tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-52821395813319786952024-03-04T21:51:31.466-08:00musingsdiyahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07467285543383068855noreply@blogger.comBlogger204125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5282139581331978695.post-29347917567799540332018-08-02T02:37:00.000-07:002018-08-02T02:37:00.697-07:00Some Photographs From Day 1 Lonavala- Khandala<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR067M30eepG6VdexfDfC5QyC4Agk-EOCHHSKrOalym-5sLpcoWCx4jwF4tDe7Dj_E3Q3j6zp06TT2BsKdUZDzEMaLBKXhut6pmpJQmxpCXxLVKI9wIny58ywH2vPEEZWa7b4DnRsEuk7l/s1600/P_20180721_094810+-+Copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR067M30eepG6VdexfDfC5QyC4Agk-EOCHHSKrOalym-5sLpcoWCx4jwF4tDe7Dj_E3Q3j6zp06TT2BsKdUZDzEMaLBKXhut6pmpJQmxpCXxLVKI9wIny58ywH2vPEEZWa7b4DnRsEuk7l/s320/P_20180721_094810+-+Copy.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjH-CMQut6q5yWD5dyCFf6aU-PcFtoURJ7Q25ne-0dYAyvNb4Wizh5nAoFQtVZsQcokpAOPObeEu5jJNxElYhElQvG8SgIa7Q0Gyej0JsDdjHypfWtK5AJw3MskrcHAedBWvDHraquLMXJR/s1600/P_20180721_094818+-+Copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjH-CMQut6q5yWD5dyCFf6aU-PcFtoURJ7Q25ne-0dYAyvNb4Wizh5nAoFQtVZsQcokpAOPObeEu5jJNxElYhElQvG8SgIa7Q0Gyej0JsDdjHypfWtK5AJw3MskrcHAedBWvDHraquLMXJR/s320/P_20180721_094818+-+Copy.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbWQ_M2El34zt0JL5DGIMBwbJ6QAOT9uLUyChFlByZE4Jhugx6Zff6CaFNZfQ6uODddXy_vp186H1_iv_4cibYIXKI5HWnEjaJuQJFFNwqdXI8lkZEI9O2-po8p1msrDH3lSFMI4DJoKWl/s1600/P_20180721_094826+-+Copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbWQ_M2El34zt0JL5DGIMBwbJ6QAOT9uLUyChFlByZE4Jhugx6Zff6CaFNZfQ6uODddXy_vp186H1_iv_4cibYIXKI5HWnEjaJuQJFFNwqdXI8lkZEI9O2-po8p1msrDH3lSFMI4DJoKWl/s320/P_20180721_094826+-+Copy.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgayrOZ6F_6qGJq-RCVeZSiknRb7i7nRiBrrZ29d4Nqv-TERBWwQiS0sR87p5c-XV5ZbcmFu_sXz2JuCBI8gpzh-vGL9yFxc-fPyd-rCxr1Cc4XkVq4x-pXUHqivYInUL1bX5tCCtmoCG5a/s1600/P_20180721_094838+-+Copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgayrOZ6F_6qGJq-RCVeZSiknRb7i7nRiBrrZ29d4Nqv-TERBWwQiS0sR87p5c-XV5ZbcmFu_sXz2JuCBI8gpzh-vGL9yFxc-fPyd-rCxr1Cc4XkVq4x-pXUHqivYInUL1bX5tCCtmoCG5a/s320/P_20180721_094838+-+Copy.jpg" width="180" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgw4bbIWZDVjM6N0vS7ak2lMNS8LtBjJBmZpYtDbKfSgNh4_TZGUzYBBpDQAhlmjVOKrK3-gXOP4upXqe28Lreo-m6H0Nt_LBIsFWVOrGNeY3d3KnXPgKe4c2A-aEYAQRe1TYhuU8CrwE9d/s1600/P_20180721_094856+-+Copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgw4bbIWZDVjM6N0vS7ak2lMNS8LtBjJBmZpYtDbKfSgNh4_TZGUzYBBpDQAhlmjVOKrK3-gXOP4upXqe28Lreo-m6H0Nt_LBIsFWVOrGNeY3d3KnXPgKe4c2A-aEYAQRe1TYhuU8CrwE9d/s320/P_20180721_094856+-+Copy.jpg" width="180" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI7gERSXW-iVCFdoQFmPNE13-1IRgpKq_iYto_OTZpbDJRaK87c6_-nQh0Wk-FzgOtLqQB5p4Ed-F5hSanMXhkCF-gNk7I8xK-3kUMWJCdz44anTSMNErj2UoSyv1dXRCwIVqHULqDVmtS/s1600/P_20180721_095355.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI7gERSXW-iVCFdoQFmPNE13-1IRgpKq_iYto_OTZpbDJRaK87c6_-nQh0Wk-FzgOtLqQB5p4Ed-F5hSanMXhkCF-gNk7I8xK-3kUMWJCdz44anTSMNErj2UoSyv1dXRCwIVqHULqDVmtS/s320/P_20180721_095355.jpg" width="180" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4xUIpfYceVHekdhLLDT9QxZxvW5HsjMHeSvNlft5YwU_YQi1YxN7gO1vbcYQISrygDf2m4hjozZxGy08SLjGrB8oJKv5GqKctq0VjafaE-Hq27uLoNP-wkSWskb_YtReJKBIqTfHOHaNA/s1600/P_20180721_095613.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4xUIpfYceVHekdhLLDT9QxZxvW5HsjMHeSvNlft5YwU_YQi1YxN7gO1vbcYQISrygDf2m4hjozZxGy08SLjGrB8oJKv5GqKctq0VjafaE-Hq27uLoNP-wkSWskb_YtReJKBIqTfHOHaNA/s320/P_20180721_095613.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div>
The Narayani Dham temple complex Lonavala</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzxXeMPX7iPENQ35Aj8T6MuPMI43D31P_WylDNwisuOFFwc6aZmmlrI0xNT_hgd-wb08NEYm9cayFJaYs4FpThHL9uownj5LNlet8NgKWKP1ocdoXQ5_mH6mFppbgUvFABXq-M6d7arSw2/s1600/P_20180721_110137.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzxXeMPX7iPENQ35Aj8T6MuPMI43D31P_WylDNwisuOFFwc6aZmmlrI0xNT_hgd-wb08NEYm9cayFJaYs4FpThHL9uownj5LNlet8NgKWKP1ocdoXQ5_mH6mFppbgUvFABXq-M6d7arSw2/s320/P_20180721_110137.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqyuyMGmEcfMDEeX4bvTgpDzFiLoWwmJBVxWGQNaGRY1EcilhyMi_SaDHfAR_MB07MVm0yQ2RI5Z4T7ros1pJTZSnt729vXBVzGhgZirzEhNNgvZEEjwUUZSls6YXEMLt_LBllrHkz0e9A/s1600/P_20180721_110149.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqyuyMGmEcfMDEeX4bvTgpDzFiLoWwmJBVxWGQNaGRY1EcilhyMi_SaDHfAR_MB07MVm0yQ2RI5Z4T7ros1pJTZSnt729vXBVzGhgZirzEhNNgvZEEjwUUZSls6YXEMLt_LBllrHkz0e9A/s320/P_20180721_110149.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2W3unopFpQ_KoLkL1b2hA2aWPRX10AQg3FGBlRXnBX4B1V0eRdibhQpSeNkpbNEnjh1wtFkhOOYH6IP5rV6XvqX3eZgeeDowt5VK2lJF74ykqnlmkFZe3nlNPfiB6H_YPvWqnRrUi9FUJ/s1600/P_20180721_111258.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2W3unopFpQ_KoLkL1b2hA2aWPRX10AQg3FGBlRXnBX4B1V0eRdibhQpSeNkpbNEnjh1wtFkhOOYH6IP5rV6XvqX3eZgeeDowt5VK2lJF74ykqnlmkFZe3nlNPfiB6H_YPvWqnRrUi9FUJ/s320/P_20180721_111258.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhQeirOgWA2HCpyVWrWxEtiarpj4TSQyb3dbwqPHvT1px6WndPgXMXAtOwPPqyJrbGsfdWRhPTEVJd9ttgfBA2JqwE1CfrkzbXb6Z7TRBtkrIU90agMMgGf_g_oszKmcrcUKgm1whIjzZZ/s1600/P7202327+-+Copy.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: transparent; color: #0066cc; font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; margin-left: 16px; margin-right: 16px; orphans: 2; text-align: center; text-decoration: underline; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhQeirOgWA2HCpyVWrWxEtiarpj4TSQyb3dbwqPHvT1px6WndPgXMXAtOwPPqyJrbGsfdWRhPTEVJd9ttgfBA2JqwE1CfrkzbXb6Z7TRBtkrIU90agMMgGf_g_oszKmcrcUKgm1whIjzZZ/s320/P7202327+-+Copy.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiutFY3J41vcTT2YVLwJcTBz-9x_3tIvul6YRfo_o8PAocnwtdWORM9EHFnQR6DHD63PIRnTtuzavs_mi2XFGK2IiZM8Oraz3C5K8UQD9UaVLFjdA-cBA66wVSNuhdKNYOJ8ThOxJXRbA56/s1600/P7202324.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: transparent; color: #0066cc; font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; orphans: 2; text-align: center; text-decoration: underline; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiutFY3J41vcTT2YVLwJcTBz-9x_3tIvul6YRfo_o8PAocnwtdWORM9EHFnQR6DHD63PIRnTtuzavs_mi2XFGK2IiZM8Oraz3C5K8UQD9UaVLFjdA-cBA66wVSNuhdKNYOJ8ThOxJXRbA56/s320/P7202324.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqrAnXp-_RDainyhogVEoMGaX6jCuyhNFjGFtpJem_6JbiDDGsIpX_fzHURIKrCBUhhVAIWpRaPCMau_hdFIoXnb-RjNiektTq2qiqJO6rk6sDqGl_onwb17B1OtvXkzZ0xQ72iDJYdg7B/s1600/P7202329.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqrAnXp-_RDainyhogVEoMGaX6jCuyhNFjGFtpJem_6JbiDDGsIpX_fzHURIKrCBUhhVAIWpRaPCMau_hdFIoXnb-RjNiektTq2qiqJO6rk6sDqGl_onwb17B1OtvXkzZ0xQ72iDJYdg7B/s320/P7202329.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Lion's Point</div>
<br /></div>
diyahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07467285543383068855noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5282139581331978695.post-16365355105462028072018-08-02T02:16:00.000-07:002018-08-02T02:16:05.442-07:00Waterfalls and Wilderness<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
"Aati kya Khandala asks the tapori version of Aamir Khan in a movie not long back to which the sophisticated heroine rani Mukherjee replies " kya karun aake main Khandala?"to which the tapori answers "ghumenge phirenge nachenge gaayenge aaish karenge aur kya? Well, Khandala and nearby Lonavala too is a place where young boys, taporis and otherwise and girls and young couples, some with little children hang out to experience the rains, sit under some waterfalls and indulge in some climbing adventuresand get drenched together.These tourists do not ask for much by way of infrastructure from the authorities and any kind of authority or infrastructure is conspicuous by their absence here!<br />
From the time we came to Bombay and even before that, I've been humming the 'aati kya Khandala ?' song to the Mr and finallyhe gave in to the incessant ringing in his ears to plan a 2 day getaway.At the first attempt there were no train tickets available which shows how popular the spot is with the people here.Finally after a postponement we got seats in a train going to Pune from Thane whose departure time was 6am. That meant that we had to leave home at 4am to catch the local train ti Thane.After a full days' school and an evenings' packing the Mite showed rare enthusiasm, actuallynot so rare for the Mite who is perpetually enthusiastic about everything. It is his middle aged parents who showed rare alacrity, after having not travelled anywhere for a long time, by springing out of bed at 3:30 am. Inspite of heavy rainfall we found ourselves in an ola cab heading for the nearest local train station. We arrived well on time and took the 4:55 to thane. At Thane we boarded the old but comfortable chair car coach on the Pune bound train.We had a sumptuous railways breakfast of omelette cutlets and bread and settled down for the 2 and a half hour journey to Lonavala. Here our rustiness as travellers showed forth when after all this effort we fell into a deep sleep. I got up with a jerk after sometime, we had stopped at a station. I casually woke the mr up and enquired when our station was expected. He promptly asked the next person, who said "this is lonavala". There was shocked silence from us for a few seconds, then a frantic grabbing of luggage and the Mite and pell mell rush to deboard! The train left within minutes of our exit! Phew!<br />
It was raining in sheets in Lonavala and we waited under a shed at the station gate. The Mite had his raincoat but we adults hadn't got down to getting ourselves one and umbrellas were of no use. the auto rickshaw stand was a few meters from us but we still continued to wait. Finally one of the auto drivers over to the gate and picked us up from there.We were off to Mon Repos which we understood was a guest house in pristine surroundings. It was no doubt a beautiful bungalow amidst an unspoilt location, but it was lacking by way of any kind of service for the weary traveller.<br />
Firstly the check in time is 12pm, but every hotel, guest house or holiday home worth its name has a place to deposit luggage and a common toilet for those who arrive early, not so here. The Manager was in mortal terror of the owners and kept calling them for little things like where we can keep the luggage! Of the need for a bathroom the owner said, "but this is a guest house, not a hotel" as if only hotels are allowed to have one!!<br />
The owner said there was a car and driver atb their disposal that can take us around to visit the sights. The rates are reasonable for this car, but one should have a good knowledge of the sights one wishes to see as the driver will have a booking in the evening and will hurry you through the various spots. By the time the car arrived the call of nature was becoming quite urgent for me! The Mon Repos owner assured us that the first stop would be the Narayani temple where we can use the toilets!<br />
The Narayani Dham temple is more like a 5 star hotel and the lobby at the entrance has the names of doners to the temple trust displayed with contributions in lakhs and crores! The first building is the guest house and there were rows of toilets for the public. Somehow we washed and splashed some water on our faces and entered the manicured gardens which had halls and rest houses on both sides and looked like a Rajasthani palace. The authorities had stuck some plastic flowers among the bushes as the rose plants had not started flowering yet.<br />
The main temple is beautiful and affords a view of the ghats.The modak prasad was delicious. The idols of Ganesha , Lakshmi and Shiva are full of bling, shiney stones glittering from their bodies. Photographs were allowed but no selfies with the idols!<br />
Thereafter we went to Lion's point, the highest place in the region. The air was crystal clear, the wind was forceful and the roasted corn on the cob was juicy and delicious, the tea was milkyb and sweet! It was heady! Some people, lacking any good sense, have brought up two hapless camels for rides in the mist! This should be made illegal with immediate effect! We hung out for sometime and then headed off to Bhushi Dam.<br />
Now here was a natural water park setting. College kids, young scrawny boys and girls and even some families with young children and elderly people launch themselves into the tremendous force of the water coming from the high dam wall!! The tourists look after each other, there were just 2 policemen on the dam wall and the rapids created by the gushing water on the rocky hill had the general public strewn all over it at regular intervals in big and small groups! I wondered why we did not hear of any accident over here yet. The Mite quipped, "It looks more like suicide point than waterfall point!"<br />
There were hot channa, green mango and tea and vada pao stalls all around and a boy selling boiled eggs!While going up and down to and from Bhushi dam we got a glimpse of the enormous Lonavala lake and several tiny waterfalls that lead into it. there were people bathing and sitting tight under most of the waterfalls. Cars are not allowed to stop near the lake so we decided to come back later to enjoy it.<br />
We headed off to Khandala next which is about 7 to 8 kms from the Lonavala lake area. Khandala is more pristine than Lonavala and is full of natural beauty. The Monkey point is a sheer drop into the ghats and has a spectacular view of the opposite hilly terrain with waterfalls of all shapes and sizes gushing down its sides. There is no attempt to make the place safer for tourists. A few iron rods protruding out of the ground is all there is to show for the very lacklustre efforts of the authorities.It speaks volumes for the discipline of the tourists here that accidents are not frequent.<br />
Monkey point was fully covered by clouds when we got there, but a light shower ensued after which the majestic view was revealed to us.It was breathtaking! There was a group of monkeys there too, true to the name of the spot. There were some other view points ahead eg The Duke's Nose but because of the heavy cloud cover they might not have been visible to us, therefore we set off back to Lonavala. The driver was quite pessimistic and discouraged us from venturing further, later we realised he must've been eager to head back for the next set of tourists.<br />
