tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-71034542024-03-26T23:37:55.515-07:00jayantiblogshereJayanthi Gopalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04377793298308663704noreply@blogger.comBlogger300125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7103454.post-72222936636964689442023-07-30T04:19:00.003-07:002023-07-30T09:55:29.827-07:00Kispay ! Kispe bharosa karoon ?<p> </p><div class="gE iv gt" style="cursor: auto; padding: 20px 0px 0px;"><h2><table cellpadding="0" class="cf gJ" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; border-collapse: collapse; display: block; margin-top: 0px; width: auto;"><tbody style="display: block;"><tr class="acZ xD" style="display: flex; height: auto;"><td colspan="3" style="margin: 0px;"><span face="Google Sans, Roboto, RobotoDraft, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: 14px;"><span style="color: #2b00fe;"><b>Kispay ! Kispe bharosa karoon </b></span>?</span></span></td></tr></tbody><tbody style="display: block;"><tr class="acZ xD" style="display: flex; height: auto;"><td colspan="3" style="margin: 0px;"><br /></td></tr></tbody></table></h2></div><div id=":of"><div class="qQVYZb"></div><div class="utdU2e"></div><div class="lQs8Hd" jsaction="SN3rtf:rcuQ6b" jscontroller="i3Ohde"></div><div class="btm"></div></div><div><div class="aHl" style="margin-left: -38px;"></div><div id=":os" tabindex="-1"></div><div class="ii gt" id=":oh" jslog="20277; u014N:xr6bB; 1:WyIjdGhyZWFkLWE6ci02MDQzODkwNDEyMzU1MjUzNDUiLG51bGwsbnVsbCxudWxsLG51bGwsbnVsbCxudWxsLG51bGwsbnVsbCxudWxsLG51bGwsbnVsbCxudWxsLFtdXQ..; 4:WyIjbXNnLWE6cjQ3NDQ1Mjc1Njk0MTA3MTI2MCIsbnVsbCxbXV0." style="direction: ltr; margin: 8px 0px 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative;"><div class="a3s aiL" id=":og" style="font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: 1.5; overflow: hidden;"><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Many years ago, I was one of the first few people who signed up for Paytm. </div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirfCsbhQweQ1nVRIr-M4YI7ATo577Xncy9shKi-Wna6tVrwl8UuH27vH2LXypGTmP-kNhaI47WKazRXUB9wMoN_Q_0tII_UEorvoxcJjtfPC_Z6nVgnDjczS1JexfGytJ5Pbitq0N5ueK1UtEEc8DpVm8r5O61BcZAkVV6YnyJzMZ4S46EN-uc/s4032/paytm%20pic.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirfCsbhQweQ1nVRIr-M4YI7ATo577Xncy9shKi-Wna6tVrwl8UuH27vH2LXypGTmP-kNhaI47WKazRXUB9wMoN_Q_0tII_UEorvoxcJjtfPC_Z6nVgnDjczS1JexfGytJ5Pbitq0N5ueK1UtEEc8DpVm8r5O61BcZAkVV6YnyJzMZ4S46EN-uc/w300-h400/paytm%20pic.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><br /><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><br /></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">This was much before the demonetisation days. UPI PAYMENTS were not so popular in the pre -demonetisation era. I was sold out on the idea and truly thought it was cool and exclusive thing to be signing up for the digital way of payments through the phone without having to handle cash. </div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYUFScFxdVRvzlgKj7svgFXuPiGLGfHKiW0jaJkIVahkmyclNdWmW456MAyg9srsx5mB6sRgs0xe_51RVovVPPtLEnQJz7ErutNA5-Nd-te3xB3DIdIV1qRxNhzO1pVeepnzBP3K2TPHVAYw6r_KM4wC2wnwR2FgnDlrugnIthe-qq0YFXRB6b/s1500/old%20currency%20notes%20%20.png" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1025" data-original-width="1500" height="219" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYUFScFxdVRvzlgKj7svgFXuPiGLGfHKiW0jaJkIVahkmyclNdWmW456MAyg9srsx5mB6sRgs0xe_51RVovVPPtLEnQJz7ErutNA5-Nd-te3xB3DIdIV1qRxNhzO1pVeepnzBP3K2TPHVAYw6r_KM4wC2wnwR2FgnDlrugnIthe-qq0YFXRB6b/s320/old%20currency%20notes%20%20.png" width="320" /></a></div>With demonetisation, Paytm had the first mover advantage and a windfall considering its business model scaled up due to that what management consultants would term as the ' black swan event' called demonetisation. Until then currency notes and funkily shaped coins would go out of print and mint and fade away from public memory every now and then. It was all seamless and painless and nobody really gave it a thought leave alone give it a name. </div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><br /></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixHwwVwpp6Hwxnib-L1_SkJMSNW5z8tofVZV_C6ML-wKeqD7N0-PkcSR656u6hhtTXjXh1Eq5wQpN1c0Xe6SztJOvoMMfjMNT_f_Qzw9a4j9-EIk2hZ84G3eztBHIGIDyLC3ZAv0d5_JQISP5mvzJKY23LiU3jd8fvqvU-mNkXoVXqu_SpDroK/s416/10%20paise%202.png" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="357" data-original-width="416" height="275" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixHwwVwpp6Hwxnib-L1_SkJMSNW5z8tofVZV_C6ML-wKeqD7N0-PkcSR656u6hhtTXjXh1Eq5wQpN1c0Xe6SztJOvoMMfjMNT_f_Qzw9a4j9-EIk2hZ84G3eztBHIGIDyLC3ZAv0d5_JQISP5mvzJKY23LiU3jd8fvqvU-mNkXoVXqu_SpDroK/s320/10%20paise%202.png" width="320" /></a></div>This was before ‘demonetisation’ became an adjective, verb and assumed historical significance. It has since then become the much abused 14 letter (un)parliamentary word’ in India and possibly elsewhere. For a long time coin and currency collectors made a fortune out of their hobby as Indian currency notes and coins went out of circulation and became a colletor's delight. </div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><br /></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Never before had anyone appeared to make an announcement at dinner time on national television channels about a certain currency note going out of circulation and shake up an entire nation and send everyone scurrying to squabble with their bank tellers. <br /><br /></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><br /></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Be that as it may, no one predicted that digital India would go almost cashless in a few years to come. </div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Thanks to COVID that followed a few years after demonetisation, every digitally savvy Indian cringed at the very thought of handling cash. </div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">You never knew when and who picked or wiped their nose ( or any other body part) before opening their wallet and hand out the cash to an unsuspecting shop keeper who then handed it to another and then to another and then you ended up being the unfortunate victim from the nasal remains that sheltered that deadly virus in that long chain of cash transfer. </div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">There was no scientific evidence that Coronavirus could survive and spread through the remnants of currency notes handed over by those who swiped their fingers after wiping their noses or other body parts. </div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><br /></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">But no one took any chances. </div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><br /></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">It was what historians of the twenty second century would describe as the era of heightened hygiene in the attitude of the otherwise easy going digital Indian who was known to go easy when it came to public hygiene and cleanliness. </div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Digital Analysts who tracked data from various sources from that era would tell you that in those years even the most hopeless alcoholic consumed less alcohol in an entire year compared to the hygiene conscious tetotaller digital Indian whose consumption of alcohol soared every time she soaked her hands (and other body parts) with sanitizers that promised to kill the deadly virus in no time. </div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><br /></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">The Coronavirus was god sent for the young and ambitious startup that launched Paytm. Their timing was impeccable. The next morning after that dinner time announcement on national television they put out a <a href="https://www.moneycontrol.com/news/business/startup/demonetisation-how-paytm-gained-from-note-ban-and-why-it-used-pm-modis-pic-in-ads-2432963.html" target="_blank">front page ad in leading newspapers about this new digital payment app called Paytm. </a></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><br /></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Trust me when I say they could have had no insider information on this. The god of good fortune was on their side a day after that eventful night. </div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><br /></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">In the months that followed, no one blamed them for disrupting the credit card and debit card market. They came in believing that the cashless payment wallets could peacefully coexist with the VISA and Mastercards of the world. There were no lobbyists lobby hard against UPI unlike in the other ‘developed’ economies. Closer home there were not too many competitors in that space either. </div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><br /></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">‘ Proudly handcrafted in India’ read its tagline and it appealed to all the ‘make in India ‘ fans like me. </div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><br /></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">A little trivia revealed that they had their main server which stored all our data was located in some unholy place in China, believed to be the birth country of the Corona Virus. It still did not deter the ‘make in India’ fans and we conveniently looked over the server location, since we were being served very well with enticing discounts and cash backs. </div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><br /></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Unlike many others, I have had a long standing and monogamous relationship with my UPI id. </div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><br /></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Off late I am grieving because the app with which I have used my UPI id has betrayed me. </div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">I suspect my paytm app is being subject to some technical glitch or malicious bug. </div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">A few weeks ago I was automatically logged out and now I am being asked to login again if I want to transact through paytm. </div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">You would say that is a fair thing to ask from a data security point of view. </div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">However now I am asked to cumpulsorily tick ( the tick appears by default) that feature which says, I allow access to my WhatsApp to Paytm and for it to access my credit beaureau report. </div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><br /></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">If I untick that feature, I am logged out automatically. Technically it is not even a choice. </div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><br /></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">I feel cheated and betrayed. </div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><br /></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Who does that ?</div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">WhatsApp is your competitor damn it !!! </div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Why would you want to sell my data to them ? </div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><br /></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><div dir="auto">You too Brutus !!! </div><div dir="auto">You too ... sucking up to Suckerbug !!! </div></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><br /></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">I have been your faithful customer and I am not that naive when you say my data is 'secure' with you. </div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><br /></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">You ask me why I am feeling cheated and betrayed ? </div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">It feels like my long standing partner is selling me out like a whore to that ugly world where data privacy is increasingly becoming a big joke. </div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><br /></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">I do not feel safe and secure with you anymore. </div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Don’t cajole me with your deep discounts and cash back offers. </div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">I know, I hopelessly fell in love with you for all those sweet somethings that you sent me and the and silly cash backs that you dangled before me during our courtship days. Truth be told, they amounted to nothing.</div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><br /></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Now, I know better. </div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">You followed me. </div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">You tracked me, everywhere I went, everyone I met and possibly everything I spoke. </div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">You tracked me and you tricked me. </div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><br /></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">The last time I was standing in the long queue outside the passport office and bought myself a sandwich and a drink, I got this message asking me to call up this agency that guaranteed a visa, a job offer and later a citizenship in Canada or to a much warmer and prettier Australia, if I so wish. </div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">For a moment it really rekindled my 'on-off' relationship with God. </div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">I thought God was really answering my prayers and made a mental note to call up that immigration agency once my passport was renewed. </div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><br /></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">As I nibbled on that soggy sandwich, I shoulder surfed and read the message on the mobile phone of the guy who was sitting besides me at the passport office. He had scanned the UPI code from his mobile and had bought himself a stale, smelly and oily samosa a few minutes earlier from that kiosk. He got exactly the same message. </div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><br /></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">A thousand such messages later, I think I am now wiser. </div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Don’t you dare, whore me out to every desperate seller out there on the digital street. </div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"> </div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">I have spent an entire week without using my UPI id. </div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">I have enough immunity to fight the virus and bacteria, amoeba and Protozoa that may lurk beneath those soiled currency notes. </div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Atleast they would never track me to figure out which beauty parlour I go to and what exactly I get done out there. </div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><br /></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">I have had enough. </div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">I have deleted my app. </div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">It was a long standing relationship and there were good moments as long as it lasted. </div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><br /></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">I wanted to move on ... </div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">I wanted to digitally untangle myself. </div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">I unsintalled the app. </div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><br /></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">A week later ... </div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><br /></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">I did not expect to grieve like a much married widow. </div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><br /></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">But then here I am. </div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><br /></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">I have run out of petty cash. </div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">I owe money to the shopkeeper, to the milkman, to the ladies who organised the kitty party, the vegetable seller and even my domestic help. This lady who sold me a nicely spiced up Corn cob would not believe that I had cash, I had a smartphone but no paytm. </div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">I gave her twenty and promised to come back with a fiver as soon as I get one. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_-5chh0Tj0F8oZaX8i2wO8mn55TSEscrF1bJa2NkyTSq6QRh4ocgkSxhq8S6VvtZ6_IOYO7EN9UWXvGM5UN9cVQvt0W3CMkPCiMr_yKBRSjsDOnA99Tpovb3hr6e1bZOJCDsHruvRkPbrV8F_iuEX7QP4Twqadn0iuyIOA3d60blDb9oDexKx/s4032/paytm%20pic.