Angkor wat
Friday, October 2, 2015
Umran lagiya
As a child I used to love asking people slightly offbeat 'favourite' questions; for example 'What is your favourite age'? or 'When would you have liked to lived the most, a million years ago or now or a hundred years later?' My own stock favourite 'ages' were 9, 21 and 36. 9 because I had a great time at my birthday party that year and discovered a much bigger wonderful new world of books than I had known till then, 21 because it seemed very grown up (and the Ponds soap lady was always advertised as '21' in a whooshy voice on DD), and 36 because that is as far as my imagination went towards representing 'old'! :) In the way that random stimuli have of invoking memories, the recent and beautiful Coke studio song 'Umran lagiya' struck an instant chord of nostalgia in me, and with it the realisation that 36 is now a lot closer than 21 or 9 :)
A random google search indicates that turning 30 and beyond is pretty much the end..which means we can be as liberated as Nearly Headless Nick (though less gloomy) because who cares what ghosts do anyway. Why is 30 so shunned though? 40, 50 or even 60 seem to get off relatively lightly. Even on the purely cosmetic level advertised through countless movies and movie stars, the impression seems to be one day young slim lovely enthusiastic 29 and next day old bent slouching bleary eyed 30 :P No wonder so much advertising urges people to 'regain your twenties', nobody wants to be a sort of Ms Trunchbull meets Meena Kumari late period.
From the old school point of view, most people have their versions of 'kapda gaadi makaan' or at least live under the roof of a house rather than a hostel by the time they re 30..which seems to chalk up a point for the thirties. Whatever tensions were associated with the peak of studying, finding jobs, sorting people you liked and those you thought you did but didn't actually and all other complicated factors seem to be largely associated with the twenties, again a plus for the thirties! One poor downer for the thirties is the apparent realisation that your 'biological clock' (one of the most abused terms in biology as well as the english language) is 'ticking'. This generally means that in the next few years your skin will turn to leather (not if you use various lotions), hair fall off (not if you go to Dr Batra's clinic), all chances of your DNA being represented in future generations is out (lots of not ifs) plus you better get used to being called 'aunty or 'uncle'..no options here. Hmm.
These not so scary scenarios apart, I feel like going back to the old calculation for favourite ages..I think its going to be 9, 33 and 42, that way I have two to sample still and I act contrary to current paranoia, always a temptation :P
And so to all, while 'Umran lagiya pabban pa' (Ages have passed while I stand on tiptoe), enjoy your forties! :)
Wednesday, May 6, 2015
Live in the present..or should you?
'Live in the present'! screamed the header. I scanned the article quickly: it was familiar sunday supplement content,urging people to 'savour today' and live in the moment and so on, and shun the past and future like they had yeast contamination. A healthy enough sentiment, most of us would feel.
But a moment's reflection of how often I was in these to-be-avoided areas outside of actual work time told me that the answer was an easy 70% of the time. Ranging from looking ahead to daily chores (In an hour I'll cut the cauliflower while the phone charges and then finish reading a paper while that happens) to looking back to re-live something or think how it could have been done differently (a hangover from the latest McCall Smith or Foyle's war episode to the unresponsiveness of a newly thought out experiment and possible variations), I seem to spend most of my time 'cheating' the present as the article called it.
On thinking a bit there seem to be three specific tasks during which I am 100% present: in conversation with people one to one(here I am usually fully attentive),when actually setting up or carrying out some experiment, and when studying something and concentrating on understanding or working it out. But that's about it for the present really..a pretty shabby show. Walking, brushing teeth, cooking, folding clothes, day dreaming, tuning out when other people are talking in groups or watching endless documentaries (:P), making up stories for things that may happen tomorrow..what happens to all of these then?? Not to mention imaginary conversations and possible future discoveries (And now we present the Leakey award 2052- for the leader of this most daring expedition that uncovered the last of the dragons..). I am all in favour of savouring today. But if it takes up all your time, when do you savour tomorrow and rewrite yesterday? They better make some new rules.
But a moment's reflection of how often I was in these to-be-avoided areas outside of actual work time told me that the answer was an easy 70% of the time. Ranging from looking ahead to daily chores (In an hour I'll cut the cauliflower while the phone charges and then finish reading a paper while that happens) to looking back to re-live something or think how it could have been done differently (a hangover from the latest McCall Smith or Foyle's war episode to the unresponsiveness of a newly thought out experiment and possible variations), I seem to spend most of my time 'cheating' the present as the article called it.
On thinking a bit there seem to be three specific tasks during which I am 100% present: in conversation with people one to one(here I am usually fully attentive),when actually setting up or carrying out some experiment, and when studying something and concentrating on understanding or working it out. But that's about it for the present really..a pretty shabby show. Walking, brushing teeth, cooking, folding clothes, day dreaming, tuning out when other people are talking in groups or watching endless documentaries (:P), making up stories for things that may happen tomorrow..what happens to all of these then?? Not to mention imaginary conversations and possible future discoveries (And now we present the Leakey award 2052- for the leader of this most daring expedition that uncovered the last of the dragons..). I am all in favour of savouring today. But if it takes up all your time, when do you savour tomorrow and rewrite yesterday? They better make some new rules.
Four too many! A ramble for old times..
While talking to a girl interested in taking up science journalism, I found myself mouthing that sage piece of advice in the field - "And don't forget to start a blog, its the simplest way to get a feel for your own writing and let would-be editors see a sample too". I was talking about a science writing blog, but it reminded me of my own long abandoned Incharaa..and I am staggered to find that it's been four years since I wrote anything here! Four years too many :(
So what has happened in these four years, and how if at all does it affect my writing? Well, four main things have happened I think..I got my PhD, got married, did a year's worth of freelance science writing~journalism and finally: I made up for a seven year glut of once- a-year travel (that too with constant background worry about this or that experiment not working), by wallowing in travel these last two years :) The most wonderful and satisfying for me were Cambodia, the forests of Bandipur and Mudhumalai(a long neglected old favourite)and of course the higher Himalayas following the Gangetic gorge. I feel enriched of course..like with most travel..but also genuinely more at peace for having seen these places and spent time with them. They deserve separate write ups.
Finishing my PhD was of course a big deal..although anti climactic at the time after all the build up :P I feel like I grew up over the course of doing the Masters/PhD (most of my twenties were spent in the process so even factually that's true :)So every strong influence in that period whether from new people, learning things or even dealing with disappointments is in a sense also a 'PhD influence'. I am sure it has moulded how I write and what about, as well. As to being married, I can't offhand see how it might have affected my writing style or topics..except that I am better qualified to write about food now, given I have been cooking every day for two years :P And I suppose constantly hearing about all sorts of trains at home must have an impact somewhere..where, I can't say yet!
Science writing took up a great deal of my time for about a year..it was both hard work and a lot of fun, and for anyone who is interested, here are most of the pieces: https://laasyasamhita.contently.com/
However, I also realised that I couldn't do it for more than about a year and am now back in a lab as a happy post doc :) I guess I was spoilt with the independence that hands on research gives, as also the scope for creativity. I realized that journals, even science journals, are ultimately commercial entities and constrained by a particular style and layout that they want to stick to. This meant that my pieces got varying levels of editing; from a minimal amount to practically rewriting the whole piece. The massively edited ones were a huge disappointment to me, it felt like the final pieces shouldn't even have my name on them. The other problem was that in many big journals, you can't look up past literature yourself and give an opinion, even with a citation (as one would do in a typical scientific publication). It has to come from a scientist in a faculty position, either the author or someone else in the same field. And given most stories have deadlines of a couple of days from start to finish, this meant a lot of frantic calling up of numbers all over the world at all times with requests for comments on paper x..while also feeling awfully guilty that we aren't giving them anything like enough time!! In fact it amazed me how often people in fact read the paper in question (I hope!) and gave comments in time, I always felt I was calling in a favour that wasn't due. These two not withstanding, it was still a great experience.
So to rescue this piece from being a purely nostalgic memory indulgence, I'll bring in a movie that I watched recently and strongly recommend to anyone who hasn't yet seen it. Its called 'The First Grader'. The story is a true one, about an 84 year old man with a passion for learning, who insists on being enrolled in the first grade to learn to read and write when Kenya announces its 'education for all' policy post independence from the British. It is moving, realistic and really just wonderfully made. It made me feel both fortunate and humbled, and in the way that some movies have of seeming to carry a personal message just for you, it made me feel proud of everything in my life that came only after a successful struggle, from the smallest failed experiment that was repeated twenty times in twenty ways to stepping over the worst decisions made in life to get to the best. Do watch it if you haven't yet.
So what has happened in these four years, and how if at all does it affect my writing? Well, four main things have happened I think..I got my PhD, got married, did a year's worth of freelance science writing~journalism and finally: I made up for a seven year glut of once- a-year travel (that too with constant background worry about this or that experiment not working), by wallowing in travel these last two years :) The most wonderful and satisfying for me were Cambodia, the forests of Bandipur and Mudhumalai(a long neglected old favourite)and of course the higher Himalayas following the Gangetic gorge. I feel enriched of course..like with most travel..but also genuinely more at peace for having seen these places and spent time with them. They deserve separate write ups.
Finishing my PhD was of course a big deal..although anti climactic at the time after all the build up :P I feel like I grew up over the course of doing the Masters/PhD (most of my twenties were spent in the process so even factually that's true :)So every strong influence in that period whether from new people, learning things or even dealing with disappointments is in a sense also a 'PhD influence'. I am sure it has moulded how I write and what about, as well. As to being married, I can't offhand see how it might have affected my writing style or topics..except that I am better qualified to write about food now, given I have been cooking every day for two years :P And I suppose constantly hearing about all sorts of trains at home must have an impact somewhere..where, I can't say yet!
Science writing took up a great deal of my time for about a year..it was both hard work and a lot of fun, and for anyone who is interested, here are most of the pieces: https://laasyasamhita.contently.com/
However, I also realised that I couldn't do it for more than about a year and am now back in a lab as a happy post doc :) I guess I was spoilt with the independence that hands on research gives, as also the scope for creativity. I realized that journals, even science journals, are ultimately commercial entities and constrained by a particular style and layout that they want to stick to. This meant that my pieces got varying levels of editing; from a minimal amount to practically rewriting the whole piece. The massively edited ones were a huge disappointment to me, it felt like the final pieces shouldn't even have my name on them. The other problem was that in many big journals, you can't look up past literature yourself and give an opinion, even with a citation (as one would do in a typical scientific publication). It has to come from a scientist in a faculty position, either the author or someone else in the same field. And given most stories have deadlines of a couple of days from start to finish, this meant a lot of frantic calling up of numbers all over the world at all times with requests for comments on paper x..while also feeling awfully guilty that we aren't giving them anything like enough time!! In fact it amazed me how often people in fact read the paper in question (I hope!) and gave comments in time, I always felt I was calling in a favour that wasn't due. These two not withstanding, it was still a great experience.
So to rescue this piece from being a purely nostalgic memory indulgence, I'll bring in a movie that I watched recently and strongly recommend to anyone who hasn't yet seen it. Its called 'The First Grader'. The story is a true one, about an 84 year old man with a passion for learning, who insists on being enrolled in the first grade to learn to read and write when Kenya announces its 'education for all' policy post independence from the British. It is moving, realistic and really just wonderfully made. It made me feel both fortunate and humbled, and in the way that some movies have of seeming to carry a personal message just for you, it made me feel proud of everything in my life that came only after a successful struggle, from the smallest failed experiment that was repeated twenty times in twenty ways to stepping over the worst decisions made in life to get to the best. Do watch it if you haven't yet.
Sunday, September 25, 2011
Nothing day
'Tomorrow is daughter's day!' announced the radio brightly. The dulcet tones continued, 'A daughter is a gift of life, celebrate her..buy her a memorable gift at zing mall this evening with our gift coupons..'. The tone indicated that if you were the kind of insensitive whatnot who (incredibly!) had not yet celebrated your daughter, then atleast have the grace to shamefacedly slink to the mall now...you may still be able to prove your love.
In school, I remember feeling v ashamed that I didnt know about 'Mother's day'. An older girl expressed much horror at this ignorance, 'You don't know?! I got my mum a coupon on MG road' she said, with a suitably superior air. Although duly crushed by this 9th std scorn, I remember asking what a 'coupon' was. A friendly classmate enlightened me: 'you can buy whatever you want with a coupon'- it seemed the ideal gift! To someone who could only remember making gifts until then, this coupon seemed an all new sophisticated idea,leaving far behind the poor smudged calendars, inky cards and gummy bookmarks. Much the idea, in fact, that radio jockeys and advertisements strive to convey. And an idea, apparently, that sells, and certainly not just to middle school students! Clearly there is money in this packaging of 'days'. With causes, I can see that some good may come of it, but who benefits from these 'people days', other than the commercial interests behind them? Certainly,we ve all heard people say 'These days are made only for those who dont appreciate their mothers/fathers/friends through the rest of the year, and are obliged to make a show of it on one day and feel better'. I dont know if this is always true, I m sure you can be appreciative both ways if you wanted to- and I for one am a celebrator of say, friendship's day and teacher's day :) but there's no doubt the category of 'special days' is swelling by the day.
I recently heard of a 'Brother-in-law' day, this seemed the most specific category so far :) Of course fathers day, grandparents day, even cousins day, all are constantly celebrated by Archies stores, where its quite a task these days to find the old simple 'happy birthday' or 'get well soon' cards anymore. I mentioned this to a friend's mother recently. She thought for a bit and said, 'I want to start a nothing day'. I thought it was a great idea :) A nothing day. With NO affiliation, no expectation of a gift, no guilt at having forgotten, no buying expensive gifts to make up for something or the other..just a simple normal day. I want to start this..assuming there's still room in the calendar!
In school, I remember feeling v ashamed that I didnt know about 'Mother's day'. An older girl expressed much horror at this ignorance, 'You don't know?! I got my mum a coupon on MG road' she said, with a suitably superior air. Although duly crushed by this 9th std scorn, I remember asking what a 'coupon' was. A friendly classmate enlightened me: 'you can buy whatever you want with a coupon'- it seemed the ideal gift! To someone who could only remember making gifts until then, this coupon seemed an all new sophisticated idea,leaving far behind the poor smudged calendars, inky cards and gummy bookmarks. Much the idea, in fact, that radio jockeys and advertisements strive to convey. And an idea, apparently, that sells, and certainly not just to middle school students! Clearly there is money in this packaging of 'days'. With causes, I can see that some good may come of it, but who benefits from these 'people days', other than the commercial interests behind them? Certainly,we ve all heard people say 'These days are made only for those who dont appreciate their mothers/fathers/friends through the rest of the year, and are obliged to make a show of it on one day and feel better'. I dont know if this is always true, I m sure you can be appreciative both ways if you wanted to- and I for one am a celebrator of say, friendship's day and teacher's day :) but there's no doubt the category of 'special days' is swelling by the day.
I recently heard of a 'Brother-in-law' day, this seemed the most specific category so far :) Of course fathers day, grandparents day, even cousins day, all are constantly celebrated by Archies stores, where its quite a task these days to find the old simple 'happy birthday' or 'get well soon' cards anymore. I mentioned this to a friend's mother recently. She thought for a bit and said, 'I want to start a nothing day'. I thought it was a great idea :) A nothing day. With NO affiliation, no expectation of a gift, no guilt at having forgotten, no buying expensive gifts to make up for something or the other..just a simple normal day. I want to start this..assuming there's still room in the calendar!
Monday, May 30, 2011
Please co-operate!
Some phrases have become so much a part of our life that nobody thinks them odd or out of place anymore. Here are a few that sometimes amuse and sometimes generate murderous tendencies in me-
1st prize - 'Please co-operate'!
