Bound by chains !

My morning walks acquaint me with scooters. In chains ! For a few days, i didn’t quite know what these scooters bound in chains signified.

Some wise man had said that man was born free, but was found in chains everywhere. But scooters ? This was indeed new.

And then, I was introduced to a ‘driving’ school for women. Which parked their bikes here. All chained together.

And in the morning, when the learners come up, the locks are removed and the unchained scooters come alive with an array of women with scooters marked ‘L’ signifying ‘a learner’.

‘Learning breaks down chains’ they say. Seems to be true here. And right here, it’s the chains that were latched on by the learning school ! The belief in the securing objects reigns here.

When not in use, objects are chained. There is still hope that the mind stays unchained. To the dark ages of the past.

Bound by chains !

Filmy Trees

Up in the mountains. In Kodai.

Tall they are. Nestling against each other. Seeming to stretch to the sky. Standing so close to each other. You wonder how they grew so tall despite how close they are to each other.

But there they are. Close. Tall. In a seemingly endless mosaic of green and brown. And proving to be such a spectacle. To city dwellers who are tourists today. Armed with cameras, ice creams, plastics, chatter & such else.

‘Shooting spot’. says the taxi driver. ‘We had a film crew here yesterday’, says a vendor. And there is more attention from the crowd. Some with gaping mouths, as though with reasonable prompting the trees would recount dialogues or retrace dance steps from yesterdays filming!

They stand in majestic splendour. The new found interest in them, after all the tit-bits about the most recent film crew, do no damage to them. The sun’s rays still struggle to reach earth as the trees, stand their ground!

There however, is a small pathway in between. In between those random arrays of trees. And that pathway tells a story. A story of empty space. Which once belonged to the trees.

What the mighty sun couldnt do, man has been adept at. Of course, for ‘worthwhile reasons’: Felling tree for wood. For paper to write on. For fuel to power our factories and light our homes. For door frames. For swanky chairs and designer tables.

The peace in the fresh air disturbed only by the tourist hurling a stone and an expletive at an adept monkey. Both of which don’t reach the monkey and neither does he care.

The majestic beauty casually appeals for a riveting attention. By the sheer nature of being there. There is wonderment. There is awe. There is peace. You wonder how long man will let these trees be.

And then you overhear. That there is a film shoot coming up next week. ‘The trees are safe’ you tell yourself.

At least until next week !

Filmy Trees

In the name of God

This is a ubiquitous scene in temples down here. An elephant and a mahout. And of course, devotees laden with belief !

With a synchronized precision that will give a Russian gymnast some competition, the trunk is extended. A coin or two is propped into the trunk by the devotee. The trunk is then lifted and placed on the head of the devotee ! Blessings from the elephant God himself !

And of course, after some coins gather, the mahout has his way of getting the coin laden trunk to where he sits !

And at Meenakshi Amman temple, this elephant must have been doing this blessing act for some time now. For not only does the precision show, there is an elegance to it.

And the mahouts don’t even bother to stand. Any management type would be quick to classify this as a " ‘mature process’ that runs by itself !"

Animal rights activists could cry foul. Mahouts hear a divine music in the coins that a wave of a trunk can bring. The devotee seeks blessings with faith. The elephant perhaps is now accustomed to be a stand in for God himself.

Of course, all in the name of God ! Who looks on. Perhaps with a smile. At his own creations. And their many actions.

In the name of God

Of almost theres !

There we were at Triuapti. With parched throats, sweaty palms ( & all else ) and a hungry stomach making the odd noise.

A bottle of water was warranted. With Swine Flu and H1N1 and such other terms being bandied about as though they were some designer saree patterns, brand consciousness in bottled water occupied prime mental space.

A ‘reputed brand’ ( Roughly Translated To : often heard of / seen on TV ) was the lowest common denominator. But the bottom line was the ‘advice’ from the missus : ‘Kinley or Aquafina’. ( And no, we do not have any stake in Coke or Pepsi. Even if we did, it would be an examplar of 'minuscule of minuscule'. So.)

In some time, Kinley was spotted. Or so it appeared. Walking away happily to a satisfied missus was a mouth watering proposition ! But when the missus ‘advises’ on a specific choice… well…hmm…exercising of a little care is a natural disposition of every married man, except ones with suicidal tendencies. And that's still not in the horizon. Yet.

A quick check.

And sure enough, it was not Kinley that nestled in the palm, but Kinglay ! Ofcourse, it was not bought. But sure enough, there has ever since been a burning desire to meet the chap who coined this name. 'Kinglay !!' Huh !

This was not the first time that these kinglays confront pour souls like me. And neither was it going to be last.

