Are we one?

Well strange as it may seem this query is something that has been nagging me ever since I started commuting in Bangalore. Pretty often I’ve even had my sympathies shared cent percent by people I have discussed the problem with and all this to an incredulous question shot right back at me, “why the hell are you paying a road tax, When you initially purchase a vehicle?” No matter what I give as an explanation it never actually suffice as a good enough an explanation.

A few friends got together and we were discussing on this topic and it so happened that everyone had a story to tell; each one of us was stopped at some point or the other by a policeman asking us for our papers. Well not of identification but rather our bike or car papers. In spite of all the other papers being in order the only hindrance being that the Karnataka road tax was not paid. Well to be fair, each one of us were let off with a warning and sometimes a light fine. Now the circumstances all point to one, that the very people who claim to have our unity at the very highest of importance is in fact giving it the least priority, the politicians.

It is noticed that the taxes of this state is seemingly higher than that of the other states but come-on there’s no need of an economics lesson to state why one state can levy a tax that is somewhat higher than what it is charged in other states would a uniform tax system solve the problem better. This when the most advanced city in the state is not even in a tier classification of the cities that entitle for a higher tax quotient. (Whew now that’s like a lot of Greek and Latin even for me!).

Now some may get the argument together and even be able to convince people as to the virtues of having a slightly higher tax rate but then take for instance the fighting going on in Maharashtra, one man’s eccentricity for a land belonging to a state, saying other state people cannot stay there! I must rather say if that chappie went way back to his ancestral root he would in fact learn that he was part of another state himself. Further looking or after deeper thought he would realize that the very development of his state is because of people from other states.

Each one of these incidents only leads us to wonder whether we are truly living in a country calling itself the largest democratic nation bound by a single law and government!

Working Spirituality...

An early morning schedule reason enough for irritable behaviour. Braving the chill to attend a workshop, one that had little importance to what we are doing and striving for, isn't exactly something that one looks forth to with eager anticipation. The previous days session was intense enough to actually foretell the fate we were in for the next day. Going on in a steady pace i finally reach the venue and hunt for a shady spot to park my bike.

With a car being parked there i didn't necessarily think it would be too much of a problem if i too followed the same. This unfortunately did not agree with a couple of oldies. the arguement was dont park there but move to a designated parking for bikes. A further glance at the spot indicated only added to the irritation as it was in bright sunlight. An arguement broke out between the two of us, me telling i will not budge it to the spot indicated as it was sunny and him(a senior official; aparently the site manager) aying that it is the only possible area where you can park. A lot of heated exchanges later i tell him that i am moving to a spot where several others from our company had parked their cars.

This incident lay forgotten till lunch time when i bumped into the chappie fromthe morning debate. this time he was a bit more amiable and the usual apologies followed. Some of my collegues standing along with me I think latched on to the plot much before i did and cleverly retreated to other areas safe and far from the two of us. I realised it a bit too late for any action. One thing led to another and pretty soon even before i could realise it i was talking about spirituality. With absolutely no idea of what i am going to talk about i blabber something or the other.

To be truthful i think the other guy actually found my arguments worth discussing about and that the topic we were on something interesting and in his domain. Not usually supportive of topic that have a potential to lead me to violent arguments and moments of brief irritation, i actually find this conversation leading neither here nor there. Much to my surprise the conversation actually helped in creating religious halo over my head and dwelling on topics far from the heart with clarity.

His very idea was that religion is just a platform that allows you to reach a level that in its own way allows you to dwell into a deeper state of being making you feel at peace and listen to your subconscious. Well rather than arguing i thought this time i might as well ,play the listener and for once it worked like a charm.

For a day that began with irritation, gloom and anger this must have been a fitting tribute to an end where a new relationship is founded. I dont think i did meet the other person after that much and neither did i think that he would remember me, but surprises they say are worthwhile and i did get one when i bumped into the same person a few days back bringing into mind the day when we had a working session filled with spirituality. He did recognise me and i releaved that there was no bad vibes with the guy about me. Much to my relief.

Pretenses...

Pretenses! The very definition says: The act of giving a false appearance. Pretending with intention to deceive.

Another question that really tingles your senses is, why do people put forth false appearances? The reason why i am i am begining it this fashion is.... simple i have absolutely no clue to the same question.

(I was dwelling on this question for some time, which inturn, actually got me into a study of the behavioural patterns of the human race and the believe me it is not a small area to swim in. so cutting short to make it more readable and précis, well atleast trying to, i did happen to chance in on another fellow bloggers article with the same dilemma.)

