Sightings

Meaning Matters. Only !

Travel Tales, ,
Here are a few snaps that rested on the hard drive. And looking at them, and thinking of the various meanings that they can surface in an individual, brought quite a few ruminations.

My mind seems to meander towards the fact, that the essence of communications lies in fulfilling its purpose. All else, including form, grammar, spacing et al, are frills. (My own ‘de-formed’ writing needs some solace). Obviously, essence lies in meaning !!

Problems arise, when form interferes with meaning ! Because of the way in which the communication is delivered ! When meaning and the core essence reaches the recipient differently !That’s at worst !

At their best, however, communication manages to serve its purpose (of communicating intended meaning to the recipient) in a form that may not be correct, culturally, grammatically, contextually etc. Now that can get a laughter or at least a smile. Ok. At least a few chuckles.

It can also perhaps be greeted by the click of a camera ! So, here are the results of a few. clicks. Feel free to share some more that you have come across !


‘Beware’ is not the same as ‘being aware’. Yes i am aware of that. But, the meaning is conveyed here is straight forward ! At least it is to me. There is Dog inside the house. Period. That is suffice ! It has been a long held belief that in such cases ‘awareness’ is suffice. Liking you or otherwise is the dog’s choice. Not yours. So !

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This was in the office canteen, where each day’s menu is written out. This was the menu for an evening snack. All i could understand was the ‘Samosa’ part ! ‘Coktal‘ i didnt get. I thought of ‘Cocktail’, but this was the office & things don’t add up. Nevertheless, if you do know, please do write in with the recipe of a cocktail somasa pls.

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I found this at the Hiranandani Construction site at Powai. I thought of it as an important message to workers, urging them to eschew the helmet ! I loved the picture, and the write up that came along with it, about a carpenter whose life was saved because of the helmet. If it was targeted at the workers, i wonder why it was in English ?!?

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This snap got me intrigued enough to make me look up ‘Households’ ! I was relieved that my understanding still held ground. ‘Households’ are people. Quite obviously ‘people’ didn’t figure in any of the items on sale! The meaning reaches. And perhaps along with the meaning came a devious smile to my lips. Complimenting my devious mind !

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This was clicked in Madurai. I think it was at the office of the District Forest Officer ! For sometime i couldn’t figure ‘yahi hay rightchoice plantingatree’ meant ! Coming from the Forest Office, i thought it was about ‘hay’ ! And then I it connected to Pepsi’s famous ad ! OK, we could do with some more space between the letters. ( You can watch the Pepsi ad here, for nostalgia’s sake !)

I still wonder what this line can do to an average Madurai resident as he walks by !

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This was at the Ahmedabad airport. I couldn’t figure this for sometime. ‘Laptop comfort zone on backside’ !! After battling it for sometime, i walked to the rear of this hoarding, and found plug points for recharging your laptop. Ok. So that’s Laptop comfort zone. On the backside !

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Tirupati bus stand has an overdose of passengers. Perhaps there have been one too many a verbose complaint, that had elaborate & intimate inputs on the weather at Tirupati and such else ! So, the call to be precise. The ‘only’ is almost like an afterthought ! Almost like a threat that anything other than precise will not be read !!!

Reminds me of the Channel V ad, which went, ‘We are like this only !’ That became such an ‘essence’ for English the Indian way !

I had a tough time locating a few other classics that i had clicked sometime ago. Nevertheless, this post brought to me memories of those cities and the signs themselves evoked a chuckle !

What to do. I am like this only !

Images from Cochin

Travel Tales, ,
When you travel for work, but get to see some sights and insights as on-the-house, you cant but thank your stars. I have been doing that for some time now, and thanking my stars as well.

Here are some pictures from Cochin. I am tempted to add, ‘On popular Demand’. But i let it be. These of course are some better pictures !

We stayed very close to water ! A curious water way, which had big ships, small boats and weeds all kissing the surface air & setting the background for cameras like mine ! To add to this, was the setting sun and morning brightness that provided the scope to play with light.

