Moonlight Carnival

If you can see only vileness in humanity, take a long cycle ride in the hinterlands, in rural India; experience its idyllic setting where beauty thrives. This is not the beauty of glitz and glamour; this is real beauty juxtaposed with squalor and has no trace of superficiality about it. 

Riders getting ready

The ride was special and named aptly – Moonlight carnival. We started the ride at 2.30 AM from Kollegal. The bus ride to Kollegal (situated 145 kms from Bangalore) took us a little more than 3 hours. In the moonlight, aided by conventional and miner’s torches, we set about getting the bikes ready for the ride. Having been part of 4 rides organized by CAM (Cycling and more) the team was extremely helpful and Manohar, our organizer for this particular ride can be easily named Mr. Cool. 

If I can play a trick on William Wordsworth’s famous lines – 

Bliss was it in that dawn to be alive,

But to be young was very heaven!

And make it read, 

Bliss was it in that dawn to be alive,

But to be cycling was very heaven!

I’d certainly not be lying! 

The pleasant breeze and the silence of the night were a perfect invitation. Unlike rides that start during the day, where most riders like to speed off in the beginning, in this case, hardly anyone bothered with speed. We were more than happy to engage in the cyclist version of saunter. Our destination was the Forest rest house at the foot of the BR hills in Bylore, 45 kms away. 

I started the ride alongside Nandini and listened to her experiences in NCBS (National Centre for Biological Sciences) as a research associate. It was a different world for me – biological research, fruit flies, state aids for research etc. Soon, Sandeep, Harsha and Rohan joined and briefly we were a group. In the darkness, except for the occasional stray dog, our own conversations and the rattle of the wheels against the road were the only sounds to break the silence. Sometimes a torch from an early riser would sweep to scan us…

The colors of sunrise

It is not that we have not been on night rides in the countryside. The difference here was the physical effort we exerted and the absence of the ugly engine noise. Indeed, cycles come closest to being nature friendly modes of transportation! At dawn break, I caught up with Neeraj, Kaavya and Megha just ahead of a dusty and stone-laden track of road. The sun was up before we realized – so sudden it was that the whole thing struck me as an anticlimax. The few minutes before sunrise were the best part as the last vestiges of darkness were swept off gently and the sky was bathed in soft glows of orange and blue. 

At Odeyara Palya, we alighted to have tea. When we resumed, the villages on either side of the road sprang to life. We confronted idling men, busy women and pleasantly surprised children. The sunlight revealed swathes of green and reddish-brown vegetation. At 7.30 AM, we reached our destination for the morning. 

Bylore Forest Rest House

Breakfast was simple and hot. While some riders took turns to freshen up, some others went to sleep. I took a quick 2 hour nap in a tent. Even as the sun steadily traversed an arc from the east, the heat was not unbearable. A game of cards was in progress and briefly I sat next to the group. By lunch time, almost everyone had taken bath. Lunch was hot sambar rice with cabbage, pickle and curd. After lunch, we lay down on mats in the shade…to do nothing, think nothing and look forward to nothing is a pleasure in itself.

The Monastery

At 4 PM, we started the ride towards Dzogchen monastery, off Odeyara Palya. The approach road was just about motor able and can do with some restoration! The Dhondenling Tibetan Settlement is a world in itself. Young women on bikes, kids beaming with the classic Tibetan smile, genial looks on old men and women – the picturesque settlement had all the traces of one that is coming out a time warp. Young monks in the monastery played with gay abandon and cherubic innocence is how I can describe their smiles. One wished the monastery was open though! 

Riding back alone to the forest house, I met a curious girl who thought I am a foreigner. She demanded amusingly what my business was. When I said, we have no business apart from cycling, her pleasantly surprised expression had me in splits of laughter. The confidence with which she spoke in English and later switched to chaste Hindi was ironical since we were in rural Karnataka. I wonder whether this is because of feature rich mobile phones or satellite television!!

I spent the hours before dinner gazing at the stars and the moon through the dense foliage of a large tree. I recommend this as an exercise to come to terms with the insignificance of our lives – so negligible and pale as part of the cosmos, we often overestimate our own relevance and indulge in comical pursuits. After all, a grain in a haystack! Paradoxically, this realization bestows the power to love our fellow human beings. This love makes us powerful and strong, not weak and spineless because there is just awareness here; not attachment.  

