Lately, the only thing that has kept me ticking is my rediscovered passion for reading.
I make a rather slow reader and quite an inconsistent one to add to the misery, but I can get as animated, as downcast, as appreciative and as critical of a book as my other serious counterparts. Books have impacted my life more than the events and I take a certain amount of pride in this fact. I also take full cognizance of the fact that more than the books, Its a set of writers whom I am offering this most preserved right over the principles of my life. I am ripping open my cerebrum before a person and allowing him to play with it. I am consciously opening it to the extent that future course of my life would depend on it. I am willingly putting my Right to Independent thinking up for grabs and it only makes me happier when somebody actually grabs it.
I have welcomed Rands and Orwells with Open arms, spent the lonely moon-staring nights with Ghalibs and Gulzars and after leaving many poorly paved roads half-walked, 've recently finished measuring the lanes of Maximum city Mumbai with Suketu Mehta. A good book can make me recognize a multitude of emotions I never knew existed. It can really exhort me sometimes.
Want to end this on a better note but in the absence of thoughts I will be content with just this one...Here's to the writers. :-)
Friday, April 27, 2007
Friday, April 6, 2007
't was nice meeting you
Wouldn't call it a hobby but a pastime, for sure. I like to interview AUTOWALLAHS. A class that leads a very monotonous and low paying life with income-rises barely tantamount to inflation and keep doing the same thing almost all their lives, In financial terms; the lower class people. There can be a discussion on if they are really Lower class or a bit better than that, but I would give it a pass for now.
I talk to them in different cities, different places of the same city, different times of the day and different states they are in; inebriated with country liquor, doped on grass, dozing in the noontime, waiting to go home at the late hours of the night or fresh out of the temple in the wee hours of a sunday morning. I watch them doing different things; throwing invectives at local policewallahs, cursing the errant bikers, talking about their supposed glorious past, worrying about their son's future, making lewd comments on girls, brazenly rolling the Red signals, surprising me with a deep civic sense and their take on good citizenship, pestering me with Half-return fare, talking to their clients in english on a mobile phone costlier than mine, handing me over their visiting card and what not. Believe me, its really interesting. Its a completely different world than you and I live in.
Yesterday, I was on Ghole Road, on my way to Aundh. I wave the Auto-Rickshaw, the guy sees me, flashes the left turn indicator and carefully changing the imaginary lanes, he comes to me and stops.
'Kahan jaayenge sir'.
'Aundh', I tell him, anticipating a call for half return fare because Aundh is on outskirts of the city.
But he simply downs his meter, politely asks me to get in and heads off without bothering me with that. I am pleasantly surprised.
Its a long journey and I am in a mood to talk.
'Pune se hi ho ya bahar se ho?' is always my first question.
'Sir, Pune se hi hoon', he answers with a natural marathi accent.
'Kitne time se auto chala rahe ho kaka', I add the salutation kaka just to make him feel comfortable and connected. This would have been tau in Muzaffarnagar, bhaiya in delhi and boss in Mumbai.
'Sir, 16 saal se' he pauses and..... 'Sir, kyun puchha aapne?' he asks, with a questioning yet smiling face, looking at me in rear view mirror.
'Aise hi puchh liya kaka, socha ki aapse baat ki jaaye'
He looks at me again, passes a comforting smile, nods and says, 'Achha hai sir, baat karna achha hai'
Then he tells me that most of his customers ask this question because they are happy with his driving skills and they want to know how come he drives so well. Its only then that I notice him steering his way across Puneri traffic with a masterful hand.
'Haan kaka, kaafi achha chalate ho aap'
His face lights up, he feels proud of himself and says, ' Haan sir, poore 16 saal ho gaye, main baaki autowalon se bahut achha chala leta hun'. I look at him. There is no sign of Boasting off, its a proud and fair acknowledgment of my compliment.
He then continues telling me that he had worked as a machinist for various companies. Tata Motors, Bajaj Auto, DGP hinoday and a many more. He tells me about how he was hired on a contract basis and was let go after a brief job stint every time. Then he changed jobs and finally became an Autowallah to become stable in life. Its very evident from his tone and accent that he is an educated man. I was really enjoying this session.
Then I throw another question about the Gunda Problem in the city. Do the goons trouble him with the menace called Hafta or do the policewallahs extort any money from him? I am happy to know that Pune is completely devoid of this problem. I have established this fact after talking to many Autowallahs. Pune is a real safe city in this way. What they earn belongs to none else. This is very different from Mumbai and Delhi where Gundas and Policewallahs constantly eat up part of their earnings.