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_-5chh0Tj0F8oZaX8i2wO8mn55TSEscrF1bJa2NkyTSq6QRh4ocgkSxhq8S6VvtZ6_IOYO7EN9UWXvGM5UN9cVQvt0W3CMkPCiMr_yKBRSjsDOnA99Tpovb3hr6e1bZOJCDsHruvRkPbrV8F_iuEX7QP4Twqadn0iuyIOA3d60blDb9oDexKx/s320/paytm%20pic.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><br /></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">They all look down upon me if I ask them if they will accept cash. </div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><br /></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">I know what they are thinking. </div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><br /></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">I swear I never pick my nose ( or wipe any other body parts) before handling currency notes. </div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><br /></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">But no. They would rather let me remain in their debt than take cash !!! </div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><br /></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Digital India is no country for anyone who wants to attain Digital moksha. </div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><br /></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">And so here ends my monogamous relationship with my longstanding UPI id . </div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9bNbRvNeKxHkXhL8r1_cSHaIG4Ic9NTleGNXbYc_Hxcl2rvzpO1m9_d36E0ewDFQRSzRBrKS4AXqguhXR5i0r5QwgOkZ5TxnUeVyprdIfe_9qAL7Zd1HzPIyDUnevWTffdJ6AtoGcsmLCsOsboqTHBnmWsWat99ZUWKJC8vH7h0Urb5G9UPmg/s995/upi%202.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="528" data-original-width="995" height="170" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9bNbRvNeKxHkXhL8r1_cSHaIG4Ic9NTleGNXbYc_Hxcl2rvzpO1m9_d36E0ewDFQRSzRBrKS4AXqguhXR5i0r5QwgOkZ5TxnUeVyprdIfe_9qAL7Zd1HzPIyDUnevWTffdJ6AtoGcsmLCsOsboqTHBnmWsWat99ZUWKJC8vH7h0Urb5G9UPmg/s320/upi%202.png" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><br /></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">GPay </div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Razor pay</div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">PhonePe</div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Amazonpay</div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">whatsapp pe</div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><br /></div><h4 style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small; text-align: left;"><b><span style="color: red;">Kispay ! Kispe bharosa karoon ?</span></b></h4><div><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></div><div><b><span style="color: red;">P:S : Paytm - no bad feelings. </span></b></div><div><b><span style="color: red;">And all you other Suckerbugs, do not send crawlers to my blogpost, my email , my mobile number and to all my contacts from the digital world. </span></b></div><div dir="auto" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><br /></div></div></div></div>Jayanthi Gopalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04377793298308663704noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7103454.post-19439719373947264152022-11-12T09:27:00.003-08:002022-11-12T09:27:00.161-08:00Ootta from Namma Thotta -2<p> Ootta from Namma Thotta ( food from our garden) </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxP0Fqlo4wRg2DFEfhDz4ErLLcYci9uaY1S9RSX0hBcsZhNvd2nBJLtCYYzRrQEphQTU5dg6PbtwGzQ2CTxQ3hyGSj8SLLdMirWWFVeZS_TVL_o8kRe1cq8bQP_a6j0cfnb6wgnm8ea3-0bX_CVvBbwXuBWL23nw0dYWwoxolt41cSE1PnWg/s4032/IMG_9019.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxP0Fqlo4wRg2DFEfhDz4ErLLcYci9uaY1S9RSX0hBcsZhNvd2nBJLtCYYzRrQEphQTU5dg6PbtwGzQ2CTxQ3hyGSj8SLLdMirWWFVeZS_TVL_o8kRe1cq8bQP_a6j0cfnb6wgnm8ea3-0bX_CVvBbwXuBWL23nw0dYWwoxolt41cSE1PnWg/s320/IMG_9019.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p>It has been a slow and steady progress , what with these incessant and unseasonal rains attracting the pests, rotting out the seedlings and making sowing and harvesting so unpredictable. </p><p>A big shout out to all those small farmers whose livelihood oscillates and depends upon mother nature's mood swings. Mother nature seems to be showing menopausal symptoms....</p><p>But ye shall not complain about the incessant rains... we need to soak in as much water as we can, because the summer is going to be scorching without all those trees that were sacrificed for the namma metro. And to keep us urban monsters fed and hydrated is getting to be a tedious tasks year on year. </p><p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6LTQ5T4650Pcm97-BhNcHHc1j-iWSsjJ2nY7an0wQDQ6AcV2yZ2PRntR2lXToBAJa8JKuJn55U7WNCrGF1qmrTzTOI7qdmIUuPyQa0CoQdAPsp_QbYEZTduMDksd--tp9pik4Y4-45gDhnhdS0PljEOGeFqTnzS4RZRNIDSB9JDGB1DsueA/s3599/IMG_9989.HEIC" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3599" data-original-width="2934" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6LTQ5T4650Pcm97-BhNcHHc1j-iWSsjJ2nY7an0wQDQ6AcV2yZ2PRntR2lXToBAJa8JKuJn55U7WNCrGF1qmrTzTOI7qdmIUuPyQa0CoQdAPsp_QbYEZTduMDksd--tp9pik4Y4-45gDhnhdS0PljEOGeFqTnzS4RZRNIDSB9JDGB1DsueA/w261-h320/IMG_9989.HEIC" width="261" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p>The harvest has been slow and steady. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDxc0K3ywYR4LKqjhpmJMJTZqm3Kjj1RbuTM0_iBbjjvpPY11jkYKJwVoNQWDuwyZ1l4DP4iBkdAz5Ep5kKamk8648qrC36iPr0blpXluvldQ5pGwEC5kNwlenVb6LD8oNL2zZ0uW4RrasPGYdpkNykyew8dqFTMzJMcFHPST_1fM3338q9g/s3956/harvest%202%20oct%2022.jpg" style="clear: right; display: inline; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="3956" height="243" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDxc0K3ywYR4LKqjhpmJMJTZqm3Kjj1RbuTM0_iBbjjvpPY11jkYKJwVoNQWDuwyZ1l4DP4iBkdAz5Ep5kKamk8648qrC36iPr0blpXluvldQ5pGwEC5kNwlenVb6LD8oNL2zZ0uW4RrasPGYdpkNykyew8dqFTMzJMcFHPST_1fM3338q9g/s320/harvest%202%20oct%2022.jpg" width="320" /></a></p><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnV-f7ZTqBjbp8rE7wx8LnzQBCXTPscK8bgoFG68DYMaO_l9jxb1l5lQFKEdoMvAIfJbtBBYX6NkQq2TKE-RKpqb8d-qm3bfe5LoqfB6rQqFZJ4wvJPE2oBZoIFo6kFxJbQJ0V81w2yCc5P902gGS55T19rf9lZx0zj47HGpXBXaNhkCvTjA/s3735/harvest%2016%20oct%202022.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="3735" height="259" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnV-f7ZTqBjbp8rE7wx8LnzQBCXTPscK8bgoFG68DYMaO_l9jxb1l5lQFKEdoMvAIfJbtBBYX6NkQq2TKE-RKpqb8d-qm3bfe5LoqfB6rQqFZJ4wvJPE2oBZoIFo6kFxJbQJ0V81w2yCc5P902gGS55T19rf9lZx0zj47HGpXBXaNhkCvTjA/s320/harvest%2016%20oct%202022.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivXNvj7Doovg4R6vMEczo2xdR4NqSrikIAlfGF15apigrL8jYPQ1VnijkdsBkFZGwky63kfu9VO9i1FBh6aYdm_n3dRx23XkXK35CxB2GPbNy-JEOh-xe4BseJIz4pSlf9HUUVkD42VFhB66umYguQAlxwsE2c4k_ZNSrTAhociOAdyaCxzg/s4032/harvest%20%205%20nov22.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivXNvj7Doovg4R6vMEczo2xdR4NqSrikIAlfGF15apigrL8jYPQ1VnijkdsBkFZGwky63kfu9VO9i1FBh6aYdm_n3dRx23XkXK35CxB2GPbNy-JEOh-xe4BseJIz4pSlf9HUUVkD42VFhB66umYguQAlxwsE2c4k_ZNSrTAhociOAdyaCxzg/s320/harvest%20%205%20nov22.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p>The conventional vegetable plot has been yielding some harvest although it has now massively slowed down. </p><p>The circle gardens are a new experiment on the adjacent plot. This is my home work after attending Krishna Mackenzie's Permaculture workshop at Auroville in April . </p><p>Permaculture - shortened term to denote permanent agirculture aims to keep the human effort and intervention minimal and let nature take its course. </p><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-DY-zg8Wfb9rB3r5MT9f0Qk4EBvq14hLqWzv8YsQbvJs6EDMr0YE4w1TqnIf1c5zPqsmv-bK1HJzZdFfaTPKFmPaGvdxB9b3C39jHtoNVVELJd03lzSmN-5lW4MjYW1gci5nLUD-FueFx_uCyeggJCefHryb1gsdC9fYalEOMQ4urc4SbLQ/s4032/IMG_9039.HEIC" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-DY-zg8Wfb9rB3r5MT9f0Qk4EBvq14hLqWzv8YsQbvJs6EDMr0YE4w1TqnIf1c5zPqsmv-bK1HJzZdFfaTPKFmPaGvdxB9b3C39jHtoNVVELJd03lzSmN-5lW4MjYW1gci5nLUD-FueFx_uCyeggJCefHryb1gsdC9fYalEOMQ4urc4SbLQ/s320/IMG_9039.HEIC" width="320" /></a></div><p>Out there we do not till the land and do not plant 'Hybrid' variety of seeds that do not regenrate. </p><p>Anything that is planted would either thrive, survive or die. If this does survive, and manges to thrive then the next generation of the seeds would automatically propogate and effortlessly yield in the next season. </p><p>That is how agriculture was supposed to be. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk2jc4CSad91ttT0yIuFngxrZs7R-Mnj8fdHSeQkKo3ljLwNYR67u5P9Dwij-l4IBLX1YsHRCM8wVjOroqNh8wmAlcY-hYJd-aYxbe0iNRUpxZLWezUUoysrxDLlwj8z3rC0BoC2x_TOEPj2ouWk4R0J4sHQxQ57jQvUofm4m0v3JsAcN1GA/s4032/IMG-9020.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk2jc4CSad91ttT0yIuFngxrZs7R-Mnj8fdHSeQkKo3ljLwNYR67u5P9Dwij-l4IBLX1YsHRCM8wVjOroqNh8wmAlcY-hYJd-aYxbe0iNRUpxZLWezUUoysrxDLlwj8z3rC0BoC2x_TOEPj2ouWk4R0J4sHQxQ57jQvUofm4m0v3JsAcN1GA/s320/IMG-9020.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p>But our need for high and predictable yields, good and consistent looking fruits and vegetables and pest resistant varieities, we let 'Hybrid' varieties rule our lives. </p><p>Hybrid varieites are great. Althought when you consume them you would rarely know that the seeds in them are all infertile. That is why even if you throw a tomato or a pumpkin out into the soil they do not germinate. </p><p>That is when you can tell between the 'Native' variety and the 'Hybrid' varieties. </p><p>99% of the food we eat are all 'Hybird' varieties. </p><p>Thr world is fast losing the diversity the varieties of fruits and vegetables that we get to consume. </p><p>Here is small effort towards seed sovereignity and to give space for the native variety of food crops. </p><p>For now my fingers are crossed. Let us watch the permanculture vs conventional plots as they metamorphise through the seasons. </p><p><br /></p><p>Here are the six circle gardens as part of the permaculture. </p><p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgarckncnx_hqbPQR7ivRnVnDmHW30oiFXdqD0P8SkMe6sUJAmi4fH4JImzYoSe7teLg-ZdoPBETyVAKpCG78NEBLAMHuA-Fk6ZgIVsF8TDVFdzqLpffF5j5LiTOJ6F0XS1k_iMYk4aUFuMtMF1H7Il3FhTJRxhrx3G1iNer7Cm6Mu5iGBdVQ/s4032/IMG-0203.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgarckncnx_hqbPQR7ivRnVnDmHW30oiFXdqD0P8SkMe6sUJAmi4fH4JImzYoSe7teLg-ZdoPBETyVAKpCG78NEBLAMHuA-Fk6ZgIVsF8TDVFdzqLpffF5j5LiTOJ6F0XS1k_iMYk4aUFuMtMF1H7Il3FhTJRxhrx3G1iNer7Cm6Mu5iGBdVQ/s320/IMG-0203.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU5vpygxa5YsNcr-FAP039ssduZsyGjagBB1W96SWcn9LyjccpvnH1-nmyJmxTk8gdKjOK-LESRIU1fRTDNNwdfPdpP8biVYbf9xVh5mzFgO2V-AEbUqY_MHDpVvbjamDRJQi8GI6eWh61LF7gwalZCYLzhgbXm1ZbA6RAUb3sLXr-OX2NoQ/s4032/IMG-0204.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU5vpygxa5YsNcr-FAP039ssduZsyGjagBB1W96SWcn9LyjccpvnH1-nmyJmxTk8gdKjOK-LESRIU1fRTDNNwdfPdpP8biVYbf9xVh5mzFgO2V-AEbUqY_MHDpVvbjamDRJQi8GI6eWh61LF7gwalZCYLzhgbXm1ZbA6RAUb3sLXr-OX2NoQ/s320/IMG-0204.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p>Jayanthi Gopalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04377793298308663704noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7103454.post-17028043302601071482022-11-05T09:49:00.005-07:002022-11-05T09:53:26.875-07:00Being gender neutral <p> Being gender neutral ... </p><p><br /></p><p>I always associated the term Batter to 'idli' and 'dosa'.</p><p>The other day I was watching an interview where Sachin would constantly repeat the term 'Batter'. </p><p>I put it down to bad english although this was not the Sachin from the 1990's but a very mature, well heeled, sightly middle aged but the usual baby faced Sachin talking about how he and Rahul Dravid foxed bowler Chris Cairns with some of their shrewd and rather funny antics while Rahul was at the crease and Sachin at the other end at a match in Mohali. </p><p>Interesting piece of story telling that one. And a must watch. </p><p>That is when I learnt Batter is the new gender netural term since the gentlemen's game has now caught on with the ladies as well. Although with the ladies' version the fanfare and bankrolling is nowhere near to what the gentlemen's version of IPL commands. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/YrSifghslg0" width="320" youtube-src-id="YrSifghslg0"></iframe></div><br /><p><br /></p><p>Talking of gender neutral terminology, here is one one such place - the play arena 9 badminton place in whitefield that clearly struggled between </p><p>'to be gender neutral' or 'not to be gender neutral'.</p><p>But they managed to get to the point. </p><p><br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB_dAyopafi3ZpPXyo4FgG08JO2ieOZmT6taWC44tfbG9cTiL5T56vkaXrHEOeQZkCQ9-3XltlvK9WZKXgPYh7mzfQYrU_S5T7OCV0BH94cvZrBkDclmvQKNwNl3r_DaLJvEcjrnm7cnE2Vsspv_o5Qj6t2mVze1sregbw7ykLr2f3t4ILuw/s4032/gender%20neutral.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB_dAyopafi3ZpPXyo4FgG08JO2ieOZmT6taWC44tfbG9cTiL5T56vkaXrHEOeQZkCQ9-3XltlvK9WZKXgPYh7mzfQYrU_S5T7OCV0BH94cvZrBkDclmvQKNwNl3r_DaLJvEcjrnm7cnE2Vsspv_o5Qj6t2mVze1sregbw7ykLr2f3t4ILuw/s320/gender%20neutral.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br /> You cannot be always be gender neutral ... <p></p>Jayanthi Gopalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04377793298308663704noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7103454.post-35082162499979961232022-10-05T03:27:00.008-07:002022-11-10T08:53:54.403-08:00Ootta from Namma Thotta - new beginnings <p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Ootta from Namma Thotta ( food from our garden)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIg5T6tCRBrm1_OY5C8WWfrquTKiSbLMwCjYxCHU1ZY7vpSnXCqXrNfcobIRUl34Ab2OMHfTs8fMmEYCq0iDJxeQeRr7JZ0K_LA4h-dW2XOsSsSSvVnSq8ZnOjIaa6UmaVWPKWm0Bg9njAgH1g1wIkt8-cNVHaQ5oiQY3FKDMDxb0BTPPKuw/s4032/IMG_9883.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="611" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIg5T6tCRBrm1_OY5C8WWfrquTKiSbLMwCjYxCHU1ZY7vpSnXCqXrNfcobIRUl34Ab2OMHfTs8fMmEYCq0iDJxeQeRr7JZ0K_LA4h-dW2XOsSsSSvVnSq8ZnOjIaa6UmaVWPKWm0Bg9njAgH1g1wIkt8-cNVHaQ5oiQY3FKDMDxb0BTPPKuw/w458-h611/IMG_9883.HEIC" width="458" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">July 2022 </div></div><div><span style="text-align: center;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="text-align: center;">It was a lovely morning and the Road to Khajisonenahalli was lit up with the bright morning sun as I drove back from the farm .</span><br /></div><div><span style="text-align: center;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="text-align: center;">On that early morning drive from Bangalore to Chennai, I looked forward to rejunevante the vegetable patch that eluded me through the 2-3 COVID filled years in Chennai. </span><br /><br /><span style="text-align: center;">Harish was kind enough to take care of the plot while I would still be serving my notice period and then return to Bangalore. </span></div><div><span style="text-align: center;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="text-align: center;">Everything seemed perfect for the new beginnings. </span><br /><br /></div><span style="text-align: center;">On the way back on the NH47 Alexa aided the driving mood and blared Subramania Bharati's 'Kaani Nilam vendum' perhaps more than 100 times by several different musicians until the city traffic hit us out a put a stop to the mood. </span> <br /><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="text-align: center;">That was indeed a memorable drive filled with the promises of the new beginning. </span></div><div><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div></blockquote><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/NRKaFB4AKlc" width="320" youtube-src-id="NRKaFB4AKlc"></iframe></div><br /><p></p><p>Here is the blogpost by Raja Thatha from where I have picked up the lyrics and its English translation.</p><p><a href="http://translationsofsomesongsofcarnticmusic.blogspot.com/2011/10/kani-nilam-vendum-parashakthi.html" target="_blank">http://translationsofsomesongsofcarnticmusic.blogspot.com/2011/10/kani-nilam-vendum-parashakthi.html</a></p><h3 class="post-title entry-title" itemprop="name" style="background-color: #fff9ee; color: #222222; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, "Palatino Linotype", Palatino, serif; font-size: 24px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0.75em 0px 0px; position: relative;">Kani nilam Vendum, Parashakthi</h3><div class="post-header" style="background-color: #fff9ee; color: #222222; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, "Palatino Linotype", Palatino, serif; font-size: 12.6px; line-height: 1.6; margin: 0px 0px 1.5em;"><div class="post-header-line-1"></div></div><div class="post-body entry-content" id="post-body-4376379575058180052" itemprop="description articleBody" style="background-color: #fff9ee; color: #222222; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, "Palatino Linotype", Palatino, serif; font-size: 15.4px; line-height: 1.4; position: relative; width: 570px;">Kani nilam Vendum, Parashakthi<br /><br />By<br />Mahakavi subramanya Bharathiyar<br /><br />Translated by<br />P.R.Ramachander<br /><br />Ragam Ragamalika<br />Thalam Aadhi/Thisra<br /><br />1.Kani nilam vendum –Parashakthi, Kani nilam vendum-angu,<br />Thoonil azhagiyathai –nan madangal thuyya nirathinathai –antha,<br />Kani nilathidaye –Or maligai katti thara vendum-angu,<br />Keniyarigile thennai maram keethu milaneerum,<br /><br />2.Pathu pannirandu thennamaram pakkathile venum –nalla,<br />Muthu chuddar pole –nilavoli munbu vara venum –angu,<br />Kathum kuyil osai –chathe vandhu kaadhir pada vendum-enthan,<br />Chitham magizhnthidave – nanarya ila thendral vara venum<br /><br />3.Pattu kalanthidave –ange oru pathini pen venum-yengal,<br />Kootu kaliyinile -kavithaigal kondu thara venum-Andha,<br />Kattu veliyinile –Amma, ninthan kavalura venum –enthan,<br />Pattu thirathale –ivvayathai palithida venum.