Likeable Writing

Being liked is something you don't get by trying too hard.

I spent a good part of this morning trying to come up with something likeable to write about. Thoughts came and went, but none of them stuck on. Well, its not like there isn't much happening in my life. No sir (or madam, my apologies), there is no dearth of things to write about.

I could write about clarinetist and composer Shankar Tucker's music videos that I have become a big fan of. Or about the wonderfully enlightening week I had in New York as part of StartingBloc - an experience I definitely regret not having written about much much earlier. Or about my jam-packed and intense rendezvous with startup scene at a StartupWeekend event in SanFranscisco. 

In each case, I'm trying to envision the end product - a complete piece of writing. I'm trying to compare which topic would produce a better finished piece. Best work first, right? But soon enough I realise how utterly foolish this endeavor of 'comparison' is. The process of writing on a certain topic changes my opinion of that topic. I am forced to actually think about the topic, go over the details, adjust my thoughts as my writing evolves. So I'll never know how the end product will look.

I believe each piece of writing should get what it rightly deserves - a deferred judgement. Evaluating your writing before completing it can do more harm than good. And since I cant stop evaluating myself on any of the aforementioned topics, I shall defer those posts for later.

There are certain times when you sit in front of a blank screen, hopeful and lightly expectant. And magically an hour or so later you have a piece of writing that might leave you genuinely surprised (in a good, bad or horrific way).

This is one of those times. I wont pass any judgement until this has been published and its too late to do anything else. This particular piece of writing (if it can be called that) has been a surprise!

Sand Avalanche

sand avalanche : Movement of large masses of sand down a dune face when the angle of repose is exceeded or when the dune is disturbed.
McGraw-Hill Dictionary of Scientific & Technical Terms, 6E, Copyright © 2003


A fortnight ago friends and I were at Eureka sand dunes near Death Valley. We had an awesome time climbing up the structure made up of innumerable ridges and valleys. To climb up, you have to walk on edge of a ridge, which usually gives way to a deep crest on either side. One side of the ridge is steeper that the other and the sand is a loose on this side.

Some places the ridges were so steep that the sand dune seemed unstable - as though a light wind or a slight earthquake tremor could bring the whole structure down. In certain places we could push a little sand down from the top and watch as a mini avalanche was created! We spent some time playing around and making sand rivers.

We heard trembling at a certain point on the dunes.. we thought the sound could be from an earthquake or a power station nearby. We dont know what what made the sound, but who knows.. it just might have been a sand avalanche!

Been a month

Its been around a month since I arrived at Purdue. So many things have happened in so less a time. The ability of humans in general (and me in particular)to adapt to surrounding environments constantly surprises me. In just a few days things have started to turn from the extraordinary to the routine. Im no longer overwhelmed by the different sights, sounds and smells (or the lack of them by Indian standards) around me.

You cant help being inspired by the professors and the research happening in this place. You begin to realize how much more there is to learn. By learn I mean really learn.. and not "get good grades" or "pass an exam" and the like. The teaching in class (for most part) makes you think. Which is good.

Not being in contact with people back home is like a dull persistent body ache. You can talk on the phone or chat online, but there's never a good time to say goodbye. Some things will just take some getting used to, I guess.

Of course as a grad student you have no time. There is always something important to do right away. And more often than not (at least in the beginning of the semester) the tasks are very interesting. Very difficult and time consuming, but interesting nevertheless. This is one of those rare occurrences when I don't feel guilty of spending time writing a blog.

More to come later. Fervently hope I get the time (and the clear conscience) to blog again!

First Impressions

I came to the US on 1st August 2009. To New York in fact. These are my three first impressions of Unites States :

1) Where are the people, people??
Coming from India, you are used to having people around. Physically I mean. Be it small villages or big cities we all sort of stick to each other. I found exactly the opposite in US. There are hardly any people around you. When I was told that JFK is one of the busiest of airports, I expected to see loads and loads of people . Somewhat like what we see in Railway stations in India. There was nothing of that sort. I was half afraid I got down at the wrong airport. On the drive back from the airport to Mangalas' home I didn't see a SINGLE pedestrian walk on NY streets for around 20 minutes. This really freaked me out. Theres this underlying concept of personal space here. Maybe this might explain the no people concept:
Population density of India: 349/km2
Population density of US : 31/km2

2) Loads of Infrastructure.
The buildings, the malls, the roads, the vehicles are all a sight to behold. All structures here are massive and as automated as possible. A lot of technology goes into all kinds of contraptions used to make living very independant. This is something in which India is regrettably very far behind. Here even the homeless have access to basic humane facilities.