Our travel guide informs us that ‘motor boats’ are banned. And then, hastens to add, that only one type of ‘motor boat’ is allowed. That which runs on ‘an engine that does not damage’the water beings, he says.

I nod my head. He perhaps senses my thoughts. And explains a little more. The camera goes click, click. There is always an exception to the rule.

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The Sun sets behind the coconut trees. And as he sets, and takes the light along with him, the resplendent glory of ‘what was there’ just a couple of hours before remains. So is the hope of the tomorrow where the same sun on a new day will emerge.

That is nature. And man being part of nature, cant be beyond this ! The days of the past are glorious. So are the days ahead. Possibilities abound. There is light beyond the coconut bearing trees.

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Its evening. We ‘business tourists’ settle down with refreshments in hands, two Kathakali artist perform. They perform a story of amorous passion and righteousness. I watch in awe, as the twitch of eyebrows, lips and elaborate movements of the hand, convey so much meaning.

Post the show, i walk upto them, and say, that it was nice and i liked it.

These are weary men, who look up, say ‘thank you’ and carry on with the packing. Unenthused. Either they didn’t care or they were used to such comments. I think its more of the former. After learning an art, you perform for the sake of an ‘illiterate’ audience, for them to ‘appreciate’ your culture, day in and day out, would you care ?

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As the sun was kissing its goodbyes to the water, the entire world seemed going crimson ! Perhaps because it was an intimate moment that i was capturing. Me and my delusions refuse to fizzle away.

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Am now back in Mumbai. Upon landing here, someone said, ‘its so hot here’. ‘Just like Cochin’.

Carelessly tossing his luggage strap across the shoulder, another replied, ‘its the same sea’ !

The same sea. Yes. But a sea of difference !

Cochin In First Person !

Travel Tales, ,

I have been in Kochi or Cochin for the past three days. Am writing this through the balckberry ! Thats something that am doing new !

From air, Cochin looks so beautiful. Green seems to be de-rigueur. On landing, there still is green. I have been here before. I realise i have been missing this place !

Through the taxi’s windscreen, i still see green. But now, green is interspersed with large hoardings calling you to loosen your purse strings and buy either jewelry or an apartment !

There are so many hoardings for Jewelry and Apartment complexes that it bewilders me. ‘Gullff money’ says the van driver. I want to believe him. ‘We are a 100 % literate state’ he says. I smile. A weak smile.

Through the window, I read the names on the stores. Keralites have some ‘different’ names. Between a Joe, Joy and Jose they seem to have covered up the commercial establishment. I count four stores for each name, within a space of two streets. The Keralite J!

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We are on a backwater boat ride. Our guide takes us through some ‘interesting’ places. He calls. Our boats stop at villages, where few folks demonstrate toddy tapping, rope making etc. Having seen such & similar activities, I think that this was part of conducted tours for the ‘foreigner’, who perhaps would look at the whole exercise with awe.

I look around, only to find some of our own group members looking at these in ‘awe’! I juggle the meaning of ‘foreigner’ in my mind. And alter it of course.

A foreigner. In native land !!

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I sit in the boat and as the boatman rows. I access my mail on the phone. I see a mail. I see it is from a fellow blogger : Dinu. He hasn’t seen me. I don’t know him, other than through his ‘Offline Blog’ !

He asks if I am on Cochin, and leaves a number for me to call. I wonder how he knew. And then, I realize, that ‘Twitter’ has been fed well !

I get excited. And call. I hear his voice. We speak.

This is the first time, I plan to meet a a fellow blogger who I don’t know. Virtual connections shed their illusory image and gets real !

Supercool. I think. Whew !

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Coconut trees dot the skyline. Inbetween them, are waterways, and we continue to be on the boat. The bulging biceps of a thin boatman, seem to have a magical effect on boat as it cuts though water & weeds give way.

‘Till 1992, all these were paddy fields’, our guide says. My eye brows raise. ‘1992 ?’ I ask.