The last stop was a highly avoidable and substandard and also overly priced wax museum in Lonavala. We learnt later that Lonavala has no less than 3 wax museums and the one we went to was the worst. The best one is the one that has a MacDonald's outlet in the same building! The only statue worth mentioning in the one we went to was that of Anna Hazare, of all people, it had a marked resemblance to the original. Lata Mangeshkar looked constipated and Modi slim and vacant. The 150Rs per head entry fee went to waste! Why would Lonavala need a wax museum, leave alone 3?? Why not spend on better roads and a minimal railing at view points for the safety and security of the visitors??There is a Dinosaur park to, which, I feel should be made illegal!! Everyone is bent on making a fact buck. There are no facilities for tourists only places to fleece them! The uncomplaining and un demanding public keep flooding in, none the less! I have the same feeling about the Mall near the Lonavala lake,a total waste!<br />
We had lunch and returned to Mon Repos, it was mid afternoon and no room had been readied for us. The Manager perpetually disappears and after a wait he casually comes by and after a lot of pleading and urging and making calls to the owner finally we got a room. Actually it was a set of twin rooms with double beds and a common attached bath. Here was enough place for my Brat Girl too, I missed my baby, studying so far away from home.The rooms had built in beds of granite and 2 chairs each but no wardrobe or table or dustbin or any shelf in the bathroom. The surroundings were of course beautiful, trees with birds chirping away and a wonderful breeze. We had to have lunch outside as the guest house has to be informed 2hours in advance if you want a meal!<br />
After a short rest we ventured out againdetermined to enjoy the lake side waterfalls. We then met our excellent auto rickshaw guy, Mr. Nilesh. I recommend him to all and sundry because he knows all the spots and he will not hurry you about. he only drives on Saturdays and Sundays but he is dependable and atuned to touristy tastes. we got dropped at the lake and enjoyed an hour or so at the waterfalls near it. Thereafter we walked to the Tricos Mallwhich has a small gaming place, a few eateries, a children's play area and a clothes shop. The cinema hall only runs shows if 4 or more tickets are bought!<br />
The Mite and the Mr played some video games and a pool hockey game while I sat around chilling.Thereafter we walked again upto the main market, had dinner qand called our friendly neighbourhood auto guy Nilesh who dropped us back to Mon Repos. We fixed a time with him to take us to Lohagarh and Bhaja caves next day. <br />
<br /></div>
diyahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07467285543383068855noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5282139581331978695.post-21988918451877376292017-07-27T00:21:00.000-07:002017-07-27T00:21:33.659-07:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<b>Where I Stand on the Issue of the Karnataka Flag and Why....</b><br />
<b><br /></b>
The essence of being Indian is the ability to juggle several identities at once; linguistic, state, religious,cultural.lateral,diagonal, horizontal and several in between!!Take me for example, who am I? Well, when I say Iam Bengali, people nod knowingly and say..."...from Calcutta...?" Well, yes, Calcutta shaped a large part of who I am, but it does not define me completely. I have lived in calcutta for about17years, I was born there, it is still home...However, I belong to, or rather my ancestors belonged to Kartikpur village in Faridpur district of what is now Bangladesh. That is our village and it still forms a big part of who I am. My thinking, my humour, my propensity to discuss bowel movements at the dinner table, all come from that part of me...the bangal or country bumpkim in Bengali (loosely).That also affects my choices of food and tastes in cuisine. However I have never been to my 'desh'. My mother has also not been there but I've heard her speak fluently in the bangal dialect with my maternal grandparents...that, however is a different story....<br />
Next, I am the daughter of a government servant. That is an identity on its own. My father worked in the Defense Estates department and therefore came in contact with the army and its ways while being posted in several different cantonments. Discipline and punctuality and a strict adherence to rules and regulations was instilled in us. I spent a considerable part of my childhood and most of my college days in Delhi as Baba was posted there. The Delhi University has also left a mark on who I am.The U Specials, the North Campus, The South Campus, 3 colleges I attended all shaped me. My group of friends from the institutions I attended enliven my life even now.<br />
The next big influence in my life has been the shift to Bangalore 10years ago. Moving here has changed my perspective towards the South of this wonderful country. Many misconceptions, many biases and assumptions have been systematically dispelled in these years. Bangalore welcomed us with open arms, I have never felt for a moment that I do not belong here, or that I do not know the language. At firs tI thought that the language will be totally unfathomable, but in fact there are several Sanskrit words used in Kannada that can be understood without difficulty.My Landlord and his family spoke in Hindi or English, so did the shopkeepers and auto drivers. The first Kannada word I learnt was 'Ba' which means come and then the more respectful one 'Banni'. Since then I have really 'come' a long way in assimilating myself into this fascinating city.I still only have a smattering of Kannada, but that has not hampered in making me feel a sense of belonging to the city of Bangalore. Ofcourse I have heard and read about the North Indian phobia and the language Nazis but have not encountered them, thankfully.<br />
During the first year in Bangalore,I noticed a flag with the colours of the East Bengal football club of Calcutta, yellow and orange, fluttering about all over the place. I was impressed, wondering how Kannadigas came to be a fan of this club!! Being a Bangal (originally hailing from East Bengal), I was a follower of this club as most Bangals are. The symbolic fish for this club is the illish machh as opposed to the chingri for Mohan Bagan, the team of the Ghotis or those originally from West Bengal...that's yet another story! Anyhow, I realised my mistake sooon enough, it was the flag of the Karnataka State!! On special festive days like the Karnataka Rajyotsava (1st November, when Karnataka attained Statehood), these flags are brandished all over the place and the city looks like Calcutta when East Bengal has won in a match against their arch rivals, Mohan Bagan!!I quite liked that!<br />
Last year, when the erstwhile Tamil Nadu Chief Minister still walked upon this earth and was making life miserable for Karnataka on the Kaveri water sharing issue, which led to bad blood against Tamils in Karnataka, I found the flag being used in a novel manner. Political tension between the states led to the unleashing of anti social elements by the politicians. These mobs started pelting stones at Tamil establishments in the city. Scores of Tamillians were ill-treated due to no fault of theirs and these episodes culminated in the burning of several buses of a Tamil owned travel company. Unfortunately, a political classes ever ready to vitiate the atmosphere and spread hatred is always present in all corners of India! After the first few days of stone pelting, shopkeepers and restaurant owners began to paste the Karnataka flag upon their establishments, specially the ones with glass facades. This discouraged the stone throwers and allowed the generally easy going population to have their kaapi in peace!<br />
The question of a separate flag has arisen a few times before during my stay in Bangalore. It has got a fresh lease of life now after the question of having Hindi in Namma Metro sign boards. The BMTC buses, used by all sections of the Bangalore population,including non-Kannada speakers,have signs in only Kannada and English.No one has complained about that, so the opinion that as the Metro is used by non Kannadas, and non English reader, it has to have Hindi signs, does not hold good.Even in Calcutta, buses and the Metro has 2 languages, Bangla and English.Why impose a trilingual sign upon the South? This leads to The North Indian misconception of the scripts of the South as being completely inscrutable. My friend who is a non Bengali, living in Calcutta for more years than I have,once declared that she could read Bengali! I was incredulous! When a mini bus ambled along, she said, "..that's Esplannade to Anwarshah road ( or some such)..!"I was taken aback! Well, she travelled by bus everyday from college and had picked up the Bengali letters printed upon mini buses. Can't we learn some Kannada in this manner? Is that so bad a thing? Why should everything be adjusted for the convenience of the Hindi speaker/reader? Afterall, Karnataka is part of our country, we live and work here...I live in an area where there are a large number of Rajasthanis who are settled in Karnataka for generations, they speak fluent Kannada and ofcourse Hindi, I love that. I love the fact that my children now know Kannada and a smattering of Tamil and Malayalam too...<br />
<br />
Returning to the issue of the flag, the Karnataka flag is recognized by all living in the State. it unites everybody in Karnataka irrespective of our linguistic, religious,regional and cultural differences. It is, in short, a good thing! It is not as if allegiance to the state undermines our national spirit. We in Bangalore celebrate our national holidays with gusto! The Lal Bagh botanical gardens have their flower shows in the week before 15th August and 26th January. These shows are a unique and magnificent tribute to the nation! Only the Garden City can celebrate Independence Day and Republic Day in such a wonderful manner!<br />
In this day and age of divisive, poisonous politics, we need more symbols of unity. Also, we must acknowledge the diversity that our country affords and even revel in it. How much richer we will be if we make this effort! If football clubs, religious organizations, political parties and other organizations can have flags why not the state of Karnataka?? The powers that be must realize that it is futile to beat and mould the diversity in this nation into a homogeneous whole. In fact wisdom lies in accepting this diversity wholeheartedly and making it the core faith of our nation.</div>
diyahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07467285543383068855noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5282139581331978695.post-56053272957057061712013-08-15T02:01:00.002-07:002013-08-15T02:01:36.025-07:00The Uncommon Common Man<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Shri Bijon Kumar Sengupta, my grandfather, was of average height, had the trademark spectacles of the Bengali man of letters, although he had an MA in English and wrote an engaging prose in the language, he was never heard to speak anything but his mother tongue in the bangal dialect. So simple was this man, that one time, according to an oft repeated story of his youth, he had gone out wearing a raincoat because it was raining, and was seen returning still snugly ensconced in it although the sun was shining bright to everyone's amusement. He revealed later that he could not manage to open the raincoat when the rains stopped! This endearing, simple man spent 4 and a half years in various jails of the British Raj in the late 1930s. Even later, the British police had him under surveillance when he visited his in laws' place East Bengal. At the time of his arrest his rented tenement was surrounded and broken into. His wife, my grandmother was with child at that time....My grandfather saw his first born, my jethu, after 3years when my grandmother took him to visit his father in Presidency jail. Grandfather was released in the late '30s when the revolutionary movement in Bengal was in the wane due to severe repression by the British regime and untold suffering was endured by the families of the revolutionaries. My grandmother was lucky to get the support of her maternal uncles to tide her through the difficult times. There were 1000s of others who fought on, none the less.It was the sacrifice of these 'uncommon' common people that gave us our freedom.<br />
This morning the Mr had put on the film 'Shaheed' on TV, the part on the fast in the jail for better conditions for the detainees was so moving. It spoke of the supreme power of sacrifice and a courageous adherence to principals. This was the strength of the youth of those times, otherwise how could they have striven towards such a seemingly impossible dream?<br />
My grandmother never portrayed her husband as a hero, all the incidents related to him that she ever recounted pointed to and reinforced the fact that he was a simple man. Incidents of his arrest and of him being followed by the police during his visit to his inlaws' place were recounted in a matter of fact manner. It was for us to absorb these facts and realise, over time, how heroic and brave was this 'common' man and his family. How firmly he stood behind his principals, how tenacious was his perseverance, how selfless was his dedication to this nation. He had never sought any recognition or 'compensation'. Him and his kind have brought us our freedom. Our freedom must be celebrated for their sakes, our freedom is pure and blessed due to them. I salute all these 'uncommon' common people of this great nation.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIluzr-ntNfOBh_87KOVKofz274fgvzk_3Pewn66e67zVdERcmNs08w-NM6fFx141wgrUbwZyDaON6kTM50aoWNP_90eGnrauaAZTBAy164YhgSaHdqXRSrW_RsBfN_hWcWs7tMHQwnwV_/s1600/Picture+029.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="232" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIluzr-ntNfOBh_87KOVKofz274fgvzk_3Pewn66e67zVdERcmNs08w-NM6fFx141wgrUbwZyDaON6kTM50aoWNP_90eGnrauaAZTBAy164YhgSaHdqXRSrW_RsBfN_hWcWs7tMHQwnwV_/s320/Picture+029.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKi35rKtiSdVKQiP1edaCdBHSLyV0otl6AhyphenhyphenUC0l432slXFMGVgOUhGlYOJOQOFw0J4lgGChabnSjX_qZ3bVxv3k9VT6hZoSaho_BiEeZ0y8L8We2eHmrfORS34TeOZzYOSgNdjvoh06zD/s1600/Picture+090.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="247" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKi35rKtiSdVKQiP1edaCdBHSLyV0otl6AhyphenhyphenUC0l432slXFMGVgOUhGlYOJOQOFw0J4lgGChabnSjX_qZ3bVxv3k9VT6hZoSaho_BiEeZ0y8L8We2eHmrfORS34TeOZzYOSgNdjvoh06zD/s320/Picture+090.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBtzQb1Gz6aH5bFIf0-1B7mRU3dV97BhRj8xtwwchAaIVFPUyOy4fTLcmdw1jl_wLkxzkZhk1z3w5dVg01ipRHRugDbOdthJ18nut15meYQqWQzyj3AckjZEsPAIwx-SU1OgUZrB-NUKMN/s1600/Picture+102.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBtzQb1Gz6aH5bFIf0-1B7mRU3dV97BhRj8xtwwchAaIVFPUyOy4fTLcmdw1jl_wLkxzkZhk1z3w5dVg01ipRHRugDbOdthJ18nut15meYQqWQzyj3AckjZEsPAIwx-SU1OgUZrB-NUKMN/s320/Picture+102.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCSOBgMSy-52_UiU43xXX7cS3mPCWKB4OZhnJIJxm7tioYYR1_WbAkfVOWTbIy8zY8dsuwNA181lQWXn6FAf5QckIFNY9iyJwDvkUQdCwboZ8yS-YdJl7hCfpCdJNujQyImqVFiZ26jW8l/s1600/Picture+281.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCSOBgMSy-52_UiU43xXX7cS3mPCWKB4OZhnJIJxm7tioYYR1_WbAkfVOWTbIy8zY8dsuwNA181lQWXn6FAf5QckIFNY9iyJwDvkUQdCwboZ8yS-YdJl7hCfpCdJNujQyImqVFiZ26jW8l/s320/Picture+281.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
diyahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07467285543383068855noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5282139581331978695.post-40860245743355736802013-01-26T21:29:00.001-08:002013-01-26T21:29:28.113-08:00Some Photos of the event - 'Yamini'<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPnLqbasUUGJWUFDRzFKBkEEy_n6kYM6Nz4b3ge9oo42nnwVS7xxrG40LrpUJBmk33M210W4OmwldyhBOqYzSnvfX4-d30u9WVWGVdgBr_DgyXX4fovtS17bGY9Sqn1KcORlesqXeJ0kt2/s1600/P1250783.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPnLqbasUUGJWUFDRzFKBkEEy_n6kYM6Nz4b3ge9oo42nnwVS7xxrG40LrpUJBmk33M210W4OmwldyhBOqYzSnvfX4-d30u9WVWGVdgBr_DgyXX4fovtS17bGY9Sqn1KcORlesqXeJ0kt2/s320/P1250783.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh083GKqnwRmmDTJmrZt61DDmpZneKgUd2dhCVLAND__CrS3ZdtYsaQnvtY7I3glBsvYwM7j6HWeAoiP3QJAsJNRDxhQDPwmItkiBr54owdBCDGyuyiMn3qsoroU6LAB2I_jtjKdi_HY-Ys/s1600/P1250794.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh083GKqnwRmmDTJmrZt61DDmpZneKgUd2dhCVLAND__CrS3ZdtYsaQnvtY7I3glBsvYwM7j6HWeAoiP3QJAsJNRDxhQDPwmItkiBr54owdBCDGyuyiMn3qsoroU6LAB2I_jtjKdi_HY-Ys/s320/P1250794.JPG" width="320" /></a><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnXsCU9iVDcath_6CEYG1yR6j4VikoBB_2W9km20p-hbOxaxbSxbvFknxcL9Q9T9Bcwk6AnFVc71y3l6pSEH9T28u3KlFZDQzj7dwI5wh_czHvfJcF2v56N1CRJaZ1eRfVduzzz-t3np8M/s1600/P1260804.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnXsCU9iVDcath_6CEYG1yR6j4VikoBB_2W9km20p-hbOxaxbSxbvFknxcL9Q9T9Bcwk6AnFVc71y3l6pSEH9T28u3KlFZDQzj7dwI5wh_czHvfJcF2v56N1CRJaZ1eRfVduzzz-t3np8M/s320/P1260804.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi941Pwzu3ffrx91EeW6LHKA7KuCL4ZM0x48dHG7Sm0eT8Z_s1mFUSMcQhOjccqTGoXCglRcTcY3vpSaYIHD8pu0T3FQK7ZE3nCJf-7OWSzTtknus9tsRPiydooqniRXbVT9Qm_laALTmNn/s1600/P1260814.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi941Pwzu3ffrx91EeW6LHKA7KuCL4ZM0x48dHG7Sm0eT8Z_s1mFUSMcQhOjccqTGoXCglRcTcY3vpSaYIHD8pu0T3FQK7ZE3nCJf-7OWSzTtknus9tsRPiydooqniRXbVT9Qm_laALTmNn/s320/P1260814.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUg8MlG0iln-r7zWUbyjLzdgNd6TT-DqRcdz7RhY2efAJaEq_KEIbYUaY2jLDOaIi6Dh8gM0hSxA3shYYbEQ7RPT-gfu-rNAIvMv-m0nb7WhWrTnzn5VWZ39AYnFJ1ppzBJ6v-Ghr5-8lj/s1600/P1260817.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUg8MlG0iln-r7zWUbyjLzdgNd6TT-DqRcdz7RhY2efAJaEq_KEIbYUaY2jLDOaIi6Dh8gM0hSxA3shYYbEQ7RPT-gfu-rNAIvMv-m0nb7WhWrTnzn5VWZ39AYnFJ1ppzBJ6v-Ghr5-8lj/s320/P1260817.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br /></div>
diyahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07467285543383068855noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5282139581331978695.post-8835927717598493642013-01-26T10:21:00.002-08:002013-01-26T10:21:52.651-08:00All Night Magic With Dance and Music<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Attended the SPIC MACAY cultural fest 'Yamini' at IIM B last evening, it was soulful, surreal and utterly mesmerising as performer after performer kept us glued to our seats (rather mattress) and evening turned into early morning without us being aware of the passage of time. I must thank my nephew A, for telling us about this event. The Mr and I arrived bright and early in the venue a bright moon was in the sky and the place was nearly empty. Huge mattresses were placed in front of the podium (it was an open air event) and blankets and shawls were placed in rows on the mattresses. There were rows of chairs too, at the back.We settled ourselves in the second row on the mattress behind two gentlemen and watched the place slowly fill up, it was a wonderful scene awash with moonlight and anticipation.<br />
<br />
The first performance was Bharatnatyam recital by Mallika Sarukkai, a lady of great grace and elegance. She presented 3-4 short pieces. The one on 'Maricha vada' was the most dramatic and vigorous.I was under the impression that Sita had asked Ram for the golden deer to keep as a pet, however, in this piece Sita is asking for the hide of the beautiful deer, which shows Sita in pretty bad light in this day and age of conservation and preservation of nature and wildlife. In this interpretation, temptation and yearning for a thing that is out of reach brings out the worst in Sita...Ram also blesses maricha when he demon falls at his feet and the Gods celebrate the bringing into the fold of another 'non-believer' inspite of the fact that his call to Lakshman in Ram's voice would get Sita and the brothers into a lot of trouble. Somehow this interpretation brings to the fore the problems that I have with the story of the epic at several levels. The most entertaining of the pieces was a raunchy and life like interpretation of 'the lady with the parrot' in which the gathered audience showed no interest. The story showed a beautiful woman playing with her parrot and bedecking herself. Her lover knocks at the door, she opens the door in her own time, listens to her lover's false excuses for coming late and throws him out. She returns to her parrot and prefers its company! 'What is the cage and who is the parrot?' asked the danseuse...no one answered or cared. They were all busy asking her to perform the silly and worn to bits 'thumaki chalata Ram Chandra' even though the lady said that the 'lady with the parrot' was more 'her', so to say....Anyhow I made several guesses as to what the cage and parrot is but could not get the answer from her!! While coming to her hotel from the airport, the lady said, she saw a boy wearing a T-shirt with the line 'Dance is the Language of the Soul', she proves this with her dedication and involvement with her art. She says, many a times people have asked her 'what do you do other than dance...' , or 'is this your hobby?' implying that 'dance' cannot be a vocation, however, there are many artistes who dedicate themselves solely to dance and are content to perform, practice and enjoy dance for its own sake<br />
<br />
The next performance was a violin recital of the brother sister duo Lalgudi GJR Krishnan and Lalgudi Vijayalakshmi. They are a delightful pair with two very talented percussionists in their troop. They played several compositions including a playful jugalbandi kind of thing which I liked the best.<br />
<br />
Next was the turn of the famous Pt Vishwa Mohan Bhatt inventer of the 'Mohan Veena', disciple of Pt Ravi Shankar and receiver of the grammy award. The Mohan veena is a guitar with a small sherical dome (as in a veena) added to it. Pandit ji screwed the adage on himself before the start of the performance, he has also added several strings to the instrument and makes it sound like a guitar, a sitar or a sarod at will and plays magnificent hindustani classical with great aplomb and gay abandon! He was not too pleased with the sound system here and said that the instrument sounds much better than it was doing. Good sound or not, he had us quite enthralled throughout and got into a pretty good mood himself. At one point he asked, almost pleading, 'May I play for 5 minutes more...', it was refreshing to see the humility of such a celebrity.<br />
<br />
Next was a dhrupad performance of Ustad Wasifuddin Dagar, the moon had clambered to the middle of the sky by now and was slowly moving towards the horizon. We had had a hasty dinner at one of the all night kiosks outside the venue and I was rather sleepy. I lay myself down in a huddle next to the Mr wrapped in my shawl and asked him to wake me when Bombay Jayshri came on. Now Bombay Jayshri was the reason that we had decided to watch the whole night program till the end in the first place. We did not know that she was scheduled to perform at 4am. The kids were at home with my parents in law so we were at peace (advantage of having the in laws over)! We were interested in Vishwa Mohan Bhatt to and he too came on well after midnight, so it would be utterly useless to leave at 10pm without catching the big names! Anyhow there I was curled up in a stupour after Pt V M B's performance when a gurgling sound enterd my subconsciousness. It was Ustad Wasifuddin playing with his voice, saying that every kind of sound can emanate from the human body making even instruments redundant! His was making the sound of a percussion instrument in his rendition. It was fascinating! In fact his performance was a lec-dem on the dhrupad in the true sense. Well, I could not remain supine during the rest of the performance, he delighted, intrigued, entertained and energized us for the next 2 hours! His 'Shiva' was the most resounding and proves that music knows no religion nor caste or creed.<br />
<br />
Finally it was the turn of Bombay Jayashri who is brilliant but has none of the charm nor the joyous abandon of Ustad Wasifuddin, where as the audience were actually singing with the Ustadji, he would spin a complicated taan and have the people repeat a swar at the opportune moment, it was magical! During Bombay Jayashri's cut and dried perfect and precise renditions the audience sat sober and restrained. She sung according to a pre rehearsed and perfected routine, not anything more nor less. However she is truly superb!<br />
That brought us to the end of our first all night cultural fest together, the first that I have witnessed. We tottered home at 6am having witnessed close to 12 hours of soulful music and dance. How lucky we are, even now I am playing all that I have heard over in my mind and marveling at this great experience. <br />
<br />
<br /></div>
diyahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07467285543383068855noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5282139581331978695.post-27593597087149325202012-04-26T04:31:00.001-07:002012-04-29T23:25:00.254-07:00A Memorable and Eventful Day in Ooty....<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
After the two adventurous days in Coonoor, we started planning for the optimum utilisation of our last day at Ooty before boarding the night bus back to Bangalore from there. The Brat Girl had treated herself to one of those green mangoes from one of the makeshift stalls at Lamb's rock with lots of the red masala on it and was paying the price by having to frequent the toilet at regular short intervals! She also managed to throw up the light dinner of bread and butter. We thought that we won't be able to leave Coonoor before noon. However, things started moving pretty fast after I got up by seven and had a long rejuvenating bath!! That gave me strength to quickly wake the kids and have then bathed and raring to go by 7:45. We had heard that there was a toy train at 8:30 or 9:30 ( different people had given different timings). We reached the station by 8:30 ish and was informed that the next train ( the 7: 45 one had left) would leave only at 10: 40 and the ticket counter for that would open at 10!! We decided to wait in the picturesque Coonoor station. We had breakfast and made ourselves at home on the bench next to the ticket counter. You can't buy the tickets of the toy train before hand, you have to get them half an hour before the departure of the train. We had breakfast there and watched the capers of a sparrow family who'd made their nest right above the ticket counter! A group of army cadets joined us in the wait a little later. The Mr got talking to them, they had missed the train ride on the day before because of no seats. The Mr suggested that they can easily take the bus to Ooty and that we were bothering with the train as we have kids who want to take the ride...one of the boys answered.." hum bhi thoda dekh lein....." I felt a pang for the young men, who had been children only a handful of years ago, they too were eager to take the toy train ride...<br />
Closer to 10, three Fench tourists also joined the motley crowd outside the closed ticket counter. They were flammoxed by the train charts which had the name of the station as 'Udhakamandalam', the Mr assured the alarmed elderly gentleman that this unfathomable name was actually Ooty! Well, the counter finally opened only after the train chugged in! The armymen travelled second class (tkt Rs 3) and the foreigners and we took the first class tkts of Rs 80 + 100 Rs reservation fees! Two coaches were added to the 2 coach train that had arrived and we all setteled in! The ride is soothing with sweeping valleys and hill ranges on both sides and stretches of forest too and quaint little stations with their sweet names. While crossing the Coonoor station platform, something caught my eye, the pictures of a gentleman and a lady on the wall of the gents and ladies toilet respectively! These were actually pictures of a very English gentleman, complete with top hat and necktie, and a lady in a gown holding a parasol! I checked all the loos in the stations that came along and the same 'English' representation continued till Lovedale, I think and then a very Indian lady and gent's face replaced them till Ooty. The train journey became quite thrilling on the outskirts of Ooty where the train halted abruptly and we were informed that a man was lying on the tracks! At first we heard the man was dead, then it was slowly revealed that he was alive though bruised a bit. The Mr got off and took some pictures of the hapless man! Finally an ambulence was called and the man was removed from the tracks and we breezed into Ooty at 12 noon.<br />
At the station we made a beeline for the first book shop we'd seen in these 2 and a half days ( although it was only a station push cart)! We got some picture postcards and a tourist map of Ooty and adjoining areas and a booklet on the Nilgiris. Then we took a room at a nearby hotel and after freshening up we set off to explore Ooty. We were wondered out of the lane aimlessly hoping to engage an autorickshaw to take us around ( the french tourists had also informed us that they'd take a 'tuktuk' around town that day) when we were accosted by a taxi driver who said he'd take us around for a very reasonable sum (Rs 600). We engaged him as we knew that the Brat Girl was a little wobbly and we were too tired to haggle. We stopped on the way for lunch and headed for the Botanical Gardens first. We took a leisurely after lunch walk through the place. It was beautiful. The speciality of these gardens in the hills is their terreced gardens . A section of the Ooty gardens was also terreced which was specially eye catching. Near the exist there was a shop built in the likes of a Toda hut selling different Nilgiri products. We were amazed to see in the market outside the gardens that the Ooty apples (plums) that we had bought in Coonoor were costlier here (Rs 25 to the coonoor 20) and later we found that they were not as sweet as the Coonoor ones either! There were fresh carrots too, attached to their leaves @ 10Rs for four!<br />
