To dye or not to dye.......

Can't forget the day when I noticed the first grey hair nestled in the jet black dense jungle...... it jabbed me somewhere inside and then the realisation dawned.....yes me too.  The pangs continued coming with each new addition. The frequency, of course was not so worrying but nevertheless, they kept appearing. At First only the ones seen over the forehead were visible.  Then slowly it became noticeable within roots on several areas of the scalp. Hmmm...... time waits for none.  At first whatever few strands greyed randomly were camouflaged by the dominating jet black ones.  

As years passed on, they were progressing and the areas just above the ears were decently greyed.  After you settle down on the barbers’ chair, he promptly puts the royal robe, which I always suspect needs a royal wash however shining it may seem, and then proceeds to give, a kind of, push behind your head as a sign to bow down before the mirror and stay put like that for the initial clipping. After the clackety-clack begins, you can't help but notice the clumps falling on the royal robe, which few moments ago graced your nut. After the discovery of grey strands, the degree of grey in these clumps was a sure indicator of how many of them you have all around. The mirror only shows you what the eye can easily see. The real measure are those clumps of chopped hair falling free from the barbers scissors.  In early days when the clumps had mostly black hairs, the barber usually  ended the ceremony by brushing aside the tiny ones and asking "Bas karu ya aur kam karu...."  As the years went , this changed to "Saab....dye karna hai kya?"  Well, when for the first time this was asked to me, the realisation sunk in that now I have really grown older. Grey hairs, certainly made him to add that "Sahab…" Wow! Greying must really add to your grace.  But that instant itself, I shot back firmly like Chloromint advertisement "Nahi!!!  Aur doobara mat poochna!"  While I was delivering this, the barber had kind of expression on his face which said,  “Kab tak bachega!! “  In Chloromint ad the customer’s nut is banged repeatedly, but here I felt like banging his nut on the nearest wall! Maybe because, by saying yes, he could understandably get one more bakra in his net for 50-60 bucks, guaranteed every month, and my looks certainly was his least concern.

Money was the last thing I had on mind when I brushed aside his suggestion.  Somehow, the idea of trying to look younger never appealed to me.  At heart, of course, I am always around 24, even though I am in mid 40's now.  As years breezed by the tone gradually changed and I started sporting a mature look with sides full of grey.  Even the mustache which was spared in the early years commenced its journey towards grey.  

Finally last month, I gave in to the demands from several quarters....more so from my in-laws side who I think were keen to keep me at par with my wife’s still jet black top (Why Bengali ladies have jet black hair for long is a topic for another blog). Eventually, the stage was set. My brother-in-law actually procured all the necessary potions, brushes, etc. etc. and handed them over to me to get in action for the changed look for a wedding attendance.  By then, I too thought, what the heck... let me do it once and check the results.  As I began pasting the grimy herbal stuff all over my nut, my ten year old daughter waited on eagerly for the new look I would be getting in an hours’ time.   She devotedly guided me to paste at places which were not reflected in the mirror.  The instructions on the pack said, wait for an hour before washing it off. By now even I was curious what the result would be and waited patiently for the clock to tick the required one hour.

Two pairs of eyes were glued outside the bath waiting for me to come out. They both burst out laughing aloud  by the transformation and the moment I looked in the mirror I too did the same . My first reaction was that I resemble "Quick Gun Murugan" with a jet black top and matching mustache! My, what did I do to myself! I turned myself into a joker from the matured gentleman and the worst part is it can’t be washed off.  I threw myself into the vicious  circle of dye-grow-dye and keep dyeing till............till substantial hairs remain on my head.  

Well, now I am looking forward to my next visit to the barber and wait for the glee on his face at my modified top.

 Even as I finish typing this, the feeling in my mind is…….better age gracefully and accept whatever top I have.