<br /><br />English translation<br /><br />1.I need a small piece of land , Oh divine mother ,A small piece of land, and there,<br />In the midst of that small piece of land you should build me a house with,<br />Four pretty pillars and several floors and there near the small pond,<br />Cocunut tree leafs should shine in small plants.<br /><br />2.Near ten or twelve coconut trees , moon light should come<br />Like a shining pearl and there the soft song of the nightingales,<br />Should come and fall in my ears to make mind happy,<br />Good light breeze should blow to make me further happy.<br /><br />3.To mix music there , there should be a virtuous wife there,<br />and in our play together , you should bring and give poems,<br />And in that forest expanse, Oh mother you should provide guard,<br />And by the great knowledge of music , you should look after this world.<div style="clear: both;"></div></div><div class="post-footer" style="background-color: #eee9dd; border-bottom: 1px solid rgb(238, 238, 238); color: #666555; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, "Palatino Linotype", Palatino, serif; font-size: 12.6px; line-height: 1.6; margin: 20px -2px 0px; padding: 5px 10px;"></div><p> For all his progressive outlook about 'Pudumai Penn' which one must say Bharathi was way ahead of his time, the 21st century feminists would not quite agree with his request for 'paththini penn vendum'. </p><p>Never mind, I guess we are all shaped by the social norms of our times and thatpoor man lived and died, povery stricken and unappreciated in a different century. We have to give it to him, he was far ahead of his times and was navigating a far denser patriarchal set-up a 100 years ago. </p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="text-align: center;">While singing along, I compromised by substituting gender neutral lyrics instead of 'Paththini penn vendum' and sang along loudly and happily while cruising the NH47. </span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="text-align: center;">Once cannot help but be little intrigued and humbled by that last line of the song, that says '<i>Amma nindru kavalura vendum'. </i></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="text-align: center;">Reflecting back I guess we all need thanks the guards that helped us survive the past and need to be guarded and blessed in the future to be 'looked after in this world' . </span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfFPAZIR9eSKWUtTWYRaDjt1r9KubFps3DHylTw5t4AofBM0spq31XUBHy6VUoJm6lUIjXpmvHjzhVBz6TLQ4Cq_0ewt1LrTpXiArxKhlkCOs3ABeSRPKwhjMy8wlXpAHc62kne26qht8XwpSxZ_HHZ2spUU3Mv7fmhtBL-XQgLe_IQbXtkA/s4032/IMG_9881.HEIC" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfFPAZIR9eSKWUtTWYRaDjt1r9KubFps3DHylTw5t4AofBM0spq31XUBHy6VUoJm6lUIjXpmvHjzhVBz6TLQ4Cq_0ewt1LrTpXiArxKhlkCOs3ABeSRPKwhjMy8wlXpAHc62kne26qht8XwpSxZ_HHZ2spUU3Mv7fmhtBL-XQgLe_IQbXtkA/w150-h200/IMG_9881.HEIC" width="150" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>Here's to new beginnings with the blessings and hope of being looked after by the forces of nature ... seen, unseen, foreseen and unforeseen. <br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtZhyXZncueau0dCSK5fXU85N7GpzOzl-W-VulHALTYHsQFJmY55jDYgKujg8-8QbRrn0KvkIgSyRXMvr-62pSpUZ-9XsRCP5h9rIfdE3LDry7-_EY9eoRI4ISSaRpWlKL_nx5ZxowrbT2y1g3xqSCds3fpY1gEJwqyZ1SROujPsJ8ArUZIw/s4032/IMG_9880.HEIC" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtZhyXZncueau0dCSK5fXU85N7GpzOzl-W-VulHALTYHsQFJmY55jDYgKujg8-8QbRrn0KvkIgSyRXMvr-62pSpUZ-9XsRCP5h9rIfdE3LDry7-_EY9eoRI4ISSaRpWlKL_nx5ZxowrbT2y1g3xqSCds3fpY1gEJwqyZ1SROujPsJ8ArUZIw/w150-h200/IMG_9880.HEIC" width="150" /></a></div></div></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggi4-BG3VkMK7WXZC0A9t73hSweBvdZ13ZdkrENNS_D495tpk3iXks6uUW57oLR44rtCkmcYLw-G6kMRDnlyvqO38_nVg_0JSN6ZWkbGGyJ9UuX0OMSsIbVRcrI-dWNrOIxzMMHCvEsNm4xDoYNeAcDIMQ9QQLgiNMvBB5yPJc30FsM-BUYg/s4032/IMG_9164.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggi4-BG3VkMK7WXZC0A9t73hSweBvdZ13ZdkrENNS_D495tpk3iXks6uUW57oLR44rtCkmcYLw-G6kMRDnlyvqO38_nVg_0JSN6ZWkbGGyJ9UuX0OMSsIbVRcrI-dWNrOIxzMMHCvEsNm4xDoYNeAcDIMQ9QQLgiNMvBB5yPJc30FsM-BUYg/w474-h320/IMG_9164.HEIC" width="474" /></a></div><br /> <p></p></div>Jayanthi Gopalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04377793298308663704noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7103454.post-24466173590495434002020-11-10T08:32:00.000-08:002020-11-10T08:32:27.885-08:00Daily mobile musings : The Post box<p> That quaint red box at the end of the street with a flap that said next clearance by 5:30 pm or whatever.</p><p>How faithfully they were delivered ...carrying messages of love and longing...of loss and hope... of news good and bad...</p><p>The cream coloured postcards and the blue coloured inland letters that filled up even at the flaps...</p><p>And for those wishing to write longer epistles there was the envelope again cream in colour with a brownish Ashok chakra embossed there. </p><p>And they came affixed with the postal stamps...</p><p>And because there were stamps there were stamp collectors...</p><p>Pictured at the back yard of a dilapidated post office this morning...</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsdWX17dN4GbrdiRnzExnQf7Fs7qYPIIlmO_LKM3ws156If3bzbaiMh8opj9FoKLYTtQGFB52iMrESEZ_eNHKgWV_Qd7653iRplJhip97YbPTHu7RiijAyOETUG9TqgyUdlZtI/s4032/IMG_5650.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsdWX17dN4GbrdiRnzExnQf7Fs7qYPIIlmO_LKM3ws156If3bzbaiMh8opj9FoKLYTtQGFB52iMrESEZ_eNHKgWV_Qd7653iRplJhip97YbPTHu7RiijAyOETUG9TqgyUdlZtI/w300-h400/IMG_5650.HEIC" width="300" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Jayanthi Gopalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04377793298308663704noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7103454.post-79927555935762182632020-11-07T02:20:00.000-08:002020-11-07T02:20:01.850-08:00Spotting the silver lining behind the clouds<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnmACi0PbnrRY4X1zEazq-eR_4llGGmzZjCsU7DVG8CV67ptjNQXHI4lQEj5Fq_MsnB8LBdG1bbmhUJl7ufJJ6h3EF5JZOdcLdf6f35hB7vrQKfeXmzTNxWpsNp3U-QW5nqiOc/s4032/IMG_5578.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnmACi0PbnrRY4X1zEazq-eR_4llGGmzZjCsU7DVG8CV67ptjNQXHI4lQEj5Fq_MsnB8LBdG1bbmhUJl7ufJJ6h3EF5JZOdcLdf6f35hB7vrQKfeXmzTNxWpsNp3U-QW5nqiOc/s320/IMG_5578.HEIC" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPOjJqLseFDh8P48MPKeI70eeXoftnR0yK9w6dk9Z-In-8hUC51gIDDIsAUo4qDJdlo6fJ3V-753XoYvQhlsPzTv6nIPvpznr5BRkbDGapHmTH8VWd0z3ty_5NySF9UFxOV46J/s4032/IMG_5583.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPOjJqLseFDh8P48MPKeI70eeXoftnR0yK9w6dk9Z-In-8hUC51gIDDIsAUo4qDJdlo6fJ3V-753XoYvQhlsPzTv6nIPvpznr5BRkbDGapHmTH8VWd0z3ty_5NySF9UFxOV46J/s320/IMG_5583.HEIC" /></a></div>The world is looking forward to the light at the end of this long tunnel called 2020... <p></p><p>Here I was., Spotting the silver lining behind the clouds...</p><p>It promises to be a day with rain and thunderstorm.</p><p>Atleast , says the weatherman. </p><p>Being watchful of the weather forecast is because<br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVYWxE7fswEEHIOQO0aWBrx8UD6CJR55lhfiiQidjL8IPHFsTAi9j_LQI2wPbARJ57n8uuvJUNlO4TEDqSliNvufB30gyhwLywgc_tPmoZ-PjsWmTr_z45AqnKqawx7lvvg5LY/s4032/IMG_5302.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVYWxE7fswEEHIOQO0aWBrx8UD6CJR55lhfiiQidjL8IPHFsTAi9j_LQI2wPbARJ57n8uuvJUNlO4TEDqSliNvufB30gyhwLywgc_tPmoZ-PjsWmTr_z45AqnKqawx7lvvg5LY/s320/IMG_5302.HEIC" /></a></div><br /> the terrace farmer is making some new beginnings <p></p><p>This was almost 10 days ago...</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3NUCYDLzJioNLb-rGDzcxF-ID50F4PZzEIFtD1LyVD2DBZepgnx9O0Jl5o4c4_6cmWrURiyDb2gttXw4hsY_dOs-DSM82ajL5e3T2H8DF9b4cwXfUwDP91EzQXodzjtOpG5mE/s4032/IMG_5311.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3NUCYDLzJioNLb-rGDzcxF-ID50F4PZzEIFtD1LyVD2DBZepgnx9O0Jl5o4c4_6cmWrURiyDb2gttXw4hsY_dOs-DSM82ajL5e3T2H8DF9b4cwXfUwDP91EzQXodzjtOpG5mE/s320/IMG_5311.HEIC" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8W2x2nxv3BH3YDrCu8vMGYlb3EI2ZhcI87DzCYZwN0bIfptjmEtF3njWOgaslRCpGxyvHx6EOdmOPTj6tCZfDS_MZuyeKOGs6YRwY1iCmIpRhtzjbwgqWA33JECUoOvCLNCUC/s4032/IMG_5309.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8W2x2nxv3BH3YDrCu8vMGYlb3EI2ZhcI87DzCYZwN0bIfptjmEtF3njWOgaslRCpGxyvHx6EOdmOPTj6tCZfDS_MZuyeKOGs6YRwY1iCmIpRhtzjbwgqWA33JECUoOvCLNCUC/s320/IMG_5309.HEIC" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: right;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizIyh3pa3g-_gh34MrsSTQmYR23KGahy1tVS0faX83zce-gnRADeYlJLd86Cms7AV5dybBsQwn2oFuRot9MazhrlbXBLDWGlhbzirpVKHsyozSMCqw14G2iirMRfdlD8iNAcdB/s4032/IMG_5307.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizIyh3pa3g-_gh34MrsSTQmYR23KGahy1tVS0faX83zce-gnRADeYlJLd86Cms7AV5dybBsQwn2oFuRot9MazhrlbXBLDWGlhbzirpVKHsyozSMCqw14G2iirMRfdlD8iNAcdB/s320/IMG_5307.HEIC" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: right;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: right;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: right;">Seed of snake gourd</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: right;"> bitter gourd </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: right;">bottle gourd and ridge gourd. Soaked and sown with a lot of love and care</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: right;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: right;"> </div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrCgCgKAaHnaBIckd874z1q0GOuuhw1oSVC3lrZGuDE07GOFjVmZ_JU7TxqHSOC0QqD1cYcI2a4Thyphenhyphen-zaDvxTzLm-LJaDNybdNBWYuPWb8T6bhl8ZmJjVCqJwJloXXpoaR6n4m/s4032/IMG_5306.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrCgCgKAaHnaBIckd874z1q0GOuuhw1oSVC3lrZGuDE07GOFjVmZ_JU7TxqHSOC0QqD1cYcI2a4Thyphenhyphen-zaDvxTzLm-LJaDNybdNBWYuPWb8T6bhl8ZmJjVCqJwJloXXpoaR6n4m/s320/IMG_5306.HEIC" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkrk4R9JX4b1MI4KkpXzYBef2wZD_xMe3eRMV7EUOENX7wV8HjqVf8eM5wDVNQcR-xhpPNqcVD6crbZ35-RoeHn6n2vHD9rPRBYsgwYfAFeF5WY3-iXEtGfFu-839HcAmeiNLx/s4032/IMG_5305.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkrk4R9JX4b1MI4KkpXzYBef2wZD_xMe3eRMV7EUOENX7wV8HjqVf8eM5wDVNQcR-xhpPNqcVD6crbZ35-RoeHn6n2vHD9rPRBYsgwYfAFeF5WY3-iXEtGfFu-839HcAmeiNLx/s320/IMG_5305.HEIC" /></a></div><div><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJA_YO7yuMQl3icnGNc-uHhVoZiV-KvoChduXJJedW2bwx55gwFyQECePrSozUdnKhGFqrrvlM-Iakib9HhG8-AWFJm0imr4RAZhDzbx_xL9GkUdhCD9vq4xR2o1tQuBVK1BUT/s4032/IMG_5304.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJA_YO7yuMQl3icnGNc-uHhVoZiV-KvoChduXJJedW2bwx55gwFyQECePrSozUdnKhGFqrrvlM-Iakib9HhG8-AWFJm0imr4RAZhDzbx_xL9GkUdhCD9vq4xR2o1tQuBVK1BUT/s320/IMG_5304.HEIC" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: right;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Join me on this journey to see them grow. </div><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /> <p></p>Jayanthi Gopalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04377793298308663704noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7103454.post-13531442241648905612020-07-19T02:22:00.003-07:002020-07-19T02:22:47.955-07:00TIRUNELVELI IRRUTTU KADAI HALWA <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">It is a Sunday and
everyone in Tirunelveli knows that ‘<i>Iruttu kadai</i>’ Halwa is closed on
Sundays.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If you are a visitor to the
town, you will have to wait if you want to taste their original fare. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">But other shops claiming
to sell the original ‘<i>Iruttu Kadai</i>’ halwa are sprung across all over the town
and even online.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And their claims are
not entirely spurious.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When the original
‘<i>Iruttu kadai</i>’ Halwa is open for business, they stock up knowing very well that
the customers that visit the Nellai town on Sundays would not be disappointed. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">There is also the claim
that the ‘Master’ (i.e. Chef) that ‘<i>Iruttu Kadai</i>’ halwa employs also runs this
as a side hustle and that is the reason you get the original Iruttu kadai halwa
even if you do not buy it from <i>Iruttu kadai</i>. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEht5nnv2jkGWyeC10Lu7cziaHSquw5GJ9xEDo9LcBKldCej40CO9HImuPfDUFtg8rmk7H8spjEJ-mnKsJ514UZv5TfuxqYd-ZPSTEvG2IauDXucW1-sdIh7bj8xFaUTs-6RD3GK/s1600/IMG_20190311_182246.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEht5nnv2jkGWyeC10Lu7cziaHSquw5GJ9xEDo9LcBKldCej40CO9HImuPfDUFtg8rmk7H8spjEJ-mnKsJ514UZv5TfuxqYd-ZPSTEvG2IauDXucW1-sdIh7bj8xFaUTs-6RD3GK/s320/IMG_20190311_182246.jpg" width="240" /></a><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The name ‘<i>Iruttu kada</i>i’
in itself isn’t very appealing as any brand marketing professional will tell
you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Literally translated, in English it means the
<i>dark shop</i>. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">And that is what it was,
up until the late 1950’s, a small dark room, almost like a hole in the wall opposite
to that imposing and ancient Nellaiappar temple. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">That is until
electricity came and they installed a couple of small bulb lights, to dispel the
darkness. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Bijli Singh, a
Rajasthani sweet maker established this Halwa shop in the 1940s <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The word got around and
the unique taste of the Halwa from the dimly lit shop opposite the temple was
unmatched with any other. The recipe was no secret. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqMiPGxyxNPaKROlhcuhwmIJkxkkUVjmlx4eXd9jFoGEU1iGykPv-IfeQMw-Dme12PDttCJORvNUMvNy74ThBoaoullHqUJ0Nn87LNBHcITnCa4CUSqCYFks3asiamblWHdVH2/s1600/IMG_20190312_143936.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="729" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqMiPGxyxNPaKROlhcuhwmIJkxkkUVjmlx4eXd9jFoGEU1iGykPv-IfeQMw-Dme12PDttCJORvNUMvNy74ThBoaoullHqUJ0Nn87LNBHcITnCa4CUSqCYFks3asiamblWHdVH2/s320/IMG_20190312_143936.JPG" width="145" /></a><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">In fact, even today you can
google it at try and attempt to make it yourself. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Some attribute its
unique taste to the water from <i>Thamarabarani</i> river that flows across
Tirunelveli. Others claim that it is their method.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The hand pound and extracted wheat grain milk. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Apparently the halwa is
made from the milk taken out of well soaked wheat grains, and you can feel the
change of taste even if the soaking and extracting of the wheat milk is done
hastily. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">There are others who
attribute this unmatched and unique taste to the stirring of the halwa as it is
getting prepared in the huge pans. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>While other halwa shops, owing to bulk
production have, over the years given up the manual stirring and have used
machinery to stir huge quantities of halwa stock, Iruttu kadai continues to do
it the old-fashioned manual way.</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">That explains why they
are able to produce only a limited stock each day and why they get sold out
much before the sun sets.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">It is perhaps the
dedication and devotion to quality and their stubborn refusal to fall for
profits that they could make if they expanded their operations, shows up in the
unique and unmatched taste of their halwa. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG_P1FN6bW8WzBZov03UC9K0NOoroMoHm7hsoVw_YuS98cOj1hnzw-JB6gUB-lt6o-Xc1_13IUvbETUakfl-Xi7nM8W8jvXSV0gUdCxZxxnTek7o5s3LCycts435Xf0pOQbcZE/s1600/IMG_20190311_181711.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG_P1FN6bW8WzBZov03UC9K0NOoroMoHm7hsoVw_YuS98cOj1hnzw-JB6gUB-lt6o-Xc1_13IUvbETUakfl-Xi7nM8W8jvXSV0gUdCxZxxnTek7o5s3LCycts435Xf0pOQbcZE/s320/IMG_20190311_181711.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">There is usually a queue
almost an hour before the shop opens in the evening at 5.00 pm.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A super-efficient set of men dole out half
kgs packs of Iruttu kadai halwa pre-packed in trace paper and banana leaf while
a male member possibly from the third or fourth generation of the family
handles the cash. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You could buy
