Ok,she thought,she always wanted to find out what was there,so she could as well do it now..So she went ahead,with her hands out for balance,her bag and files seemed to have disappeared.Well..she'll worry about them later.She had to find her way out of here first. 
    So gathered herself after yet another stumble.How can there be absolutely no light she thought,the buildings were so damaged..one of the walls had completely collapsed and left a gaping hole..She went further,then there was a prick of light..yippee she thought,she followed the source and as she came close she was surprised to see that they were torchlights,ones with real fire,like the ones in ancient days..preferably in corridors to light the way..she was more curious now than shocked..maybe..just maybe..there will be something else beyond..what followed was a whole set of winding corridors,lit intermittently with the torches,then she reached a fork..the sane voice said..i think you need to go back.enough of this famous five adventure series..but she forged ahead,taking the right fork..After a while,the corridor led her to a door with an elaborate knob..which seemed out of place for a plain wooden door.She turned the knob in trepidation...it turned and opened..almost instantly she was blinded,because the room was startlingly white and devoid of everything except a small gold statue of indeterminate religious idol.She had no idea what to do?Was she supposed to take it,she reached out and then immediately there was a hiss in the room,like a warning and the room had turned imperceptibly cooler and dimmer,as she got closer,she had a feeling that she was being pulled back,lightly first time,but with more stress as she got closer,it got dimmer and she felt that the oxygen was sucked out of her lungs..she couldn't pull back as she was drawn to picking up the idol and something wasn't letting her get close to it...her lungs felt like they were on fire,the force holding her back was slowly crushing her and the pain was immense...with a great amount of difficulty she reached out and was just about to reach it....when.... 
        She raised her eyes and saw that she was in her seat at the cafe where she was sitting reading the book.She was still reading the book...except,it was on the last chapter and the next few pages were blank..like she was supposed to live the ending...She was living the contents of the book..literally!!!The book could take her where she wanted to,not just in her imagination but in reality and the ending would be completely made by her choices and would be forever printed in the book and passed on like of the previous person who had read it..she was chosen to continue till the author found the right ending.He would persevere till she found it for him or start another chapter.why oh why!!?? she thought,the previous had not chosen French Polynesia or something to visit..atleast death would have been in paradise since there was no guarantee of paradise in afterlife....She had to relive this everytime.

Shikaripura Adventures - Part II

So day 3 - Plan was to go to jog falls about 70 kms away. My aunt stays there in a small place called Kargal (not to be confused with kargil). We decided to set off after breakfast so that we can be back home by early evening as we had to drive back to Bangalore the next day. At 9:30,we get ready and are ready to leave when we see that the car has a flat (thanks to the atrocious stretch near Shimoga). So changing it and repairing the flat sets us back by a good hour and a half. The rest of the drive being quite uneventful. We reach Kargal at 1:00 pm.

Kargal's a town which caters largely to Karnaraka Power Corporation and Karnataka Power Trading Corporation (KPCL and KPCTL) staff and workers. It's clean,neat, well maintained and beautiful. We have a hearty lunch made by my aunt. The only next thing is to take a nap, especially given the weather and our full stomachs. About 4:00 we set off to see the Jog Falls , it's a drop of almost 829ft and is quite unnerving to look over the edge to the bottom. The falls need to be visited in monsoon to see it in all it's glory. Last time I visited there, it was nothing short of majestic. This time, after the monsoon, it's a ghost of it's monsoon self. Still a vision to see though. One can also visit the Linganmakki dam nearby. The rules have changed now due to the threats. Earlier, one could, with permission visit the power generating plant. We dint visit the dam as to was late and it would be closed. My uncle and aunt took us around Kargal and told us stories of china gate and mohini circle (yep..mohini circle..heheh..) and we sat around for a while, went home, had dinner and left. We reached home at about 10:00 or so. The neighbours were worried and were about to call us to and find out (that's how it's there, I dont even know my neighbours in my apartment and we've been there for almost a year). 