3) Auto Fanatics paradise.
Big red trucks.Not big,HUGE. Every kind of car imaginable. Every make of car heard of and many unheard of. Roaring gangs of Harley Davidson's. Convertibles cruising in morning sunlight. This country worships automobiles. Without them everything here would grind to a halt.

Visa Power! Went and got it.

I got my visa today from the Chennai consulate.

Luckily for me my cousin lives in Chennai, so accommodation,food and entertainment was well taken care of. Yesterday was spent mostly in the last minute arrangement of documents, ironing of shirts, ignoring of comments from well wishers on how people in general(and I in particular) should keep everything ready a few (read many) days before an important event.

Next day morning I was all set for my interview. Adrenalin was oozing in my veins. I found an auto and the infamous haggling over fares began. The entire journey was spent having alternating animated discussions on how tough life is for auto-karas in Chennai, and how often passengers are taken for a BIG ride (in more ways than one ) by the aforementioned autokaras. I didn't have much time at all to ponder over the questions that could be fired at me. I left the auto decidedly refreshed and invigorated by all the verbal jostling.


The VISA consulate at Anna Salai is quite a fortress. In a not so auspicious move I got down and tried to enter the building from the exit. And I was kicked out before I could get in. Anyway I walked all the way around to the entry point and stood in the looong queue. Nervous candidates and more nervous parents were standing there. I met so many people from Bangalore, from my college , from my school.. the world is really a small place.

One thing I probably realised - how I was lacking in good organization and filing of documents. Most of the people had come with such neat plastic "document suitcases" which contained flaps for all papers and even little coloured labels - ready made with text like Marks Card , TOEFL , I20 etc. And there I was carrying ALL my important original documents in a simple plastic cover.

As usual I had come around one hour early for my interview at 8:30 am. I had to wait till around 10.00 am till I got my chance. And five minutes later, a plump jolly American woman told me my Visa was approved. I did a wild tribal celebratory dance after hearing this. In my mind of course. And then had a coffee and walked out of there.

About the interview and the two plus hour wait .. I'll probably try to write in another post..suffice it to say that its not an easy wait and you get a zillion thoughts and emotions running through your head. So now its time to look forward and hope for the best...

Skin

Few days back I went to the dermatologist. A skin doctor if you please. Now what’s so special about going to the skin doctor… you might have wondered in your head. Hello... wait till I tell you the full story, I might have retorted had you expressed your thoughts aloud. And now having achieved the double objectives (objective?) of creating an artificial impression of suspense and managing to conjure up a opening paragraph with zero useful information when nothing writable was flashing in my head (third objective being writing a ridiculously long sentence that the reader wishes will get over, only to confront an another equally long ridiculous line at the end - within parenthesis) …gasp… I shall continue with the actual story.

So there I was in Jayanagar 4th Block walking around. A little aimlessly. That’s when I got this sudden urge to finish some pending stuff on my to do list. And there was point no 6 in black ink - ripe and fuzzy with age: Do something about rash.

It’s a silly little rash really. Not so silly that it can be ignored for long. Something that lies around until the day I’ve just forgotten about it. And then decides to erupt in indignation a little later. Not something contagious though. So if we've been in touch don’t worry! ( but again, you have only my word for this. And I’m not a Doctor. Yet.)

I took a little detour and sauntered into the dermatologists' clinic, pleased with myself. Just the day before I'd read some fundae by J Krishnamurti about how the "the first step is the last step". I’m taking the first step, I’m taking the first step I thought as I nearly tripped on the last few steps leading to the clinic. I entered the clinic and saw people packed into seats like French fries in a fat boys’ mouth. I decided to forget about J Krishnamurti's fundae for the time being. I entered gingerly, tried to fit in between two French fries but lost courage and ran back to the receptionist.

“Eh huh.. I don’t have an appointment. How long will it take to meet the doctor? “

“There are seven people before you. And its already 12.30 now. You will most probably not get an appointment by 1.45. Better you come after lunch around three.”

So I went back home. I knew the right thing to do would be to go back to the clinic at three. But I could make up some excuse and avoid doing this. So much work to do on the computer (I made myself think, handing myself a guilt free pass in the process).I headed blissfully back home knowing fully well I'd end up reading random stuff on the net instead of going to the Doctors’. But guess what. No current at home! And no marks for the second guess. No UPS at home!!

Once in every million years, when a first step is taken in the right direction, many other things conspire to make the right thing happen.
Sounds quite corny but you can quote me on this ... as "Nikhil Balaji's counter corollary to Murphy's law circa 2009”. So come 2.45 pm I headed back to resignedly to the dermatologists'. And finished my business with him.

