"Half-tea"
"Give me a Egg puffs as well"
It was drizzling. The half-tea was warming me up. Two guys and a girl, all aged around 10 years came by, bought a few toffees and started sharing.
There is nothing that you don't get at Jyothi Bakery, I believed.
The kids left.
I almost finished by puffs.
A 7 year old looking kid with no hair on his head came.
I and the shopkeeper thought he was a customer too.
He wanted to buy something as well.
The malayali shopkeeper asked in Kannada
"What do you want ?"
"I want work, do you have any ?"
There is something that you dont get in Jyothi Bakery!
--------------------------------------------
Sometimes I feel Kerala is a heaven.
I have seen very few instances of child labor in Kerala (this includes Cochin, Thrissur, the Palakkad District). Either I was not observant enough or I am right. When I moved over to Surathkal I was introduced to a world where kids below age 14 are employed in the Messes and Guest Houses of a college which is run by the Ministry of Human Resource Department, Government Of India.
The other students took it for granted.
I was perturbed. How could they do it ? Don't the college authorities atleast have a list of people employed in the institution with a column for their age ?
In Bangalore they are everywhere, doing everything.
Hotels, workshops, Industries. . . . everywhere.
They come from everywhere.
Sometimes as far as Jarkhand.
So what do we do ?
You can't just ban it.
These guys are earning a living.
They are feeding themselves and sometimes other mouths too.
They are better than educated home-sitting jobless elite who don't contribute anything to the economy.
Aren't they ?
So what do we do ?
Legitimize their employment ?
These guys are future citizens too.
They should know what is wrong and what is right.
They should be given the opportunity to try their hand in skills other than washing utensils and wiping tables. They are our future citizens too.
Aren't They ?
Showing posts with label Bangalore. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Bangalore. Show all posts
The weekend that wasn’t
I had a great weekend.
The folks in my office had planned a cricket match to be held on Saturday morning. It was supposed to be Sales vs. R&D.
Right from childhood I have learnt that cricket is not my cup of tea (I don't drink coffee). Thus in Madras I used to play kings (and a king I was, many a times) and volleyball (not very good at that, but I was OK). At Cochin, we used to play football. I know I am not good at that as well. But the advantage with playing football is that you can hide your ignorance. But if you don’t know cricket, it shows out pretty well. Thus I made it pretty well known to the people here that if you would ask me to pose like a pig faced porcupine with a camera in your hand, I shall do it, but never ask me to play cricket. But my admin and Tech-lead wanted me to come to the ground for just the fun of it. I promised them I would, knowing pretty well that this promise is to broken.
Friday night I slept quite early, around 10. Thus Saturday 7 am I am awake in my bed. I lay lazily there for half an hour and feeling bored got up. I dint have anything to do. Well the cricket match was supposed to start at 7 am. So I thought why not go and check out how badly R&D is losing to Sales. So I plugged in my iPod and started walking to the NGV ground.
I reached in time to watch the last over of the sales innings. And to my surprise R&D won the match. The R&D guys spotted me watching the game. And as I have often feared, the manger asked me to join. I tried my level best to make it clear that I don't want to play. And they put me in the Sales team, telling that their team has only 10 players while R&D already has 11 players.
Thus I turned out to be the only R&D guy in the sales team. I made it clear to the sales guys that I am good for nothing. They understood what I meant. They are application engineers, they understand people.
Anyway cricket is a bland game. I remember giving an extempore speech while I was in school. The topic was “My favorite game”. It was a very easy topic. I have done better in political topics though I consider myself to be bad at that. I chose cricket for popularity sake. My speech was pathetically bad, as the words were not from my heart.
Let’s come back to the playground. My team (Sales) lost the first game. In the second game we were to bat first. I dint have to fight for the last batsman position, all the guys were very eager to bat. They managed to get a respectable score without bringing in the last batsman to field. Now it’s going to be difficult. I have to field!
I tried sitting back in the “Pavilion” but my captain told me to take the slip position. Then it was a series of catch drops. They tried posting me in each and every position in the field, but the ball obediently came in my direction, and when it is supposed to come to my hands, it would get deflected by the wind, by a small stone, or by the sheer will power of the batsman. I felt really bored. But somehow we won the match. I felt proud for my team. With my presence if they could win the match, they were really a damn good team.
They wanted to play one more match. I suggested football. But who is interested in football? We decided its going to be a cricket match to decide the winner of the series. Now that the score is 1-1, this match became indispensable for both the teams. Again I would like to say Cricket is a bland game. Half the time you sit in the pavilion (atleast I do so), the other half you just stand under the sun trying to concentrate where the ball will be the next moment. You don’t have to run much or do anything sportive (atleast I dint do anything).
I felt sad.
Another match?
I could have lied that I am busy and could have walked back home. But I wanted to show that I am no coward. I stayed.
Sales was to bat first. The sales captain (who is taking the role of the umpire now) asked me to keep track of the score. I nodded yes happily. I thought- OK , I should atleast show my talent in arithmetics here.
After a while someone asked me the score. I said 13. The batsman told its 17.
A few balls later another guy asked me for the score. I said 27. He asked if it isn’t 25. If he knows it is 25 why the hell is he asking me?
Then later the captain again asked. I said 45. Others corrected it to 47. I learnt that not only I am cricket ignorant. I am not even capable of keeping the score count!
Anyways cricket is a bland game. So I don’t mind not being good at that.
Then we were to bat. The captain asked me, if I would like to bowl. I said, “No, seriously no.” He understood.
We, I mean, the sales team won the second match also. Thus my team won all the matches that I “played”. R congratulated me on that.
We then went to Juice Junction. I had Orange Juice and Sapota Milk shake. I felt the juice and shake to be bland. Then we walked to the office. I watched Friends season one. I felt it to be bland.
Then R and I went to Desi Khana to have a good lunch. I asked for Non-Veg Thali. I got one. I felt the food to be bland.
Since the whole day was kinda bland I thought I will go and have a nice sleep. When I got out of my office I remembered that I forgot my keys in the playground. I came back to office asking people if they have seen any key chain in the playground while returning. They din’t. So I thought I should go to the playground and look for it.
But my colleagues said that somebody might make a duplicate of the key and keep the key back where it was found. And later when I come to take it, they will follow me and find out the lock that this key opens. Thereby this stranger can come and rob my home when I go out. I assured them that there is nothing precious at my home other than some old underwear. But they asked me to be cautious.