Konkan Sojourn

I was supposed to take my family for vacation during Diwali. Where to go, how to go, how long to go, etc..... was not finalised for reasons best known to me only. I knew that exactly during that period I will be very occupied with an assignment which will go beyond Diwali vacation. Mentally, I prepared myself for the assault which will be meted on me and at the same time, I was also checking out the calender for a weekend disappearing act from unending office work to make it up.

This happened exactly as predicted. Even on the Laxmi pujan day, I was in office. This of course resulted in lots of fire works at home without buying any. The only thing that saved my skin that time was my announcement that we definitely will be going somewhere in last week of December, positively...pukka....100%......very sure.

From then onwards, I scheduled all my work in such way that I will be free during that time, starting with sanctioning my leave as a first step. Then I wondered where to go and settled for somewhere on western coast. But when I started checking the travel booking pages, I realised there were so many like me rushing out at that time. A the same time I also realised my school alumni decided to hold the get-together around same time. Still, with the memories of previous assault fresh on my mind, I went ahead and booked an accommodation in a place called Diveagar.  I had never ever heard of this place before.  When I read the comments of various travellers who had been to that place, I felt this should be an ideal place. It was sufficiently far away from office to be called even during emergencies like "Puraa system crash hua.....turant aao" like situations. With train booking status remaining stagnant, I thought well  driving down 350 kms should be fun. Someone described the place as far away from the maddening crowd and stretches of long, less frequented beaches with betel nut palms all around........ That was enough for me. This was going to be my hideout for last week of December!!!

My better half is a great organiser when an outing is planned. The only problem is that I have to stove away half of the things put on the list. She plans like we are venturing out on an African safari and the size of luggage needs to be halved then only the travellers get some space for themselves in the car. Three bermudas, couple of T-shirts, shaving set, cell phone, charger and debit card was all I needed even if I really were to venture on an African safari. I better not describe what they were carrying. I could see almost everything from badminton racquet's to mosquito repellents.

After the usual haggling and finally after separate argument over each item, most of them went in packing and ended up in the boot leaving me some decent space for rear-viewing. It took great effort to explain to them that we are going on a short vacation and not going and setting up a residence at another place.

My daughter, aged 10, had lost atleast two days sleep due the excitement of a long drive to sea-shore, reminding me of my own childhood when I spent sleepless night before any family journey was planned. She kept asking umteen questions about the trip right from the moment we told her about it. She could barely wait for the day to arrive.........

And finally the D-day arrived or rather the V-Day for me arrived when I could just forget the whole world and immerse myself in nature. I really didn't mind the 9 hour drive of about 350 kms to my destination. In fact, I too was taking a break, a real break, after long time and was looking forward to this since last two years or so. But due to hectic schedule at work and home it simply never happened. Then we made up our minds, come what may at least one annual break is to be planned henceforth. The more farther  the better. If we keep putting it off, it will never happen. The idea is just to fix a time frame when all the concerned members are free and then work out later on the destination, etc. If we try to plan too meticulously, it never materialises. This I  have learnt from all the great plans made earlier. They simply remained as plans.