One more thing which struck me was how far ahead the dermatologist was booked for appointments. When I asked for an appointment, the only slot I could get was for 3 weeks later! And appointment on Saturdays and Sundays... Forget it. Why what’s with the skin? Is it more susceptible to diseases and problems than other parts of the body? Or aren’t there enough dermatologists in India? Haven’t the medical fraternity figured the simple logic of supply and demand…why don’t more of them take up (for lack of a suitable word in my dictionary and a lethargy on my part to look up the internet) dermatology studies?? What the hell!!
Note to self: Meditation is apparently not working for you right now.

Lying on the lawn

Not many things give me more pleasure than lying down on the ITPL lawn nowadays. After a hard days work (hard days work....I can hear the cynics!) a good lie down on a bed of lush green grass does wonders to the body. And more so to the mind. The process is a natural tension remover, the moment you lie down all mundane worries vanish with the wind!

I’ve been doing this regularly for quite some time now. An ideal time to do this would be in the evening around 6.30 to 7.30. A sunset can’t be seen from ITPL, but at least the changing light can be appreciated. You should take a stroll at this time, go down to the ITPL lawn and look for a decent spot. There used to be a lot of open space in ITPL sometime back. A big chunk of the grounds are now closed with construction work going on there. Presently there’s only a small rectangular patch of grass right opposite the Inventor building I work at. While the grass cover over here is not lush all around there are quite a few good spots you can find.

Picture this:
You are lying down on the lawn. As you look up you see towering steel and glass structures on three sides which seem to be welded at the edges. The U shaped monolithic block frames the deep blue open sky. There are a few Gulmohur trees on the lawn. Green leaves and few bright red bursts of flowers present an almost stark contrast with the unforgiving gray and glass all around.

Roll your eyes around and you can see chauffeur driven cars circling past you and your patch of green grass. A few irate cab drivers circle around the lawn waiting for passengers while other sleepy passengers yawn at passing cars hoping it is for them.

The lawn is riddled with muddy brown patches and there are places that are water logged. But all these just add to a sense of natural beauty that tries to thrive in the midst of computer filled concrete behemoths. As you continue gazing up, you see birds (and bats?) flying around at various levels in the sky. Some go in neat circular arcs, others make zig zag arbit flights. Many seem to be chasing what look like smaller birds or insects. As time passes a few mosquitoes appear from nowhere. Some get too close for comfort. They mosquitoes have a sense of taste (pun intended) too.. a selective few on the lawn walk around with black fuzzy clouds over their heads.

The light all around is diffused and golden - partly due to fading sunlight and partly due to the glow from the lamps encircling the park. Sometimes when there is a cloud or two, the lighting and scenery looks like its taken right out of an illustrated children’s book. As time passes the lamps grow brighter and white lights spill out on to the lawn from the concrete monsters. The sky meanwhile turns blue green orange copper purple. Somewhere in a corner a minuscule white dot becomes visible in the sky. With time more such scattered dots come into view and begin to sparkle. Things in the mind seem to become clearer as dots become stars become constellations on the sky above.

Some random building begins to emit a low pitched vibrating buzz. A wailing siren brings relief to factory workers somewhere close by and momentary irritation to others next to me. A steady white noise flows from the river of traffic just outside. In the background of such noises from man made jungles, happy voices float all around punctuated intermittently by raucous peals of laughter. People walk around on the lawn with cell phones - talking earnestly, arguing, cajoling, negotiating, flirting. The waterfall of voices around you is predominantly bubbly and soothing, quite unlike the crisp and somewhat harsh sounds within the buildings. Steady streams of people leave the buildings and pour on to the sidewalk. They look carefree and visibly happy.

A tiny wriggling sensation creeps up the ankle and moves on to the shins, cleaving a path towards the knee. Soon many such tiny tickles begin to be felt over various parts of the body. But you are comfortably lazy and decide to ignore them, taking in all the sensations. Time seems to stall and you are almost half asleep. In fact its almost time for the bus already! You stagger on to your feet and leave the lawn, whistling with the wind, kicking pebbles on the sidewalk……

A near-perfect blackout

While returning home late last night there was a power cut.Not that power cuts are anything out of the odinary, but they almost always occurred in the afternoons in my locality. The darkness would have been pitch black but for the lights in the Brigade Gardenia apartments..trust those people to have uninterrupted power supply. And right in front of my home too.

Immediately the power cut took me down memory lane back to younger days when power cuts were amazing fun. Having lived for quite some time in apartment colonies, I remembered that in those days nothing was as fun and scary at the same time as playing hide and seek in the fading twilight, with no current powering up apartment lights and TV's in the various houses. And its not an everyday experience to be sitting on an open terrace under the stars with friends and family. You could do this any day, but its not quite the same as doing it on a power cut day. A power cut sort of gives you the moral license to sit back and relax without worrying about mundane daily 'action items'.