I was very lazy to walk. It was a hot afternoon. I hate hiring auto rickshaw. Hiring an auto never strikes my mind when I have to go somewhere. I think an auto rickshaw is a too much of a girl thing. I look down at people who take auto to travel a walk able distance. I have my own reasons for not having a vehicle (no no no, not having a two-wheeler license is not the only reason). Thus the BMTC has been a great friend of mine in Bangalore. I caught a 171 to get down at Koramangala Police Station, the stop near the ground.
The only nice thing that happened that day was the key being untouched at the place where I left it. I took it and came back to the bus stop. Nair called me to tell that they have bought a new TV. So how does it affect me ? I don’t give a damn. Bland and bald Nair. Not happy about, me not having a TV I took a 171 to Audugodi circle and took another bus to my office. Now, I did this to confuse the thief who might be following me to my home. I watched 3 more episodes of Friends season 1. Bored to my nerves, I walked back home. I left my iPod’s ear plug in the office intentionally. I felt I was getting too much addicted to my iPod. Eastern spiritual philosophy says that we should never have attachment with anything or anybody. Thus I promised myself that I won’t use my iPod for the next 1 week.
Being alone at home is really a bland situation. I took bath. The maid came and started doing her work. She started making bland conversations. I gave bland replies.
Once she left I left to the TIME coaching classes. There the teacher started discussing bland problems. These bland students with their bland doubts were stretching the class to 2 full hours. Nair and I then went to Kairali to have dinner. We ordered CB (Chicken Biriyani for the beginners). I felt the Biriyani to be bland even though Biriyani is supposed to be spicy. They also gave us a bland beetroot pickle! Nair had suggested me spending the night at his place. As both of us were alone and there was TV at his place. So went to Koramangala 1st block. I had left my iPod at home.
The TV was a 21 inch Philips. I like Philips stuff. I like Samsung more though (they are known to hire really bright guys). I tried surfing the channels. I din’t find anything interesting. I started watching Jurassic Park 3. It was a bland movie. After that I again started surfing.
I saw this Virgin Mobile ad in four languages (Malayalam, Hindi, Tamil and English). I like the ad. I like her emotion when her dad says she has to go for the trip. Her eyes are depicting anger and haste, while her lips are in the beginning of a smile. She has done her homework well.
It was 11 and I wanted to sleep as all the programmes in the TV seemed bland. That bland bald guy Nair was watching some football match between some infamous clubs. The next day he was happy that one particular club lost, he hates that club it seems. As if he had done his schooling with the scholarship which was the donation of the other club. What attachment do these guys have with Bhelsea, Marcelona, Banchester and Udrid Mutated?
Next day I got up at around 7 am. I felt bored as its going to be another bland day. I had to open bland bald Nair’s cupboard for using his paste. I saw he has bought quite a few books after I left them. I took up the thinnest book.
It was Identity by Milan Kundera. Well if you don’t know who he is, let me illuminate. He wrote some really bland books and was thrown out of Chezh republic for the same. But Milan was smart. He understood that the French are genetically bland. So he lived in exile in France. And wrote more bland books. The blandest of which was Identity.
I congratulated myself for taking up the blandest books from bland bald Nair’s collection later that day. We watched The week that wasn’t in CNN. Bland bald Nair was laughing. I felt it to be bland comedy. At 11 we have the TIME class on the bland topic – Indices and surds. Bland bald Nair offered me to take the book with myself to complete it. We had a bland masala dosa at some arbit bland hotel in 1st block. We entered that bland building where our classes are held. The beauties of the class dint turn up for the class. Thus the class was even more boring. I managed shouting out some wrong answers.
We planned having our lunch at Maharaja. I dint know, rather forgot, that it has an Andhra style cuisine. Andhra food is totally bland except for their pickles. We had meals and Lime Soda. Rs225 for that bland meals and Lime Soda? I felt cheated eventhough the ambiance was good.
I came back home. I was totally bored as I was not even using my iPod. My iPod has been my closest companion since the day I bought it. It’s plugged in when I walk, when I eat, when I try to sleep, when I work- for the last 3 months.
I slept. I read Identity. At 7:40 I felt hungry. The other day I had spotted an Andhra mess nearby. I thought I will try it tonight. So I went to that mess. There were chinki guys (either from the North-East part of India or from some South-east Asian country) seated there. The other day I strolled to Audugodi Circle by taking the Audugodi-Koramangala main road. And then from this road I explored a way to the Inner Ring road through the Shiva theatre road. During this exploration I found that there were a lot of poor chinki guys and gurls in this area. Thus I was not surprised. The mess was dirty. The food was bland and pathetic. The mess guy asked me to tell the chinki guys that the food will be little late as the autowalla who normally brings stuff for the mess has fallen ill. I helped him, totally disinterested. The food was usual Andhra stuff. The papu, which has everything in the world other than dal. The rice that was not cooked properly. The Telugu-Tamil speaking mess guy was disturbed as I ate very little. I had told him that this was my first time here. By now he was sure that this was my last time as well. I pressed Rs22 into his hands and smiled. While walking back home I lost my way. Then I had to walk back to the mess and take the road by which I had come there. I saw a bland drunkard relaxing on the road after gulping down some bland liquor.
I resumed reading the book. The bland book has just 2 characters. And these characters are dreaming throughout the book. The characters in the end wonder what part of the events that happened are real and what was part of the dream. The female character dreams of attending an orgy and sitting naked on a chair! I went nuts. Next morning when I got up, I realized, I had weird dreams. That bland book leaves a hangover too!
I know, I know, this post has become too much bland.
The folks in my office had planned a cricket match to be held on Saturday morning. It was supposed to be Sales vs. R&D.
Right from childhood I have learnt that cricket is not my cup of tea (I don't drink coffee). Thus in Madras I used to play kings (and a king I was, many a times) and volleyball (not very good at that, but I was OK). At Cochin, we used to play football. I know I am not good at that as well. But the advantage with playing football is that you can hide your ignorance. But if you don’t know cricket, it shows out pretty well. Thus I made it pretty well known to the people here that if you would ask me to pose like a pig faced porcupine with a camera in your hand, I shall do it, but never ask me to play cricket. But my admin and Tech-lead wanted me to come to the ground for just the fun of it. I promised them I would, knowing pretty well that this promise is to broken.