My first leg of journey on Agra-Mumbai highway was upto Thane. A frequently travelled stretch. After Thane, we left the highway and drove towards Panvel. We began to get the feel of Konkan only after reaching Panvel with the landscape changing. The lunch break was just after Panvel at a restaurant called "Gomantak" known for his Malvani cuisine. Ah! Thats the way to start vacation to Konkan side with desi murgi and sol kadhi. The taste still lingers on as I write this...hmmmmmm.......yummy yumm! Driving down Mumbai-Goa highway was also fun filled. The roads were  perfect  and I could zoom down with no traffic snarls or bumps one normally see on my side of state. We passed through Karnala Bird Sanctuary. Such a nice dense spot, no wonder, the birds preferred to make this their sanctuary. Kids were thrilled at the sight of monkeys on road side, who I think sat their regularly for goodies offered to them by regular travellers on this route. After 5 pm or so, I had to take a diversion from the highway and hit the smaller road. I steered the car with a bit of apprehension, as most small roads were supposed to be nightmarish. To my utter surprise, these were more beautiful. Wow! Ghats, hairpin bends and a smooth tarmac, though not as wide as the national highway. But it did add to my driving pleasure and whatever fatigue had set in from morning just disappeared with the sight of konkan landspace. Now I was just eager to reach the lands end and stare at the Arabian sea. I kept glancing at the watch to see whether I could make it before sunset. But the last stretch was a bit bumpy and I knew I will be missing the sunset. Finally at around 6, I reached Diveagar, the small coastal village and headed straight for the beach. The sight was great with lots of light even after the sun was down. The vast stretches of sand, swishing of warm salt water surf and the sea breeze on face..........Wow! At that point of time, I really envied those living by the sea.  The folks on eastern coast can kick-start their day, sans cloudy days of course, with a beautiful view of sun rising above the waves.  And those on western coast, after a hard day, watch the golden globe gracefully setting down the horizon.  All others in between like me,  really need to make great effort to be there once in a while.

Next three days were bliss.  The cell was kept on silent mode and checked very occassionally for any calls worth calling back.  The room thankfully had no TV.  So the isolation from urban life was near-total. The small drives by shore side roads to couple of temples around were great.  Half a day was spend at Janzira fort by a ferry-ride.  We were lucky to even sight some dolphins frolicking happily in morning sun.  All the remianing time was spend sloshing in waves.  The quality of sleep I got there was simply rejuvenating.  

On all days of my stay there, I visited the local Sree Ganesha diety there.  And while returning back, I once again stepped in there and while bowing down and praying for a safe journey back, I made up my mind to visit Diveagar again with more time on hand to spend there.  And this is just the beginning of Konkan, there is much more as you go down south......... Hmmm hope vacation time returns early.

New Delhi - Really "New" now

I got a chance to visit New Delhi recently in connection with office work.  From my earlier two experiences of "Bharat Ki Rajdhani",  I braced myself for the torture I will be facing  during my stay of over two weeks there.

My last visit to national capital was  9 years ago in year 2000.

Going back down the memory lane, I remember very well the feeling of apprehension that took over me the moment my train chugged into New Delhi Railway Station 9 years back.  Before leaving home, I was thoroughly made to rehearse the "Do's and Dont's" when in Delhi......like :

• Always pretend that you are a regular visitor there and keep your facial expression such as "Oooof....aaj yeh train itni late Q chaal raahi hai.....Mujhe aage ki bus pakadni hai....."
• Never ever accept anything to eat or drink from anyone....mind again.....anyone. Even if it is prasad of your favourite God, just don't touch it. It might be laced with anything.
• Never look into the eyes of autorikshawala, taxiwala, porter or any human kind who will be all over you even before you step out of the platform. Just breeze through the crowd by any means, pushing, shoving, trampling over them...anything...but never make an eye contact with them. Chances are you may be hypnotised to accept their great offer and you will be taken for a memorable ride.
• Go and announce your destination only at the Police manned "Pre-Paid Taxi Auto" which seems to be the best option to take you to your destination alive and kicking.

Now imagine how a person's face will look like when he has all such things on his mind.  Try as much as I could, to keep a poker face, after alighting from the train.....a cross section of society representing auto drivers, taxi drivers, porters, guides, godmen, beggars, etc. zeroed in on me, their faces alight with the knowledge that a new "Bakra" has arrived to be taken for a memorable ride.  They are, I was convinced then, far more better at reading body-language without the aid of all the pages written in several books on this subject.  Somehow I found myself out of the station and hurried towards the Pre-paid booth supervised by a Traffic constable.  I always wondered where all the dacoits of Chambal Valley went after they found looting a bit un-economical when all there was to loot was already looted by them in nearby towns. The moment I saw the faces of all the taxi-auto drivers, the answer stuck me! They rehabilated themselves as auto-taxi drivers in New Delhi, and what more, they carry on the same job more smoothly now with no fear of being found themselves unemployed or without revenue.

