When I came to Europe, I was struck by the orderliness, discipline, cleanliness, beauty of Europe, but a week down the line, I was home-sick! I still am! But there is something more that happened when I came to Europe. I realized how vast, multi-cultural, diverse and complex India is! And well, also how synonymous India is to Bollywood!

Wherever I go, I meet India enthusiasts and well……..here are some that will be etched in my memory forever………

1. University Cycle Repair Shop

I had a minor problem with the chain of my bicycle so I went to University cycle repair shop. The assistant there helped me mount the cycle on the chains and started his work. Two questions about the cycle and then, “I went to see Rab ne bana di jodi, it was fantastic”. I thought I heard him wrong. But he repeated and well, I said a hesitant, ya, it was ok, not so good. And then, “I went to London to watch the premiere of the movie but I didn’t get tickets, so I went to an Indian restaurant, ate and came back”. I was tempted to say, No one in India probably will bother that much! But he was saying it with such passion. Next question, “Is it true that the girl and boy don’t see each other before the marriage?”. Now, this was a trick question. I know in some parts of the country they don’t, but in a large part, this is allowed. My reply was the standard, “You can’t really generalize anything about India, there is a whole spectrum in everything”. Next question, “Do you eat spicy food every day, three times a day?”. Ah well, I didn’t think our food was spicy at all until I tasted food in Eruope! And then, he launched into what movies he has loved. He was a fan of Aamir Khan and Rishi Kapoor. He didn’t like Shammi Kapoor (”he seems like he’s in an epileptic fit”) but he loved Raj Kapoor (I wonder how!!!). He likes Madhuri Dixit’s dance (who doesn’t?) but he thinks Aishwarya Rai is prettier! For 20 minutes flat he spoke effortlessly about Bollywood and struggled in equal measure with my cycle-brakes! When I was leaving, he said with a very sad expression, “Some day, I want to go to India and I’m sure, I won’t come back”.

2. Ecohostel Andromeda

My friend stayed in a boat hotel and unfortunately, forgot to hand over the keys while checking out. So, I went to drop the keys to the room. A girl and a boy own the boat hotel and they thanked me profusely for returning the key. I was about to leave but the girl asks me a surprising, “Tell me something about India”. I was a little stumped (I’ve never been able to answer this question, this IS no one answer to this question. If it’s Belgium, you say, it’s the land of chocolates and beers but what do you say about India?). I asked her to be more specific and well, first question: Why do women in India wear that dot on their forehead? Uhmm…….well, I think it’s one of the chakras of Yoga, the seat of wisdom, I think. And she was mighty impressed. Next question: But why do only married women wear it? Uhmm…………I guess they need more wisdom to get the husband up from in front of the TV and help in house-work. She laughed heartily and next question: Why is it red in colour? Ah well, I don’t know frankly. I guess red is the colour of marriage and red bindi signifies marriage. Next question: Do people in India really wear the clothes they show in Bollywood movies? I was tempted to ask, which one have you seen? But I sort of knew the answer already. It must be the “Kabhi Khushi Kabhi Gham” (that’s the one EVERYONE here has seen). And I assured her, such clothes are worn pretty much once in a life-time, on our marriages. Next question: Will your marriage be Bollywood style as well, lots of Music and dance and 200 people dancing with coordinated movements? This time, I couldn’t resist it! I REALLY laughed! After I’d recovered, I immediately thought of Ram, Sathya and Laasya doing a coordinated “Khwaja Mere Khwaja”. And God! I laughed again! I assured her that no one in India does such coordinated dances in the weddings, at least not 200 people and definitely not in most marriages! After answering a plethora of other questions about spices, sarees, clay-jewellery, child-labour, I finally left. Smiling to myself, I thought, India is so many things!!!!!! As the girl rightly put it, “They should declare India a continent, it’s NOT one country”.

