Golden rules for Bangalore Traffic

There are some rules for traffic which one should know and follow religiously, to - at least - get the license to drive on the road. And then there are some golden rules that supersede these rules, in Bangalore as in RoI, which give you license to thrill!! With India doing relatively well Down Under, I thought jotting down these golden rules as cricket metaphors would be readable, to say the least:

1. Exposed leg stump rule:
India, being an  ex-British colony drives on the left hand side of the road, which logically means that one should overtake slower moving vehicles from right. Now that is what the traffic rule says but do we actually care for that? In Bangalore, people with bigger vehicles (with ego as big as their vehicles), try overtaking all and sundry - be it equally big vehicles, trucks or that ubiquitous cool guy (cow), chewing cud with attitude. In this act of superiority these vehicles tend to go so far on the right that they leave lotsa space on their left. It is this space - can be visualized as a shuffling batsman who has exposed his leg stump - that churlish bikers, like us, make use of, to bowl them around their legs, in other words, overtake them from left.
Callous, dangerous but fun!!

2. Benefit of doubt:
While riding/driving keep an eye on the footpath, by-lanes and of course road. That is but obvious isn't it? But this is important in Bangalore since if there is a meandering vehicle on the road, it is your duty to give him the right of passage. Bikes coming out of by-lanes irrespective of the direction of traffic on the main road, people on the footpath - all eager to jump on the road, auto rickshaws - even more eager to take a U-turn, animals roaming on the side lanes - all of them have to be given right of passage. The benefit of doubt in all the aforementioned cases goes of course not to the player (that is you) but to quote Ravi Shastri - these slippery customers.

3. Speed breaker:
Another overtaking tip! If there is a speed breaker it is meant for the smaller/slower vehicles to overtake the larger ones. Bigger vehicles, for the love of their axles, will slow down at speed breakers (hence the term) and in turn either expose their leg stump (a la 1), or try to make space for that lofted drive on the off-side. And this, my friend, is your moment where you can pitch in a yorker/skidder and run past the humongous vehicles.

How to remain ahead after overtaking and not giving side to irritating/honking vehicles will all be in another bestseller (not started working on it yet!) : Bang-galore and the art of Motorcycling!

विभक्ति - Inflection

नवीन, विशुद्ध, कंटकरहित
मर्यादा का पाठ पढ़ा चला
मोह-विमुक्त, ओजपूर्ण वो धुरंधर
नाम इतिहास में अंकित करने चला।

पार्थ-सुत वीर अभिमन्यु
एकाकी मन, एकाकी धुन से
खुद का मार्ग प्रशस्त करता चला।
सिंहनाद से उठते कर्कश शब्द
शस्त्रों के ठनाकों को,
हुंकारों में अपने विलीन करता चला।

ज्ञान संकीर्ण, हुनर प्रगाढ़
अनुभव विहीन
रक्त पिपासु धरा को
अपने लहू से तृप्त करने चला।

होता ये युग में एक बार
बिरले ही जन्मते हैं, बदलते हैं संसार
लघु जीवन अपरिमित सार,
विभक्ति होती इनकी अपरम्पार!

Leh: To Heaven through Hell - 2

Tourist Hotel (Rooms with Independent Balcony), Manali
Time: 7 am, 28th June

"I think if we tie this around the bag, it would save us from rain", D spoke while handing me the plastic cover we had bought at Manali's Mall Road, last evening.

"Yes thanks", I responded.

It was already 7 o'clock and I was little anxious about our late start for the Manali-Leh road trip. From the locals we had heard that the road is generally always jammed because of the narrow road leading to Rohtang Pass. I was putting in all my might, hurriedly trying to tie our back-packs into the luggage carrier stand attached to the Royal Enfield that we had hired. SS and PP were busy tying their stuff on the other bull. Though we had started this process, as early as 6 am in the morning, it was already an hour and we were still struggling with it. Blame it on the extra clothes that I had packed in my back-pack because of which it was little out of shape and refusing to get into the luggage carrier. After quite a few rounds of heave-ho's we felt satisfied with our effort and decided to start on the exciting journey to Ladakh - this was a ride spread over three days, with stops at Jispa and Sarchu.

