Mera Desh - II

Enough of Bangalore, lets come to Kolkata and WB. Well the papers always say it’s a new kolkata. Orkut communities are there on this but alas, I find no change. The flyover started 2 years back is still under construction and people say its going so fast. A 20 year old Bisharpada-Kodaliya station is still called a new station. But then I realized modernization of kolkata is not bangalorization of it. Its developing more in what they are good at. EVverything is BIG in kolkata. And so was the city center mall. It was 3 times forum Bangalore. And ofcourse, almost 30% of it was food court. Now that is Kolkata for you. Another was Sourav ganguly. Bengalis support him not because of he plays good, nor because he is a Bengali but because they are Bengalis. Even a novice to cricket will be ready to discuss the villainy of Chapell and Dravid. Thank god some do spare Sachin. But then no comments. It’s their choice. They are the kolkatans. Something bad is the open love culture. Earlier I thought what’s wrong. That’s just not Indian but definitely not bad. But later when Advay told that in the beautiful Millenium park which is on the banks of Ganga, overlooking Howrah bridge and Vidyasagar setu on either side, smooching was the most decent thing that was going on, I was spellbound. Comeon, liberation doesn’t mean this.

Another thing I learnt was everybody has a point. About Singur I thought, Mamata Bannerjee is just grabbing some attention, which any outsider also felt including my friends in other cities. I thought what crap, the way industries are extinct in WB, may be, govt should even hand out Victoria memorial to be demolished. But no, things are not that simple. Singur is one of the most fertile land in India. To give that away for industry is harmful for local people, the environment and the country when WB does have wastelands not very far away. I was also shocked to now that India is now importing food again thanks to our agriculture minister who is taking more interest in cricket than the most pressing problem of India.

During my stay, I learnt more and more. Many things made me happy, many irritated me to the core. You had to speak out everywhere even at the grocery shops, on with louder voice gets things faster. Inspite of all this, I couldn’t stop cryinig on the last day. After all in sab cheeon se hi tho life bani hai.

Mera Desh -I

I have so many things to write. My recent trip to India was full of such stories. But then I realized the biggest thing. Almost all of us( who are back after a India trip) had their own stories. And it was all about the same things, how India is not that shining as we thought it was from far away. How it was polluted, corrupt, but still India is good old India. These would have been 3-4 blog topics for me but then everybody is writing about it.

What shocked me the most was a chat with bharat. I told him that I am feeling so damn homesick and want to go back now, without finishing the MS. He said he too felt the same and not just him but everybody around. Then I told him-“But you know, there was a time in India when I was dying to be back here.” He said even that is not unique to you and all of us felt that. These dialogues shocked me coz I thought they were my very own. But they turned out to be every tom dick and harry’s feelings.

I had thought of somethings that I will never do when I go to India. Like cribbing about the lifestyle there and saying good things about US. But I had to. On the very next day. Because I was down with cold. People were saying that may be the cold was too much for you. They made me feel like some fulkumari. But then I had to tell them, its not the cold, it’s the pollution here. Coz that was THE reason. Next was the dollar-rupee thing. I couldn’t stop telling the prices in dollars> now how the hell are you supposed to convert dollars per pound to rupees per kg?

Bangalore was just the same. People always cribbing about the airport traffic but then I still did never face it. And 2 of the same people, when they came to kolkata for my bro’s marriage, realized what Traffic jam was. Another thing was software people and their salaries. Somehow people are never happy. Anu showed me a skit video. People earning 6 lpa within 2 years are calling their salaries peanuts. Tap Tap Tap, these bangaloreans are crazy. Another thing about Bangalore was the prices. They were just Rs converted to dollars. No cost of living differences. For 100 Rs, you don’t get coffees as good as starbucks while here u get an excellent one for 2.5$.

But yes, I enjoyed Idli and more idli. I couldn’t stop eating idlys in the numerous sagars of Bangalore. And last but not the least Forum mall, Bangalore. People say Garuda is bigger, better, more strategically placed. I don’t disagree. But forum mein ek apnapan lagta hai mujhko. Aisa lagta hai ki barson se yahin aata hoon. Same feelings for PVR where even a movie like Happy Feet (its te worst cartoon I have seen till date) is houseful on a Monday afternoon show.