This must be the most maligned phrase of our times, atleast in labs. Here is a typical notice for booking a common instrument (for which 10 people are breathing down each other's necks at any typical time)- 'The hood will be booked from 9 am to 5 pm, please co-operate'..nice try..
2nd- 'Paradigm shift'-
Someone please tell me what this means..
3rd- 'Chemistry' or 'Vibes'-
Someone actually told me once that maybe i didnt have 'good vibes with my labspace' which is probably why the lysate was contaminated!! Not that i m ignoring any possibilities, anyone in possession of vibe-restoring charms please pass them on!
4th- 'stay in the loop'
For some reason, this reminds me of those fancy hotel revolving doors that i m always nervous of!!
5th- 'They don't gel' (Maybe you should increase the agarose concentration..)
6th- 'Its all in the game' (which one? i m good at kho kho and bad at volleyball..)
After some days with an overdose of these ( a simple way to get it these days is to watch any newschannel for about 15 minutes) I was delighted to hear someone say 'Kindly adjust'('kindly', of course, gives it an added charm :) at Canara bank, it totally made my day. Its another matter that the consequence was that I had to go back another day, having misguidedly allowed sentiment to take over and let in a perfectly healthy looking young girl before me. but that's no big deal, its all in the game..
1st prize - 'Please co-operate'!
This must be the most maligned phrase of our times, atleast in labs. Here is a typical notice for booking a common instrument (for which 10 people are breathing down each other's necks at any typical time)- 'The hood will be booked from 9 am to 5 pm, please co-operate'..nice try..
2nd- 'Paradigm shift'-
Someone please tell me what this means..
3rd- 'Chemistry' or 'Vibes'-
Someone actually told me once that maybe i didnt have 'good vibes with my labspace' which is probably why the lysate was contaminated!! Not that i m ignoring any possibilities, anyone in possession of vibe-restoring charms please pass them on!
4th- 'stay in the loop'
For some reason, this reminds me of those fancy hotel revolving doors that i m always nervous of!!
5th- 'They don't gel' (Maybe you should increase the agarose concentration..)
6th- 'Its all in the game' (which one? i m good at kho kho and bad at volleyball..)
After some days with an overdose of these ( a simple way to get it these days is to watch any newschannel for about 15 minutes) I was delighted to hear someone say 'Kindly adjust'('kindly', of course, gives it an added charm :) at Canara bank, it totally made my day. Its another matter that the consequence was that I had to go back another day, having misguidedly allowed sentiment to take over and let in a perfectly healthy looking young girl before me. but that's no big deal, its all in the game..
Thursday, May 19, 2011
Geeky poem
After the second ligation and third transduction fail, one wonders..
The cell debris that earns a frown
Or P value that gets you down
The ice slurry that melts so fast
That competent cells they float full mast
The Streptococcus so cheery,
That Amp or Kan it makes merry
The enzyme assay that looks all nice
Until the blot satanically dries
The transfer apparatus that stops midway
Even when you remembered to pray
The ligation colony that is not a clone
Transforming ecstatic smile to heartfelt groan
The cells that thrive on a tryptone feast
Except on cross examination they turn out to be yeast
The PCR that only works on alternate weekends,
With prima donna moods that rival fashion trends
I wonder whether all of this, is on ‘entertainment E. coli ’
As a pick me up and comic turn for bored bacilli!
If its being broadcast on some bacterial underground network, I m sure no channel could compete with its TRP's..
The cell debris that earns a frown
Or P value that gets you down
The ice slurry that melts so fast
That competent cells they float full mast
The Streptococcus so cheery,
That Amp or Kan it makes merry
The enzyme assay that looks all nice
Until the blot satanically dries
The transfer apparatus that stops midway
Even when you remembered to pray
The ligation colony that is not a clone
Transforming ecstatic smile to heartfelt groan
The cells that thrive on a tryptone feast
Except on cross examination they turn out to be yeast
The PCR that only works on alternate weekends,
With prima donna moods that rival fashion trends
I wonder whether all of this, is on ‘entertainment E. coli ’
As a pick me up and comic turn for bored bacilli!
If its being broadcast on some bacterial underground network, I m sure no channel could compete with its TRP's..
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
wHIRLWIND mUMBAI
I was in Bombay for a whirlwind two and a half days visiting a friend, a combination of Madhu's enterprise and advance plans helped us exploit the time fully though! :)
I thought a photo collagey thing would be a better expression of the trip than anything I could write :) I cant seem to fit it into the blog post space so its just above this, as the main blog pic. So this has the sunset from Juhu beach, the rocky seafront at Bandra, bangles at Colaba causeway, the awessome chocolate brownie at Theobromas (apparently they deliver all over now, note!!),the posters at Prithvi theatre, the Bombay symphony orchestra at NCPA and the amazingly skilled elderly man at Prithvi's cafe who made(is making, in the pic) cheese pav bhaji :), the Einstein head from the National gallery of Modern art, the famous wall to wall Hussain frescoe at TIFR, and of course, us, at Bandra seaface cum mysterious fort..the writing was long gone so no idea what the fort is :)
I came away with the feeling of having stepped into a kaleidoscope..The bits of Bombay I met were friendly and efficient. And in the relatively upmarket areas, very aesthetic..cobbled lanes and houses as restaurants in every gully..Like a friend pointed out, probably Indranagar in disguise :)Of course the starkest contrasts between rich and poor are still probably here..the slums reside side by side with Ambani's bungalow..but I certainly felt that the eateries (damn expensive, thats definitely a downside :( score very high..amazing Parsi, Iranian and Italian fare that I can vouch for! They should have a Mumbai Michelin :)
And..I now know how much a glass of tea costs at the Taj- for those who dont- believe or not- its 400 rs. I mean, at that price I'd want the tea plant so generations could thrive on it!! We were so shocked (or I was:) and discussed leaving quietly in such an obvious way that I suspect thats what got us free chocolate cookies :))
I thought a photo collagey thing would be a better expression of the trip than anything I could write :) I cant seem to fit it into the blog post space so its just above this, as the main blog pic. So this has the sunset from Juhu beach, the rocky seafront at Bandra, bangles at Colaba causeway, the awessome chocolate brownie at Theobromas (apparently they deliver all over now, note!!),the posters at Prithvi theatre, the Bombay symphony orchestra at NCPA and the amazingly skilled elderly man at Prithvi's cafe who made(is making, in the pic) cheese pav bhaji :), the Einstein head from the National gallery of Modern art, the famous wall to wall Hussain frescoe at TIFR, and of course, us, at Bandra seaface cum mysterious fort..the writing was long gone so no idea what the fort is :)
I came away with the feeling of having stepped into a kaleidoscope..The bits of Bombay I met were friendly and efficient. And in the relatively upmarket areas, very aesthetic..cobbled lanes and houses as restaurants in every gully..Like a friend pointed out, probably Indranagar in disguise :)Of course the starkest contrasts between rich and poor are still probably here..the slums reside side by side with Ambani's bungalow..but I certainly felt that the eateries (damn expensive, thats definitely a downside :( score very high..amazing Parsi, Iranian and Italian fare that I can vouch for! They should have a Mumbai Michelin :)
And..I now know how much a glass of tea costs at the Taj- for those who dont- believe or not- its 400 rs. I mean, at that price I'd want the tea plant so generations could thrive on it!! We were so shocked (or I was:) and discussed leaving quietly in such an obvious way that I suspect thats what got us free chocolate cookies :))
Monday, April 18, 2011
food books
I think almost all food tastes better if had with the right book in hand. Of course the right company makes it very, if not more, enjoyable, but now I think about it, the taste buds get a raw deal. You re too busy composing the next answer or listening to soak in the food (assuming its worth soaking in of course- all beetroot and papaya related things excluded right now). But books are more passive, you can read, put them down, chew,savour, think and pick them up again. If you like some section you can saunter down that part, guess what comes next, and then do it all over again. As a side angle, eating with a book also draws far more attention than eating with any live person does. I dont know whether out of sympathy (paapa she doesn't have any friends) or curiosity, but everyone wants to know more about you the moment you re caught eating with a book in hand. In short, although vetoed as a bad food practice, I think theres something to be said in favour of book- eating too :)
So what are your favourite food books? Here is my list:
THE BEST: Wodehouse: I think the easygoing and mad happenings of Wodehouses stimulate gastric juices or something, I always eat more and feel happier with them!
Agatha Christie: Non gory, very gossipy and such a skilled character sketcher! great with food
Enid Blytons: Fabulous!Her food descriptions alone were enough to sustain a meal (fresh farm tomatoes, hot bread from the oven, and hot many other things I didn't even know the meaning of, but it didn't matter)
Harry Potter: The coolest,ALL Of them :)
Gerald Durrell: Feel good independently and with food, always
Also William, Rex Stout, Tintin but not Asterix (dont know why), Edith Nesbit. Don Camillo. Roald dahl- the non scary ones ONLY. Triveni (not the sad ones, again)
specific books : All Mma Ramotswe stories, Raga n josh, The microbe hunters. City of djinns.
THE WORST- P.D. James (the goriest murders ever, and you ll just sink into a dark mood)
the so so ones-
Ngaio marsh, Calvin (too restless I think?), actually comics in general are not great, except Tintin somehow..Frank o connor, Somerset maugham, Kuvempu (I think guilt. he s so scholarly and polished that you feel it cant be taken so lightly..feels like sacrilege).
Palace walk (too much detail to absorb) and The Kiterunner (too sad).
The WORST ever- Analytical chemistry- the Bangalore university prescribed one. I tried it once,obviously when in dire straits, and it put me off lunch AND dinner. It just gave me a hopeless feeling. Even the cover is especially unappealing, and am sure also unappetising, for poor foraging paper mites :(
Of course you cant insult the best books by reading them with sidey food..that wont give you any sort of good feeling. It needs quite a mix and match perrsonallized standardization..good luck :)
So what are your favourite food books? Here is my list:
THE BEST: Wodehouse: I think the easygoing and mad happenings of Wodehouses stimulate gastric juices or something, I always eat more and feel happier with them!
Agatha Christie: Non gory, very gossipy and such a skilled character sketcher! great with food
Enid Blytons: Fabulous!Her food descriptions alone were enough to sustain a meal (fresh farm tomatoes, hot bread from the oven, and hot many other things I didn't even know the meaning of, but it didn't matter)
Harry Potter: The coolest,ALL Of them :)
Gerald Durrell: Feel good independently and with food, always
Also William, Rex Stout, Tintin but not Asterix (dont know why), Edith Nesbit. Don Camillo. Roald dahl- the non scary ones ONLY. Triveni (not the sad ones, again)
specific books : All Mma Ramotswe stories, Raga n josh, The microbe hunters. City of djinns.
THE WORST- P.D. James (the goriest murders ever, and you ll just sink into a dark mood)
the so so ones-
Ngaio marsh, Calvin (too restless I think?), actually comics in general are not great, except Tintin somehow..Frank o connor, Somerset maugham, Kuvempu (I think guilt. he s so scholarly and polished that you feel it cant be taken so lightly..feels like sacrilege).
Palace walk (too much detail to absorb) and The Kiterunner (too sad).
The WORST ever- Analytical chemistry- the Bangalore university prescribed one. I tried it once,obviously when in dire straits, and it put me off lunch AND dinner. It just gave me a hopeless feeling. Even the cover is especially unappealing, and am sure also unappetising, for poor foraging paper mites :(
Of course you cant insult the best books by reading them with sidey food..that wont give you any sort of good feeling. It needs quite a mix and match perrsonallized standardization..good luck :)
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
food for the soul and stomach :)
1) The most spirited rendering of the old favourite 'bhagyada lakshmi baramma' that I have heard. I re-heard it after years and cant stop..WHAT a voice, and what a simple powerful rendition of this simple classic!! I really felt like anyone would feel like granting wishes or coming instantly (lakshmi baramma!)hearing this !!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_tdYY6lUw9g
2) A guaranteed feel good full meal combination recipe
Cheese chapati with pickle, and cauliflower something rice (i havent decided what to christen it :)
Simplest way to make a cheese chapati-
Make two chapatis, grate cheese, sprinkle (liberally) on one, add the other on top, pat gently and put on the tava. don't try rolling it again though, if it doesn't break, it ll definitely push the cheese somewhere in the dough and the taste is quite different. Eat hot, and with lemon pickle for best mood lifting :)
The cauliflower something rice:
Cut cauliflower florets, keep soaked in salt water for half hour. Cook them with minimal oil, add just a pinch of asofateida ('ingu'- i can never spell the asof-..) and karben soppu/ kadi patta for taste (remove it later) also add haldi liberally, keep it covered and let it cook for about 20 minutes. Meanwhile saute finely chopped onions on the pan in minimal oil. Cut tomatoes in quarters and cut away the pulp so that only the dry seedless part remains.Take near-fully cooked rice (i used the regular, but basmati will be great), add a little oil in pan and toss around the rice till it browns. keep aside. mix the rice, cauli-tomatoes and onions, keep in pan and cook for maybe 5 minutes. if you like herbs, sprinkle basil on top (namdharis!) . i actually ate it with kadi patta chutney pudi..i dont want to boast but oh god it was delicious!! :)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_tdYY6lUw9g
2) A guaranteed feel good full meal combination recipe
Cheese chapati with pickle, and cauliflower something rice (i havent decided what to christen it :)
Simplest way to make a cheese chapati-
Make two chapatis, grate cheese, sprinkle (liberally) on one, add the other on top, pat gently and put on the tava. don't try rolling it again though, if it doesn't break, it ll definitely push the cheese somewhere in the dough and the taste is quite different. Eat hot, and with lemon pickle for best mood lifting :)
The cauliflower something rice:
Cut cauliflower florets, keep soaked in salt water for half hour. Cook them with minimal oil, add just a pinch of asofateida ('ingu'- i can never spell the asof-..) and karben soppu/ kadi patta for taste (remove it later) also add haldi liberally, keep it covered and let it cook for about 20 minutes. Meanwhile saute finely chopped onions on the pan in minimal oil. Cut tomatoes in quarters and cut away the pulp so that only the dry seedless part remains.Take near-fully cooked rice (i used the regular, but basmati will be great), add a little oil in pan and toss around the rice till it browns. keep aside. mix the rice, cauli-tomatoes and onions, keep in pan and cook for maybe 5 minutes. if you like herbs, sprinkle basil on top (namdharis!) . i actually ate it with kadi patta chutney pudi..i dont want to boast but oh god it was delicious!! :)
Sunday, January 2, 2011
the new year new age questionnaire :)
1) What do you have a natural gift for? (not a talent, just a character trait)
i) Guilting myself:
:) i was damn good at this even at the age of 8, when an (evil! grr..) cousin convinced me that my grandfather was going to be arrested because i had laughed so loudly..although way better now, i can still spend completely unnecessary guilted times, provided the guilter does a good logical job :)
ii)Seeing the lighter side of things:
this is a plus for me, but am sure can be dampening for others at times! it also means very little scope for reverence or belief about things without tangible proof of them. come to think of it, that can be damn irritating if stretched to its maximum. like my mother often says as a favourite exasperated statement 'for you everyone else is right' :) just the irritating habit of seeing all points of view leading to the conclusion that nobody is wrong..but luckily i take sides nonetheless, on principle :) also luckily, things like seas, books, mountains, children,music and rainbows exist, and can generate quite enough reverence to keep me in touch with the sentiment! :)
iii) Paranoia:
i still look under the bed every night..if i m not allowed i would sit up with a torch and get bleary eyed.
and any smart would be murderer would just have to lock me in a room alone with 'the ring' or its equivalent on autoplay...
iv) sensing emotion
I dont know how to describe this!:) but i could always tell even in school if the teacher'd had a fight at home in the first 10 minutes..and it always bothered me that nobody cared to be gentler with her that day :(
2) Do you like self help and 'designed to inspire' kind of books?