Friday night I slept quite early, around 10. Thus Saturday 7 am I am awake in my bed. I lay lazily there for half an hour and feeling bored got up. I dint have anything to do. Well the cricket match was supposed to start at 7 am. So I thought why not go and check out how badly R&D is losing to Sales. So I plugged in my iPod and started walking to the NGV ground.
I reached in time to watch the last over of the sales innings. And to my surprise R&D won the match. The R&D guys spotted me watching the game. And as I have often feared, the manger asked me to join. I tried my level best to make it clear that I don't want to play. And they put me in the Sales team, telling that their team has only 10 players while R&D already has 11 players.
Thus I turned out to be the only R&D guy in the sales team. I made it clear to the sales guys that I am good for nothing. They understood what I meant. They are application engineers, they understand people.
Anyway cricket is a bland game. I remember giving an extempore speech while I was in school. The topic was “My favorite game”. It was a very easy topic. I have done better in political topics though I consider myself to be bad at that. I chose cricket for popularity sake. My speech was pathetically bad, as the words were not from my heart.
Let’s come back to the playground. My team (Sales) lost the first game. In the second game we were to bat first. I dint have to fight for the last batsman position, all the guys were very eager to bat. They managed to get a respectable score without bringing in the last batsman to field. Now it’s going to be difficult. I have to field!
I tried sitting back in the “Pavilion” but my captain told me to take the slip position. Then it was a series of catch drops. They tried posting me in each and every position in the field, but the ball obediently came in my direction, and when it is supposed to come to my hands, it would get deflected by the wind, by a small stone, or by the sheer will power of the batsman. I felt really bored. But somehow we won the match. I felt proud for my team. With my presence if they could win the match, they were really a damn good team.
They wanted to play one more match. I suggested football. But who is interested in football? We decided its going to be a cricket match to decide the winner of the series. Now that the score is 1-1, this match became indispensable for both the teams. Again I would like to say Cricket is a bland game. Half the time you sit in the pavilion (atleast I do so), the other half you just stand under the sun trying to concentrate where the ball will be the next moment. You don’t have to run much or do anything sportive (atleast I dint do anything).
I felt sad.
Another match?
I could have lied that I am busy and could have walked back home. But I wanted to show that I am no coward. I stayed.
Sales was to bat first. The sales captain (who is taking the role of the umpire now) asked me to keep track of the score. I nodded yes happily. I thought- OK , I should atleast show my talent in arithmetics here.
After a while someone asked me the score. I said 13. The batsman told its 17.
A few balls later another guy asked me for the score. I said 27. He asked if it isn’t 25. If he knows it is 25 why the hell is he asking me?
Then later the captain again asked. I said 45. Others corrected it to 47. I learnt that not only I am cricket ignorant. I am not even capable of keeping the score count!
Anyways cricket is a bland game. So I don’t mind not being good at that.
Then we were to bat. The captain asked me, if I would like to bowl. I said, “No, seriously no.” He understood.
We, I mean, the sales team won the second match also. Thus my team won all the matches that I “played”. R congratulated me on that.
We then went to Juice Junction. I had Orange Juice and Sapota Milk shake. I felt the juice and shake to be bland. Then we walked to the office. I watched Friends season one. I felt it to be bland.
Then R and I went to Desi Khana to have a good lunch. I asked for Non-Veg Thali. I got one. I felt the food to be bland.
Since the whole day was kinda bland I thought I will go and have a nice sleep. When I got out of my office I remembered that I forgot my keys in the playground. I came back to office asking people if they have seen any key chain in the playground while returning. They din’t. So I thought I should go to the playground and look for it.
But my colleagues said that somebody might make a duplicate of the key and keep the key back where it was found. And later when I come to take it, they will follow me and find out the lock that this key opens. Thereby this stranger can come and rob my home when I go out. I assured them that there is nothing precious at my home other than some old underwear. But they asked me to be cautious.
I was very lazy to walk. It was a hot afternoon. I hate hiring auto rickshaw. Hiring an auto never strikes my mind when I have to go somewhere. I think an auto rickshaw is a too much of a girl thing. I look down at people who take auto to travel a walk able distance. I have my own reasons for not having a vehicle (no no no, not having a two-wheeler license is not the only reason). Thus the BMTC has been a great friend of mine in Bangalore. I caught a 171 to get down at Koramangala Police Station, the stop near the ground.
The only nice thing that happened that day was the key being untouched at the place where I left it. I took it and came back to the bus stop. Nair called me to tell that they have bought a new TV. So how does it affect me ? I don’t give a damn. Bland and bald Nair. Not happy about, me not having a TV I took a 171 to Audugodi circle and took another bus to my office. Now, I did this to confuse the thief who might be following me to my home. I watched 3 more episodes of Friends season 1. Bored to my nerves, I walked back home. I left my iPod’s ear plug in the office intentionally. I felt I was getting too much addicted to my iPod. Eastern spiritual philosophy says that we should never have attachment with anything or anybody. Thus I promised myself that I won’t use my iPod for the next 1 week.
Being alone at home is really a bland situation. I took bath. The maid came and started doing her work. She started making bland conversations. I gave bland replies.
Once she left I left to the TIME coaching classes. There the teacher started discussing bland problems. These bland students with their bland doubts were stretching the class to 2 full hours. Nair and I then went to Kairali to have dinner. We ordered CB (Chicken Biriyani for the beginners). I felt the Biriyani to be bland even though Biriyani is supposed to be spicy. They also gave us a bland beetroot pickle! Nair had suggested me spending the night at his place. As both of us were alone and there was TV at his place. So went to Koramangala 1st block. I had left my iPod at home.
The TV was a 21 inch Philips. I like Philips stuff. I like Samsung more though (they are known to hire really bright guys). I tried surfing the channels. I din’t find anything interesting. I started watching Jurassic Park 3. It was a bland movie. After that I again started surfing.
I saw this Virgin Mobile ad in four languages (Malayalam, Hindi, Tamil and English). I like the ad. I like her emotion when her dad says she has to go for the trip. Her eyes are depicting anger and haste, while her lips are in the beginning of a smile. She has done her homework well.It was 11 and I wanted to sleep as all the programmes in the TV seemed bland. That bland bald guy Nair was watching some football match between some infamous clubs. The next day he was happy that one particular club lost, he hates that club it seems. As if he had done his schooling with the scholarship which was the donation of the other club. What attachment do these guys have with Bhelsea, Marcelona, Banchester and Udrid Mutated?