Contd in the part 2 blog

Are books like movies? "The Inheritance of Loss"

I have just finished reading “The inheritance of Loss”. I find uncanny similarity in the writing style with Arundhati Roy. There will be some wonderful descriptions, there will be a loose story, there will be bursts of emotions at places and hen there will be a vague ending. I haven’t read any other booker winner books but seems like this kind of writing is a preferred style. I can only compare this with art movies and commercial movies. There are some typical movies which are like made for awards. Take the “Pather Panchali” for example. People say it’s a masterpiece. It surely is, be it the cinematographic techniques or be it the acting or the storyline. But the film does not leave you happy after you see it.

Somehow after reading the book Inheritance of Loss, I feel I am lost. I thought I have read lots, but this book pulls me back to where I started. Do I need to read much much more? Agreed I have not read the Shakespeare or even the Tolstoy. According to my parents, I have not learnt anything unless I read Rabindranath Tagore. But still I felt I am well above the mass. I have read the Austen and Bronte, I have read starting from Thackeray to Puzo, and I liked it all. I had started with Secret seven, Malory Towers and now have grown out of the gripping Archers and Browns. I find them good no longer. ( I heard that is a sign of growing up.) I have read my Ayn Rand as much as I am in love with Harry Potter. Harry, Feluda, Byomkesh Bakshi are on my fingertips and I have read them as many times as I have read V=IR as an electrical engineer.

But this book like “God of Small things” has left me lost somewhere. Its neither peace nor distress. You can get the real picture of so many things. I could see the dirty side of all the Visa consulates, the beauty of Kalimpong. I feel I have learnt a lot, yet it has created a vacancy somewhere. I felt exactly the same way after reading “God of Small Things”. You get an in-depth view of Syrian Christians, the beauty of emotions etc. But then all the characters are so imperfect. The illicit affairs, the poor people vows, nothing seems good. Yet you keep reading it. Is that what is called good writing? Or is it the Indian style of writing? Even Khushwant Singh writes dirty words. But people like even that.

I think I want something soothing. Neither the high adrenaline murder mysteries nor these dwelling with imperfect characters. My style is more of Pride and prejudice kinds. Where there are pages and pages on ones composure on seeing ones beloved. The idea of looking good is of primary importance. I liked “Namesake” also, one of my bests amonst the recent reads. There are such strong characters, and instead of everybody being wrong, everybody is justifiable, everybody is right.

Well I am confused. Where do I stand. I do want to stand out of the group who are happy with a few Dan Browns and one or 2 classics to write on the hobbies of the numerous networking sites. But I am ending up nowhere.

Sandipan’s Bollywood awards 2006

Well am really overwhelmed by my blog readership. I get so few comments that I was very depressed. But I guess putting a link on orkut helps. Many do read but never comment.

Anyway after a terrific dhoom 2 (sadly not many agree with me, but then I liked Tango Charlie after watching Rog, so after Vivah, dhoom 2 is just too good) here I announce the Sandipan Bollywood awards 2006.

Ok be prepared for a typical Sandipan awards, for there will be plenty of partialities. After all even Oscar and filmfare is not without favoritism. And a close second award will be awarded in some cases. There will be a special category of Razzie awards as well.

Here we go. Let me start with the BollyRazzie awards.

Worst Film: Chingaari

Worst Actor: Shahrukh Khan, He was such a great disappointment in KANK.

Worst Actress: Sushmita Sen , for chingaari. Was that a movie?

Anyway now I come to The mainstream awards.

Best Story: Goes to Nagesh Kuknoor for Dor. The story is original. That qualifies it for the award.

Best Song: Kyon aajkal neend kam khwaab zyada of “Woh Lamhe”. I just love that song. Its so easy to sing.

Best Music Director: A.R. Rahman , “Rang De Basanti”. Well there was no other movie with all good songs.

Best Singer(Male) : Atif Aslam , Tere Bin in “Bas Ek Pal”. Well the song still tops the chart, that is one reason. And the other one is that my fav heroines, Juhi n Urmila, got to feature somewhere.