Perhaps the fact that I flashed my "sarkari" identity card, prompted them to allot me a taxi and I proceeded towards my boarding place in a contraption that looked straight out of 1971 Indo-Pak war. The sounds it made while starting itself was enough to make people scamper away from it. Some tough cookies who didn't budge from its path were taken care by honking continously supplemented by choiest curses in hindi, punjabi, haryanvi depending on their appearance.  The traffic snarls were unending.  The air around was so thick that one could take in a handful from the window and smell it again for details.  The people to whom you asked for directions took great pleasure in seriously giving ones taking you exactly to opposite of where you want to go. But since the taxi was pre-paid the driver added some more expletives and double-checked the way because anyway not a single rupee would be added to the already decided fare.

I offerred prayers very sincerely to all the Gods up above, when I finally threw down my luggage in my hotel room and joined few other colleagues from other offices.  With some time still on hand, we promptly decided to go and watch a late night movie at a nearby theatre. When we were on the verge of stepping out of the hotel, the manager enquired where we were going and almost screamed at us in a grandfatherly manner to get back and sleep in our rooms. "Hum Delhi mein rah ke, kabhi late night show ko nahi jate. Aap ko theek thaak wapas aana hai ya nahi?" After that none of us ever made the suggestion of late night movies and even began to dread the broad daylight ones!

There were several suprises in store during the stay.  The power scenario was grim.  I wondered what treatment the person coming to check up the power meter must be getting from the consumers. Or whether there was any need for him to come and take the reading, when the meter never moved during the few hours when they actually had power flowing through the cables.  Finding a reasonable restaurant was like searching for an oasis in desert of "thelas" which was the most preferred point even by well-dressed office goers to munch on something to sustain the day.  And even if we did find one, the rates were exhorbitant enough to make you lose all your appetite.

With all this flashing back in my mind, I readying myself for another encounter with New Delhi of 2009, with only difference that instead of chugging into a station, I landed at Palam airport hoping to find same scenario outside the airport.

But I really was in for a surprise. I could not believe the smooth passage from pre-paid booth to better maintained Van and even more better looking taxi driver, who didn't resemble a dacoit but was more closer to someone selling movie tickets in black rates.  Well surprise, surprise and more surprises. The ride went without hitches and only an occassional honk was all that the driver needed to breeze through the traffic on wide tree lined roads. And the air? Wow there really was air around which you could breath!!!  Then I began to look closer and notice the great transformation that has taken place since my last visit 9 years ago. New Delhi did look NEW ! 

Someone really woke up to the grim situation and turned around New Delhi from where it was heading to.  The credit I suppose must go to several agencies working in tandem. The traffic was smoother. The Green Buses with large windows was a great sight as compared to smoke belching rattlers strung together and held in place perhaps by the commuters themselves! The shift to CNG fuel for auto, taxi and bigger modes of transport really did the trick.  The power didn't go so frequently. And moreover, in almost every market there was a decent eating place which didn't empty your wallet. I will never forget the tasty chicken stuff I devoured at "Manjit Chicken" in Hari Nagar area.  And what else, I really enjoyed my stay there.  Shopping, eating out, going out for a stroll, getting into auto without fear of being looted.......

I thank all the good souls responsisble for this turn-around of national capital.  I even look forward to going to Really-New-Delhi again,  and catch up with my several buddies who have settled there, which was unthinkable before August-2009.

Murgi Tales

If we have to divide the whole mankind in only two parts, then there is no better criteria than Vegetarians and Non-vegetarians!!!

Since time immemorial, this great debate as to  what is more nourishing to humans as food,  must be going on. And perhaps it will continue till our planet is inhabited by our species.