The use of the word "pretenses" here is perhaps slightly confusing to a modern reader since "pretense", in the modern sense of the word, is the conscious creation of fiction, but in the former sense of the word, as it was borrowed from the French language, it simply meant "claim" or sometimes "belief".

Below are some instances of people not being themselves
a) people are trying their best to create attention
b) people are saying " i will try my best to make it to the party or to that place (where invited)", when they simply cannot make it
c) people pulling in their tummies when a woman walks by
d) people saying good about one person and saying bad the next minute behind their backs
e) people show off in front of people that they like A PERSON but in their hearts of heart they do not
f) people who actually act busy when in reality they aren't
g) people who wish you well when you actually want the inverse to happen
h) people who project a different character when they are infact a totally different person

in this sojourn of mine on earth i strive, and I end this topic with a question hoping, to get an answer for this.

what is it that drives people to change their identity?

Zephyrs of Change

An idyllic day, simple in its very dawn, splattered with a few errands and queries, one culminating into a full fledged argument, the victory though sweet still has a touch of discomfort. Must be due to the fact that an overdose of high adrenalin tends to raise your blood preassure a notch too high for your comfort. But then the satisfaction is derived on the winning. Well worth the effort and especially if you take into account the benefits of getting something done free. Riding over bumpy roads is bound to give any rider a sore bottom, here being no different.

A couple of hours later i find myself at a friends place and from there over a healthy lunch we hatch a plan of driving down to a forest nearby... the front runners being, coorg, ooty, bandipur, mudumalai, masinagudi, kerala. debating over the financial aspects and ease of accessibility along with the fact of maximum coverage we zero in on masinagudi. Masinagudi, a rusty little village town often poofed about or zipped passed by travellers to Ooty. A town that is generally just a blur out of the window as people whizz past in a hurry to get to ooty with the ocassional car stopping to tank up on goodies and liquids. The drive through masinagudi actually allows you to go through the bandipur forest and added to that you also get to cross the state border. The forest famed for the its abundance of wildlife viz; panthers, leapords, Elephants, Deer, Gaurs and monkeys.

A lot of people actually take this route to enjoy the lush paradise and even get closer to the calls of nature. but rarely does one stop over at this place to actually stay and chill out in.

We coax ourselves to get past the major part of the wait and after a decent enough wait we pack and are all set to go. stacked high on the electronic front we proceed to the jungle. The first hurdle presents itself with the starting itself in the form of a concrete jungle each one of us have come to inhabit so lovingly called the garden city, Bangalore. The traffic strong and the pace hypnotic. Inching our way past the evening rush of the city, turning into by-lanes and through narrow lanes with pot holes the size of truck we finally hit the Mysore highway. The going from there get really smooth and fast.... in no time we reach Mysore.

Reaching Mysore we head to a hotel called parklane, and as the name suggests it is a hotel that has the outside replicated inside. Well atleast thats what it was the last time i went there. Expecting the same the three of us go in only to walk into a lobby suitable for a three star hotel... Well what the hell we still go to the restaurant and i still remember it as the first floor of the previous time. the theme totally changed and the food still cheap. Have our fill both intellectually and nutritionally, guess you must be wondering why. Well, we were there discussing on the after effects of the world economy and why its been happening that way and each one of us trying to explain to the other two his version of the situation. Hilariously i must say time does fly when you are actually engrossed into such matters.

But then again no dinner is complete without dessert, not interms of diet but verbal. This time the issue was smoking in public. we asked for the ashtray only to be told that the premisis cannot be used for smoking and its banned, ridiculously only a few tables down sat a motley group of locales happily enjoying a drag. But what enraged us was that the waiter denied the very fact that they were smoking and said that he could not see it. This clearly got us hot and voices were raised only then did the maitre d' come and tell us that they were locals and they did not want any problems...

Apparently the smoking ban goes by the ration card. If you are a local apparently the ban is not effective. Wow, it happens only in India!!!

Putting all that aside we did not want to spoil the whole fun and we carry on to Masinagudi. The path interspersed with good roads, decent roads, bad roads and no roads make for tough driving conditions yet enjoyable. we finally hit the forest and actually manage to catch a pair of wild elephant at close quarters, dont know if tere where any around us but hell the very thought of getting to seeing on is absolutely high on the adrenaline. In no time we hit the border checkpost where we were asked for Rs. 20/- never actually having heard about such an arrangement i enquire as to the reason only to be told its a leaving fee. What?! refusing to buy the story it gets changed to pooja donation, I tell him i dont do pooja and this time it changes to tea money! Wow the stories people go to make a quick buck. We get by not paying anything. after another 30 minutes we hit another check post this time i go and make the mistake of actually picking on an argument with the cop on duty.