3. On the bus stop in City Centre

One old chirpy woman sat next to me as I waited for a bus to head back home. I had worn the salwar-kurta that day and the woman had been eyeing me with sort of an adoration for some time. She broke the silence eventually and first question: Is that a comfortable dress? I was like, Ya, I think so. Next question: You’re from India? I answered in affirmative. Next question: Why do you wear that dot on your forehead? (Bindi sure is the centre of most curiosity!!!) I explained the chakra theory again. Her remark to that: Indian culture is so rich, we don’t have anything in the name of culture here really. I assured her that there are pros and cons associated with what you call “culture”. She smiled and next question: “Is it true that people are divided in India based on what community their parents belonged to? I said yes, but the trend is changing and people are gradually beginning to open up to the idea of all human beings being equal, at least in my generation. She was so happy hearing this. And she said: I saw a program on TV about India (and the TV here SURE is on an overdrive to educate people about India) and I saw the trains. One man was selling food in train. Is that how it is in India? I answered yes. Somehow, this amused her a great deal. And then,she went on asking about India’s take on spirituality and Nirvana, about Varanasi and death rites. When the bus finally arrived, she left very reluctantly and well, wished me a marriage just like it is in Bollywood!

After I came here, I got to know how much fascination there is about India, the land of bindi, spices, colours and Bollywood………..

मुझको भी तरकीब सिखा कोई यार जुलाहे

अक्सर तुझको देखा है कि ताना बुनते

जब कोई तागा टूट गया या ख़तम हुआ

फिर से बांधके और सिरा कोई जोड़ के उसमें

आगे बुनने लगते हो

तेरे इस ताने में लेकिन, इक भी गाँठ गिरह बुन्तर की

देख नहीं सकता है कोई

मैंने तो एक बार बुना था एक ही रिश्ता

लेकिन उसकी साड़ी गिरहें साफ़ नज़र आती हैं मेरे यार जुलाहे

I have had the audacity to write back to such lovely words from none other than Gulzar Saheb

क्या तुझको तरकीब सिखाऊँ, क्या कह दूं मैं

ताने बाने बुनते बुनते मैंने सीखा

छोटी छोटी गांठें जब जब बांधीं मैंने

उनको अनगिन तानों तले दबाया मैंने

छोटी सी वो गाँठ तो यूँ ही छिप जाती है

सुन्दर तानों बानों के बीच कहीं पर

जब तक तुम न ढूंढो उन गाठों को मन से

बिना गाँठ का दामन ही आएगा सामने

वो कहते हैं न, जो ढूंढोगे वो पाओगे

ये तो बस अपनी अपनी इच्छाओं पर है

गाँठ अगर ढूंढोगे तो फिर गाँठ मिलेगी

कितने ही तानों बानों से उसको ढक लो चाहे

दामन आये हाथ में तो गांठों को छोड़ो

केवल ताने बाने नहीं मिला करते हैं

रेशम की डोरी में गाठें भी, ताने भी

ये तो अपनी नज़र नज़र की बात है यारों

एक गाँठ गर आ जाए रिश्ते में तो क्या

उसके ऊपर बुन दो कई ताने बाने तुम

बस इतना करना की पलट पलट के

उन गांठों को ढूँढने की कोशिश न करना

क्या तुझको तरकीब सिखाऊँ, क्या बोलूँ मैं

ताने बाने बुनते बुनते मैंने सीखा……………………

(Thanks to Sandeep who sent me the prose from Gulzar saheb and planted the idea in my head to write back)

Spring came and went, and so did fall

Nothing and no one could stop my crawl

…

And here I am, alone on this bend

Only one more can join me here, my friend

…

A friend that needs no words, to read me

No ifs and buts, no begging, no plea

…

Whose aura fills my days, my soul

The one to complete me, to make me whole, 

…

The one whom I need and who needs me

My fountain of delight, my source of glee

…

Just he and I fill all my world

In a bat of an eye, all dreams unfurled

…

Spring still comes and goes and so does fall

But I no longer need to crawl……..

…

The credit for this verse goes to Sandeep, who inspired it……it’s a translation of his thoughts stated on:

http://nanocreator.blogspot.com/2009/05/blog-post.html

A white expanse, spotless and bright

And a small crack, black as the night

Barren walls and a darkened room

A small lamp, warding off the gloom

.

It take some white to see a small black

A small lamp to light a dark shack

My soul whispers something to me

Some rapid words, a silent plea

.