The bulls boomed through the picturesque Manali road towards Rohtang Pass. The sky was bluish, the greenery around was superlative with morning dew shining like beautifully cut diamonds off the blades of grass and leaves of the tall trees. Add the thump to the in-sync heart beat and what you have is every rider's dream. As we climbed up the twirling roads towards the pass, we could see the long queue of four-wheelers waiting to get on the other side. Thanks to our lean and mean ride, we overtook this queue of vehicles (this queue was at least 10-15 kms long) and stopped at a check-post to pay decongestion fees (what an irony this was!). We had to wait for another hour at a treacherous and narrow road through the valley to get on the top of Rohtang Pass. Thick snow slopes and lanes through snow walls there, made us feel like we were riding on clouds. However a quick look on the terrible road brought us back to terra firma.  The snow was whiter than any white I had seen in my life!

As we were thumping down the pass, SS had his first fall. With the steep valley on the left and whiter-than-white snow walls on the other side, a truck driver (true to his nature), took an aggressive swipe near us and SS lost his balance. The road was slippery owing to the melting snow and it was tough to control the bull downhill. SS and PP had minor injuries (or at least that is what they conveyed to anxious D's queries) but the way they had taken the fall was pretty encouraging. Within minutes of this unscheduled break we were on our way towards the real test of our riding skills. Downhill the road was non-existent, only pebbles and gravels lining and sloping hairpin bends.

On the other side of Rohtang Pass was Khoksar, a dry arid landscape which looked more like a desert but for the temperature.  We took a much needed break and filled ourselves with Maggi first and Rajma-Roti later. You should keep yourself stuffed at these altitudes as you tend to loose appetite and become vulnerable to AMS (Acute Mountain Sickness).

Leh: To Heaven through Hell - 1

As I gazed down the Himalayas aboard 6E448, I could sense a proud gush of air through my lungs. Having conquered, on wheels, the passes and slopes, which were now offering such a majestic sight from top, it was but natural! Isn't destination the sole reason for a journey? 

And does it make any sense to undertake an arduous and strenuous journey when destination is equally beautiful. 484 kms on a two wheeler with a pillion - sounds so sadistic, especially when the pillion is one's wife! There are other ways to get a sore ass, body ache and coat of dirt and dust (and to get that sadistic pleasure by troubling your wife :P) How beautiful can be a stretch of 30-40 kms, with the same view of mountains (some snow capped ones adding to your misery) staring back at you for multiple such stretches. It is like watching a bio-scope and becomes so monotonous at times. With wavy roads (if you can call the assorted gravels and boulders laid randomly on mountain edges, to plot your fall, that!) giving you the bumpiest rides and adding to your already nauseated brain. And it is like icing on the cake when the hotels and tents you stay have some horrendously selfish guests who play loud music and dance, not giving a damn about how tired you are after your ride across mountains and valleys. 

These would be exact words of a cynic who gives two hoots to your mantra of life - Riding is meditation, it is the only time when you are one with the road you are riding on. To those cynics and the sour grapes cases and also to the "someday" people, just pack your bags, shut your trap and get on the road. With 500cc engine and at least 42Nm torque between your legs, the dirt and wind across your face and the mountain ranges with absolutely stunning visuals, you get what a yogi yearns for - Nirvana.

"The plan" was initiated by D and we had all agreed, that if it is Leh, it has to be a bull ride. Thanks to SS, who had done quite a research on the topic and modes of commute, we got enough information to materialize "the at least once in a lifetime ride". After my two previous failed attempts, I was little cynical myself whether I will ever be able to ride to Ladakh. But it was the super joshiley group of D, PP and SS who rubbed off their enthusiasm on me. With fancy names - Agents CDD, PP, SSS and BK,  "the plan" started taking form and shape in March with a mail chain which had all information about itinerary, ticket booking, hotels/tents and also return via Srinagar!! I was always fascinated by Kashmir. When I was in college, someone had mentioned that the highest motor-able road in the world is in India. My nerdinesshad made me read about that then and that is how my craving for a ride on the Manali-Leh stretch started. Riding, like whiskey, is an acquired taste and as Mr Khosla (from the movie Khosla ka Ghosla) had said - "In cheezon ka maza dheere dheere lena chahiye, wo kahte hain na jee hold your drink". To relish this taste and to live our dream, we started from Bangalore on 26th June. After reaching Manali the following morning (that bus ride was one vomit-inducing one), we checked in at Tourist Hotel (Rooms with independent Balcony!). I was really eager to have a look at our ride and after breakfast, SS and I started for "Hardev Motors" - these were the guys who had agreed to rent their bulls to us for the treacherous terrain of Manali-Leh highway, at a price of course. We met the owner, Sonu Rajput (which I was least interested in) and enquired about the bulls (about which I was super charged).  We had to wait for sometime there as the bulls had gone for a wash. After finishing the paper work (paying the pending amount, handing over our original IDs and collecting the bullet's papers), I was pretty restless and gulped down the coffee, offered to us by the very helpful owner, to curb my eagerness. It was during the discussion about the road condition that I heard the thump and rushed out to see what can be called pristine beauty - It was the new classic 500, with customized fuel tank (22 lts capacity, as Sonu Rajput confirmed), customized carburetor and smaller exhaust. We took it for a spin on the steep street near the shop and the bull topped its looks with superlative performance. The mechanic there offered us some tips about riding on the hilly terrain and handed over the tool box (myriad spares - tubes, spark plug, headlight bulb, even a pump). We stuffed it in the luggage carrier that was affixed to the rear and set off for our hotel, feeling like proud owners of the chrome and gray bull (at least for a week).