We informed the taxi man that we'd like to see a few out of the way (and hence more interesting) spots too and miss some of the regular points in the standard itinerary, like the tea factory or boating at the lake. We'd already had a glimpse of the lake when we entered and we had already visited a tea factory and tea gardens at Coonoor. The taxi man offered to throw in a few exciting points like the earliest Toda village from which Ooty got its name, and the 9th Mile point if we paid 500more, we readily agreed. The next stop was the Doddabetta peak which is the highest view point in Tamil Nadu and affords a view of almost all the towns around Ooty. The place really had a great panoramic view of the entire region we had just visited. We had an invigorating cup of lemon tea and gazed at the great expanse of the valleys and ranges around. a light drizzle started while we descended from the peak. The cab man took us next to the Ooty rose garden inaugurated by Jayalalitha about 7years ago. The garden was in 4tiers and there were more than 2000 varieties of roses. It was a joy walking through bed upon bed of this captivating flower in all colours and sized imaginable, and it wasn't even the season for them! While returning from the garden, our cab driver asked us how we liked the garden. We said it was very beautiful and extremely well maintained. He expressed satisfaction in our response. He lamented that mostly Indian tourists were less than impressed with the garden, they'd say that visiting it was a waste of time! One tourist had said that he had a garden better than this at his home. I laughed that this person was some kind of a 'Maharaja' perhaps! On the other hand, the driver continued, European tourists were always very impressed with the gardens! Surely many beautiful gardens adorned their countries, but they always found words of praise for this one, said the driver. While our own Indian tourists were the hardest to impress!<br />
Thereafter, we took a path less trod to go to a Toda village. The village lay on a slope, the cab man instructed us to leave our shoes near a tree and then approach their temple to which he vaguely pointed us to. For the life of us, we could not figure out which the temple might be, it seemed like a cluster of ordinary houses. There was a man ambling about near the tree, he seemed reluctant to allow us to wander into that area. When our cab man cajoled him, he relented. He made us open our shoes and he lead us to a typical hut like structure some distance up the slope. I noticed there were a couple of stone slabs stuck into the mud a few metres from the tree, I wondered what they were for... The kids tread cautiously over the wet grass of the slope strewn with what looked like crumpled buffalo dung and bits and pieces of tree barks. We were not allowed into the temple, even the Todas are not allowed inside, we were told by our guide, only the 'priest' may enter, that too in traditional gear. the others dance around in front of the structure, made entirely out of natural stuff, not even ropes are used as they are man made! The women can come no further than the stone slab on the ground! ( Ahhh! that figures! Women are always at the periphery of organised religion, and bear the brunt of religious sanctions). The temple appeared to be a place where the men could dance and be merry away from the preying eyes of the women folk, an exclusive men's club of ancient times! The guide quickly added that the women of his clan were highly educated, infact his mother, said he, was the first Toda woman graduate! We were also shown the bufallo pen made of natural materials near the temple. He told us about the antiquity of his tribe and said that the name Ooty came from a tribal name which meant 'Man with one arm..' ( ofcourse, a different meaning is given in the tourist book!) which later became Udhakamandalam, then Ootacamund and lastly Ooty.... All the lands around the place were owned by the tribe, however the local potentates swindled the tribe and took over most of their lands before the British passed a law forbidding them to sell the land off! While coming down from the slope the Mr was invited into a Toda hut by an elderly woman who showed us pictures from a brochure which depicted the participation of the Todas in cultural functions. By this time our cab driver was calling frantically for us and the first Toda lady gradute was walking up the slope, returning from her evening walk. We took our leave from the elderly woman, she asked for some money, the Mr handed Rs 10 to her, she seemed pleased! I felt sorry for the woman, living alone in the small traditional hut shaped house, an accomplished performer, perhaps, in her hay day...We met our guide's mother, she spoke in flawless English, showed us the famous Toda buffalo, so sacred and indispensable to the Todas, would have loved to stay with that lady for an entire day, but alas...They had four buffalos in their open air shed, two babies and two adults, each had a name, the buffaloes listened attentively to our conversation. They were not as black as the buffaloes in the plains and a brownish downy hair covered their bodies. While leaving, I wished that they got many more buffaloes! The lady siad that was a very good wish....<br />
Next, we stopped by at the Gymkhana club and the adjescent golf course where Hum Aapke Hain Kaun was shot, it seems. The Mr took pictures, I remained in the car with the mite, i was too overwhelmed by the Toda village! Thereafter we stopped at a majestic dam, our cab man lead us into the dam area through a gap in the wired fencing and told us to cross the dam by foot and try the echo point at the other end and meet him there. We ambled on to the dam and walked lazily down it. The valve on the other side of the dam was open and a water was coming out in a gushing force and was being lead out through a canal. We all tried the echo at the other, the mite was highly thrilled that he got an echo of his tiny voice too!<br />
We sped off next to a secluded section of the pine forests of Ooty, where Roja was shot, we were told. We trudged off into the small wood, picking up pine cones and branches and pine needles. We fooled around a bit, then headed back hearing the plaintive cries of our cab man who was plagued by his passengers' propensity to vanish into whatever place he unloaded them on to! It was really difficult to tear ourselves from the pine forest, though! We headed off, next to another spectacular view point called something -something..Ninth Mile ( try as we may, we cannot remember what preceeded 9th mile!). This was a lightly inclined hillock which afforded a view which had pristine ranges and valleys and unadulterated woodlands on all sides. There was no town, no city, no cultivation and no sign of habitation all around, the sun was setting fast, or else we would have liked to spend more time here. I got a message on my cellphone welcoming me to Kerala! so this must've have been near the Kerala border somewhere, it was a grand end to our adventurous tour.<br />
We headed back to Ooty town we stopped at the lake as our driver had promised to take us to a tea n natural oils shop near the lakeside. the shop was closed, we then headed back to the bus stop from where we had boarded our taxi. The Amman festival procession was due to arrive at any moment, we stopped at a shop near our hotel and bought teas and natural oils and chocolates. We staggered off to the hotel freshened up and hurried to the main road again to catch a glimpse of the procession which had men dressed up as Nag devta, Saraswati, and a mother goddess similar to durga, Amman. We had a hearty dinner at a Chinese restaurant which had the unique system of having the customers write out their order on a small pad, to avoid hapless waiters from getting thoroughly confused by the indecision of fumbling diners, I am sure!<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgojk4myuBwtRX1dDcyw8wgPTEs8zhqurLmwjKbCrljn5pcdZeQmpgGS-d46l1BfjrBLRQfnwkYIA3W2WMw6sgjYSeOshjOW27TRO-w15m_NG1kCt78am14XtNE8qmetRnKUaAAMBGNNbQf/s1600/P4160298.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgojk4myuBwtRX1dDcyw8wgPTEs8zhqurLmwjKbCrljn5pcdZeQmpgGS-d46l1BfjrBLRQfnwkYIA3W2WMw6sgjYSeOshjOW27TRO-w15m_NG1kCt78am14XtNE8qmetRnKUaAAMBGNNbQf/s320/P4160298.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL9sF4xBNhlsYKXYRipYRjkovIYcRM95cYcOBHRyD5B4HiXnV99qTyAck4mVlQVvqsUXQA5sg6GFEArS9QSzshTiDYH_pR1vGERdvO9643Ybdjs2Cyd31EGPuQTCGsvYFuTjOCkyDqWHe9/s1600/P4150087.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL9sF4xBNhlsYKXYRipYRjkovIYcRM95cYcOBHRyD5B4HiXnV99qTyAck4mVlQVvqsUXQA5sg6GFEArS9QSzshTiDYH_pR1vGERdvO9643Ybdjs2Cyd31EGPuQTCGsvYFuTjOCkyDqWHe9/s320/P4150087.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDA65vXFP5LOn9BXfmdTKE2Yf91-rhMkSxX8nXEPu5qcxM_ZL_QIe1ZvaA7eGaVEMpxo_lDiwTlsmT0JbhB8WuSwg96P_Gv9Y9x77t7WpEHfHDHLUyItRF1-X3W0Xpm-71MwfNOArf8n1_/s1600/P4150126.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDA65vXFP5LOn9BXfmdTKE2Yf91-rhMkSxX8nXEPu5qcxM_ZL_QIe1ZvaA7eGaVEMpxo_lDiwTlsmT0JbhB8WuSwg96P_Gv9Y9x77t7WpEHfHDHLUyItRF1-X3W0Xpm-71MwfNOArf8n1_/s320/P4150126.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8GnfL07Wu3C1q5RpMTarLbVMjD5R_zJ1HLQ6dHwTdPHoVjwCzRnEyPVew9aspjs49k77OUz3lmm0oAqDrBo_MVl6GF9Dd0O2gcnWRe6s1TxcKHFThc3EuvKIFF3vq_UurzxyntdkzG9JA/s1600/P4150127.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8GnfL07Wu3C1q5RpMTarLbVMjD5R_zJ1HLQ6dHwTdPHoVjwCzRnEyPVew9aspjs49k77OUz3lmm0oAqDrBo_MVl6GF9Dd0O2gcnWRe6s1TxcKHFThc3EuvKIFF3vq_UurzxyntdkzG9JA/s320/P4150127.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2VlNl-Dpw6a041gXEZ_qlx98inDLOZvPrfzKA-_5vKtXFTOO3ADeeSJImyWeFKAws6i02bytFfFgZBRU3YSjdbVWSMp7-myxsVJ0Eii34ItCccyVGvS1mLr47JJf7irLW62DhKyAusK2q/s1600/P4160161.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2VlNl-Dpw6a041gXEZ_qlx98inDLOZvPrfzKA-_5vKtXFTOO3ADeeSJImyWeFKAws6i02bytFfFgZBRU3YSjdbVWSMp7-myxsVJ0Eii34ItCccyVGvS1mLr47JJf7irLW62DhKyAusK2q/s320/P4160161.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhguY4RT40YB_zZYdiT2c7iEHeABEtrMoEooQrrtW61y2Nj3_d7mjOxIvRkTnQjTHi70s0NorW3Hn0qiVyR_tkv3iAXLCzBVKZU_vGwECbnJ2IFmkq9n5pW0Bpljt1WMdgPOnuwkzKCM4jM/s1600/P4160201.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhguY4RT40YB_zZYdiT2c7iEHeABEtrMoEooQrrtW61y2Nj3_d7mjOxIvRkTnQjTHi70s0NorW3Hn0qiVyR_tkv3iAXLCzBVKZU_vGwECbnJ2IFmkq9n5pW0Bpljt1WMdgPOnuwkzKCM4jM/s320/P4160201.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBowSHrtpEqjmb9x4UUYly08ztndGZ47Q8z5Dx9yW05dComZVb0mIyaG9mKv3v5YrxmQfsrrchP045CTqJaTVmxoxRRATrkA4Xc41eaESZ1BWi3sKYz-ufsaIhhz0GU_i7UTGyNyeQjuLY/s1600/P4160216.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBowSHrtpEqjmb9x4UUYly08ztndGZ47Q8z5Dx9yW05dComZVb0mIyaG9mKv3v5YrxmQfsrrchP045CTqJaTVmxoxRRATrkA4Xc41eaESZ1BWi3sKYz-ufsaIhhz0GU_i7UTGyNyeQjuLY/s320/P4160216.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifANnD_6_j47uf1ueGM6csSqiw1p5tI9FjuTuZTBzKrC94BQP9LrZ_hphj1YiDGuO2ZhiVQQy_phFo1jWm5Yuu_TOe-o2KvSEqahOiRXFypkAQxML0GSn2L2liniQNH11v7TPfVEAQyHGS/s1600/P4160209.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifANnD_6_j47uf1ueGM6csSqiw1p5tI9FjuTuZTBzKrC94BQP9LrZ_hphj1YiDGuO2ZhiVQQy_phFo1jWm5Yuu_TOe-o2KvSEqahOiRXFypkAQxML0GSn2L2liniQNH11v7TPfVEAQyHGS/s320/P4160209.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
We boarded the night bus happy, contented and completely satiated. However we do hope to go back to Ooty again, it is the closest the South will have to a classic North Indian hill station. The town is congested but there are still numerous wonderful scenic places to be explored and enjoyed. </div>diyahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07467285543383068855noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5282139581331978695.post-8419534988537381662012-04-20T04:35:00.001-07:002012-04-20T05:14:53.941-07:00Hilly Sojourn: Coonoor- Ooty<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNNY2erdIGxFndbMptDC6TYgs3ZfyNbumkcaK2KqIDWuJoh6iQen1eY3yocu8XLT7VPdF13OYhdulohZ5f0adPBCOYGZz-JxJwbVfTSDy58x0PVj0WalcPrwLtQ790rM9ek16ssRScumW2/s1600/P4140001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="300" width="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNNY2erdIGxFndbMptDC6TYgs3ZfyNbumkcaK2KqIDWuJoh6iQen1eY3yocu8XLT7VPdF13OYhdulohZ5f0adPBCOYGZz-JxJwbVfTSDy58x0PVj0WalcPrwLtQ790rM9ek16ssRScumW2/s400/P4140001.JPG" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibRFciOEmP9jbm2-OBufPKXh2A-K16A73HjN-kq5Ewk4WBU7bM1AB9aV8xk5vUGoQyNInBSFPcTIBsowZzuyL307mHJn9M4xXuCtyXnKa0VIma4nUgF7Ctz7c2NaApYMrvDVWIeUot_Ei5/s1600/P4140010.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="400" width="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibRFciOEmP9jbm2-OBufPKXh2A-K16A73HjN-kq5Ewk4WBU7bM1AB9aV8xk5vUGoQyNInBSFPcTIBsowZzuyL307mHJn9M4xXuCtyXnKa0VIma4nUgF7Ctz7c2NaApYMrvDVWIeUot_Ei5/s400/P4140010.JPG" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpAoWHWIyvBLdctasKvlyYHgDFXB3SNpCnJJIJhuzmS2zgUqf7e_-eqKAL8aXwqpdSffXQAXWxJ18UQ24Jl3fWSoptpN6liB1q-Exr0MjxtfgXZprwCjkPGhIpiUkfl4QOF59rZ6iMdgfw/s1600/P4140030.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="300" width="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpAoWHWIyvBLdctasKvlyYHgDFXB3SNpCnJJIJhuzmS2zgUqf7e_-eqKAL8aXwqpdSffXQAXWxJ18UQ24Jl3fWSoptpN6liB1q-Exr0MjxtfgXZprwCjkPGhIpiUkfl4QOF59rZ6iMdgfw/s400/P4140030.JPG" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4Fhqz_hWU_4YdlLaBowN0-AHfvj0g95HZHa6DVesKig8JfPFHgAiHO10F7akmFTF0_UX_0eTIKsnJjV6a2q4CpGHm09ajkIpg-oLW65-h2JTIxhXy9nZxuBA9f7hfYlozmmPK6x32dks-/s1600/P4140043.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="300" width="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4Fhqz_hWU_4YdlLaBowN0-AHfvj0g95HZHa6DVesKig8JfPFHgAiHO10F7akmFTF0_UX_0eTIKsnJjV6a2q4CpGHm09ajkIpg-oLW65-h2JTIxhXy9nZxuBA9f7hfYlozmmPK6x32dks-/s400/P4140043.JPG" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJWaaVHbMcT8U82dL5sOoSkCAdddlvt5UNEELjT6YYBsd3NubMPISskvMRbTlAjuNuds1JvsDWAH7-ffGgbSA35m-86xYhEKCY5EbhPGeAeQxHwdBLFeQVhLv_Z5ejgb7Sa7rODHDsKAnl/s1600/P4140061.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="300" width="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJWaaVHbMcT8U82dL5sOoSkCAdddlvt5UNEELjT6YYBsd3NubMPISskvMRbTlAjuNuds1JvsDWAH7-ffGgbSA35m-86xYhEKCY5EbhPGeAeQxHwdBLFeQVhLv_Z5ejgb7Sa7rODHDsKAnl/s400/P4140061.JPG" /></a></div><br />