When life screams, whispers fade

Of noise the whispers are afraid

Let silence prevail, for a short while

Let whispers talk, laugh and smile………

In a vast black, stood out those white dots

A hand came out of nowhere and joined two

Then, another and yet another

Before I knew, I was looking at something

Something odd, could be anything at all

A tree, a flower, a beast, an angel, a cup

I know not for I see it from here, far off

Who knows what it really was

Hands kept coming and joining the dots

Until the dots became me, looked like me

Day after day and day after day………

- Pritesh

Picture this, you’re in a restaurant. A salad arrives, topped with many things……you take a bite off the small beautifully cut red radish and say, Yummm! These radishes are lovely! Moments later, the waiter walks to your table, plate in his hand……full of beautifully cut red radishes! You go Aww……….the waiter smiles and brushes your profuse gratitude aside with a wave of his hand. You leave the restaurant, vowing to come there again whenever time permits because you’re “impressed”. The waiter has something to gain here, possibly. Or maybe, he doesn’t! For what you’re paying, it’s perfectly logical for him to serve what you ordered. Outside it, does it qualify for lack of logic? The voice in our head tells us, he did it because he stood to gain from it.

Now, picture another situation. You’re in a foreign country, you get onto the bus but don’t have enough change to pay for the ticket. Just then,  a lady walks forth, pays the balance and without waiting for a thanks, goes on her way. You may possibly never meet her again in your life, so she stands nothing to gain from paying a small amount for your ticket! This is a neutral situation and it was perfectly logical for her to go about her business without having to bother about a foreigner who didn’t have money enough.

A third situation. There are communal riots and a minority groups family seeks refuge in a majority groups family’s house. Not only does the host family give them refuge, it even tends to the hurt, lies to their friends about their “guests”. It was perfectly logical for this family to refuse shelter to the refugee family as this would mean a threat to their own survival!

Why does it happen that we stray from logic and do things that wouldn’t make sense to a cold-hard-logic-driven-world? And sometimes, even at risk of our own survival? This time, I really am merely posing a question………..though I don’t have an answer, I see the consequences of this ‘deviation from logic’. This makes the world a so much more beautiful place to live in…….full of gestures that touch your heart!

But is all lack of logic in one direction? Now, to the other end of the spectrum……

Picture a society living in harmony. Religion is not a bone of contention at all. And then, a small feud sparks up between two people. One kills the other in a fit of rage and it so happens that the one who died was from a minorty population. It is perfectly logical to treat that situation as a conflict between two people. But no, it sparks communal riots. People who had absolutely nothing to do with either the perpetrator or the victim of the “crime” take to roads. A carnage ensues………people completely unrelated to the event/people suffer and people completely unrelated to the incident go about killing them………

The lack of logic here makes the world a strange place to be in where one never knows when one will be attacked for “happening to be” a certain way! 

Will a perfectly logical world be a better place to live in? Will it be free of the ‘problems’ of an illogical world? Will it also be free of ‘good things’ that an illogical world has?

- Pritesh

T: Oh dear, my heart says I’m in love with you

C: Oh really? But heart doesn’t speak. It has only blood, whose pH is 7.4

T: Ya, true but my love for you hasn’t decreased a picometre ever since I fell for you

C: Picometre? Is love measured in distance?

T: I don’t know. Maybe, it’s the depth of love in the heart and hence the distance unit

C: But we just established heart doesn’t have love

T: Oh ok, how’s picogram?

C: Makes sense. After all, love is nothing but a chemical “locha” in the mind! Oxytocin, dopamine and serotonin at work

T: So, picograms final?

C: Oh no no. That’s not a standard. Let’s make it picomoles, that would be IUPAC approved!

T: (looking a little harrassed) Ah ya, I suppose so…….

C: (looking triumphant) Yay!

And so the chemist and theoretician lived on, together……………..:-)

[PS: IUPAC is International Union for Pure and Applied Chemistry]

I invite you all to complete the series of five sentences below:

1. If I had an hour more per day……..

2. If I get a 10% raise in my salary……….

3. If I meet one new person everyday of my life………

4. If I were to die today………..

5. If I had an oppotunity, one skill I would like to acquire…..

So, get going!