Best Singer (Female): Madhushree(previously known as Sujata Bhattacharya), Tu Bin Bata in “Rang De Basanti”. There can’t be anything better. The song has such a soothing effect. Though it’s a duet, the girl still scores.

Now 2 new categories of awards. The first one is just to make my fav heroine happy, but the second one, even filmfare should start soon.

Best television interview: John Abraham in Seedhi Baat. The best part of the interview is that how quickly John adapts to the Hi-fi hindi of the host and though I guess he has a awful hindi, he manages pretty well.

Best Item Song: Bipasha Basu for Beedi in “Omkara” . Well you can say I am partial, but in this case, there is just nobody better this year. She immortalized Billo Chamanbahaar.

Lets move on to the main awards now.

Best Comedian: Arshad Warsi as Circuit in “Lage Raho Munnabhai”. Any doubts? He was just too good. He deserved it for Munnabhai MBBS also.

Best Supporting Actor: John Abraham for “Baabul”. Let’s just say that I am taking a futuristic view at the movies yet to come. Afterall Bips has to be happy.

Best Supporting Actress: Bipasha Basu as Shonali/Monali Bose in “Dhoom2”. She just looked stunning. Well I know this is not the ideal choice but then I am the judge. But yes, here are two seconds. Ayesha Takia for “Dor”.Gul Panag was the heroine but Ayesha was just too good. And Konkona Sen Sharma for “Omkara”. Nobody can beat her.

Probably the award will go to Preity for KANK, but that was Ugh.

Best Villain: Here there are 2 firsts. And no second. Saif Ali Khan as Langda Tyagi in “Omkara” and ofcourse Hrithik Roshan as Aryan in “Dhoom2”

Best Actor: Without doubt it should go to Hrithik Roshan as and in “Krishh”. The movie was top grosser of the year, and the only reason for the movie to be hit was him.

Best Actress: This was a male dominated year. Umrao Jaan was a disaster and don’t have high hoes from Baabul too. I have 2 choices, a first and a close second. The award goes to Bipasha Basu as Nishigandha Dasgupta in “Corporate”. She acted as a glam doll, a psyhic as well as a true businesswoman in the movie.

The close second best goes to Kajol as Zooni Ali Beg in “Fanaa”. She was the best part in the entire movie.

Best Director: Vishal Bharadwaj for “Omkara”. The direction was just awesome

Best Film: Now this is close call and I agree with the Oscars committee. “Rang De Basanti” is my movie of the year but a very very close, almost jointly second is “Lage Raho Munnabhai”.

So there we end the award function. Hope you liked the Special dance show by Dhoom 2 crew during the ceremony.[:)]

The Namesake (I Am Spellbound)

This is my first attempt at book reviews. And i am overtly enthralled that it is for this book.
I have read "Interpreter of Maladies" a few years back. I instantly became a fan of her writing. Though it nagged me that she always writes about this topic of divided lives of either the ABCD's or about the NRI's, there is never a boring moment unless you hate the concept through and through. So if you are not against reading this particular type of stories which u may be prompted to if u have seen too many of these east meets west kind of movies. I will never read "Mi Nathuram Godse Boltoy" just because i don't think a wrong man can brainwash my believes. But i know the book is a very good one.
Anyway coming to the point. At certain points I did feel that the book was meant for the world apart form india and the bengalis. For the non-bengali indians I felt that there is a feeling of so close, yet so far. For rest of the world, who don't know ndian culture, this surely adds another dimension to the book. Know-more-about-India sort of. But then as I went deeper into the book, this seemed less and less important.
The bengali things you need to know:
1) Mutton is at its best when cooked with potatoes.The potatoes are as cherished as the mutton itself.
2) You call the family friends not as Mr and Mrs . Surname but as Mashi and Mesho or Kaku and Kakima.
Well that's all.
Now about the book. The best part is the storyline. You never feel bored. Just when u seem to feel that this topic is now growing on me, whoosh, it is as if Jhumpa gets a invisible signal and the scenes change. Its always sweet and makes you think so much and yet never leaves you feel depressed.
The way the story deals with the untimely deaths is utterly fascinating. After each death, she doesn't concern with the mourns but the coping up, the other relevances and does not exemplify with the tremendous word power she has got. She could have made you cry, but she leaves the situtation to the reader. Instead she moves on.
She has never gone typical melodramatic. Never do you see the parents forcing something on their children, never do they say no to any change. The character of the lead lady, Ashima is so wonderfully carved. She is traditional but not to the extreme. She is modern, not to the extreme. I feel she is the best character in the story. So strong yet so vulnerable.
Another salient point in the whole story is, rather the heart of the book, the relevance to the title. The book of Nikolai Gogol. At every stage, you never feel that Nikolai Gogol is out of the book. I have not read any of his work but now I do plan to read up "The overcoat". If Jhumpa Lahiri is also a fan of this book and the author, then I would say, this is the best way one can pay tributes to someone else.
In the end, I woud just like to mention that each character in this book is so well off by themselves and so beautifully crafted, that Jhumpa Lahiri can make her entire life by writing the same book with respective angles. It felt that each character can be rewritten about so many times like pole do for Arjun, Karna and Draupadi in Mahabharat.

