A very happy new year !

Chartres, which boasts a mag-ni-fi-cient cathedral, was enduring a hot time the day I got there. And then out of nowhere there is a breeze and before I know it a few clouds materialize in the afternoon and cools the entire place ! I run for cover to what happens to be a painter’s studio.  We talk about travel experiences in India (his experiences) and France (mine), I watch him paint, he even has a few organic tea bags (which is not a very common thing in that café-land) , makes a black tea and after some 30minutes of pleasant chatter and ‘bonne journée’ s afterward, I prepare to leave. Just when I step out, I see this drenched leaf and those lovely droplets sticking out on the surface. After quite a bit of stuggle with my ancient Nikon Coolpix I go ‘click’. And then, head towards the train station for a train back to Paris.

Looking forward to many more such pleasant travel experiences, tons of travels, cartloads of books and films, lots of photography and year filled with fun :-)

Here is wishing you the same & more ! ;)

Combing God’s Own Country in search of the Gods – I

Kerala – It was meant to be, this weekend. Was sitting aroud until 9:00PM on Friday evening , with a very good idea of how the how the longish Chritsmas break was going to be and then out of freaking-nowhere materializes a trip that takes us through Western Ghats, to the seaside at Kerala and finally to meet the Gods themselves at the God’s Own Country !
 
Setting out the early morning and into Western Ghats that put one to instant peace as soon you enter the ghat roads, we reached Wayanad and managed to find accomodation in a basic, but a neatly run, ayurveda hospital :), where they had a few recuperation rooms empty.

We did’nt brighten at conquering 2100m of Chembra, since we were quite sure that half of Bangalore was camping at that heart-shaped lake on the way up. A low-altitude idling seemed more our style this time and we spent the Saturday evening at Pookot lake in Wayanad. Do a bit of walking on the path around the lake and you could lose the weekend crowd and the penguin dustbins in a matter of minutes. It gets quieter and more peaceful as you walk along, except for that occasional touristy horse-drawn carriage. 

We walked along the path of that lily-filled lake (Now that I mention it, I’ve always remembered Pookot lake with lilies floating) pondering one more time over this question of immmmmmense consequence to humanity :) : Football craze, Axe and Sickle, Literature, ability to churn out quality regional movies without latching onto Bombay bandwagon, a million coconut trees and so much more – Kerala and WB are strinkingly similar in so many ways, are’nt they ?
 
And right here, a fine example of how you can write a post about something that is totally irrelevant to the subject line ! :) Theyyam stories will follow..

Make (or break) my trip

A friend and I had been on a recent trip to Mangalore, Udupi/Malpe and we thought it was great fun! Until we recounted  that weekend a coupla days back during another trip ..

Here, a summary of events:

- Stuck in a horrible traffic jam near the Majestic Bus stand. We walked the last kilometer to the bus stand in all the slush from the rain that had just stopped – hoping that we’d make it to the bus on time.

- A rough road incident.

- A car screaches and almost lands on my heel. Just when I’m about to give a piece of  my mind to the driver on what  a nut-head I think he is, the reckless chap turns out to be a collegue at work. What a nice little ironical touch ! :)

- We lose each other at the bus station. And my friend has no freaking clue where the bus is. I try to call and  ‘The subscriber you have dialled is currently out of reach’  happens. We learn later that we have been more or less going round and round the platform in search of each other :)

- Right now, I have been standing in a drizzle , in front of the bus with a revving up engine for the last 15 minutes  trying to tell the driver that my friend would arrive ’soon’,'very soon’ , ’shortly’, ‘presently’, ‘on the way’. I’m almost running an internal contest in my head: Which one of these two is likely to happen first - running out of all sorts of adverbs and other figures of speech available in Engish language to use to convey the immediacy of my friend’s arrival or my friend materializing so that we could actually board the bus ? The driver guy can’t quite understand whether I’m blocking the bus or begging him.

- Ullal beach – Entry restricted today. Who would’ve thought ?! The guard at the gate says – Madam, some important rally madam. (Some hotshot I presume). You could have come yesterday no, madam.