I walked along the known trail

Lazy steps and carefree soul

Watching the sun go red

As I took my evening stroll

.

I picked a leaf, off a giant tree

And off a tiny sapling too

Never giving it a second thought

What to them, it will do

.

Morning dawned, I walked again

The tree as it was the other day

But nothing of the sapling was

Where it once, shyly, lay

.

I asked the tree, what all this meant

And where the sapling had to go

The tree yawned, looked at me

And said, Do you really want to know?

.

“The first leaf was all it had,

The poor sapling, down below

It never will, come out again

To become a tree, or to grow”

.

“A leaf lost isn’t much to me,

Many more will take its place

By end of day, I will forget

The leaf’s fate, I will embrace”

.

“The sapling though, will not be

A sapling or tree anymore

By now, it will have gone back

To where it was before…………

I, a sprout, spring into youth,

I watch my first bud, callow;

I look the world in the eye,

In pride and dignity I wallow.

But a prying hand thrusts forward,

Tears away my youthful bloom,

And with it my naiveté;

Pain, I bury in my pride’s tomb.

The shoot blossoms into flowers,

The fragrant culmination of life’s wonder.

But my glaring eyes wary of the world,

Seek deliverance from man’s plunder.

A man walks by to enjoy the aroma

That my flowers emanate.

The gardener tends to my fruit;

He cares for me, his touch affectionate.

I wince away, reign my bridled love.

My sapling scars can never heal.

‘Man’, you who took my youth away,

I ask, “Candid rapture, can I ever feel?”

- Ananth and Pritesh

(Dedicated to women. Women have so learnt to live with stares, groping hands, lecherous gestures that they no longer can trust a first glance of genuine care and affection with complete abandon, wary as they have become)

As the Kingfisher flight from Bangalore to Pune came to an end, the crew began handing out the feedback forms to the passengers. Many didn’t take them but I did. I really liked their service and wanted to leave an encouraging note to them to continue serving this well. The lady next to me saw me taking a feedback form and said, “You have complaints against their service?”. I was a little surprised but I answered in negative. She added, “Then, how come a feedback form? Isn’t it only for complaining about thigs that weren’t proper?”. I mumbled a “I don’t think so” and started filling the form with superlatives. I was very happy with the way I’d been treated, both on-board and during check-in, a helping hand and smile always ready. In short, my best flying experience so far!

As I got off the plane and waited for being picked up, I started thinking about that lady’s comment. “Feedback”? Equal to “complaining”? And then, sprang some more incidents to my memory. An auto driver in Bangalore who religiously used hand signs on all signals, spoke very gently and didn’t ask for illogical surplus fare (a REAL surprise after my experience with auto-drivers). When I got off, I said a thank you and “Keep up the good work”. I tried giving him ten rupees extra but he refused and left with a smile. A juice-shop owner at Delhi airport who roamed around at the airport for 15 minutes to return my purse I’d forgotten in his shop. A guard at Bangalore airport who was checking the identification of all the passengers and taxi-drivers to make sure no unauthentic person entered the airport premises (I was sad to see that some passengers were making it an ego issue for having to show their identification). Another thank you, a smile exchanged and satisfaction!

How many times do we take a few moments to thank someone who is doing a good job of what they’re supposed to be doing? And compare it with how many times we make it a point to scream, shout, complain about someone who’s not doing their job the way they’re supposed to be doing. My attempts at thanking someone doing good work have sometimes met with “It’s his job and he’s doing it, what’s there to appreciate?”. 

Maybe a little appreciation of their sincerity is all we need to encourage the good people in the world to continue to be good. And who knows, this may encourage some not-so-good ones into becoming better! A small “Thank you” and “Keep up the good work” will not hurt us, but it may bring a smile to someone who continues to do the same thing year after year, often thanklessly! It’s my sincere request to all the readers, the next time you see someone like that, please thank them for their spirit of good work! A little appreciation goes a long way……….