Talking to him further on Pune traffic problems, how Pune was 16 years ago, the huge inflow of immigrants I finally reach my destination. I pay him, leave the rickshaw and start walking away.
He calls me...SIR...!!
I look back, go to him and ask What it was...?
He extends his hand and says 'Sir, achha laga aapse milkar'
A deep sense of professionalism, conviction, imbued in calm and layered with a natural reassurance, thats how he delivered this sentence. We get to hear this almost every other day. How-You-doing and Nice-Meeting-You are the most common greetings and parting words. But rarely does somebody utters them with that gleam in eyes and that natural eye contact.
This was doubtlessly the most Honest Nice-Meeting-You I was ever said to.
I talk to them in different cities, different places of the same city, different times of the day and different states they are in; inebriated with country liquor, doped on grass, dozing in the noontime, waiting to go home at the late hours of the night or fresh out of the temple in the wee hours of a sunday morning. I watch them doing different things; throwing invectives at local policewallahs, cursing the errant bikers, talking about their supposed glorious past, worrying about their son's future, making lewd comments on girls, brazenly rolling the Red signals, surprising me with a deep civic sense and their take on good citizenship, pestering me with Half-return fare, talking to their clients in english on a mobile phone costlier than mine, handing me over their visiting card and what not. Believe me, its really interesting. Its a completely different world than you and I live in.
Yesterday, I was on Ghole Road, on my way to Aundh. I wave the Auto-Rickshaw, the guy sees me, flashes the left turn indicator and carefully changing the imaginary lanes, he comes to me and stops.
'Kahan jaayenge sir'.
'Aundh', I tell him, anticipating a call for half return fare because Aundh is on outskirts of the city.
But he simply downs his meter, politely asks me to get in and heads off without bothering me with that. I am pleasantly surprised.
Its a long journey and I am in a mood to talk.
'Pune se hi ho ya bahar se ho?' is always my first question.
'Sir, Pune se hi hoon', he answers with a natural marathi accent.
'Kitne time se auto chala rahe ho kaka', I add the salutation kaka just to make him feel comfortable and connected. This would have been tau in Muzaffarnagar, bhaiya in delhi and boss in Mumbai.
'Sir, 16 saal se' he pauses and..... 'Sir, kyun puchha aapne?' he asks, with a questioning yet smiling face, looking at me in rear view mirror.
'Aise hi puchh liya kaka, socha ki aapse baat ki jaaye'
He looks at me again, passes a comforting smile, nods and says, 'Achha hai sir, baat karna achha hai'
Then he tells me that most of his customers ask this question because they are happy with his driving skills and they want to know how come he drives so well. Its only then that I notice him steering his way across Puneri traffic with a masterful hand.
'Haan kaka, kaafi achha chalate ho aap'
His face lights up, he feels proud of himself and says, ' Haan sir, poore 16 saal ho gaye, main baaki autowalon se bahut achha chala leta hun'. I look at him. There is no sign of Boasting off, its a proud and fair acknowledgment of my compliment.
He then continues telling me that he had worked as a machinist for various companies. Tata Motors, Bajaj Auto, DGP hinoday and a many more. He tells me about how he was hired on a contract basis and was let go after a brief job stint every time. Then he changed jobs and finally became an Autowallah to become stable in life. Its very evident from his tone and accent that he is an educated man. I was really enjoying this session.
Then I throw another question about the Gunda Problem in the city. Do the goons trouble him with the menace called Hafta or do the policewallahs extort any money from him? I am happy to know that Pune is completely devoid of this problem. I have established this fact after talking to many Autowallahs. Pune is a real safe city in this way. What they earn belongs to none else. This is very different from Mumbai and Delhi where Gundas and Policewallahs constantly eat up part of their earnings.
Talking to him further on Pune traffic problems, how Pune was 16 years ago, the huge inflow of immigrants I finally reach my destination. I pay him, leave the rickshaw and start walking away.
He calls me...SIR...!!
I look back, go to him and ask What it was...?
He extends his hand and says 'Sir, achha laga aapse milkar'
A deep sense of professionalism, conviction, imbued in calm and layered with a natural reassurance, thats how he delivered this sentence. We get to hear this almost every other day. How-You-doing and Nice-Meeting-You are the most common greetings and parting words. But rarely does somebody utters them with that gleam in eyes and that natural eye contact.
This was doubtlessly the most Honest Nice-Meeting-You I was ever said to.
Friday, March 23, 2007
The music of Infinite thumps
Mornings in Pune are always beautiful but I would rather let others decide that and accept that without questions. Nevertheless, I force myself to wake up early on weekends since that is the only time of the week I can play tennis. So, no matter how much I hate to admit, I can say I have witnessed many Pune Mornings. This time it was for a Biking trip to Panchganni-Mahabaleshwar.