Day 2  Morning

Day 2 – we rose early to have coffee and a light breakfast. The sun had just risen when we started the ride. There was no human habitation on either side of the road – it was just endless stretch of mountains interspersed with sparse greenery as far as the eye could see. 

We were a small group of 5 until Garemalam, border town between Tamilnadu and Karnataka. The undulating roads were smooth and easy to ride on. I felt an intense urge to freeze the moment. Mankind should invent something that makes this possible – to wrap all the enablers of a particular moment (such as this), add some preservative and bottle them up together in a container. Whenever one wants, one should just uncork the bottle and be able to relive the memory in all its vividness again! 

Bike salute

The ride from Garemalam till Arepalayam was mostly a descent. At a particular bend in the road, we stopped for rest. It was time for bike salute and we took umpteen numbers of snaps here. After Arepalayam, we took a sharp right to take the road to Hasanur. Being a national highway, there were lot of KSRTC and TNSTC buses plying on this one. At Punajanur gate, Megha’s cycle got punctured and the guys led by Mr. Fixit alias Venkatesh sweated it out before we resumed. It proved to be a welcome break. 

We reached the endpoint for the ride shortly before noon. Our Mr. Cool was swamped with all kinds of gadgetry when he offered to click group pictures! During the initial few hours of the short return journey, most of us took a short nap. Around 5 PM after a stop for coconut water, we started dumb charades. With some quirky names and equally quirky acts, we couldn’t have laughed more. Pavan’s act for Melina would easily take the icing here! 

At 6.15 PM, I alighted at Jayanagar – with a single step, I was back in the harsh world of reality.

Bombay Talkies - A successful experiment

Presented by The Orchid Room Experiment, the first thing that struck me about the play is its name, 'Bombay Talkies'; it is not 'Mumbai Talkies'. In renaming Madras, Calcutta and Bombay, we have lost so much that is intangible! Chennai surely doesn't evoke the same degree of emotion as Madras does...

In this era where we get glued to reality television to get our daily dose of reality, (as if it is in short supply in our lives) we seldom have the courage to look at ourselves in the mirror. We are scared of the face the mirror conjures, for it is at odds with the one we put on for the world. As long as this dichotomy exists, monologues will be appreciated. A monologue is akin to a person thinking out loud, confronting himself in the mirror and laying open his soul. Bombay Talkies is eight monologues – “Uncensored moments of eight mumbaikars” - stitched together in a little more than 90 minutes.

Baby Dimple –

Played by Rasika, this is about a glorious past fading into an ordinary present and what looks like a bleak future. The once famous child actress, unable to come to terms with the changing ethos that conflicts with her self-professed values, begins to shed them as the lights dim.

Ideas –

In this monologue, the character played by Ishitta - A fountain of ideas - is caught between her own independence and the approval of her husband. As she talks of her painting – a maze of high rises and cable lines - she also reveals how the city is so dense and intricate…Beautifully imagined, this monologue is a simple and lovable sketch and my personal favorite.

Seven tiles –

Of lost childhoods and the agonies of growing up in an atmosphere of pseudo-conservatism, this is very powerfully enacted by Viraf. Where Kamasutra and Khajuraho are taboo, child sexual abuse is rampant. Beginning with humor, this one morphs slowly into an agonizing account of tarnished innocence.

No Tension –

Darshan is the typical agent and plays the character with such conviction that one begins to wonder if he has been an agent in his real life too. Loud, humorous, vulnerable, humane, vile and crude, he has the audience eating out of his hands.

Wonderland –

A cynical news reporter begins to introspect in this story. She slowly sees all around her, the genuine goodness of the human spirit as her travels in and around the city brings her into contact with people of different classes. The people she encounters defy all conventional conjectures…

Shobhit Patel –

This one takes the cake after Ideas. Namit is adorable as the classic Patel waiting for his American visa in a long queue. The moment forces him to examine his past with all its flaws. His friend’s – Manoj Bacardi – exploits with girls, the dandiya nights and his extended family’s yearning for all things back home, this is my second favorite.

