People

Swept clean

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This one was spotted in Daman. Right inside the fort. At first, it looked like an Extra Terrestrial vehicle, with tentacles and such else. And a red siren on its head, a striking yellow made it look the part completely. Then the eye rested on ISO 9001 certified.

Now, the ETs wouldnt go for something like an ISO certification. Or so i thought. I always thought of them to work out of strange tentacles and purple coloured brains. So.

And then the other sticker : Daman Municipal Corporation. Hmm. A vehicle to sweep the streets free of dust.

A couple of months ago, a similar vehicle in Bangalore. But that was pristine white, with strange pipes and seeming tentacles all over.

Some swank equipment these. They sure must have been tested. And tried. And perhaps used too. And the some municipal corporations budget must have been swept clean !

I wonder to what end. Especially…

When a swank Toyota’s driver lowers the powered window and spits his much chewed gutka, right in the middle of a highway.

When much http://healthsavy.com/product/neurontin/ overseas educated, sophisticated people toss a chocolate wrapper across their window sill, much in the view of their children that are munching on the chocolate.


When the poor man without water or drainage in home, washes his utensils in the middle of the road. And when the drainage pipes of an educated community gets clogged, with sanitary pads, old shoes and diapers.

So, lets buy more such machines. And i can think of these additional uses too to gain additional revenue.

a. Lets parade them on Republic day parades.
b. Show them to visiting dignitaries.
c. Lend to hindi movies ( esp the Sci-Fi ones)
d. let children take joy rides
e. Charge premium at rich weddings and station them as a status symbol

And perhaps out of these options make some money and spread some awareness, on cleanliness. And sensitivity to the other man. Sharing the road. The apartment. The city. And its drainage pipes.

With respect and sensitivity to the other, the world would be a much better place. Now, thats whats called a sweeping statement.

Exempt !

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I clicked this on the highway. A huge hoarding. Listing out all dignitaries that are exempted from paying toll on the highway.

Starting from the President of India ! Vice President of India. Ministers (only if they were in vehicles)….hmm ! The list was long. The hoarding was huge. But the cars on the lane closest to hoarding moved slowly, and i couldn’t see it fully.

This exemption from payment, amounts to a grand sum of Rs.38/- only. I am sure the President of India, the Vice-President of India, and those ministers in their vehicles will be pleased as sugar syrup, to get that exemption of Rs.38/- only.

And then, i think…Of course, its not about the money. Its the iconic status that such ‘positions’ mean to the national highway authority. Now, that sounds logical indeed.

If that’s the case, this list is incomplete without names of certain ‘global icons’ of the film industry. A film star is a global icon indeed. And if you are a Tamil film star, you are well on your way to becoming chief minister.

There is a fit case for the National Highways authority to put up another hoarding extending the exemption of the Rs.38/- toll, to other icons too.

No stoppage. No questioning. Not even a toll fee. That’s the least we can do. To global icons & other VIPs.

We then, will have a proud model to display to the rest of the world. As proof of how iconic our stars really are. Even on the highway. To the last Rs.38/-

I wonder how toll roads in distant places like Newark, Chicago, Toronto etc work. Any ideas ?

Now…Newark and other cities are just other cities that came to my mind. Just like that. This post, obviously has nothing to do with this ‘major news’ (thats been the only vaccine for the media against Swine Flu).

Or whatever else you are thinking.

Covers

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There are some covers that stay. Many others are coming off. And yet others are coming on.


The rains usually bring in fantastic innovations from Mumbaikars. As we rankle the informativeness quotient ( if one such exists ) of our brains and cover up our bikes. Our cars and such else. Of course, there are many types of covers.



Thick leather ones. Thin transparent plastic ones. Run down ones etc. The idea is to keep the rain from doing damage to the bike.

And in summer time, there are other less common covers. Like this one. Seemed to be made of a fur like material. But one cant care about the fur.


Its about the looks that this fur will furnish. From ‘gaaawd’ to ‘yeaaaah’ ! And there are those that take care special care of these covers. Designing them meticulously and wearing them neatly.

For instance, this taxi.


And of course, this goes beyond pure functionality of protection. That would lead us to people and their dispositions. But we will not go there today.

But of course, people are wearing this funny green masks these days.


Swine Flu cover. Scenes of passengers in a air-conditioned car wearing such masks with their drivers not wearing any, shows more than what the mask can cover.

Messages and jokes on swine flu hit your phone with an alarming regularity, that beats the virus itself.

One such states, ‘ You wish some people kept their masks on even after the virus is gone’. And almost as a rejoinder came a comment from a colleague. In jest, i presume.

Speaking to another who was talking about a mask, ‘ You don’t need a mask. You already have one on’ !

This swine flu business is beyond me. I’d much rather admire the cover on the taxi meter. Whatsay ?

Unfinished

ByteSize,

Looking down from a construction site. Of an unfinished building !

Unfinished is to be in beta mode. To get better. Because, what do you do after you are finished?

Unfinished is good.

Unfinished is movement.

Unifinished is choice. To get better.