A few Conversations and a train journey - 3

This was a long pending one,  previous two parts are here:

A few conversations and a train journey
A few conversations and a train journey - 2



As the man took out his luggage and started moving towards the exit, I jumped on the opportunity to take the window seat. Incidentally now I was face to face with the old man who was trying to make a conversation with me.

"You working?" - boomed the baritone. For such a lean frame that deep voice seemed out of place, as if he was hiding an amplifier in that flowing kurta of his to multiply his original amplitude or pitch (honestly speaking it has been years since I revised acoustics or physics for that matter).

"Yes in Bangalore".

"That is a nice place, pensioner's paradise". That is easy to guess how he knows this, he would have weighed his options of retiring in Bangalore.

"I guess not anymore, it is quite crowded now and the traffic there sucks", though I had no intention of offending the old man with my choice of words, I didn't know how else to put it. May be I should read more!

"Well India in general is crowded. We are all trying to survive and everyday is a struggle for existence, it is like a war here...just look around", I was not sure whether that was a condescending thought or he was just bemused by so many people fighting for a sitting place. Of course we are a billion strong country but what is lacking is not the resources but civic sense in us.

It seems that old man almost read my thoughts. "What matters is how we behave. You know when we were growing up people around used to talk how being independent will make us self-sufficient and powerful". Oh one of those midnight children!

"We believed every word of it, I still do. We have so many young people. Even if one guy spreads his knowledge and good sense to two, we can be a much better nation".

"But does anyone care? I mean why should anyone, when things like daily bread is the topmost priority and people would do anything to get that", this was my response. It was not senseless lines that I just blurted out. It was a response that had built up over time after seeing such stark difference in our society. Even I have travelled across length and breadth of this country and have seen a lot.

"Beta beg, borrow or steal is not what makes a great nation. Haven't you heard of this - A noble soul has reverence for itself".

I had definitely read that somewhere...but where?

"Our religious texts say what you do is what you become. Spread the goodness, do good things and become good. Good karma will make things around you beautiful. Geeta says though that you should not be attached to your karma." Wait a second, where are we going. There is a sanyasi in saffron robe sitting next to us and this man is quoting Geeta. Isn't it blasphemous of a bhogi to chatter about karma and life in front of a yogi!

"I don't think I am qualified enough to talk about that", was my terse response. However as soon as I uttered those words I was feeling the guilt.

After some pause, I callously asked "Are you in service or retired?"

"I am a doctor, once a doctor, always a doctor. Doctors do not retire". God! This man is so full of words!

"I have a son and a grandson, who would now be of your age I guess". Nope I am not telling you my age, even if you ask.

"They stay with you?"

"No, they are in Columbia". Wow! So that his how he is so glib in making a conversation. He must have travelled multiple times to the Americas.

"How often do they visit, or do you go there?", I never know how to frame my questions.

"We have not met for fifteen years now!", was his response. I could feel the remorse and a sense of anger in those words.

Another long pause and then he says "He married a Columbian and had brought her to Allahabad, what a shame that was". Now that is hypocrisy. Wasn't he just quoting all religious texts sometime back and now all of a sudden sulking about his son not marrying according to his wishes!

"May be it was my mistake. He returned back and has not come back to India since. Some twenty-four years back I had gone there with my wife on the birth of our grandson". Sometimes it is so easy to open up in front of strangers. You tend to speak your mind without caring about any prejudiced response. But none of this was my concern. I have a basic flaw when it comes to numbers. If there is any glitch in arithmetic my mind seems to just get stuck there.