Back here in Madurai, wanting to pick up a pair of socks, this is a store that I almost headed to.

Adimas ! Almost.

Well. If adidas talks of "Impossible is Nothing" adimas brings it to the forefront !

Such is the world.

Of almost theres !

In praise of braids

The braids have almost but disappeared. (Except in rope designs, ofcourse). In the neighbourhoods that I live in. Or maybe, I am not looking thoroughly. But their omni presence in smaller neighbourhoods bring about the curiosity about what makes them disappear from the big cities !

‘It takes a while’ said a young mom back in the city. And went on to explain that hair has to be oiled well, combed free of small intertwining, and then, carefully ‘woven’ together and finished with a flourish with a striking red ribbon! (statutory disclaimer: This is both a recounted and translated version. So, mistakes could exist in the order and content. Please do not attempt it in this order, without expert help).

With fast lifestyles, TV and late nights, there’s just about time to make it to the school bus before the helpful school bus driver’s second honk! And of course, with twin careers (both in knots) and thoughts braided within the brain, who wants one (or two) more outside? And not in the least, the kids!

But, this is still in vogue. Atleast in South India. Atleast in villages. And most definitely, in certain sections of society. Where the hair is worked on with care. And the braids come on with a certain shiny oily elegance. Finished with love and a flourish of white Jasmine to go with the gloss of oiled hair topped with a blazing red of the ribbon.

I am told by people with insider information, that this process helps in strengthening hair! I have the faintest of ideas. The balding plate is further excuse. The closest that I have come to such knotty affairs in recent times is knowing Lolla Kutty has a group on Facebook. (Of which I am yet to become a member. Ok ?) Just saying.

The travelers roving eye spots many things. Many stay knotted in the mind or on the camera. Some find a way to the blog. This was one such.

In praise of braids

Barracked in Bangalore !

‘Bangalore is very connected to the US’ said a friend. Over breakfast. And to prove his point, he quoted Barack Obama talking of Buffalo and Bangalore on an even keel.

And the discussion meandered around the floundering economy and how long its going to take for the US to wriggle out of a recession and for Bangalore to get back to the top of its bent again.

Needless to say, the cows came home. Ate. Got hitched. Delivered. Died. Had rebirth. Twice over. And yet, that discussion didn’t get over !

So much for Obama and the Bangalore connection.

But there is yet another Obama connection that towers. Right opposite to the McDonalds store on old Airport Road.

Now hoping Obama will work his ‘magic wand’ to move the economy is worth a prayer. But to use his Cairo speech (& him) as a bridge head to help understand the Quran is a height that had me letting go a chuckled gasp in surprise.

I don’t know what happens when you call these numbers. Perhaps someone should try. But Obama as a bridgehead for the Quran? I wonder why. Is it because Bangalore has a US connection and hence Obama a better presence here ? Is this opportunism ? Is this an example of what a simple speech can achieve : instilling of hope in a divided time ?

I wonder. As people from the McDonalds store dive into their burgers. I wonder what you think ?

Barracked in Bangalore !

Time flies !

Posting this from Bangalore. Just back from a trip to Tirupati. Tomorrow, And then, off we move to Madurai. There are people to be with. Memories to relive. Doctors to look up. Food to relish. Love to soak in. And batteries to recharge. That indeed is a tall order.

The last couple of days here flew by. With the odd chat up with past colleagues and present day friends. Non-engineered bump-ins and fixed appointments. And i have understood, a few things.

a. Whats 'big' right now, would seem 'small'. Some time later

b. People are inherently good. And yes. There are exceptions to all rules

c. There are far too many readers to this blog than i ever thought there (c)would be !

An in one such conversation, with an old friend, who professes to be a regular reader of this blog ( and proved it by quoting from the immediate posts ), i realised that it is exactly three years since this blog saw its first post. Time flies. Doesn't it.

Three years of writing and many to thank: The regulars. The occassionals. The passersby. The one timers. The Family. The commentors. The silent ones.

And life goes on. Some ask, if i will 'throw it open to advertisers'. (And i have told them that media buyers are lining up my alleyway, with Rolls Rocyes ! (huh !) Whats preventing me from taking up the offer is the lack of parking space in my palace ! Sigh !)

Where will it take me to ? Perhaps i have to follow the directions on the tree above. I don't know. And perhaps don't care. I enjoy the people connections, the stories from the world over and genuineness that this place makes possible. And have found fulfilment in. So !

Would i have imagined many 'awards' like this, (generously awarded by someone who i haven't met) when i started out ? Obviously.... no ! This blog happened over an afternoon fun conversation with my brother. Time pass types ! And it meandering along to stand where it stands now, ( not that its any great a height ) is a happy, fuzzy feeling ! After all, Its still standing !