Lunch time at office is one great place to kick-off such a debate......and one took place today. The stage was set and the first round gong went off when I remarked "Wow! Aise mausam mein, garam garam murgi curry khane mein kitna maaza ata."  Thats it! Out of four eating on the same table, two were hardcore veggies and two of us were, well kind of people will devour any creature as long as it is palatable. The veggies sneered at the thought of eating "garam garam murgi.....you are all paapi log......pata nahi kaise khate ho....etc.....etc....and the regular stuff came out of their munching mouths. I gave a glance at my partner and taking cue we both ferociously went into argument defending our turf with all the curry and spice we could muster from ourselves!

It goes without saying, we had high energy level for this kind debate. Obviously, all the high protein, high fibre diet from years have made our skins tough as leather for such situations. 

The veggies kept on ranting : Why?!? Why??? is there any need to kill birds, animals and fish to keep you going on. Can't you guys just be happy with green leafy vegetables and all the wonderful variety of fauna growing on surface of mother earth??!! Why commit the crime(??) of killing innocent fellow creatures??!!?? After the initial few rounds, the veggies were looking quite cheerful at the bashing, until the final round started......

I took a deep breath and set off as cool as a refrigerated chicken......

I said "Well folks enough of spinach and potatoes from you." "Just stretch your imagination a bit and presume for the moment that this world is full of pure vegetarians who will lovingly cuddle every chicken that crosses the street and not mentally strip them of all its feathers and see it kept temptingly on a platter." What will happen then? If all the murgi's are allowed to hatch their eggs which keep coming at regular intervals,  shortly there wont be any place to keep them or feed them. Then where do you think they will head for.  All the grain stored on this earth will not be enough to feed them even for a week. And what about goats. If all of them were allowed to live their full life span, your lovely farms will vanish before your eyes before you say Aaloo-Gobi. The same goes for more voracious meat providing animals who thrive on grass for their meals."

These bird and animals multiply very fast and very shortly every town will be filled with them. So in fact the non-vegetarians are doing a great favour and keeping the balance of nature and prevent a great mayhem on this earth. Veggies are getting their food, because the farms have survived from slaughter from mouths of these grass eating animals. And to talk of sea food, the water bodies will not even feel the pinch if a fraction of them are cooked and eaten by humankind.

After receiving this, I think we did'nt have to wait for the final gong and the announcement of result of the bout. Clearly, they were licking their wounds. One of them even looked like he will not refuse a piece of Chicken Tandoor if it was offered to him next time.

I am sure that the topic will never be raised again on that table for long long time.

Long live Murgi's, and of course, Murgi eaters and their kind!

Zooming above waves from Bandra!

For years, Mumbaikars were glued to the this particular spot under the flyover between Bandra and Mahim. The place from where the work of Bandra-Worli Sea Link (now dubbed BWSL even though Hon Minister for Agriculture proposed to be named after Rajiv Gandhi). Gradually the structure took shape and four years beyond the scheduled time, one side of this link is officially declared open on 30th June 2009 by Chairperson of UPA Smt Sonia Gandhi.

The city was buzzing from morning of the day of her arrival. Cops were standing in attention at all major traffic junctions, all clean shaved, shoes shining, uniforms pressed (maybe twice  to get the perfect crease). I have to cross the airport on the way to my office and was unfortunate to get stuck for good 20 minutes near the signal near my office to allow the convoy of wailing vehicles to pass through to receive her at airport. 

The tall structure of the link from which n number of cables webbed out and spanned a good part of the bridge, could be seen from the upper floors of my office. Whenever I happened to be on upper floors, I would gaze seaward and imagine myself zipping on a bike on this marvelous engineering feat on a bike with a pillion rider (definitely not a male one ! ) with the breeze wizzing on my face and the long hairs of my pillion rider flapping madly.

The Times of India dedicated quite a few pages of their 30th June edition for this historical event. The bridge is designed by a 77 year old gentleman, Mr. Sheshadri Srinivasan, who has to his credit several landmark bridges across the globe. The famous  Jamarat Bridge in the holy city of Mecca, is also designed by him.  