  Next day, we left for Bangalore at 1:30 pm hoping to reach home at 8:30 or so. The roads were terrible and worse than we thought, also the traffic had considerably increased, making progress slow. Picked up cousins alongthe way and stopped for tea late evening. After we left, we had a flat tyre again. Prashanth replaced them..again..and we set off...stopped at a village after tiptur to repair the flat..just in case. Rest was an uneventful drive. We reached nelamangala..finally... and took us a good two hours to navigate through traffic. We finally reached home at 10:30 pm. Something has to be done about those roads, because there were quite a few cars along the way with flat tyres. It's a punishment for any vehicle that is not a truck, bus or a jeep.

  I would recommend the hornad/malnad area for anyone who wants to see Karnataka. Please visit during the onset of monsoon or just after the monsoon season. Not during, at that time the rain just does not let up. It's breathtakingly beautiful place and one has to see it atleast once in their lifetime.

Shikaripura Adventures - Part I

Prashanth's parents have been transferred to a place called Shikaripura, near Shimoga (for people for whom the name sounds familiar, this is Karnataka CM Yediurappa's constituency). Since we had a long weekend of 4 days coming up in October, we decided to drive down there instead of taking the train/bus and see the places nearby.

   We left Bangalore at 6:00 am on thursday morning. The route is Tumkur - tiptur - arisikere - birur - shimoga - shikaripura on the Bangalore - Honnavara road. About 330 kms to Shikaripura.We reached Birur without any hassles by 11:00, no traffic at all. The road from there is really terrible or non existant till Shimoga. After that, they turn out fine. Reached Shikaripura at about 12:30 and had lunch and a nap. It's a small town nestled in the malnad. It's quiet, calm, really really green and beautiful.We set off in the evening for a drive nearby. There was supposed to be a town festival of some sorts happening for Vijayadashmi. So the four of us set off to see that. A beautiful drive later, we found out that we were a little late for the festivities. They had gotten over a while back. No harm done, watched a colourful sunset and drove back home. 

  We had decided to go to Shringeri next day which is roughly about 125- 130 kms from there. Set off early at 8.30 after breakfast. The countryside is gorgeous and breathtaking. Acres and acres of paddy fields gives the feeling of a bright green carpet covering the earth.The area, since it comes under evergreen forests of the Western Ghats is really green and gorgeous. In the rainy season, it'll be a vision. We stopped along the way at a place called Dam Hosur, a small dam has been built across Sharavathi. It's more like a barrier than an actual dam. The view was breathtaking. Really!..I am running out of synonyms ( some new words used here onwards will be courtesy thesaurus.reference.com ) . The roads are really nice, the landscape is best experienced if one drives moderately slowly. We stopped on a roadside stall for tea and bun - now this is something one has to try. It's unlike the regular bakery bun. It's sweet and salty at the same time and very tasty. Roadside stalls are the best places to get correct routes, have a little inside stories and get some really good tea/coffee. After being told a better route to get to shringeri, we set off and reached the place at 12:30. It was filled with people.Swarming is a better word. We had completly forgotten that the previous day was vijayadashami and festival time around there. There was also a rathotsav that morning and people had come from far to be a part of it. Oh well, nothing could be done, we parked and set off to see the goddess. After a lot of struggle, we did manage to see the idol. The goddess did look beautiful in all the finery. We then stood in queue for the threetha from the Swamy.Most temples in malnad serve lunch for all the devotees that come. It's done free of charge and the food is tasty, hot and served in a clean place. The people were well behaved and stood in queue for their turn. Serving of a three course meal, eating and cleaning happens in 15 minutes flat for one set of people. It is extremely well organised and smoothly run. We finished a filling lunch and went to see the rest of the place. We left shringeri at about 3:30 and started back. Stopped at Gajanur dam along the way near Shimoga. This is a dam and has all the security systems in place. People are not allowed beyond a certain point. Saw the dam, had the evening tea (I had coconut water, which is really tasty and filling) and drove back. reached Shikaripura at about 8:30 and had a simple dinner and went to sleep. 

Next day's plan was to go to Jog Falls...

Of being a Kannadiga and being a Bangalorean Part II

....continuing....