It was not that difficult after all for me to get up at 6. My friend Bhanu was, however, not that kind on me and I almost had to drag him out of the bed. Third one, Banku was expectedly wide awake when I called him. So, after a double dose of Chai-Poha under the Warje flyover, we managed to hit the roads by 7:30.
I was mildly enjoying the Birdie-ride for first few kilometers. Speedometer needle occasionally crossing 80, a relaxed traffic on Pune Bangalore highway, a soothing breeze making inroads to hit my face from under the Halmet wisor, thoughts following the sight or sometimes the other way round, I was trying to live those unique biking moments. Riding a two wheeler on highways is a bliss and when the highway is Pune-bangalore and the bike is a Royal Enfield Thunderbird, you don't ask for more. You savor it. Wouldn't call myself an experienced biker on Highways, might have clocked barely 500 kilometers or so but what does it take to hit the highway anyway. I guess, just do it.
Gradually, the momentum was rising and so was the adrenalin. Roads were getting better and wider, the view around was becoming more and more eyecatching and then we entered a marvelous tunnel. A few Kilometers ahead of Katraj probably.
Nothing feels like speeding the bike beyond 100 kmph in a 3 kilometer long 6 lane tunnel which is well lit from inside and is just Huge. Absolute power of a 350 cc engine cranking beneath you, roaring aloud and producing a music you dont just stand and listen, you gotta own it, ride it and then dance to it. Ripping through the envelop of cool, soothing Puneri wind of early march, a full throttle thunderbird engine and its echoing thumps all around in the tunnel and believe me, you can count every one of these thumps. Ask me, how many they were.....?? I have counted till infinite...!!
Mountains, roads and the mighty bumps
All bask in the music of Infinite thumps...
Wednesday, February 7, 2007
on 'Notes to Myself' - 1
I am good at adopting bad habits and better at sticking to them. Failure to quit them pinches me as much as the adoption comforts, but at the end, I am just unable to quit.
I like a book. I resolutely pick it up to read from cover to cover. I carry it on my way to office. I read a few pages. I like it. I admire it. I discuss it. I lose interest. I quit it. I pick up the next book.
My recent pickings that have seen the same fate were 'Freakonomics', 'Fortune at the bottom of the pyramid', 'The Feudal
Spirit' and probably one more which I did not read enough even to remember the title. Pick of this week was 'Notes to Myself'. I bought it long back, probably read a few pages too but lately it had been seeing the dust on my bookshelf. I dont know what prompted me to pick it up that morning, probably its small size or was it the fact that I had liked it when I first
skimmed through it. In any case, its first few lines were enough to make me realize that It will not waste my time.
Skipping the first few pages, let me write what is on a later page.
"I want to be doing things to be doing them. Not to be doing something else. I dont want to drive to get there, I dont want to make love to have climaxes, or study to keep abreast. I dont want to do things to sell myself on myself. I dont want to do nice things to people to be nice. I dont want to work to make money. I want to work to work.
Today, I dont want to live for. I want to live."
I was a bit sleepy when I opened this page but as I progressed, each line started snapping another layer of drowsiness and by the time I was finished reading the last word, I was already transported to a comforting stage of deep thoughts. I was excited.
I was trying to put together some of the daily activities and classify them as being for-something-activities and just-activities. I listen to 'Tere Bina' from GURU at least 10 times a day and there is no for-something feeling to it. Neither relaxation, nor admiration or escape from office-boredom. I do listen to it to listen to it and do not seek anything. May be there are a few more activities, I can enlist. Biking, sipping evening tea on my terrace, weekend work outs at tennis court etc.
On the other hand, there are those for-something activities. I work and I do not work to work. There are some other aims to it. Money is one of them and I cannot filter it off. I do study and once again I do not study to study. There are reasons and they will exist.
Well, there is a chain of events or a series of stages that some activities go through. It starts from 'excitement', moves to 'purpose', graduates to 'passion' and if it hadn't assumed the downward slope yet, it is transformed into 'do-it-to-do-it' stage. All of us have different things in this stage and probably that is why different things pleasure us.
Going a step ahead, I try to look into those for-something activities, or the 'purpose' stage of all the activities. Dont they impart a different pleasure altogether? Well, driving to get there is interesting....working for money is not that bad....you are always in an unsaid race....against somebody else or against yourself. The uncertainity involved does impart a new life, it enriches and exhorts you. Racing ahead of others or yourself does give a satisfaction which is absent at the last stage as mentioend earlier. So be it.
