“…But the name game involves only male names. Because, if it’s a girl, Laila has already named her.” Don’t curse me for giving away the very last sentence of “A Thousand Splendid Suns” but trust me; you won’t be able to gauge the significance of the phrase without reading the book.
There were a couple of reasons that made me pick up the book at Crosswords. Primarily, it was the hype created around it and my colleague went out of his way to recommend it (thanks Venkat!). And the second reason is of course, after Kite Runner I knew that I can rely on Khaled Hosseini when it comes to pulling through a sensitive issue.
Well, I was also a bit wary of the topic since there has been an overdose of Afghanistan in my reading list – parts of Shantaram, Kite Runner and then parts of Age of Kali. And it’s always so much pain, torture and bloodshed involved; I grew kind of immune to it by the end of this 4th read.
I am sure everyone has tried watching the movie remakes of books they loved and there are tons of them in the industry! Only thing is there are very few script writers who can live up to the essence of the books. City of Joy was a complete disaster, Kite Runner was half in Afghani, and Da Vinci Code was tangential.
The point is I DO NOT intend to watch when Shantaram is released and if A Thousand Splendid Suns is made into a motion picture. Blood has always been my weak link. I can see thrillers which are without hints of bloodshed, like Jackie Chan flicks and sci-fi action like Transformers.
To come back to the book I started talking about, it involves the lives of two women who were poles apart, and pulled and bound together with all-pervading ‘love’. The amazing intertwining of the ups and, more frequently, downs in the lives of the duo are beautifully carved by Hosseini. It does start off slow, with almost the 1st couple of hundred pages dedicated to building the foundation of the story, but the way it picks up pace after a point is so gripping that it can challenge a thriller-fiction writer.
There were a couple of issues which I feel were unanswered. One – Rasheed’s surprised look out of the window when he married Mariam and took her to Kabul and second – Tariq’s headaches towards the end. I won’t speak further, read for yourself.
The 400 odd pages also left me pondering on the chaotic lives of the Afghanis. Raids after more raids; the incessant plundering and invasions by Soviets and U.S., Mujahedins and of course the Talibans. The number of deaths, loss of property, destruction of the Bamiyan Buddhas; reading about them is so unnerving; I can’t even dare to imagine the reality which swept over the country in the last three decades.
And worst, the treatment meted out to the women – the beatings by husbands, the lack of hospitals, deprivation of education and right to hold office, and complete lack of freedom. Phew…!!!
The thoughts are getting a bit too depressing so I’ll move on. The wondrous part of the book was that the very last paragraph was a tear-jerker. Throughout the book, however much tremulous situations became, it’s really amazing Hosseini could actually reach the nadir in the very end. To hold on to the last straws of hope and dream of living a better life, without discarding one’s responsibilities – a very out-of-the-world feeling!
After these mind-rattling books, I am planning to move on to fiction now; a Stephen King is in queue. Hope to shrug off the disturbing thoughts about worldly sorrows for a while.
The French Riviera of the East - I
Have you guys ever tried to redefine your life, and all you could manage to come up with were synonyms? Off late I had been feeling exactly that way, and had to get out of the city for a few days. That's how the Pondicherry trip was conceived.
But as with all things, what Man proposes God disposes. We missed our bus on 26th of June, Friday evening due to some extremely displeasing turn of events. So on early Saturday morning we started out in a cab. Even though we left by 7am, it took us almost six and a half hours to reach Pondicherry! So whoever says going in your own vehicle would take at least 1 hour lesser than what the bus takes, do a double-check!
We got some traffic till Hosur, but once past that, driving conditions were good. The air was still cool and the road surface lovely. But once you reach Krishnagiri, don't go on the flyover, instead take the left from NH 7, and after about 500mt, take the right turn. You get up on the NH 66, and this goes straight to Pondicherry. This road isn't really worthy of being called a National Highway! It’s a double-lane, pockmarked road with no lane markers and KSRTC buses plying through the same stretch. Our earlier average speed of 70 km/ph tanked down to 40 km/ph. A word of caution – if you intend to eat on the way, I suggest you have some heavy breakfast at Krishnagiri and lunch in Pondi. NH 66 goes through the backwaters of civilisation. Look out for HP gas pumps to find a washroom in case of an emergency.