Next day I got up at around 7 am. I felt bored as its going to be another bland day. I had to open bland bald Nair’s cupboard for using his paste. I saw he has bought quite a few books after I left them. I took up the thinnest book.
It was Identity by Milan Kundera. Well if you don’t know who he is, let me illuminate. He wrote some really bland books and was thrown out of Chezh republic for the same. But Milan was smart. He understood that the French are genetically bland. So he lived in exile in France. And wrote more bland books. The blandest of which was Identity.
I congratulated myself for taking up the blandest books from bland bald Nair’s collection later that day. We watched The week that wasn’t in CNN. Bland bald Nair was laughing. I felt it to be bland comedy. At 11 we have the TIME class on the bland topic – Indices and surds. Bland bald Nair offered me to take the book with myself to complete it. We had a bland masala dosa at some arbit bland hotel in 1st block. We entered that bland building where our classes are held. The beauties of the class dint turn up for the class. Thus the class was even more boring. I managed shouting out some wrong answers.
We planned having our lunch at Maharaja. I dint know, rather forgot, that it has an Andhra style cuisine. Andhra food is totally bland except for their pickles. We had meals and Lime Soda. Rs225 for that bland meals and Lime Soda? I felt cheated eventhough the ambiance was good.
I came back home. I was totally bored as I was not even using my iPod. My iPod has been my closest companion since the day I bought it. It’s plugged in when I walk, when I eat, when I try to sleep, when I work- for the last 3 months.
I slept. I read Identity. At 7:40 I felt hungry. The other day I had spotted an Andhra mess nearby. I thought I will try it tonight. So I went to that mess. There were chinki guys (either from the North-East part of India or from some South-east Asian country) seated there. The other day I strolled to Audugodi Circle by taking the Audugodi-Koramangala main road. And then from this road I explored a way to the Inner Ring road through the Shiva theatre road. During this exploration I found that there were a lot of poor chinki guys and gurls in this area. Thus I was not surprised. The mess was dirty. The food was bland and pathetic. The mess guy asked me to tell the chinki guys that the food will be little late as the autowalla who normally brings stuff for the mess has fallen ill. I helped him, totally disinterested. The food was usual Andhra stuff. The papu, which has everything in the world other than dal. The rice that was not cooked properly. The Telugu-Tamil speaking mess guy was disturbed as I ate very little. I had told him that this was my first time here. By now he was sure that this was my last time as well. I pressed Rs22 into his hands and smiled. While walking back home I lost my way. Then I had to walk back to the mess and take the road by which I had come there. I saw a bland drunkard relaxing on the road after gulping down some bland liquor.
I resumed reading the book. The bland book has just 2 characters. And these characters are dreaming throughout the book. The characters in the end wonder what part of the events that happened are real and what was part of the dream. The female character dreams of attending an orgy and sitting naked on a chair! I went nuts. Next morning when I got up, I realized, I had weird dreams. That bland book leaves a hangover too!
I know, I know, this post has become too much bland.
The Thursday
It was festive season in Bangalore. It was Vinayaka Chathurthi and something else. And it was raining lightly. As usual I carried my umbrella all the previous 4 days and it dint rain. That day as expected I dint have my umbrella and it started pouring as I got out of my office at 7:50 pm. Man I am Lucky.
Friday was a holiday for many, not for me though.
I got fully drenched as I got to Shri Krishna Sagar.
OK dude, its raining, let me eat something and then try to catch a bus. I ordered a Roti-Curry. It came, I gulped it down.
The rain dint stop. Somehow I managed to get into a bus. I was fully wet by then. I was wearing a shirt and another t-shirt inside. I removed my shirt and squeezed it which gave way to a tributary and a few stares.
The bus reached NIMHANS. I am supposed to get down here. But it was still raining. If I get down here I will have to walk a bit and cross the road to get to the next bus stop where I gotta catch the next bus. I don't want to drench.
So I had a master-plan, man that stupid decision that I took- I will stay in this bus till Shanthinagar. That is a kind of a Bus depot, which is fully covered and so I can catch my second bus from there without getting wet.
Don't you feel I am a smart ? eh ?
Indeed I am.
I went to the conductor and asked how much more should I give him so that I can get down at Shanthinagar. He was courteous and told me it is a pittance, its ok.
So I sat down and waited for my depot.
But it never came.
Man this is a Market Bus.
It doesn't go to the depot!!
It went to Minerva circle, J.C. Road and every other road in Bangalore, but not the Depot :(
And I don't want to go to K.R. Market at this time of the day!
Thats the only place I am scared of in Bangalore.
And taking a bus from K.R. Market to anywhere in Bangalore is a challenge for a newbie in Bangalore. There are no platforms and everything there is disorganized.
So I had another master-plan - 2.
I will get down at Town-hall and get a bus to Majestic.
Man I love Majestic!
Such an organized place it is.
So at the town-hall stop I got a bus to majestic. It was jam packed. I squeezed in. In my Bangalore maps back home I have seen that K.R. Market is "very" close to Majestic. So I thought ok man will be in Majestic in 5 minutes.
The conductor, a very friendly fellow came-by and I asked for a ticket to Majestic. It was Rs6. I was surprised. Is it that far ?
Anyways got the ticket and waited, hanging from the bars, squeezing and pushing. We reached K.G Road, I was very happy to see all those Bank building, ok we are going to make it to majestic, I thought.
But wait.
The traffic came to a halt.
Why, what was the reason ? I asked a couple of people. Nobody knew.
The bus was inching little by little then the frustrated driver switched off the engine.
Some people started getting down from the bus and heading towards the BMTC bus depot.
I was lazy to do that. SO I waited in the bus, hanging.
My mother's call came, I attended and told her I am in the second bus, there is a terrible traffic jam etc.
By the by the rain had stopped. So I master planned to walk the rest of it till BMTC depot.
Man! There are lot of people walking. Moreover there were lot of people carrying a lot of luggage.
Only now did it strike. Man if tomorrow is a Friday and its a holiday for many and its festive season- we will have loads of people heading to their hometowns. I could see men and women carrying luggage and babies literally running towards majestic. They are on their way to catch their buses. I could hear a guy telling his wife
"Come quickly, the bus will leave in 10 minutes." And she was dragging herself to keep in pace with him.