The man of experience gauged this even. "Well my grandson had come with his mother some nine years back on his grandmother's funeral".

"I have learnt the lessons of my life the hard way. Beta you should never have a parochial outlook. Open up. A person of means can be a mentor to his subordinates, his juniors. That is how a society is built. You can not impose rules for such simple logic".

Just then a tea vendor appeared near our bay and interrupted the old man's speech. As I turned to ask for tea I could see at least a hundred eye balls gazing at us. That is bound to happen if you hear two people talk in English in Hindi heartland. I took two tea and offered one to the old man.

And then it struck me - "A noble soul has reverence for itself", Fredrich Neitzsche! Even Ayn Rand had quoted the same in her foreword to The Fountainhead. And this gave me goosebumps - you do not expect people to quote Neitzsche in a train from Allahabad to Patna.  I do not remember what exactly we talked about after this realization since I was in complete awe of this man. But what I do remember is the old man's last trick off his proverbial hat, when he handed me his business card. The name on it was - "Dr F.N. MS, FRCS"!

ख्वाबगाह का पंजीकरण

राजू (या वो रवि था !) मुस्कुराते हुए निकल गया. बाहर से उस छोटे बच्चे की चीख़ अब भी आ रही थी।  पता नहीं उस बच्चे को क्या हो जा रहा था जैसे ही उसके पापा ऑफिस के अंदर आते वो बाहर से चिल्लाना शुरू कर देता ! 

ये दफ्तर है सब-रजिस्ट्रार, बीटीम का, जहाँ प्रॉपर्टी और शादी का पंजीकरण होता है।  हमने अपना मैरिज सर्टिफिकेट बनवा लिया था इसलिए अब अपने सर पर छत सुनिश्चित करने आये थे।  सुबह से हम इस पूरी पद्धति को समझने का प्रयास कर रहे हैं।  हमारे बिल्डर का जो प्रतिनिधि आया है उसने हमें एक कोने में बिठा दिया है और खुद बला की फुर्ती दिखा रहा है।  बीच बीच में वो हमें देख कर एक औपचारिक मुस्कान भी दे रहा है।  जाने किधर जाता है , किन लोगों से बात करता है और फिर हमें आकर अपनी टूटी-फूटी अंग्रेजी और कन्नड़ में समझाता है।  उसे ये सारा क्रम या तो याद हो चुका है या फिर उसने इसकी बहुत अच्छी प्रैक्टिस की है।

इस पूरे केओटिक माहौल में लोगों का उस दफ्तर में आवागमन निरंतर जारी है।  और इसी सैलाब में वो irritating बच्चा भी शामिल है।  अगर एक निस्पक्ष नज़र से देखें तो बच्चा बड़ा मासूम है लेकिन उसकी एक कर्कश चीख, उसकी मासूमियत और उसके साथ आपका उसके प्रति उमड़ता लाड, आपसे छीन ले जाती है। उसकी माँ ने उसे एक आई-पैड पकड़ा दिया है ताकि वो शांत हो पाये लेकिन थोडा उसके जीन्स का असर कहें और थोडा उसकी रूचि, बीच बीच में उसकी चीख आपके धैर्य को झकझोर देती है।

आखिर हमारा काम कुछ आगे बढ़ता है और गणेश, बिल्डर का प्रतिनिधि, हमें आकर इसकी खबर देता है।  और हमें ये भी बताता है कि इस रजिस्ट्री को सत्यापित करने के लिए दो विटनेस चाहिए।  अब इस भीड़ में हमसे ऐसे सवाल पूछना या तो हम गणेश का अबोधपन कहते या उनकी मज़ाकिया फितरत - कि भैया ये तो विटनेसों का महा कुम्भ है किसी को भी पकड़ लो।  मगर जब उन्होंने ये बात बहुत ही गम्भीरता से दुहराई, हमे समझ आ गया कि यहाँ किन्ही विशेष शक्ति प्राप्त किरदारों की बात हो रही है।  और यहीं पर राजू और रवि प्रकट होते हैं।  इनमे से कौन राजू है और कौन रवि हमने ये जानने कि जिज्ञासा जाहिर नहीं कि और न ही इन महानुभावों ने बताने कि कोशिश की।  इन शक्तिमानों का बस इतना काम होता है कि ये आपके सेल डीड पर आपसे बिना पूछे अपना हस्ताक्षर दाग देते हैं और अपने इस शौर्यपूर्ण कार्य के पश्चात मुस्काते हैं।  यहाँ पर ये बताना ज़रूरी है कि इस मुस्कान को औपचारिक न समझें। वैसे भी मुस्कान का विशेषार्थ आप खुद नहीं समझ सकते और हमारी इस गुत्थी को सुलझाई गणेश ने - वो भी बिलकुल शब्दहीन विश्लेषण।  आँखों के इशारे को हम जितना समझे इससे यही ज्ञात हुआ कि इसका हिसाब बाद में होना है।