multiples of a five-hundred-gram packet or buy a small quantity rolled out to
you in a small banana leaf for ten rupees to indulge right then and there. Most
customers, do both. Buy a few packets to take home for near and dear ones and
also a couple of small ones for them the yield to the temptation right over
there. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Local families visiting
the Nellaiappar temple usually make it a point to stop by and relish a small
quantity of a ten rupee per banana leaf halwa before heading out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Surrounding the original
Iruttu kadai halwa shop are many shops claiming to sell original Tirunelveli
halwa.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yet the original shop is unfazed
by competition. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">There is always a queue
and you count yourself lucky if you manage to buy some of the stuff while the
stocks last.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They close the shop once the
stock is over.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">They are like that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Old fashioned and utterly unperturbed about competition, market share and lost opportunity to heap profits considering the huge popularity of their local product. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">When you put that sweet and
slightly warm ‘<i>Iruttu kadai</i>’ halwa it meets your taste buds and slowly melts in
your mouth. As you relish the taste, the feeling of pure ecstasy then travels
along right down and up until it stirs your soul.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">That is when you
instinctively understand and pray that they remain stubbornly old fashioned
like that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br /><br />
*********************<br />
Post script :<br />
<br />
Sometimes you regret ... deeply regret to have missed out things in life...<br />
<br />
Publishing that post on Iruttu Kadai Halwa was one of them. Written alomost an year earlier ... it went into heap of draft posts in this blog ... blame it on the blogger's block.<br />
<br />
And then the lockdown happened.<br />
And this hit headlines of our local newspaper<br />
<br />
<a href="https://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/videos/city/chennai/tamil-nadu-iruttu-kadai-halwa-shop-owner-hari-singh-commits-suicide-after-testing-positive-for-covid/videoshow/76626897.cms" target="_blank">https://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/videos/city/chennai/tamil-nadu-iruttu-kadai-halwa-shop-owner-hari-singh-commits-suicide-after-testing-positive-for-covid/videoshow/76626897.cms</a><br />
<br />
The 70 year old owner of Iruttu kadai halwa, Hari singh, son of the original founder Bijili Singh and grandson of Krishna Singh kills himself in Tirunelveli because he tests Covid positive.<br />
<br />
OMG ... I scroll down google photos and show it to my family ... I have been there ... I know ...<br />
I fumble, gathering my thoughts and recollecting the image of Hari Sigh doing brisk business that evening, that i did not have the heart to talk to him in that busy hour when his cash collection was ringing and halwa packets were disappearing.<br />
The taste of that warm ball of halwa wrapped in banana leaf for ten rupees and selling like hot halwas at the stroke of 5.00 p.m. It lingers in my mind but chokes my throat ... <br />
<br />
OMG ... I can feel the loss ...of a good soul ... of undying trust ... of uncompromising quality ... that brand that was built not just with ingredients but with those human qualities that so many other businesses have compromised in their quest to grow big and reap profits. Hopefully the legacy will carry on and will never be compromised. That is what 'Iruttu kadai Halwa' stands for.<br />
<br />
RIP Hari Singh.<br />
<br />
Thank you for getting me to publish this long forgotten post ... written much before the tragedy and the lock down blues.<br />
<br />
******** <br />
<br /></div>
Jayanthi Gopalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04377793298308663704noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7103454.post-70660060182046767772019-10-26T00:12:00.000-07:002019-10-26T00:12:08.683-07:00Lessons in Humility at the Golden temple <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">To call it a structure
symbolizing classic minimalism would be an oxymoron.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY1ORSFpyx6kxUE62rI15GsR9A5x__TnlZtXUR2urhxVdzMyMiZtBtGfFihQFvsWH_Fptxw_SJQH78x0sIQa0pfhph7ojutN4sweleePLF9DwNlo-TtbFdADeERhy9XsySVjEx/s1600/DSC_0858.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1201" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY1ORSFpyx6kxUE62rI15GsR9A5x__TnlZtXUR2urhxVdzMyMiZtBtGfFihQFvsWH_Fptxw_SJQH78x0sIQa0pfhph7ojutN4sweleePLF9DwNlo-TtbFdADeERhy9XsySVjEx/s400/DSC_0858.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The Harmandir Sahib or
the Golden temple of Amritsar is not only a photographer’s delight but also a
place that can evoke feelings of serenity, awe and humility in you. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">As you approach the main
square of the city which is the main thoroughfare and the<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>entrance to the Golden Temple, you realize
that the chaos, haphazardness and lack of aesthetics that signify ancient and crowded
parts of most Indian cities including Amritsar, suddenly disappear and a new
world emerges. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The side alleyways
skirting the main precincts of Golden temple are a complete contrast to the
main square. They, like any other ancient part of Indian cities are crowded and
crassly commercialized. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Pink brick architecture
and marble sculptures adorn the commercial outlets that lead to the Golden
temple.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The signage of the shops, big
and small are all uniform and aesthetically displayed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There are no bill boards to ruin the aesthetics
of the heritage site. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">(However, inorder to
accommodate the need for modern commercial and consumeristic demands, at the
center of the square has a huge electronic board, making it look like Times
square in NY or Piccadilly circus in London.)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">On the main approach
road to Harmandir Sahib are sculptures of Sikh men and women performing Bhangra
and Giddha which is a selfie hotspot among tourists and pilgrims alike. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Eateries advertising ‘<i>Asli</i>
Amritsari fare’ are dotted all along the way. The small hole in the wall shops
selling Punjabi <i>papad</i> and <i>wariyan</i>, the <i>Punjabi Lassi</i>, Amritsari
<i>kulfi</i> and the <i>Kulcha</i> outlets tempt you and leave you salivating. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Desperate salesmen from shops
selling dress materials and intricately embroidered ‘<i>Phulkari dupatttas</i>’
beckon you to have a look. Just as you are getting seduced and stop by to show
a faint interest in window shopping, a stray <i>rickshawallah</i> appears with
his rickshaw and whispers into your ears.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>‘Ten rupees to the <i>Phulkari</i> wholesale market, just ten minutes
from here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Wanna take a ride?’ <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">It is not easy, not to
be overwhelmed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">But the sound of the soulful
<i>kirtan</i> from the shrine beckons you via the loudspeakers and reminds you
about the main purpose of the visit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Hundreds of volunteers
strive to keep the premises in and around the Golden Temple spotlessly clean.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At the free shoe depositing counter, well
dressed and well to do men and women pick up your foot wear and deposit them in
shoe racks before handing you a metal token acknowledging the receipt of your
foot wear. The service is quick and efficient. Their humility and devotion strike
you, the first thing before you enter the Gurudwara. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">As you enter the vast
area that forms the outer sanctum of the golden temple, the clear golden reflection
of the main sanctum sanctorum or the Darbar Sahib around the pool of water
surrounding it makes you want to pull out your camera and capture the picture
to preserve the memory for eternity.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYbmmPNnr8g29jdx5FvY_AmjqcXtPaVk3YNpgaRYF4bBgplBuiWgT1x0oIDNW9X6kXnnwTGw8-vlPMXQDkq76cs7fwrlgEgKzRfoPTHMDxfYP3bNGPKbtSDQBkqjvneKF04Qan/s1600/IMG_20190923_194615.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYbmmPNnr8g29jdx5FvY_AmjqcXtPaVk3YNpgaRYF4bBgplBuiWgT1x0oIDNW9X6kXnnwTGw8-vlPMXQDkq76cs7fwrlgEgKzRfoPTHMDxfYP3bNGPKbtSDQBkqjvneKF04Qan/s640/IMG_20190923_194615.jpg" width="640" /></a><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">It would be much later
that you realize, that there would be plenty of such opportunities, because the
structure and the architecture of golden temple is very alluring and photogenic
that one would just click away to glory from every angle and every direction at
every available opportunity both in the broad daylight and well lit nights. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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</div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The entrance to the main
shrine is where you cross the pool of water. At any given time, early morning
to late evening, devotees’ throng to the shrine from all over the world. There
is always a queue at the entrance to the main shrine.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Displays of the lyrics
and the translation of the <i>kirtan</i> being sung inside the shrine are
displayed on the TV screens in Punjabi and English that flash all over the
shrine.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It renders an ambience that
makes you want to sing along or at least hum the tune even if you are not
familiar with the music.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Pious devotees
who are regulars and are familiar with the Guru Granth sahib, sing along while
waiting in the queue that is very well regulated. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">As you enter the inner precincts
of the Golden temple the walls covered with marble have intricate works of floral
motifs that strike you at the eye level.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Above the eye level of course rises the huge walls and domes that are plated
with gold on the inside as well as on the outside, thus giving Sri Harmandir
Sahib its English name ‘the Golden temple’. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs3v-Sy3J9R-4QhAGm9dFm1ts7WEySlS9o3bF1VETpmOQdKPc1HeQgn66Y42Jex3WeikGBdFs8WC1yrgeeFq0v2p3agYFTGGTv_8nWFZI7BfeCQJEKhyphenhyphen5boHjbAXebQ7jue2CG/s1600/IMG_20190923_203636.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 18px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs3v-Sy3J9R-4QhAGm9dFm1ts7WEySlS9o3bF1VETpmOQdKPc1HeQgn66Y42Jex3WeikGBdFs8WC1yrgeeFq0v2p3agYFTGGTv_8nWFZI7BfeCQJEKhyphenhyphen5boHjbAXebQ7jue2CG/s400/IMG_20190923_203636.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The Gurudwara, Harmandir
Sahib more than 400 years old is built around a man-made water body, (Sarovar)
and was completed by Guru Ram Das in 1577. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Guru Arjan, the fifth
Guru of the Sikhs requested Sai Mina Mir, a Muslim Pir of Lahore, to lay its
foundation stone in 1589. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">However, unlike many
other 400-year-old structures, the Golden temple looks new, clean and
resplendent even after all these years. Thanks to the tireless efforts of the
devotees who clean and polish every nook and corner with devotion everyday of
the year. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">One of the experiences
that one should not miss while visiting the Golden Temple is the ‘Langar’seva.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Helped by hundreds of
volunteers, the world’s largest community Kitchen at the Golden temple serves free
food to more than 75,000 - 100,000 pilgrims everyday of the year.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Two halls each with a seating capacity of
5,000 are used alternatingly to serve the steady stream of pilgrims and
visitors to the Golden temple. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">While the food is
prepared by permanent staff (<i>sevadaars</i>), 90% of the staff who help in
its preparations are all volunteers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One
can volunteer at the Harmandir sahib to do <i>seva</i> for an hour, a day or
even a week. In keeping with the tenets of Sikhism, ‘<i>Seva</i>’ or volunteering
helps one to keep one’s ego in check and the humility that it emanates sends
across a sense of peace and satisfaction among the devotees. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">At the entrance of the ‘<i>Langar’</i>
hall, the volunteers seamlessly hand out plates, spoons and cups, serve daal,
rice, vegetables and kheer for the people sitting in a line (pangat) for the
langar. In the Kitchen other volunteers are busy rolling out the dough to make <i>roti.
</i>There is also a huge machine donated by a Lebanese devotee for making rotis
which doles out about 23000 <i>Rotis</i> in an hour that is used on important
occasions or when the crowd is large.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>On
other days women volunteers manually make the Rotis, while others clean and
chop huge quantities of vegetables. The stronger ones stir the food that is
being cooked in huge vessels. A stream of volunteers collect the used plates,
empty them, soak them in water and wash them, all in an assembly line
procedure.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The steel utensils used
by the pilgrims go through five rounds of cleaning and another round of drying
before they are used by another set of pilgrims at the Langar.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjeFkVdLfoE-ih2piVJSSm0KyEfADbqb8e80WMc98X4QT21ldreYL1nfI9MQS-Rsw4QCZJaLXmrhcnI6MHq1726FREuA09blp89SGUPns-hlUMHF4gXYB1Pq20g5cp1MCH1L8j/s1600/DSC_0866.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjeFkVdLfoE-ih2piVJSSm0KyEfADbqb8e80WMc98X4QT21ldreYL1nfI9MQS-Rsw4QCZJaLXmrhcnI6MHq1726FREuA09blp89SGUPns-hlUMHF4gXYB1Pq20g5cp1MCH1L8j/s400/DSC_0866.JPG" width="225" /></a><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">One never need to worry
about hygiene and cleanliness at the Gurudwara. Even the round and shallow water
dispensing cups (yes not glasses or tumblers) go through several rounds of
cleaning using ash powder by volunteers before the next round of water is
served in them. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The service is quick and
seamless at the Langar. The food is always tasty although simple and
healthy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In order to keep up with the
dietary requirements of all pilgrims the food served at the Gurudwara has
always been vegetarian. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">This was before veganism
caught up as a way of life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Vegans beware. Food at
the Langar is laden with ghee (clarified butter) even if you skip the kheer (rice
and milk pudding) that his served at the Langar. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">A visit to Golden Temple
is incomplete if you haven’t had the Kada Prashad. As you emerge out of the
Darbar Sahib, or the main sanctorum where the Guru Granth Sahib is kept,
volunteers dole out a handful of hot brownish colored sweet that is oozing out with
ghee (clarified butter). <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">As you put it in your
mouth and it melts, you delight at the mildly sweet and smooth texture of the
simple sweet that is an offering from the Gurudwara. Many a devotee cannot
resist a second helping.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">For those who cannot resist
the temptation to a second helping, a counter that opens from the outside of the
entrance also serves a handful of warm Kada Prashad.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As the sweet melts into your mouth, you
realize that warm ghee is dripping down from your hands. Just when you want to reach
out for that tissue or towel to wipe your hands, you observe others around you.
You realize that they are wiping their entire hands with the molten ghee. Not
wanting to take the trouble of reaching out to a tissue paper or a handkerchief
you emulate them by wiping your hands too. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Whoa!!!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>slightly warm clarified butter or shudh desi
ghee is nature’s own moisturizer and an effective lip balm to soothe dry lips.