I walked and reached a circle, I think this was the KG circle. This is the circle where you will see a traffic police standing in the middle and shouting into a microphone. From here I could see that all the four roads leading to this place was jam-packed. The vehicle owners were so greedy that they wouldn't even give you a inch of place for you to cross the road. The vehicles are placed one behind the other in such a manner that I had to jump over the front wheels of a few two-wheelers to get across the circle.
Then I walked and walked and walked.
I reached the depot.
Man I did it.
When I entered the Majestic depot I saw a scene which was hitherto never seen and I hope will never have to see again.
The bus-stop where I have always seen a lot of buses, whether it be 5:00 am or 11:00 pm had not even a single bus inside it. And there were 10 times the Persian army strength in "300" as passengers here. Once in 5 minutes one bus would manage to enter the depot and people would attack the bus, the mob would swallow the bus. It would get packed in fractions of seconds and is ready to leave.
I went and stood near platform No.14. By now my thoughts had already charted as what I would do if I had to spend this night in Majestic ?
After waiting for about 12-15 minutes a bus came - the coveted 171, yes I can get till NIMHANS in this one. Now starts the drama.
I was petty sure that there will be a fight between the people who are getting down and the people who are boarding the bus. And it did happen.
8 times the capacity of the bus wanted to board the bus. Boarding a bus or train and getting a seat for myself in such a highly competitive situation is like a challenge for me. I was trained in this skill at my school days whilst I used to travel to Thrissur on Sundays in a train ironically named "Push-Pull"!.
So thus I got in and made myself comfortable in a side seat, which turned to be a bad decision. The bus was leaking and my right hand was completely wet.
Through my window I could see people hanging from the footpath risking their life. The bus was densely packed.
People standing were having a tough time. I thanked P. C. Thomas for not opening a franchise office in Ernakulam, I used to curse him for not doing so during my school days. The bus moved very slowly eventhough there was no big traffic. So at last we reached NIMHANS. I managed to get out. I should have been here about 2 hours ago if not for my master plan-1!
A few buses came by, but none in my route. I was getting tensed as the time was 11 p.m. So I decided to do something, that I always detested. Catching a Auto-rickshaw.
Somehow I have a feeling that only weak people catch an Auto-rickshaw. So I went ahead and waved my hand.
And Surprise! Surprise! He accepted the offer of going to BTM 2nd Stage at 1.5 times the meter charge!
Wah, how lucky I am. I thought "yes, this is the end of today's great Bangalore experience", relaxed and happy. :)
Dude, wait, not yet.
We just went half a kilometer and stopped. Why ? I turned back and saw that another Auto-rickshaw was damaged. The front tyre part had completely collapsed. And this vehicle was right in the middle of the road. The poor machine must have toiled a lot as roads were in pathetic condition as it had rained.
So the humble and highly "friendly" auto-driver whom I hired or rather I got hired, had to stop his vehicle right in the middle of the road and go and help his friend in distress. So 10- 15 minutes there in getting that broken machine to the roadside. I could see a Muslim woman in all black inside that patient machine. Poor female, hope she reached her destination. Then we went ahead and started having a smooth ride. The meter was rising smoothly to Rs30-Rs40 etc.
And then Boom, Traffic Jam at 11 pm at Jayadeva near Bannerghatta circle.
What more can I ask for ?
My auto Manipulator waited for quite some time in the traffic and allowed the meter to gain some Rs for waiting charges. Then he broke the traffic rules and took a U-Turn and drove through the ring road and thus I was at home after that great mission.
I gave the auto-driver a brand new 100 rupee note.
I pressed the door bell. Nair opened.
"Why so late?"
"Lot of work at office, da"
Friday was a holiday for many, not for me though.
I got fully drenched as I got to Shri Krishna Sagar.
OK dude, its raining, let me eat something and then try to catch a bus. I ordered a Roti-Curry. It came, I gulped it down.
The rain dint stop. Somehow I managed to get into a bus. I was fully wet by then. I was wearing a shirt and another t-shirt inside. I removed my shirt and squeezed it which gave way to a tributary and a few stares.
The bus reached NIMHANS. I am supposed to get down here. But it was still raining. If I get down here I will have to walk a bit and cross the road to get to the next bus stop where I gotta catch the next bus. I don't want to drench.
So I had a master-plan, man that stupid decision that I took- I will stay in this bus till Shanthinagar. That is a kind of a Bus depot, which is fully covered and so I can catch my second bus from there without getting wet.
Don't you feel I am a smart ? eh ?
Indeed I am.
I went to the conductor and asked how much more should I give him so that I can get down at Shanthinagar. He was courteous and told me it is a pittance, its ok.
So I sat down and waited for my depot.
But it never came.
Man this is a Market Bus.
It doesn't go to the depot!!
It went to Minerva circle, J.C. Road and every other road in Bangalore, but not the Depot :(
And I don't want to go to K.R. Market at this time of the day!
Thats the only place I am scared of in Bangalore.
And taking a bus from K.R. Market to anywhere in Bangalore is a challenge for a newbie in Bangalore. There are no platforms and everything there is disorganized.
So I had another master-plan - 2.
I will get down at Town-hall and get a bus to Majestic.
Man I love Majestic!
Such an organized place it is.
So at the town-hall stop I got a bus to majestic. It was jam packed. I squeezed in. In my Bangalore maps back home I have seen that K.R. Market is "very" close to Majestic. So I thought ok man will be in Majestic in 5 minutes.
The conductor, a very friendly fellow came-by and I asked for a ticket to Majestic. It was Rs6. I was surprised. Is it that far ?
Anyways got the ticket and waited, hanging from the bars, squeezing and pushing. We reached K.G Road, I was very happy to see all those Bank building, ok we are going to make it to majestic, I thought.
But wait.
The traffic came to a halt.
Why, what was the reason ? I asked a couple of people. Nobody knew.
The bus was inching little by little then the frustrated driver switched off the engine.
Some people started getting down from the bus and heading towards the BMTC bus depot.
I was lazy to do that. SO I waited in the bus, hanging.
My mother's call came, I attended and told her I am in the second bus, there is a terrible traffic jam etc.