- A book by William Faulkner lost in an auto

- Mobile phone left behind in ANOTHER auto

- Waited in pouring rain on the road for full 30mins before we found a mode of transport that could take us to the Mangalore police station. To file a compliant for a lost handset.  Don’t laugh – If you have a mom who has breathed forensic science for a good part of her life,  you’ll have to write out an FIR and endure an enquiry even if you lose a pin ! :-)

- A stomach that threatens to bring out anything that has gone inside.

- A loooong wait at the Mangalore bus station (3 hours) waiting for the bus that would take us to Bangalore to arrive.

- A 14-hours ride to Bangalore amidst rain and traffic jams. We reach Bangalore next day afternoon 1PM.

I cannot think of a weekend in recent past when so many things went astray in a span of 2 days.  Retrospectively, it seems cussed minute after minute :) 

 Yet, yet , YET – what we remember of that totally jinxed weekend is the amazing sunset at Malpe port and the funny sight at the police station we’d gone to at Mangalore where all the guns and ammunition where neatly arranged and decorated with flowers :-) :-) for the puja ! And that brain-tickling question – would they pull out those guns if a riot broke out that day or wait for the puja to pass :-o ?

So there you go – the events that transpired during a trip that we had thought was fun :)

Travel fun has probably got nothing to do with the destination, or weather or the person with whom you travel.   Like most things, travel fun too is dependent on something internal to oneself – a state of mind. You have a lousy mood and you pick up the first thing that comes your way and call it the reason for a bad trip :) 

What makes or breaks your trip ?

Thadi – A land of wind, stars and rolling mountains

If you’ve been on an amazing trip, but yet lazy enough to write a trip report, what do you do ? You merely post a picture and tell yourself that you’ll come back and edit the post later with the trip account :D

Martinete (Flamenco)

Martinete (considered one of the oldest styles in Flamenco) is such a big hit with me for the simple reason that it does not have any guitar accompaniment. The lack of an accompaniment exemplifies the sound made on the dance floor , reverberating and producing a dramatic sound effect in all the silence! I fell for it first two years ago while travelling Andalucia…and still in awe at the command that these Flamenco dances have on their body !

Needless to say, Carlos Saura makes this piece even more dramatic with all the light playing in the background. Revel !

[The video itself is an excerpt from Carlos Saura's Flamenco]

JKJ, I and Waking up woes..

Jerome K Jerome and I have an amazing connection.  It is a pity that two people who connect so well were born in two different continents, a century apart.  And that we never even got a chance to meet and say hello.  Fate, one calls it ?

 You know what the thing is with this Slow-down-We-are-moving-fast-Letz-make-the-moment-last anthem ? It is cloying. Too much evangelism which even before one realizes turns into a philosophical musing – to the point of defence.  You could say my peanut brain has a slight problem comprehending all that profound stuff. And then comes along JKJ, talking about idleness and chaos the way he does – without any of the philosphical intellect,  just as a natural state of being. Not as a virtue that humour writers have made it to be, as a matter of factness about the whole thing.  Chaos is not glorified – only a few minute observations are made and reflected upon. 

He writes about travelling in a group & packing: And I tell myself – Ah, familiar. Talks of getting a household chore done - He is so right, I’ve been there.  Then derision on weather forecast – I know it too! (I have a remarkable story here, most singular one. But in the context of JKJ, it seems quite beside the point..)

And then, just when I had this entire thought process on how no one *I* know wakes up in the morning smiling, and how there is a not a single soul in this whole wide world who would like to give up sleep to meet a cold December morning in Bangalore – except those dudes who have these weird notions about early mornings being inspring and all that strange stuff-,  JKJ writes of waking up woes and comes *this* close (Brings index finger and thumb close together) to my opinions on that hardship.  aaaawww, maaaan! What, you read my mind even before it even existed ??

It is the same when you go to the sea-side. I always determine – when thinking over the matter in London – that I’ll get up early every morning, and go and have a dip before breakfast, and I religiously pack up a pair of drawers and a bath towel. I always get red bathing drawers. I rather fancy myself in red drawers. They suit my complexion so. But when I get to the sea I don’t feel somehow that I want that early morning bathe nearly so much as I did when I was in town.