We finally reached Pondicherry around 2pm, and went straight to the Rishi Aurobindo ashram. Beyond the busy street, the entrance is just 10mt away. And when you are standing besides the great sage's resting place, the outside world just falls off from your consciousness, and your mind goes blank! The only thing I remember from that first visit is the pattern in which the brilliantly coloured flowers were arranged on the tomb. The next day when we visited the place again, I noticed that there was a new pattern in which the flowers were arranged.
We stayed at the Ashram for about 20mins on the first visit. We hadn’t booked a room, so searching for a hotel was very high up on the list. Luckily June-end happens to be off-season in Pondi. Unluckily the weather was mind-numbingly humid, hovering around 80%, and there was no tourist rush for the exact same reason. We managed to get lodging on our fourth attempt, at a hotel facing the sea. The service was pretty much up to the mark, except that you should go out for the big meals. The restaurants are good and decently priced, but the room delivery was a disaster.
After a couple of hours’ rest at the hotel, we set out on a quick trip around the beach road for the sunset. The evenings are pretty cool with a strong breeze that makes walking around quite a joy. We visited the old lighthouse first. Though no one is allowed to go in, we were pretty sure that the view from up there would have been amazing with dusk settling in. We also went to the main square with a live band playing both English and Kannada songs. You just laze around and take your pick as to which ones to lend an ear to! Right opposite the main square is a statute of the Mahatma, with eight beautifully sculptured pillars surrounding it. These are from the 12th century Chola dynasty, and off course they have been transported here and erected by the ASI (for the ignoramus, that’s Archaeological Survey of India).
On the beach road beside the statue of Mahatma, there's another very interesting place you should visit – an 80-year old coffee shop, La Cafe. The coffee can compete easily with Barista and CCD, and the ambience is mind-blowing! Just imagine sipping an Irish coffee with the sea breeze tussling your hair, listening to the breaking of the waves and looking at the dark water stretching to eternity!
We wound up our first day's stay at around 9pm and decided to get to the hotel and order dinner from room-service. That is the mistake I was talking about a while back. But well, you win some and lose some. We kept the room AC switched off and the balcony door open. Good night's sleep!
But as with all things, what Man proposes God disposes. We missed our bus on 26th of June, Friday evening due to some extremely displeasing turn of events. So on early Saturday morning we started out in a cab. Even though we left by 7am, it took us almost six and a half hours to reach Pondicherry! So whoever says going in your own vehicle would take at least 1 hour lesser than what the bus takes, do a double-check!
We got some traffic till Hosur, but once past that, driving conditions were good. The air was still cool and the road surface lovely. But once you reach Krishnagiri, don't go on the flyover, instead take the left from NH 7, and after about 500mt, take the right turn. You get up on the NH 66, and this goes straight to Pondicherry. This road isn't really worthy of being called a National Highway! It’s a double-lane, pockmarked road with no lane markers and KSRTC buses plying through the same stretch. Our earlier average speed of 70 km/ph tanked down to 40 km/ph. A word of caution – if you intend to eat on the way, I suggest you have some heavy breakfast at Krishnagiri and lunch in Pondi. NH 66 goes through the backwaters of civilisation. Look out for HP gas pumps to find a washroom in case of an emergency.
We finally reached Pondicherry around 2pm, and went straight to the Rishi Aurobindo ashram. Beyond the busy street, the entrance is just 10mt away. And when you are standing besides the great sage's resting place, the outside world just falls off from your consciousness, and your mind goes blank! The only thing I remember from that first visit is the pattern in which the brilliantly coloured flowers were arranged on the tomb. The next day when we visited the place again, I noticed that there was a new pattern in which the flowers were arranged.