Your skin automatically softens and happily soaks in the moisture, much like
your soul that soaks in and seamlessly dissolves in that pious and serene atmosphere
of the Gurudwara. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">(Try making and eating Kada
Prashad at home, uh … it does not quite give out the same feeling.) <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">You have had your fill
of the Langar seva, have clicked enough and more photographs from all possible
angles of the stunning Golden temple and yes… you have possibly had a third or
fourth helping of the Kada Prashad. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4RwM-P-u1Iy2FdUN4s7fkwqsWqJNdTH42Jc2TOeQj7wZIlixYG6Tmy0r_WhzNdjK1UWJZfpchyphenhyphenI4PSPGfCGHz77EEYH95lJrOXtBYmFRLGaLEUXzZGuOlmaaB6O2VZ17UdIZL/s1600/IMG_20190924_101546.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 18px; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4RwM-P-u1Iy2FdUN4s7fkwqsWqJNdTH42Jc2TOeQj7wZIlixYG6Tmy0r_WhzNdjK1UWJZfpchyphenhyphenI4PSPGfCGHz77EEYH95lJrOXtBYmFRLGaLEUXzZGuOlmaaB6O2VZ17UdIZL/s400/IMG_20190924_101546.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">It is now time to exit. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">As you walk out of the
Golden temple, you observe that people old and young, rich and poor, but most
importantly from all religions and nationalities visit and are welcomed into
the Gurudwara. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">When you walk back to
the free shoe counter and reach out to hand over your token, once again a prompt
service awaits you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A Sikh volunteer
takes your token and brings out your shoes and hands it over to you. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">As I sit on the nearby bench
to put on my shoes, I observe something and there are goosebumps all over my
body. Yes, that mud strewn, dust laden, dirty Nike shoes of mine, weather beaten
and weary from a recent week long trek in the Himalayas had been thoroughly cleaned
possibly while I was clicking away pictures or having my second helping of the
Kada Prashad. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">That kind of selfless
service by a faceless stranger moves you. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p><br /></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnvuOzVj7_5WUhU_mii-1hoA4JH-whksz4_bbgt4LL9qnPBvsY08F8kT6pewXaPPvryGtHMay_PvK1v0y1Sf1RFPwpntG-ykbNq6XB87v_IckWzZTbjiPwAypz1eFj_-UZFkXt/s1600/IMG_20190924_101139.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 18px; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnvuOzVj7_5WUhU_mii-1hoA4JH-whksz4_bbgt4LL9qnPBvsY08F8kT6pewXaPPvryGtHMay_PvK1v0y1Sf1RFPwpntG-ykbNq6XB87v_IckWzZTbjiPwAypz1eFj_-UZFkXt/s400/IMG_20190924_101139.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
Jayanthi Gopalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04377793298308663704noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7103454.post-1922785807329259382019-10-17T03:47:00.001-07:002019-10-17T07:15:20.506-07:00Hurt and Healing rituals @ the Attari Wagah Border <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">More than seven decades
after that bloody and Chaotic Partition that left the landscape and more
importantly the mindscape of the Indian subcontinent torn into pieces one would
assume the fate has been sealed and people have healed. By now the survivors of
that horrific partition have either died a natural death or are now too old
that time should have healed them.</span></div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg609aa0tOwLUoYqz8IWS526Vy5kc59l0wtW5eY14iATfKr1CGw5WaN2RahjrAtjwnxSk0DG05UJVs9P56HzNcDdutPpV-R4ZCGtDZQqBAR_IkfuddBlT7oil2nxRBV2buEZop4/s1600/india+pakistan+border.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1112" data-original-width="1600" height="222" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg609aa0tOwLUoYqz8IWS526Vy5kc59l0wtW5eY14iATfKr1CGw5WaN2RahjrAtjwnxSk0DG05UJVs9P56HzNcDdutPpV-R4ZCGtDZQqBAR_IkfuddBlT7oil2nxRBV2buEZop4/s320/india+pakistan+border.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo courtesy : Google free images</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<o:p></o:p><br />
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">In 1947, before the
British left India, they added the fuel and fanned the fire for carving out a separate
state of Islam from the Indian Subcontinent. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Sir Radcliffe who was
commissioned to redraw the map of Hindustan and Pakistan, that separated the
two countries apparently had no idea of the complex diversity, demography and
the dependence that people living out there across faith and religion had. Nor
did he understand the kinship ties that spread far and wide across the sub-continent
and the havoc that his carelessly drawn out border lines would create.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGrIHZJvbfUe06uz1jDRTlW7zxglrTCzmGL9loIMSVBFUt2_UODhpZGm_CzVUsUAQ-lIknl-oWdaadYAgurBPkgmWv6F2o5S0Hiu6V32eXTm-PAnmPStIRZk1IFAhvJJjK-P8h/s1600/partition-of-bengal-3-og.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="360" data-original-width="700" height="205" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGrIHZJvbfUe06uz1jDRTlW7zxglrTCzmGL9loIMSVBFUt2_UODhpZGm_CzVUsUAQ-lIknl-oWdaadYAgurBPkgmWv6F2o5S0Hiu6V32eXTm-PAnmPStIRZk1IFAhvJJjK-P8h/s400/partition-of-bengal-3-og.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo courtesy : Google free images</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Plenty has been written
about the havoc that followed and the horrors of partition. Rich aristocrats
and well settled businessmen were forced to flee from the yet to be official border
line that would find them wrongly settled in the Islamic state of Pakistan.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Hindus and Sikhs from Lahore and other part
of the yet to be christened Islamic state of Pakistan fled along with their
families carrying with them their jewelry, children and whatever possessions
they could hoard up within a few days.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Many perished physically
and mentally in this brutal act of sudden uprooting and fleeing what they
rightfully considered their homeland. Riots, starvation, ill health and mental trauma
struck others in refugee camps as they tried gather up the shattered pieces of
their lives and tried to settle in places alien to them all over India. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKEN4R5pGt-rhe991zkJAkPmLArZ_Kq0mNHeMt4J2Mlw-bMzYrpGoRyCMi5Y95TuBURwu7NLJLdLivXGlWsS_g2bK_ibekoivBctsgtphjanWPahnps6smhLwZrwlEUEEdN1Bq/s1600/partition-refugees-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="961" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKEN4R5pGt-rhe991zkJAkPmLArZ_Kq0mNHeMt4J2Mlw-bMzYrpGoRyCMi5Y95TuBURwu7NLJLdLivXGlWsS_g2bK_ibekoivBctsgtphjanWPahnps6smhLwZrwlEUEEdN1Bq/s400/partition-refugees-1.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo courtesy : Google free images </td></tr>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Millions were men were
slaughtered and women raped in Broad daylight.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Those who survived came begging to seek refuge in the houses of
relatives and friends in what would be a Hindu state to be called Hindustan. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">To be fair, the Muslims
in India particularly those living in the adjoining states of Punjab, Jammu and
Kashmir and Delhi also found themselves caught in the chaos and were at the
receiving end of the anger and mob violence that the partition caused. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">The Secular India’s Muslim
population was too spread out and vast to relocate to Pakistan.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The anger that brewed as an aftermath gave
rise to riots and mindless violence that polarized the people based on their
faiths despite India’s proclamation as a secular sovereign nation that accepted
people of all faiths and religions. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">They say time heals
everything.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A generation passed by. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">The dispossessed Sikhs,
Sindhis and Punjabis who fled from Pakistan, started all over again on the Indian
side literally from the scratch and owing to their enterprising attitude and
hard work, did well for themselves, economically and socially in India.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Books were written on the
travails of these people during partition.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Movies were made and Television soap operas kept the memories and wounds
of the past alive and reminded us of what could have been and what did and did
not happen during the course of history.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">More than seven decades hence,
the survivors of partitions have passed on. The survivors are too old and have
moved on in life.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">But the fracture lines
between Hindustan and Pakistan still run so deep that decades of diplomatic
effort between two nations to make peace have seen little progress.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">***<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">I have boarded a train
and am on my way to Amritsar eager to visit the Golden temple and witness the
retreat ceremony and the Attari- Wagah border where every day the security
forces from both the countries, simultaneously down their flag at the time of
sunset in the 10 meters of ‘no man’s land’ that separates the Indian border
from the Pakistani border. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOPk8owDMZRAoeCq-VR-4nPtuZxteTuYhyphenhyphenVMx6SSyV9xC95F3gu4uGjHJbA4fKgnKvhWWSJLetOLvWpWLQHKEAsIVRtYAFla-ETV4AxmwC92uV74omIlUOd_IX42y5Ifiq1QAl/s1600/IMG_20190923_130615.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOPk8owDMZRAoeCq-VR-4nPtuZxteTuYhyphenhyphenVMx6SSyV9xC95F3gu4uGjHJbA4fKgnKvhWWSJLetOLvWpWLQHKEAsIVRtYAFla-ETV4AxmwC92uV74omIlUOd_IX42y5Ifiq1QAl/s320/IMG_20190923_130615.jpg" width="240" /></a><span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">It is a ritual that has
been carried out every day ever since the two countries promised to make peace
and strengthen their diplomatic ties.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">At the Ludhiana junction as most of my co-passengers alight, two old Punjabi men board the train and are seated opposite to me. They are on their way to Amritsar. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One of them wears a Turban and I
am guessing he is a Sikh. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">The other one is bald
and is chewing perhaps <i>Ghutka</i> or <i>Paan</i>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">We strike
conversation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<o:p></o:p><br />
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">The old man chewing <i>Ghutka</i>
stares at me (below the shoulders) repeatedly and I start to feel
uncomfortable.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A little while later I
realize that I am wearing a badge that reads Valley of flowers, Uttarakhand,
that I brought as a souvenir when I was there. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He is prying his eyes to read what is written
there possibly owing to his poor eyesight. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">I am relieved when I realize
that his stares do not arise of out a sense of perversion but out of plain
curiosity in a funny ‘country bumkin way’.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">I remove my badge and
hand it over to him to have a closer look.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">I tell them about my
trek from the lower Himalayas, in the recent past.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">First of all, they are
intrigued that I am a solo traveler and surprised that I would come all the way
to visit Golden temple (since I am evidently not Sikh by religion) and would
want to visit the Attari-Wagah border. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">They repeatedly warn me
to be careful with my belongings and not to trust anyone in Amritsar.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">According to them people
from the hills are far more straightforward than the ones in these parts of the
plains. Amritsar according to them is abound with cheats and crooks and a woman
like me could easily be taken for a ride if I were not careful.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">The man once again
stares at me, and this time I realize he is looking at the gold chain I am wearing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He tells me all this display of bling may be
the norm down south, from where I come. Out here I would run a risk of having
my chain snatched if I went about flaunting it. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">My urbane upbringing finds
that remark a little crude and judgmental, but I adjust to the culture shock,
take it in my stride and promise to be careful while out on those treacherous streets
of Punjab. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">They tell me they have
never visited the Attari-Wagah border despite having lived close by all their
lives. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Whenever they have had
visitors at their home, they would take them to see the real border. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">The real border according
to them is not the Attari-Wagah border. It is the one that runs miles and miles
across their fields separated by electrified barbed wires where no Border
security forces patrol, day in and day out trotting their guns. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXA4ybM6Z0wte2KEA8HsE4uZLQbO5RZMiXRo7-O6pdyVpeNJNaje5zmI7kLELo06tTYG_WbxAvjnEdRo09LN8FFAVbojABgGY0W6IBR7G_IO6_-AhVUJFqIyliKvIS1mO-kM0f/s1600/India+pakistan+border+fields.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="350" data-original-width="670" height="206" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXA4ybM6Z0wte2KEA8HsE4uZLQbO5RZMiXRo7-O6pdyVpeNJNaje5zmI7kLELo06tTYG_WbxAvjnEdRo09LN8FFAVbojABgGY0W6IBR7G_IO6_-AhVUJFqIyliKvIS1mO-kM0f/s400/India+pakistan+border+fields.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The India- pakistan border fence - courtesy Google free images</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">The electrified barbed
wires were erected and the fences strengthened a couple of decades ago when the
diplomatic situation between the two countries got a little too tense, what
with India openly proclaiming its nuclear warfare capability, with the
underground nuclear blasts in Pokhran. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">The old man in the
Turban reminisces how in his youth he and his friends would walk over to the
open fields by crossing over the broken fence wires (which was not electrified
in those days) to take a dump or a leak on the other side.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Disbelieving what he
said, I Ask him if they would not risk getting caught by the patrolling Border
security forces on either side or more importantly would that not have been a
dangerous breach to national security?</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">It is too big a
geographical terrain for a few thousand men from the Armed forces to patrol on
both sides.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>How many soldiers can you
realistically deploy, he asks? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Right from the gulf of Kutch,
the deserts of Rajasthan, the vast Green fields of Punjab on both sides and the
Long stretch of LoC in Kashmir, that is a very long border we share with them. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLY32qHi5Cq9AwWqK57TrscvA4uUhKXIf_s5USduTR9YoRk6G8tuzw1b_0jvjGXLCM3oUPFFDKn4LoIAlus0sI0MMj9Nl4u6FR0iBNpkP5neHrRa1h90d4bSda1raHe6T4UWVb/s1600/Mustard+fields+along+the+india+pakistan+border.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="683" data-original-width="1024" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLY32qHi5Cq9AwWqK57TrscvA4uUhKXIf_s5USduTR9YoRk6G8tuzw1b_0jvjGXLCM3oUPFFDKn4LoIAlus0sI0MMj9Nl4u6FR0iBNpkP5neHrRa1h90d4bSda1raHe6T4UWVb/s400/Mustard+fields+along+the+india+pakistan+border.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mustard fields along India- Pakistan border in Punjab <br />
Courtesy : Google free ianges</td></tr>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">In his youth, it was
really easy to cross the border, he says sometimes to just take a dump or pee
out there. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Why else would one go
there, the bald man laughs and asks and then spits his <i>Paan</i> out from the
train window.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">I sense some hurt pride
and sarcasm glowing in him as he laughs and tells me this.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">I laugh along. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">***<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieZNOpsGMga_Ivi_fx9UAfxtZbEbAD9R3u0xoVt_rcvW8mDoeO9WZomE3lQ-AZrn-JoHnzYHsXct3knqa3HT58-542K0q_MAXFLi_zgryZpor2fGrakKC_-1zq_nlucq1Uvb8j/s1600/IMG_20190924_165211.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieZNOpsGMga_Ivi_fx9UAfxtZbEbAD9R3u0xoVt_rcvW8mDoeO9WZomE3lQ-AZrn-JoHnzYHsXct3knqa3HT58-542K0q_MAXFLi_zgryZpor2fGrakKC_-1zq_nlucq1Uvb8j/s320/IMG_20190924_165211.jpg" width="240" /></a><span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">With the city of Lahore,
a mere 22 kms from the Attari-Wagah border, citizens of both countries gather
at the huge stadium like structure that separates the border of India and
Pakistan.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Between the two heavily
guarded gates is a space about ten meters wide called the no Man’s land where on
two Flag poles at either end of the gate the Indian and Pakistan national flags
are hoisted every day from dawn to dusk.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">At the end of the day around the time sun sets on the Pakistan side, the soldiers of the two countries march past and display their Military histrionics before unhoisting their respective flags.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXcpS3hbwelamh3gwe2B8RUDI3JFvmS7uILb1Bnuh-EY8rq7yKQeLfptXJEpNoBQg7gYXoNltNGNhLddG6fCkYgcsil4Cb0-M3x78AD7AFEKClsjj4nFtA4-iQk6glp7HzP85v/s1600/IMG_20190924_165721.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXcpS3hbwelamh3gwe2B8RUDI3JFvmS7uILb1Bnuh-EY8rq7yKQeLfptXJEpNoBQg7gYXoNltNGNhLddG6fCkYgcsil4Cb0-M3x78AD7AFEKClsjj4nFtA4-iQk6glp7HzP85v/s320/IMG_20190924_165721.jpg" width="240" /></a><span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj73KOjTQD7ECuGL8iVrX0MZdZRMz6erubokloniMLrbVatS6lARgPfh3XL5eq23YZnBSRgL-P1OcoSu8I1mGIqHmxU4SQ3jGjrBFs0yRTk-WOAluus_M_W4qjXzuAYneAaEfhS/s1600/IMG_20190924_165625.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; display: inline !important; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj73KOjTQD7ECuGL8iVrX0MZdZRMz6erubokloniMLrbVatS6lARgPfh3XL5eq23YZnBSRgL-P1OcoSu8I1mGIqHmxU4SQ3jGjrBFs0yRTk-WOAluus_M_W4qjXzuAYneAaEfhS/s320/IMG_20190924_165625.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">On the Indian side a very enthusiastic Border security force (BSF) Soldier is holding the microphone and welcoming the people who are arriving in by buses and cars to witness the ceremony. </span><br />
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After the security check where you are frisked and bags are checked by some friendly BSF staff you enter a stadium like structure that opens up on the other side to a similar stadium like structure with an Arch that says Pakistan and a portrait of Mohammed Ali Jinnah prominently displayed out there.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4eusL1z0OY_Qwaj2H4PcoAbCuPCBxdLgvktujisDVcm32FZkrTqcB98mSWWyVtZtShV-pSdBJR77FhqbxF6QG5TeiKvq1QPvwD05R9cqm328fU3nHywoKqiLcL37-BGnPFVyP/s1600/IMG_20190924_222653.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1384" data-original-width="1600" height="552" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4eusL1z0OY_Qwaj2H4PcoAbCuPCBxdLgvktujisDVcm32FZkrTqcB98mSWWyVtZtShV-pSdBJR77FhqbxF6QG5TeiKvq1QPvwD05R9cqm328fU3nHywoKqiLcL37-BGnPFVyP/s640/IMG_20190924_222653.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvpeVEfuqSMQWARM1YIbIb31GtqmWzH459m_NFzyvBd6qM480VkBoWF-ldkCe7sXomG8gluyXFt10Q0M3hkWXf_ovZ8701xZo0WRTmBBfI-ajViOjHZkU-AB7GRb3qojsvn1nh/s1600/DSC_0880.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvpeVEfuqSMQWARM1YIbIb31GtqmWzH459m_NFzyvBd6qM480VkBoWF-ldkCe7sXomG8gluyXFt10Q0M3hkWXf_ovZ8701xZo0WRTmBBfI-ajViOjHZkU-AB7GRb3qojsvn1nh/s400/DSC_0880.JPG" width="225" /></a><span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">As the crowd goes about
to grab the best available seats in the stadium on the India side, one notices
that there are fewer people on the other side. Understandably so, because India
is a huge and a populous country and a stadium with seating capacity of 25,000
may be just about sufficient on some days. But today was just another normal
day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">The microphone is at the
hands of the BSF soldier and he is whipping up the Patriotic sentiments of the
crowd gathered to witness the retreat ceremony.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Not very far away, a Pakistani soldier dressed in Dark green uniform is
similarly whipping up the patriotic fervor on the audience gathered on the
Pakistani side.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The women covered with
Chador (head scarf) are seated on one side of the stadium and the men in
Shalwar kameez on the other side of the stadium.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>On the center are some seats reserved for
dignitaries who have come visiting along with their family members.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2nB7zWnfTjJiQInSA97l_XUYc-qe8ewFiyn8-_P6O1BXXyvkM1j-VwPNYsWFw_jHtAtD3IG3jT4r1Xu8MKfzwMrZ8RE5TBDf4Tr7zHoGJvPBZ03ckP4zm7SNPY372BriOho6i/s1600/IMG_20190924_174121.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2nB7zWnfTjJiQInSA97l_XUYc-qe8ewFiyn8-_P6O1BXXyvkM1j-VwPNYsWFw_jHtAtD3IG3jT4r1Xu8MKfzwMrZ8RE5TBDf4Tr7zHoGJvPBZ03ckP4zm7SNPY372BriOho6i/s640/IMG_20190924_174121.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">On the India side, there
are special (read VIP seats) reserved for foreigners (read White skinned people)
in the front rows.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The courteous Female BSF
soldiers (I guess a female solder is still a soldier and not soldieress or
something like that) escort them and treat them with utmost care and respect. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">The entire atmosphere is
electrified with Patriotic fervor on either side.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">The BSF have called out
for women who would want take the tri colour flag and run up to the Gate that
forms the India – Pakistan border.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">The hot afternoon sun
has now mellowed down and is now a glowing Golden orange in colour.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmbJEluqUZesXlADtyFZk9qFKKUILQwcrgJx7IsxzSOx9PSassewk1NyEPQaLK3MEVHqw8-iS6qXYrAvIKBdz2zVnlJ78jYUTpPJC4KIR5jENVPB4if6TXy2UPEoIcxQ9yjPfn/s1600/video_20190924_170739.mp4" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="720" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmbJEluqUZesXlADtyFZk9qFKKUILQwcrgJx7IsxzSOx9PSassewk1NyEPQaLK3MEVHqw8-iS6qXYrAvIKBdz2zVnlJ78jYUTpPJC4KIR5jENVPB4if6TXy2UPEoIcxQ9yjPfn/s320/video_20190924_170739.mp4" width="180" /></a><span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">There are Patriotic
songs being played out by the two countries on the loudspeakers. It is so loud
that you cannot hear anything from the Pakistani side unless you strain your
ears to hear and look out for what is happening out there. The Pakistan side of
the stadium is also reverberating with patriotic songs and the audience is seen
punching their fists in the air in keeping with the mood of the time and
place.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Soon on the Indian side,
the BSF soldier on the microphone calls out for women in the audience who would
like to dance.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A great cheer emerges
from all over the stadium as hundreds of women, young, middle aged and some old
walk towards the road and near the gate as patriotic Bollywood songs burst out
of the loudspeaker.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>While the Indian
women are going wild and are dancing in gay abandon to Shah Rukh khan’s song
from ‘Swades’ and beckoning the audience on the other side, you would not see
the same action emulating from the Pakistan side.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The women out there are pretty restrained