He understands the surprise in my question, and quips, ‘in 1991, Kerela became 100% literate and that has meant that the sons and daughters of farmers no longer work here. So, these are all coconut farms now’, he says.

He says ‘1991’ with a level of definiteness, as though, one morning in 1991, Kerela achieved 100 % literacy and reading this in the morning newspaper, the farmer stopped his kids from going to work over breakfast. And converted his paddy fields to coconut trees by lunch time !

Sure it didn’t happen this way, I think. That’s besides the point. For the boat has moved on. To another part of the Coconut farm, which was once a Paddy field. Till 1992.

‘Un’common Wisdom !

Word Cache, , , , ,
At 7.50 in the morning i wait at the lift. Press once. And for a full 3 minutes and change, the lift remains stuck at the previous floor. There is substantial anger that is seeping in me.

I think of ‘sensitive’ people-experiences that i have had in the past. ‘Husband-gets-in-keeps-the-lift-open-for-wife’ types ! Those kinds are numerous in the complex where i stay ! My chest swells with anger. Today, i resolve, i am going to have a few things to say to such ‘sensitive’ husbands and wives, i decide.

The lift opens. There is a lady, with her two children there. The children, all decked for school. Except for the hair. The little girl’s hair is still getting combed. The lady looks up at me, and says, ‘we are sorry’. ‘They have the bus to catch’. My anger dissipates.

I smile. And say, ‘thats not a problem’ !

The lift arrives at the ground level. I point to the door, and say, ‘ after you ‘. She herds the kids out, looks at me and says, ‘thank you’ !

It feels nice. I wonder where my anger went. A few minutes later, as i drive i reflect. Common courtesies are so rare these days, that the most simplest of them : Sorry and Thank You, are so rarer than honest politicians !

In the high rise that we stay in, there are educated & well endowed folks ( with money et al, just in case you thought of something else), who reek perfume and drive mega wheels. And there are the others who would like to belong to this set !

While ‘everything else’ is present in abundance, Common courtesies seem to be in short supply !

To be able to say ‘hello’, to smile, to give way to the elderly, to say thank you & sorry !are simple things to do !

I wonder why the arrival of money dispels courtesy ! I wonder. Thats some thought for the day.

I think i value and practice a fair degree of courtesy. By corollary : I cannot have money and mega wheels right ?!?

Ah ! Now, i know why i cant make that money ! Atleast now, there is a reason !

This morning, wisdom arrived through the lift !

Fundamentally Speaking !

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As the world shakes under the impact of Lehman Brothers & Merril Lynch, i cant but help wonder whats happening. These after all were institutions that were built on layers of credibility over many decades ! To see them sink into a quick sand is not only numbing but also unnerving. Well, this isnt a post about Lehman or Merril ! I am no economist nor am i anyway qualified to write about them !

But this pictue that i clicked sometime back, seems to rest at the forefront of my memory and refuses to go away ! Here i was at a restaurant in Bangalore. Having ordered a take away, I had nothing else to do, but twiddle my thumb and check the cobwebs. Thats when i looked at the main notice board in the restaurant !

The wide array of services befuddle me !

Ranging from giving Punjabi Lassi, to Tandoori Chicken, Aloo Gobi to a real estate business is quite a spectrum.

Add Life Insurance, Medical Insurance, Mutual Funds, Tax Return filing, share brokering, Public Provident Fund through State Bank Of India, ‘all woodwork’ (wardrobe etc)…. under one roof..well, the spectrum becomes SOME spectrum !

Dawning the curiosity coat, i approach the chap manning the counter, and ask him how many people form part of this set up, vaguely pointing to the notice board and the array of services displayed ! He looks up, shouts out ‘two Tandoori’ to his waiters, and says, ‘One’.

And adds with an emphatic ‘ME’ in a ‘dont-you-see-it-dude’ tone !