Basanti Hawa-Kedarnath Agarwal

Here, I put a poem by Kedarnath Agarwal, its not even out of my memory, searched form the net, so ideally i should put it here. Hindi Poems Blog This website is a wonderful collection of Hindi poems. Ideally i should just point to that webpage but i just couldn't resist the temptation of putting it in my blog! I just loved this poem. The words are so well chosen, you actually feel as if u are wind.

I would suggest, read out loud, and nonstop, if possible in one breath.

बसंती हवा

हवा हूँ, हवा मैं

बसंती हवा हूँ।

सुनो बात मेरी -

अनोखी हवा हूँ।

बड़ी बावली हूँ,

बड़ी मस्त्मौला।

नहीं कुछ फिकर है,

बड़ी ही निडर हूँ।

जिधर चाहती हूँ,

उधर घूमती हूँ,

मुसाफिर अजब हूँ।

न घर-बार मेरा,
न उद्देश्य मेरा,
न इच्छा किसी की,

न आशा किसी की,
न प्रेमी न दुश्मन,
जिधर चाहती हूँ
उधर घूमती हूँ।
हवा हूँ, हवा मैं
बसंती हवा हूँ!

जहाँ से चली मैं

जहाँ को गई मैं -

शहर, गाँव, बस्ती,

नदी, रेत, निर्जन,

हरे खेत, पोखर,

झुलाती चली मैं।

झुमाती चली मैं!

हवा हूँ, हवा मै

बसंती हवा हूँ।

चढ़ी पेड़ महुआ,
थपाथप मचाया;
गिरी धम्म से फिर,
चढ़ी आम ऊपर,
उसे भी झकोरा,
किया कान में 'कू',
उतरकर भगी मैं,
हरे खेत पहुँची -
वहाँ, गेंहुँओं में
लहर खूब मारी।

पहर दो पहर क्या,

अनेकों पहर तक

इसी में रही मैं!

खड़ी देख अलसी

लिए शीश कलसी,

मुझे खूब सूझी -

हिलाया-झुलाया

गिरी पर न कलसी!

इसी हार को पा,

हिलाई न सरसों,

झुलाई न सरसों,

हवा हूँ, हवा मैं

बसंती हवा हूँ!

मुझे देखते ही

अरहरी लजाई,
मनाया-बनाया,
न मानी, न मानी;
उसे भी न छोड़ा -
पथिक आ रहा था,
उसी पर ढकेला;

हँसी ज़ोर से मैं,
हँसी सब दिशाएँ,
हँसे लहलहाते
हरे खेत सारे,
हँसी चमचमाती
भरी धूप प्यारी;
बसंती हवा में
हँसी सृष्टि सारी!

हवा हूँ, हवा मैं

बसंती हवा हूँ!

- केदारनाथ अग्रवाल

Love struck

No no, I am not love struck yet, just watching and reading many love stories. Mera naseeb hi kahaan. People keep asking me “koi gori mili kya?” But here, forget whites, not even any black, brown, yellow, blue or even green. Oops, I shouldn’t mention colors. So ignore the last line and replace with –“Forget Caucasians, not even Africans, South Asians, Mongoloids, mermaids or even aliens.”