By the by the rain had stopped. So I master planned to walk the rest of it till BMTC depot.
Man! There are lot of people walking. Moreover there were lot of people carrying a lot of luggage.
Only now did it strike. Man if tomorrow is a Friday and its a holiday for many and its festive season- we will have loads of people heading to their hometowns. I could see men and women carrying luggage and babies literally running towards majestic. They are on their way to catch their buses. I could hear a guy telling his wife
"Come quickly, the bus will leave in 10 minutes." And she was dragging herself to keep in pace with him.
I walked and reached a circle, I think this was the KG circle. This is the circle where you will see a traffic police standing in the middle and shouting into a microphone. From here I could see that all the four roads leading to this place was jam-packed. The vehicle owners were so greedy that they wouldn't even give you a inch of place for you to cross the road. The vehicles are placed one behind the other in such a manner that I had to jump over the front wheels of a few two-wheelers to get across the circle.
Then I walked and walked and walked.
I reached the depot.
Man I did it.
When I entered the Majestic depot I saw a scene which was hitherto never seen and I hope will never have to see again.
The bus-stop where I have always seen a lot of buses, whether it be 5:00 am or 11:00 pm had not even a single bus inside it. And there were 10 times the Persian army strength in "300" as passengers here. Once in 5 minutes one bus would manage to enter the depot and people would attack the bus, the mob would swallow the bus. It would get packed in fractions of seconds and is ready to leave.
I went and stood near platform No.14. By now my thoughts had already charted as what I would do if I had to spend this night in Majestic ?
After waiting for about 12-15 minutes a bus came - the coveted 171, yes I can get till NIMHANS in this one. Now starts the drama.
I was petty sure that there will be a fight between the people who are getting down and the people who are boarding the bus. And it did happen.
8 times the capacity of the bus wanted to board the bus. Boarding a bus or train and getting a seat for myself in such a highly competitive situation is like a challenge for me. I was trained in this skill at my school days whilst I used to travel to Thrissur on Sundays in a train ironically named "Push-Pull"!.
So thus I got in and made myself comfortable in a side seat, which turned to be a bad decision. The bus was leaking and my right hand was completely wet.
Through my window I could see people hanging from the footpath risking their life. The bus was densely packed.
People standing were having a tough time. I thanked P. C. Thomas for not opening a franchise office in Ernakulam, I used to curse him for not doing so during my school days. The bus moved very slowly eventhough there was no big traffic. So at last we reached NIMHANS. I managed to get out. I should have been here about 2 hours ago if not for my master plan-1!
A few buses came by, but none in my route. I was getting tensed as the time was 11 p.m. So I decided to do something, that I always detested. Catching a Auto-rickshaw.
Somehow I have a feeling that only weak people catch an Auto-rickshaw. So I went ahead and waved my hand.
And Surprise! Surprise! He accepted the offer of going to BTM 2nd Stage at 1.5 times the meter charge!
Wah, how lucky I am. I thought "yes, this is the end of today's great Bangalore experience", relaxed and happy. :)
Dude, wait, not yet.
We just went half a kilometer and stopped. Why ? I turned back and saw that another Auto-rickshaw was damaged. The front tyre part had completely collapsed. And this vehicle was right in the middle of the road. The poor machine must have toiled a lot as roads were in pathetic condition as it had rained.
So the humble and highly "friendly" auto-driver whom I hired or rather I got hired, had to stop his vehicle right in the middle of the road and go and help his friend in distress. So 10- 15 minutes there in getting that broken machine to the roadside. I could see a Muslim woman in all black inside that patient machine. Poor female, hope she reached her destination. Then we went ahead and started having a smooth ride. The meter was rising smoothly to Rs30-Rs40 etc.
And then Boom, Traffic Jam at 11 pm at Jayadeva near Bannerghatta circle.
What more can I ask for ?
My auto Manipulator waited for quite some time in the traffic and allowed the meter to gain some Rs for waiting charges. Then he broke the traffic rules and took a U-Turn and drove through the ring road and thus I was at home after that great mission.
I gave the auto-driver a brand new 100 rupee note.
I pressed the door bell. Nair opened.
"Why so late?"
"Lot of work at office, da"
Seasons
All my life I have stayed in South India. And always near the coasts. I haven't experienced extreme weather conditions. And in the coastal areas we sweat a lot. No wonder I had a abode of lice on my head when I was in school and college.
When I moved over to Bangalore, I seldom sweat. And no more lice now.
Day before yesterday one of my north Indian colleagues was complaining that the weather in Bangalore is monotonous. And also I came across this blog of small squirrel.
Ya I do understand. Change is necessary.
But isn't this the viewpoint of the elite rich who can afford to buy clothes for different seasons and who can huddle up in their cozy bedrooms in winter and who can switch on their ACs in the melting summer?
What about the not so well off ?
When I moved over to Bangalore, I seldom sweat. And no more lice now.
Day before yesterday one of my north Indian colleagues was complaining that the weather in Bangalore is monotonous. And also I came across this blog of small squirrel.
Ya I do understand. Change is necessary.
But isn't this the viewpoint of the elite rich who can afford to buy clothes for different seasons and who can huddle up in their cozy bedrooms in winter and who can switch on their ACs in the melting summer?
What about the not so well off ?
Bangalore
Have been there a couple of times.
The first time when I was in the second grade. I was seven then. It was as part of a south India tour. I was with achchan, amma, ammamma, muthachan, mema, cheriachchan, Manikutty and probably others like Vimal mama. We do have a few photographs in our album at home. We had been to Ooty, Mysore, Bangalore and I don't remember where else. Don't remember anything regarding this trip due to 2 reasons, firstly, I was a kid then, secondly, my memory power is damn good. :)
Then after a long time, when I was in eleventh grade, the school trip was to Bangalore, Mysore, Brindavan, Black Thunder. Then I remember visiting the Science Museum and then the glass house in Lal Bagh, the rocky part behind it. I remember our accompanying teacher helping us in mouth looking! Then we went shopping in MG road and Brigade road. I got a Barbie for my sister and a chapel for myself! We had a nice time in Bangalore then. I was quite impressed by the city.
In the second semester of my undergrad I had to do my NCC camp at Bangalore. It was arranged at MEG- Madras Engineers Group, Ulsoor, Bangalore. We had to be there for 15 days. It was named as "Army Attachment Camp".