And there are those wonderful well wishers, who have (repeatedly) indicated to me that i need a doze of style and brand presence on the digital world. I cant help agree more with all of them. And i promise that i will get started on that journey. This year.

Like i saw this today morning at Tirupati. Many hair dressing 'saloons' in a sea of tonsured heads. Right in Tirumala. But why. I wondered. And i continue to wonder about how they do some brisk business ! And i did see them do business !

And so. Its three years. Three years of meeting some awesome people here. And wonderful perspectives from around the world converging ! And it is in such connections that this blog has derived its engine of life from. From you !

And,of course, the courage that many readers have had, to come back for more, inspires & emboldens. This blog will continue to stand. In that small corner.

Time flies !

The Red Sumo philosophy !

The morning rush hour has slices of life to offer. Many times i wonder, why all this has to happen in the morning. To me ( only ). On a week day.


This red Tata Sumo was ahead of me today. Holding up all traffic with its confounding slow pace and a strangely meandering wobble. I thought this car had a flat tyre.

But the chap behind me neither saw the wobble or my thinking. He was seething. And i could realise that he seethed through his horn. Blaring.

The whimper of the pace of the Sumo and the madness of the honking behind, had me in a state of a juxtaposed animation. Not suspended. But juxtaposed. I swore at Murphy. And wondered if he had made unannounced plans for cohabiting with me.

Thankfully, in some time, with some dexterity (that can give me the right to claim that i too drove in Mumbai), i pulled away.

But, i was not quite prepared for this.


Later in the day, i showed these pictures around. To colleagues and any other that might care. And asked them to come up with 'what it means' to them.

And of course, i got well thought through answers.Ranging from 'holistic perspective', 'economic spectrum', 'human conditions' to 'life cycle'.

Wonder what your mind comes up with when looking at these pictures.

Frankly. I think. People are just getting ready for the Mumbai monsoon !

Whatsay ?

The Red Sumo philosophy !

Questions are the answers !

Children and their abilities to question are legendary. Coming from a clean slate, an inherent curiosity to know more and just be present in the moment.

Amongst the kids of friends and family, many questions abound. And some stay with me. More in that moment as their parents struggled for answers. Here are a few recollections.

• 'Why do you have to stand straight ? Can you just crawl around ?'

• 'Who invented walking ?'

• 'Papa, why don't you wear a blue cloth on your head like that man ? ( Pointing to Manmohan Singh)'

• Upon seeing a Korean Air plane, which is blue in colour : " That is the only plane that flies in the sky".

• Papa, do you really work when you go to office or sleep like you do on Sundays ?

• Mamma, ( looking at slum children ) can i play with them ? Why not ?

• Uncle, are you the one from office, that my dad complains to my mom about daily ?

• ( After watching Animal planet ) Animals are wonderful. So much better than my school teacher. Isnt it ma ?

• If the rose can be red in colour, and it so good, why cant everything be red in colour ?

• If i will be big one day, there will be somebody small also ? I need to teach somebody like you are teaching me.

• After watching Discovery Channel : "If all people are the same, why do we have to fight ?"

• Watching a news telecast : 'These people have no other work'

• Upon being asked what his name was : 'You are the 10th person asking my name today. Please ask that uncle in that green T-shirt'.

• Mamma, if God invented the world, he invented ice-cream also ? Are you sure, God invented vegetables also ?

Children and their questions / statements have always promised a hope for the future. That things indeed will be different. And to date, that's a promise that never fades. At least as long as us adults don't interfere ! That is !

Here's to a great year of education ! And the next time he or she, comes up with a question, no matter how silly, no matter how odd. Perhaps its important to note that many answers to his or her future stays pregnant in the questions themselves !

And of course, one last question asked by a certain R. The mother had no answer. Can somebody help her.

"Why do girls sit and do 'su-su' and boys have to stand and do 'su-su' ?" [ 'Su-su', is accepted child / adult speak for pee ]


This post concludes the three post series on the kids world of today

Questions are the answers !

Towards a wired future.

Theres this letter you might want to read here.

The times have changed. Haven't they. In a big way. With Blue-ray technology. Internet & its many applications. DVD drives. PlayStation III ! Ofcourse, things have changed.

And of course, children of today will rise above all the plans the adults of today have for them. That's my hope. And wish.

Sample this.

An advertisement calling in for students ( in the age group of 5-6 years). Apparently, they are starting a 'new batches' ! To teach kids read and spell words using phonetics.

And of course, parents have to be worried if their kid cant spell 'Dictionary' at the age of 5. Or 6 for that matter. Of course. And spelling that right, will make a 'a winner in life'.