The Mr and I had last undertaken a family trip almost a year ago! We were getting a bit restless as a rest, so we planned a quick trip to the nearest hill station- Ooty and its nearest satellite town Coonoor. Now, we had heard and read about all sorts of negative stuff about Ooty, that it was too congested, that the filmwallas had made the place too commercialised etc etc. therefore our plan was to hit the more serene Coonoor as soon as we could. We took the night bus from Bangalore at 10:30pm and reached Ooty bus stand bright and early (by 6am). It was freezing cold (the Mr had spoken to the Coonoor hotel which had informed him that it was warm weather there). We were wearing long sleeved clothes to ward off the bus ac, so we managed.Therewas a resourceful wollen cap seller near at hand, waiting for the likes of us unprepared folks so the Brat Girl got a cap for herself and we were off to Coonoor by the first available autorickshaw which demanded 450Rs!The ride was thrilling with tall pines and flowering trees all along the way and the refreshing smell of the mountains. It felt like the air of one of the Himachali hills stations that we were so used to while living in Delhi. The South Indian hill stations are lower, less cooler and exudes a diffrent smell an feel altogether!<br />
We reached our hotel bright and early and after taking a look at the beautiful view of a section of a tea garden from the room balcony, we were all charged up and ready to explore the place.We changed into our new year finery (the day was poila boishak, the Bengali new year day)and set off on foot to the upper Coonoor market road (Bedford), we had breakfast and walked to the Coocoor Botanical gardens also known as 'Sim's Park'. It is a naturally terreced garden which had four tiers ending at the bottom in a small lake in which one can do some boating. There are beautiful gigantic trees and winding stairways on both sides that lead to the well of the garden where the lake is located. The mite in his excitement to reach the lake took a tumble on the pathway and stracthed himself above the lip. He remained whiney for sometime but by the time we were out of the gardens he had put it behind him. Thereafter we engaged an autorickshaw driver to take us to the various places of interest in the town for a price of Rs 550.Our first destination was 'Dolphin's Nose', on the way there we stopped at another view point 'Lady Canning's Seat' which is not favoured by tourists nowadays. The Mr had read about the place and hence made the reluctant auto driver stop for us. These are the times that the times that the love and respect overflows for the Mr, you can never say that he has not done the research on our travel destination! Infact he brings print outs from travel blogs and information sites and leaves them in strategic positions at home so that I am motivated to read them, but he highly underestimates my laziness in such matters!<br />
Lady Cannings seat has a quaint concrete 'umbrella' much scratched with names of lovers and prior visitors. The view is sweeping and gives an instant sense of calm. What a nice way to unwind!<br />
Dolphin's nose is a mountain face that juts out roughly in the shape of a dolphin's nose and affords great views on three sides- of Catherine's fall, of a toda village and hills and valley's all around. The telescope man has thrown in the view of a recently built water amusement park!! I think that park should pay the man for the free publicity!There are a lot of 'instant family photograph' fellows all over the place in this region with prices varying from Rs60 - 40, we were not tempted! However, there is a lack of any kind of information- maps, picture post cards and the like at any of the places we visited.<br />
From Dolphin's nose, we set off to a tea factory one of the noted ones in these parts. We had a guide who had lost one of his hands to the large machines in the factory! He showed us how the leaves are sorted, dried, rolled and packaged. It was an illuminating tour. The place had a strong but pleasant smell of tea. We yearned for a cuppa but our auto driver had a special garden in mind for that exercise! After the tour of the factory we headed for another famous view point- Lamb's Rock. A short stone walkway down a hilly path leads to a sloping rock clearing from which there is a breath taking view of hill ranges and valleys. It is possible to spend an entire day here with a book, but we were yearning for masala tea!<br />
Our last stop was the tea garden which is a property of the yesteryear actress Mumtaz and her husband. Slope upon slope of tea bushes greated us. There is a small shop which sells to products of Coonoor, flavoured teas, spices and medicinal oils. One of the shop assistants cam ewith us to explain about the tea pluckingetc. There was the mandatory instant photo person too. This time we relented and the Brat had her picture taken dressed as a traditional tea picker. Most of the tea pluckers we saw had pulled on a shirt over their saris and gotten down to business!! <br />
At last we got to the tea shop and tasted chocolate tea and masala tea, the kids loved chocolate tea! <br />
After the hectic sight seeing we returned to the hotel to a hot buffet meal of rice sambhar, 2types of vegetables, curd rice rasam and payasam, all for only Rs 60! Needless to say, we crashed out completely after that only to surface when it was nearly getting dark. We ventured out in the evening and took the route opposite to the one we had taken in the morning only to discover that the 'Figure of Eight' road led us to exactly the same spot that we had gone to in the morning by a longer circular path...these hill roads are crazy!The Mr discovered that he'd forgotten to get a key cable used to download pic from and charge our camera, he walked back to the hotel while the kids and I ambled about in the market buying biscuits and other necessities. The funny thing is that NONE of the shops had Coonoor flavoured tea on offer! you could buy as many tea packets as you want but no one will prepare a masala or chocolate or green tea for you. We finally had to settle for a Nescafe machine coffee from a local bakery. One could make a fortune from a Chai bar at the bedford market, seriously!<br />
The Quality restaurant at Bedford is supposed to be good but there is only buffet dinner which we didn't feel up to at that time so we went to 'Dragon' a Chinese place in the main square. After a hearty meal we took an auto back to the hotel. <br />
On the next day, we were up bright and early to catch the bus to Kotagiri. The bus service between Kotagiri and Coonoor is very good with buses at every half hour.We took the 8:30am bus and reached Kotagiri at under an hour. The journey was enjoyable, the bus was not overcrowded and the hills and valleys provided a great view. At Kotagiri we had to wait for some time to catch the bus to Kodanadu (our destination).I picked up beautiful and fragrant jasmine flowers for my hair. At only 10Rs for a hand's length they were a treat! At Coonoor we had encountered a flower lady who had actually asked for Rs 30 for a similar length of these flower garlands! We had finally settled for 20! In Bangalore its price ranges from 10 - 25 depending on the season, but the flowers here were larger and were strung on thicker thread. The fragrance is so enduring that I can still smell the flowers in my hair, even after shampooing!I wore the flowers throughout our stay even though the Mr called me 'Chameli Bai' for my troubles!<br />
The Kodanadu bus arrived, this service is also very good and punctual and takes tourists right upto the famous Kodanadu view point. The bus had a lovely poster depicting Islam Hinduism and Christianity together laminated and hung up on the windshield. Not separate pictures but on a single sheet, maybe there are drivers of all three faiths driving this bus. Somehow it renewed my hopes of harmony and peaceful coexistence amongst faiths that is the essence of our national character...<br />
Kodanadu view point is a pure thriller! Flanked by huge tea estates, nestled in a reserved forest area it provides a spectacular view of the mountain ranges and valley below. We finally got some decent masala tea at the outlet near the watch tower. There was a huge river winding its way across the valley below, there was also a quaint hillock with three prongs which looked dramatic amidst the flat land around it. We spent a good half hour just gazing at the scenery. We walked about half a kilometer back toward another viewing point and caught the return bus from there.We reached the hotel at lunch time where the scrumptious buffet awaited us! After lunch and some rest we set off on foot to lower Coonoor. There is a winding pathway which would land us near the Coonoor bus stand. It was a beautiful walk. From the bus stop e took an autorickshaw to the St John's church which is a grand structure visible even from our hotel in upper Coonoor. We spent some relaxed moments in the church and headed back to the hotel. The city was abuzz with the celebration of the Amman festival and there was dancing on the streets and the market area in lower Coonoor had great crowds thronging the streets. We would be heading back the next day to Ooty from where we had to catch the night bus back to Bangalore...No one could give us concrete information regarding the timing of the Toy Train from Coonoor to Ooty. If one wants to take this delightful train, it is advisable to enquire at the station beforehand. We learnt later that the train that originates in Coonoor leaves at 7:45 the next was at 10:45, for which we had to buy tickets at 10. This train originates from a station before Coonoor.Coming up in the next post (I am exhausted from all this rambling!)- mystifying Ooty.....diyahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07467285543383068855noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5282139581331978695.post-76437929627127281462012-03-21T21:13:00.001-07:002012-03-21T21:21:09.690-07:00Child Sexual Abuse Is the Most Henious Kind of Human Rights Violation!</p><p><div data-badge-id="2528851" data-orientation="right" data-hover="false" class="pb-badge-widget"></div><br />
<script type="text/javascript" src="http://static.picbadges.com/static/widgets/w.js"></script><br />
<br />
As parents, as mothers, there ia constant fear for our children in this regard. Stats show that the abuser, nine times out of ten, is Known Person, a person in a position of trust and responsibility. The 'do not talk to strangers' dictum may not work every time. Instead of quaking in our shoes and praying that our children do not go through such ordeals, we should try to understand the phenomenon and learn from the mistakes and sufferings of others. We must learn and teach our kids how to be vigilant and how to react when faced with such an assault. <br />
The Child Sexual Abuse Awareness initiative is a great opportunity to share and learn about this menace and how one can deal with it. Please participate and be aware!<br />
As if to reierate the urgency of this initiative, there's a report of one such henious crime today-<br />
<br />
http://articles.timesofindia.indiatimes.com/2012-03-21/nagpur/31219400_1_girl-neighbours-nearby-doctordiyahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07467285543383068855noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5282139581331978695.post-65541519526385024272012-03-05T03:07:00.000-08:002012-03-05T03:07:46.216-08:00Celebrating Myself<a href="http://www.zivame.com/?utm_source=blog_contest&utm_medium=blog_contest&utm_content=blog_contest&utm_campaign=blog_contest" target="_blank" alt="Celebrating Myself" width="350px"><img src="http://www.womensweb.in/wp-content/uploads/2012/03/celebratingmyself.jpg"></a><br />
<br />
I remember, very early in life, during a moral science class, we were told how important it is to be 'humble' and 'modest'. "Whatever your achievements be, you should always be 'umble", said the teacher wisely. This was ofcourse a convent school dedicated to the purpose of producing 'young ladies' who'd hold the social fabric of the outside world together with their humble and modest persuits. In today's world, these virtues are tantamout to committing harakiri, both in your prefessional and personal life. That's why 'Moral Science' has been done away with even in the convent school curriculum!! Anyhow, the above mentioned humility and modesty were specially appreciated in women, and we imbibed the same with great enthusiasm not understanding how, we as women, had virtually agreed to make ourselves and our work invisible! Now after a lifelong practice of modesty and humility, I look back upon my life, my studies, my home, my children, my existence and wonder, is there any way in which I can justify celebrating myself?<br />
I ask myself, what is it about me that can be celebrated? I am a singularly unambitious person, and at one point, I did not know what I really wanted to do....I just went with the flow and appeared for MA entrance exams, I got through, so I did my MA. Then my father wanted me to do a BEd, as teaching, according to him, was the best profession for women, so I did a BEd. There was only the one time that I actually took a strong position regarding my studies at that was when I decided to do an MPhil in History because I had missed my subject during my BEd days! Then, after marriage my dear husband wanted me to try for a teaching job in college so I appeared for the NET examinations (I had flunked it twice and was mortally scared of it), by some miracle I got through and I even received a scholarship for further studies, so I joined Phd! Thus, circumstances were so created that I came to become quite 'highly educated' even without trying consciously to be so! <br />
After my academic escapades, the next thing about me that could be celebrated is motherhood. I take my two kids very seriously, infact, they are something that I feel thankful for every single day. Both my babies are planned, hoped for and wanted dearly. In fact I had always wanted babies, even though I was not sure whether I wanted to be married at all! I am the epitome of Bengali motherhood and I am very proud of my talented Brat Girl and my loving Mite. That does not mean that I don't shout my lungs out to discipline them or don't whack them when necessary! But I also give them a lot of love, I still kiss them awake every morning and try to always be there for them. The problem with that is that even the 12 year old Brat won't get out of bed without me coming and hugging and kissing her even on a holiday! Also, I do not enjoy a moment of peace with the kids being used to having me at their beck and call even when I have sat myself in the loo!<br />