अब इन सब घटनाओं के बीच में हमें भी एक बार हीरो बनने का मौका दिया गया।  और हमने पूरी गम्भीरता से अपने किरदार को निभाया।  हुआ यूँ कि राजू या रवि में से कोई एक (पता नहीं कौन) अन्तर्धान हो गए थे और विटनेस कि कमी पड़ गयी थी। उस भीड़ में हमें उम्मीदवार बना दिया गया और काफी सरलता से हमारा चयन भी हो गया।

सवाल: हेसरू (नाम कन्नड़ में)

जवाब: बिकाश कुमार (गम्भीर आवाज़, बिलकुल किरदार में आते हुए)

एड्रेस: बेल्लंदुर

बस यही २ सवालों के जवाब देकर हम जूनियर आर्टिस्ट से सपोर्टिंग कास्ट के पायदान पर चढ़ गए।  इस लघु भूमिका के पूरा होते ही हमारा भी काम हो गया था और गणेश को सधन्यवाद उनकी फीस (जिसमे राजू और रवि के स्पेशल अपीयरेंस का मेहनताना भी था) देकर हमने सब-रजिस्ट्रार ऑफिस का निकास पकड़ा।  थोडा ख्वाबगाह अपने नाम करवाना और थोडा सपोर्टिंग कास्ट का किरदार बखूबी निभाने का गुमान कहें, हम अपनी छाती को २ इंच चौड़ा महसूस कर रहे थे।  

BDA complex shop no. 22

बहुत ही बिखरी हुई भीड़ थी वहाँ पर.… कुछ लोग अंदर बैठे थे और कुछ बाहर खड़े थे।  अंदर उतनी जगह भी नहीं थी और ३ कुर्सियां और २ स्टूल उस छोटे दुकान को और छोटा कर रहे थे।  २ कंप्यूटर एक बड़े से लकड़ी के मेज़ पर रखे थे, जिनके सामने २ लोग बड़ी ही तन्मयता से लगे हुए थे।  उसी मेज़ पर कई ड्रावर बने थे जिनको पैसे, कागज़ों के बंडल के अलावा बाकी उपयोगी वस्तु जैसे कि स्टेपलर, रबर बैंड, कलम और अमूमन ऐसी वस्तुएं जिनको ड्रावर में ही रखा जाता है - के इस्तेमाल में लाया जा रहा था।  वहाँ पर बैठे दोनों लोगों कि उम्र २५-२६ से ज़यादा की नहीं होगी।  

हमने जैसे ही अंदर कदम रखा, हमारे दाहिनी तरफ बैठे उस बन्दे ने मुड़कर पूछा कि क्या चाहिए।  जब हमने आने की वजह बतायी तो उसने एक छोटी मुस्कान के साथ कहा कि हिंदी टाइपिंग तो बहुत वक्त लगेगा, आप कंटेंट छोड़ जाइये और कल आपको एक प्रूफ मिल जायेगा। हमारे पास एक ही दिन का वक़्त था पर जिस भरोसे के साथ उसने ये बात कही हमें लगा कि ये आदमी हमारा काम सम्भाल लेगा।  हमने झट से, उसे पहले से देवनागिरी लिपि में लिखा हुआ एक कागज़ पकड़ा दिया।  एक सरसरी निगाह से उसने उस कागज़ को देखा और अपना मोबाइल नंबर देकर दूसरे दिन आने को कहा।  जिस बेिफक्री से उसने उस कागज़ को अपने बाकी पड़े हुए बंडल में रखा, हमे एक बार थोडा शक़ हुआ कि क्या ये कागज़ उसे बाद में मिल जायेगा और क्या कल तक वो उसे टाइप कर तैयार रखेगा, वो भी देवनागिरी में।  और अगर वो नहीं कर पाया तो ?