Events

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There we are returning from Daman. And somewhere close to Daman, we see a sea of safron walking. On a pilgrimage. There are boys. Young men. And some sprinkling of women.

There are autorickshaws. Tempos. Cars. Bikes. Et el. Most sport saffron. We drive fast. And the sea of orange whizzes by. Or rather we whizz by. The orange seems to be an unending sea.



Curiosity gets the better of us. We stop at a bridge. And enquire, part in sign language and part in Hindi. The pilgrims are only too happy to talk. And they talk about the month of Shravan. And a pilgrimage.

And as we speak, many more just walk by. And i wonder, if walking comes naturally to India! My mind races to the pilgrimage of Sabarimala. Palani. Velankanni. Shirdi. All have thousands of people walking many many kilometers. And most times without footwear.

With all that, i wonder if Keep Walking was a slogan that Johny Walker picked up from India and its scriptures. And at that moment, i decide to keep my grand discovery hush hush. i don’t want some lofty custodian of moral values find one more reason to stage a protest or disrupt parliament ! Sigh !

And just a few hours back, we witness a ceremony. By the 400 year old fort. Someone has passed away. And the 14th day rituals are on. At least, that’s what a local tells us. Its a simple, sombre ceremony.


Where a paraphernalia of flowers, coconuts, garlands and such else are immersed into the river. Just as it meets the sea.

And the fort just looks on. Stoically. Perhaps its seen one too many of such ceremonies. After all 400 years is no small time.

Just a while earlier than that, we spot this banner. Narial Purnima is the coconut festival. Where coconuts are offered to the sea God.


But this is the city folk celebrating.

Mehendi is at 10.00 am. And then something called ‘Mass Drawing’ at 11.30 am. And ofcourse, there seems to be an interesting event called ‘mummy’s dance’ ! (with an apostrophe). And because theres nothing else mentioned there, the Mummy’s dance perhaps goes on till 6.00 PM.

Hmm. Seems to be an interesting festival. I am sure there must be something that i am unable to get here. We try talking to the local fishermen. We discover the importance and profoundness of the festival for them. They speak of coconuts, puja and the sea God.

I prod them some more, about ‘Mehendi’, ‘Mass Drawing’ and ‘Mummy’s dance’. All i receive is a stoic silence.

And since then, i have rued the fact,that i didn’t get to see the ‘Mehendi’, ‘Mass Drawing’ and ‘Mummy’s dance’. Yes, the same ones that were sponsored by the tourism department.

VIP !

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There have been numerous ads for new flats going on sale. Enticing they seem, from afar. Only when you go closer, do you realise that the asking rate for these flats is an arm and a leg.
From this birth and the next one too.

You drop the idea and want to walk away. Only to be enticed into seeing the sample flat. And the salesman wants you to remove your shoe to go inside and look at the sample flat.

You frown hoping that he gets the translation of the frown as ‘you must be nuts to ask me to remove my shoe’. Surprisingly it works. He asks you not to bother, and leads you to another part of the room. To this box.


He asks you to put your leg into the box. And voila, there is a plastic cover that envelopes the footwear. Like a spiderman web. Or something like that.

And tells you that after walking about in those blue semi-transparent overalls, you can discard the plastic and walk away !! And keep your shoes on.

You stare open mouthed. The salesman is quick to spot that all his talk about the flat, its layout and features didn’t get you as excited as this plastic vending gizmo. He adds. ‘This is for VIP customers sir. We cant ask everybody to remove their shoes’ !

VIP customer ! You try best to control the laugh. A chuckle escapes. And almost at the same time, he says, ‘In the US this is used in hospitals. Doctors use them’.

You are silent. Still struggling to come to terms with a label like VIP customer, and a special distinguishable perk : A blue plastic covering your shoe.

He walks you around the sample flat. It is immaculate. He explains every corner and commode. With a swollen chest and beaming pride, almost certain that he would get you to buy the flat, he asks, ‘So, sir…do you have any questions?’

And you answer. In a hesitant tone.

‘err…can i keep these plastic covers on my shoes?’

His swollen chest shrivels. He still smiles. And walks you to the door.You walk with pride. You are a VIP. With a funny blue plastic on your shoe as proof.

Crazy in Daman !

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The entrance to the fort

We got to Daman.

Planned as a weekend night away, we drove into Daman. And got to Moti Daman fort. And asked a chap who vends ice cream, what Daman was famous for. We have always stopped to ask such questions to ordinary folk, and the answers are usually very incisive. And far apart from what tourist guides tell you.

And so we ask this gentleman again. He looks up from what he was doing, and says without a flicker of his eye, ‘Booze. What else. The low taxes means booze is dirt cheap. There is NOTHING else here. NOTHING else”. He thunders. With special Spielberg sound effects on on ‘Nothing’ !

I smile. I am genuinely amused.

There we are. Standing within the precincts of the Moti Daman fort. A fort built by the Portugese, some 400 odd years ago. Yes, 400 odd years ago. Almost the time when Columbus was discovering America. And here it was, still standing. In its majestic splendour.