No. as to why..I think because I don't learn anything from them, and they don't evoke any feeling from me! like someone said, touches neither mind nor heart :) atleast the few i ve read i ve found either pretentious (meaning fairly obvious truths cloaked in fancy terms) or just plain uninteresting :(..i cant say a thing to anyone raving about the book 'jonathan livingstone seagull', for example! (though what a lovely name :) But i believe the category has expanded so i may be generalizing unintentionally. there are apparently more concrete ones written now, for instance with people's life stories..i havent tried them but atleast i can see that they must have some content, so should try..
3) What do you respect in people around you?
well of course thats a long list! But I think it d boil down to strength of character and a sort of tenacity. Strength of character sounds like a conveniently loose term :) but I mean it as some mix of sincerity, passion,interest,conviction and hard work. I think its a poor way to spend a life if done with a half hearted interest in what you do and in people and things around you. I m also among those who can unfortunately admire some facets of people, even if i dont like them (damn :) :)
4) What bothers you in people?
Lack of tolerance bothers me very much. Both at the personal and at the larger..for instance in evidence right now, country level. Maybe it partly stems of working in a field where variety is admired and is the basis for everything else.. I find it incredible that one cAN object to people doing things differently, instead of being happy to learn that there is one more way of doing it!
so does lack of sensitivity.
so does a sense of extra bhaav ( i prefer it to 'ego' :)..even the merited kind can be hard to take, the unmerited generates sand-pit ducking impulses in me!!
5) What are you bad at?
i) drawing
ii) accepting a compliment
iii) pretending
iv) Going to a bank or office and not fighting with a lady
v) Convincing the IISc security that i m a legitimate student here..
i would have added waiting in a queue but thats not true anymore! yay i ve learnt tons of patience :)
6) What are you bad at understanding?
i) An inability to laugh at oneself:
Somehow I think the rigidity born of this attitude diminishes anyone's personality :(
ii) Politicians and businessmen donating to temples in crores while letting schools and hospitals languish:
I have nothing against it being both, but in a country like ours I find it really sad that people with money to give often choose to soothe their own consciences apparently to wash away sin, while someone's life can be changed drastically with it. Thankfully I believe many places run associated charities, i hope they expand.
iii) Imposing your views or preferences on others:
Not happening!though a healthy argument is very much happening :)
iv) Many society driven 'ushoo's :) :
must be plenty such taboos, and some that i agree with by virtue of my own personality or upbringing or inhibitions, but a taboo that has no basis other than that someone has decided its 'bad' or immoral or whatever, carries no conviction with me..unless of course its proven harmful
8) What do you think is essential to growth (as a person)?
i) Travel! :)
ii) Interacting with people (like R.K.Narayan and Miss Marple have pointed out in two v different cultures, a village can provide as much scope as the world if rightly tapped :)
iii) A general willingness and effort to explore and accept
9) Are you good at forgiving people and yourself?
Yes! :) and no :(
10) Do you get enough exercise?
No.But am getting better in small doses!
11) Would you enjoy working in industry?
I doubt it v much..but I might like it for a short time, just for the experience. On the whole I m all for academics or any private freelancey thing for a sane balance of things in life :) not to say you cant get madly involved and slavedriving academics, of course you do! but if you re calling the shots you can arrange it your way in a quiet non madly competitive place, and have time to call your own :)
well thats a longish list..happy new year everyone! :)
i) Guilting myself:
:) i was damn good at this even at the age of 8, when an (evil! grr..) cousin convinced me that my grandfather was going to be arrested because i had laughed so loudly..although way better now, i can still spend completely unnecessary guilted times, provided the guilter does a good logical job :)
ii)Seeing the lighter side of things:
this is a plus for me, but am sure can be dampening for others at times! it also means very little scope for reverence or belief about things without tangible proof of them. come to think of it, that can be damn irritating if stretched to its maximum. like my mother often says as a favourite exasperated statement 'for you everyone else is right' :) just the irritating habit of seeing all points of view leading to the conclusion that nobody is wrong..but luckily i take sides nonetheless, on principle :) also luckily, things like seas, books, mountains, children,music and rainbows exist, and can generate quite enough reverence to keep me in touch with the sentiment! :)
iii) Paranoia:
i still look under the bed every night..if i m not allowed i would sit up with a torch and get bleary eyed.
and any smart would be murderer would just have to lock me in a room alone with 'the ring' or its equivalent on autoplay...
iv) sensing emotion
I dont know how to describe this!:) but i could always tell even in school if the teacher'd had a fight at home in the first 10 minutes..and it always bothered me that nobody cared to be gentler with her that day :(
2) Do you like self help and 'designed to inspire' kind of books?
No. as to why..I think because I don't learn anything from them, and they don't evoke any feeling from me! like someone said, touches neither mind nor heart :) atleast the few i ve read i ve found either pretentious (meaning fairly obvious truths cloaked in fancy terms) or just plain uninteresting :(..i cant say a thing to anyone raving about the book 'jonathan livingstone seagull', for example! (though what a lovely name :) But i believe the category has expanded so i may be generalizing unintentionally. there are apparently more concrete ones written now, for instance with people's life stories..i havent tried them but atleast i can see that they must have some content, so should try..
3) What do you respect in people around you?
well of course thats a long list! But I think it d boil down to strength of character and a sort of tenacity. Strength of character sounds like a conveniently loose term :) but I mean it as some mix of sincerity, passion,interest,conviction and hard work. I think its a poor way to spend a life if done with a half hearted interest in what you do and in people and things around you. I m also among those who can unfortunately admire some facets of people, even if i dont like them (damn :) :)
4) What bothers you in people?
Lack of tolerance bothers me very much. Both at the personal and at the larger..for instance in evidence right now, country level. Maybe it partly stems of working in a field where variety is admired and is the basis for everything else.. I find it incredible that one cAN object to people doing things differently, instead of being happy to learn that there is one more way of doing it!
so does lack of sensitivity.
so does a sense of extra bhaav ( i prefer it to 'ego' :)..even the merited kind can be hard to take, the unmerited generates sand-pit ducking impulses in me!!
5) What are you bad at?
i) drawing
ii) accepting a compliment
iii) pretending
iv) Going to a bank or office and not fighting with a lady
v) Convincing the IISc security that i m a legitimate student here..
i would have added waiting in a queue but thats not true anymore! yay i ve learnt tons of patience :)
6) What are you bad at understanding?
i) An inability to laugh at oneself:
Somehow I think the rigidity born of this attitude diminishes anyone's personality :(
ii) Politicians and businessmen donating to temples in crores while letting schools and hospitals languish:
I have nothing against it being both, but in a country like ours I find it really sad that people with money to give often choose to soothe their own consciences apparently to wash away sin, while someone's life can be changed drastically with it. Thankfully I believe many places run associated charities, i hope they expand.
iii) Imposing your views or preferences on others:
Not happening!though a healthy argument is very much happening :)
iv) Many society driven 'ushoo's :) :
must be plenty such taboos, and some that i agree with by virtue of my own personality or upbringing or inhibitions, but a taboo that has no basis other than that someone has decided its 'bad' or immoral or whatever, carries no conviction with me..unless of course its proven harmful
8) What do you think is essential to growth (as a person)?
i) Travel! :)
ii) Interacting with people (like R.K.Narayan and Miss Marple have pointed out in two v different cultures, a village can provide as much scope as the world if rightly tapped :)
iii) A general willingness and effort to explore and accept
9) Are you good at forgiving people and yourself?
Yes! :) and no :(
10) Do you get enough exercise?
No.But am getting better in small doses!
11) Would you enjoy working in industry?
I doubt it v much..but I might like it for a short time, just for the experience. On the whole I m all for academics or any private freelancey thing for a sane balance of things in life :) not to say you cant get madly involved and slavedriving academics, of course you do! but if you re calling the shots you can arrange it your way in a quiet non madly competitive place, and have time to call your own :)
well thats a longish list..happy new year everyone! :)
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
Felix felicis :)
Felix felicis or 'liquid luck' is a potion that brings luck, and for the non Harry Potter people, it makes its appearance in the sixth book and gives the drinker a nice heady feeling with success in everything for some time period. It sounded a highly desirable potion (takes six months to brew) to me,it just made even stronger the case to not be born a muggle..But then I though about it, we don't do that badly in the non magic world either :)Here are my inevitable comfort and peace and happiness givers,and not all that hard to get, either! how different are yours?
1)Having a good hearty laugh about something ridiculously trivial
2)Meeting old friends
3) Dark chocolate. preferably hot! and particularly in sauce form with vanilla icecream and a brownie, or even just the smell will do (I can get high on cocoa)
4) Good food in general..particularly if associated with cauliflower, bhindi or cheese, and garnished with good company :)also good books in general
5) Good food with a good solid mystery or a good 'food book' in hand! Some books just go well with food, some, like Japanese thrillers, totally dont. Dont know why, probably just the styles..clinically precise and logical books are bad with food i ve figured, the best are slow paced or humorous (wodehouse, roald dahl and gerald durrell are all fantastic food books! )or should periodically talk a lot about food..like the enid blytons. It has to add to your enjoyment of cauliflower and tomatoes if you re reading about 'freshly picked tomatoes glistening with dew' :)
6) Looking at masses of Flowers- particularly tiger lilies, zerberas and the little purple ones..
7) Sleeping insanely late on saturday nights and getting up insanely late to the smell of chai on sunday morning..also an unexpected afternoon nap when reely reely exhausted but virtuous :) (like if you ve wrapped up some work or feel satisfied with something)..i ve read that people feel cheered up waking up with the sun..would be nice, say twice a year :))
8)A good movie in a relaxed environment..best with company, but could be fine alone too, depends on the movie also :) (I wouldnt dare watch something like 'the ring' by myself)
9) Shopping for books and clothes :) books anytime, rest has to be after some months of respite, then works like a charm. it also helps if you re looking for something for someone else and find the perfect thing
10) Hearing or telling stories..this should have come higher up
11) Watching rain..nothing like a thorough downpour to wash out all low feeling :)
12) Clinching an argument with that ace that nobody had thought of :) this is a total cheap thrill but rare enough to be looked fwd to!! :)
13) Playing with children young enough to be fond of things like hide and seek and ignorant of dvds and facebook..that is if they still exist :)
14) Unwrapping a gift
15) getting a compliment. actually getting a compliment secondhand. that way you get the pleasure minus the embarrassment :)
16) Listening to the kind of music that always gives me goosebumps or tears or a high, depending which.. in general for upliftment i d pick mozart, kishori amonkar, paluskar's bhajans, some by the beatles,violin by M.S. Gopalakrishnan and flute by N. Ramani.but definitely also the sound of rain, chimes and laughter :)
must be plenty more, but these atleast should give felix a run for his money!
1)Having a good hearty laugh about something ridiculously trivial
2)Meeting old friends
3) Dark chocolate. preferably hot! and particularly in sauce form with vanilla icecream and a brownie, or even just the smell will do (I can get high on cocoa)
4) Good food in general..particularly if associated with cauliflower, bhindi or cheese, and garnished with good company :)also good books in general
5) Good food with a good solid mystery or a good 'food book' in hand! Some books just go well with food, some, like Japanese thrillers, totally dont. Dont know why, probably just the styles..clinically precise and logical books are bad with food i ve figured, the best are slow paced or humorous (wodehouse, roald dahl and gerald durrell are all fantastic food books! )or should periodically talk a lot about food..like the enid blytons. It has to add to your enjoyment of cauliflower and tomatoes if you re reading about 'freshly picked tomatoes glistening with dew' :)
6) Looking at masses of Flowers- particularly tiger lilies, zerberas and the little purple ones..
7) Sleeping insanely late on saturday nights and getting up insanely late to the smell of chai on sunday morning..also an unexpected afternoon nap when reely reely exhausted but virtuous :) (like if you ve wrapped up some work or feel satisfied with something)..i ve read that people feel cheered up waking up with the sun..would be nice, say twice a year :))
8)A good movie in a relaxed environment..best with company, but could be fine alone too, depends on the movie also :) (I wouldnt dare watch something like 'the ring' by myself)
9) Shopping for books and clothes :) books anytime, rest has to be after some months of respite, then works like a charm. it also helps if you re looking for something for someone else and find the perfect thing
10) Hearing or telling stories..this should have come higher up
11) Watching rain..nothing like a thorough downpour to wash out all low feeling :)
12) Clinching an argument with that ace that nobody had thought of :) this is a total cheap thrill but rare enough to be looked fwd to!! :)
13) Playing with children young enough to be fond of things like hide and seek and ignorant of dvds and facebook..that is if they still exist :)
14) Unwrapping a gift
15) getting a compliment. actually getting a compliment secondhand. that way you get the pleasure minus the embarrassment :)
16) Listening to the kind of music that always gives me goosebumps or tears or a high, depending which.. in general for upliftment i d pick mozart, kishori amonkar, paluskar's bhajans, some by the beatles,violin by M.S. Gopalakrishnan and flute by N. Ramani.but definitely also the sound of rain, chimes and laughter :)
must be plenty more, but these atleast should give felix a run for his money!
Monday, November 8, 2010
The tale of the ricksy auto
'Give me a Bangalorean and I ll give you someone frustrated with autorickshaws' ,Archimedes could have, but didn't, say. Which of course, is only because he was never caught in the rain haggling for 10 rupees 'over the meter' with an auto driver who wasn't 'going in his direction'.
Autorickshaw drivers are said to be ruder in Chennai, ignorant of the meter in Delhi, and almost non existent in Mumbai. But I defy any other city to produce the range of entertainment and eccentricity that Bangalore does. Bangalore, like the rest of 'old Mysore state' infact, long had a reputation for being easygoing. Shops opened late, siestas were common until recently, and all in all you didn't find the average Bangalorean volunteering for any strenuous activity, much preferring a dignified afternoon alu bonda with steaming coffee, watching the world go by from the window. Having grown up in faster paced times, I hadn't really observed this dying out tendency, until I became a frequent auto commuter.
I wanted to go to Residency road, and naively got into the first empty rickshaw saying where I wanted to go (something I wouldnt dream of doing now!). The driver looked highly disinterested and said he had to go home for dinner. I was taken aback, dinner at 6. 30?? Yes, he said firmly, his wife would be waiting. So i had to get down, unsure whether to laugh or protest. In the next half hour, I started to get exasperated as more and more excuses turned up. One,businesslike- 'Twenty rupees extra'. 'Why?' i demanded, outraged. 'Isnt there a meter'?? 'Meter doesnt work','then extra over what'?? 'I know how much it is, you give twenty extra'.
Another, languidly- 'My house is in Indranagar. If you want I can drop you there'. By now i was beginning to feel i was asking for a favour and maybe i should just go to Indranagar..By the time I got one I could have paid twenty rupees extra from sheer gratitude! These are routine, though.
There was one very nice man who was deeply concerned as to why I was keeping a handkerchief on my nose. 'Allergy'? he asked. I nodded, surprised. 'This allergy will eat your life, you have to do yoga', he announced. and then, confidentially, 'once i was also like you. everytime i sneezed my mother would ask 'who will marry this boy'?' then i started yoga, got married at 40, and one day also don't miss now'. I was v impressed, not having met a health conscious auto driver before. 'Dont eat fried food'!he added, glaring. I promised I wouldn't, trying not to think of the happalas I d just devoured, and the rest of the journey was friendly.