Theres something magical, naughty (I don’t mean eloping couples, but that’s probably a good way to spend a power cut too right?) and unnatural about a power cut. Its like going back in time. With no instant gratification like the TV and the net, time dilation seems to occur, suddently there is too much time on one's hands and nothing immediate to do till power comes back again. I get an eerie feeling thinking .. so this is how my great-great-great-great-grandfather must have spent his time in the evenings! A little depressing really.. Im so lucky to be living in this generation!

The other side effect of a power cut is the 'family bonding' thing which happens. Suddenly you have to spend time in the house together with only family members for company. And you realize how much you take the main people in your life for granted. In fact a routine power cut may do more good in the family bonding sense than a hurried visit to a movie in a mall through maddning traffic jams.

This also got me thinking - how five minutes of a power cut can trigger thoughts which I can never get even if I force myself for two hours. There must be some sense to these soft "stuff" like ambience, setting ,architecture of a place etc..things which we genarally take for granted.

Anyway, the power has come again, and the ambience has changed! Time to go, the internet is calling …

An abysmal joke before signing off..
Which is the most proactive environmental organization in Karkataka?
The Karnataka Electricity Board of course!

Sirprize!!

"I'm going to Savandurga tomorrow for a trek with my friends" announced Gaurav.

There was momentary silence in the Kulkarni household. Everyone was waiting for someone else to begin. No one wanted to be the first to take the blame for starting the whole drama.

"So does that mean you are going to miss physics tuition tomorrow?" sister asked. Gaurav's silence was answer enough. This was promptly followed by a derisive snort, some rolling of the eyes and a few coughs from father, mother and sister respectively.

All knew what was to come next. There would be an explosion of fireworks from four big mouths. Each person would chip in to give very well meaning and very bitter advice to Gaurav. Gaurav would declare he was fed up of being controlled by everyone.

"But you just went to the farmhouse party last week"

"All my friends are going tomorrow. I cannot miss it"

Ah, using the friendly example to evoke feelings of emotional repent. Now mother and sister began to tread carefully, trying to modulate their voice so that they cannot be perceived as being unjust or sadistic. The situation was a little like India Pakistan fighting for Kashmir.... either a constant war or undercurrents of it other times. But no solution in sight.

"Friends or enemies, you cannot go. That’s it." Dad said.
So it was decided then. Once dad put his foot down, NO one could lift the handkerchief from below it.

Next Day Gaurav started using the next tactic in his bag of tricks. He began pitching for his upcoming birthday. "You didn’t let me go to the trek, at least get me a nice birthday present" he told amma, the softest target. Gaurav was really competent in using diplomacy.

"You spend so much on makeup. Have you ever considered making up with me by buying me a good birthday present?" Gaurav said to sister.

Gaurav knew such tricks won't work on his father though. Dad was an accomplished diplomat and was a role model for Gaurav in a weird sort of way. Probably he had pulled off similar tricks when he was a kid. But dad had one weakness : studies.
"I got 86/100 last maths exam. I need money for books and maths tuition, or else I may not get good marks in the coming mid terms"

Ah, he had touched a soft and wanting-to-help-at-last nerve.
"Little kiddo wants to buy books and study! He wants to do well in life!!
This birthday I'll will break the rules and give him a present." thought dad.

The birthday dawned.

Gaurav got a home made cake and few Tin Tin books from amma.

Gaurav got an original Reebok sweatshirt from sister.

Gaurav knew he would get nothing from dad for his birthday, but he was to get the money for his books and tuition today. That would be his biggest present!
Gaurav's dad came and placed a hand on his shoulder. "I have always thought giving presents on birthdays is a stupid idea. Look I never got presents on any of my birthday's ever (wife glared at him now). Other than from Amma of course..heh heh..Sure... Correct!!"

Whenever amma stared at him, he forget his lines and suddenly became very optimistic in general. "Er..anyway, this birthday I wanted to get you something."

Gaurav's throat became dry after hearing this in spite of the Pepsi he had drained a few moments ago.

"I remembered what you asked for sometime back!"
Gaurav also desperately tried to remember what he had asked for last time.

"See you always complain I don’t take any spontaneous actions! So I personally went to Manju sir and booked the maths tuitions for you!! " (When no one clapped, dad continued) Lucky chap! Not many people can afford tuitions for two subjects. Now you will definitely get super marks in the coming mid term!"

Mother and sister looked at dad with mock disbelief.
Gaurav looked at Dad with real stomach wrenching disbelief. He was screwed. This was the worst birthday had ever had. What a terrible sirprize!