On the contrary, I feel more that I want to stop in bed till the last moment, and then come down and have my breakfast. Once or twice virtue has triumphed, and I have got out at six and half-dressed myself, and have taken my drawers and towel, and stumbled dismally off. But I haven’t enjoyed it. They seem to keep a specially cutting east wind, waiting for me, when I go to bathe in the early morning; and they pick out all the three-cornered stones, and put them on the top, and they sharpen up the rocks and cover the points over with a bit of sand so that I can’t see them, and they take the sea and put it two miles out, so that I have to huddle myself up in my arms and hop, shivering, through six inches of water. And when I do get to the sea, it is rough and quite insulting.

One huge wave catches me up and chucks me in a sitting posture, as hard as ever it can, down on to a rock which has been put there for me. And, before I’ve said “Oh! Ugh!” and found out what has gone, the wave comes back and carries me out to mid-ocean. I begin to strike out frantically for the shore, and wonder if I shall ever see home and friends again, and wish I’d been kinder to my little sister when a boy (when I was a boy, I mean). Just when I have given up all hope, a wave retires and leaves me sprawling like a star-fish on the sand, and I get up and look back and find that I’ve been swimming for my life in two feet of water. I hop back and dress, and crawl home, where I have to pretend I liked it.

And despite the self-inflicting torture that this waking-up ordeal has turned into, I try to press on with ideas conceived on my warm bed at night – morning walk, morning photography, silent morning coffee.. Brain-dead, am I ?

Education system talk..

between Alice , Mock Turtle and Gryphon. I CANNOT think of a better parody of today’s education system !

[You don't have to know anything about Alice in Wonderland or the Mock Turtle to get this. But you DO need a strong gut, since I laughed and laughed and still laughing.. For those new to this wonderland, it is enough to know that Alice is a little girl and Mock Turtle is a turtle (well, amongst other things :) )]

Read on.

‘When we were little,’ the Mock Turtle went on at last, more calmly, though still sobbing a little now and then, ‘we went to school in the sea. The master was an old Turtle–we used to call him Tortoise–’

‘Why did you call him Tortoise, if he wasn’t one?’ Alice asked.

‘We called him Tortoise because he taught us,’ said the Mock Turtle angrily: ‘really you are very dull!’

‘You ought to be ashamed of yourself for asking such a simple question,’ added the Gryphon; and then they both sat silent and looked at poor Alice, who felt ready to sink into the earth.

At last the Gryphon said to the Mock Turtle, ‘Drive on, old fellow! Don’t be all day about it!’ and he went on in these words:
‘Yes, we went to school in the sea, though you mayn’t believe it–’

‘I never said I didn’t!’ interrupted Alice.

‘You did,’ said the Mock Turtle.

‘Hold your tongue!’ added the Gryphon, before Alice could speak again.

The Mock Turtle went on.

‘We had the best of educations–in fact, we went to school every day–’

‘I’VE been to a day-school, too,’ said Alice; ‘you needn’t be so proud as all that.’

‘With extras?’ asked the Mock Turtle a little anxiously.

‘Yes,’ said Alice, ‘we learned French and music.’

‘And washing?’ said the Mock Turtle.

‘Certainly not!’ said Alice indignantly.

‘Ah! then yours wasn’t a really good school,’ said the Mock Turtle in a tone of great relief. ‘Now at OURS they had at the end of the bill, “French, music, AND WASHING–extra.”’

‘You couldn’t have wanted it much,’ said Alice; ‘living at the bottom of the sea.’

‘I couldn’t afford to learn it.’ said the Mock Turtle with a sigh. ‘I only took the regular course.’

‘What was that?’ inquired Alice.

‘Reeling and Writhing, of course, to begin with,’ the Mock Turtle replied; ‘and then the different branches of Arithmetic– Ambition, Distraction, Uglification, and Derision.’

‘I never heard of “Uglification,”’ Alice ventured to say. ‘What is it?’

The Gryphon lifted up both its paws in surprise. ‘What! Never heard of  uglifying!’ it exclaimed. ‘You know what to beautify is, I suppose?’

‘Yes,’ said Alice doubtfully: ‘it means–to–make–anything–prettier.’