As a person, what can be celebrated about me is that I am very loyal, and I am always very fair. I have a strong sense of right and wrong and I can separate a person from the wrong he or she has committed. I won't ever hate a person for some wrong deed or word that might have hurt me, I will focus on his or her good points and try to explain why I have got hurt. My husband often says, "If you go out with Diya, be prepared to take an accident victim to the hospital, rescue troubled old ladies and engage in sundry other social service work..." I can't ignore people in distress, I try to do what I can, help in any way possible. Ofcourse, the Mr has only been forced to come to the aid of two young boys who were finding it difficult to push a huge puppet along the road as part of the World Puppet Day celebratory procession in which we had participated! If I had been earning now, I am sure I would have given regular contributions to several causes close to my heart! Now I try to give my services and contribute books etc...<br />
I am a strong and dependable person and I take my relationships very seriously. The problem is, I often expect the same dependability in others and get jolted back into reality as a result. If I give my word, come hail or high water, I try to keep my word and I am very apologetic if I can't! But I do think that this is rare quality in this day and age and should be celebrated!<br />
I also pride myself on being a 'feminist' in that, I believe that women have the right to equal opportunity and should be given the dignity and respect they deserve as human beings. Any discrimination and prejudice based on gender is unacceptable to me. That does not mean that I hate the people who are so prejudiced, but I try to point out how the prejudice works and I hope to root out such prejudice from the minds of my family and friends and indeed anyone that I may encounter. I am not afraid of the any attack or accusation I might face on account of my stauch defence of gender equality and non-discrimination.<br />
Well, in conclusion, I can say, I am a passably agreeable sample of womanhood worthy of some 'celebrating' and deserving of some appreciation. Not a bad sort at all, in fact I would be quite happy to have myself as a friend!diyahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07467285543383068855noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5282139581331978695.post-8898864414055713212012-02-29T21:30:00.000-08:002012-02-29T21:30:44.188-08:00The Joy of LurkingAfter many months, or has it been a year? I engaged in my one time favourite past time- lurking amongst blog posts on the reading list in my dashboard!! Its highly fulfilling and rewarding learning of the travails and goof ups of moms, insanely busy, magically creative or highly informative adventures of others....am happy and hopeful once more....diyahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07467285543383068855noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5282139581331978695.post-91713108503231883012012-02-29T00:51:00.000-08:002012-02-29T00:51:49.212-08:00All Little Dreams Matter!When we discover that our little moppets are good at anything, be it music, dance or drawing, we rush about as if our tail's on fire, trying to find a suitable teacher/class to train 'em. Thus begins the endless journey of moms to and from art, music and dance classes with their bewildered wards in tow! So frenzied is the desire to give wings to their fledgeling 'dreams' that we sometimes put extra pressure upon their shoulders to realise these 'dreams'. We drive them to these classes in the hope that they will find their true calling and realise their dreams. However, there are a group of children, and let me tell you, they are the majority of our children for whom a dream means the hazy visions they see while asleep! Art music and dance classes are a luxury their parents cannot afford, they have to make do with some elementary education, a far cry from the 'holistic', 'all-round' education with a liberal dose of extra curricular activities which private schools offer to the people who have the resources.In this scenario comes a voluntary organisation created by my friend Reena Choudhury whose motto it is to bring out the dormant 'dreams' of these underprivileged kids and encourage them to articulate them through art, music and other fun activities. The 'Dream a Little Dream' initiative is unique and one of its kind and I was lucky to be involved in its 6th Art camp held at Bosco Mane, in Bangalore on Sunday 26th December.<br />
When the 180 or so children were asked 'when do you dream?' they promptly said, 'at night'!! That 'dreams' may mean future hopes and aspirations, was a revelation to them. As soon as they are asked to make a drawing showing their dreams, they begin to draw the trees and little triangular roofed houses which they are taught in drawing class at their schools. Out of the 20 children aged 8years in the group which I was assigned to, only 3or 4kids understood what we were talking about. One little girl had begun with the customary triangle roof house when I tried to explain to her what was required, I asked 'what do you like to do best?' she answered meekly that she liked to stay at home! I showed her how to draw the inside of the house and gave her ideas about what else she could put in there, I even drew some stuff on a piece of paper for her and helped her rub the house. After all this, at the end of the session, I found that she has redrawn the same house again and had made a pre-learnt scene....ah well, thought I, at least she has shown some determination. At the end of an hour, there were a few policemen, 2 space rockets, a few clowns and even a butterfly and a mermaid! There was a scruffy little fellow who was staring uncertainly at his paper, I really had the urge to wash his face and blow his nose for him and also oil his hair and comb it for good measure, but I restrained myself for fear of hurting his pride! Anyhow, I explained that this was no ordinary drawing he has to make, but a very special one. I asked him to breathe deeply and close his eyes, he obeyed, then I said, think of what you really like to do, he thought. Then suitably enlightened, he began drawing, he made a huge grotesque figure, but coloured it nicely. What's that?I made some people ask him ( I do not understand Kannada too well), there were 2 versions of what he answered, one boy reported that he'd made a monster and another held that it was a doll!! After drawing we went for group photographs after which the kids went for lunch. The post lunch session had an interesting drumming demo and an entertaining magic show. The children were very responsive to the demonstration on the African type drum. Most of the kids react spontaneously to music, many were breaking into a jig from time to time to the music that played constantly in the background. The other programme was a magic show which had the kids and volunteers glued to the spot around the stage, wide eyed. Tea time was organised like a birthday party with cold drink and snack boxes after the magic show. I slipped out after tea but I got the sense that an exciting dance session was about to begin after the snacks. My friend and founder of the 'Dream a Little Dream' project, Reena informed me later that the kids and the young volunteers who'd come from some colleges had a wild and crazy dance session after tea with lots of bursting of balloons and joyous abandon. I regretted having to leave when I did ( because my mite was down with an eye infection and I had promised him I'd be back by 5), the kids' faces and their earnestness and joy kept swimming before my eyes. I am thankful to my dear friend Reena for making me a part of such a thoughful and fulfilling project.diyahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07467285543383068855noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5282139581331978695.post-74252432753309059422012-02-15T20:29:00.000-08:002012-02-15T20:29:45.397-08:00I have a Bit of Namma Bengaluru in MeThe other day I finally applied for a voter's ID card in Bangalore. I already have a passport issued from here, a pan card with my Bangalore address, a bank account nearby and a child with an unmistakable Kannada accent! Bangalore is the city in which I first set up home independently with the Mr, and miracle of miracles, we managed to do so successfully inspite of the utter confusion of our erractic routines and schedule changes. Bangalore is where my one year old mite grew up to be all of six. Bangalore is where my Brat Girl metamorphosed from a slow and listless child into a bright student with varied interests, a peotess (known as the 'Sarojini Naidu' of our building), a dancer (she was cleared her first year exams for Odissi), she has honed her artistic skills and won many prizes and also learnt classical music for eight months! All in all, the city as given me much, all this, after the fact that I still do not know Kannada so well! We have spent a pleasant time here, this was my first stint as a 'housewife' and I think I did a pretty decent job of it, though I am pretty much straining at the leash now that the mite will go to ClassI in a month or two and i will have enough time to rejoin the work force!<br />
Bangalore is now our (Namma) city, it is a growing city, a city perpetually under construction. On our last Calcutta visit the Brat observed- " ekhane shob kichchu khub purono" (every thing is very old and worn here), she is used to seeing bright new buildings and swank new Malls springing up on both sides of the road in Bangalore!The Bangaloreans use very bright colours for the exterior of their shops and homes that also leads to the brightess and newness of the place. I have even begun to look upon the strange practices of washing clothes outside houses using methods of the dhobi ghat (smashing the clothes upon stone slabs or rocks to smitherines) or chucking of garbage on every vacant spot with benign indulgence! Now with all the official 'proof' of my identity being rooted in this city, Bangalore has left an indelible mark upon me, it has claimed me as its own and it occupies a spcial space in me. Thank you Bangalore for all that you've given me!diyahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07467285543383068855noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5282139581331978695.post-68875589582378732772012-02-13T02:15:00.000-08:002012-02-13T02:15:22.091-08:00Where The Mind is Without Fear.....This poem, by Tagore always constricted my throat and brought tears to my eyes...now it has become the anthem of a unique movement initiated through twitter and facebook called #Flashreads for free speech, if you happen near Cubbon park tomorrow around 3pm then you can even participate in it Bangaloreans-----<br />
<br />
<b>Where the mind is without fear</b><br />
<br />
Where the mind is without fear and the head is held high <br />
Where knowledge is free<br />
Where the world has not been broken up into fragments <br />
By narrow domestic walls<br />
Where words come out from the depth of truth<br />
Where tireless striving stretches its arms towards perfection<br />
Where the clear stream of reason has not lost its way <br />
Into the dreary desert sand of dead habit<br />
Where the mind is led forward by thee <br />
Into ever-widening thought and action<br />
Into that heaven of freedom, my Father, let my country awake.<br />
<br />
~Rabindranath Tagore<br />
visit- http://akhondofswat.blogspot.in/2012/02/flashreads-for-february-14th.html -for further details, if u are on twitter contact @fazilsajeer.diyahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07467285543383068855noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5282139581331978695.post-53474572618482984912012-01-14T22:56:00.001-08:002012-01-14T22:56:54.191-08:00Hey Blog! Can you hear me?For ages I have been unable to post anything on this blog, just checking whether it is still alive!diyahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07467285543383068855noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5282139581331978695.post-1701151879488196072011-10-09T00:15:00.000-07:002011-10-09T00:17:37.569-07:00Bombay-Baroda trip<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0yX5yVOujBVhcoo0vQ2KG90nJ_x-h5siSMLORDZHegySiv3RuUlNfD0R8WgQ8CmL15VeZqdsuPzx-0-Pntvgwccyah-pNbFNrENzbM2O2n1ilefL_FxnQQOeFKUBTKogrcIG5xxASHhOw/s1600/100_1792.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="400" width="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0yX5yVOujBVhcoo0vQ2KG90nJ_x-h5siSMLORDZHegySiv3RuUlNfD0R8WgQ8CmL15VeZqdsuPzx-0-Pntvgwccyah-pNbFNrENzbM2O2n1ilefL_FxnQQOeFKUBTKogrcIG5xxASHhOw/s400/100_1792.JPG" /></a></div><br />