We stayed at the Ashram for about 20mins on the first visit. We hadn’t booked a room, so searching for a hotel was very high up on the list. Luckily June-end happens to be off-season in Pondi. Unluckily the weather was mind-numbingly humid, hovering around 80%, and there was no tourist rush for the exact same reason. We managed to get lodging on our fourth attempt, at a hotel facing the sea. The service was pretty much up to the mark, except that you should go out for the big meals. The restaurants are good and decently priced, but the room delivery was a disaster.
After a couple of hours’ rest at the hotel, we set out on a quick trip around the beach road for the sunset. The evenings are pretty cool with a strong breeze that makes walking around quite a joy. We visited the old lighthouse first. Though no one is allowed to go in, we were pretty sure that the view from up there would have been amazing with dusk settling in. We also went to the main square with a live band playing both English and Kannada songs. You just laze around and take your pick as to which ones to lend an ear to! Right opposite the main square is a statute of the Mahatma, with eight beautifully sculptured pillars surrounding it. These are from the 12th century Chola dynasty, and off course they have been transported here and erected by the ASI (for the ignoramus, that’s Archaeological Survey of India).
On the beach road beside the statue of Mahatma, there's another very interesting place you should visit – an 80-year old coffee shop, La Cafe. The coffee can compete easily with Barista and CCD, and the ambience is mind-blowing! Just imagine sipping an Irish coffee with the sea breeze tussling your hair, listening to the breaking of the waves and looking at the dark water stretching to eternity!
We wound up our first day's stay at around 9pm and decided to get to the hotel and order dinner from room-service. That is the mistake I was talking about a while back. But well, you win some and lose some. We kept the room AC switched off and the balcony door open. Good night's sleep!
The French Riviera of the East - II
Now to continue with our journey in Pondicherry, we woke up without an intervening alarm at 5:30am. Nice cool breeze blowing and an almost cloudless sky turning an orangish purple. Haven't had better starts to the day! And just when the sun is about to come up, in trots a troop of about 20 people, standing right at the edge of the beach road, babbling and clicking pictures. Thanks people for the reminder that I am still in India! We had some 20 minutes of quiet before the circus, and a few marvelous shots of the sky gradually changing colour. So thankfully, it was not a complete disaster.
We had a quick breakfast and decided to visit Auroville before the sun made its ascent to the higher reaches. We started out about 8:30 in an auto-rickshaw. One small advice - bargain at will with the auto-wallahs and do not agree to anything above 200 bucks. Auroville is about 15kms away, and if you plan to go to the beach nearby, then the round trip would be anywhere between 35 and 40kms. So, another 30 odd bucks added in will be a good deal.
It took us a little over 40mins to get to Auroville. Once you enter the fenced area, after 50mts you will see the main information center on your left. This building also serves as a museum to the life and work of the Mother, and showcases the achievements of Aurovillites in the areas of sustainable and eco-friendly development. We also watched a 5mins video on Auroville and its extravagant architecture. The Mother started thinking about environmentally-sustainable development more than 30 years ago. The world could count the number of people with similar thoughts at that time!
There is a dome built in honour of the Mother that acts as the meditation center for Aurovillites. It is called the Matri-mandir and is a spectacular view, rising over 100mts from the ground in the shape of a sphere and is built about 200mts from a very old banyan tree (around 300 years old). By the time we reached back the information center it was already past 11, and the scorching heat of the previous day had returned to haunt us. So we dropped our plan to visit the beach, and headed back to Pondi for a cool lunch at the hotel's restaurant.
With the sun blazing away in full glory, we took a nap for about an hour and started out on foot at 3pm. First destination was the Pondicherry museum that houses a good coin collection dating back to almost 300AD, and a decent collection of sculptures, mostly from the Chalukya dynasty. Though Belur-Halebidu offers a greater variety of styles and concepts in sculpting from a similar period, the museum does not bore you. We went to the Ashram after this, and spent some perfectly quiet minutes besides the great Rishi. We also went through some of the publications by the Ashram, and though the themes are similar, the number of languages covered in those publications is quite amazing.