The notes rose and fell
A melody made for me
A haunting tune, a harmony
A bit of love, a plea

The notes just rain on
And I stand here, drenched
In the melody and love
In my trance entrenched

The veil of time falls
And I melt into her
She becomes me
And we become a blur

The angel descends
And sings a song for me
Taking me in her arms
And merges with eternity

- Pritesh (dedicated to my late niece Aksha, wish I could’ve seen her just once before she left us)

Ah well, I start this chain and ask few of my friends to post this one (read Neha’s and was SO inspired to write mine too)…………

Hmmmm…………..100 things I like? Let me get started

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1. Laughing (has to be No. 1)

2. Mom, I adore her strength, talent and COOKING!

3. Meenakshi Aunty’s food and love!

4. Lengthy discussions with Ananth about various issues and philosophies

5. An infant’s tiny fingers when they wrap around my fingers and don’t let go

6. Ananth’s song lyrics!!!!!!!! All the la la la las

7. Ganesha!!!!!!!!!!

8. SKYPE! Saves me a world of trouble!

9. Positive attitude

10. Photography!!!!!

11. Long days when I’ve done a lot of work

12. Rangolis

13. READING! I can read for hours without eating or moving!

14. Talking to Laas for hours at length and laughing my head off

15. Singing out loud (often out of tune)

16. Children waving at me

17. Rhythmica performances

18. Seeing friends’ pictures

19. Waking up to sunlight streaming through windows

20. Ram’s stupid jokes

21. Forrest Gump!!!!!!

22. Painting something new

23. Sujju’s cartoons

24. Ananth’s SMSes to wake up to

25. Writing mails to friends

26. Tata’s mails & forwards

27. Correcting Sathya, Sandeep and Vinod’s English

28. Surprise calls

29. Singing while working

30. Orkut friend requests from friends I haven’t met in years! (Thanks to Orkut)

31. Dhokla in Asha Sweets

32. Arguing with Dad and letting him win

33. Baba’s and Chhotu’s warm hugs

34. Jan’s enthusiasm

35. Calling up home

36. Frederick’s silly jokes

37. Watching the sun rise/set on a beach

38. Coffee flavoured candies

39. Karthik’s blogs

40. Anju Mummy’s impromptu lunches/dinners

41. Dad’s old “Rajesh Khanna” style shirts!!!!!

42. Bhaiya’s old tool-box

43. Recording my voice and then, cribbing about my bad singing

44. Jackfruit sabji!!!!!!!!

45. Forest walks

46. Neha’s non-stop laughter

47. Mad all-night gappein-sessions with Pachi, Shivu and Kripa

48. Bhoot ke peechhe bhoot!

49. Cute children videos

50. Funny movies…….Hera Pheri, Andaz Apna Apna, Golmaal etc.

51. String Art

52. Organizing and reorganizing my room

53. Having a heart-to-heart with Ananth after a demanding day

54. Old pictures on the walls

55. Musee d’Louvre

56. Mom’s Suji Burfi

57. Staplers! (I think it’s a great invention)

58. My Sony Camera! I take it everywhere I go!

59. Frozen spinach!

60. Jeera papads

61. Salsa!!!!

62. Chaats!!! Any time of the day! Masaledaar! Aha!

63. Stationary

64. Dry towels after bath!

65. Taj Mahal

66. Big pillows

67. Coffee!

68. Bean bags!!!!

69. Post-Its (my life line)

70. Cadbury’s Gems

71. Schleiper Art Collection!!!!

72. Ikea furniture

73. Baba’s sketching

74. Pachi’s painted t-shirts

75. Nanjamma!

76. Girish’s calm

77. Walking in warm rain and getting soaked to the skin

78. Mountains!

79. Wooden huts

80. Dew drops!!!

81. Talks on TED

82. Youtube!!!!!!!!!!!

83. Gossip on Rediff!

84. Nilu’s crispy fish fry

85. Making cards for people

86. Happy and trusting people

87. PVR in Delhi!

88. Kamlanagar walks after College

89. Ananth’s childhood stories (never ending really! )

90. Festival decorations in shopping areas

91. Candles on a cake!

92. Cycling

93. Creative crafts

94. Red bags

95. Snowfall

96. Cold water in Delhi heat

97. Sleeping with a clutter-free mind

98. Orange candies!

99. Wikipedia

100. AND………Being in love!

“Knock knock”, “Who’s there?”
Opportunit! Do you care?
No, I’m busy being sad
Over the things gone bad

“Knock knock”, “Who’s there?”
Opportunity! Do you care?
Care I would if I had time
I’m so stuck in this slime

“Knock knock”, “Who’s there?”
Opportunity! Do you care?
So, you’ve come to trick me?
And give me pain for free?