We boarded the Durgamba travels from our college campus one fine night and the next day morning we were in Bangalore, alighted in front of one of the MEG gates. Then our Army senior (one Hawaldar Major) did all the formalities of getting us guys inside the high security premises. We din't get any accommodation as nothing was arranged as such and anyways there was no facilities to arrange for. We had the shock of our life when we were asked to brush and get "fresh" in a bathroom. I felt the bathrooms portrayed (in the jails) in movies like Mahanadi were far better. I was just wondering how we will live here for 15 days. Then I made a phone call home telling that all is "well" here with me and answering all my mothers curiosity with nice nice words.
An army attachment camp meant that we have to live for a few days with the Indian Army Jawans, eating the kind of food that they eat, staying in the barracks they stay and undergoing the training that they do. These 15 days really thought me a lot about life. I really changed my outlook about life. I understood how ignorant I was about life. The other things that I learnt were
During this 2 .5 years of training they get a monthly pay of Rs7500. After this training they are taken into the भार्तीय सेना as जवान.
I always hated the Parle G biscuits. I used to consider them to be of low quality. they never tasted good, even now they don't. But once in my life they did!
Out of our 15 days there, 3 were holidays। So you can actually stay back in your barrack and sleep or go to a movie (They do have a theatre inside MEG) or play cricket with the JCOs (Joint Commissioned Officers) there। I saw two bad movies in that egg shaped theatre, one Malayalam and another Tamil. What more can you ask for, they just cost you Rs 8 ( front rows ) or Rs 10 ( balcony ).
But I was not content with that. I wanted to see Bangalore that's one reason I was there. And getting a permission is like a crow flying upside down.
But then I got it.
How ?
Tamil!
Thats one lesson that I had learn t right from my days at Madras.
You want to get something done from a Tamil, talk to him in Tamil.
And the Hawaldar Major was a Tamil.
Thus I was illegally out of MEG.
There was this senior of mine with me and he knew the city pretty well. He took me to many arbit places in the city. This was enough enjoyment for me when compared to the closed confines of MEG.
While I was loitering around my friend Sandeep stayed in MEG and went to play cricket. He played with a group of Malayali JCOs. Ultimately he learn t a lot of new bad words in Malayalam. The army officers are really bad-mouthed.
The last of the holidays I went out with Sandeep not even asking our Hawaldar Major. We went sight-seeing to Lal Bagh etc.
Training there was quite torturous for us sophisticated engineering students. We were made to run around 10 kms everyday. But a minutes thought about those guys who stay here for 2.5 years used to give us that push to run that extra mile.
I talked with a few Jawan trainees there
"Isn't it torturous ?"
"Yes it is"
"Are you educated ?"
"Yes, B.Sc."
"Then why are you here? Cant you do something else ?"
"There is nothing that I can do at homeland, my family is very poor and I am not able to find any job with my qualification"
The jawans have a recreation room with TV, Internet, magazines, Chess and Carroms. And I could see that the jawans are making good use of it as well.
The last day at the camp we got the Army Attachment Camp certificate.
Till date I don't have a more hard earned certificate than that.
Then it was in the final semester of my undergrad. I had got placed in National Instruments. The company's International Relationship Managers were coming down to Bangalore, so they had invited us for a lunch with those guys. They had booked us on Jet Airways.
I was at the Mangalore airport. This was the first time I was at a airport. It was a small airport. Got the luggage checked and boarded. Amma called after I boarded.
It was the first time that I was flying. It indeed was a good experience. The flight accelerating, the polite air-hostess, the food, the roads which seemed like thin lines on a map, the vegetation below like a cauliflower.
I was lucky to get of window seats to and fro.
The guys with me were very particular in taking a cab to our future office building. So we got a prepaid cab to Koramangala. I was curiously looking out the widow pane to catch glimpses of my future home city.
I felt it be bland.
I saw a few corporate buildings - Yahoo, IBM, Microsoft etc etc..
On the cab we changed our plans to go to the MG Road instead as we were getting late for lunch and we asked the guys in office to go ahead and that we will meet at the hotel instead.
So we were at Barton's Center. The buffet was on the 13th floor. It was fun. It was on a terrace and you can have a good view of the city from here.
After the lunch we went back to the office and met our future colleagues. We were given T- shirts and LabVIEW DVDs ( Its still hiding somewhere in my Suitcase, never touched it ).
Then my uncle came to pick me up. I planned to stay with him tonight. We went to CV Raman Nagar.
I learnt that his is a completely satisfied and settled life, unlike my other uncles. My aunty is the reason behind the same.
Two cute children - Krithiga and Mridul, both are obedient and smart. I love this family a lot.
I caught the flight back to Mangalore the next morning.
I felt Bangalore to be bland!
And now comes the final time to Bangalore. This time it is not a visit. I am here in Bangalore to live and work.
I have seen that many of uncles and elder cousins are not as lucky as I. I mean, landing in a good job when you are 21. Many of them had to do a lot of unsatisfying jobs, were jobless for long durations etc. I mean many around me were not settled. Some of them dint know what to do. Some of them went into business which tumbled down into losses.
And off late I started reading "Atlas Shrugged". There is this very nice explanation of what money is by Francisco d'Anconia. I was totally impressed. I have started spending one-fourth of my salary. My only expenditures are good food and bad movies. I saw about 2 dozen movies after coming to Bangalore. None of them impressed me, except for one Aamir Khan flick. And of course Bangalore has been a great place for my tongue. Food, of all major Cuisines, yes I have tried most of them. Sometimes I feel I have lived my life. Lets see whats in store.
The first time when I was in the second grade. I was seven then. It was as part of a south India tour. I was with achchan, amma, ammamma, muthachan, mema, cheriachchan, Manikutty and probably others like Vimal mama. We do have a few photographs in our album at home. We had been to Ooty, Mysore, Bangalore and I don't remember where else. Don't remember anything regarding this trip due to 2 reasons, firstly, I was a kid then, secondly, my memory power is damn good. :)
Then after a long time, when I was in eleventh grade, the school trip was to Bangalore, Mysore, Brindavan, Black Thunder. Then I remember visiting the Science Museum and then the glass house in Lal Bagh, the rocky part behind it. I remember our accompanying teacher helping us in mouth looking! Then we went shopping in MG road and Brigade road. I got a Barbie for my sister and a chapel for myself! We had a nice time in Bangalore then. I was quite impressed by the city.