Flashback : Trip to Kodachadri

I decided to delete another blog I usd to write - Wanderlust , primarily since the blog had only one post in the past two years. And I was loath to lose that one post , so heres a repeat of it ... basically a travelogue of a trip of Kodachadri Hills and other places during college days.
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We (Manjunath RG, Manoj, Mohan, Nikhil, Puneeth, Raghunandan, Sumedh, Vikram) left Bangalore Railway Station at 11:10pm on the 29th of December 2006. The plan was to visit sringeri, Kodachadri, Jog Falls and other interesting places we came across on the way. We were to spend the last day of 2006 trekking on the Kodachadri Hills. The journey aboard the Shimoga Express was pretty uneventful, we played UNO until midnight, with the occasional company of a drunken policeman.

We reached Shimoga bleary eyed and cold early next morning and took a Qualis to Hotel Mathura Palace to get some lost sleep and to freshen up. We had breakfast at the same hotel and left towards Sringeri at 8:05am on National Highway 13. On the way we stopped at a nearby dam and tested Mohan's Nikon camera on the riverside scenery.


Further along on the way we stopped at Elephant Camp.We had a first hand view of the elephants befing given a bath in the early hours of the morning. The mahouts were very meticulous and the elelphants seemed to be enjoying the attention.




We hit the road again and travelled on winding and tortuous roads lined with eucalyptus, arecanut and a host of other trees. The roads were no bed of roses though,they were riddled with potholes.

There was a farmhouse-turned resort on the way :Vihangama Resorts I think, where Sumedh had stayed before, we stopped there for about twenty minutes. The place was very scenic with its plantations, hillocks and most of all, the beach-like sand and rocks framing a nearby river. We left the place conjuring up plans to buy a similar farmhouse sometime in the future.


The next stop was at Kuvempu's (widely regarded as the greatest writer/poet of Kannada language) house. The place was well maintained, the house and its accoutrements gave a glimpse of the lifestyle and culture prevalent during the great poets time. We saw the memorial where his body rests, the place was encompassed by Stone henge- like structures that bemused us, i guess we didnt grasp the full import of it.




We reached Sringeri at 12:30pm. We payed our respects at the Sharada temple (dedicated to the Goddess of learning and wisdom), but could not visit the Shankaracharya Mathin the vicinity. We fed puffed rice to the fishes in the adjoining Tungabhadra river.

We had lunch at Sringeri and left for Nagara, the town close to Mohan's Chikappa's farmhouse . On the way we stopped at a nondescript Jain Temple, and then at the ruins of Shivappa Nayakas fort. The views at the fort were pretty scenic, the terraces on the fort resembled the famous and now cliched place shown in Dil Chahta Hai; the one with rocks on the edge of the sea where Sid, Akash and Sameer hang out.


We left for Chikappas house , but had to take a detour on the way due to a collapsed bridge. We reached the place at 5:30pm. The route to the farmhouse-Kalkai for the last 30 min was pretty steep and winding, vehicles other than jeeps and SUV's would have found plying it a herculean task. It made us wonder just how different our city life is from that of the locals here. The house was charming and idyllic in an old fashioned way, seemed to be bereft of the noise and rigours of daily city life.

We looked around the place and left for a small night trek to a nearby hillock to catch a signal on our cellphones. It was past sunset, but there was bright moonlight. The sky view was amazing, with no clouds in sight and stars gleaming all over the place.

We ruturned from our jaunt, discussed about tomorrows plans with the folks in the farmhouse and had dinner, which was excellent. We planned to tuck in early as we had a tough day ahead but ended up playing UNO until nearly midnight again.


We had breakfast the next morning and left for Kollur at 9:30am. At Kollur we visited the Mookambika Temple and spent some time buying odds an ends we might require on the trek. We had a few heated discussions and squabbles before deciding on the exact itinery for the day ,there were two alternatives to take : a 3 hour trek from Vallur or a 5 hour one from Kollur itself. Finally we decided to walk upto Arasangudi falls and return, and then take the 3 hour trek to reach the temple priest's house Bhattru mane (just half-an-hour before the Sarvajna peak you will find this temple, which is an ideal place for camping).

Here is some general info about the peak which I convinently plagarised:
Kodachaadri in Hosa Nagar taluq in Shimoga district in West Karnataka is the highest peak in Shimoga District. At the peak it is believed that ‘Shankaracharya‘ did meditation. And to substantiate the same you will find a ‘Sarvajna Peetha‘ at the top. On the way to the peak you will also find a moderate sized waterfall deep inside the evergreen forest of Kodachaadri, which is called ‘Agastya Teertha‘. The peak presents a not to be missed lifetime opportunity in the evening as the sun sets in the west and in the morning as the sun rises in the east. You can also have a
golden glimpse of the Arabian Sea for a moment.