 Prashanth and I went furniture shopping in the beginning of the year, to get a stand to keep on TV on.We found a perfect one, we went to finalize on the price. The salesman refused to budge when I asked to quote a final price. Then, ta dah!!...Prashanth speaks to him calmly in Kannada, please note, even I spoke in Kannada. But he gives more attention to what Prashanth has to say (gender discrimination you think, nope.Other men were also treated like aliens), so finally he agrees to lower the price and waives the delivery charges. The delivery men also speak well to 'actual kannadigas'...humph..!!! i say!!!...sheer discrimination....

It's not just Prashanth, even his friends manage to get things done their way just by speaking in that twang of theirs. So does a friend of mine, Sunitha. I thought it was because she was persistent and adorable, but now I know the truth. It is because she's from Hassan, she does not speak 'bangalore kannada' you see. There were days when she made autos come to seshadripuram and she managed to convince them that they should not take 'double'. Man!!...I could not do that in all my days of travelling in autos and travel I have, a lot. 

You see, you do get treated well in old Bangalore if you speak kannada, but if you speak kannada from Uttara Karnataka or any other kannada that is not 'bangalorean', then you're royalty here. 

       So go ahead, eat jolada roti and ennegai and makkori. :)

Next post - UK lingo (Uttara Karnataka) for the wannabe kings/queens.

Of being a Kannadiga and being a Bangalorean Part I

I've been informed recently that these are distinctly different categories. Being a Bangalorean does not automatically make you a Kannadiga, even if you speak the language and have lived here virtually all your life.Honestly!!I was shocked too, I was rendered speechless for a whole ten minutes. That, monkeys, is a record, so give the statement the respect it deserves. So coming back to the topic. There are a few observations I've made, both in Bangalore and other places in Karnataka (yup, limited to my state today).

Bangalore is not considered a part of Karnataka by most Kannadigas - It's true, they treat it like some foreign country all by itself, like a necessary evil. Have to go there to earn money but hate the fact. In Hubli, and Belgaum, they think Bangalore girls are 'fast'. Ok no clue why, but they don't like girls from Bangalore and don't like Bangalore. They act like we're aliens and speak to us in English even after being informed that you speak, write and read Kannada. After that, they act surprised that you can do all the above. But they still snigger because your Kannada is so 'Bangalorean'. So sue me if my school taught me only Ambedkar's life in Kannada and how to write an essay on school sports day. I'll quote examples to prove the point.

Another day, Prashanth and I were returning from Kabini when we went up see the dam there. A surly looking policeman stopped us and said that people were not allowed beyond that point on the dam. We said ok, and were standing there, when he asked where we were from, before I could answer, Prashanth says Hubli (he is actually from there, if you were wondering). The policeman's stance softens considerably, starts speaking to him in Hubli Kannada and even asks a colleague to show us around the dam and the place. I was surprised at the sudden change. Then he asks Prashanth if even I was from Hubli, he says no, she's from Bangalore and they exchange knowing looks. I mean..hello...what's wrong with Bangalore. I love the place. Then he says that he doesn't trust people from here and he's also from north Karnataka. Ok. So we get special treatment because we are from Hubli. Prashanth's all pleased as a punch with himself for that reason and says see. See what? :P Maybe one off incident I say.Apparently not.

       Caught an auto one day, the man spoke to us in english, when we responded back in Kannada, he was extremely thrilled and decided not to ask us 50 Rs more he was planning. AfterPrashanth( yeah yeah...it has to involve him, to show the differential treatment) started speaking in that north Karnataka twang of his, the auto driver was thrilled and called Prashanth a true kannadiga type and gladly took us to the station without even the mandatory one and half they ask.Prashanth got that look on his face again.I mean...damn it!!...I know auto drivers are thrilled when you know Kannada,but what's with non Bangalorean kannadigas getting all the attention....

There is more, but this'll become a really long post..So part II will follow shortly.

The Rage Simmers

Every day, one opens the newspaper or switches on the TV; there is a mention of mob violence. Has it increased over the years? Is the media coverage responsible or are we blowing it out of proportion? All relevant questions, unfortunately, there are no easy answers. In a country of one billion people (overused cliché, but very important to mention) and counting, the economic equality or inequality plays a huge role. It has been oft mentioned that the economic gap between the rich and the por is widening. While it maybe true, it does not paint a completely clear picture. Yes, the rich are still rich, the poor are still struggling. The inflation eats into meager earnings of the people making it expensive to afford what they used to a few months back. So they get poorer. The health factor is also another major contributor. Many families have only one earning member, so when they fall sick, the medical bills eat into what they have. Unemployment reigns large. A few who do get out of it, manage to get a better life.