Relationship Status –

The number of single mothers in urban India is on the rise. Financially independent, intelligent, assertive, the lives of these women is scrutinized harshly by a hypocritical society. The grind of daily lives without an emotional shoulder to rest on – Anahita does complete justice to this story.

The uprising –

I must confess that I could not understand the sense of gravity that Zafar in this last monologue seemed to evoke. The chorus chanting was also lost on me. Perhaps, a small explanation after the performance might have helped…

Kudos to the entire cast and Vikram Kapadia for a theatre experience that made us think, laugh and also question entrenched stereotypes. It is a beautiful sketch…go, catch it if you have a chance!

Srilanka Diary - Part 1

As the Srilankan airlines flight from Bangalore took off, I could imagine my soul detaching itself from the confines imposed by the body and rising high above; it was unsure for a while, albeit, a few moments perhaps, then, with increasing conviction, it transfigured itself into a light feather and took flight through the windows of the airbus. I sat composed, unperturbed by this fanciful imagination. My eyelids drooped and I drifted into a state of semi sleep; followed the feather in its adventurous flight. It kissed the clouds, flitted in and out of the window. A few times, I even shuddered at how careless it was...the overwhelming feeling was something akin to relief after putting down a heavy baggage. 

On arrival, just outside the Colombo airport

At the Bandaranayake international airport, the procedure to get the basic 30 day tourist visa was hassle-free. To be spotted by a beaming Aditi made for a sweet welcome to the island. After completing the formalities, we (myself, Aditi, Arpit and Harish) headed towards the taxi. The driver turned out to be a cricket fan whose favorite player was Lasith Malinga. The brief drive to Blue Horizon guest house at Negombo perhaps helped smoothen our excited nerves. We could immediately sense the clean, well paved, pothole-free smooth road and the clear signboards lining the road, every kilometer or so.

 The guest house was basic and neat. We chatted without any direction for some time. It reminded me of college days, when agendas did not drive discussions... It must have been well past midnight when we stepped out in the dark to see if we can get something to eat. We returned when the silence became eerie.

Breakfast at the blue lagoon guest house, Negombo

Surabhi arrived early in the morning, and as a small group, we were all set to explore what the pearl of the Indian Ocean had to offer.  Breakfast was tasty, elaborate and had an English flavor to it. Mr. Dinuk, our travel agent met and wished us. We set out in the spacious Toyota Hiace with Ajanthaji (Arpit first used the north Indian suffix ‘ji’ to refer to our guide Mr. Ajantha) toward Kandy. The road was lined on either side with lush greenery and the weather, just about pleasant for the drive. We had just started to gather speed and already I wanted a rewind to last night at Colombo airport; isn't time a cruel destroyer of fantasy? 

At Pinnawala elephant orphanage, Kegalle

We reached Pinnawala elephant orphanage at Kegalle, on a slight detour from the Colombo- Kandy road.  The elephant is an animal that defies contemporary definitions of beauty with its girth and trunk. Yet, when a herd sauntered down towards us, it was a majestic view to behold. While most of them were let free to roam, a few big ones were tethered. 

Lunch on the way to Kandy

Our guide at the spice garden plucked a few twigs every now and then and crushed the leaves for us to smell. The aroma  that sprang forth was overpowering if not intoxicating on the senses. It removed the last vestiges of sleep from our systems. Arpit got some very special hair removal treatment on his leg.

For lunch, we stopped at a picturesque location overlooking the road leading to Kandy and just beyond it, on a rising terrain, was the railway line. Our happiness at 1 USD fetching nearly 125 SL rupees soon disappeared looking at the menu card. Though expensive, the food tasted very good, especially the fish curry with rice that we had ordered.

Lucknow Boy A Memoir - Honest and witty, highly recommended!

I should confess at the outset that I was not exactly a fan of Vinod Mehta, the maverick editor of Outlook, when I picked up his memoir, Lucknow Boy. I have (and I presume most people would also) always been eager to know what makes a maverick a maverick. Outlook is a magazine that defies slotting - it surprises, shocks, is at times tedious, titillates, provokes...to cut it short, it is respected. So, when Arnab Goswami called Vinod to his studios and interviewed him just before the book launch, I decided, it should not be long before I get my hands on it.