The cop claimed to have put up a hoarding some 10 kms back and we claim to not have seen any. this infuriates the cops even more as it now seems that the statement shows him in a bad light. to top it all there goes another friend of mine clicking pictures of the checkpost boards. APparently photography isn't allowed there and below it written in marker pen is the warning for a fine if caught with a trigger happy finger. A lot of coaxing and arguements later we continue on our way to masinagudi. Expecting a long drive we shortly discover that masinagudi is about two stones throw from the checkpost. The town wears a deserted look, but then what do you expect at 3:00am? we continue uncertian of our destination, ooty or masinagudi? A bit of a dilemma at the wee hours of the morning. finally our senses get the better of our adventerous streak and we return back to Masinagudi.

At masinagudi we are greeted with a light drizzle that soon truns into a heavy downpour, heavy enough to take our car with the force of the flow. Knocking at lodges at such an ungodly hour can be unpleasant and added to our woes is the heavy downpour. BRRRRRRR...... a helpful intervention saves the conseirge of a lodge from be mauled to death by my hands. So we go to the place suggested only to be told that another set of stranded travellers have just booked in rendering the lodge full. Enquiring further we are directed to another resort and ther we find refuge from the wrath of nature finally at 4:30 in the morning.

Since our day had already begun we get up from our nap and re-energising ourselves with a hot cuppa tea we move on back to mysore all set to explore the city, zoo, culture and most of all the dussera festivities. Reaching Mysore early noon we head for the zooand to what seems like a three kilometer walk encompassing a varied collection of fauna and flora. as the day comes to an end we are ushered out of the zoo premises and we head to the Mysore Palace all decked up in tune with the festivities. It is really a sight to see. the only downside is the crowd but then again the crowd and the varied crossection of people jostling for a glimpse of the whole works only adds to the fun and the experience of the spirit of celebration...

Getting late we head out of the city and head back to electronic age heady with a healthy dose of heritage and the wild. The holiday rush catching up with us back on our way to Bangalore, we sit and look back on all the small instance that make every journey special and different. The joys, hardships and decisions each playing its own relative part in making a holiday magical.

A tryst with delicate might

Another day dawned late, the after effects of the previous day’s activities still reeling in my mind I start the day uncertain to the chain of events that are yet to be unraveled.

A late start to a beautiful day, uncertainty and boredom the only co-passengers on my ride. Its then that I decide why waste a good day travel a bit more and at least visit the much spoken about National Park at Bannergattha. Having no clue as to whereabouts of the national park I continue down the Bannergattha Road thinking it will lead me to the park automatically. Well I did find out that the park is approximately 40 kms on the outskirts of the city. Other than this my knowledge of the whole area is "ZILCH".

I keep going down the road and I keep going on and on for nearly 60 kms but no sight of the park. Well I guess it must have been due to the much clichéd fact of male genes, for not asking questions that I kept going. After 60kms I swallowed my male pride and asked a passerby as to the directions of the national park. Guess what, in his broken tamil and fluent kannada I get to know that the park is around 23kms behind me.

I go back and find the park. Park my bike and proceed to the ticket counter. As I exit the parking lot I get to a queue and I am like hello where are the ticket booths!!! I ask a lady in front of me if this is the queue to the entry to the zoo. Well as perplexed as I was so was she! The long queue snaked a course along the walls of the national park and the lady in front of me actually finished two ears of corn before we actually got beside the wall. Whew upon entering the park, thinking the worst is over, I discover that I thought too soon. Here I was pushed into a queue, one longer than the one I just got past.

Whew! I am pushed into a pathway just enough to accommodate one adult. This queue actually had me thinking if all this was worth but a call from a friend assured me that no matter what the sight of the cats is worth any queue, stench and pain. After an hour of waiting in the queue I finally get to board a bus bypassing a whole line, around two bus load of people as I was the only single guy there awaiting a glance of the mighty jungle cats. Who else but the biggest cat to be your first sight. The mighty lion as usual resting under the shade provides for the perfect photo session. Hmmm. From then on each sighting only got better. The dosage of the cats just too much, also combined to this is the enthusiasm of the people, going from one side to another. The force in which this happens only wants you to pray god please don’t let the bus tip over to the other side.

Secretly well I did wish the tigers or the lions actually charged the bus to actually liven the whole trip but well that still remains as a wish. Hope someday it does happen!!