And of course,there are exams that measure. And measures that examine. Tuition centers that coach. And coaching classes that tutor. TV programs on stars and the world. And the world full of stars of other kinds.

I think, We are indeed on the right path. Of course. Lets hear it. For all of us. Educators. Policy makers. Kids. Parents. And everybody else in this chain. Yay.

As we hurtle fast towards success in a super connected world. With Orkut facebook, digital technology, faster education, blogs, spell checks (btw), Educational programming and the like....

..am i the only one, wondering if our education system makes us meander towards a wired future . With short circuited souls ?


( This is Part - II of a three part series on the Kids World of today )

Towards a wired future.

The Same Wall in K World !

Post - 1 of a three post series on the K World !

Theres this wall. Everyday on the way to work. On the way to work. Currently it echoes a lonely halo in the mornings. For schools are closed and children are away on holiday.

In some time though, schools would reopen. Overflowing satchel and sprightly uniforms will dot the roads. As much as school buses and parents at a bus stop. Tiny hands scratching the air while in animated conversation about an 'important' topic is clear. Of a butterflies. Bees. Cricket. actors. Etc Etc. And of course, mothers there have their own.

It is indeed some sight. To watch the contrast. The children without a care and worry. The moving butterfly, the kite that broke free and the odd 'secret' visibly keeping them busy. Them mothers, i don't know. Their subject of discussion remains distant to me.

Coming back to the wall.

The children, they sit on the wall. They are rather, propped on the wall. By ageing grandparents and caring mothers. An escape from having to stand and wait for the school bus. And sitting on the high perch, on the high wall, they converse.

The 10 seconds it takes for me to drive past them, are enough to spot the happiness in them. Animated. Energetic. And that 10 seconds is usually enough for me figure the energy expended in keeping them up there. At one place that is.



And in the evening, when i drive back, by the same wall, exactly where the children sat, there are the others that sit on the same wall. Men. Propped by themselves.

Young men. Old men. Middle aged men. All sit and have conversation. Some read the newspapers. Others discuss. Perhaps they too are waiting for their bus to arrive..

For a while now, i haven't been seeing the children. When the schools reopen, there is going to be chatter and banter. And it is such a sight to behold. Everyday morning.

And i wonder, how it would be to be that wall. To be privy to all what the children speak. Their dreams. Their worlds. I wonder. And then, i think of the company the wall keeps in the evening. I shake my head. And say, 'time flies'.

The wall will come to bounce with morning energy again. Soon.

Here's to a great school season. May it rekindle in children the joys of living, the spirit of curiosity, inclusive thinking and a mindset that will make our futures better.

And may they tear down all walls. Save this wall.

This is the first of a three part 'Kids World' series on the modern day world of a child

The Same Wall in K World !

Sticking the neck out..

A wedding invitation bearing my name '& family' came my way. And ofcourse, i went.

And brought to mind typical weddings and their decorations back in Madurai. The Mumbai wedding is slightly different. It retains all the glitz and is a little more racy. The eye is on the watch and the thought is with the 9.07 PM local that needs to be 'caught'.

But the point is this. That across India, for every marriage, many converge. And each wedding is a very typical, Indian moment. For every marriage, many converge. ( usually in multiples of many hundreds). All eat. Most see. A few wish. Some other wedding 'proposals' exchanged.


Everybody gets photographed and videographed. And form a queue that will walk upto the bride and groom to gift or thust a cover (ofcourse with cash inside ) into a sweaty palm of a tense bride. Or groom, for that matter.

When feisty youth used to course my veins i used to abhor attending weddings. For it was the time when the other 'uncles and aunties' would be concerned about what i was doing.

Which was exhibited with a casual question on 'how much do you make ' as though it was the number of dosas that had gone in since morning. (And in any case, the question rather had been about the dosas).

And ofcourse, that was followed by a by-the-way comment about how their son was was basking in the Mediterranean and the daughter was waxing eloquence in London or someplace else, you only saw on National Geographic.

But the point is this. That the great Indian wedding is an inescapable part of us. There is music. There is dance. There are pretty women. And handsome men. And ofcourse, some great food.

And in the midst of all the din & decoration, often less talked about is the good that it does to economy. For the wedding season spurs many businesses on. From the decorator to the dance party, everybody makes some dough. And by the way, the jeweller is not someone that i am going to talk about.



This picture landed in my in-box from a friend, who wanted to establish that the recession was far away from 'happening' in Kerela's weddings. Now, this surely had my eyes perk, and the ears twitch.

What the world wears for its wedding is a matter of personal choice and consequently - none of my business.

But you know...i am just concerned. Of the neck.

Sticking the neck out..