The overriding characteristic (other than inducing frustration!) of course is curiosity. This is an old Bangalore tendency that still prevails. Some years ago I was collecting samples of cowdung from the road to look for certain kinds of E. coli bacteria for my work. Having put them in sterile containers, much to the amusement of onlookers ,I nearly bumped into an autodriver who was leaning over so much that in two seconds he d have landed in the dung himself. 'College'? he asked with full confidence. I said no, I had to go to Tata Institute. 'Come, come', he was extra welcoming, an otherwise extinct trait among autodrivers..'What are you doing with this'? I explained as best as I could that I was looking for small germs, the best I could do in Kannada. He looked superior 'Oh, micro organisms?' I didn't know where to look, but hastily agreed. For the rest of the journey I was quizzed on why I was using them, what PCR was, and what I worked on. We finally parted on the best of terms and with much respect on my side.
The ultimate though, was being told off by one, when a friend and I got in a Brigade road, in a rather extra cheerful mode immediately after the toughest exam we had. We were laughing about something and it stretched on a bit, to be interrupted by the driver- 'your parents send you to good colleges and you come here to get drunk and take drugs'? he thundered. We were stunned. For some reason it didn't strike either of us to deny it, infact he was so sure i almost felt it must be true. We got a withering look and much mutterings of 'wasting money' and 'modern girls' and went all the way in the kind of pindrop silence teachers ask for in vain.
But of course, the largest population by far lounges at street corners and refuses to come anywhere. If anyone can explain the mystery of how they earn a living please tell me. I m convinced they all have alternative sources of income, or just black money from some source, and they have to pretend to work! Thank God there are still the odd entertaining and genuinely nice people, otherwise the burden of 'twenty extra' and 'khaali barbeku' would be just too much to bear!!
I liked the one I met last week. Leaving a friend at the gate, I said something to her ending with 'We ll take a rick'. 'Mount Carmel college maydam'? asked the lounging one. 'Yes' we chorused automatically, without stopping to think why he should want to know. Having (miraculously) agreed to kindly drop us where we were headed, my friend asked what he d meant by the college.' Usually no, people say auto', he announced. 'Only like Carmel college saying rick'. And only someone also belonging to a local girl's college of apparently 'fashionable' (read 'notorious') reputation can understand what that smirk did to us..Of course the fact that he no doubt had it dead right made it worse :)
Ricks or autos, I m willing to pledge undying gratitude to a being who agrees to come by the meter, and anywhere you humbly choose to go, however against his critical taste. I know its a laughable wish. Sigh.
Autorickshaw drivers are said to be ruder in Chennai, ignorant of the meter in Delhi, and almost non existent in Mumbai. But I defy any other city to produce the range of entertainment and eccentricity that Bangalore does. Bangalore, like the rest of 'old Mysore state' infact, long had a reputation for being easygoing. Shops opened late, siestas were common until recently, and all in all you didn't find the average Bangalorean volunteering for any strenuous activity, much preferring a dignified afternoon alu bonda with steaming coffee, watching the world go by from the window. Having grown up in faster paced times, I hadn't really observed this dying out tendency, until I became a frequent auto commuter.
I wanted to go to Residency road, and naively got into the first empty rickshaw saying where I wanted to go (something I wouldnt dream of doing now!). The driver looked highly disinterested and said he had to go home for dinner. I was taken aback, dinner at 6. 30?? Yes, he said firmly, his wife would be waiting. So i had to get down, unsure whether to laugh or protest. In the next half hour, I started to get exasperated as more and more excuses turned up. One,businesslike- 'Twenty rupees extra'. 'Why?' i demanded, outraged. 'Isnt there a meter'?? 'Meter doesnt work','then extra over what'?? 'I know how much it is, you give twenty extra'.
Another, languidly- 'My house is in Indranagar. If you want I can drop you there'. By now i was beginning to feel i was asking for a favour and maybe i should just go to Indranagar..By the time I got one I could have paid twenty rupees extra from sheer gratitude! These are routine, though.
There was one very nice man who was deeply concerned as to why I was keeping a handkerchief on my nose. 'Allergy'? he asked. I nodded, surprised. 'This allergy will eat your life, you have to do yoga', he announced. and then, confidentially, 'once i was also like you. everytime i sneezed my mother would ask 'who will marry this boy'?' then i started yoga, got married at 40, and one day also don't miss now'. I was v impressed, not having met a health conscious auto driver before. 'Dont eat fried food'!he added, glaring. I promised I wouldn't, trying not to think of the happalas I d just devoured, and the rest of the journey was friendly.
The overriding characteristic (other than inducing frustration!) of course is curiosity. This is an old Bangalore tendency that still prevails. Some years ago I was collecting samples of cowdung from the road to look for certain kinds of E. coli bacteria for my work. Having put them in sterile containers, much to the amusement of onlookers ,I nearly bumped into an autodriver who was leaning over so much that in two seconds he d have landed in the dung himself. 'College'? he asked with full confidence. I said no, I had to go to Tata Institute. 'Come, come', he was extra welcoming, an otherwise extinct trait among autodrivers..'What are you doing with this'? I explained as best as I could that I was looking for small germs, the best I could do in Kannada. He looked superior 'Oh, micro organisms?' I didn't know where to look, but hastily agreed. For the rest of the journey I was quizzed on why I was using them, what PCR was, and what I worked on. We finally parted on the best of terms and with much respect on my side.
The ultimate though, was being told off by one, when a friend and I got in a Brigade road, in a rather extra cheerful mode immediately after the toughest exam we had. We were laughing about something and it stretched on a bit, to be interrupted by the driver- 'your parents send you to good colleges and you come here to get drunk and take drugs'? he thundered. We were stunned. For some reason it didn't strike either of us to deny it, infact he was so sure i almost felt it must be true. We got a withering look and much mutterings of 'wasting money' and 'modern girls' and went all the way in the kind of pindrop silence teachers ask for in vain.
But of course, the largest population by far lounges at street corners and refuses to come anywhere. If anyone can explain the mystery of how they earn a living please tell me. I m convinced they all have alternative sources of income, or just black money from some source, and they have to pretend to work! Thank God there are still the odd entertaining and genuinely nice people, otherwise the burden of 'twenty extra' and 'khaali barbeku' would be just too much to bear!!
I liked the one I met last week. Leaving a friend at the gate, I said something to her ending with 'We ll take a rick'. 'Mount Carmel college maydam'? asked the lounging one. 'Yes' we chorused automatically, without stopping to think why he should want to know. Having (miraculously) agreed to kindly drop us where we were headed, my friend asked what he d meant by the college.' Usually no, people say auto', he announced. 'Only like Carmel college saying rick'. And only someone also belonging to a local girl's college of apparently 'fashionable' (read 'notorious') reputation can understand what that smirk did to us..Of course the fact that he no doubt had it dead right made it worse :)
Ricks or autos, I m willing to pledge undying gratitude to a being who agrees to come by the meter, and anywhere you humbly choose to go, however against his critical taste. I know its a laughable wish. Sigh.
Friday, November 5, 2010
The science of writing
'Writing is an art' said someone airily, and bought fame easy. Now if they d said 'Science writing is an art' I'm sure a larger (and haggard and glassy eyed) audience would have agreed wholeheartedly. After all, nobody HAS to write (certainly not in these days of outsourcing)..well except people who earn a living by it, like writers and journalists.And they like it anyway. For the rest, the literature haters can and do gleefully throw away textbooks the moment that exam is over, having anyway spent 10 years passing chits in the language classes and wondering moodily if the neighbour has solved more CET question papers in his tuitions.
Scientists on the other hand, attempt to work with some exercise of creativity, but HAVE to sell it by writing! Take some other creative pursuit, say painting. Imagine da Vinci being asked to submit a 10 page description of the Mona Lisa, before it could be publicly displayed!(Please give a short abstract and we feel the smile is too enigmatic, change it).
By common consensus or because knowledge is free and eagerly gobbled, publishing in peer reviewed journals is not just the accepted way of publicizing your scientific work today, its pretty much the only way. While Leeuwenhoek (the 'discoverer' of microbes ),got away with his rough notes of 'little animalcules' and made it big, the average scientist today attempting something similar would be laughed straight out of a job. Unfortunately, there is no apparent correlation between good scientists and good writers. While in many professions this may not matter much, in a setup where communication is critical to progress, it creates quite a problem. People do point out that science has the advantage that even in the most hideously constructed papers, the 'results' section can be decoded from the graphs and tables, and so, that the knowledge is not really lost. True, but every such writer must be earning enough curse points from PhD students looking for a 'can prepare in two hours' paper to land up in Slytherin without a password.
Personally, I was taught this in the best possible way by receiving a rude shock soon after entering research. Like many others, I came in bursting with ideas of varying impracticality. Also like others, I soon learnt that its nicer to hold on to enthusiasm than to results, partly because there isnt much of the second. Alright, I told myself. I may not be able to persuade the enzyme to 'adjust madi' with different grades of water, but what I can do is write a dazzling report. And I spent nights composing it too, and was quite proud of the final product. So that it came as a double shock to have it turned down with a thud and with the stern admonition that it showed a lack of seriousness, and to 'spend some time' on it. It took me some time after this to realise that science writing is very different from regular creative writing. In some ways its even opposite. Fewer adjectives, shorter prose, nobody cares for beautiful sentence constructions,nobody cares about your hypotheses unless backed up by some clear data, and most of all, the results have to be to the point and worded so that they convey the message and dont assume too much. In short, quite a task. It may come naturally to some people (lucky things), but it took me quite some time to get halfway decent.
It was the Royal Society which first systematized the collection, discussion and publishing of all scientific data. Apparently Robert Hooke, as its President, was asked to demonstrate 'one new law' every month or so!! Even for a genius, and even if 'law' is read as some new phenomenon, it seems quite a call. I looked for a picture of his before remembering that Isaac Newton had ordered every known portrait of his destroyed, in a vindictive burst.
If eccentricity is a necessity to be described as 'creative' science seems to be right at the top.Though I do feel it must have been more exciting to be doing science in the days when it was a more leisurely pursuit, and there was less of the 'publish or perish' spirit clouding true innovation, there's no doubt having access to all work in your area is a huge gift, too! I suppose nothing will convince the scientific community that not starting a paper with 'The transesterification of 2',3 hydroxy- something' or 'Dopamine induced aggregation of gangliar neurons..' may encourage not only the public, but also fellow scientists, to actually read the papers even when in a different field. I cant do better than to quote a master scientist cum science writer, Francis Crick, 'There is no form of prose more difficult to understand and more tedious to read than the average scientific paper'.
Somebody suggested that with the advent of the sms era, science writing (like other writing) will only get worse. Well, I hope not. But even if it does, the plus is that it would have to get shorter (dis nzym dsnt wk). And even if it does, there's always the library and the internet to read masterpieces of prose like The Microbe Hunters (which I just re-read and would strongly recommend to everyone!).
Scientists on the other hand, attempt to work with some exercise of creativity, but HAVE to sell it by writing! Take some other creative pursuit, say painting. Imagine da Vinci being asked to submit a 10 page description of the Mona Lisa, before it could be publicly displayed!(Please give a short abstract and we feel the smile is too enigmatic, change it).
By common consensus or because knowledge is free and eagerly gobbled, publishing in peer reviewed journals is not just the accepted way of publicizing your scientific work today, its pretty much the only way. While Leeuwenhoek (the 'discoverer' of microbes ),got away with his rough notes of 'little animalcules' and made it big, the average scientist today attempting something similar would be laughed straight out of a job. Unfortunately, there is no apparent correlation between good scientists and good writers. While in many professions this may not matter much, in a setup where communication is critical to progress, it creates quite a problem. People do point out that science has the advantage that even in the most hideously constructed papers, the 'results' section can be decoded from the graphs and tables, and so, that the knowledge is not really lost. True, but every such writer must be earning enough curse points from PhD students looking for a 'can prepare in two hours' paper to land up in Slytherin without a password.
Personally, I was taught this in the best possible way by receiving a rude shock soon after entering research. Like many others, I came in bursting with ideas of varying impracticality. Also like others, I soon learnt that its nicer to hold on to enthusiasm than to results, partly because there isnt much of the second. Alright, I told myself. I may not be able to persuade the enzyme to 'adjust madi' with different grades of water, but what I can do is write a dazzling report. And I spent nights composing it too, and was quite proud of the final product. So that it came as a double shock to have it turned down with a thud and with the stern admonition that it showed a lack of seriousness, and to 'spend some time' on it. It took me some time after this to realise that science writing is very different from regular creative writing. In some ways its even opposite. Fewer adjectives, shorter prose, nobody cares for beautiful sentence constructions,nobody cares about your hypotheses unless backed up by some clear data, and most of all, the results have to be to the point and worded so that they convey the message and dont assume too much. In short, quite a task. It may come naturally to some people (lucky things), but it took me quite some time to get halfway decent.
It was the Royal Society which first systematized the collection, discussion and publishing of all scientific data. Apparently Robert Hooke, as its President, was asked to demonstrate 'one new law' every month or so!! Even for a genius, and even if 'law' is read as some new phenomenon, it seems quite a call. I looked for a picture of his before remembering that Isaac Newton had ordered every known portrait of his destroyed, in a vindictive burst.
If eccentricity is a necessity to be described as 'creative' science seems to be right at the top.Though I do feel it must have been more exciting to be doing science in the days when it was a more leisurely pursuit, and there was less of the 'publish or perish' spirit clouding true innovation, there's no doubt having access to all work in your area is a huge gift, too! I suppose nothing will convince the scientific community that not starting a paper with 'The transesterification of 2',3 hydroxy- something' or 'Dopamine induced aggregation of gangliar neurons..' may encourage not only the public, but also fellow scientists, to actually read the papers even when in a different field. I cant do better than to quote a master scientist cum science writer, Francis Crick, 'There is no form of prose more difficult to understand and more tedious to read than the average scientific paper'.
Somebody suggested that with the advent of the sms era, science writing (like other writing) will only get worse. Well, I hope not. But even if it does, the plus is that it would have to get shorter (dis nzym dsnt wk). And even if it does, there's always the library and the internet to read masterpieces of prose like The Microbe Hunters (which I just re-read and would strongly recommend to everyone!).
Saturday, October 30, 2010
Two cultures
The Background
Years ago, C.P.Snow delivered a lecture (later a book) called 'The Two Cultures'. He was speaking of the Sciences and the Humanities, and how separate academic members of these two units are, or insist on being. It struck me that in a social context too, there are two contexts one can speak of, the orthodox or traditional and the modern or liberal. As long as they lead their separate lives, of course, there is no clash or need for compromise, they re happy to live in mutual lack of comprehension and maybe even mistrust. After all, like with the scientist versus history professor, they occupy different niches. Happily, the modern world with its similar education for all and travel made easy and whatnot has led to a good deal of mingling, and so here is an attempt at a story using two different social cultures :)
The Story
Abhay leaned over the edge and then slowly rocked back to see the reflection shimmer in and out. The Ganga was at its best in the evening, and the winter solstice sunset among the best. You could wish for anything on that one day (the longest night and shortest day)and all the saints who d ever done penance on these banks would conspire to make it come true. Or so he was told. Right then, however, he was just soaking in the unusual peace on its banks afforded by the big puja being on the other side. The boat-cum-ship was tethered, and its railings were an ideal place to look at the water from. Basking in the twilight, a rare feeling of complete peace enveloped him and he shut his eyes.
In two seconds, a muffled 'damn!' rang out. Abhay turned around, peevish at this intrusion. Had to be one of the eternal tourists impossible to avoid in Varanasi.