Anyway, that’s not the point of the blog! 2 of my friends either proposing their GF’s or taking up the issue with parents, made me at least look for love in movies n books. I started with Dilwale Dulhaniya Le Jayenge. Wonderful movie. I agree that there are loads like it and you begin to hate that too when you see it, but we should not forget that it was the pioneer, and definitely a welcome break form Shahrukh Khan’s dark movies- Darr, Baazigar etc and of course better than Govinda’s flashy clothing and bhabhie movies. The movie was immensely funny at times with so many typical Shahrukh’s and typical Kajol moments. But the scenes like catching hand from the running train and getting behosh at time of karwa chauth really brings smile to your face. Frankly, the movie made me think. Where am I going, too busy with career to forget the simpler fun.

Love scores- 1-0

But no, the next movie opened my mind. It was Bas Ek Pal. The movie stars my two favorites. Juhi and Urmila. But frankly, the movie was so bad. Only I could bear their looks, so I could stay up till the end. But ya, the movie points to another aspect. And I hate that aspect of love. I agree, its ok to fall in love, but why pursue it if it’s not two way. Surely Sanjay Suri, though he had good intentions, could have just let the people as they are and forget about Urmila, but no that was not to be. Love is blind, but atleast lovers have eyes. Open your eyes, people.

Love looses- 1-1.

Now the next one and this is the best, rather this is what I wanted to write the blog for. It’s the last story of “Interpreter of the Maladies”. The story is “The third and final Continent”. Do read it. I should put a spoiler warning here, but if you believe me/arundhati, reading further won’t prevent you from reading the story. Halfway through the story and you think the story is about a guy and his struggles in the initial days in USA. Already bored with the topic? There are zillions of storied and movies like this, but there come Jhumpa Lahiri, she won’t let you put down the book. Till half the story there are limited references about how he HAD to marry before coming home and how he received the first letter from his wife in English as a part of her getting prepared to come to USA. But as she touches USA, she steals the show. The way Jhumpa describes their first moment of liking each other, I was spellbound. Never was arranged marriage so appealing. Arranged marriage had only won once before, and that too in Hum Dil De Chuke Sanam, but that is hardly a match. Well what should I rate this incident as, love scores or it looses?

Let’s make it a draw. 2-2.

But love wins, I want it to. And so I finish of this love week with Love Actually. Its really one of the best movies I believe. Several sweet love stories sweetly blend together and the wonderful PM speech where he tells what Britain is famous for. To add to the wonderful story line it has gorgeous people and the awesome British accent. Love scores. 10-2.

Reminds me, color of love is red. So that’s another color. All lovers are red in color.

Apne Moonh miya mitthu

Well, the article is about how i am so good, but as i thought of the title, lots of thoughts poured about the title also. Had a funny sensation. Everytime i open my mouth to say ths, its ens up being a round shape of the lips. Mitthooo. And feels like I have paan in my mouth. Anyway, enough of that.
These stories below somehow relate my ability to tackle difficult situations, whether that is good or bad, I leave for you to decide.

The first one was may 2004, 24th may to be exact.
I was coming back to bangalore form my college for the last time. 23rd was my last day at the college. I had a suitcase, a bag, a trunk and 3 boxes for computer. And as expected I missed the suitcase when I was getting off. I realized it as soon as I got my bags in an auto and so asked the auto to follow the bus but it had long gone. So i headed for bro's home where parents were also there then. I kept my cool and thought of future plan of action. As soon I reaced home, broke the news there, they were obviouosly irritated. They asked me if it had my certificates and all. I said no, though it was there. Atleast why increase their tension. Then I called upu the travel company and asked them about my bag. They said the bus has not reached its final destination yet but will reach soon. We just asked where the bus stops and me and dad headed off there. It was KRPuram, the eastern end of bangalore. Meanwhile I kept calling and finally we traced the driver. He said he has a suitcase and will leave it near our house ka stop at night. But mom and dad didn't believe in that. Finally we found the bus at Bannerghatta, the southern corner and came back.
Well what's great miya mitthu in this? It was for me, first of all, my parents were so tensed over a small thing, what would have happened if I had told them that it had all my docs? Secondly the tracing till the end location was solely done by me and though everybody mom,dad and bro lost their cool, i was composed. And it was because of that , we could trace the bag.
Now whether my suggestion of waiting for the driver to drop it near the house was a good idea or not, i leave it at your choice.