seated on one side of the stadium possibly reserved for women. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK_P0UnvyrA6TETHl10nFK5iOdm7nbwuJHf_BZA6MUSRCDe8IZKBqS6xTsnsElyNm5sI1Q9o8DQmNlznuqym5LbJheil4qbvQ3Wh5_26i9U-xyPdls9qjBUWnd1hzasiEzhEOW/s1600/IMG_20190924_171328.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK_P0UnvyrA6TETHl10nFK5iOdm7nbwuJHf_BZA6MUSRCDe8IZKBqS6xTsnsElyNm5sI1Q9o8DQmNlznuqym5LbJheil4qbvQ3Wh5_26i9U-xyPdls9qjBUWnd1hzasiEzhEOW/s320/IMG_20190924_171328.jpg" width="240" /></a><span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Every other action is
emulated by the soldiers on either side with equal pomp and pride.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If there are two BSF women soldiers marching
past on the Indian side, there are two on the Pakistan side as well.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If there are four soldiers with huge lustrous
well curved moustache, dressed in dark green uniform from the Pakistan side
marching ahead to salute their flag, there are four soldiers with huge lustrous
moustache soldiers dressed in khaki on the Indian side. They curl up their
moustaches and show angry and proud faces to each other as they march past with
their legs going high up and reaching up their foreheads. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Well, to put it mildly it
is a lot of well-rehearsed display of drama and histrionics on both sides. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p><br /></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-QAO2gFks53aZPW8tXkfIFkMwSmauctZAQhOYVzx4KuCL4j2S66FA-8b1-J-lhSEIQcYcKVjrUqrSv7L6Vhgai4oGv9FAxnqIBSWjW-IghtpHqb4MnaNO84VeM1qEb8HgHnPi/s1600/DSC_0908.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-QAO2gFks53aZPW8tXkfIFkMwSmauctZAQhOYVzx4KuCL4j2S66FA-8b1-J-lhSEIQcYcKVjrUqrSv7L6Vhgai4oGv9FAxnqIBSWjW-IghtpHqb4MnaNO84VeM1qEb8HgHnPi/s400/DSC_0908.JPG" width="225" /></a><span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">The border gates are
once again closed as the ceremony comes to an end.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">The audience linger
around and watch and wave to the citizens of the other country from afar while
the soldiers cajole them to vacate the stadium.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 18px;">Soon the sun will set in the west. It sets on the Pakistani side of the border.</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 18px;"> </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 18px;">The Attari border gates from the Indian side and the Wagah Border gates from the Pakistani side are opened and the no man’s land is laid bare where the two flag posts bearing the Indian flag on the right extreme and the Pakistani flag on the left extreme are fluttering in the evening breeze. Citizens of both the countries stand up as a mark of respect while the soldiers in uniform salute their respective flag as it is unhoisted while the sun in setting down.</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 18px;"> </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 18px;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><br /></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">So near, yet so far… <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">So familiar, yet so unfamiliar…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p><br /></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Could our present have
been different if there wasn’t as much animosity, hatred and anger between
us?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Would our history have
been different if the then leaders in 1947 had been more reasonable, or had
thought through the sequence of events before unleashing it on the people and
carving a destiny who effects would linger on for many<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>decades to come?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<br /></div>
Jayanthi Gopalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04377793298308663704noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7103454.post-26446628758353106152019-06-02T09:12:00.000-07:002019-06-02T09:12:19.352-07:00Unusual Occupations - The Reptilian calling<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 200%;">The Reptilian Calling<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">It is
the voice of a grown up man and he is frantically crying out in panic. Even
when the phone is not on a speaker mode, we can hear his frantic panic driven
voice. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Vava Suresh </i>– our host answers
him on his mobile patiently without letting any of that panic get to him. We
are in a car along with <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Vava Suresh </i>and
are being driven to the house of the caller. This is possibly his fifth call in
the last fifteen minutes that <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Vava Suresh
</i>has received. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Apart
from the two of us, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Vava Suresh </i>and
his driver there are seven other co-passengers in our car. We are slightly
uncomfortable, but not because there is no place for us to sit. In fact, it is
very comfortable at the rear seat But because all our other co-passengers are
merrily occupying the boot space in the car.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">The
last one, we picked up from the backyard of a small corner shop where <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Suresh</i> had been summoned. </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">On a
normal day, Suresh could be catching about a dozen snakes ranging from wall
snakes, rat snakes, Russel Vipers, python and even a King Cobra from all over
Kerala when he is summoned by people who have spotted the reptiles in their
backyard or in their wardrobes.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">We
have been with <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Vava Suresh </i>for over
five hours today. Our co-passengers are safely tucked into plastic containers,
poked with holes through a screwdriver and safely closed with a lid. The driver
who incidentally is <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Suresh’s</i>
childhood buddy is now used to this task day in and day out. He pokes a few
holes on the sides of the container to ensure there is breathing space for our
co-passengers and they do not feel claustrophobic. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Our
next call is from a palatial house about 30 kilometers from where we are
currently. Apparently, they had spotted a huge snake in their backyard. It is
well after sunset and there is no sun light to figure out where the snake could
be. Undeterred we are now headed to their place.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"><span id="goog_2114839752"></span><span id="goog_2114839753"></span><br /></span></div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicYTdrV9sMzqfSOBVbInuMBPGIIky3JgbjocOShaWFMj8TLvG_f3lbAhA0JKHi-seOSqlzwuzkhXF_bOs4G8apVXMhwEq8GBEppZu0mIcvHr44fmOTaUGKu1no8mVSVuavvKof/s1600/IMG_20160703_080925150_HDR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicYTdrV9sMzqfSOBVbInuMBPGIIky3JgbjocOShaWFMj8TLvG_f3lbAhA0JKHi-seOSqlzwuzkhXF_bOs4G8apVXMhwEq8GBEppZu0mIcvHr44fmOTaUGKu1no8mVSVuavvKof/s320/IMG_20160703_080925150_HDR.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Vava</span></i><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> picks up his torch
light and clears the way for me to accompany him till a safe distance. Here too
there is a crowd that has gathered to witness their local celebrity in action.
Effortlessly <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Vava</i> uses the torch and
a stick and flashes it on the snake. He tells us after he has had an up and
close look that it is a Python and indeed, it is. When <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Vava</i> deftly pick it up and brings it along to the well-lit front
yard of the house the women in the house shriek out of shock. The men gathered
around are amazed at the sight of a huge python. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">But what he does next comes totally out of the
blue and leaves everyone including me awestruck. He asks for a pen or a small
stick. Someone hands him a pen. With that, he opens the mouth of the python to
show us its fangs. The saliva – transparent yellow in colour is the venom that
it spews out when it goes about killing its prey<a href="https://draft.blogger.com/null" style="mso-comment-date: 20171225T0012; mso-comment-done: yes; mso-comment-reference: I_1;">. </a></span><span class="MsoCommentReference"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 8.0pt; line-height: 200%;"><!--[if !supportAnnotations]--><a class="msocomanchor" href="https://draft.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=7103454#_msocom_1" id="_anchor_1" language="JavaScript" name="_msoanchor_1">[I1]</a><!--[endif]--><span style="mso-special-character: comment;"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">The
wide-open mouth now has saliva dripping over the pen. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Vava</span></i><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"> picks the dripping venomous
saliva and holds it upon his own mouth. About two to three drops fall into his
mouth from the pen and he swallows it. He asks the hosts to give him a glass of
water because he does not want the after taste of the venom to linger on. It is
these small drops of venom that build the immunity in his body to withstand
occasional snakebites. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">There
is a scared little girl who peeps out of the window of the living room to see
all the action. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Vava</i> notices the
little girl, puts the python over his neck, approaches her and strikes a
conversation with her. He asks her which class she studies in, which school she
goes to and what her name was. The little girl has now warmed up to him and
slowly comes out to have a full look at the Python. Unbeknownst to the little
girl we now know that <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Vava</i> is
investing in the mindset of the future generation. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Like
in all our previous places where he would catch the snake in about couple of
minutes and then spend the next fifteen minutes to display his catch to a crowd
from a prominent place where the crowd would gather to see the snake man.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">He is
a celebrity in Kerala, has been featured in many television channels and is a
household name. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgipH-sSCmx1GSiXctyk5g-lQLJhxB_E6pKNcPS_m0Ku7b68tXfL6S3i9NAyxKqJSlrPT2pUni8nNzT2VI4hI7MRQxctX3rqpa5zMSjNKaZH4g60vE-8CW4X19SG_BWZVI7p09w/s1600/selfie+with+vava.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgipH-sSCmx1GSiXctyk5g-lQLJhxB_E6pKNcPS_m0Ku7b68tXfL6S3i9NAyxKqJSlrPT2pUni8nNzT2VI4hI7MRQxctX3rqpa5zMSjNKaZH4g60vE-8CW4X19SG_BWZVI7p09w/s320/selfie+with+vava.jpg" width="240" /></a><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Young
boys take selfies with him, touch the snake, some strike conversation with him
to understand the features and most of all they just want to share their
excitement in the happening of all things. After all, here is a fearless man,
whose bravery every young boy and man would like to emulate. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">In all this <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Vava</i> ensures that the young boys and
girls get comfortable with the reptile and in holding it effortlessly, his
actions speak louder than the words. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">All he wants to convey is that
the snakes and human beings can co-exist together as long as we do not do any
harm to them. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Killing snakes is <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>more often than not an unnecessary cruelty
meted out by human kind out of their own fear and misconceptions. Not all
snakes are venomous and the ones that are, do not look to harm human beings,
unless they are themselves in any form of danger.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">It is
almost ten in the night and the past seven hours of being with the snake
catcher in action seem so surreal to us. Our next call is from a place that is
about 75 kilometers from where we are. It would soon be bedtime for us but <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Vava Suresh </i>and his driver are fresh as
a flower and are raring to go. His driver had resumed his duty this afternoon. Even
by those standards, this is more than a nine hour job for him. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Apparently,
everyday is like that for Vava Suresh, Kerala’s most popular snake catcher. Two
drivers take turns to drive him around, and his job is a 24/7 job for which he
hardly takes any money. Those who can afford give him whatever he can. The snakes
do not look at the economic status of the people in whose house they stray to
take refuge. And so, if it is a poor man’s hut where he has been summoned or
like in this case a small corner shop, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Vava
Suresh </i>would just refuse to take any money. Mostly the rich give him a few
hundred rupees every time he has rescued a snake from their place. We do our
math. The cost of fuel alone would be more than the occasional donations that
he would get from catching the snakes on a 24/7 job. It does not make economic
sense. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">We ask
him how he manages to make ends meet. If he really wanted to, he could quote
his price and people would happily pay to have a snake out from their backyard
or front yard. He never asks for any money and lives on whatever donations come
to him from people in whose houses he has gone and rescued the snakes. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">His
home is filled with pets. Dogs, cats, parakeets and of course snakes co-exist
with each other. The roof is still the old-fashioned one made of dried palm and
coconut fronds. At the entrance verandah is a display of the collection of all
his awards by various associations. Prominent among them is his meeting with
Prince Charles who on his visit to Kerala on a wild life conservation mission
caught up with <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Vava Suresh</i>. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3S-FmfQ6QF666rZQmEWceSee0Y8mG3PIhZyezcTUZhx2hXt0InIvISJ6iDdoj_Uw8FB-DNOLCra-cJpEYjHAAjBofgL_IgETUn39KBJ9yMERsZgGpzSFKu-Nm2pUKflVtYS_f/s1600/Vava+suresh+with+his+awards.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3S-FmfQ6QF666rZQmEWceSee0Y8mG3PIhZyezcTUZhx2hXt0InIvISJ6iDdoj_Uw8FB-DNOLCra-cJpEYjHAAjBofgL_IgETUn39KBJ9yMERsZgGpzSFKu-Nm2pUKflVtYS_f/s320/Vava+suresh+with+his+awards.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">His
mother dressed in an old cotton lungi and covered over with a white cotton
towel passes by with a bunch of dried wood which she possibly has collected
over the day and smiles at us without an element of curiosity. She is clearly
used to fans, interviewers and visitors constantly dropping by to see her
celebrity son.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">‘<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Vava’</i> in Malayalam, the native language
in Kerala means baby, and a prefix like that does not do justice to <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Suresh’s</i> personality. But that is how
his mother called him when he was young and the name and the prefix stuck. When
he was a small boy of about 9 years, she caught him rearing a cobra in his
room. Petrified, she smacked him hard and ensured that no such thing comes into
the house. At that time, she was oblivious to her son’s calling of rescuing snakes
and other animals. She says with a sense of resignation that while she still
does not approve of what he does for a living, she has now resigned to the fact
that this is what his life would be like. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">He is
rarely at home. Sometimes for days together, he would be traveling at the
behest of frantic callers who would summon him to catch the snake they have
just spotted in their home or backyard. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyII9fgyazH7wPaH8pMOv-Bt-7MwO6TqMlIJwZuz6zcKtZ8poQcY8npjEAxFHggs5qktWGWaVM78_lO7wuptVwH3r3CpAxd5QTppnevUpcU6m8ATn6aM0Hdvl98byWTUyNGrL1/s1600/Cobra+egs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyII9fgyazH7wPaH8pMOv-Bt-7MwO6TqMlIJwZuz6zcKtZ8poQcY8npjEAxFHggs5qktWGWaVM78_lO7wuptVwH3r3CpAxd5QTppnevUpcU6m8ATn6aM0Hdvl98byWTUyNGrL1/s320/Cobra+egs.jpg" width="240" /></a><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Elusive
as he is to his own family members, his sister recalls an incident when once
they frantically called him. There was a panic situation at home. The cobra
eggs that <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Vava Suresh </i>had collected
and stored in the backyard had hatched and the baby cobras were slithering all
over the backyard and into the house. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Vava Suresh </span></i><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">was in
Alleppey, a good four hour drive from <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Sreekaryam</i>
where his family lived. When the call came over his mobile, he in a matter of
factly manner told her that it would take him at least five hours to drive down
after finishing his job over there. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">They
spent a sleepless night in their own house till he came along the next day and
put the baby cobras back to where they would belong. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">Once
every two weeks he would take his collection and release them into the Neyyar forest
reserve area where he has been given permission in the interest of ensuring the
safe survival and procreation of the many species of snakes that he collects
when they are spotted after they stray into the ever-expanding human habitat.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">It is
a fair bit that he does for the preservation of many reptile species that could
otherwise go extinct due to human callousness. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Jayanthi Gopalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04377793298308663704noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7103454.post-70318790912835541622019-05-10T04:43:00.000-07:002019-05-10T04:43:09.714-07:00Idiappam @ Burmah Idiappa Kadai - Madurai <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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In the early 1900’s Ethnic Indians and <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>second generations Burmese Indians made up
about 70% of Burma’s population. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Through
the 1940’s, 50’s and 60’s the military unrest lead to the exodus of Ethnic Indians
from Burma back to India. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Many of Amitav Ghosh’s books have touched upon the rich
Burmese culture and the vast immigrant population that migrated from India
throughout the nineteenth century and made a fortune in Burma.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Those who made it crossed the borders and escaped to India
amidst war, rough terrains, disease, filth and squalor.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Many riches to rags stories have been told
and retold about Indians who lost everything including property, jewellery and
loved ones during the process of fleeing Burma during the Military
insurgency.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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Many of them were enterprising business men and women who,
despite losing everything else did not lose their spirit of enterprise and were
determined to start from the scratch all over again back home. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="color: red;"><o:p> </o:p></span>Padma and Devika’s grandmother was one of those refugees
with an undaunted spirit. She fled Burma in 1960 with children and found her
way to Madurai, the temple town in South India. </div>
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They stayed in what was initially set up as a refugee shelter camp for
those who fled Burma and later transformed to become an up and coming neighbourhood
called the Burma colony. </div>
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In the early
1960’s, after having found the roof above their head, the spirited lady decided
to give the foodies of Madurai a sample of the Burmese cuisine.</div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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She set up a small shack outside the Christian mission
hospital in Madurai, where she made rice noodles with hand pound rice and
served it with a tangy and spicy Burmese chutney. The sweeter version of the
dish came with freshly extracted coconut milk and sugar soaked in the rice
noodles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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The shack sold no other dish, but just idiyappam (rice
noodles) with coconut milk and Burmese chutney, a spicy version made among many other things with seeds of ripened Bittergourd.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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Thus was born the Burmah (Burma with a H) Idiyappa kadai outside the
gates of Christian mission hospital in Madurai. <o:p></o:p></div>
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The word spread about this new Burmese dish and people came
flocking from all over the town to taste the delicacy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And for those of us who thought Idiyappam was
a traditional South Indian breakfast dish, this is a revelation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was an import from Burma in the last 50
years that has found its way into the south Indian cuisine.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Before the 1960’s a traditional Madurai Snack
would be a ‘kuzhi paniyaram’ in its savory and sweet varieties or the Appam
with coconut milk.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></div>
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Idiyappam probably got its name because rice had to be
pounded (pounding in Tamil means idi) and the rice balls boiled and then set
into noodles like structures over a mechanical equipment called Nazhi. It
certainly is a labor-intensive process, but the hard work is worth the effort
for those savoring the delicacy. <o:p></o:p></div>
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As the years passed by the Burmah idiyappam kadai near the
Christian mission hospital in Madurai grew and prospered.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLRpEzzZEZ4PyaZ2kxKI3HP6gzFXszC4KJ6_GHWNxiXNneyyjka4ribRSoLwBfrlr262MJ_OEYvpdfhJl07YPE0YEPIy3hNVuwYfwUUiNAjzk0gJmTOcKANUATjNGMvYJokXXI/s1600/Burma+idiappa+kadai+4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLRpEzzZEZ4PyaZ2kxKI3HP6gzFXszC4KJ6_GHWNxiXNneyyjka4ribRSoLwBfrlr262MJ_OEYvpdfhJl07YPE0YEPIy3hNVuwYfwUUiNAjzk0gJmTOcKANUATjNGMvYJokXXI/s400/Burma+idiappa+kadai+4.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
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Today there are two branches of the same Burmah Idiyappa
kadai run by Padma and Devika at around the same place where their grandmother
had established the small shack from where she sold her idiyappam and made a
living that put a roof under their head and brought food to the table.</div>
<o:p></o:p><br />
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Burmah Idiappa kadai finds mention in Trip advisor and a
must see / must have place in the street food list for visitors to
Madurai.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">They operate from six in the evening till late until midnight. ( Hence the photos of the shop in night mode) </span></div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></div>
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Despite all the word of mouth publicity and the huge
customer base that the brand has amassed there are absolutely no trappings of
riches, or an aspiration to move up the value chain of fine dining in either of
the sisters. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMlwLKiLSPmy3xPN3L0xGyPh6Q3jZJCT3fE7YhqRjzVnrewSvUY2oBofO4kMSkHa-XlXDJcZvgibbyIG_A4EATtlZ28U8WF4R1-0AKbZ9Q2FJXORejU1_tZPFEgLBrpWbPWWnu/s1600/Burmah++idiappa+kadai.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; display: inline !important; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMlwLKiLSPmy3xPN3L0xGyPh6Q3jZJCT3fE7YhqRjzVnrewSvUY2oBofO4kMSkHa-XlXDJcZvgibbyIG_A4EATtlZ28U8WF4R1-0AKbZ9Q2FJXORejU1_tZPFEgLBrpWbPWWnu/s320/Burmah++idiappa+kadai.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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A Hole in the wall is probably an apt description to
describe their shops. Well lit, neat and clean, their one room shops are
situated on opposite sides of the road.