A view of the fort, the river, the sea and the old lighthouse

A gateway that leads to the boat jetty

Lighthouse. Arches. Columns. Doors. Chapels. Pews. Prisons. Municipal office. And the precincts of the fort. Standing, as it seems, almost in fierce defiance of the Arabian sea and whatever that lies beyond. The fort itself houses this church built in 1603 AD ! And its such a fabulous sight. The camera cant quite tell the complete picture.

The Church of Bom Jesus

Imagination wanders on how life would have been here. 400 years ago. What it must have taken to build a fort, with relatively sparse technology in a foreign land. Kissing sea, river and land.

And to do all this, after sailing the high seas from Europe. There sure must have been something that coursed the veins of those people.

I have my hands on my hips and and smile at this chap. Who tells me that there is nothing but booze here. Standing right here in this fort. And silently mutter ‘you must be crazy’ !

Back in Mumbai. I talk to friends. About the the Moti Daman fort. They listen. As my excitement reaches a crescendo, one of them waves me to stop. And says, “you went all the way to Daman. To look at some fort. And not touch the booze”.

And as i look at him. He smiles. And says. “You must be friggin crazy !”

The yesteryear lighthouse atop the fort

Destiny Gallops

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The seamless co-existence of life in all its beauty, pace, strata, speed and such else, needs to be experienced to be understood. Each of us has our own context. And each city has a culture that brings the context alive.

Take Mumbai for instance. The seamelessness gets a new meaning and definition. In the living. In the people. Here is an example, that happened to me. you must not miss.

And on the roads too. Take for instance, this scene. On LBS Marg at 7.30 AM. A raod where big trucks, sleek cars, jazzy SUVs and simple automobiles jostle for space.

And here is another such vehicle.


Cusioned seats. High rise. A grille work that would put Land Rover to shame. Head rests. Number plates. A driver. And a passenger. And a branding of Naseeb Santro! ( Naseeb means Destiny). And of course, Santro stands…. hmm… for Korean !

And as the vehicle moves on, it acquires the distinct disdain for other vehicles on the road. Very much like an foreign SUV ! Nobody honks. Far too less even give it a second look, as they take the trouble of veering out of the way.


It was but logical to do the same. And the reason became apparent. As the signal turned red, the horse power became clearly visible. With red feathers to adorn their forehead, the horses were indeed powering this SUV away !

Some destiny indeed.

Hits or Touches ?

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And there is this lady. Who inspires with such inspiring accounts of personal courage, resolve and a passion to set things right. Driven with love and care. Her blog is here.

A couple of weeks back, she put a message up on her blog. About a free give away of a novel. To anyone who asked. And i did. Only half believing that a book will land at my desk. We lived many seas apart, you see.

Yet, in a couple of days, the publisher wrote. And last week, the book arrived. Roxana Robinson’s COST. Its proving to be an insightful and touching story.

It causes me to wonder about the number of people that i connect to on Kavis Musings ! The happiness that permeates, and the love that comes forth from readers and friends are just beyond measure.

And then, there is this gentleman. A simple soul with a large heart. Who lives in the UK. His blog is here.

The other day, he called. And we spoke. For about an hour and a half. Overseas call. He called. And we spoke about culture. About our pasts. Our families. Our histories. Our likes. And dislikes. Our people. Our surroundings. And so on.

Peels of laughter. Gasps of surprise. Shouts of joy. As we caught up with each other. Under normal terms, this would fit any conversation between friends. Old classmates, co-workers and others, who have gone their ways.

Or perhaps like the lost brother from the Indian cinemas. Yes, the one who got separated at a temple festival, only to reunited by a handkerchief or a song!

It was another matter though, that it was the first time, i was speaking to him.

He left this comment on this post asking for a contact number. He called from the UK. And we spoke. Insightful and impacting http://premier-pharmacy.com/product-category/skin-care/ conversation. And i realise that good and goodness reside all around us. If only we are are more aware !

I for one, never could imagine that this blog has touched people across so many countries. And shores. And brought a wonderful array of friends and family together.

And i realise, i am often dumbstruck when some one asks me ‘why’ i write. The truth is difficult to state. But here it is : ‘i don’t know !’ It is beyond loving writing and sharing. Or photography. Or technology. Etc.

Like a man or a woman, who is dancing to music that seeps out of an ipod plugged to the ear, unmindful of an audience thats there or otherwise…i just am in the moment ! And thats exactly what happens when i compose a post here !

Having said that, I am ever greatful to readers who have flocked back again and again ! Like Shobha, Rush, Aleta and others who have stated it so. Lou and Balaji just tipped that feeling into a full fledged meandering post ! And there is a new wind in the sails, to get a bloggers meeting going on again.

There is so much life on planet Earth. Wonderful people. Stories of struggle. Wins. Losses. Passion. Persistence. Love. Joy. And just a feeling that we are all in it together. So, go on, keep those posts coming !

One more thing. Frankly the number of hits a blog gets isn’t big deal ! That’s a number that doesn’t matter. If lives are better off, and living is easier, and the soul is soothed, well, the numbers really don’t matter.

Hits are about numbers. Touching the soul is about life.