The second one is better.
This was the day of my GRE. I was taking it form bangalore. Brother was in Kolkata, his roomie in office far away. I was alone at home preparing. Test was from 1. At 10:30 i decide to act according to what ananth had said and went to the vinayaka temple nearby. Did puja with full devotion. Coming back, had pongal rice in Shanti Sagar and then went back to home. But alas, I have no key. Rather, i have dropped the key somewhere. Looked for it on the road, no use. Called up Sourav da, bro's roomie. He says he can't come as he is badly stuck up with meetings.
And i had the passport inside without which i just can't go for the test. It was almost 11:45. I asked the landlords, no use. Then called up my bro in kolkata, he suggests: Tublu, forget GRE, keep yor cool and search again. I knew that was useless and the idea o forgetting GRE after months of preparartion was just not the choice I would like. I kept his call. Now there was only 1 way. With all the courage , I start banging at the thick wooden door. 5 shots, the fifth one, Bam, it opens up. I still remember, when the bolts gave up and the door opened, i still had my leg in the air, I took tiime, took it down like Neo does in matrix, first putting it on one side and then moving it down. I savoured every moment. then went for the test.
Well i guess in this case, there is no mia mitthu explanations needed. Its self explanatory:)

I agree that both the incidents were for my carelessness and a normal person would not have done that. But i bet a nnormal person would not have reacted the same way also if it DID happen.

My plays/skits, we call it NATOK

Another Durga puja has started and as I read through my past year puja blog, I feel I have missed out a lot. And I also realize that durga puja is not something to be covered in one blog and owing to the fact that I don't see myself taking part in the durga pujas in near future, I better be a bit kanjoos about sharing all my ideas.

So this is about plays. Well let me first tell you that I am very stage shy and my tension really shows up on stage also. But still I managed to act in 4 plays during various durga pujas.

The story would be incomplete without mentioning my family background in terms of the play. All of them more stage smart than me, my mom a regular in playback singing, has done only one play in her childhood as the small girl in Rabindranath’s “Dakghor. My elder brother was lucky enough to be one of the two kids who approach a granny to tell a story where the story was the drama, so he was just for a minute. But best role award goes to my dad who acted as one of the victims in Jaliyanwala baag massacre. So four plays by me is a feat in itself.

Anyway my first play was according to the family traditions. The story was a small boy wanting to meet the sun and asking everybody on the way. He asks the ants, he asks the nilkanth or the Indian roller (a bird). I was one of the newborn little birds who hopped away and later was dragged back to the nest while the mom was talking to the kid. That was all I had to do. Hop and get pulled back. This was when I was in 1^st standard.

Second was more substantial. It was a big play about the mess the durbar creates and catches an innocent boy for a thief. I was one of the courtiers who keep cracking jokes.

The hard part came when in a scene I had to do “kaan pakadke uthak baithak” (situps holding ur ears) and show the convict his punishment. Even though I was a small kid of 10 that time, it hurt my ego too much; I planned to backoff from the play. Mom n dad scolded me a lot but when they saw that I was adamant, they finally had to accept it. But the director aunty understood my problem and twisted the role a bit. So while I said the dialogue, somebody else did the action. During the play, because of that act, the guy was an instant hit. And me a mere actor.

The third one came when I was in 7^th standard. This time I was the lead. Not because of my acting skills, because I was the so called “brainy” guy in the colony and I could memorize the loads of dialogues I had to deliver. This play was all about some mischief committed by the boy and his 2 friends. The boys sis had a crucial part too. I mention it here coz this girl was also there with me in the other 2 plays. Her nickname is tuktuki.

Anyway, people really appreciated my role this time and I was glad about it.