A brief walk to the old lighthouse on our way to La Cafe from the Ashram, and another ½ hour spent at coffee shop – heaven! The next hour went in a frenzy of shopping, and by the time we laid our guns (read wallets) down, it was already 6pm.
There's a jetty that is visible from the beach road, near to the Port Authority enclosure. Walk down the beach road and just as the road turns right, you will come across a gas station. There's a narrow road branching off from the beach road at this point that reaches the dock gates. There are no entry charges. Walk through the gate and to your north-north-west (at '10-o-clock') you will see another gate about 200mts away. That gate leads straight to the jetty. Families need to shell out about 50 bucks per person, but an all-guys group can always bargain with the policemen at the dock gates.
The sight from the tip of the jetty is mind-blowing. It ends around 150mts into the sea, so the breeze is pretty strong there, and by the time we went, all the lights had been lit up, so the whole coastline was a series sparkling dots! The new light house also started sending directional beams about every 45secs. We stayed for 30mins since it had become quite dark and returned to the hotel.
After a quick shower and a happy dinner later, we checked out of the hotel by 8:30pm. The return bus was at 10:30pm, and we reached the pick-up point around 9:30pm. Well, let’s just say things went as per schedule, the Indian Stretchable Time schedule! The bus finally arrived at 11pm and started off at 11:15pm. The return journey was not very pleasant or memorable. Not exactly the kind of journey one can expect to end a trip like this. We reached Bangalore about 7am, and to the beginning of another long, drawn-out week. Guess I need to pack up again soon, just can't see me sticking to that chair for long!
We had a quick breakfast and decided to visit Auroville before the sun made its ascent to the higher reaches. We started out about 8:30 in an auto-rickshaw. One small advice - bargain at will with the auto-wallahs and do not agree to anything above 200 bucks. Auroville is about 15kms away, and if you plan to go to the beach nearby, then the round trip would be anywhere between 35 and 40kms. So, another 30 odd bucks added in will be a good deal.
It took us a little over 40mins to get to Auroville. Once you enter the fenced area, after 50mts you will see the main information center on your left. This building also serves as a museum to the life and work of the Mother, and showcases the achievements of Aurovillites in the areas of sustainable and eco-friendly development. We also watched a 5mins video on Auroville and its extravagant architecture. The Mother started thinking about environmentally-sustainable development more than 30 years ago. The world could count the number of people with similar thoughts at that time!
There is a dome built in honour of the Mother that acts as the meditation center for Aurovillites. It is called the Matri-mandir and is a spectacular view, rising over 100mts from the ground in the shape of a sphere and is built about 200mts from a very old banyan tree (around 300 years old). By the time we reached back the information center it was already past 11, and the scorching heat of the previous day had returned to haunt us. So we dropped our plan to visit the beach, and headed back to Pondi for a cool lunch at the hotel's restaurant.
With the sun blazing away in full glory, we took a nap for about an hour and started out on foot at 3pm. First destination was the Pondicherry museum that houses a good coin collection dating back to almost 300AD, and a decent collection of sculptures, mostly from the Chalukya dynasty. Though Belur-Halebidu offers a greater variety of styles and concepts in sculpting from a similar period, the museum does not bore you. We went to the Ashram after this, and spent some perfectly quiet minutes besides the great Rishi. We also went through some of the publications by the Ashram, and though the themes are similar, the number of languages covered in those publications is quite amazing.
A brief walk to the old lighthouse on our way to La Cafe from the Ashram, and another ½ hour spent at coffee shop – heaven! The next hour went in a frenzy of shopping, and by the time we laid our guns (read wallets) down, it was already 6pm.