After having lunch we started the trek to Kodachadri from Vallur (a small village which has a single mallu tea shop) along the forest path on foot. The path was pretty well trodden and frequented by jeeps who raised huge clouds of dust that had us gasping for breadth. Some of us decided to look for alternative less treversed forest paths. We soon discovered that the winding "jeep path" had offshoots which cut through the forest and were a little difficult to negotiate (which was how we wanted it anyway). We began climbing these smaller paths stopping now and then to watch the scenery unfold before us. The panoramic sights more than made up for our weariness and we continued with a spring in our stride.











We reached Bhattru mane at about 6:30pm and began arrangements for the night. We entertained ideas of sleeping on the mountain side but with no camping gear and lots of plans for the next day, decided to sleep in Bhattru mane itself. The dinner in Bhattru mane was very good, or maybe our hunger knew no taste. We explored the place around the temple for sometime, there were a lot of other folks with campfires who were welcoming the new year by drinking, dancing and making merry.

The next morning we got up early and left to see the sunrise from a nearby hillock. The sunrise was beautiful and intoxicating, we were thrilled to see the white trail left by what looked like a space shuttle streaking past the sun.










We then walked up to Sarvajna Peetha and spent some time there.


We decided to take a jeep on our way back to Vallur from Bhattru mane as we were tired and had some more plans for the day. We left Vallur in our Qualis for Jog falls, stopping at Sagar for lunch. We spent about 3-4 hous at Jog falls, before we left for Shimoga. We had dinner at Shimoga and boarded the train back to Bangalore at 10:30pm.

We were back to Bangalore at 5:30am the next day, each of us pondering whether or not to go to office that day.

This, my friend is the story of our trek/road trip!

Evil Bus Driver

It was a pleasantly cool Monday morning. I walked to my bus stop with a spring in my step and a song in my heart. I had downloaded some good songs on my I-pod didn’t have much work in office today. As I walked, I passed across people in sweatshirts jogging and doing exercises. Dogs some leashed, some unleashed took their owners for a walk. Kids were playing football in the playground. I glanced at my watch and slowed down a little. I still had five minutes to go. The bus was to come at seven thirty in the morning. The driver’s watch was 15 min late and he didn’t know how to change it, because he always came at seven forty five. It was seven twenty eight and I would still have quite some time to listen to songs in the relatively calm bus stop, without the default traffic remix the bus provided. I came to my bus stop and said the customary hi to my bus-mates (if that’s a word).

I was in the middle of my third song when a bus-mate got a phone call from a friend. It appeared that the bus had already left. Amidst groans and boos, all of us began to form groups of two or three. We had to now travel to the nearest bus stop in auto, about 2 km away. The morning was not pleasantly cool anymore. It was chilly.

I got up earlier than usual the next day. I hurriedly had cornflakes and milk, forgoing the one decent home-cooked meal I would otherwise have. Having ironed my clothes last night itself, I was left with ten minutes to spare before it was seven twenty, the usual time I left home. I didn’t spend the ten minutes at home. I grabbed a book and my iPod and left for the bus stop with a song in my heart but no spring in my step, more with a hurried scuttle across crisp black asphalt. I reached the bus stop at seven seventeen and only then could I heave a sigh of relief. I knew I had at least fifteen minutes to spend in the bus stop. Over the next few minutes some more of my bus-mates joined me at the bus stop, all hoping they hadn’t missed the bus. We waited, mostly patiently.

Seven thirty.

Seven thirty two. No bus at the horizon.

At seven thirty six we finally saw a Pushpak bus weaving its way through small obstacles like cars, bullock carts and potholes. As it came closer, groans and boos resounded again. It was not an ITPL bus.

It would have been interesting to watch how people react to irritation and anxiety, had I not been in the same situation myself. Some stress busting techniques I noticed were quite quirky. A started cleaning his ears compulsively, using up up to six ear buds. B was having an argument with her husband. From what I made out the kind hubby wanted to wait till B got into the bus physically, but B was bothered by this for some strange reason and kept shooing him away without success. C seemed to be unprepared for an important meeting and after several minutes of deliberation, decided to open up his laptop and start working on his ppt. Seeing street urchins seeing him, his face reddened and he hurriedly closed the laptop before the urchins could have a good glimpse at the laptop. I, for my part had taken to straining my neck and glancing up and down the read much like I would probably do in a tennis match. This was because our bus stop was such that the bus could arrive from either side of the road. I’m not kidding.