The fourth play was a year later and it was a real good one. It was about a woman and a man scheming of kidnapping a girl and we 5 people, dampen their plans. I was the fourth important amongst the 5. The funniest part was a birthday scene. It was the last scene itself and the last part of that was there was food served and we said three cheers and cheered our glasses and started eating! We were asked not to eat it but just to pretend until the curtain falls and later do whatever we want. But the bhukkad me had to act oversmart! I couldn’t stop putting the samosa in my mouth and as predicted I did choke and started coughing spoing the end scene. But overall it was real fun.

Again I conclude abruptly here! There were no further plays.

Mangalore-My love (beware, its too long)

Often during my conversations with Vikram, even now, suddenly we feel a craving to forget everything in the present and go back to the good old days, of college and hostel life.
But readers wait! This is not another of "Oh those good old days..those were the days" kind of story where its all about how hostel was funny and ragging was a blessing in disguise. Infact I planned to write a detailed description of all places, but then thought better i be some brand ambassador of Karnataka tourism. Instead I describe one incident here which sort of summarizes my love of what I like about Mangalore, rather DK district.

It was around 2^nd week of November 2004. I was in Infy Mysore and was aspiring for MS in US. Since me and Vikram had started this venture together we decided that it was high time we go back to the college (I graduated in June 2004 from NITK) for transcripts and recos. I started from Mysore, in Ideal Travels and reached Surathkal at around 5:30 am. Vikram arrived at 6:30 and we booked a room in Maharaja hotel, though it was a more common practice amongst the ex-students to stay with the juniors in the hostel blocks, but we had too much work to take it to hostel and frankly we were afraid of the numerous questions by the juniors.

Now let’s fast forward a bit, went to college, missed on one prof (out of station) and the other professor said no. Only one of them had agreed to give reco. But surprisingly, the best and the most strict professor and erstwhile HOD, Late Dr. P N Shridhar voluntarily agreed to give me recos. These things took up the whole day and since the success rate was only 66%, even Vikram had similar experiences, we were pretty down.

I don’t even remember what I did that day afterwards, but I remember sharing my frustration with mom over phone who suggested to further approach the prof who rejected saying that as teachers are inherently good people, he will agree. And believe me, it worked, the prof was really happy and said he wanted to see my real zeal. Well all went well and things were finally in place by 12 noon though we had to be back at around 2.

Oops, here my story actually begins. Such a long prologue, but well that’s my style!

Anyway, so now we have 2 hours to spare in NITK. We rush to the sadashiva temple near the college beach. This is one temple I like immensely mainly for its quiet atmosphere. Here our usual frightening priest was waiting. Frightening I say because he has typical Brajesh Mishra looks and I have a feeling that he doesn’t like college students coming in all odd dresses and without bath and pray and never even bother to put something in the donation box. But it was a rule that he will serve the holy charnamrit and a tiny ball of chandan to all who offer prayers.. He did that with such a pathetic face. But things change as soon as you ask for 7 Rs or 10 Rs Prasadam. This time we were prepared. We were earning J. I donated a new rs 5 in the hundi and asked him for another 7 Rs prasadam. Vikram, the rich obviously went for the 10/- prasadam. Now he gave us a broad smile, chanted mantras for us for 5 minutes, gave us big balls of chandan and of course a broad smile. Whew, we were relieved. After a hurried tour of the other surrounding temples and a hurried look at the art on the temple walls, we had to sit in the temple before leaving the temple as taught to us by Ananth.

It was barely 2 seconds and we set off again towards the beach. Happily eating the 17/- worth of prasadams, we spent an hour in the beach. We were quite silent in the beach. And each of us was thinking about ourselves. Generally I always feel this way when I go to the beach. The vastness of the sea makes me so humble that I feel I should pour my heart out to it as it can absorb anything. This way, when it was nearing 2 I never knew and had to run to reach the college.

The work was over in an hour and now the real fun was going to start! A race against time. 8 hours in hand and so many places to go. So here we go! Take a bus to surathkal. Typical bus, with lots of women dressed in their best of saris and tones of jewelries is a regular scene in the buses. And there is a marriage somewhere everyday. Anyway, in 5 minutes we reach suarthkal, hurriedly leave the transcripts and reco in the hotel and set off for the bus again. But alas, not so soon. Mr. Vikram has to have juice in Oasis. Now this is a wonderful place worth mentioning. It looks shabby where any parent will ask his pupils not to go. But surprisingly after cautious try for a few days, when nothing happened with these wonderful and thick 5/- juices, we had become a fan. My favourite was unconventional carrot juice and rose milk, but Vikram preferred the apple n grapes. After some 4-5 glasses each we catch yet another local bus with even more jhatackpatack women in even more jhatatckpatack saris and jewelries and head full of gajras. Well to tell you frankly, I really like the simplicity in these women, these old traditional dressing sense is lot better than so called “aaj ki naari” wearing short tops but then always pulling it down.