I might see a day when I will live and will not live for. I am not sure how will I react to it, but today, I do not look for it. I am happy to do things for something else and it does not involve selling myself on myself.
Still, stumbling against the book was not fruitless. It invoked a good analysis. I could name and channelize a lot of unnamed thoughts.
I like a book. I resolutely pick it up to read from cover to cover. I carry it on my way to office. I read a few pages. I like it. I admire it. I discuss it. I lose interest. I quit it. I pick up the next book.
My recent pickings that have seen the same fate were 'Freakonomics', 'Fortune at the bottom of the pyramid', 'The Feudal
Spirit' and probably one more which I did not read enough even to remember the title. Pick of this week was 'Notes to Myself'. I bought it long back, probably read a few pages too but lately it had been seeing the dust on my bookshelf. I dont know what prompted me to pick it up that morning, probably its small size or was it the fact that I had liked it when I first
skimmed through it. In any case, its first few lines were enough to make me realize that It will not waste my time.
Skipping the first few pages, let me write what is on a later page.
"I want to be doing things to be doing them. Not to be doing something else. I dont want to drive to get there, I dont want to make love to have climaxes, or study to keep abreast. I dont want to do things to sell myself on myself. I dont want to do nice things to people to be nice. I dont want to work to make money. I want to work to work.
Today, I dont want to live for. I want to live."
I was a bit sleepy when I opened this page but as I progressed, each line started snapping another layer of drowsiness and by the time I was finished reading the last word, I was already transported to a comforting stage of deep thoughts. I was excited.
I was trying to put together some of the daily activities and classify them as being for-something-activities and just-activities. I listen to 'Tere Bina' from GURU at least 10 times a day and there is no for-something feeling to it. Neither relaxation, nor admiration or escape from office-boredom. I do listen to it to listen to it and do not seek anything. May be there are a few more activities, I can enlist. Biking, sipping evening tea on my terrace, weekend work outs at tennis court etc.
On the other hand, there are those for-something activities. I work and I do not work to work. There are some other aims to it. Money is one of them and I cannot filter it off. I do study and once again I do not study to study. There are reasons and they will exist.
Well, there is a chain of events or a series of stages that some activities go through. It starts from 'excitement', moves to 'purpose', graduates to 'passion' and if it hadn't assumed the downward slope yet, it is transformed into 'do-it-to-do-it' stage. All of us have different things in this stage and probably that is why different things pleasure us.
Going a step ahead, I try to look into those for-something activities, or the 'purpose' stage of all the activities. Dont they impart a different pleasure altogether? Well, driving to get there is interesting....working for money is not that bad....you are always in an unsaid race....against somebody else or against yourself. The uncertainity involved does impart a new life, it enriches and exhorts you. Racing ahead of others or yourself does give a satisfaction which is absent at the last stage as mentioend earlier. So be it.
I might see a day when I will live and will not live for. I am not sure how will I react to it, but today, I do not look for it. I am happy to do things for something else and it does not involve selling myself on myself.
Still, stumbling against the book was not fruitless. It invoked a good analysis. I could name and channelize a lot of unnamed thoughts.
Saturday, January 27, 2007
An evening at Tendulkar's
Good food is something that drives me to unstinted pangs of admiration and somehow throws me into declaring my last meal the 'best one'. However, lately I have grown a bit more matured and try to put it as 'among the best ones'. I have been ridiculed for being too easy on chefs but never mind. I love good food. It gives me a pleasure which nothing else can match.
There is another dimension to it. I dont care about the details when it is home cooked but I can get really irritated if a careless waiter makes an extra clink while serving me. A mistake in the order or a delay in the order could easily put me off. A mindless and unappealing ambience or mere setting of the tables can make me go judgemental, disobeying my easy-to-please tongue.
So, despite the first para being true, its not too easy to make me declare a dinner 'The Perfect one'. But, one such dinner, after a long time, came my way on the night of 26th Jan. The date and city combination (26th jan + Mumbai), somehow never leaves my memory. A hugely entertaining day was spent precisely 6 years ago. I will describe that some other time if I feel like.
Oh, I was talking about the dinner. After a mildly enjoyable day at water kingdom and an immensely destressing walk at marine drive, we three started planning to call it a day and pushing off back to Pune. A dinner, however was still pending and we had to think about a place that could complement a lovely day. TENDULKAR's popped up in my friend's mind and I rejected it on the basis of bad name that had been given to it so far. Still, we started towards colaba. Walking past beautifully decorated MANTRALAYA and admiring the cool breeze, we finally reached in front of Tendulkar's. Klay Oven was adjacent to it and we were divided on where to go. I had heard Chicago Klay Oven was good but somehow, had never been there. Well, finally, we decided against Klay Oven and entered Tendulkar's. Menu was at display on a rather small lectern at the entrance and I was delighted to find some Indian Vegetarian delicacies there in. I liked the shady blue lighting in the alley that leads to staircase. Climbed a couple flights and entered the main hall. Greeted by a rather non-descript girl, clad in red who turned out to smart enough to make an impression.