A girl stood up and dusted herself. 'Sorry' she said in a low voice, 'Go on staring, I just dropped my earring'.
Ok, not a western tourist, but might as well be from her appearance,thought Abhay, a tad jaundiced still from the breaking of his moment. The jeans and kurti clad girl certainly didnt look a localite, though she could easily be at the BHU. And what a weird way to talk to a stranger! 'go on staring'? well he wasnt going to be put down by a big city type either.
'I was just looking at the reflections..it was very peaceful' he added pointedly. 'theres nobody else here' he added. why else would she be on a boat in the near-dark? in any case Abhay had rather fixed views about the 'fashionable type' of girl and thought of 'them' as permanently between boyfriends and so likely to be in shady places for one reason only.
'I wasnt looking for anyone' said the girl, 'I came to look at the sunset too'.
'oh' said Abhay, taken aback. Then, realising it would be rude to turn away, 'Did you find the earring'?
'Yes thanks' smiled the girl. 'I'm Naina, by the way. I ve been here a week and am leaving tomorrow, and its the first day this place has been so peaceful so I wandered in'.
Abhay explained about the puja and introduced himself.
'Yes I heard', said the girl. 'Does everyone participate'?
That was what Abhay put down mentally as a 'typical foreigner question'. 'No, its conducted by the main temple priests', he said..'but of course anyone can watch, if thats what you mean'.
The girl nodded, and was silent for a bit. 'Its a beautiful river isnt it'? she asked after a while. 'I couldnt bear to look in the light, but now I can see how it must have been'.
Abhay agreed, thawing a bit. 'It is very dirty of course' he admitted, something he wouldnt normally have said to an out of sympathy outsider. 'but it has a feel and power..you should see it further down'
'Do you live here?' asked Naina.
'Yes', said Abhay, and suspecting a touch of big cityness, said 'Its very nice, a lot nicer in many ways than Delhi, where I study'
Naina sensed the defensiveness and said quickly that she was sure it must be.
Lulled, Abhay added in a burst of confidentiality, 'I dont usually tell people that it is dirty, I love this place'
Naina was surprised. 'Do you have to tell? Its quite, well, obvious!'
'Yes', said Abhay, 'but it usually sounds very superior and I'm forced to contradict it and I dont like lying'!
'oh like Yudhishthira or someone' said Naina lightly, smiling.
Abhay frowned.
'What'?
'I dont think its amusing to speak like that of gods ..'
'Yudhishthira isnt a god!'
..'Gods and holy texts and people in them..you didnt let me finish'.
Naina was up in arms now. 'oh really? well,
a) The Mahabharatha isnt a holy text..not counting Krishna, and he was openly manipulative and proud of it,
and b)I bet I know more characters out of the Mahabharatha than you do!'
This last was childish, she knew, but she was mad enough not to care. and upset. If every innocent statement was going to be objected to, how on earth was one to talk?! and much he knew about giving living people respect at this rate, let alone mythological ones.
It was advantage Abhay clearly though, and he smiled. 'Thats not the point. You may well know more names, its nothing to do with how you feel about it'.
Naina was calmer now. 'I find it one of the most fascinating texts ever written', she said. 'Its deep, beautiful and probably of far more practical value through all the cause and effect relationships it shows up, than many a management text..I have the deepest respect for all the people who must ve helped add to it, but if you re asking me to view either that or anything else as unquestionable or the absolute truth and not to be criticized, then that doesnt make sense to me. It seems like stifling all inquisitiveness and even for that matter creativity. Do you tell children to not ask questions??' she was getting worked up again.
Abhay reflected a bit..'Maybe i over reacted. i agree, nobody should be barred from asking questions, its just that random flippancy annoys me'
'Random flippancy can be both amusing and intelligent' said Naina a tad defiantly. ' and cruel, ok true..'
'why cruel'? asked Abhay, curious at this change of heart
'Well..its cruel to destroy belief isnt it? and i guess the deeper the belief the more cruel the forced awakening'
'Exactly'! Abhay was triumphant
'Yes, but i wasn't talking to an ardent Yudhishthira believer' said Naina smiling. 'atleast not that i knew of. and its very constraining to not be able to make the parallels you want..we learn from comparisons dont you think? after all somewhere someone before you must have had similar experiences..most often' .
Abhay nodded.'So long as you dont bother others'
'Yes but how far do you think that out?? People are bothered by the most trivial things! Ultimately you have to be able to call your soul your own and be guided by what you think is right!' Naina was passionate about it.
'Sounds like Voltaire' said Abhay
'Oh you like his things'? Naina was clearly surprised. Equally clearly she'd substituted 'like' for something else, likely 'know', last minute.
'We are taught English even here' said Abhay drily. 'And I study literature'
'I m sorry' smiled Naina penitently, then frankly, 'It didnt seem like someone so protective of holiness would mix with Voltaire, if you know what I mean'.
'You ve led a protected life' announced Abhay who knew just what she meant but wasnt going to admit it..and being more comfortable now, was able to say 'with a lot of comfort and convenience and probably not enough hardship'
Naina reflected..'Comfort and convenience definitely..but i'd think that applies to anyone of us well off in this country today..why, what have you suffered?' her lopsided grin popped out.
'Nothing major..' he admitted, and was forced to smile.
'Can you cook?' asked Naina abruptly
'Huh?..umm..not really..no.Can you'? It was clear the idea seemed laughable to him.
'Of course. I m just back from cooking for myself for two years'.
'Were you abroad'?? Abhay was beginning to wonder whether to attribute his companion's general behaviour to 'foreign influence'. It would be a happy solution, he was beginning to quite like her otherwise. Nothing like the West to be cast in the villain's role.
'I was in Dehradun for two years, i just got my masters in history..of course we had a mess.But you know how you yearn for different food..'she added confidentially
'Oh' said Abhay, who would have eaten puris and alu ki subzi without comment thrice a day.He was slightly abashed though.Clearly the generalization was at fault, she could do some things. Fair minded by nature, he was about to make up by asking what she could cook, when she got in first.
'Whats your favourite dish'?
Abhay, not having spent thousands of words already in talking of it to various people, had to pause for thought.'Probably dum aloo'
'With makki ki roti or alu paratha'?
This needed further thought. 'Makki ki roti' he said finally.
'Good' declared Naina, apparently satisfied.'alu paratha with alu would have been too obvious'.
Abhay was about to challenge this by saying there was nothing wrong with being obvious when it struck him that courtesy demanded the return question. And one never knew with girls, she probably wanted that discussed in the first place.
'Whats yours?'
'Between bhindi bhaji and fish curry'. The slight distaste emanating from Abhay was obvious. 'You must be very vegetarian' added Naina instantly.
'Yes', said Abhay, and forestalling the next remark, 'and i dont think i m missing anything'
Naina was surprised, 'I dont think so either!' and added, 'You know you should be a little less suspicious. i dont know who has, but everyone doesn't want to jump down your throat. Food is probably the last thing I 'd argue about..' here Abhay had his doubts, he d already argued more than he had in the last six months in one hour flat.
'one man's food another's poison etc..like i wouldnt dream of eating cabbage. its the one vegetable i cant stand' she announced.
'Atleast cabbages dont bleed' said Abhay caustically.
Naina looked repulsed. 'Thats gross! Nobody eats bleeding things, please!!'
'Are you under the impression that you eat meat without shedding blood? all you mean is you dont want to see it but you want the advantage of the end product' said Abhay dismissively.
'Now you re being nasty' said Naina clearly bothered by the declaration.
Abhay knew it but was too firm on his stand to be kinder.
There was a pause. 'Would you rather let tigers starve than let deer be killed'?
'No' agreed Abhay, 'but I dont think tigers have an option do they? And humans arent part of the natural balance'.
That was something Naina could jump on. 'They are', she said triumphantly..'but I know what you mean, its true we handle animals horribly..i guess when human rights are decided by money, you cant expect Animals to get a look in..'
Abhay said nothing.
'You know, in labs', continued Naina, 'even for experimental animals that are routinely 'sacrificed' to make antibodies for you and me ultimately, they have very strict handling protocols. You have to break the animal's neck cleanly in one stroke. Any playing around or longer times for it and you ll be in deep trouble..the point is that nobody has the right to inflict suffering'
'Well atleast thats good' said Abhay, in truce.
There was a pause.
'Would you know if there are any not too expensive Benarasi saree shops near here'? asked Naina, changing the topic. 'I want to get one for my mother'.
Abhay looked doubtful. 'I dont think cheap and Benarasi silk go together' he said.' The small lanes are your best bet, they have looms at home, so its genuine also'
Naina nodded.
'If you walk right down and turn left there is a big place you can get clothes from', he was being helpful
'Like what'?
'Oh, scarves and things like that', said Abhay vaguely.'Its next to a ladies cycle showroom'
'Oh can you rent?' this seemd an unexpected plus
'You can' said Abhay pointedly.
'You mean you havent tried?' cried Naina. These little lanes look lovely for cycing.
'Like I said, they only have girls cycles' repeated Abhay.
They stared at each other from a much farther distance. 'Are you telling me, that you haven't tried cycling here simply because you find it below your dignity to use a girls cycle' demanded Naina.
'Not below my dignity' protested Abhay. 'but yes, I wouldnt want to'.
Naina didnt know what to say. 'My brother uses mine all the time' she said finally.
'Thats different' said Abhay
'Ok, upto you of course' said Naina finally, searching for a non violent remark.' You know, you re nice, but you re very self..contained' she continued..'or maybe you just dont talk enough to girls'
Abhay didnt think so, but he kept peace with a 'maybe'.
'It sounds like you make your own rules and they cant be moved around'.
Abhay was stung at this..'Not at all, I m willing to be convinced otherwise'
'Yes, but only where it doesnt matter much anyway' said Naina with some penetration.
'Thats true for everyone' said Abhay
'Anyway i ve learnt quite a few things' she smiled. Then, clearing her throat, 'I think I should be leaving, its quite dark'. 'Nice meeting you' she added formally. It sounded forced to both of them and both laughed, spontaneously, breaking the strain.
Abhay looked around,'Who are you going with'?
Naina was surprised. 'I'm walking back, its hardly a couple of kilometres! Why, are there too many dogs?'
Abhay was speechless at this obviously innocent remark. Nobody, he was about to say, who has stayed in this city a week, could ask that question. In the first place, women didnt wander alone. And they most certainly weren't dressed in jeans. Not to mention that a sort of inbreeding had rendered this area particularly cut off from progress elsewhere. While this had its pluses, it certainly limited its view of the average confident city working woman.
'Not dogs, its not safe' he said.
'Why'? asked Naina, curious in turn. 'Oh you mean there are weird people'?
'Yes', said Abhay happy to put it that way. 'They dont expect nice people to be around alone at this time..'
'You mean nice girls' said Naina shrewdly, and then caught sight of a set of people on the bank and waved.
'Well thats ok, i ve found people'
'Do you have an email address'? asked Abhay. It turned out both did.
Ten minutes later, Abhay was still leaning on the rails. He had the curious breathless sensation of having lived at a hectic pace. Not an unpleasant sensation, though his preferred pace of life was rather calmer. He wondered if they d meet again.
Naina was rather quieter than usual on the walk back. She d had a very pleasant time and was wondering the same thing.
The moon had come up bright enough to light the road till its curving end. The boat with Abhay on it made a nice silhouette. Naina couldn't hide a self smile, thinking this was the time for the background music to begin. They walked on.
Years ago, C.P.Snow delivered a lecture (later a book) called 'The Two Cultures'. He was speaking of the Sciences and the Humanities, and how separate academic members of these two units are, or insist on being. It struck me that in a social context too, there are two contexts one can speak of, the orthodox or traditional and the modern or liberal. As long as they lead their separate lives, of course, there is no clash or need for compromise, they re happy to live in mutual lack of comprehension and maybe even mistrust. After all, like with the scientist versus history professor, they occupy different niches. Happily, the modern world with its similar education for all and travel made easy and whatnot has led to a good deal of mingling, and so here is an attempt at a story using two different social cultures :)
The Story
Abhay leaned over the edge and then slowly rocked back to see the reflection shimmer in and out. The Ganga was at its best in the evening, and the winter solstice sunset among the best. You could wish for anything on that one day (the longest night and shortest day)and all the saints who d ever done penance on these banks would conspire to make it come true. Or so he was told. Right then, however, he was just soaking in the unusual peace on its banks afforded by the big puja being on the other side. The boat-cum-ship was tethered, and its railings were an ideal place to look at the water from. Basking in the twilight, a rare feeling of complete peace enveloped him and he shut his eyes.
In two seconds, a muffled 'damn!' rang out. Abhay turned around, peevish at this intrusion. Had to be one of the eternal tourists impossible to avoid in Varanasi.
A girl stood up and dusted herself. 'Sorry' she said in a low voice, 'Go on staring, I just dropped my earring'.
Ok, not a western tourist, but might as well be from her appearance,thought Abhay, a tad jaundiced still from the breaking of his moment. The jeans and kurti clad girl certainly didnt look a localite, though she could easily be at the BHU. And what a weird way to talk to a stranger! 'go on staring'? well he wasnt going to be put down by a big city type either.
'I was just looking at the reflections..it was very peaceful' he added pointedly. 'theres nobody else here' he added. why else would she be on a boat in the near-dark? in any case Abhay had rather fixed views about the 'fashionable type' of girl and thought of 'them' as permanently between boyfriends and so likely to be in shady places for one reason only.
'I wasnt looking for anyone' said the girl, 'I came to look at the sunset too'.
'oh' said Abhay, taken aback. Then, realising it would be rude to turn away, 'Did you find the earring'?
'Yes thanks' smiled the girl. 'I'm Naina, by the way. I ve been here a week and am leaving tomorrow, and its the first day this place has been so peaceful so I wandered in'.
Abhay explained about the puja and introduced himself.
'Yes I heard', said the girl. 'Does everyone participate'?
That was what Abhay put down mentally as a 'typical foreigner question'. 'No, its conducted by the main temple priests', he said..'but of course anyone can watch, if thats what you mean'.
The girl nodded, and was silent for a bit. 'Its a beautiful river isnt it'? she asked after a while. 'I couldnt bear to look in the light, but now I can see how it must have been'.
Abhay agreed, thawing a bit. 'It is very dirty of course' he admitted, something he wouldnt normally have said to an out of sympathy outsider. 'but it has a feel and power..you should see it further down'
'Do you live here?' asked Naina.
'Yes', said Abhay, and suspecting a touch of big cityness, said 'Its very nice, a lot nicer in many ways than Delhi, where I study'
Naina sensed the defensiveness and said quickly that she was sure it must be.
Lulled, Abhay added in a burst of confidentiality, 'I dont usually tell people that it is dirty, I love this place'
Naina was surprised. 'Do you have to tell? Its quite, well, obvious!'
'Yes', said Abhay, 'but it usually sounds very superior and I'm forced to contradict it and I dont like lying'!
'oh like Yudhishthira or someone' said Naina lightly, smiling.
Abhay frowned.
'What'?
'I dont think its amusing to speak like that of gods ..'
'Yudhishthira isnt a god!'
..'Gods and holy texts and people in them..you didnt let me finish'.
Naina was up in arms now. 'oh really? well,
a) The Mahabharatha isnt a holy text..not counting Krishna, and he was openly manipulative and proud of it,
and b)I bet I know more characters out of the Mahabharatha than you do!'
This last was childish, she knew, but she was mad enough not to care. and upset. If every innocent statement was going to be objected to, how on earth was one to talk?! and much he knew about giving living people respect at this rate, let alone mythological ones.