We get back to the main park area and from there I head straight to the butterfly conservatory… I know a lot of you will ask what is there in a butterfly conservatory to actually be of any interest. My sentiments exactly but once you enter the conservatory you feel like you have entered a totally different world. The greens combined with the high domed glass roof dotted with conical pods for the butterflies, think they are the pods that serve as the hatchery for the eggs, and the carefree flutter of the delicate butterfly, wow its just too much to explain and something you got to actually see to ever get to know what I am talking about.

Well after a walk with my flutter counterparts in this stage called life I must get back although I would have loved to spend the whole day there, learn more and live amongst them. The concrete jungle beckons me to live another day amidst the concrete blocks with manmade colors, making me want to visit the natural world to enjoy its fruits undisturbed and with a better understanding…

Inexcusable behavior…

Well there comes a time when what you give is what you get. Well I especially should have been aware of this fact better than anyone because it’s a policy that I stick on to religiously.
Then what is it that makes you behave otherwise? Complex as it may seem I think it is what makes us more human otherwise we would have on saints walking around without any human to actually give credit to the proverb, to err is human and to forgive divine…
Well that’s it for now but what the heck still trying to figure out the answer to this problem and I am sure I will update this topic.

I did tell that I was going to update this topic whenever I could figure out what it is that actually provokes us into doing or saying the things we almost always regret right afterwards.

There are times when you actually feel that you have become the worst of yourself. Feeling sometimes that you have opened up a pandora’s box of all your hated traits; your anger, your spite, your condescends. When someone or something provokes you, you instead of smiling and moving along actually take them on.

Once the confrontation is over all you are capable of doing is going back home and spend the rest of your time tossing and turning over thinking of all the things you could have said but end up regretting the thing you said. There may be a few of you out there who would actually argue that it’s a way of getting rid of your temper, calming down, letting your steam out etc etc… it only ends up causing a lot more damage than actually help you blow your steam off…

Well blame it on human behaviour (again it’s so typical isn’t; we always manage to find someone else to put the blame on), like we are all taught to from our infancy… Pun Intended.

Hmmm, you finally realize that when you have the pleasure of saying the things that you mean to say at the moment to mean to say it, remorse inevitably follows.

60 an hour…

A while back I was riding back in a car with my cuz and grandmother when we had to halt at this very busy traffic signal. Like all busy traffic signal, each a host to several wild but absurd ideas of making a quick buck, this one too had its share of the pie. Well each one of us gets caught in this seemingly harmless waste of time, nonnegotiable, unavoidable and always in the eye of the big belly of law…

Well I know not many would have got it and quite a few will term it a PJ in every sense once the explanation is over….. Okay here goes… I basically took law as the long arm and the cops the big belly as the physique needed to be a cop in India is a big belly… looks like the classification/cadre of the Indian police force is determined by the size of the stomach.

Coming back before I deviate any further, our car windows were knocked on by several vendor, a guy selling sunglass’ of a reputed brand , another selling magazines, a couple of small kids doing a mini but poorly orchestrated show and another with a yellow cloth, apparently its supposed to be for the car windscreen. After rejecting all the above said participants of global marketing and entertainment in about 30 seconds we have the national job of all lazy Indians, Begging.

Off late a new dimension has been added to this scenario. The armless and lame man has already become passé/cliché. Now it’s the turn of the mother. True enough it wasn’t long before a knock made me turn to my side of the window. I look to my cousin and with looks communicate what’s to be done. She nods a refusal and I shake my head at the woman and she carries on.
After she had gone a couple of cars down my sister reveals something that shocks me. Well everybody in the car I must say. Apparently a couple of days back she read in an article in some newspaper, which covered a very weird topic. Apparently the article stated that these women who come to your car knocking for some change is actually not the mother of the child. We were like, WHAT!!!!

The article went on to state that the city cops had arrested a gang who were giving out babies on hire. The gang ran a crèche for the upper lower class and the lower middle class people the ones where the folks were both bread winners and did not have enough to put their kid in a play school. The gang was exposed, when one day a parent was not feeling well and happened to return early to collect the child and the people at the crèche started making excuses trying to delay the return of the child. Initially the parent accepted the reasons and waited for half an hour but growing weary the parent started getting suspicious and demanded the return of her child. Helpless when the crèche people did not cooperate she sought the help of the police and that’s when they got to the bottom of the whole affair.

Apparently the couple who ran the crèche were renting out the children they were taking care of. Imagine the very thought of a parent travelling in a local bus and while looking out you look into the eyes of your toddler lying limb in the hands of a stranger and think, “poor kid looks so much like my but thank heavens mine is safe in a crèche”. How wrong you are….

Apparently the running rate was Rs. 60 an hour.