“Knock knock”, “Who’s there?”
Opportunity! Do you care?
I am unlucky, why are you here?
I’ll wait for luck, you disappear

“Knock knock”, “Who’s there?”
Opportunity! Do you care?
Oh yes yes, I welcome you
Bring in your friends too……..

- my tribute to the thought “Life isn’t about what you have, it is what you make of what you have”………….

When Gujarat burned in 2002, the atrocities committed made even the hardest of the heart shudder. “So inhuman!” seemed to be the universal response of all those who had any conscience left in them! Gujarat is a mere example. There are numerous instances where the ordinary people with ordinary lives become “mobs” and commit unthinkable crimes. This raises an obvious question, what turns these people into such monsters? Just before the “mob” started, these very people were walking around, leading perfectly ‘normal’ lives, dealing with others on a human basis! And then, something changes! Something changes rather drastically, I’d say. It may probably be an exercise worthwhile to try to “understand” what converts a normal human being to a part of a violent and destructive “mob”.

After considerable amount of thinking, reading, discussing and “hearing” the experts speak on this topic, I think there are 5 points that made a lot of sense to me, the five things that can convert a bunch of people to blood thirsty monsters…….

1. Sense of power and privileges: When a group is formed, particularly with a patronage from someone or something authoritative, the sense of “power” of the authoritative person/organization is felt by the group too. If there is a good degree of authority, the group even gets some privileges. It’s the “sense of power and privileges” that often can push people over the edge. For example, if a political leader or party  initiates a violent protest and the party has authority, the “mob” (that often consists of people who have nothing to do with the “actual” outcome of the event) feels powerful and privileged. It knows that if something went wrong, there is someone covering up for them, higher up. And sense of power can make people go seriously wrong! History has enough evidences of the same and I needn’t elaborate over this.

2. Someone else’s responsibility: When someone “authoritative” is taking care of what the mob has to do, the individuals that make the mob can answer their inner voice with “Someone else is responsible for this”. We all have a tendency to find someone or something else to blame. And when there is something wrong happening, it’s much easier to say, “It’s so and so who is responsible, not me”. So, the power-holder becomes responsible and mob walks off with a clear conscience! It’s a mutually convenient setup. The mob blames the authority and the authority either blames the mob back or uses power to clean its tracks! Both parties satisfied and the sufferer is the Society!

3. Compromised morality: As soon as the individuals start passing on the responsibility of violence to the authority, there starts a vicious circle of compromised morality being handed back to it in return. Once the group’s surrendered its responsibility, it gets the authority’s morality as a “payback”. In such an event, it’s only natural that the “morality” of the individuals sits back and watches the “authority’s morality” take over. So, a mob is a mere means to propagate the morality that belongs to someone else, a morality that probably belongs to a selfish individual, higher up in the heirarchy and power.

4. Anonymity: Another aspect of being able to shake off your responsibilites is anonymity a group offers. When there is a group committing a crime, it’s easier for a person to turn violent. “There is refuge in numbers” aren’t wasted words. “I’m not the only one doing this, there are others” is an excuse very conveniently thrown forward by escapists. Anonymity can be an important factor in mob psychology, much more than most of us realize. When there isn’t a “face” associated with the crime, the criminals are far more comfortable committing it.

5. Do or die: Once you are a part of a group and avail the privileges offered by the same, it’s hard to break off. This is of particular significance when the group is capable of harming the individual (or the family) physically, financially or mentally or all of them. It may so happen that the group starts off with a good cause but down the road, gets sidetracked and indulges in anti-social activities (for a host of reasons). The transition needn’t be a swift one and is more dangerous when it’s slow. The individuals don’t realize the “gradual” shift of focus and by the time they do, it’s too late to leave. Our Bollywood movies often parrot this philosophy when a person wants to leave a gangster’s organization, “Is dhandhe mein aana mumkin hai, magar baahar jaana? Namumkin”.