We spent this Durga Puja in Mumbai and Baroda, had a lot of fun. visited plush pandals, relished delicious food...diyahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07467285543383068855noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5282139581331978695.post-10059001078664555122011-09-11T00:51:00.001-07:002011-09-11T00:55:16.574-07:00I am BackI was away from my Blog for some time, and now I am back!!!diyahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07467285543383068855noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5282139581331978695.post-70074054090214826742011-05-23T01:33:00.000-07:002011-09-11T00:47:25.796-07:00Heat and Dust: A Taste of the Delhi SummerWe were in Delhi for a week and I experienced after a long time ( 3years) the sensation of a scalding back!! It was 40 degrees on all the days that we had to gallivant around town in the afternoons and it felt as if the sun had set my back on fire, beating down upon me reentlessly. This was a familiar feeling for I had spent 5years being so scalded during the college days! I cannot imagine how e managed to get by! I remember my friend Rachna and I had gone to Sasrojini Nagar in the dead of the afternoon to shop for our friends! That's the only time we were free after the classes at college! I used to carry an umbrella but the heat never bothered us noir crampoed or style! The Brat was very happy to be in Delhi, she could wear her short skirts and sleeveless tops and have ice cream every day. In Bangalore she starts off with the short skirt but has to switch to leggings and long sleeves as soon as it rains nearly every evening!! The Brat and I managed to go to our neighbourhood park on 3 of the 5 days and I took her to Sarojini in the afternoon too because the mornings and evenings were packed with work for me! I also had to travel by the metro to Gurgaon on three days and I have decided that the metro is a boon for Delhi. The roads have declogged and the journey time have shortened by half and it is such a picturesque ride when the train shoots up from the underground tunnel onto the raised piers. I am hoping for a similar miracle in Bangalore! One day we tok an auto ride from Gurgaon to our house, in the afternoon! Baba and I braved the heat and were nearly disintegrated in the process but it was an experience!! Previously autos were not allowed to cross the border at Gurgaon but now there is a free flow of autos to and from there. In the middle of the journey the driver got off and drank to glasses of water from those vans selling 'refrigerated' water. I remember during my college days we used to drink water from these mobile tanks. I particularly liked the salty nimbu paani with the ice cold water. I could not imagine myself drinking that now...Delhi, I have moved on, and you have changed too, but it is reassuring to see that some things have not changed....diyahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07467285543383068855noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5282139581331978695.post-72175633351631393112011-05-03T06:26:00.000-07:002011-05-03T06:26:02.220-07:00Obama, Osama and Idoelogical Turmoil!!Well, US managed to scalp their public enemy no.1 in a night time secret operation. But whom did they get? An ailing man in a hiding hole, a man who was a martyr without a country, a man whom a generation of youth of his community thought to be their raied finger towards the high handed West. Symbolically, the West has won this round, but many questions remain...Why now? When they knew for at least a year that he was holed up here while they were doling out money to the Pakistani government for their military needs? Why an order to 'kill' not to capture and ask questions, provide a trial like for Saddam? Why take Pakistan by surprise? Were they scared that Osama can reveal something abut them to the world? And most sickening, why throw his body into the sea?? Yuk! Why the hurry to get rid of any living proof of the man?? Given a chance I would like to shake the man till his teeth rattle and demand to know what he was thinking he was doing! His brain should be examined to see what could lead people to spew hatred and kill people. Osama, my friends, is still alive! In the hearts and minds of a whole generation of youth. One of the pro-Osama boys in Britain declares that 'many mothers would like to bear Osamas', hello? Why? How? Bear a child who preaches hatred, spends his life plotting an unattainable revenge, is hunted down finally meeting a gory death and being thrown into the sea? There are many ways of protesting than killing innocents and spewing venom!No ideology is great enough to warrent the death of innocents who were just carrying on with their lives in peace. <br />
Islam brought peace and prosperity in Arab life, Islamic culture has a richness and grace, Islamic law was far advanced than any other law at one time, Islam supports learning, and Islam stands for equality between men and between man and woman. But what has Islam come to?? It has come to represent all things regressive and a religion which preaches violence. They can thank Osama's creed for that. Often the greatest form of protest is to just hold on to your beliefs and practice them in your life. If more poeple practice what is good in Islamic culture there is bound to be a regeneration and America, with all its high handedness cannot stop its flow.<br />
Obama's swoop has also thrown the powers that be in both Pakistan and India into a tizzy, clearly the US is calling the shots here! At first it was said that Pakistan was not informed, I guess the US has free use of the Pakistani air space for helicopters were used in the operation, is it possible o deploy US helicopters over a military academy in Pakistan without anybody knowing of it?? Then it was said that Pakistan helped the US. The first statement had the Indians crying fowl, like a small tattle tale, "Pakistan is hiding terrorists", they screamed! Now everyone knows!!What do the indian authorities expect? The Pakistani government will throw up its arms and accept that they are breeding terrorists?? Where will their credibility lie with their own poeple, let alone the world! Then came Zardari's claim that they did not know Osama was in their midst! The only thing that this fellow did right for himself was marry Benazir!! The wiser thing would be to claim that they knew about it and was waiting to strike, I guess... Then it was the trun of our very own Chidambaram who started ranting against Pakistan!! Going on about how Osama was found 80km from Isamabad and 800m from Military academy!A new channel declared that the US -Pakistan alliance is in tatters! What should be clear to all these statesmen and political advisers is that the US will do only that and only that much which is required to fulfil their own political goals, and it is clear that Pakistan is America's buffer against India and it will go on supporting Pakistan monetarily, no matter what! Also if they can zero in on a building in the heart of Pakistan, they will also know what other activities are carried on there...so the Indian govt need not scream from roof tops about Pakistani activities to let the world know about them. Our govt needs to accept the situation and strategise. In this way it is creating Bad blood with the Pakistani authorities and nothing else. <br />
All these contradictory, confusing and convoluted statements can drive the ordinary people up the wall! I for one have a splitting headache and a bad taste in my mouth. I envy the people who are partying on the American streets, celebrating their little tit for tat moment, I wish it was as simple as that....but this I know, those who preach violence meet a violent end...I hope Osama has learnt this lesson in his death!diyahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07467285543383068855noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5282139581331978695.post-37474283156277359072011-04-29T02:35:00.000-07:002011-04-29T02:35:48.866-07:00World Dance Day....Since we enjoyed 'World Puppetry Day' so much, I find myself being instinctively drawn towards any similar sounding celebration related to the arts! Well today, ie 29th April is World Dance Day and there are number of exciting dance performances around the city of Bangalore to which we are not going. ' then what's the excitement about?' you'd say, throwing up your arms, well, what we have is our tri-weekly dance class (actually the kids are going for it but I am as excited as they are)and we have practiced a lot since the last class which was on Monday. In the western dance segment 5 steps have been taught and the Brat is also learning Bharatnatyam for which she has been taught 2 steps. I have always had a soft corner for dance, the first time I learnt dance was when I was about my mite's age in Calcutta. The class was not very far from the house and sometimes Baba took me for the class and he always treated me to a lollypop on the way back. In those days there used to be those 'chine badam wallas' (roasted groundnut sellers) at street corners who would be stirring vigorously at a mound of groundnuts on a layer of sand in a kadai placed on a makeshift stove...I can still smell the roasting groundnuts and taste them.....Anyhow, getting back to dance. Our teacher was Minoti miss. She was very tall and well built (atleast she appeared so to me) and she taught us Indian dance, not anything classical but a mixture of many styles. Minoti ma'am was organising a dance drama on the story of Ali baba and the forty thieves and she gave us (the youngest group in her school) a chance to perform at Rabindra Sadan by fitting us in as little fairies or hoors in her narrative. That was the only chance that I got to perform at the rabindra Sadan. A beautiful satin ghgra and choli was made for me for the performance it was red in colour (red is my favourite colour) and I spent many happy hours in the afternoon wearing the costume and practicing before the mirror. Thereafter we shifted to Delhi and in class II I joined Odissi classes under Sri Mayadhar Raut. The classes were held at Bharatiya Kala Kendra and was quite a distance from our Mandir Marg home. Amma (my grandmom ) used to go with me in the car and Sachindro dada our resident driver used to take us there. I learnt for a year and got good marks in the exam but I had to discontinue after I was seriously ill with typhiod. Our Guruji was a hard task master and he would always have a cane in his hand and would keep the taal by hitting it on the dias in front of him. Sometimes he would walk about among the dancers and an misplaced foot would get a rap with the cane! Odisi is a very difficult dance form because you have to always be in a half sitting position with your two feet facing in the opposite directions. It was fun, though, and I made friends in dance class. My next stint with dance was when I joined 'Dakhini' after Baba got transferred to Calcutta. I was in class V. At Dakshini which was run by Shubho Guhathakurta a stalwart in the cultural scene, girls were not allowed to attend class in a salwaar kameez because the gentleman considered it to be a dress of an alien (Muslim?) culture!! I remember the first time I went there I was in my favourite salwaar kameez, he points at me as says 'aei shob dress ekhane cholbena' although frocks, skirt blouse were allowed! Since when did skirt blouse and frock become Indian dresses? I wanted to ask grandpa Shubho....but one has to accept such things when one is small and insignificant. In Dakshini I learnt a lot of manipuri dance along with Bharatnatyam. The dance form adopted for dances on rabindrasngeet was an amalgamation of the two forms. Manipuri has two distinct styles one meant for the dancer depicting females and the tandav style for dancers who represent males. The narratives always have tales of Radha and Krishna in it. the costume of the females and males are equally elaborate and distinct.<br />
At school we were taught dance by Mr Bose who was a kind and patient teacher. In class VI I had my first and only opportunity at a stage appearance at school when we were made deers in a performance of a dance drama on Buddha. Thereafter I could not participate too much at school whicjh entailed staying back at school after class. <br />
At about this time the Ladies of the Calcutta Prt trust ( where my father worked on deputation) became very active culturally and I participated in a number of functions organised by them. Dipu auntie was our teacher and the first and most memorable performance we did was on the lawns of one of the bungalows in Prtland park on the day of holi. Most of the dancers were first timers but Dipu auntie did a great job with us. For the first time I had a solo performance. Dipu auntie made me perform twice more, one of which was a solo performance and then there was a big performance in Mahajati Sadan in Chetla. The thrill of being on stage was tremendous and I enjoyed myself most in the group dance performances because the thrill in coordinating the movements is something else altogether. When I got to class IX I did not have time for this hobby because of the pressure of studies. I have not learnt dance since then....During my BEd days I got another chance to learn a dance. In our Bed class we were encouraged to participate in every kind of extra curriculars. On the occassion of Republic day we performed folk dances of the different states and I was part of a dance from Kerala. It was an enjoyable experience and brought back all the fond memories of dance. <br />
When I was working at Hindi High school Girl's Section after BEd I got a chance to choreograph the girls for their annual day function. This group of girls had chosen a slow anand Shanker music piece and were to perform with lighted diyas in their hands. They thought their dance was very bad and their music was terrible, the group which had got a fast beat Rajasthani number was their favourite. I had to convince them that dance does not mean merely leaping about at a fast pace you can have a slow dance which can hold the audience's attention. The girls did a fine job and held their own amidst the fast paced numbers. On the day before the final performance there was panic as one of the dancers had lost her grandfather and hence could not come. There were several dance formations in the routine which would go awry if a dancer was missing. I was called back from home after school hours and the girls and I addressed the crisis. " Ma'am, you take her place" said one, but tempting though the offer was, I declined. I adjusted the formations so that only one girl (the partner of the one that was missing) had to change her steps a bit. Our Pincipal said that she could not make out taht someone was missing at the final performance. I thanked the girls and was very proud of them and I thought of all my teachers of dance who had prepared me for that small crisis that day. <br />
As I look back at all my encounters with dance, I have a smile on my face...the cheerful banter at practice sessions, the thrill of the stage, the happiness in performing, it has been a great experience. I hope my kids have a good relationship with dance too. They do not have to be oustanding performers or great exponents as long as they enjoy themselves and have some happy memories to cherish, I am content. For the moment we are happy and excited about the class this evening, so we have started off on the right foot, haven't we?diyahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07467285543383068855noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5282139581331978695.post-85275753416482995332011-04-19T08:28:00.000-07:002011-04-19T23:40:05.051-07:00Inspiration MM: How to un-Mall the kids!The Mad Momma has done a great service for the busy parents of today by listing a few places where they can go with their kids and enjoy themselves without exposing them to the 'plastic' world of the convenient Malls all the time. Off and on, for the past few years I have been trying to recount our adventures in different places in and around Bangalore but all the information is hopelessly scattered in the blog archieve. However if I make a compilation of all our outings in my mind, I do always vividly remember the joys of the other places than of the Mall visits and so shall the kids for sure. That is simply because there are infinitely more interesting. Having said that, I must admit that I spent the last two Sundays in Malls, heh heh.... after all they are the lazy parents' haven! However one of these Mall outings was quite a delightful experience as an African drum performance was is progress and all the kiddies (except mine, humph) were shaking a leg! After the performance the kids were allowed to tap at the drums to get a feel of the instrument. I have en rolled the kids in a dance class to ensure that they do not let go of any other such opportunity! After going to the Mall we also visited the fabulous Meenakshi temple which looked heavenly, bathed in the bright moonlight. We had dinner at our favourite shack restaurant and finished off the meal with delicious fruit ice cream sitting on the steps of the ice-cream parlour on the footpath....sigh...we also had good company- our young neighbours who treated us to the ice cream! Ahem...without digressing any further let me concentrate on the Bangalore list ( of places other than Malls where you can enjoy with kids)----<br />