We were exhausted from a hectic day and were still trying to ease ourselves into the soothing environs. Started looking around and found everything just perfect. Everything, off course, had to be colored in Sachin hue but of many other theme restaurants, this one was really eye-catching. From the stumps shaped salt-pepper dispenser to thick glass walled sink in the washroom, from Tendulkar autographed everything to beautiful cutlery, I was liking everything. Waiters were smartly dressed as well as smart tongued. My close observation failed to notice any mistake and it definitely made me happy. Best part of the dinner came at first. I just cant hold and do not want to hold any appreciation here. It was undoubtedly 'among the best non-alcoholic drinks I have ever had'. Base was coconut water, flavor was lychee and wow was the word. The splendid start was followed by baby cheese naans and mushroom wantons. These are the little things that separate classy restaurants from run of the mill ones. How can you make a mere naan as starter, and make it tasty on top of it. Just give a tang of cheese, make it appropriately warm and serve it in a suave manner. You are done. Same was the case with wantons.
For main course, we ordered things as simple as daal makhni and bhindi masaala and found that our servers did the best they could do. Best you can do with these things is to put the precise amount of spices and thats how it was done. Well, still, I have to say that 'innovation' was missing but they had already done a lot better to excuse themselves of complacence.
we were short on time and could not try any desserts......may be next time.
There is another dimension to it. I dont care about the details when it is home cooked but I can get really irritated if a careless waiter makes an extra clink while serving me. A mistake in the order or a delay in the order could easily put me off. A mindless and unappealing ambience or mere setting of the tables can make me go judgemental, disobeying my easy-to-please tongue.
So, despite the first para being true, its not too easy to make me declare a dinner 'The Perfect one'. But, one such dinner, after a long time, came my way on the night of 26th Jan. The date and city combination (26th jan + Mumbai), somehow never leaves my memory. A hugely entertaining day was spent precisely 6 years ago. I will describe that some other time if I feel like.
Oh, I was talking about the dinner. After a mildly enjoyable day at water kingdom and an immensely destressing walk at marine drive, we three started planning to call it a day and pushing off back to Pune. A dinner, however was still pending and we had to think about a place that could complement a lovely day. TENDULKAR's popped up in my friend's mind and I rejected it on the basis of bad name that had been given to it so far. Still, we started towards colaba. Walking past beautifully decorated MANTRALAYA and admiring the cool breeze, we finally reached in front of Tendulkar's. Klay Oven was adjacent to it and we were divided on where to go. I had heard Chicago Klay Oven was good but somehow, had never been there. Well, finally, we decided against Klay Oven and entered Tendulkar's. Menu was at display on a rather small lectern at the entrance and I was delighted to find some Indian Vegetarian delicacies there in. I liked the shady blue lighting in the alley that leads to staircase. Climbed a couple flights and entered the main hall. Greeted by a rather non-descript girl, clad in red who turned out to smart enough to make an impression.
We were exhausted from a hectic day and were still trying to ease ourselves into the soothing environs. Started looking around and found everything just perfect. Everything, off course, had to be colored in Sachin hue but of many other theme restaurants, this one was really eye-catching. From the stumps shaped salt-pepper dispenser to thick glass walled sink in the washroom, from Tendulkar autographed everything to beautiful cutlery, I was liking everything. Waiters were smartly dressed as well as smart tongued. My close observation failed to notice any mistake and it definitely made me happy. Best part of the dinner came at first. I just cant hold and do not want to hold any appreciation here. It was undoubtedly 'among the best non-alcoholic drinks I have ever had'. Base was coconut water, flavor was lychee and wow was the word. The splendid start was followed by baby cheese naans and mushroom wantons. These are the little things that separate classy restaurants from run of the mill ones. How can you make a mere naan as starter, and make it tasty on top of it. Just give a tang of cheese, make it appropriately warm and serve it in a suave manner. You are done. Same was the case with wantons.
For main course, we ordered things as simple as daal makhni and bhindi masaala and found that our servers did the best they could do. Best you can do with these things is to put the precise amount of spices and thats how it was done. Well, still, I have to say that 'innovation' was missing but they had already done a lot better to excuse themselves of complacence.
we were short on time and could not try any desserts......may be next time.
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