खैर अपने आप को थोडा सांत्वना देते हुए हम वहाँ से निकल पड़े।  बैंगलोर हलांकि काफी कॉस्मोपॉलिटन शहर है पर देवनागिरी लिपि में टाइपिंग करवाना भारत के किसी भी शहर में कठिन है - हाँ, यूपी-बिहार में शायद उतना नहीं। पर आजकल कुछ कह नहीं सकते, जिस रफ़्तार से हमारी मादर-ए-जुबां लुप्त हो रही है उससे कम से कम इतना तो ज़रूर है कि हिंदी टाइपराइटर शायद ही आपको कहीं मिले।  टाइपराइटर से हमारा मतलब मशीन और आदमी दोनों से है।  कोरमंगला के बीडीए काम्प्लेक्स में दुकान नंबर २२ में कम से कम हमें एक तो मिल गया - ढूंढने से भगवान् मिलते हैं और शायद आज मिल ही गए।  ये दुकान रेंटल अग्रीमेंट टाइपिंग, एफिडेविट और भी विधि-संभंधित हर प्रकार के कागज़ी कामो के लिए है।  और वो दुबला-पतला सा चश्मिश - काफी दोस्ताना अंदाज़ था उसकी मुस्कान में - हमारे लिए तो भगवान सरीके ही हुए और उनका नाम भी तो महेश था।

दूसरे दिन हम फिर पूर्व नियोजित समय पर पहुंचे। और आज तो भगवन के साक्षात अष्टभुजावतार देखने को मिल गया। जिस सहजता से महेश अपने इर्द-गिर्द लोगों से काग़ज़ लेते उसे सरसरी निगाहों से देखते और मुस्कान बिखेरते हुए काम ख़त्म कर कागज़ वापस पकड़ा देते, उससे तो यही प्रतीत होता था कि उनकी कई और  भुजाएं हैं।

हमें देखते ही वही परिक्रम दुहराया उन्होंने और पता नहीं कौन सी भुजा से एक देवनागिरी लिपि में प्रिंट किया हुआ कागज़ पकड़ा दिया, मुस्कान के साथ। पर उनका प्रभुत्व या यूँ कहें उस प्रभुत्व का हमपर असर वहीँ पर सिमित हो गया।  करीब पच्चीसियों गलतियां थी उस प्रूफ में और हमने वहीँ सर पकड़ लिया कि अब ये सब कैसे ठीक होगा। काम भी तो ये आज ही होना था।  हमारी इस कशमकश को देवाधिदेव भाँप गए और फिर से अपनी मुस्कान बिखेरते हुए कहा कि आप साथ बैठें तुरंत काम हो जायेगा। अब हमारे पास और कोई चारा भी तो नहीं था। और फिर हमारी टिप्पणियों कि मदद से महेश ने काम शुरू किया और फिर से हम उनके प्रभुत्व से प्रभावित होने से वंचित नहीं रह पाये। हर २ शब्द टाइप करते करते कोई क्लाइंट धमक जाता और फिर से महेश बड़ी सरलता से उनकी उलझन सुलझा देते। इसी बीच हमने ये भी समझा कि महेश की कोई बहुत बड़ी डिग्री नहीं होगी पर उनकी कंप्यूटर पर भयंकर टाइपिंग स्पीड काबिल-ए-तारीफ़ है। साथ ही माइक्रोसॉफ्ट वर्ड और गूगल हिंदी टाइपिंग में उनका तजुर्बा अचभित करने वाला था।  और इन सबके बीच उनका कभी पैसे का लेन-देन, कभी अपने सहयोगी कि टाइपिंग में मदद, कभी प्रिंटर के कागज़ों को समायोजित करना - शायद इसी को स्ट्रीट स्मार्टनेस कहते हैं जिसकी कोई क्लास नहीं होती, ये आप जैसा नाम से पता चलता है स्ट्रीट पर ही सीखते हैं। आखिरकार महेश ने हमारा काम ख़त्म किया और उसका मेहनताना लेकर फिर से बाकी खड़े क्लाइंटेल में मग्न हो गए।  अब आप सोच रहे होंगे कि ये पूरा ब्लॉग तो देवनागिरी में ही लिखा हुआ है तो फिर किसी और पर इतना भरोसा क्यूँ? इसके लिए हम डी को ज़िम्मेदार ठहराएंगे जिन्होंने कहा था कि कागज़ पर टाइप ही होना चाहिए प्रिंटिंग नहीं चलेगी।लेकिन आख़िरकार हुआ वही जिसका सुझाव हमने पहले दिया था लेकिन उनके तैशपूर्ण प्रत्युत्तर पर हमने चुप्पी साध ली थी। और वो कहते हैं न घर कि मुर्गी दाल बराबर बिलकुल वैसा ही कुछ हिसाब किताब रहता है हमारा, हमारे घर पर।  

Don't Worry, be Hampi

I was trying hard, rather my best but with my limited knowledge of south Indian languages, it was tough to decipher which part of south India did they belong to...