1 The first on the list has to be Lal Bagh the botanical garden at the heart of the city. We lived near it previously so we headed for it at the drop of a hat. Evenings at the Lal Bagh lake with monkeys on the trees and ducks in the water can transport you to another world altogether and scarcely will you remember that a bustling city is at the gates! We have spent many a pleasant evening at lal Bagh and the band stand holds a performance evry Saturday but who needs music to enjoy nature?<br />
2 Ulsoor Lake is marvellous for boating and watching birds.<br />
3 The Shankey Lake -for lolling and watching gigantic bats traverse the lake from one end to the other to their trees.<br />
4 Cubbon Park- which houses the aquarium and also has a Band Stand. There are some rides for the chidren and lots and lots of greens to explore.<br />
5 Tipu's Palace and ruins of the fort- this place is near the hustle and bustle of the city market area and the summer palace lawns are well kept. The fort wall ruin is also an interesting place to snoop around in.<br />
6 The Bangalore Palace is also worth a watch, the royals still live in a part of it. It looks more lived in than the museum like Mysore palace.<br />
7 The Visvesvaraya Industriial and Technological museum is also very exciting we have spent many happy hours on the floor which has scientific instruments that can be worked by the children including a mirror trick that makes it appear as if your head has been cut and served on a platter!<br />
8 Karnataka Chitrakala Parishat on Kumara Krupa road - every year the Chitra Shanthe festival is held here where artists young and old, professional and novice display their art on a one kilometer stretch of the road. We have not been able to attend this annual event yet but we did catch a yakshagana performance by kids and a painting exhibition.<br />
9 The Venkatappa art gallery and the Government Museum one can spend an entire day exploring these two places which are side by side.<br />
10 The Nehru Planetarium- this is an excellect place to take kids to. The Bangalore planetarium has a shop where science toys and experiments are sold and a garden with scientific games along with regular slides and swings. A sound and light show is also held in the lawns nearby.<br />
11 Ranga Shankara theatre holds various children's festivals. Recently we went for the celebration of World Puppetry Day and had a complete blast!! Even now theatre workshops for kids are in progress there.<br />
12 Easylib the online library organizes story telling sessions for kids now and then. They have organised a readathon for kids this year where they'll read as many books as posssible within a given time frame and even write reviews of the books.<br />
13 The Bannerghatta National park which has a zoo, a butterfly park and a safari option.<br />
14 The Bull Temple and adjacent park which has swings and slides and the largest population of bats that I have ever seen on the tall trees!<br />
15 We also visit the nearby BTM lake there is a lakeside garden and swings for the kids and it is a great place to spend the evenings.<br />
16 In Bidadi just outside the city is the Innovative filmcity which has a hefty entry fee but lots of pleasureable pavillions including the wax museum, the 4-D theatre and the Mirror Maze.<br />
17 Chennapatna is about 1 and a half hour car ride on the magnificient Mysore road, it is the hub of wooden toys. the next town down the same road is Ramanagaram the place where the film Sholay was shot.<br />
18 Nandi hills the summer retreat of Tipu sultan is a two hour bus ride from bangalore it is a delightful hillock where the kids and the parents can enjoy a day picnic you can also stay at the government guest houses there. We have spent many hours sitting on the hilltop observing the view down below.<br />
19 Bangalore is the city of gardens and lakes...just pop over to a lake near your house and lay back and watch the birds and the trees stretching their massive branches into the sky. We have a lake nearby which we have to explore...holimavu lake but we get a glimpse of the inmates everyday. Every evening flock upon flock of white water birds (egrets?) fly over our neighbourhood, possibly the birds hunt at the holimavu lake and stay at the BTM layout lake, but its a lovely sight. Often we are so eager to give our children the perfect learning experience that we forget to look out of our own window! While walking to the Brat's music class we have seen several species of birds including a kingfisher and a wide variety of insects and garden lizards. Often we have stopped walking and stood wide eyed, staring at a rare black bird, or a green beetle.<br />
20 I also enjoy gallivanting about the local marketplaces with the kids in tow. Chikpet is the equivalent of Delhi's Chadni Chowk and the kids and I have skipped about in every nook and crany from the silk saari shops at Jama Masjid lane to the wholesale toy shops at Mamunpet.<br />
I have read in the papers of other exciting places too, like a farm house which allows guests to mingle with their animals and take care of them, somewhere on the city outskirts, and an enterprise which gives you bamboo contraptions which attract sparrows...so there is still a lot more to discover and learn. So parents, happy un-Malling!diyahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07467285543383068855noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5282139581331978695.post-72396674956854613402011-04-16T22:59:00.000-07:002011-04-16T23:08:15.642-07:00Of Letting the Kids Go...Yesterday in the newspapers there was a horrific tale of a 14 year old boy drowning at his summer swimming classes which got me into a tizzy and I declined the Brat's request to send her to a pool with her friend. Now, I was wondering how far we should go in the 'holding the kids back department' to ally our fears. The Brat argued long and hard, asking me again and again why I am not letting her go (approaching teens beckon), I told her that she did not know swinmming properly and it would be a risk for her friend's parents who would have to keep an eye on both their daughter ( who is learning swimming) and her. Moreover, it will be an unfamiliar pool where the shallow and deep side will be unknown to her. She tried to assure me that she will not go to the deep side, she just wanted to splash about a bit...after a long arguement, I had to tell her, what I didn't want to at first- the story of the young boy drowning. She kept quiet after that, and did not ask to go again, however I was left wondering whether I had instilled some kind of fear in her young mind which will not allow her to enjoy swimming in later life, or worst still, prevent her from learning swimming.<br />
I was raised on such an atmosphere of parental fears, rather grandparental fears ( for my grandmom was the main worrier in the family followed by my father). Amma was very fearful of any tragedy that might befall me and also her other grand children. I remember she warned my Didi, my aunt's daughter, not to walk near cars, because she had heard of some horrific cases of kidnapping of girls by goons in cars!! This fear has become a nightmarish reality now in Delhi which has thrown up several cases of this sort. I was not allowed to go to friends' houses or to school picnics for fear that some misfortune would befall me. Needless to say, I resented this very much. I know that Amma could not shelter me from my share of bad experiences I battled eve teasers and gropers, I fell of the bus once and scraped my palm ( it could have been much worse because it was a busy Delhi road) and all this happened pretty much under her nose, near our home ( I did not tell anyone about my fall from the bus for fear that they won't let me go to college from the next day!)...but the point is that you cannot shield your child from accidents but you can pray like hell that they are none the worse for them. You can try to warn them, that these accidents may happen and hope that they will remember your words when the time comes. However, I also want my child to enjoy her life. I remember the first time she went for a school picnic she must have been 2years old (or less),I died a thousand deaths all day wondering what she was upto, but I sent her all the same. My parents in law did not want her to be sent, but I stood firm. Her teacher Bindu madam was a pillar of strength, she said, "dodn't worry, she will be ok and she will have a lot of fun..." The whole day I had spine chilling visions, from seeing my baby's hand caught in the slamming bus door to seeing her drown in the picnic pond...by the end of the three hours I was a nervous wreck...I went off to fetch her half an hour before the stipulated time and stood in front of her school gate gnawing at my nails till the picnic bus arrived with the happy children and their teachers...it was a great relief! This successful endeavour put a rest to my fears and I sent her to all school outings, thereafter. Later, I made sure that she attended all the birthday parties she was invited to even if the event was far from home, I dropped her there and brought her back with unfailing regularity. When it was the mite's turn, I was considerably more rational, I ofcorse warned him to keep his hand away from the hinges of the bus door and told him never to stray out of sight of his ma'am and never to go near a water body, but I was thinking of other things besides the mite and his picnic throughout the day. I think I have conquered the urge to constantly shelter the kids and never let them out of my sight...however, I have tried to warn them of the dangers the world outside holds. Now I can only cross my fingers and hope for the best.diyahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07467285543383068855noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5282139581331978695.post-46603051783039299052011-04-07T23:18:00.000-07:002011-04-07T23:18:28.212-07:00Can a Gandhian movement find success in these times??I have been following Anna Hazare's movement with bated breath. To my delight it has gained momentum and the attention of the powers that be. However, promises of another 'committee'is the initial response of the government. Will this movement succeed? What will success mean? An enquiry committee or the actual passing of the Bill or the actual implimentation of the law?? How many people can be brought to justice?? Are we not all corrupt? Is not corruption an accepted practice in our society today? How many times have we given in and accepted to pay a bribe to get our work done?? Who will bring us to book, or will our small 'corruptions' be overshadowed by larger corruptions involving larger sums? A sea of questions overwhelm me, but at least it is a start, a step towards the right direction. I wish all the luck to Anna and his followers. I thank them for rallying the support of the young, I hope something concrete comes out of this....diyahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07467285543383068855noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5282139581331978695.post-76614654853548876332011-04-07T03:23:00.000-07:002011-04-07T03:27:39.119-07:00Black Swan: Still Reeling From its effect!The other day the Mr and I watched Black Swan and my stomach is still churning!! The story might be unique and the message stark but the treatment and the performances were, to my mind, far from what I expected it to be. Firstly, there was hardly a character which was shown to be 'normal' without any obsession. The dancer obsessed with perfection, her mother obssessed with the daughter, the dance director obssessed with his lead dancers, the friend obssessed with having a good time, the ousted dancer obssessed about her dance director....by the end of it, it was difficult to ascertain which obssession the film was dealing with. Natalie Portman had one studied expression throughout, both before and after she goes completely berserk. She is a stunning beauty and the story, on paper, is intriguing but the director has made a hash of it. The sexually explicit scenes can only serve as titilation and nothing more, although, they signify a sort of rebellion by the young ballerina to her mother's oppressive love and possessiveness. The dance master, too had the same expression and it isn't clear what he is thinking or what it is that he is after. all in all it was a dark film with actors not having a clue about how they are supposed to react to what was happenening and it leaves you with a bad feeling in the mouth. Can anyone tell me why it was such a hit with everyone else??diyahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07467285543383068855noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5282139581331978695.post-52766783261986485422011-04-03T02:08:00.000-07:002011-04-03T02:08:01.506-07:00True Grit, Determination and a Great Reward!!So, the cricket world cup has come to India at last!! Thanks to the studied efforts of dhoni and his men. The Delhi boys Kohli and Gambhir have proved that they can carry a match on their shoulders even after Sachin gets out and Sehwag makes a duck!! Their young nerves held on and they managed to ressurect the hopes of an expectant nation. How lucky I am to witness this great victory! In 1983, I was in Class VIII, we had a black and white TV and we had watched the final of the world cup on its blurry screen. In the last few overs the light went off and we followed the match on radio. The thrill of it all!!! There were no fireworks then, celebrating a win with crackers started in the '90s. Thereafter the West Indies came on an India tour and beat us hollow both in the test and one day series!! I was witness to that, we watched the matches held at the Eden Gardens. They extracted 'sweet revenge' proving that our victory was a fluke, a chance triumph of the underdog as a friend pointed out. Not so now!! This time there is no doubt that India is the best team. No one person is responsible for our victory, everybody chipped in.This is what I had wanted to see, a team coming into its own, both skill wise and temperamentally. Hail to the new improved team India...let the celebrations begin!!diyahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07467285543383068855noreply@blogger.com0