Though an analysis of mob psychology makes us feel that we “have it in us”, I feel that we ALSO “have it in us” to not become a mob and remain the ‘normal’ individuals most of us are. It’s the strength that is needed in that deciding moment, when one takes a SMALL step towards turning to a mob. Subsequent steps merely get you closer to becoming a “mob”! So, the key probably lies in not allowing yourself to “start” in the direction…….I hope the “mobs in making” are reading this…….do not become a faceless, nameless murderer or torturer just because someone is covering up for you……..that someone probably doesn’t care a penny for what happens to you and what you become…….if they did, there’d be no mobs and we’ll be a happier India.

I want to thank Philip Zimbardo’s talk on TED.com for getting me started with writing this and Ananth for the discussions that helped me finalize the draft……

Diary of an “Indian Citizen”

1st January 2010: I am at home. Last year, I was in Mysore for work and hit a pub in Bangalore. I danced the night away. But this year onwards, it’s mandatory to pass the spoken Kannada test and obtain a “New Year Celebration” visa to enter the city on 31st December. Damn, I miss “India”. And ya, I’ve to go to Marathi class also today! Multilingual, eh? Huh!

8th January 2010: I’m back home. Am flying tonight to Mumbai for work. It’s annoying to go there. Two weeks prior to my going to Mumbai every time, I have to enroll in these classes to make sure I pass the VISA interview! I no longer know what languages I know and what I don’t!

10th January 2010: Mumbai, the city that rocked once upon a time is unbearable now! I came here in 2008 and they were talking about putting up Marathi signboards. And now? Even the formalities in my Office are in Marathi. People vandalized the office about 3 months ago and that woke the administration up. I hate this imposition! I miss the India where I could travel without having to worry about learning the languages and VISAs for all states! I miss the united India!

22nd March 2010: It’s my Mom’s B’day but I can’t even go to meet her! I forgot to apply for the VISA to return to Uttar Pradesh. After 2 years of residence in Rajasthan, I’ve the residence permit but the residence permit of Uttar Pradesh was taken away! I can only live in one city at a time! I’m sorry Mom! I’ll call you but forgive me, I wish I’d applied for the VISA in time!

3rd July 2010: I’ve such fond memories of the Rock concerts I attended in Delhi two years ago. This year, I won’t be able to go. There are only limited number of VISAs and rock concerts are pretty low on priority! Well, I’ll watch the videos on Youtube, if someone posts them! Shit man, whatever happened to our right to travel and reside freely in the country!

7th September 2010: My loneliest B’day ever! I spent the day working and evening, attending calls. Talked to family on Skype! Applying for VISAs and passing language tests all the time is overwhelming. I prefre to sulk at home than to stand in the never-ending lines for VISAs!

This is what an Indian’s life would become if we tolerate the intolerance towards diversity! The recent developments in Maharashtra and Orissa worry me a great deal! Where is the all famous tolerance for diversity of Indians? Since when has our regional identity started gaining priority over our “Indianness”?

There is nothing even half as spectacular as an Indian market (call me biased, but with only 6 countries I’ve seen, I found the Indian markets most interesting). And no, I’m not talking about the malls that have mushroomed of late. I’m talking about a typical Indian market where most shops are owned not by multinational brands but by small merchants, where the buildings are not centrally air-conditioned but so rickety that they seem to be leaning on each other for survival.

A typical Indian market is a teeming place, with people milling around, goods being sold and purchased, and if you’re not in luck, a couple of stray cows too. To add to the mayhem, there may be some dogs around, and of course, the omnipresent rats! The range of things available in such markets is so wide that it’s almost as if it is a self-sustained world. You can find anything ranging from crockery, vegetables, clothes, house fixtures, electronics………the list is near endless. And all this, within less than a square kilometre.