This was a much needed break that D and I had planned and Hampi was a unanimous choice. Only contentious decision was the place to stay. While D was insisting that we stay at a star rated place, I on M's suggestion, wanted to stay at Shanthi Guest House on the so called Hippie Island. It was quite a pleasant surprise for us after we landed up here. After disembarking from the Hampi express at Hospet we bargained a lot with a few auto rickshaws and finally got one to Hampi. We got down at "Boat Point" (which incidentally is also the Hampi Auto Stand) and crossed the Tungabhadra river - which was hardly a 50m stretch -  on a motor boat to reach Virupapura Gaddi, better known among tourists as Hippie Island. As we walked towards the guest house the place reminded me of other firang-infested Indian cities, Goa and Pondicherry. There were firangs all around us and the narrow lane which we had to take to reach the guest house had walls with graffiti, cafes, souvenir shops and even money exchange joints on one side, while serene and beautiful paddy fields on the other. Shanthi guest house was much better than we had imagined. With paddy fields right across our small cottage, a hammock on its porch and basic furniture it was a perfect setting for a lazy weekend.

Boat Point, Hampi

Coming back to the alien south Indian language that i was trying to decipher. The source of that was a group of guys who had come to stay at the cottage next to ours. These guys came in after a day of our stay and were quite a vociferous group. While the night prior to the arrival of this  group was calm and only troubled by crickets and croaking frogs, the next night had more noisy intrusions by this group.

Love, music and drugs have a universal language. With these guys playing Pink Floyd it was not tough to guess what was their preference in Hampi. While D was quite confident that it was Malayalam, I thought it was Telugu as I was sure I had heard an "aypendi" or a similar sounding syllable.

Hampi is quite an experience and the best thing about the place is there is hardly anyone around. And since it is firang-infested it has just the right dose of commercialization. The guest house itself is not out of the world but a few unique amenities here are pretty decent. The eatery with low rise dining slabs and mattress on its sides is the first thing that catches your eye. It is next to the paddy fields again with unique bell shaped lamp shades and pretty neat. The only thing that troubles you there are flies. Being next to a field has its side effect, in flies and mosquitoes but brighter side is the serene view and low hum of  crickets and other insects that makes nights here pretty musical. (By the way did you know that plural of cheese is cheeses, this i overheard - and cross-verified - from the firang group who were chatting at Shanthi Guest House restaurant, next to our dining slab).

The Hampi ruins are amazingly beautiful and certainly takes you to a different world. As Rodney Walker, the pensioner from South Africa, who we met here told us - Hampi is a feeling that needs sinking in and one can easily spend months here finding your own personal spots. A few must sees here are Vithhala Temple (this has the stone chariot which kind of defines Hampi ruins), Achyutaraya Temple and the Pushkarani, both at Krishna Bazar and Ganika Vidhi. The walk from Ganika Vidhi to Vithala Temple is quite a trek and sholayesque. The hills and the route between precaciously placed rocks are strikingly awesome. You can not help but think of the times just six centuries ago. The pushkarani, which was a water body surrounded by stairs was probably equivalent to the modern day malls where people spent their evenings. The scale of the Pushkarni and the Ganika Vidhi as well as the Krishna Bazar complex talks volumes about the lost civilization. Our auto rickshaw driver-cum-guide informed us that Krishna Bazar was the market where gold and other precious ornaments were sold.

The huge expanse of Hampi amazes me and it is equally amazing how such a fledgling civilization ended with so much of the past still in pristine state. I definitely need to look up what the experts say about the extinction of civilization at Hampi.

PS: While returning from our trek of Vithala Temple we lost our way in the hills. We however luckily met a few people and followed them to reach Virupaksha Temple. From there we walked to the boat point again to try our luck to cross the river on boat. And lucky we were, for in that morbid darkness there were a few people who asked whether we need a coracle ride. It was dark like hell and hardly anything was visible. A few lights on the other side of the river was our only beacon. It was a wonderful coracle ride and we survived it to tell a tale or may be to die another day.