In the second semester of my undergrad I had to do my NCC camp at Bangalore. It was arranged at MEG- Madras Engineers Group, Ulsoor, Bangalore. We had to be there for 15 days. It was named as "Army Attachment Camp".
We boarded the Durgamba travels from our college campus one fine night and the next day morning we were in Bangalore, alighted in front of one of the MEG gates. Then our Army senior (one Hawaldar Major) did all the formalities of getting us guys inside the high security premises. We din't get any accommodation as nothing was arranged as such and anyways there was no facilities to arrange for. We had the shock of our life when we were asked to brush and get "fresh" in a bathroom. I felt the bathrooms portrayed (in the jails) in movies like Mahanadi were far better. I was just wondering how we will live here for 15 days. Then I made a phone call home telling that all is "well" here with me and answering all my mothers curiosity with nice nice words.
An army attachment camp meant that we have to live for a few days with the Indian Army Jawans, eating the kind of food that they eat, staying in the barracks they stay and undergoing the training that they do. These 15 days really thought me a lot about life. I really changed my outlook about life. I understood how ignorant I was about life. The other things that I learnt were
- If you are in the defense services your life has no value.
- You are a slave of your senior. You have to clean their toilets, polish their shoes, and do whatever they ask you to.
- Appearance is very important, even if you don't take bath never go without shaving. If a Jawan reports to his senior without shaving, the punishment is that, a stone is rubbed on his cheek till it bleeds.
- By undergoing an army training a person will develop a great concentration power. This is because if a Jawan makes a small mistake he might have to suffer a lot of pain and torture. So he would' t make mistakes.
During this 2 .5 years of training they get a monthly pay of Rs7500. After this training they are taken into the भार्तीय सेना as जवान.
I always hated the Parle G biscuits. I used to consider them to be of low quality. they never tasted good, even now they don't. But once in my life they did!
Out of our 15 days there, 3 were holidays। So you can actually stay back in your barrack and sleep or go to a movie (They do have a theatre inside MEG) or play cricket with the JCOs (Joint Commissioned Officers) there। I saw two bad movies in that egg shaped theatre, one Malayalam and another Tamil. What more can you ask for, they just cost you Rs 8 ( front rows ) or Rs 10 ( balcony ).
But I was not content with that. I wanted to see Bangalore that's one reason I was there. And getting a permission is like a crow flying upside down.
But then I got it.
How ?
Tamil!
Thats one lesson that I had learn t right from my days at Madras.
You want to get something done from a Tamil, talk to him in Tamil.
And the Hawaldar Major was a Tamil.
Thus I was illegally out of MEG.
There was this senior of mine with me and he knew the city pretty well. He took me to many arbit places in the city. This was enough enjoyment for me when compared to the closed confines of MEG.
While I was loitering around my friend Sandeep stayed in MEG and went to play cricket. He played with a group of Malayali JCOs. Ultimately he learn t a lot of new bad words in Malayalam. The army officers are really bad-mouthed.
The last of the holidays I went out with Sandeep not even asking our Hawaldar Major. We went sight-seeing to Lal Bagh etc.
Training there was quite torturous for us sophisticated engineering students. We were made to run around 10 kms everyday. But a minutes thought about those guys who stay here for 2.5 years used to give us that push to run that extra mile.
I talked with a few Jawan trainees there
"Isn't it torturous ?"
"Yes it is"
"Are you educated ?"
"Yes, B.Sc."
"Then why are you here? Cant you do something else ?"
"There is nothing that I can do at homeland, my family is very poor and I am not able to find any job with my qualification"
The jawans have a recreation room with TV, Internet, magazines, Chess and Carroms. And I could see that the jawans are making good use of it as well.
The last day at the camp we got the Army Attachment Camp certificate.
Till date I don't have a more hard earned certificate than that.
Then it was in the final semester of my undergrad. I had got placed in National Instruments. The company's International Relationship Managers were coming down to Bangalore, so they had invited us for a lunch with those guys. They had booked us on Jet Airways.
I was at the Mangalore airport. This was the first time I was at a airport. It was a small airport. Got the luggage checked and boarded. Amma called after I boarded.
It was the first time that I was flying. It indeed was a good experience. The flight accelerating, the polite air-hostess, the food, the roads which seemed like thin lines on a map, the vegetation below like a cauliflower.
I was lucky to get of window seats to and fro.
The guys with me were very particular in taking a cab to our future office building. So we got a prepaid cab to Koramangala. I was curiously looking out the widow pane to catch glimpses of my future home city.
I felt it be bland.
I saw a few corporate buildings - Yahoo, IBM, Microsoft etc etc..
On the cab we changed our plans to go to the MG Road instead as we were getting late for lunch and we asked the guys in office to go ahead and that we will meet at the hotel instead.
So we were at Barton's Center. The buffet was on the 13th floor. It was fun. It was on a terrace and you can have a good view of the city from here.
After the lunch we went back to the office and met our future colleagues. We were given T- shirts and LabVIEW DVDs ( Its still hiding somewhere in my Suitcase, never touched it ).
Then my uncle came to pick me up. I planned to stay with him tonight. We went to CV Raman Nagar.
I learnt that his is a completely satisfied and settled life, unlike my other uncles. My aunty is the reason behind the same.
Two cute children - Krithiga and Mridul, both are obedient and smart. I love this family a lot.
I caught the flight back to Mangalore the next morning.
I felt Bangalore to be bland!
And now comes the final time to Bangalore. This time it is not a visit. I am here in Bangalore to live and work.
I have seen that many of uncles and elder cousins are not as lucky as I. I mean, landing in a good job when you are 21. Many of them had to do a lot of unsatisfying jobs, were jobless for long durations etc. I mean many around me were not settled. Some of them dint know what to do. Some of them went into business which tumbled down into losses.
And off late I started reading "Atlas Shrugged". There is this very nice explanation of what money is by Francisco d'Anconia. I was totally impressed. I have started spending one-fourth of my salary. My only expenditures are good food and bad movies. I saw about 2 dozen movies after coming to Bangalore. None of them impressed me, except for one Aamir Khan flick. And of course Bangalore has been a great place for my tongue. Food, of all major Cuisines, yes I have tried most of them. Sometimes I feel I have lived my life. Lets see whats in store.
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