After half an hour we reach NMPT bus stop. The panambur beach is nearby. We had time shortage, so we took auto for a distance of about 1.5 kms which we generally love to cover by walking. And here we are again: In front of the sea. But this is entirely different. This is not where I loose myself to the sea, but here I see the sea of people merging with the Arabian sea. All sorts of people, the family types, the bunch of high school riends, the shy couple, the bold couple, the old uncle and aunty, the rich family, the poor family but everybody now equally madly in love with the sea. The food in this beach varied considerably. From gobi Manchurian to sugarcane sticks, form boiled wet whole groundnuts to the favorite “Churmure”. But we had other plans for food. We went far away inside the jetty! Now water was on all the three sides. We sat on the rocks and as usual we started talking about careers and it dwelled to my favorite topic o how I wish to own the “N V Hegde” house just next to the KREC beach.

It was almost 5:30-6:00 when we left that place. Took another bus this time and reached Saibeen. The biggest mall in Mangalore that time. It did have those swanky shops but not the usual branded ones, instead u see all local names. And full of Dubai merchandise. Vikram had to renew his neck chains bead. And then how can we miss the chamcham and the Badaam Milk of Shreyas sweet shop in the ground floor. After more window shopping and buying something totally unnecessary from Joofri’s superstore, we head for our final destination. Jyothi circle.

Here it was almost 7, stomach half full but so many places to go. Firstly there has to be poptates eatery. Poptates the Persian chicken grill shop specialized in chicken rotisserie. We finished a whole chicken between the two of us. This was just the appetizer. After that we had to go to Hao ming Chinese restaurant though we were not even a bit hungry. But coming to mangalore and not going to Hao Ming was like going to Agra and not seeing the taj mahal. So as if to appease the Hao Ming Goddess, we went and had some noodle dish. Now we were filled till the chest. After this we went to the new place “Liquid Lounge”, the swanky new pub in mangalore. Ordered some drinks and thought this will be it. But there was chicken salad and the rani salad which we had to order. Don’t ask me why we had to. You should never ask those questions when Vikram is around. As soon as we saw the quantity, we had almost given up our hopes to even inish half of one, but believe me, they were so so tasty that in no time, we see empty plates ahead of us. Now full upto the neck, we start heading back towards the bus stand. But then our eyes fall on Iceberg. Another analogy like the Agra one suggested and we head there. We couldn’t even walk. But we order 2 ice creams there. Thankfully, I guess icecream took no extra space and fit itself in all the small vacant places left around the stomach to neck. Now we dragged ourselves somehow to the busstand and caught the bus to Surathkal. The express bus (pronounced EsssssPresssssssss) literally flew to Surathkal in no time at all. I saw Vikram eyeing towards Sads restaurant. I was like “ no Vikram, I finally give up.” But then he said, “not the restaurant buddhu, the paanshop.” Asking the paanwala to put extra gulab…(ooops I forgot this name, but it’s a sweet jelly with embedded rose petals) we eagerly looked at it and each of us trying to grab the one which had more of it. And believe me, that paan digested all the food we had. Kit really had miraculous power.

Finally our trip came to an end. We packed our bags, checked out of hotel and caught our buses back to Mysore/Bangalore. While coming back I realized that this may be my last trip in a long long time. But then proper justice was done to all the places.

Mangalore for me is the beach. It is the temples, it is the richly clad women with flowers on their heads, it’s the fish stink that lingers all the time. It is the nice blend between modern and old. It’s the rich religious mix (Hindu, Muslim Christian in equal numbers) of the people and it is the district of highest literacy percentage in india (if I R rao is to be believed, which I do) but over and above all, It is the city of the heavenly food.