He speaks...

Some of the very commonly used phrases here in my office:

Too heavy a hammer
Low hanging fruits
Throwing da baby wid bath water
Kicking da can dwn da road
Dropping it on the floor
Smoking gun
Put our finger on
Peeling the onions
Cast in stone
Shooting one's own foot
Errand to run
These things can burn us
Take a stab on this
Get your feet wet
Boiling the ocean
Missing good boats
Missing the forest for the tree
The proof of pudding is in eating it
Paint ouselves on a corner
Look over the shoulder
Let the sleeping dog sleep
Going through the motions
Cross the bridge when we reach there
It becomes hairy
This is a flag day!

Sholay: A Total Recall

Sholay is not a movie, its a way of life...at least my life ;)

Watching Sholay on the big screen (that too in 3D) was a complete experience. Complete, since people would have seen it at least a hundred times (what!! you haven't seen it that many times - get your filthy mouse off this blog) on small screen but watching it in theater with surround sound (and in 3D!) was surreal. Let me just give you instances why this experience of mine was a complete paisa-vasool and much more:

* Things flying off the screen right into your face - well that is what 3D is all about - but this is logs, gravels, boulders from Ramgarh! I mean, come on!

I was pretty sure that the train robbery sequence would be amazing on 70mm (that, technically speaking is width of the film reel but that is how you show off when you mean larger screens) and it absolutely was! With dakus flying-off horses' back and in slo-mo was thrillingly beautiful. It felt like I was there on the maalgaadi from district Jamalpur with dacoits trying to rob - what is my best guess...oil drums. And that scene where the logs shoot off the track after Veeru's daringly "high" act - WOW! They spent some money on adding a few logs to give you that 3D shocker and I tell you that was money well spent. On a sober note, they could have done much better with some other scenes but I am not complaining. There were screeching sparks from the tracks, boulders in that Basanti ki ijjat ka sawal  chase sequence and ashes from the blown off bridge in the climactic scene, where the surreal experience was just perfect!

* Characters - as if they are your long lost kin and reunited after ages (39 yrs for some, at least 20 for me when I had seen Sholay for the first time on TV).

Jai, Veeru - Refreshingly Young and dashing in denims - no gay undertones here but Veeru looked raw and He-Manish in almost every frame (but for his tummy in some scenes :P). 

Basanti - Smoldering, what else would you call her with that extra pink blush on her cheeks.

Gabbar - Yucky, ugly, loathsome and worth every penny of that poore pachaas hazzar!

Thakur - Crisp, revengeful and youngest old man in Ramgarh.

Ramlaal - An Ideal Man Friday who would dish out anything from cash to photos to FBI secret files (just getting carried away here), at one twitch of Thakur's eyes.

Imaam saheb - actors should take lessons from his blind-act - bechara to the T and his "Itna sannata kyun hai bhai". Gave me goose bumps in Abdul's mourning scene.

Radha - the silent one and the conscience keeper.

Mausi - So cute that you would love to have a mausi like that! - Reminds me of that Chashm-e-baddoor scene where Dipti Naval kissed Mausi (her dadi in that movie) and then says - "Lipstick laga!"

Surma Bhopali, Angrezon ke zamane ke jailor, Sambha, Kalia, his side kicks (that actor who got his place in cinematic history with that so blandly uttered abuse), Shankar, Dinanath, Kashiram...part of my consanguinity.

* Dialogs - so Sholaystic (not scholastic mind you!).

It starts with - 

"Aadmi aur sikkey me shayad yahi farak hai"

"Istick toh mein rakhta hun aur jo istick maine phinphnayee"

"Haramjada"

"Wo hai na hari ram naii, jailor ka bada moonh laga hai muaan...haaaan"

and the epochal ones -

"Kitne aadmi thhe"

"Basanti in kutton ke samney mat nachna"

"Bahut katili nachaniya hogi...humko bhi dikhao 2-3 thumke"

I am a complete sucker for anything Sholay. What! You don't believe, ask D - she has to keep up with my stale Sholay jokes, day-in, day-out. Sholay is history, geography, memories...it is much, much, much more than a movie. I mean it has made people's lives - take Raju Srivastav for instance, he has made a career out of Sholay jokes.  

Thanks D for this total recall! Had I not watched Sholay in theater - zindagi se shikwa na hota par zindagi, zindagi na hoti ;).