There's a jetty that is visible from the beach road, near to the Port Authority enclosure. Walk down the beach road and just as the road turns right, you will come across a gas station. There's a narrow road branching off from the beach road at this point that reaches the dock gates. There are no entry charges. Walk through the gate and to your north-north-west (at '10-o-clock') you will see another gate about 200mts away. That gate leads straight to the jetty. Families need to shell out about 50 bucks per person, but an all-guys group can always bargain with the policemen at the dock gates.
The sight from the tip of the jetty is mind-blowing. It ends around 150mts into the sea, so the breeze is pretty strong there, and by the time we went, all the lights had been lit up, so the whole coastline was a series sparkling dots! The new light house also started sending directional beams about every 45secs. We stayed for 30mins since it had become quite dark and returned to the hotel.
After a quick shower and a happy dinner later, we checked out of the hotel by 8:30pm. The return bus was at 10:30pm, and we reached the pick-up point around 9:30pm. Well, let’s just say things went as per schedule, the Indian Stretchable Time schedule! The bus finally arrived at 11pm and started off at 11:15pm. The return journey was not very pleasant or memorable. Not exactly the kind of journey one can expect to end a trip like this. We reached Bangalore about 7am, and to the beginning of another long, drawn-out week. Guess I need to pack up again soon, just can't see me sticking to that chair for long!
Clichéd Bread and Butter
Ahem, don’t bother about the subject. Am sure that all of you have been irritated the days a thought gets stuck on you and it’s very difficult to shrug it off. It can be anything – a song, a dialogue, a completed chore, or a pleasant (or sad – depending on your mood) memory – that will keep haunting you.
Today morning when I got up, very absurdly, my mind got ‘stuck’ on “Aapka yeh jawab……. sach hai”…! There, I see a bulb blink on in the mind of you avid television viewer. Even if you have kept your hands off Star, the news channels and newspapers haven’t allowed the show to go unnoticed. “Sach ka saamna”, another serial ‘inspired’ by “The Moment of Truth” in the west.
Now, I haven’t been thinking about the show per-say, but more from the point of view of the announcer who gets the privilege of stating if the answer was “sahi” or “galat”. That too with such melodramatic pauses; you need training for that tone, huh? I mean, give me a break, Star must be paying that guy for bonkers!
What about a boy and girl connection in every other advertisement that is made? Even if there is no story, just push a couple of models and voila, you have a promotion clip ready!
That got me thinking, does media and the glamour world have the maximum number of such clichéd jobs? What about the corporate world? Surely we don’t need THAT many managers to oversee actual work done, or their indispensable role to hold the innumerable meetings.
Value-addition, they say at these humongous retail outlets. Every corner has a boy/girl stepping up to help you, even if you don’t require it. They will be at your heels, sometimes with a look that you are as kleptomaniac as one can get! Very embarrassing guys, trust me.
No point musing further, everyone needs a job, anything for the bread and butter. And some people will always be lucky and get luckier as the money market gets crazier by the day. Party time people! Enjoy…!
Today morning when I got up, very absurdly, my mind got ‘stuck’ on “Aapka yeh jawab……. sach hai”…! There, I see a bulb blink on in the mind of you avid television viewer. Even if you have kept your hands off Star, the news channels and newspapers haven’t allowed the show to go unnoticed. “Sach ka saamna”, another serial ‘inspired’ by “The Moment of Truth” in the west.
Now, I haven’t been thinking about the show per-say, but more from the point of view of the announcer who gets the privilege of stating if the answer was “sahi” or “galat”. That too with such melodramatic pauses; you need training for that tone, huh? I mean, give me a break, Star must be paying that guy for bonkers!
What about a boy and girl connection in every other advertisement that is made? Even if there is no story, just push a couple of models and voila, you have a promotion clip ready!
That got me thinking, does media and the glamour world have the maximum number of such clichéd jobs? What about the corporate world? Surely we don’t need THAT many managers to oversee actual work done, or their indispensable role to hold the innumerable meetings.