We are seeing the almost completed structure now. But I can imagine, how Mr. Srinivasan must have first picked up his pencil and started on a blank sheet. He must have perhaps stood at a window or on the promenade somewhere in Bandra/Worli and let his imagination run riot. Several images must have flashed in his mind and finally a visualisation of the current structure must have taken root in his mind. A set of rough thoughts in form of impulses in his brain. Wow! It surely takes lot of creativity, coupled with conviction to finalise the design of such a fabulous structure which is meant to stay for years and years and withstand the elements of nature. It has to withstand the fierce heat of Sun, the coldest winter days, the winds, rains, thunder and also the sea in all its varied moods, sometimes lapping gently on its foundation or raging against it ferociously. Above all this, the bridge will bear the brunt of the main purpose for which it is there in first place, the millions of vehicles which will gleefully zoom across its lanes day in and day out to reach their destinations.

I am sure in all this cacophony, perhaps the one who must have got the most satisfaction for a job well done, must be Mr. Sheshadri Srinivasan. Not forgetting all the thousands of others involved in the creation, like the unskilled labour just there to haul the heavy equipment and tools, the boatman who made thousands of sorties to and fro from the shore to site, the qualified engineers of various hues who must have strived in yellow helmets gazing up at scorching sun or moonlit nights with a smiling full moon on them, like the various chiefs-of-this department and that department who must be yelling orders and directions........the list will be endless. My hats off to these beings who let their small hands in creating this mammoth structure. 

Lastly, I have no words for the politicians who are basking in its glory like its is because of them that BSWL has seen light of day.........

Wide angled view

Hitting the keyboard has always been a easy thing for me. I have been doing it since I was 10 year old at my Dad's Typewriting Institute.  I literally grew up surrounded by typewriters and the constant clackaty-clak. I vividly remember the volumes of pages after pages typed by students which I had to check and point out the errors so that they reach a zero-error level or atleast few-error level. The sound striking keys still resonate in my ears. It was always words words and words. They always fascinated me since then.  Now here I am, trying out this new media of expression on a different keyboard. After working for 20 years in a government organisation, the style has undergone a bit change and it may take some time to polish it up.

This blog will see the light of day and hopefully have some followers due to some prodding and inspiration from a close friend who is also a prolific writer with amazing writing skills.   

Well, more on this will come later. Before you wonder what all this has to do with "View of view", let me get on with the string of thoughts I felt like sharing today with this first blog of mine.  I am convinced by now that how you look at things, that is, your own perspective really matters on how you deal with it.  The perspective changes, rather matures with age and so does your view.

Somehow, I always liked the view of things from above.  I always felt happy to climb on tall structures and sit there and ponder while gazing about the larger view you got.  As a kid, spending time on terrace, during day time as well as starry night, was a favourite activity.  Climbing trees came naturally to us with so much of greenery in and around the township we grew up.  Later on we graduated to cycling around and trying out the small hills around our town. Hey! The view from up there is still in my mind and the tremendous pleasure it brought about.  I learnt my lesson well. When you have a broad vision, you tend to take care of nitty-gritties in your daily grind.  When we gaze up above at the starry night, we realise how tiny we really are and of course this too broadens your view.  A snap of earth from space, or a photograph in National Geographic (I loved to go through them) taken from high altitude with a wide angle showing vast portions of greenery or even the desert sands, always stuck to my mind. 

At every juncture through my journey so far, a broader view of things did help in settling myself in a comfortable position with happiness in small things. My mind is now conditioned to paint a broad picture and it becomes easy to deal with the finer points in that frame of mind.

Well, I have to still fine tune myself to this medium.  After I fall in the groove and get the hang of it,  perhaps, the style should improve. And the best way to do it is to keep hitting the keyboard and allow my thoughts to flow freely to hone me up. My next post will decide that.