One adjoining the rear entrance of Christian mission hospital, the gate
which is no longer in use and the other on the opposite side of the road. </div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0j05pNxyI_2YBXYfJutt3F8nYQTx-Kub7aHwkx_hN9E35ObI6-H8SmkkyKuWfNEo3dSFbCQPB6Sh5KfadyLC__OQvFqAM46RtwFMWeZHZoY2cXaKFCfd9apaWB_EQtb34GoM2/s1600/Burma+idiappa+kadai+pic+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0j05pNxyI_2YBXYfJutt3F8nYQTx-Kub7aHwkx_hN9E35ObI6-H8SmkkyKuWfNEo3dSFbCQPB6Sh5KfadyLC__OQvFqAM46RtwFMWeZHZoY2cXaKFCfd9apaWB_EQtb34GoM2/s320/Burma+idiappa+kadai+pic+2.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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Padma and Devika personally supervise and run their respective
eateries that open at 6 pm and close well after midnight at around 1.00
am.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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There is a steady stream of
customers to both the shops. It is more a take away joint than a place to eat.
There are no chairs but Padma offers you a steel plate covered with a banana
leaf where she serves you the Idiyappam, freshly steamed and laid out on a huge
plate that can accommodate about a hundred idiyappams. </div>
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It is covered with a wet
cloth and laid out in the open. Beside the plate is a huge aluminum cooker
where more idiyappams are getting steamed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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While Padma dishes out the takeaway parcels a family member is busy
pressing the rice balls into the nazhi and squeezing the rice noodles out of
them. They would be laid out over a wet cotton cloth and steamed in the large vessel
before being filled out in the huge plate from where the idiyappams get emptied
out, thanks to the steady flow of customers who take home at least a dozen each
along with some Burmese chutney and coconut milk for which they have brought
along a stainless-steel container. The idiyappams are all packed in banana leaf
and covered with newspaper wrappings with a cotton thread that ties it all up
neatly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></div>
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All ecofriendly in the good old traditional style of
takeaway joints. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIoCkOoQK5OrUex7e_T1h7uoHzT5dG75UJGpPduIgUwTVN6mGMFWROfHTAETx7eKjMyEQifER5KXqB7uEdO3OXsVHeZx61xnREO41C6ZxMFmVAl0FZ1sE9tehZiXBX2WILwaMv/s1600/Burma+idiappa+kadai+pic+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIoCkOoQK5OrUex7e_T1h7uoHzT5dG75UJGpPduIgUwTVN6mGMFWROfHTAETx7eKjMyEQifER5KXqB7uEdO3OXsVHeZx61xnREO41C6ZxMFmVAl0FZ1sE9tehZiXBX2WILwaMv/s320/Burma+idiappa+kadai+pic+3.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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All for a pittance, which explains why they sell volumes and
also why they get sold out so quickly. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Health conscious customers prefer the Ragi variety of
idiyappams compared to the rice variety.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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Padma says that off late more of the brown ragi variety gets sold faster
compared to the rice variety <o:p></o:p></div>
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The family owned Branches of Burmah Idiappa kadai have over
the last three generations maintained a non-negotiable standard of quality and
purity in their recipes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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According to them, they are unable to expand because they are skeptical that the quality of their
dish could get diluted and the hygiene factor could get compromised if they
allow people outside the family to run the shops.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></div>
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One of her sons works in the IT Technology Parks in
Bangalore.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Inspired by the demand for
eateries in the newly developing metropolis, they decided to employ and send a
couple of boys from the small town of Madurai to assist her son and run the
shop. </div>
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Padma says it did not work out because the boys found greener pastures in
the big city and they did not want to employ unknown people to do the work as
that would dilute the quality and hygiene that stands for the Burmah idiyappa
kadai brand.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The equipment still lies in
Bangalore, but the shop has since been shut.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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Padma and Devika, the sisters who have set up shop on the
opposite sides of the same road have their own loyal clientele and there is a
mild sense of co-operative competition between them. On a busy evening when one
runs out of stock, it is not unusual to buy or borrow from the other’s shop in
order to serve their loyal customers takeaway needs. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="mso-no-proof: yes;"><v:shape id="Picture_x0020_4" o:spid="_x0000_i1025" style="height: 164.25pt; mso-wrap-style: square; visibility: visible; width: 219pt;" type="#_x0000_t75">
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They have no aspirations to be a McDonald a pizza hut or for
that matter the Udupi outlets that dot the restaurant segment all over south
India. <o:p></o:p></div>
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A stubborn commitment to quality and hygiene, reasonable
pricing and personal supervision is what they believe is the secret to their
success as an iconic brand in Madurai sought after by backpackers and locals
alike.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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There are many more idiyappam
shops that have sprung up in the town of Madurai in the last couple of decades,
but none pose any competition to them, Padma reckons. </div>
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A very matronly attitude,
pleasant demeanor customer friendly poise that makes anyone warm up to her is
what keeps the loyal customers coming back to her shop for an evening snack or
a healthy late-night dessert.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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Jayanthi Gopalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04377793298308663704noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7103454.post-71252059745083291372019-05-03T07:18:00.000-07:002019-05-03T07:18:33.611-07:00Life on the slow track - Filter Kaapi in Kumbakonam<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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When in search of a perfect filter kaapi that the town of kumbakonam is
famous for, many a localite will direct you to Sri Venkataramana mess which is
where arguably the most authentic filter kaapi is served.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><br />
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrSSrDn5d1kxAWo3EHCECB_x23SLyx80iqttEpa24fUAt_c9I2CxWODinsXyvs6REuZCU-NjEwRETdatFNgQLdElFV_sZ-8sjZ_1KoBLVVxygrgiAcFgyvhAn1_r1XWmRaqLI4/s1600/filter-coffee-triv-rao-wikicommons.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="832" data-original-width="1023" height="260" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrSSrDn5d1kxAWo3EHCECB_x23SLyx80iqttEpa24fUAt_c9I2CxWODinsXyvs6REuZCU-NjEwRETdatFNgQLdElFV_sZ-8sjZ_1KoBLVVxygrgiAcFgyvhAn1_r1XWmRaqLI4/s320/filter-coffee-triv-rao-wikicommons.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></div>
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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If you happen to be on one of those whirlwind weekend Navagraha temple
pilgrimage with no time to spare and the fear of missing out on filter coffee
is gripping you, be forewarned.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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Sri Venkataramana Mess is closed on Sundays. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv2ssiQgoY_sYvez8lmuu99gYWlMoTRxriakVsKM74otRoMWKS-R43gtKvaKsRUoeNFPsXUqkpr00e_0DN_wXOHl_b2-BxbQq13uEKw4CoqN_IzwLMJ7l7DrGxi0asUsa_hMaV/s1600/IMG_20181224_080951.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv2ssiQgoY_sYvez8lmuu99gYWlMoTRxriakVsKM74otRoMWKS-R43gtKvaKsRUoeNFPsXUqkpr00e_0DN_wXOHl_b2-BxbQq13uEKw4CoqN_IzwLMJ7l7DrGxi0asUsa_hMaV/s320/IMG_20181224_080951.jpg" width="320" /></a>It does not matter to them that Sundays could be the day when the
business is at its peak, what with those tourists from the cities coming down
to Kumbakonam.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But Sri Venkataraman Mess
<o:p></o:p><br />
has been in business for a long time now to worry about loss of potential
market share. Instead they are known for their employee friendly policies. </div>
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Legend has it that when their chief Chef who prepares their legendary <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Ulundu Vada</i> was recovering after a long
illness, he was not asked to take on the rigours of relentless work in the
kitchen.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Instead when he resumed work, he
took up a black board and pursued his hobby of sketching.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He began sketching the days menu with
colorful chalk pieces sketching something different everyday.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>During the music season when musicians
congregated in kumbakonam for the Thyagaraja Aradhana he drew a chalk sketch of
the three doyens of Carnatic music : <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Muthuswany Dikshithar, Syama Sastry and Saint
Thyagaraja on the black board along with the special menu for the day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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An intrigued press reporter found this very unique and special and wrote
about it in The Hindu, South India’s staple newspaper best savoured with a
tumbler of Filter kaapi every morning, made to the exacting proportions as
prescribed in Kumbakonam. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Sri Venkatamana mess became an instant hit on the world wide web. Since
then filter coffee fanatics and tourists have toured kumbakonam sometimes
solely in search of that authentic cup of Kumbakonam filter kaapi.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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Sri Venkatramana mess is no fine dining restaurant. If anything it is a
busy no-nonsense eatery where you go for a quick breakfast, lunch or dinner.
The service is quick, usually served on a banana leaf, by efficient,
no-nonsense waiters who have no time for a small talk. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Talking about their signature Filter kaapi, you need to specify that you
are there for the degree kaapi lest you should be disappointed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Because there are two types of coffee served
here. The ordinary coffee and the Degree (Filter) Kaapi. The ordinary coffee is
served in stainless steel tumblers and Dabara.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Whereas the Degree kaapi is served in brass tumbler, deftly placed in a
Dabara. A Brass tumbler holds up the heat longer, while you savour your Vada,
Pongal or Dosai, sub consciously whipping up your taste buds to savour the hot
filter coffee from the Brass tumbler at the very end.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrSSrDn5d1kxAWo3EHCECB_x23SLyx80iqttEpa24fUAt_c9I2CxWODinsXyvs6REuZCU-NjEwRETdatFNgQLdElFV_sZ-8sjZ_1KoBLVVxygrgiAcFgyvhAn1_r1XWmRaqLI4/s1600/filter-coffee-triv-rao-wikicommons.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="832" data-original-width="1023" height="325" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrSSrDn5d1kxAWo3EHCECB_x23SLyx80iqttEpa24fUAt_c9I2CxWODinsXyvs6REuZCU-NjEwRETdatFNgQLdElFV_sZ-8sjZ_1KoBLVVxygrgiAcFgyvhAn1_r1XWmRaqLI4/s400/filter-coffee-triv-rao-wikicommons.jpg" width="400" /></a><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span></div>
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Serving degree coffee in a Brass Dabara Tumbler is a tradition that has
been followed ever since it was instituted says the proprietor of Sri
Venkatramana mess.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The milk and the
coffee decoction that is used to prepare the degree kaapi have an exacting
specification. In the earlier days there was the Pasumpaal (cow’s milk) coffee
club that structured and perfected the taste and recipe of the iconic
kumbakonam degree kaapi. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Fresh cow’s
milk was boiled and added to the Degree kaapi decoction. <o:p></o:p></div>
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There are varying degrees of degree kaapi. To begin with, the roasted
Arabica and Robusta coffee seeds are roasted, coarsely ground and 10% Chicory
powder is added to it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Some say the origin
of the word Degree is a corruption of the Tamil pronunciation of Chicory as
Tikory.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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Anyway let us not digress. Getting back to the point of degree Kaapi,
the freshly ground coffee powder is put into a brass filter and pressed with a
presser. Boiling water is added on top of this simple mechanical device.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You wait for the decoction to drip down from
the filter into a vessel fitted at the bottom of the filter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The first decoction that has dripped down the
coffee filter is called the first degree.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>This one gives the aroma to the degree Kaapi. The second degree is
prepared when more boiling water is poured down the press. It filters down and
drips into a decoction that gives the taste to the degree Kaapi.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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The art of making a perfect filter kaapi is not complete until this
concoction is mixed well by pouring it back and forth using the Dabara (the
South Indian version of a saucer) and the tumbler (the South Indian
version of the cup).<o:p></o:p></div>
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The filter coffee in lesser households and restaurants perhaps use the
3rd degree and 4th degree of decoction as well that drips from the filter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But that is not the case at Sri Venkataramana
mess, says<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>M Balachandran, its current
proprietor.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sri Venkataramana Mess has
existed for more than seventy years now. Panjami Iyer was its original founder
who started something called the pasumpaal (cow’s milk) coffee club (PCC) in
Kumbakonam, then a small sleepy town serving as the satellite town for its
bigger twin Thanjavur. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>With a Cow shed
behind the restaurant where they could milk fresh milk off the cows, the now not
so secret ingredient of degree filter coffee was perfected in this place which
was then called the Lakshmi Vilas hotel. <o:p></o:p></div>
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The rise of Pasteurised milk and non-availability of space in this busy
town has made fresh cow’s milk very rare.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>However Cow’s milk is procured from dairy farms around Kumbakonam that
arrives by 4 am in the morning is now used to prepare the Degree Kaapi at the
Sri Venkataramana’s mess. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Balachandran’s family took over this restaurant in 1983 almost 40 years
since its existence. Before the Balachandran family bought over Sri
Venkataramana mess, it was owned by Aiyyasamy Iyer and before him was Narayana
Iyer, who actually named this place as Sri Venkataramana Mess.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They source their coffee powder from Mohan
Coffee works who prepare the coffee powder with Arabica and Robusta seeds
procured from coffee plantations of Chikmagalur in Karnataka, the state
adjacent to Tamilnadu, not very far away from where the River Kaveri originates
and flows down through Kumbakonam. <o:p></o:p></div>
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The exacting proportions of coffee powder, chicory and milk with which a
degree kaapi is made of permeates the taste buds across many generations of
Tamil Brahmins from Kumbakonam who have later migrated to other parts of India
and the world.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A strong expresso or a
cappuccino freshly brewed<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>from
Starbucks does not come anywhere close to ‘Namma ooru Filter kaapi’ quips a
staunch kumbakonam Tamil brahmin, trying to draw comfort with his morning cup
of coffee at a Starbucks outlet in Central London.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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No wonder someone said … <o:p></o:p></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="color: #2c2f34; font-family: "segoe ui" , sans-serif; font-size: 11.5pt;">Coffee is a beverage,
Kaapi is an emotion. <o:p></o:p></span></i></b></div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
Filter Coffee photo courtesy : <a href="https://img.theculturetrip.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/03/filter-coffee-triv-rao-wikicommons.jpg">https://img.theculturetrip.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/03/filter-coffee-triv-rao-wikicommons.jpg</a></div>
Jayanthi Gopalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04377793298308663704noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7103454.post-14711898225155109842019-04-26T03:42:00.000-07:002019-04-26T03:42:01.048-07:00Life on the slow track - ‘Chaha’ at an Amruttulya<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ8173t-JBfKlHi7mbvX0o4fqoyRY9YHYQoeAHErFi7K_hFGWMpQ8hppEeWRBbOBjekd3kLhdyBO5wBdXK4JQq5Fm_x7G7FQY4NM8U6geaBcSDEyBojewpsOF53_dQmNMPxZWD/s1600/Amruttulya+chaha+brass+vessel.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="212" data-original-width="159" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ8173t-JBfKlHi7mbvX0o4fqoyRY9YHYQoeAHErFi7K_hFGWMpQ8hppEeWRBbOBjekd3kLhdyBO5wBdXK4JQq5Fm_x7G7FQY4NM8U6geaBcSDEyBojewpsOF53_dQmNMPxZWD/s1600/Amruttulya+chaha+brass+vessel.jpg" /></a><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: red;">‘<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Chaha</i>’ at an Amruttulya <o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<span style="color: black; mso-themecolor: text1;">Tulshi baug, in Pune has
been a <i>Waada</i> (neighbourhood) with a recorded history and inhabited since the
1700’s if not earlier. In the earlier centuries it was far from the overcrowded, chaotic, busy market
place that it is today.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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Naro Appaji Khire
Tulshibaugwale (1700-1775), the <i>Subedar</i> of Pune during the Peshwa rule built an
ornately sculpted Ram temple in his sprawling estate which was completed in
1795, in this neighbourhood which would later be known as Tulshibaug. Over the next 200 years civilization would
thrive nurturing trade, arts and culture in what
would later be ascribed as the <i>Puneri </i>culture, from the times of the Peshwas. </div>