Editors drawn from the world of print media are often enigmatic, especially those that grace the world of television studios only occasionally to steadfastly criticize conventional perspectives. Two people who readily come to mind here are Vinod Mehta and N Ram. Shekhar Gupta and Chandan Mitra are boring because of over-exposure. 

Lucknow Boy is full of Vinod Mehta, naturally, for a memoir written by Vinod himself, it should not come across as surprising. It is full of Vinod, because, it reeks of a certain self-righteousness. Perhaps, those who wield the pen for a profession are singularly guilty of this trait! That apart, the book is a captivating treatise on the evolution of the Indian print media from the early 70s. Vinod captures the power struggle prevalent in the industry and exposes a truckload of uncomfortable truths about some media Moguls and politicians! 2G scam, emergency, Gujarat riots, match fixing, media-politician-business nexus and much more make it enthralling. 

The insider view of a person who waded through all the politics and churning of the last three and a half decades -  owing in large measure to the credentials he built for himself and thanks to the sincerity with which he approached his profession  - is bound to illuminate the lives of his contemporaries.

Some excerpts -

On Meena Kumari, "I was told about one admirer she fornicated with casually who thought he had a good thing going. After a night of satisfactory love making, he knocked the next afternoon on the door of her make-up room, 'Kaun?' (who?), asked the lady. The admirer gave his name., She again asked,'Kaun?' The admirer again gave his name, this time providing more details, reminding the actress of their union the previous night. 'Raat gayi, baat gayi' (The night has gone, so has the matter), she answered nonchalantly."

On Sanjay Gandhi, "The portrait which finally emerged was unflattering. Sanjay was a scary simpleton whose preferred reading matter was Archie comics. He manipulated his mother, sowing in her a guilt complex about him coping alone with the after-effects of a broken home. The country should be grateful Sanjay's capacity for inflicting havoc was abruptly curtailed."

On AB Vajpayee, "Since I was a self-confessed pseudo-secularist and vocal about it, most BJP politicians kept me at arms length. Not Atalji. Perhaps he was a pseudo-secularist himself too! I used to go over for tea, with appointments easily fixed through his personable press officer, Ashok Tandon. Once when I went to see him he looked uncharacteristically glum. I asked him if anything was wrong. 'App ke baad Jayalalithaa aayengi.' (After you Jayalalithaa is coming.) And then he laughed for the first time."

The penultimate chapter in which Vinod shares, "a kind of sweeper's wisdom gathered along a forty-year journey" is the best part of the book. 

Some nuggets - 

"The neutrality of journalists is a pompous myth. I have never met a reporter or an editor who did not have strong views."

"The task of the politician is to embellish, evade, spin, muddle, conceal the truth. The task of the journalist is as far as possible, to get to the truth....We are, thus, natural adversaries." 

A memoir is also an excellent means to settle scores, paper inconsistencies and express gratitude. Vinod does this with aplomb! 

He declares in his memoir, "There is no place for mavericks in the mainstream media" But the question to be asked is, "Who should judge whether Vinod is a maverick?" The Lucknow boy is highly recommended.

Reliving the GREAT old days...

To come back – as alumni - to one of the most beautiful academic campuses anywhere in the world, to sit in the classrooms and walk the hostel corridors that became so much a part of our lives’ fabric not so long back, to meet professors who redefined the direction of our careers, it was a feeling that gave me goose flesh. 

Spartans – the class of 2012 – played the perfect hosts to the alumni. The arrangements, from the reception desk to the allotment of accommodation, were impeccable. Crusaders, junior crusaders, pioneers, junior pioneers, patriots, champions, gladiators, there was representation from every class. 

In a one year program, a class loses out on a crucial aspect of academic life – the bonds that get formed between juniors and seniors on campus. But the bonhomie evident at the alumni meet - in a matter of no time at all, all the batches were interacting with each other and with the Spartans – made for a heart-warming sight.  