There was a brief period of time when we all decided that the bus would come at the usual Indian standard time of seven forty five and we relaxed. I say brief because just a few moments later seven forty five passed us. Without the bus.
Till now all had kept mostly to themselves. By seven fifty however, there were signs of group protest. Most people probably thought” So its seven fifty now. The bus is officially late. I can speak ill of the driver with a free conscience... ”. A whispered murmuring broke out followed by heated gossip which then culminated in intermittent outbursts of raucous laughter aimed at the driver. All jobless people at the bus stop almost had a very good time with the attention their jokes got.

One or two people decided to take a rickshaw to the nearest bus stop. Finally the bus came at seven fifty. We got in, each of up competing with the other to give an evil stare at the bus driver. We reached office forty minutes late. The timing of our trip was perfect; we didn’t miss a single traffic jam that could have been possible on our 28km journey to ITPL.

Stupid ATM, Stupid Me

Sometimes when things go wrong, the aforementioned things perfectly synchronize with each other to form a deadly sequential combination of wrong things which can make even Gautam Buddha'ish kind of people go completely insane. If I’m not making much sense, it’s because as I write this a furious me is sitting at the footsteps of a rally stupid ATM which having swallowed my debit card with great gusto, now refuses to return it back.

In an instant I'm reduced from a savvy laptop carrying IT professional to a tense blubbering fool trying to desperately call SBI or SBM help lines to report a case of ATM mishap. WITH NO AVAIL of course!! By now I can feel droplets of bile form in my stomach (liver?) as my body prepares for a fight or flight situation. But having about 5 million years of evolutionary catch up to do, my body is totally unprepared for anything in this situation. (don’t correct me about 5 million years if you know better. I’m in front of the ATM now with no Internet access to verify this fact. Not that I verify facts that I otherwise write in my blog anyway...) In an ideal case a human body should have learnt by now that it is clearly of no use producing bile, adrenalin and other such stuff when it encounters either a toxic alien dubbed 'government official', or any of the toxic alien establishments dubbed 'Government offices'. Few notable examples of toxic alien establishments in Bangalore would be the

• Government Banks
• BDA
• RTO
• KEB

The toxic aliens and their establishments present a paradox : they claim to exist purely for the benefit of humankind but proceed to suck the life out of every human being upon contact. They have a very brutal form of torture: in todays world where giant leaps for mankind occur every nanosecond, they do nothing. Or they take so long to do something that you forget what they should have done in the first place, thus creating the illusion that they do nothing.

Anyway, my body far from being the ideal one (in more respects than I'd like to admit) continues to produce copious amounts of adrenalin as I wait for the bank to open, making me imagine with much relish how soothing it would be to box the ears of the first toxic alien I come across. Finally at 8:45 am a toxic alien appears. I don't box his ears.I tell him my predicament.

Me: Hi! Good Morning! (have to use this kind of bullshit platitude to put the toxic alien in a good mood) Do you know what I’m supposed to do; my debit card is stuck in the ATM machine.

Toxic Alien: Hmmm. Why are you sitting on the newspaper? It belongs to the bank employees you know.

Me: #@$%^&!! I’ve missed my bus , I'll miss the meeting at office and I’ve been waiting for 40 minutes like a watchman in front of your ATM , all the while shooing away other hapless customers, so that their cards don't pile up behind mine in the goddamn machine, and you’re worried about newspaper ? NEWSPAPER!! Come on! By the way , I’m considerate enough to sit on the classified section listing houses and plots for sale, none of which any bank employee dare buy in this wonderful economic climate that we have. And do you expect me to sit on the dust adorned ATM steps while I’m wearing a shiny black pant that happens to be both washed and ironed today?? Balls to you.... Of course I don’t say this. I was fond of my debit card and wanted it back. I turned sycophant again.

'Oh! Sorry about that. I thought someone else left it here by mistake.'

He glared at me, asked me to wait for five minutes and went into the ATM booth. I stood at the doorsteps of the adjoining SBM branch office. Five agonizing minutes later, he came up to me with the card and said 'Here, it had fallen down under the ATM machine. Our ATM's are very good, they don’t take the cards into them, you know. Next time be more careful'.

I stood there open-mouthed and dumbstruck. I mean, how the hell could the card fly out of the slot and place itself neatly under the ATM machine without me noticing?? The alien looked pretty earnest though (I mean earnest; he wasn’t pretty by any means. To me at least.), and I didn’t think he'd be lying about the card having fallen down. I forgave him for that.

But what about the last line - 'next time be more careful’? Nice move on his part-to put the blame back on me and make me feel guilty? To deprive me of my one source of toxic alienic punching bag? No way. I’m going to hold the stupid ATM responsible for wrecking my tight daily schedule(made tight solely by my inveterate slothfulness and procrastination) And I’m going to hammer out a blog on this , however stupid it may seem! Aaagrh!!