‘Well, then,’ the Gryphon went on, ‘if you don’t know what to uglify is, you ARE a simpleton.’

Alice did not feel encouraged to ask any more questions about it, so she turned to the Mock Turtle, and said ‘What else had you to learn?’

‘Well, there was Mystery,’ the Mock Turtle replied, counting off the subjects on his flappers, ‘–Mystery, ancient and modern, with Seaography: then Drawling–the Drawling-master was an old conger-eel, that used to come once a week: HE taught us Drawling, Stretching, and Fainting in Coils.’

‘What was THAT like?’ said Alice.

‘Well, I can’t show it you myself,’ the Mock Turtle said: ‘I’m too stiff. And the Gryphon never learnt it.’

‘Hadn’t time,’ said the Gryphon: ‘I went to the Classics master, though. He was an old crab, HE was.’

‘I never went to him,’ the Mock Turtle said with a sigh: ‘he taught Laughing and Grief, they used to say.’

‘So he did, so he did,’ said the Gryphon, sighing in his turn; and both creatures hid their faces in their paws.

‘And how many hours a day did you do lessons?’ said Alice, in a hurry to change the subject.

‘Ten hours the first day,’ said the Mock Turtle: ‘nine the next, and so on.’

‘What a curious plan!’ exclaimed Alice.

‘That’s the reason they’re called lessons,’ the Gryphon remarked: ‘because they lessen from day to day.’ [:-) :-)]

This was quite a new idea to Alice, and she thought it over a little before she made her next remark. ‘Then the eleventh day must have been a holiday?’

‘Of course it was,’ said the Mock Turtle.

‘And how did you manage on the twelfth?’ Alice went on eagerly.

What a pun on English – the language !

Somnathpur temple – A Hoysala fashion statement

Like the age-defying stone carvings in the temples at Belur and Halebid, the Keshava temple at Somnathpur too stands testimony  to the exquisite stone work that flourished during the Hoysala times.

The Somnathpur temple (Side view)

What holds the temple up

 Intricate carvings

So there – The difference between specialization and super-specialization !

Putting Bryan Adams in perspective

My perspective, that is ;)

But that said, it must take a LOT to face Pavarotti on ‘O Sole Mio :)

That hazy shade of winter

You can plan and plan a weekend and, yet end up doing something totally different. What was originally meant to be a weekend in town to catch up on pending thoughts & things and a visit to Select turned into a trip outta town. Idle Friday nights, itchy feet, a friend ready to jump onto any sort of bandwagon that you might want to be on is a stupid combination. Whatever.

It was to the Hoysala marvel at Somnathpur, though this post is not about that.. It is about all those things that led up to it. So here -

- That orange innocent-looking morning sun seen rising above cauvery setting fire to the placid water below..

- Those sugarcane fields that flock the long narrow winding road.

- There is something magical about watching sugarcane fields during the flowering season. With the ground fog that still lurks around when the first ray of sun hits the ground and the cloudy apprearence that the carpet of sugarcane flowers create, it looks as if the cane stalks are sandwiched between two swarming clouds.  Ground fog that forms in early winter, sugar fields in flowering season and an early morning winter sunrise is a killer combination. That’s all I’m saying.

- Water bodies with half open lilies lit by the orange-turning-yellow sunlight.

- Two-legged, four-legged & winged creatures out cold early morning – building character :)

- The sound of silence, interrupted only by the creaking sound made by unoiled cycle chains.  Yes, early morning milkmen traffic.

- Tea. There is a distinct taste that firewood adds to tea. I love it.

- The morning jog (Pant, pant..) around the Somnathpur temple to beat the cold while waiting for the temple to open.

- Breakfast: A sugarcane pulled out from the freshly harvested pile on the road side

- That fact that you have to only merely touch a waterpump with your little finger for the fresh cool water to gush through.

An orange gleam here , a splash of green there and a gushing white nearby – That witch called Nature needs to do so very little to create a memory. Or a song.

If you were heading that way last weekend, and saw someone mesmerized by all that spooky nature stuff going on around, not even able to look through a piece of glass and click that shutter release – That loser was me.