Just to make the picture clear, I will describe one such trip to a typical Indian marketplace I went to yesterday. The place has a cinema-hall (I forget the name, but all I know is I’ve never been inside it) and the Government Hospital is almost next to it. I hadn’t seen the Government Hospital for years, not because it’s small but because the (already narrow) entrance is so flanked by shops and shop-goers that it is hard for anyone to guess that there is ANYTHING beyond those shops. These “shops” (which are more like shacks made of blue tarpaulin) sell all popular “brands”, just name it and you have it here. There were Woodland shoes (starting at a paltry 110 rupees a pair!!!!!), Gucci bags (once again, the price range starts from 100 rupees which on negotiation can come down to 40 also), Titan watches (starting at 150 rupees, once again), Xike shoes (and the logo looks eerily similar to Nike!), Adibas shoes (from a distance, you can easily confuse it for Adidas!!!)…….and so on.

As I jostled for space to walk (just like so many other pedestrians), there were wars raging around me. Two rickshaw pullers were haggling for space in front of the cart of a pear seller, who in turn wanted both to disappear as they were “blocking” the ‘customers’ (there were none in sight really)! Once in a while, two people crossed each other, recognized and a conversation started. It’s amazing as to how oblivious people become to where they are once they start talking. So, as cars honked away to glory, pedestrians stared angrily and cycle-riders maneuvered themselves around, the two friends chatted about children, their schooling, financial status at home, how “Bhabhiji” was doing, whether the run down fan was fixed, how hot the weather was, how the neighbour’s daughter had run away with someone of another caste etc. Please don’t assume that I was eavesdropping!!!! The conversation was being telecast with volume levels high enough to have everyone within 10 metres radius hearing, most of the times much to their amusement.

We had to go to this place called Nainital Road (the road didn’t look like it could go to Nainital though!!!!). The shop was full of pipes of various radii, water pumps (our domestic water pump had broken down and hence, the trip to the shop) etc. The shop owner screamed an incomprehensible name and out of nowhere, appeared a rickety man who claimed to be a mechanic. We were (very amiably) assured that the mechanic will come to our house and fix the pump at around 10 am. As I walked back, more than once, wares were thrust right under my nose at prices that appalled me (after Bangalore, things seem to be dirt cheap to me all over in North India). There were “tops” for 40 rupees, “fancy bangles” for 5 rupees each (and the glare from the sequins on those almost drove me blind), aaaaaaam for 16 rupees a kg (aaaaaaaam = mango, just in case)…………and so on and so forth.

To add to this confusion were the rickshaw pullers and auto-drivers who were so confident that you’ll avail their services that they claimed that we’d “always” gone home in their autos and rickshaws!!!!! Well, as for me, I’ve never come home by an auto from that part of the city (considering I’ve been to that part of the city only countable number of times, I’m not likely to forget)…….

And the clincher was the purse-seller. My mother wanted to buy a purse and I was a spectator to the bargaining. Just then, I received a call from a friend who doesn’t speak Hindi, so I spoke to her in English. After I hung up, the guy decided to talk to me (probably thinking that I’d make my mother buy that purse at the price he quoted). He said something I didn’t understand. So, I uttered a “I beg your pardon” and he repeated for my benefit…..”Madam, I saying 325 rupees, your Mummy saying 200”. So, I said, you talk to her only, I’ve no interest. So he said rather enthusiastically, “Madam, I offering myself for 280 rupees, your Mummy is not taking”!!!!! I couldn’t suppress a smile………….the great Indian market, you see!!!!

- Pritesh (written on July 26, 2008)

Young and tender, in need of care
I look at your loving smile
You move your hands through my hair
So affectionately, free of guile

You kiss my forehead
And hold me in your hands
You hold me close, and whisper
These words, no one understands

I grow under your loving eyes,
To a big boy, tough as a rock.
I work hard, to make a life
Until I can no longer hold back my stock

I spend myself, throw all I have
At life, the hungry cavern.
All shriveled and wrinkled, back I come
To your arms, it feels like heaven!

With that kiss on my forehead
And with that gentle touch,
In time, you steel me again, prepared
To start a new life, from scratch

- Ananth and Pritesh (in the absence of an active blog from Ananth, I’m posting it on mine)