      But many people are stuck. Working in a manufacturing industry or a particular office is all they know. It is all they have done in their lives. When suddenly deprived of their life’s purpose and sustenance, they react violently. Change is not welcome. Years of having their voice suppressed and not being heard has given birth to the violent Indian. Anger when not given an outlet for release simmers slowly, this , when stoked by years of scraping for a decent lifestyle, corrupt politicians, of voice and feelings being stomped over and not heard has given rise to a rage, a rage simmering just below the surface waiting to erupt.

    Rage, when it does erupt is inconsolable. It knows no logic or humanity. It has a mind of it’s own. Rage, when it does erupt, leads to the lynching of a CEO for a perceived or a very real wrong done. It leads to the destroying of buses when someone is run over. It leads to people taking law in their own hands. Burning of churches, in Mangalore, in Orissa, is nothing but rage. Not many people actually even know why they are destroying churches, harming people (other than the fact that they have got money to do it). Their anger is stoked by a very skilled leader who convinces them that this is the right thing to do. They bad, we good. Carried away by all the sufferings they have faced, they go on a rampage. They destroy till the rage spent or they are arrested. Mobs, when angry can cause damage to a large extent. Mobs have been used by politicians to bring down other parties, to make others look bad. Plying with such an emotion will finally burn the one who’s started it.

    There are no easy solutions to these problems. They probably existed even before some of us were born. Decades of tolerance for a better future has not yielded the result Indians have been waiting for. The patience is wearing thin. They are not happy. The angry Indian is here to stay, hopefully, if things go well, his stay can be short and lessons can be learnt from him so that we do not repeat the same mistakes.

A Way of Life

Every morning I follow a ritual, get up, brush, make myself a cup of coffee and read the newspaper. The newspaper is an integral part of my daily routine. I see the paper, mentally mark the articles I find interesting and then come back and read them again. Some articles merit only the cursory reading of the headline. The rest is to be savored. The whole ritual lasts about 15-20 minutes (reduced
unfortunately) because of lack of time. The only time I get to read the whole newspaper is the weekend. I especially love Sunday supplements. With the book reviews, the pictures and the general information. I remember Sunday was the only day when newspapers were printed in colour. We used to get about three different newspapers on Sunday. The whole family used to sit down after breakfast and read the
newspapers in turn. It used to be good.

The newspapers are not the same quality anymore. With the advent of sensationalism and yellow journalism, good old reporting often takes a backseat. The headlines are in a huge font with limited or repeated information in the body. Well, this can also be blamed on the internet and a vast amount of information available online almost immediately. People tend to log in and read as the event is happening so when the newspapers come in the next morning, we already know half of it. If we've missed the internet news, we have roughly 4584 news channels running news 24X7. That's a lot of news. So by the time the newspaper comes in the morning, we know most it. But why do we still get newspapers. I believe that somewhere I am attuned to trust only the newspaper. Even when the channels announce a school holiday the next day, I will believe it completely only if I read it in the newspapers. It's wired into our systems, I think we inherently do not trust the media which gives us a minute by minute update. It feels like one is just assuming a lot of things and jumping to conclusions. On a newspaper, it is somehow, final and sure. The written word is very powerful. It implores us to think, to react and to act. People still believe in the newspaper. They still want to hold the paper in their hands and get black print on their fingers to believe what they heard on the TV last night is true. Newspaper's word is law.

It will be a long time for the newspapers to go out of the reckoning. By the time they do, I hope that I will be too old to read one anyway. Because newspapers are a way of life. Because that one rare day they
do not print them, I feel like I have been cheated and will never know what's happening with the rest of the world. I feel that my day is incomplete without it. Another day, another newspaper, another cup of
coffee. Life's good. Because newspapers for me is more than just news, they are a way of life.