Professor Ashok Vasudevan’s session was thought provoking. “Industry trends descend from megatrends. The future seems to determine the present”, the professor said. He went on to dwell on the importance of having a fertile imagination, remarking, “Trend spotting involves imagination and flights of fancy”. He captivated the audience by his brilliance even as he unfurled a colourful future replete with stupendous changes in technology, agriculture and behaviour. 



Professor Venkat R Krishnan addressing the alumni

Uncle Bala spoke next, elaborating on his vision for Great Lakes. As young and passionate as ever, his wit stood out. Professor Sriram admired the quality of the class of 2012 and appealed to the alumni community to support the institution in its future. Professor Venkat Krishnan, in his charming style, singled out appropriate social comparison and concern for others as reasons for happiness in life. 

Lunch saw networking in full swing as it was time for all the alumni to relive shared memories. I remember feeling immensely happy sitting opposite the canteen chatting with Spartans. So many memories clouded my mind – distinct among them was sitting in the very same place a day before the market research assignment and struggling to figure out, how on earth, we were going to complete it! 

Post lunch, Manik and Sitash addressed the gathering at Lake Veeranam. Their journey together post PGPM and success with Jade Magnet would certainly inspire any wannabe entrepreneur. Vivek Joseph spoke next and his passionate address would have left no one in doubt – entrepreneurship can proceed in parallel with corporate life!  

The Spartans took to the stage – a video that took us down the memory lane was followed by a mimicry show by Abhilash. The music talent of the class came to the fore next with a truly incredible performance that left us hungry for more. 

A fruitful session of brainstorming with Uncle Bala, Professors Sriram and TN Swaminathan resulted in actionable points to strengthen the alumni network and leverage it for the institution and its future batches.

The evening was beautiful – at the beachside, with a full moon to behold, it was a perfect finale to the day. The few minutes spent in solitude, taking in the coolness of the gentle breeze, watching the unceasing waves lit by the moon, surrounded by murmuring voices, was blissful. Floating in and out of conversations, I could catch nuggets ranging from ROI to Bharat Matrimony! 

 



View from the hostels - At the break of dawn

During the drive back to the campus, seated next to George, I had the good fortune to listen to him talk about his school in Trivandrum for pre-school kids. The hostel corridors buzzing with activity made me wish, my great life had been a little longer! 

Wish the Spartans all the very best!

Snapshots of life...an year apart

Bangalore, Dec 2011 -

Deserted streets, cold winds, gloomy yellow lights, withered branches,
unsmiling couples, ugly machines, melancholic songs and a barren sky wait to devour.

Silent mornings, sleepy afternoons, uninspiring evenings and lonely nights don't help
inner turmoils, repressed emotions, hesitant steps and inchoate thoughts.

Mahabalipuram, Dec 2010 -

Bustling corridor, clean fresh air, cheerful white lights, ripe branches,
coy couples, pristine nature, nostalgic songs and a moonlit sky wait to embrace.

Pleasant mornings, busy afternoons, candor-filled evenings, garrulous nights inspire
creative flights, bold emotions, confident steps and well-rounded perspectives.

Our memories play strange games, games in which a sudden trigger unleashes a torrent of thoughts. Life over the past one month has been a roller coaster, a seesaw of emotions.

Touched, moved and inspired by her...

Listening to instrumental music on this cold winter evening, my thoughts went back to her...

Unpretentious, humble, innocent, guileless, simple, childlike, pure, pristine, angelic,  elegant, pretty, empathetic, straight forward, passionate and genuine, she lives life on her own terms and doesn't care two hoots about what the world thinks of her. Such unadulterated existence in a corrupted world -  in a world full of shallowness, one-upmanship, buffoonery, lies, petty fights, envy and ugliness - is a rarity. No, it is not because she does not know the ways of the world. She is fully aware, yet she retains enough of a childish spirit to welcome all that the world throws at her with both hands.

About people who are ordinary mortals, one can go on and on, for their lives are multicolored. To get to their true selves in a matter of a few sentences is well nigh impossible! With her though, it is easier. She is simply an extraordinary human being. Wish her all the best in her life and pray that she stays as she is...glad that our paths crossed!