Value-addition, they say at these humongous retail outlets. Every corner has a boy/girl stepping up to help you, even if you don’t require it. They will be at your heels, sometimes with a look that you are as kleptomaniac as one can get! Very embarrassing guys, trust me.
No point musing further, everyone needs a job, anything for the bread and butter. And some people will always be lucky and get luckier as the money market gets crazier by the day. Party time people! Enjoy…!
Cruel Hope
Positive thinking, optimism, fate, better future – is what we are living for, we are working towards or believing in. And the biggest word amongst them – HOPE – a hope for a better job, a better lifestyle, and of course for a lovelier relationship. So how does it feel when our “hope” plays tricks on us?
They say that hope keeps you alive, keeps your will to carry on against societal odds. It gives you the sudden bouts of euphoria in your gut, in anticipation of the wonderful dream you want to live in.
And hope results in praying. An endless praying to pacify the hope that kindles in your heart. Think about the innumerable incidences, occurring at this exact moment while you are reading this piece of article. A woman praying that the swell in her belly results in a boy, so that she doesn’t have to face the wrath of her in-laws. A boy striving hard with his science to scrape through his exams, parental pressure can’t get worse. A girl hopes against hope to sustain her love-life. A poor beggar-child hopes someone gives him a yummy pastry that is displayed in the windows of Sweet Chariot. An old government employee prays that, next day being Monday, his pension is going to be cleared.
All these glorious words are so intertwined – expectation, adjustment, respect, compromise, relationships, and love for that matter. It gets so messed up in your head, sometimes you tend to loose your identity, miss out on the balancing act of life.
There is also the paranoia of the cycle of ups and downs. One day you are happy but deep down you know something dramatic is in store for you. Somehow, hope plays a better role in the opposite case, morose times might lead to a delightful surprise, you never know!
The only respite is hoping that everything is going to be resolved. That the woman will have a baby boy or someone will take pity and treat the beggar-child with a pastry. And when it doesn’t – well, you still live on, taking one day at a time, hoping that the next day might lead you a bit further towards your dream. For people who give up, and finally are called cowards, take their own lives. They don’t have anyone left to rely or fall back on.
So isn’t hope cruel? To survive, you have to come down to the banal life of any other commoner on the road and continue the rat-race. Guess the “Great One” up there didn’t leave us an option, eh...!!!
They say that hope keeps you alive, keeps your will to carry on against societal odds. It gives you the sudden bouts of euphoria in your gut, in anticipation of the wonderful dream you want to live in.
And hope results in praying. An endless praying to pacify the hope that kindles in your heart. Think about the innumerable incidences, occurring at this exact moment while you are reading this piece of article. A woman praying that the swell in her belly results in a boy, so that she doesn’t have to face the wrath of her in-laws. A boy striving hard with his science to scrape through his exams, parental pressure can’t get worse. A girl hopes against hope to sustain her love-life. A poor beggar-child hopes someone gives him a yummy pastry that is displayed in the windows of Sweet Chariot. An old government employee prays that, next day being Monday, his pension is going to be cleared.
All these glorious words are so intertwined – expectation, adjustment, respect, compromise, relationships, and love for that matter. It gets so messed up in your head, sometimes you tend to loose your identity, miss out on the balancing act of life.
There is also the paranoia of the cycle of ups and downs. One day you are happy but deep down you know something dramatic is in store for you. Somehow, hope plays a better role in the opposite case, morose times might lead to a delightful surprise, you never know!
The only respite is hoping that everything is going to be resolved. That the woman will have a baby boy or someone will take pity and treat the beggar-child with a pastry. And when it doesn’t – well, you still live on, taking one day at a time, hoping that the next day might lead you a bit further towards your dream. For people who give up, and finally are called cowards, take their own lives. They don’t have anyone left to rely or fall back on.
So isn’t hope cruel? To survive, you have to come down to the banal life of any other commoner on the road and continue the rat-race. Guess the “Great One” up there didn’t leave us an option, eh...!!!
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