I look up with a ‘Lassi-to-Unit-Linked-Insurance-Plans-is-a-quite-a- stretch’ look on my face. His eyes look sqaurely into mine, and asks me, what do i want to do : buy shares ? sell shares ? Do you have house to rent out ? Do you need to rent a house ? File tax returns….?

The big burly gent arches his eyebrows, wanting to know what i would prefer ?

An apparition of my commerce professor, with balding head and steady voice appears in front of me ! With no fear of sounding ‘repetitive’, he used to say, ‘stick to fundamentals’ !

‘Err..’ i reply, ‘my rotis and gobi masala’ !

Ganpati Says Good Bye !

Word Cache, , ,
‘Visarjan’ was a familiar term, i thought. I had heard that somewhere. But just couldn’t place that term correctly ! Nevertheless, that is a term Mumbaiites are very familiar with. Thats when the Ganapati festival comes to an end. Thats when the ‘elephant God’ is ‘immersed’ !


The fervour of the festivity is best experienced and not seen on TV. The TV may come to your living room, but its not quite there ! Thats a profound affirmation thats gotten reconfirmed after seeing Visarjan at the Powai lake !

There is colour. Noise. Music. Dancing. Synchronised bands. Festivity. Pious devotees. Vada Paavs. Policemen. Balloon sellers. Trinket sellers. All dot the landscape. Along with sundries like us.



Endless streams of lorries transport Ganpatis from their respective locations to water bodies and Powai being one of them, we go to experience Ganpati in all forms. The lorries and tempos have Ganpatis & some ‘prasad’ being distributed from the vehicle itself ! It was quite a sight ! There was a huge crane, presumably to lift the heavier Ganpatis and we saw a few of them too ! Each http://healthsavy.com/product/clomid/ lorry was preceeded with music and dancing ! This sure was an experience to remember !


And when Ganpati turned his back and faced the lake and the water, all set to be immersed, i am sure he must have wondered what i was looking in awe for ! And in that moment, those majestic eyes on the idol seemed to come alive and convey to me the inheritance of a culture. A way of life. Of sharing joy, food and perhaps a renewal of hope to face the days ahead.

And then, they hoisted him on the crane ! And he was gone ! Just then i remembered that Visarjan used to be a term used to say ‘Parade Dismiss’ ( & go home ) during my National Cadet Corps days. A few pieces of the puzzle seemed to fall in place !

And as the Powai lake seemed to take him in, he blobbed up one more time. Wet, yet regal in all finery and decoration. I wonder if it was to check if i got the message right!

Tell Tale Signs !

Travel Tales, , , ,
Our road trip from Mumbai to Goa saw us see some amazing roads and fantastic weather.

And hey, the camera also spotted some wonderful road signs. I guess my expectation of the creative talent of those in the Highways department was rather skewed to what was indeed reality.

There seems to be some passionate soul(s) who seems to peep out of every other road sign with a ‘differently’ written out message on road safety ! I clicked some and many others, just whizzed by!!

Image 1

This message was so poignant to me ! The number of drivers with fast machines who thought they were in a Formula One race was not funny. But this sign, set the tone, reminding all that this was indeed a highway. The first time i saw this, an auto smile popped up ! For i encounter morons who think roads are runways. So.


Image 2


This was lucid enough but for the word alignment ! At first glance, as we whizzed past the sign and i read it as ‘Everything is fine in an Italian Accident’. Thinking of it as a work of an ardent Congress party loyalist, we slowed the car down and backed the car up just to re-read the sign post. Relief descended. We drove on !


Image 3


How much more cryptic can you get ?!? Four words. But the message was through loud and clear. Surprisingly we had some good mobile network coverage through most parts of the drive. I guess this sign was indeed warranted!

Image 4

If previous image had four words. This one had three ! This also seemed to hold a message for life & living. Atleast, i would like to think so. ‘Slow & Steady wins the race’ is cliched and passe !

‘Fast Wont Last’ is here, ladies and gentlemen. How cool !