It was advantage Abhay clearly though, and he smiled. 'Thats not the point. You may well know more names, its nothing to do with how you feel about it'.
Naina was calmer now. 'I find it one of the most fascinating texts ever written', she said. 'Its deep, beautiful and probably of far more practical value through all the cause and effect relationships it shows up, than many a management text..I have the deepest respect for all the people who must ve helped add to it, but if you re asking me to view either that or anything else as unquestionable or the absolute truth and not to be criticized, then that doesnt make sense to me. It seems like stifling all inquisitiveness and even for that matter creativity. Do you tell children to not ask questions??' she was getting worked up again.
Abhay reflected a bit..'Maybe i over reacted. i agree, nobody should be barred from asking questions, its just that random flippancy annoys me'
'Random flippancy can be both amusing and intelligent' said Naina a tad defiantly. ' and cruel, ok true..'
'why cruel'? asked Abhay, curious at this change of heart
'Well..its cruel to destroy belief isnt it? and i guess the deeper the belief the more cruel the forced awakening'
'Exactly'! Abhay was triumphant
'Yes, but i wasn't talking to an ardent Yudhishthira believer' said Naina smiling. 'atleast not that i knew of. and its very constraining to not be able to make the parallels you want..we learn from comparisons dont you think? after all somewhere someone before you must have had similar experiences..most often' .
Abhay nodded.'So long as you dont bother others'
'Yes but how far do you think that out?? People are bothered by the most trivial things! Ultimately you have to be able to call your soul your own and be guided by what you think is right!' Naina was passionate about it.
'Sounds like Voltaire' said Abhay
'Oh you like his things'? Naina was clearly surprised. Equally clearly she'd substituted 'like' for something else, likely 'know', last minute.
'We are taught English even here' said Abhay drily. 'And I study literature'
'I m sorry' smiled Naina penitently, then frankly, 'It didnt seem like someone so protective of holiness would mix with Voltaire, if you know what I mean'.
'You ve led a protected life' announced Abhay who knew just what she meant but wasnt going to admit it..and being more comfortable now, was able to say 'with a lot of comfort and convenience and probably not enough hardship'
Naina reflected..'Comfort and convenience definitely..but i'd think that applies to anyone of us well off in this country today..why, what have you suffered?' her lopsided grin popped out.
'Nothing major..' he admitted, and was forced to smile.
'Can you cook?' asked Naina abruptly
'Huh?..umm..not really..no.Can you'? It was clear the idea seemed laughable to him.
'Of course. I m just back from cooking for myself for two years'.
'Were you abroad'?? Abhay was beginning to wonder whether to attribute his companion's general behaviour to 'foreign influence'. It would be a happy solution, he was beginning to quite like her otherwise. Nothing like the West to be cast in the villain's role.
'I was in Dehradun for two years, i just got my masters in history..of course we had a mess.But you know how you yearn for different food..'she added confidentially
'Oh' said Abhay, who would have eaten puris and alu ki subzi without comment thrice a day.He was slightly abashed though.Clearly the generalization was at fault, she could do some things. Fair minded by nature, he was about to make up by asking what she could cook, when she got in first.
'Whats your favourite dish'?
Abhay, not having spent thousands of words already in talking of it to various people, had to pause for thought.'Probably dum aloo'
'With makki ki roti or alu paratha'?
This needed further thought. 'Makki ki roti' he said finally.
'Good' declared Naina, apparently satisfied.'alu paratha with alu would have been too obvious'.
Abhay was about to challenge this by saying there was nothing wrong with being obvious when it struck him that courtesy demanded the return question. And one never knew with girls, she probably wanted that discussed in the first place.
'Whats yours?'
'Between bhindi bhaji and fish curry'. The slight distaste emanating from Abhay was obvious. 'You must be very vegetarian' added Naina instantly.
'Yes', said Abhay, and forestalling the next remark, 'and i dont think i m missing anything'
Naina was surprised, 'I dont think so either!' and added, 'You know you should be a little less suspicious. i dont know who has, but everyone doesn't want to jump down your throat. Food is probably the last thing I 'd argue about..' here Abhay had his doubts, he d already argued more than he had in the last six months in one hour flat.
'one man's food another's poison etc..like i wouldnt dream of eating cabbage. its the one vegetable i cant stand' she announced.
'Atleast cabbages dont bleed' said Abhay caustically.
Naina looked repulsed. 'Thats gross! Nobody eats bleeding things, please!!'
'Are you under the impression that you eat meat without shedding blood? all you mean is you dont want to see it but you want the advantage of the end product' said Abhay dismissively.
'Now you re being nasty' said Naina clearly bothered by the declaration.
Abhay knew it but was too firm on his stand to be kinder.
There was a pause. 'Would you rather let tigers starve than let deer be killed'?
'No' agreed Abhay, 'but I dont think tigers have an option do they? And humans arent part of the natural balance'.
That was something Naina could jump on. 'They are', she said triumphantly..'but I know what you mean, its true we handle animals horribly..i guess when human rights are decided by money, you cant expect Animals to get a look in..'
Abhay said nothing.
'You know, in labs', continued Naina, 'even for experimental animals that are routinely 'sacrificed' to make antibodies for you and me ultimately, they have very strict handling protocols. You have to break the animal's neck cleanly in one stroke. Any playing around or longer times for it and you ll be in deep trouble..the point is that nobody has the right to inflict suffering'
'Well atleast thats good' said Abhay, in truce.
There was a pause.
'Would you know if there are any not too expensive Benarasi saree shops near here'? asked Naina, changing the topic. 'I want to get one for my mother'.
Abhay looked doubtful. 'I dont think cheap and Benarasi silk go together' he said.' The small lanes are your best bet, they have looms at home, so its genuine also'
Naina nodded.
'If you walk right down and turn left there is a big place you can get clothes from', he was being helpful
'Like what'?
'Oh, scarves and things like that', said Abhay vaguely.'Its next to a ladies cycle showroom'
'Oh can you rent?' this seemd an unexpected plus
'You can' said Abhay pointedly.
'You mean you havent tried?' cried Naina. These little lanes look lovely for cycing.
'Like I said, they only have girls cycles' repeated Abhay.
They stared at each other from a much farther distance. 'Are you telling me, that you haven't tried cycling here simply because you find it below your dignity to use a girls cycle' demanded Naina.
'Not below my dignity' protested Abhay. 'but yes, I wouldnt want to'.
Naina didnt know what to say. 'My brother uses mine all the time' she said finally.
'Thats different' said Abhay
'Ok, upto you of course' said Naina finally, searching for a non violent remark.' You know, you re nice, but you re very self..contained' she continued..'or maybe you just dont talk enough to girls'
Abhay didnt think so, but he kept peace with a 'maybe'.
'It sounds like you make your own rules and they cant be moved around'.
Abhay was stung at this..'Not at all, I m willing to be convinced otherwise'
'Yes, but only where it doesnt matter much anyway' said Naina with some penetration.
'Thats true for everyone' said Abhay
'Anyway i ve learnt quite a few things' she smiled. Then, clearing her throat, 'I think I should be leaving, its quite dark'. 'Nice meeting you' she added formally. It sounded forced to both of them and both laughed, spontaneously, breaking the strain.
Abhay looked around,'Who are you going with'?
Naina was surprised. 'I'm walking back, its hardly a couple of kilometres! Why, are there too many dogs?'
Abhay was speechless at this obviously innocent remark. Nobody, he was about to say, who has stayed in this city a week, could ask that question. In the first place, women didnt wander alone. And they most certainly weren't dressed in jeans. Not to mention that a sort of inbreeding had rendered this area particularly cut off from progress elsewhere. While this had its pluses, it certainly limited its view of the average confident city working woman.
'Not dogs, its not safe' he said.
'Why'? asked Naina, curious in turn. 'Oh you mean there are weird people'?
'Yes', said Abhay happy to put it that way. 'They dont expect nice people to be around alone at this time..'
'You mean nice girls' said Naina shrewdly, and then caught sight of a set of people on the bank and waved.
'Well thats ok, i ve found people'
'Do you have an email address'? asked Abhay. It turned out both did.
Ten minutes later, Abhay was still leaning on the rails. He had the curious breathless sensation of having lived at a hectic pace. Not an unpleasant sensation, though his preferred pace of life was rather calmer. He wondered if they d meet again.
Naina was rather quieter than usual on the walk back. She d had a very pleasant time and was wondering the same thing.
The moon had come up bright enough to light the road till its curving end. The boat with Abhay on it made a nice silhouette. Naina couldn't hide a self smile, thinking this was the time for the background music to begin. They walked on.
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
GenZ to GenA
'Its a wrap' said Shalini, twisting the cloth expertly in the light.
'How is it different from a stole'?? I asked a tad sulkily, having already been informed condescendingly by the shop girl that I didnt know what I was buying.
'A stole is..its hard to explain, its just different from a wrap..slimmer'.
'You dont know either'! I was triumphant.
'Of course I do..these are wraps and these two are stoles', she pointed.
As this was exactly what the shopgirl had said I had to admit there was something to this wrap instinct.
'Anyway, I like the colour and I'm buying it' I said with finality.
'Yes its neat' agreed the expert.
I bought it,but with a vague feeling of injustice at heart. I could call it whatever I liked couldn't I?? I was determined to regain my self respect. As i walked homewards later, I thought I'd drop by at a neighbour's house and meet my 10 year old friend and her sister. She loved red, to the point that nobody with half an eye could miss her a kilometre off. I pressed the bell in special code style..one short and two long..it was opened carefully. 'Wow didi you got a red wrap'!! I was stunned. 'Its a stole!' I muttered, but my spirit was broken by now. The wrap cum stole was being examined with much care. Thinking I might atleast show off there, I asked where Swati, the three year old, was. 'Oh she s talking on skype' said the girl carelessly, still caught up with the red whatever. Once recovered, I had better sense than to ask if she was typing words or talking..besides I was scared the answer would give me an inferiority complex for life..
I walked toward home idly looking at the stalls. 'GenX says we love scubadiving' screamed a headline at the magazine stall. How many people go scubadiving?? Or maybe they did..I had a sudden vision of hundreds of people all scubadiving in waterproof wraps while skype-chatting.I wondered about the choice of alphabet, GenX and GenY..I could only hope they'd rush by the GenZ and get back to GenA super quick so I could start feeling superior, for a change ('oh, you dont know how a cassette player works? let ME teach you..)
I was home by now and still wearing the red thing. My visiting granduncle looked up, 'Arre nice dupatta, where you got?' I beamed. 'Its not a dupatta', I explained kindly, 'Its a wrap'.
'How is it different from a stole'?? I asked a tad sulkily, having already been informed condescendingly by the shop girl that I didnt know what I was buying.
'A stole is..its hard to explain, its just different from a wrap..slimmer'.
'You dont know either'! I was triumphant.
'Of course I do..these are wraps and these two are stoles', she pointed.
As this was exactly what the shopgirl had said I had to admit there was something to this wrap instinct.
'Anyway, I like the colour and I'm buying it' I said with finality.
'Yes its neat' agreed the expert.
I bought it,but with a vague feeling of injustice at heart. I could call it whatever I liked couldn't I?? I was determined to regain my self respect. As i walked homewards later, I thought I'd drop by at a neighbour's house and meet my 10 year old friend and her sister. She loved red, to the point that nobody with half an eye could miss her a kilometre off. I pressed the bell in special code style..one short and two long..it was opened carefully. 'Wow didi you got a red wrap'!! I was stunned. 'Its a stole!' I muttered, but my spirit was broken by now. The wrap cum stole was being examined with much care. Thinking I might atleast show off there, I asked where Swati, the three year old, was. 'Oh she s talking on skype' said the girl carelessly, still caught up with the red whatever. Once recovered, I had better sense than to ask if she was typing words or talking..besides I was scared the answer would give me an inferiority complex for life..
I walked toward home idly looking at the stalls. 'GenX says we love scubadiving' screamed a headline at the magazine stall. How many people go scubadiving?? Or maybe they did..I had a sudden vision of hundreds of people all scubadiving in waterproof wraps while skype-chatting.I wondered about the choice of alphabet, GenX and GenY..I could only hope they'd rush by the GenZ and get back to GenA super quick so I could start feeling superior, for a change ('oh, you dont know how a cassette player works? let ME teach you..)
I was home by now and still wearing the red thing. My visiting granduncle looked up, 'Arre nice dupatta, where you got?' I beamed. 'Its not a dupatta', I explained kindly, 'Its a wrap'.
Sunday, October 10, 2010
staying 'connected'!
'whr r u' beeped on my lab neighbour Smita's screen. She stopped mid conversation, expertly typed out 'hvng cfee bk in 5' and continued talking smoothly, as if there was no interruption. Nor did her friend find it strange, she d have done the same, infact had, three times already in 10 minutes. Its so much a byproduct of our fast paced mobile-internet age that nobody finds it strange that you keep track of people minute to minute, irrespective of whether you re arranging a meeting or no (most of the time no, its 'timepass' :). But does this mean that we have closer, more genuine friendships and relationships than before? I doubt it.
I remember hearing of a distant aunt who was known for her great calm and general imperturbableness(to coin a word:). She stayed with her husband, and after he died, by herself, in a huge house. Both sons were away working in different cities. Her brother was a family friend independently, but lived in Delhi. Once my grandmother asked her when he d be visiting Bangalore. The aunt tilted her head and thought calmly..'I havent seen him the last two years, so this year he should be coming..' Such was life!! The way you guessed when you might see your near and dear ones was by judging how long they d not come!of course, this was said with no complaint or unrest, it was a simple statement of fact. I had asked naively if they d fought with each other. This provoked much hilarity. Apparently both were of such equable temperament that if anything people around would tear their hair out, a fight between them would have needed something ultra special..maybe hiding the chutney-pudi the brother was addicted to would do it..Besides which, i thought to myself, you cant fight if you meet once in three years..
But I thought there was something both old worldly and charming in this attitude, and something worth sharing. And after all not to say they weren't attached or so..it was just out of the question to travel that far routinely, and no news was considered good news! Quite a refreshing change from the sort of pace at which we operate today..
I tried imagining myself reporting an experiment- 'Sir it hasn't worked for one year, so it should by next April..'. Must try sometime..preferably with visa in hand :)
I remember hearing of a distant aunt who was known for her great calm and general imperturbableness(to coin a word:). She stayed with her husband, and after he died, by herself, in a huge house. Both sons were away working in different cities. Her brother was a family friend independently, but lived in Delhi. Once my grandmother asked her when he d be visiting Bangalore. The aunt tilted her head and thought calmly..'I havent seen him the last two years, so this year he should be coming..' Such was life!! The way you guessed when you might see your near and dear ones was by judging how long they d not come!of course, this was said with no complaint or unrest, it was a simple statement of fact. I had asked naively if they d fought with each other. This provoked much hilarity. Apparently both were of such equable temperament that if anything people around would tear their hair out, a fight between them would have needed something ultra special..maybe hiding the chutney-pudi the brother was addicted to would do it..Besides which, i thought to myself, you cant fight if you meet once in three years..
But I thought there was something both old worldly and charming in this attitude, and something worth sharing. And after all not to say they weren't attached or so..it was just out of the question to travel that far routinely, and no news was considered good news! Quite a refreshing change from the sort of pace at which we operate today..
I tried imagining myself reporting an experiment- 'Sir it hasn't worked for one year, so it should by next April..'. Must try sometime..preferably with visa in hand :)
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
Conversation
'Aarti'? 'Yaa..' came the answer, to the accompaniment of the squeak of the door shutting. A curly haired girl in her early twenties bounced into the room, with a strong air of suppressed excitement about her.Her mother looked up smiling-
'How was it?'