Night trek to Skandagiri Hills : Part 2

I was going to post some more details about our trek to Skandagiri Hills. Unfortunately we didn't get to see the unique mountain in the sea of clouds photo that is its USP. BUT my brother got these snaps when he went there 2 weeks back! So to hell with my rants about my trip, feast on these snaps from my brothers trip instead.

Night trek to Skandagiri Hills : Part 1

Finaaaly, after about one and half years of slothful city life , I went on a trek with office colleagues last Tuesday. And that too in the night! It was to the mighty mountain range far away from Bangalore - Skandagiri Hills! Ta-Dan Ta-Daa!!! (its actually a small hilltop just 60-70 km from Majestic Bus stand, but Im loath to let the truth get in the way of a good story)
Anyway, here are some pics from the trip...all of which were taken by Mani. Accompanying them are rants from yours truly.


Skandagiri Hills is(are?) now becoming quite popular with IT folks in Bangalore as a quick weekend trekking destination. The commonly followed itinerary is to climb the mountain in the night (statrting time varying from 12.30am to 3am), brave the cold winds on top for a few hours, look at the glorious sunrise and climb down again. The trek should take about 2 to 2.5 hours IF
1) all people in the group are at least slightly athletic.
2) you either know the way to the top, or go with a guide who basically just walks with you to the top of the hill or if lots of people are trekking so you can follow other gangs of trekkers.
Above is a picture of our gang at the base of the hill. Just behind us is the tea stall where you can get tea (obviously) and bread omlette.
The initial part of the trek was ok, but we started getting quite tired as we climbed higher and higher.

The gear (shoes, baggage, tents etc) can play a big part in the trek too... its important to use compact,comfortable and tried and tested stuff on the journey, to prevent any surprises. The green bag Im carrying in the next pic is a tent big enough for 5 people, weighs just about 2 kg or so..

For the first half hour or so the night was full of natural crystal clear moonlight , a far cry from the light-polluted Bangalore skyline. We could also literally see white hazy clouds forming at the top of the hill. However, most spectacular was the star studded sky. We couldnt get this on camera so you'll just have to believe us in the next pic...

As we got closer to the hill top it became more and more chilly and damp. We realised we were now level with the clouds and were surrounded by zillions of minuscule water droplets. The torches threw light less further now. They even resembled the swords of a Jedi knight...

Art and I

So here I was, a couch potato half asleep watching TV on a Saturday morning. I zeroed in on HBO and started seeing a documentary Art-ish film 'My Kid Could Paint That' primarily since no other channels had any meaningful movies going on. The initial part of the film was about a 4 year old girl 'artist' whose paintings won much acclaim and sold for large sums of money. About the later part.. I didnt know anything about.Why so ? Read on...

The first few parts consisted of interviews of Marla's (the child artist) parents and other people closely associated with her. The really good part was the footage of Marla painting. The scene was very natural and sort of pure: a little girl sitting on a sheet of canvas, taking out colors of various hues in oodles from toothpaste-like tubes and spreading it on, using her paint brush, hands, feet and what not to make cute patterns on the paper. The documentary nature and background chat with her parents made you feel like you're sitting there in Marla's living room, watching her and her kid brother play with colors. I felt just like a child, I could almost smell the paint on my own hands, and I felt a little jealous: grown ups really suck at having fun..

So I decided to be proactive. I decided to paint. What the hell, if a 4 year old can do it so can I.. I stopped the movie in the middle, went to the nearest stationary shop and brought some white chart-paper and Oil Paints, and sat down for some serious arting. And by mid-afternoon I had 3 masterpieces ready !!



This one is pretty amateurish I agree.... Depending on your mood you may think of it as
1) green and blue grass on an alien planet
2) a group of teenage snakes at the disco
3) how Bangalore buildings would look like in 5 years time
4) a traffic jam nightmares are made of...
Any other suggestions?



This one may appear ugly to the untrained eye. But don't be fooled, as you are well aware all art especially modern art needs a fine asthetic sense to be appreciated. Only a trained eye (like mine, probably the only one) can percieve the fine melange of colors, the sensuous brushstrokes and abrupt and dramatic use of fingers in the art form to evoke a sense of helplessness as one tries to grapple with the inherent meaninglessness of the picture. Some of you people may even be sorely tempted to tear your hair out in frustration. Therein lies the difference. You think I created the sense of meaninglessness by mistake. I know I created it on purpose. A true abstract artist am I eh?



Aaaaand finally the Picasso! The jewel in the crown !! I present to you ..this! Well dont ask me what it is-I dont know myself , but it sure is hot property. I am willing to part with it though, for any sum above Rs 500..

By the way, see 'My Kid Could Paint That' if possible. And let me know how the second part goes.