Image 5

For those who have a preference for tea, here is something. I wonder whats is ‘safe’ tea! Perhaps one that you can drink after reaching the safe confines of the destination. Made by a ‘safe’ person..! What is it ?

Image 6


How more direct can this be said ?!? I take a bow !

Image 7


This seems to be a valiant attempt ! But still, it read different. It took a couple of 10 seconds to fully understand what was getting said. But it did sink in !

Image 8


That one was for me. I am happy they are proud of me ! The ultimate recognition from the Highways department….

Ok. Lets get very real here. Well, i am not the best of drivers.
But then that’s not the best of English grammar either. So !

Introductory Offer

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The sidewalk has had new granite benches.

We venture out to sit and watch the world walk past. Some converse animatedly. Others walk in trance with perhaps a couple of tons on their shoulder, metaphored by a laptop bag ! Yet others walk in blissful love. Many others walk with children playing pranks and pulling hair.

We sit there and watch the walk. Well aware that when we walk, some others would too. But i insist on sitting there. The bright lights from the store, the brand new bench, and the beautiful people are all worth it.

Right opposite are three clothes stores for children. ‘Pumpkin Patch’, says the one thats right opposite. It has some interesting mannequins. I rejig my memory on which village fair i had spotted similar design. The interesting design catches my eye and i am keen on examining them for sometime.

In quick time, i spot a kid that emerges from beneath the mannequins. She still is talking to the mannequins when i see her first. My eyes twitch like an antler’s ears, at the sound of a rustle. I see two adults at the background.

Parents of the little one. I assume. Oblivious to me or anybody else watching ,they are busy shopping for the little one. Pink frock. Blue Jeans. Shoes. Overalls. They try everything.

Carrying the child to the ‘trial’ room every time they want to try something new ! It must have been some trial. For the kid wasn’t exactly happy with the interruption of ‘play’ with the mannequins.

Later, my wife tells me, that Pumpkin Patch is an international brand for children ! ‘European,’ she says. ‘A pair of jeans for a 3-4 year old can retail at Rs.2000 a piece’. I jump out of my chair ! Two thousand !! Somehow, something doesn’t seem ok. I am unable to put my finger on my exact discomfiture.

Children being introduced to branding & brand preferences at an age when mannequins are looked at as playmates, doesn’t ring the right bell. Perhaps Naomi Klein’s ‘No Logo’ that i am reading now, has come to influence me heavily !

The next door is another children’s store. Its glass window has an announcement : ‘Introductory offer : One for one free’.

“Mamma, look, there is an offer here. Its one for one free. Lets buy the red Romper mamma ! Please…! ” A kid whose introduction to the world cannot be more than a few years implores. His mother takes him in.

We walk away. I walk in silence. ‘Whats on your mind ?’ The wife asks.

My mind races with questions. Have parents paused to take stock of all that they offer to their ‘introductions’ ? I am not so sure.

I decide to keep that discussion for a later date.

‘Whats a Romper?’ i ask. That was on offer, you see !

Facts that Matter !

Travel Tales, , ,
Introducing Mrs. Vanita Kandekar. She runs a small tea shop on the National Highway, from Mumbai to Goa.

A small shack with a gas stove. A vessel with oil inside. A few large bottles that hold sweets and snacks. A wooden bench. A thatched protrusion into the frontage. A picture of Bharat Mata that stares at you. ‘Tiger’ biscuit. There are a few other articles which are of lesser significance that escape my eyes.

We don’t see any of these. The drive has been long and we decide to break for tea. We park on the side and cross the road to the tea stall to be presented with the description above. We ask for tea. She smiles. And asks us to wait.


A sudden activity buzz abounds.

Four ceramic cups & saucers, that seem to have popped in from nowhere, get washed. The milk is boiled, the ginger is cut with a, ‘i’ll get it fresh for you‘ comment. Our tired legs smile at our luck. My wife spots the vessel with oil. A pleasant exchange between Ms.Vanita and my wife enuses in Marathi. Cut. Vada Pav is cooking !