'Fab! it felt like we were back in college rightaway..anyway like Suma was saying the word 'reunion' somehow suggests we passed out in ancient times instead of two years ago, so this was more of a get together really. just that..'
'ok, first get some cardamom tea, i ve warmed it, its in the kitchen'
'How 'd you know i was coming like now?' asked Aarti astonished
'You mean coming now, what is 'like now'?!' said her mother sternly, possibly for the hundredth time..'I heard your laugh at the gate..who was it, by the way?'
'Oh, that!! Pasha!' said Aarti, smiling again in memory and completely ignoring the first part of her mother's sentence. 'Guess what Ma, he s getting married'!! Aarti was grinning ear to ear.
'What??' said her mother, taking off her reading glasses. Astonishment gave way to a smile of pure pleasure.'well well!..very nice, poor man he's had enough troubles..who is she?' Pasha's troubles were no secret. He'd battled a drunken older brother at home and much financial trouble, finally landing a job as a driver in a taxi company. For many years before that he d been garden-help and odd job man in various houses including theirs, instantly endearing himself by his resolutely cheerful personality and willingness to do almost any work. Also carrying an unquenched desire to be 'educated', Aarti's mother had taught him in the evenings for a while, and he was one of the few people she'd trust to pick up Aarti from her new job at night now.
'I don't know..someone who works at that Z brand place in this mall..he actually wanted me to go today for the Id dinner at his place but i told him i m meeting Deeps, she wants me to help her pick a mehndi dress..but'..continuing enthusiastically, 'he was so funny, I asked him why he s suddenly getting married, and you know what he said?! 'just like that'! as if anyone gets married just like that!!'
Her mother smiled..'Whats the girl's name?'
'I dont know' said Aarti,idly munching on a good day biscuit from the dabba, 'I'll ask tomorrow..of course he looked v happy, but i m sure he just wants someone to cook and dress up! you know how he keeps saying he s tired of cooking and nobody notices his ties!' It was certainly true that Pasha had a penchant for rather lurid ties, which was probably why people thought it more tactful not to comment on them.
'Aarti', said her mother in an unusually grave voice, causing Aarti to look around in surprise. 'Sit down for a moment..' Her mother folded her hands in what Aarti was fond of calling her 'lecturer pose'. 'Do you know, when I adopted you, one of the few people who wholeheartedly supported the idea was Pasha? And he must barely have been 18 at the time..Amma, as you know, was v supportive, but practically nobody else was. I cant tell you how grateful I was to Pasha for confidently telling me that yes of course it was stupid to marry for the heck of it and if i wanted you, I should just adopt and be happy my way, rather than suffer in conventionality..what i m trying to say is, he s probably the last person you should accuse of getting a wife because he wants a cook!'. Her voice was unusually stern.
Aarti was abashed but couldn't turn round that easily..'Obviously Ma, I like Pasha too you know that! Just that his answer was so funny! And its Pasha'! She couldn't help another smile, albeit affectionate, as if the fact of his being Pasha was sufficient to make the idea of his marrying funny.
'Just because some people can't clothe their feelings in flowery language doesn't make their emotions any less, Aarti..try remember that' said her mother.'Its important to distinguish between sophistication of speech and manner and sophistication of thought and feeling. In my mind, Pasha is more refined than several literary people I know. He has just as much right to be in love as your Shahrukh khan does on screen anyway, and he seems to exercise the right rather less often too..' she added caustically. Mums hated her favourite movie star, Aarti knew. She felt that was an unfair dig. All the more because the main point was beginning to make her uncomfortable..had she laughed on Pasha's face..? Worse, he was so tolerant it was impossible to tell if he minded!
'Umm..mayyybe' said Aarti.
Her mother had been a mother long enough to know when to stop. 'Ok go wash up, what s that awful stain on your sleeve? Panipuri again?'
'No, pickle' said Aarti..'But Ma..'
'What'?
'You think he ll feel better if I go to the dinner today'?
'Oh I don't think he d be feeling bad at all, he still thinks of you as a baby' smiled her mother
'Ok I'll go' said Aarti, instantly relieved of a growing sense of guilt. Her personality demanded immediate action, and tended anyway to vacillate between extremes of happiness and misery. 'And I 'll use the paycheck and get her something on the way'!
'What paycheck?' asked her mother
'Ooh! Didnt i tell you ?? They gave me an advance on my first salary today! I meant to surprise you', she was beaming.
'Wonderful'! said her mother, bestowing quite a queensize hug on her 6 inches taller daughter.
'Ya so now I ll get Pasha's fiance something. or maybe for the house..'
'Thats nice, but theres no need to spend it all, you can get yourself something for memory' said her mother, knowing Aarti was likely to spend it all and add more in an orgy of making amends. 'And take a jacket'!
But Aarti was already out of the house.
'How was it?'
'Fab! it felt like we were back in college rightaway..anyway like Suma was saying the word 'reunion' somehow suggests we passed out in ancient times instead of two years ago, so this was more of a get together really. just that..'
'ok, first get some cardamom tea, i ve warmed it, its in the kitchen'
'How 'd you know i was coming like now?' asked Aarti astonished
'You mean coming now, what is 'like now'?!' said her mother sternly, possibly for the hundredth time..'I heard your laugh at the gate..who was it, by the way?'
'Oh, that!! Pasha!' said Aarti, smiling again in memory and completely ignoring the first part of her mother's sentence. 'Guess what Ma, he s getting married'!! Aarti was grinning ear to ear.
'What??' said her mother, taking off her reading glasses. Astonishment gave way to a smile of pure pleasure.'well well!..very nice, poor man he's had enough troubles..who is she?' Pasha's troubles were no secret. He'd battled a drunken older brother at home and much financial trouble, finally landing a job as a driver in a taxi company. For many years before that he d been garden-help and odd job man in various houses including theirs, instantly endearing himself by his resolutely cheerful personality and willingness to do almost any work. Also carrying an unquenched desire to be 'educated', Aarti's mother had taught him in the evenings for a while, and he was one of the few people she'd trust to pick up Aarti from her new job at night now.
'I don't know..someone who works at that Z brand place in this mall..he actually wanted me to go today for the Id dinner at his place but i told him i m meeting Deeps, she wants me to help her pick a mehndi dress..but'..continuing enthusiastically, 'he was so funny, I asked him why he s suddenly getting married, and you know what he said?! 'just like that'! as if anyone gets married just like that!!'
Her mother smiled..'Whats the girl's name?'
'I dont know' said Aarti,idly munching on a good day biscuit from the dabba, 'I'll ask tomorrow..of course he looked v happy, but i m sure he just wants someone to cook and dress up! you know how he keeps saying he s tired of cooking and nobody notices his ties!' It was certainly true that Pasha had a penchant for rather lurid ties, which was probably why people thought it more tactful not to comment on them.
'Aarti', said her mother in an unusually grave voice, causing Aarti to look around in surprise. 'Sit down for a moment..' Her mother folded her hands in what Aarti was fond of calling her 'lecturer pose'. 'Do you know, when I adopted you, one of the few people who wholeheartedly supported the idea was Pasha? And he must barely have been 18 at the time..Amma, as you know, was v supportive, but practically nobody else was. I cant tell you how grateful I was to Pasha for confidently telling me that yes of course it was stupid to marry for the heck of it and if i wanted you, I should just adopt and be happy my way, rather than suffer in conventionality..what i m trying to say is, he s probably the last person you should accuse of getting a wife because he wants a cook!'. Her voice was unusually stern.
Aarti was abashed but couldn't turn round that easily..'Obviously Ma, I like Pasha too you know that! Just that his answer was so funny! And its Pasha'! She couldn't help another smile, albeit affectionate, as if the fact of his being Pasha was sufficient to make the idea of his marrying funny.
'Just because some people can't clothe their feelings in flowery language doesn't make their emotions any less, Aarti..try remember that' said her mother.'Its important to distinguish between sophistication of speech and manner and sophistication of thought and feeling. In my mind, Pasha is more refined than several literary people I know. He has just as much right to be in love as your Shahrukh khan does on screen anyway, and he seems to exercise the right rather less often too..' she added caustically. Mums hated her favourite movie star, Aarti knew. She felt that was an unfair dig. All the more because the main point was beginning to make her uncomfortable..had she laughed on Pasha's face..? Worse, he was so tolerant it was impossible to tell if he minded!
'Umm..mayyybe' said Aarti.
Her mother had been a mother long enough to know when to stop. 'Ok go wash up, what s that awful stain on your sleeve? Panipuri again?'
'No, pickle' said Aarti..'But Ma..'
'What'?
'You think he ll feel better if I go to the dinner today'?
'Oh I don't think he d be feeling bad at all, he still thinks of you as a baby' smiled her mother
'Ok I'll go' said Aarti, instantly relieved of a growing sense of guilt. Her personality demanded immediate action, and tended anyway to vacillate between extremes of happiness and misery. 'And I 'll use the paycheck and get her something on the way'!
'What paycheck?' asked her mother
'Ooh! Didnt i tell you ?? They gave me an advance on my first salary today! I meant to surprise you', she was beaming.
'Wonderful'! said her mother, bestowing quite a queensize hug on her 6 inches taller daughter.
'Ya so now I ll get Pasha's fiance something. or maybe for the house..'
'Thats nice, but theres no need to spend it all, you can get yourself something for memory' said her mother, knowing Aarti was likely to spend it all and add more in an orgy of making amends. 'And take a jacket'!
But Aarti was already out of the house.
Monday, August 2, 2010
The Pink Panther
Mira was bored. The train journey had been fun, with the discovery of an equally energetic seven year old in the next compartment. Together they had got up an impressive level of noise, drawing exasperated looks from even the mildest adults around. The ten hour free for all rampage had ended with prim goodbyes executed under motherly pressure, the formality instantly transforming them from gleeful conspirators to shy strangers again..Then there had been the long taxi drive from the railway station. That had been fun, too. She was allowed to sit up front on her fathers lap and gaze out, leading to the declaration that Bombay had many more lights than Bangalore at night.Though on that she had to unwillingly agree with amma, who pointed out that she was never up at this time when home to make the comparison.
They were in Bombay for a relative's wedding. The exact nature of the relation was hard to describe in one word. 'A complicated cousin' is what Mira had heard her mother say to a guest once, and had casually repeated it in her best adult voice, drawing much laughter and fawning. Half a day was spent in exuberant marching up and down the stairs declaring 'Namrata is my complicated cousin' in the loudest voice she could muster, but now the charm had worn off. Besides nobody was paying attention to her, at best vaguely patting her when they brushed past her in their scurryings.Once she d wandered into Namrata's room, definitely the most crowded, and someone had dragged her in asking which colour nail polish she'd like. Nail polish!! Her! Her outrage had been mistaken for shyness leading to many 'so cute's', until a violent wriggle had thankfully set her free. Mira no longer wanted to be a boy, as she had desperately wanted to a year ago, but nail polish was still too blatantly feminine to be acceptable.
Forced on by boredom to more wanderings around the house, Mira'd seen a room that seemed to be always locked. Well nourished on a diet of enid blytons, her first and excited thought had been that that must be the secret treasure room. Before her imagination could be more fired, however, someone had unlocked it in broad daylight, exposing a dusty room with piled vessels, books, a large limp stuffed pink panther and a walking stick. A pink panther!! For Mira, it was enchantment at first sight. She hadnt even known they made pink panther dolls !! If you could call something her own size a doll, that is. She looked at it with more respect, albeit from a wary distance. A slight movement displaced something in the cluttered room, causing the pink panther's hand to fall on her own, almost like a salute. And Mira's whole self was transformed into a desperate desire to own the pink panther. Years of life minus the pink panther stretched achingly before her, and she refused to admit the thought. Poor thing, he looked more of a grey panther right now, with all the dust settled on him. She put him back gently and tiptoed out of the room to look for Authority. Namrata's mother seemed a good option. She found her just putting the phone down. 'Auntywho'sispinkpanther'? came out in one eager breath. 'Go Play with someone else ma..' murmured aunty vaguely, patting her and walking away. Frustrated, Mira looked around. Nobody looked like they would care about poor pink panther, she doubted anyone d even notice if he disappeared. Heart beating fast, she walked right back to the room, picked him up and marched out. 'hey'! came a voice, 'Where did you find that doll'?. It was Namrata. 'Put it back, its my old toy..You can play with it in that room if you like'. Mira was suddenly transformed from a daring kidnapper to a 7 year old facing adult unreasonableness. She hugged the pink panther tighter as her eyes clouded over. 'Can I keep him in my room for 2 days? till the wedding'?
Namrata's attention was already distracted toward a beeping phone. With a hurried 'Ok be careful' she'd disappeared down the stairs. And Mira had walked on jubilantly, the tears having magically vanished, and started the marathon task of restoring pink panther to his earlier glory with a cloth and some ribbons..three days later Namrata's mother had let her take away the pink panther. 'Namrata was v attached to it as a child, its been gathering dust for years now,take it, no need to tell her' she'd said, smiling conspiratorially. Knowing her cousin's rather abrupt mood changes, Mira had kept him carefully away from her eyes until the wedding. Which wasnt hard anyway, considering pink panther was clearly not on her priority list right then.
Amazingly, pink panther had been well cared for not just for a few years but for all of twenty years after his usurpment. There was something about having a large soft benign panther in the room..he d been friend,confidante, pillow and punching bag all in one. Mira ruffled his tuft of dark brown hair affectionately, remembering the overwhelming pleasure of wanting something desperately and then, fairytale like, getting it.'Mira'!! came a voice from outside. Mira woke from her reverie and jumped up. An elaborately dressed girl stood at the door.'Hi heroine, are you trying to be fashionably late at your own wedding'?? asked the dolled up figure. 'You look like the bride yourself' said Mira admiringly, reaching for a plate in one hand and pink panther in the other. Before the other girl could voice her horror, 'Hold him' said Mira, 'I want him at the ceremony. And if anyone objects, tell them he's my goodluck charm'. The vision recovered her voice 'You're mad!!'..then relenting..'ok, i'll put him in the front row where you can see'..'but if Sheelu aunty asks..'..the voices faded away. Pink panther sat philosophically, smothered by Estee Lauder wafting towards him from one side and a chunky necklace poking him from the other. He seemed at peace with the world..
They were in Bombay for a relative's wedding. The exact nature of the relation was hard to describe in one word. 'A complicated cousin' is what Mira had heard her mother say to a guest once, and had casually repeated it in her best adult voice, drawing much laughter and fawning. Half a day was spent in exuberant marching up and down the stairs declaring 'Namrata is my complicated cousin' in the loudest voice she could muster, but now the charm had worn off. Besides nobody was paying attention to her, at best vaguely patting her when they brushed past her in their scurryings.Once she d wandered into Namrata's room, definitely the most crowded, and someone had dragged her in asking which colour nail polish she'd like. Nail polish!! Her! Her outrage had been mistaken for shyness leading to many 'so cute's', until a violent wriggle had thankfully set her free. Mira no longer wanted to be a boy, as she had desperately wanted to a year ago, but nail polish was still too blatantly feminine to be acceptable.