The tea gets served. Four cups. We say we ordered only for three. She pours the tea into the fourth cup, and passes it on to the next store vendor. ‘Special Tea for you’. Matter of fact ! My stare stays static, focused on her. She has moved on.

I get curious and pop a few questions. My wife translates in Marathi. It gets Mrs. Kandekar talking.

“I have three sons. One of them passed away. The other is mental. The other does farming”.

No whining. No sad under tone. Just matter of fact. The by-the-side conversation seems to be her way of keeping us engaged as she focuses on the worn down stove.

‘We are brahmins. We don’t get jobs. My son didn’t get either. So he does farming’. No whining. ‘He is ok‘. Just matter-of-fact.

‘I make Rs.25/- every day. On a good day, i make Rs.40/-‘. Matter-of-fact. I look away into the undergrowth. ‘Rs. 25’ continues to ring in my ear. That wont get me half a litre of petrol, i think. She attends to the Vada thats cooking.

Soon, Vada Pav is ready. She serves it with green chillies.

We clean the plate like animals in a zoo who have been unfed for long.

We take it further. The incurable southerners that we are, we ask, if she can make us Bhajjis with the green chillies.

‘Sure‘. She says.

In 5 minutes, the bhajjis with green chillies are ready. Delicious. We munch on. She chats on. About Ratnagiri. About the weather. And so on. She asks us to take care while driving through. We thank her.

Its time to pay. She quotes a low figure. A ridiculously low figure. We think she has made a mistake and help her count ‘unit’ wise. ‘

Ah she says. Dont include the Chilli Bhajjis’. Thats on me.’

Did i hear that right ? My ‘disbelief’ stare returns. If the Rs.25/- per day income rattled me, the spirit to give ( in a matter of fact way) , sows a new seed.

I look away. Into the sky. I want to hug her. I suddenly want to talk to her more. To unravel the spirit to give. To focus on the present. To just be. I want to tell her that she left a mark.

A word clot and an emotion hemorrhage engulf me. I just stand and stare.

And today, i write. We moved from her road side tea stall a few weeks ago. The memory could be old. Her shade of ‘share ware’ seem to take new roots in me !

A Vacation Rant

Travel Tales, , , , , ,

I am on vacation. Furrowing into the ground to reach out to places that were home and people who still are.

I write this from Bangalore ! A 21 degree temperature at the new airport was the welcome note ! First time at the new airport. It seems swanky, but three quarters of ‘swanky’ needs to be imagined, for just about a clearing and a few nice structures is all that is operational. Good beginning !

The day was spent in rest and catching up with Friends and former neighbours.

I see children who have grown taller. New shops that have come up. Same old friends with less /hair and more fab. Sorry infrastructure that has stayed sorry. The apartment with a new coat of paint.

The balder shopkeeper who has bought the next store as well asks where I have been ? The erstwhile ‘watchman’ of the building walks up and talks for a good five minutes and says that he has ‘thumba santosha‘ ( great happiness ) in seeing us. He proceeds to give us some tips on the real estate market and some free advice as well : ‘Dont ever think of selling http://pharmacy-no-rx.net/celexa_generic.html your flat ‘ ! He himself works at the RTO office !

A child who i used to play with smiles. She asks me, ‘ who i am ‘ ! An old neigbhour passes me by without recognising. I steal a glance at the mirror to check. There are new cars in the parking lot. New notices on the old notice board. The grass looks greener under the new paint scheme.

Memories hold the contrast better. The contrast becomes a story of debate. Both with the people i meet & with myself in the mind. ‘Ah, what happened to his college admission ?’ ‘You have a Nilgiris department store here…? Where were these guys when we were here..’ and such else.

In a years time, many things have remained here. Yet quite a few have changed. And i think thas the way the world is. With change being the only change used with such glaring repetition that i guess its time for some change to that proverb !

Tomorrow, we leave for Tirupati. Will continue writing accessing this page. If you have any special wishes let me know. I will pass them on !