Forced on by boredom to more wanderings around the house, Mira'd seen a room that seemed to be always locked. Well nourished on a diet of enid blytons, her first and excited thought had been that that must be the secret treasure room. Before her imagination could be more fired, however, someone had unlocked it in broad daylight, exposing a dusty room with piled vessels, books, a large limp stuffed pink panther and a walking stick. A pink panther!! For Mira, it was enchantment at first sight. She hadnt even known they made pink panther dolls !! If you could call something her own size a doll, that is. She looked at it with more respect, albeit from a wary distance. A slight movement displaced something in the cluttered room, causing the pink panther's hand to fall on her own, almost like a salute. And Mira's whole self was transformed into a desperate desire to own the pink panther. Years of life minus the pink panther stretched achingly before her, and she refused to admit the thought. Poor thing, he looked more of a grey panther right now, with all the dust settled on him. She put him back gently and tiptoed out of the room to look for Authority. Namrata's mother seemed a good option. She found her just putting the phone down. 'Auntywho'sispinkpanther'? came out in one eager breath. 'Go Play with someone else ma..' murmured aunty vaguely, patting her and walking away. Frustrated, Mira looked around. Nobody looked like they would care about poor pink panther, she doubted anyone d even notice if he disappeared. Heart beating fast, she walked right back to the room, picked him up and marched out. 'hey'! came a voice, 'Where did you find that doll'?. It was Namrata. 'Put it back, its my old toy..You can play with it in that room if you like'. Mira was suddenly transformed from a daring kidnapper to a 7 year old facing adult unreasonableness. She hugged the pink panther tighter as her eyes clouded over. 'Can I keep him in my room for 2 days? till the wedding'?
Namrata's attention was already distracted toward a beeping phone. With a hurried 'Ok be careful' she'd disappeared down the stairs. And Mira had walked on jubilantly, the tears having magically vanished, and started the marathon task of restoring pink panther to his earlier glory with a cloth and some ribbons..three days later Namrata's mother had let her take away the pink panther. 'Namrata was v attached to it as a child, its been gathering dust for years now,take it, no need to tell her' she'd said, smiling conspiratorially. Knowing her cousin's rather abrupt mood changes, Mira had kept him carefully away from her eyes until the wedding. Which wasnt hard anyway, considering pink panther was clearly not on her priority list right then.
Amazingly, pink panther had been well cared for not just for a few years but for all of twenty years after his usurpment. There was something about having a large soft benign panther in the room..he d been friend,confidante, pillow and punching bag all in one. Mira ruffled his tuft of dark brown hair affectionately, remembering the overwhelming pleasure of wanting something desperately and then, fairytale like, getting it.'Mira'!! came a voice from outside. Mira woke from her reverie and jumped up. An elaborately dressed girl stood at the door.'Hi heroine, are you trying to be fashionably late at your own wedding'?? asked the dolled up figure. 'You look like the bride yourself' said Mira admiringly, reaching for a plate in one hand and pink panther in the other. Before the other girl could voice her horror, 'Hold him' said Mira, 'I want him at the ceremony. And if anyone objects, tell them he's my goodluck charm'. The vision recovered her voice 'You're mad!!'..then relenting..'ok, i'll put him in the front row where you can see'..'but if Sheelu aunty asks..'..the voices faded away. Pink panther sat philosophically, smothered by Estee Lauder wafting towards him from one side and a chunky necklace poking him from the other. He seemed at peace with the world..
Monday, July 19, 2010
Close encounter of the bangalore kind :)
Not being a frequent bus traveller, I had forgotten that there are still seats reserved for women. The elderly gentleman who got up to offer the seat was easily twice my age and more. Touched, I declined with much embarrassment. He beamed at me and gave me the Bangalore bus stop sweet smile. The ‘Lets exchange our deepest and most secret family details’ look. Not that old Bangalore had any conception of secret. None of these modern notions of privacy and reserve. The average bus stop companion would, at his height, tell you everything about himself including the house mortgage, his brother in law’s financial shenanigans and son’s trouble with maths, and be hurt and insulted if you didn’t trade in equally intimate sounding stories from your side. I was just thinking with a slight twinge of regret for lost colour that people don’t do that anymore, when the elderly gentleman coughed.
EG: You are working or studying?
Me: Studying..(expectant look)..doing a PhD in Molecular Biology..(I had learnt to tag on the ‘molecular’ after a couple of chidings from my mother-‘Why cant you say it when thats what you re doing? Always inhibited!’ and in response to my protest that there was no need to sound unnecessarily fancy, ‘Thats what I mean’! ).
EG (beaming): Verry good! How many years course it is?
Me: Its meant to be 5, but varies..because its hard to define how much is enough, and depends on your professor also
EG (sympathetic and surprised): From 5 years you are doing high energy work??
Me (lost): No, I don’t do any high energy work. And its not been 5 yet..but Why..?
EG: Thats the fashion no? Like that I read in newspaper!
Me: umm..not in biology i think..
EG (not paying attention): you are a nice girl, you listen me, how much they pay you??
Me (getting more and more lost): What?
EG (dismissively): Anyway wont be much. All the money in this city goes to these software engineers (our bus stopped in some eternal small jam) see! This also is because of them only! I have told my son, you study and gain knowledge, no working in a software company!
Me (impressed): thats nice, I m sure not too many people take that attitude!
EG (confidentially): Thats why I am asking you, Saturday Sunday 11 to 1! Or 4 to 6 is also ok. We re not rich people, but we want our son to do a phd. His grandfathers dream..he again beamed, possibly from memory.
Me: Thats very nice, but what do you want me to do??
EG (a little exasperated at my denseness): Come and take physics tutions! You are nice girl and You are doctor of physics no?? My son is very bad at physics (shook his head)..how much we are telling him study properly, always playing cricket, football, like this only!
Me (enlightened) : Oh! No I m very sorry but I m studying Biology like I said.. (and maybe the poor boy should be allowed to play)
EG (pushing aside an irrelevant detail): So what , PhD means you re becoming doctor of physics finally no??
Me ( now figuring the new full form of PhD): Ah. Unfortunately no, thats Doctor of philosophy! But i m sure your son will be fine sir, let him enjoy his school days (who knows, might help the poor guy!)..
And i added a v kannada line ‘aamele idde ide’ loosely meaning later anyway he has to face things. The line registered atleast. He sighed.
Then, cheering up, ‘So you study philosophy’??
That was around when my stop came, so I couldn’t figure out who needed philosophy tuitions but it was a nice touch of old Bangalore after quite a while!:))
EG: You are working or studying?
Me: Studying..(expectant look)..doing a PhD in Molecular Biology..(I had learnt to tag on the ‘molecular’ after a couple of chidings from my mother-‘Why cant you say it when thats what you re doing? Always inhibited!’ and in response to my protest that there was no need to sound unnecessarily fancy, ‘Thats what I mean’! ).
EG (beaming): Verry good! How many years course it is?
Me: Its meant to be 5, but varies..because its hard to define how much is enough, and depends on your professor also
EG (sympathetic and surprised): From 5 years you are doing high energy work??
Me (lost): No, I don’t do any high energy work. And its not been 5 yet..but Why..?
EG: Thats the fashion no? Like that I read in newspaper!
Me: umm..not in biology i think..
EG (not paying attention): you are a nice girl, you listen me, how much they pay you??
Me (getting more and more lost): What?
EG (dismissively): Anyway wont be much. All the money in this city goes to these software engineers (our bus stopped in some eternal small jam) see! This also is because of them only! I have told my son, you study and gain knowledge, no working in a software company!
Me (impressed): thats nice, I m sure not too many people take that attitude!
EG (confidentially): Thats why I am asking you, Saturday Sunday 11 to 1! Or 4 to 6 is also ok. We re not rich people, but we want our son to do a phd. His grandfathers dream..he again beamed, possibly from memory.
Me: Thats very nice, but what do you want me to do??
EG (a little exasperated at my denseness): Come and take physics tutions! You are nice girl and You are doctor of physics no?? My son is very bad at physics (shook his head)..how much we are telling him study properly, always playing cricket, football, like this only!
Me (enlightened) : Oh! No I m very sorry but I m studying Biology like I said.. (and maybe the poor boy should be allowed to play)
EG (pushing aside an irrelevant detail): So what , PhD means you re becoming doctor of physics finally no??
Me ( now figuring the new full form of PhD): Ah. Unfortunately no, thats Doctor of philosophy! But i m sure your son will be fine sir, let him enjoy his school days (who knows, might help the poor guy!)..
And i added a v kannada line ‘aamele idde ide’ loosely meaning later anyway he has to face things. The line registered atleast. He sighed.
Then, cheering up, ‘So you study philosophy’??
That was around when my stop came, so I couldn’t figure out who needed philosophy tuitions but it was a nice touch of old Bangalore after quite a while!:))
Thursday, February 4, 2010
Janaki miss- a tribute
'Janaki miss' as we called her, taught Carnatic vocal music in her tiny house at the end of an even tinier gully. Some of the richer students frequently drove right up to the house with a flourish, only to realise that there was a price to pay, it was practically impossible to reverse. Most of us walked up, and we could hear the strains of a very loud and lusty sa re ga ma from the very junior batches floating down two roads atleast. Janaki miss was a very warm and fiery person, when you first joined you'd be minorly bullied, but with time all of us settled into various levels of comfort with her. I was particularly fond of her, and she of me, so that we often spent the post class times with her talking about various people none of whom i knew, but would nod vigorously if asked 'and then this happened with- you know so and so?' with a glare. This, knowing that a no would lead to an impossibly complicated explanation of who is connected how to who and i'd get even more mixed up! Bangalore is still provincial in many ways, and within the same areas it is routine for older people to assume that everyone knows everyone else, meaning their family scandals and peculiarities inclusive :)
It was an uphill task for a single woman in the sixties with a clear talent in music to realise that she had to earn her living by it, assuming she wanted to live. Though to me it seemed unforgivable for any family to put a daughter or sister in that position, she was very matter of fact about it after all these years. Music was her passion, and perhaps to overcome the loneliness her days were crowded from 7 am to 7 pm with classes, and many of her students would also bring in supplies, stay to chat and of course, update her on the latest neighbourhood gossip :) She had strong and clear opinions on things- the etv newsreader was good, the dd one hopeless (never trust a man who smiles so much), the temple in front of the gully was good, the new student was good but her parents interfered too much, whereas the older lady who'd just joined would never get a grasp on swaras but was very keen nonetheless. but then what can you expect from a shetty? they just had too much money, so their parents make them feel they can buy everything. This blatant generalisation no doubt born of her generation was completely in contrast to her attitude in taking students though. anyone interested was welcome, she had no dresscode, jeans, salwar kameez, skitrs, upto you. all she wanted was a genuine interest and some progress to show for it. The mad hour to hour scheduling of course meant a compromise on time per head and therefore on quality, but people were welcome to come by later if free and just hang around and learn things. She certainly had a sense of humour, and some funny incident would get her smiling ear to ear and cutting the vegetables with that much more gusto, while they were serenaded by mohana or kalyani! an off tune even in a crowd would be instantly caught by her sharp ears and lead to much knife waving causing those nearest to back off nervously..
Infact her lesons were as much fun for th music as for the various diversions. Often she'd get up mid piece and still singing and giving the beat, walk out of the front door picking up something behind the door. Then suddenly the singing would give way to angry abuse. This was the cue for us older students to grin and look at the new ones, who'd be open mouthed and clueless. Until they, like us, realised that this was directed at her lifelong foe, a huge spotted cow that always diabolically waited till she was well in her stride and then hoping to get away with it, ambled up to chew on the soppu immediately outside her door. a vain hope, of course. The cardinal sin was if we stopped singing. She'd pop her head back in and glare ferociously 'Who asked you to stop'?? and of course everyone nervously started immediately, except not all at the same place..
The students who pleased her best were those who made the effort to ask the right questions and got the thala right. Poor thing, she did suffer from a number of older students (usually fond mothers and aunts) who just could not get the concept of rhythm, and insisted on substituting adithala for rupaka and occasionally something in between completely randomly, all the while cheerfully pausing midpiece, wiping their faces, making coments like 'so hot no?' and enthusiastically proceeding. On such days the tanpura was abandoned, and she'd glumly sit in a corner waiting for them to finish and then switch on etv. I suppose the newsreader read in rhythm, atleast.
She was a huge source of support and love to us all though, certainly to me. the last thing i remember before I had to leave and she fell too sick to teach, was her making me promise i'd 'keep studying well and do something big'. not, she hastened to add, 'just like all these people, making money and having no happiness ' but something out of the ordinary..She remained fiercely independent when a sudden cancer forced her to slow down. She hated not being able to get her own vegetables, but was gradually reconciled to it with a very nice young girl staying with her. Her students were sufficient and sufficiently fond of her to keep visiting, and when we do meet now once in a blue moon, the talk automatically shifts to her and makes us all smile in warm remembrance.
It was an uphill task for a single woman in the sixties with a clear talent in music to realise that she had to earn her living by it, assuming she wanted to live. Though to me it seemed unforgivable for any family to put a daughter or sister in that position, she was very matter of fact about it after all these years. Music was her passion, and perhaps to overcome the loneliness her days were crowded from 7 am to 7 pm with classes, and many of her students would also bring in supplies, stay to chat and of course, update her on the latest neighbourhood gossip :) She had strong and clear opinions on things- the etv newsreader was good, the dd one hopeless (never trust a man who smiles so much), the temple in front of the gully was good, the new student was good but her parents interfered too much, whereas the older lady who'd just joined would never get a grasp on swaras but was very keen nonetheless. but then what can you expect from a shetty? they just had too much money, so their parents make them feel they can buy everything. This blatant generalisation no doubt born of her generation was completely in contrast to her attitude in taking students though. anyone interested was welcome, she had no dresscode, jeans, salwar kameez, skitrs, upto you. all she wanted was a genuine interest and some progress to show for it. The mad hour to hour scheduling of course meant a compromise on time per head and therefore on quality, but people were welcome to come by later if free and just hang around and learn things. She certainly had a sense of humour, and some funny incident would get her smiling ear to ear and cutting the vegetables with that much more gusto, while they were serenaded by mohana or kalyani! an off tune even in a crowd would be instantly caught by her sharp ears and lead to much knife waving causing those nearest to back off nervously..
Infact her lesons were as much fun for th music as for the various diversions. Often she'd get up mid piece and still singing and giving the beat, walk out of the front door picking up something behind the door. Then suddenly the singing would give way to angry abuse. This was the cue for us older students to grin and look at the new ones, who'd be open mouthed and clueless. Until they, like us, realised that this was directed at her lifelong foe, a huge spotted cow that always diabolically waited till she was well in her stride and then hoping to get away with it, ambled up to chew on the soppu immediately outside her door. a vain hope, of course. The cardinal sin was if we stopped singing. She'd pop her head back in and glare ferociously 'Who asked you to stop'?? and of course everyone nervously started immediately, except not all at the same place..
The students who pleased her best were those who made the effort to ask the right questions and got the thala right. Poor thing, she did suffer from a number of older students (usually fond mothers and aunts) who just could not get the concept of rhythm, and insisted on substituting adithala for rupaka and occasionally something in between completely randomly, all the while cheerfully pausing midpiece, wiping their faces, making coments like 'so hot no?' and enthusiastically proceeding. On such days the tanpura was abandoned, and she'd glumly sit in a corner waiting for them to finish and then switch on etv. I suppose the newsreader read in rhythm, atleast.
She was a huge source of support and love to us all though, certainly to me. the last thing i remember before I had to leave and she fell too sick to teach, was her making me promise i'd 'keep studying well and do something big'. not, she hastened to add, 'just like all these people, making money and having no happiness ' but something out of the ordinary..She remained fiercely independent when a sudden cancer forced her to slow down. She hated not being able to get her own vegetables, but was gradually reconciled to it with a very nice young girl staying with her. Her students were sufficient and sufficiently fond of her to keep visiting, and when we do meet now once in a blue moon, the talk automatically shifts to her and makes us all smile in warm remembrance.
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