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<span style="color: black; mso-themecolor: text1;">In those times the
neighbouring metropolis of Mumbai was still an amalgamation of islands
reclaimed from the sea and its dockyard was yet to become the thriving trade
center that it would become in the following century. It would take a couple of
days via horse drawn carts to traverse the hills and forests of the western
Ghats past the forts to reach the islands of Mumbai.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 19.5pt; margin-bottom: 18.75pt;">
<span style="color: black; mso-themecolor: text1;"><br />It was Pune and not Mumbai that was the
power center from where the Peshwas and the Maratha’s ruled.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The British loved its ‘almost European’
weather which was a great relief from the humidity of the sea shores of
Mumbai’s islands. They set their base in the cantonment area in Pune.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Up until the 1980’s one could spot raspberry
trees perhaps brought in from England and planted and nurtured by the memsahibs who lived in and around what is the 509 - Airforce area in today's Pune.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; mso-themecolor: text1;">In the early 1900s, Pune
was a Marathi heartland with a minority population of Iranis, Parsis and
Gujaratis who migrated to set up small businesses in the city.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>By the middle of the century, after India’s
independence it became the hub of automobile manufacturing industries.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The TELCO now known as Tata Motors set up its
automobile manufacturing plant and gave rise to many other ancillary auto
industries. It was not until the late nineties and early 2000’s that the
information technology industry discovered the potential in Pune and set up
shops housing the back-office operations and software development of companies
based out of the west.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; mso-themecolor: text1;">Until then Marathi was
the predominantly spoken language in Pune. Hindi, arguably the national
language of India was still a foreign language to many Punekars. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; mso-themecolor: text1;">Despite the influx of
migrants into the newer areas of Pune, there are some neighbourhoods that still
retain the Maharashtrian and old Pune charm.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Peth’s
and Wada’s of Pune are a reminder of a good times when this place thrived and which held its own identity and
nurtured its own culture. They had their own distinct style in architecture,
music, dance, theatre, performing arts and that mouth watering, subtly flavored distinct Maharashtrian
cuisine.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRHQE6-WujCtDDruL3HVr5wQWwqWVn6zctBAlbfU0YxvxXv98yJ3r8hCc3d8KrUee-A8Ind4FyDsKhVcdFYBrmIy4kDp9rUd0VOEEyozMvPqlbuoMuBBBoMSUGCoKJkWz_6hKZ/s1600/IMG_20180802_123438.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="background-color: transparent; clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRHQE6-WujCtDDruL3HVr5wQWwqWVn6zctBAlbfU0YxvxXv98yJ3r8hCc3d8KrUee-A8Ind4FyDsKhVcdFYBrmIy4kDp9rUd0VOEEyozMvPqlbuoMuBBBoMSUGCoKJkWz_6hKZ/s320/IMG_20180802_123438.jpg" width="240" /></a><span style="color: black; mso-themecolor: text1;">For atleast the last
three generations if not more, Tulshi baug, in old Pune has been a paradise for
female shoppers of all ages and times. Unlike now when you will need to park
your car somewhere far away in available parking spaces and take an
autorickshaw that will take you to the periphery of Tulshibaug, you could walk
it up to visit the famous Dagdu Sheth Ganpati temple and then meander into the
by-lanes of Tulshibaug to shop for your trinkets, kitchen accessories,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>wool to knit the next sweater for the nippy
Pune winters or to weave a delicate crochet that transformed into ornate table
cloths and wall hangings, much of which unleashed the creativity of the
housewives of a generation gone by.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 19.5pt; margin-bottom: 18.75pt;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiugIR-HjmunIvFGZ07qIyRPu3QekVGGYbz5kRupOk3OUDmqX4VzTuPnZ4Q6s6YfCgRuaOeSOSDT1yd_BloiQY25yY_AVfWmIJLLLPzJ2B3rsPXoFy2-RiLbJu_0ClGi-93mWCt/s1600/IMG_20180802_123531.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="background-color: transparent; clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiugIR-HjmunIvFGZ07qIyRPu3QekVGGYbz5kRupOk3OUDmqX4VzTuPnZ4Q6s6YfCgRuaOeSOSDT1yd_BloiQY25yY_AVfWmIJLLLPzJ2B3rsPXoFy2-RiLbJu_0ClGi-93mWCt/s320/IMG_20180802_123531.jpg" width="240" /></a><span style="color: black; mso-themecolor: text1;">In Tulshibaug nothing
much has changed in all these years.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As
you alight the autorickshaw at any of the approach roads to Tulshibaug and
enter the narrow alleyways you will be bombarded into the same small shops that
sell everything from trinkets, beads, woolen material, knitting needles, traditional
woven sarees to modern dress materials.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The trends and fashion keep changing and coming back.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But the bric a brac in Tulshi baug caters to
all the variety and times and therefore remains evergreen. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 19.5pt; margin-bottom: 18.75pt;">
<span style="color: black; mso-themecolor: text1;">It is a bargaining haven
and you will be pleased to have struck a deal for something that could cost you
a bomb elsewhere in an upmarket boutique.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Only to discover the next shop offering you a bigger discount on the
same earring or dress material that you bargained and bought a while ago.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>On the road side hawkers set up their shops
of freshly harvested vegetables from the nearby villages. Although the villages
have now moved far away, with all that advent of steel and glass structures
that house the offices of information technology development centers and back
office shops of the world. They were the erstwhile villages and farm lands that
grew vegetables and reared the cattle and poultry to cater to Pune city’s
population.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpu4b974qxnEvHS1KiyZjr8BGZn8nFjSJczGInUn-rQY_JVycDQIIzlfibhXajEhOi8897AS-0p6RTG82j4hM1of-DK3qeNma_DnGt_cru2nENFrNAJwJ6WyVGi8A2zLUofIEn/s1600/IMG_20180802_122944.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="background-color: transparent; clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpu4b974qxnEvHS1KiyZjr8BGZn8nFjSJczGInUn-rQY_JVycDQIIzlfibhXajEhOi8897AS-0p6RTG82j4hM1of-DK3qeNma_DnGt_cru2nENFrNAJwJ6WyVGi8A2zLUofIEn/s320/IMG_20180802_122944.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="color: black; mso-themecolor: text1;">It is early afternoon and
somewhere amidst the chaos and the crowds, rings the bells of Tulshi baug
Ganpati.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Shoppers and hawkers suspend
their activity and congregate towards the Tulshi baug Ganpati.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Situated right in the middle of the crowded
shopping area is the Tulshi Baug Ganpati, one among the finest gems in Pune’s
historical treasures.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Tulshi Baug
Ganpati has been in existence long before Lokmanya Gangadhar Tilak, made the
festival of Ganpati a public festival, to rally people to fight for social
causes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Established by the local traders
in 1901, it is a display of faith within diversity among the Maharashtrian,
Marwari, Gujarati, Muslim and Parsi traders of Tulshi Baug.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The idol is an imposing 15 feet in height,
made of fiber glass and is on display throughout the year and not just during
the eleven-day Ganeshotsav when all important neighbourhoods garner resources
and manpower to erect their own pandal and install an idol that is a show of
wealth, prosperity and solidarity of the neighbourhood.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.75pt;">
In Tulshi Baug every year
a new idol is sculpted by the renowned sculptor D S Khataokar.<br />
Khataokar has been
responsible for sculpting as well as decorating the Tulshi Baug Ganesh idol for
more than a couple of decades now. <o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
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Pious devotees and
passersby take turns to hold the brass
lamp and circumambulate the lamp for a few minutes as a part of the ‘Arati
ritual’ before handing over to the next person. It is a ten-minute ritual in
which Traders, hawkers and the passersby alike, stop-by and participate. <o:p></o:p></div>
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An ostentatious display
of about 80 kilograms of silver along with fruit and flower garlands that are
refreshed every day, the Tulshibaug Ganpati stands in a small 20 feet by 20
feet space in a crowded and busy marketplace as a pillar of prosperity for its
inhabitants and visitors alike. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Around the corner is the
famous Ganpati temple built by Dagdu Sheth Halwai, a local trader that has
celebrated its 125th year of establishment. About 40 kilograms of gold
ornaments adorn two idols of elephant god and are insured for 10 million (one
crore) rupees.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Despite being situated in
a maze which you can only reach through narrow alleyways, its construction is
so minimalistic that you can view the idol from the main road as you pass by
the temple on Laxmi road, the main thoroughfare surrounding the Dagdu Sheth
Ganpati Mandir. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.75pt;">
Legend has it that Dagdu
Sheth Gadve a trader who migrated to Pune in the 1800’s had set up a sweets
shop (and hence the surname Halwai) in this place. Bad times fell upon him and he lost his son
to a plague epidemic and went into deep depression. This in turn led to a
downfall in his business. His spiritual
mentor advised him to build a temple for Lord Ganesh to overcome the bad
times. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.75pt;">
Apparently after he built
the temple, his fortunes turned and the entire place attracted wealth and
prosperity for him as well as the other traders around the area. It was here
that the idea of celebrating public Ganesh festival struck Lokmanya Bal Gangadhar
Tilak. It proved to be an epoch-making event in Indian history as Ganeshotsav’s
in the early 1900’s slowly rallied support against the British and culminated
in the freedom movement leading to India’s independence from the British
rule. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 12.75pt;">
Dagdu Sheth Ganpati
Mandir trust is the richest trust in the state of Maharashtra and is known for
the many celebrities who flock the temple during the annual eleven-day
Ganeshotsav. <o:p></o:p></div>
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The vibes of the Pune of
yester years is strong and vibrant around these places, and is a stark contrast
to the sprawling concrete jungle of its more cosmopolitan suburbs. A visit to Pune’s Peth areas is not complete
without visiting an ‘Amruttulya’ outlet. Translated in English it could mean
‘Comparable to Nectar’, it is a great hit among those who have that cultivated
taste for ‘Chaha’ the Puneri way. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV9zl7RmaFb1lwZYtDyaz66QsVlv-YkSXoUKoqrJ0kQEF8Bzl-CC2EmnXBToJh7eX1TqFOKt96hcolyjNUpAOkf8gCuRz7Zeu3mCy0ow3f37pcVvleDNPZnGsjoQjr9NGfD_5Y/s1600/IMG_20180802_113656.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="background-color: transparent; clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV9zl7RmaFb1lwZYtDyaz66QsVlv-YkSXoUKoqrJ0kQEF8Bzl-CC2EmnXBToJh7eX1TqFOKt96hcolyjNUpAOkf8gCuRz7Zeu3mCy0ow3f37pcVvleDNPZnGsjoQjr9NGfD_5Y/s320/IMG_20180802_113656.jpg" width="240" /></a>At an Amruttulya outlet
tea is not brewed but boiled. Buffalo’s milk, water, sugar, crushed ginger and
cardamom along with tea leaves are boiled and continuously stirred in a brass
vessel. The older the brass vessel, the more distinct is the flavor of the tea
boiled from it. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: 18.8pt;">
Often situated as a
corner shop in busy intersections of crowded marketplaces, an Amruttulya outlet
is a small hole in the wall with a corner that serves as the kitchen. A shining brass kettle perched up a kerosene stove
always has some tea boiling in it with crushed ginger, cardamom, tea leaves,
milk and sugar. It is poured out in a
cup and a bashi (saucer) and served to the customer. A true Puneri way of having your tea is to
pour out hot tea from the cup, into the saucer, watch it cool and noisily sip
it from the saucer. Noisier the better. <o:p></o:p></div>
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</div>
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When at an Amruttulya
outlet in Pune, do not judge someone’s etiquette by how their sip their
‘Chaha’. For the ‘Chaha’ is best sipped from the Bashi and not from cup. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqk-7GPU1_Nkw4WPipNNCL_qMv9IzToZ_el9CHmWk8cz3KoYOUhHKzgtpVL-spQNUNkNef81ehLeXixRtXvgZB_nPiihPJbFodhUoiCpVWvZ7JOM4bD23BgSL_s9OYPEGKFA62/s1600/Amruttulya+peth+pune.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="background-color: transparent; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="560" data-original-width="747" height="476" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqk-7GPU1_Nkw4WPipNNCL_qMv9IzToZ_el9CHmWk8cz3KoYOUhHKzgtpVL-spQNUNkNef81ehLeXixRtXvgZB_nPiihPJbFodhUoiCpVWvZ7JOM4bD23BgSL_s9OYPEGKFA62/s640/Amruttulya+peth+pune.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: black; mso-themecolor: text1;">A middle-aged man dressed
in an impeccable white kurta, pyjama and a white cotton Gandhi cap, after some
routine haggling buys a bunch of lemon grass and ginger wrapped in a newspaper
for ten rupees from the old woman clad in a nine yards saree who has set up her
wares by to road side </span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhspvxBSNdWh7D7xzxNo2JTy7AOMYtmy73LDgldEpNRcatUlQviRFO0PyLH5R5zT9oVBv9uny7G1Rd6_ad50ikE34caTMzOMLIK-bEI8S-1Ea7BPOd3H53m0eGScvVRwCl6U1pM/s1600/gavati+chaha+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhspvxBSNdWh7D7xzxNo2JTy7AOMYtmy73LDgldEpNRcatUlQviRFO0PyLH5R5zT9oVBv9uny7G1Rd6_ad50ikE34caTMzOMLIK-bEI8S-1Ea7BPOd3H53m0eGScvVRwCl6U1pM/s320/gavati+chaha+2.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
outside the Amruttulya outlet. Like in most Maharashtrian
households, his day would begin with a <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Gavati
Chaha</i> - strong tea, boiled and strongly flavoured with cuttings of lemon
grass and crushed ginger along with a bowlful of Kanda poha seasoned with
freshly grated coconut and finely chopped coriander leaves while reading the ‘<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Sakal</i>’ newspaper.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Somewhere in the background Pune’s own
Bhimsen Joshi would croon away a <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Vithal
Bhajan</i> that would set the atmosphere just right to begin yet another day in
one of the few <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">waadas</i> left in old
Pune.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p><br />
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<span style="color: red;">References : <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 19.5pt; margin-bottom: 18.75pt;">
<span style="color: red;">/thepunekar.com/2018/03/punes-magnificent-tulsi-baug-ganpati/<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 19.5pt; margin-bottom: 18.75pt;">
<span class="MsoHyperlink"><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tulsi_Baug">https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tulsi_Baug</a></span><span style="color: red;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: 19.5pt; margin-bottom: 18.75pt;">
<span style="color: red;">https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dagadusheth_Halwai_Ganapati_Temple<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Jayanthi Gopalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04377793298308663704noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7103454.post-43393762562979494612019-04-19T08:30:00.000-07:002019-04-19T08:30:07.465-07:00 Life on the slow track - BANANA BUNS IN UDUPI<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: red; font-size: 18.0pt; line-height: 107%;">BANANA BUNS
IN UDUPI<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: red; font-size: 18.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQJyAV_Tvz1kXkGyEfSzafDDZzx2MCjvMlU0ALjPFRu9Cqv_G8lFC-g2isBDuoK_Kh7JDH3MFjKX0b6Qqez6WwP7kEtSMLvPVe1ZI4z0eCwZrOiyh1spY7msfNV5z2OsQDV0Hl/s1600/IMG_20180704_110705.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQJyAV_Tvz1kXkGyEfSzafDDZzx2MCjvMlU0ALjPFRu9Cqv_G8lFC-g2isBDuoK_Kh7JDH3MFjKX0b6Qqez6WwP7kEtSMLvPVe1ZI4z0eCwZrOiyh1spY7msfNV5z2OsQDV0Hl/s320/IMG_20180704_110705.jpg" width="240" /></a>It is about 1.30 in the afternoon and the town of Kollur is
in a siesta.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A soothing silence and
peace has engulfed this little town. Dark clouds that threaten a downpour
anytime pass by peacefully as though they too are on an afternoon siesta. The
temple around which the entire economy of this little town in built is closed
until evening. The shopkeepers too are on a siesta. <o:p></o:p><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
As you walk up to the Kollur bus station and sit inside the
only bus that leaves for all places outside of kollur, including Udupi, you
realize the driver is also having a siesta on the long front seat. The
conductor is the only man on duty and he is out smoking a cigarette. He is happy for the lone passenger to board
his bus and quickly goes out to solicit more of them. Unfortunately, he does
not find any.<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It is a lovely window seat from where you get to view the
lush green mountains and feel the slight nip in the moist air of Kollur.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As the bus takes off you take in the hazy
experience of watching the landscape. In about three to four hours the
landscape drastically changes from the greenery of the mountains to the
barrenness of the plains especially when the bus takes the fast route on that
freshly built NH44.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The freshly felled trees are an indication of the newly
built National highway that pierces through this place would be expanded into
an eight-lane highway.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>On the yet to be
expanded national highway are huge billboards advertising gold and diamond
jewelry showrooms, newly found educational institutions guaranteeing 100% job
placements and infertility clinics with 99.8% success rate of producing
children for barren couples. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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The traffic gets dense as the long vehicles from the
Mangalore port, the trucks, the tourist buses and the plush cars whiz past at
dizzying speeds. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p> </o:p>Travelling from Kollur by a bus, it is amazing to see the
landscape of these coastal towns change rapidly as you move towards the plains.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7274XBTl9sdA14f4H3l57MqMQIlpq4V90a-dWLIu_FukdQyGSer7RGxv4JAxnyJY4ndTJ2KDfcqwRdACR6FuND8m65-Q7vZd8QwWPPyq05BHy7YDfYSAou3BoJD59xrarZs-4/s1600/B+udupi+sri+krishna+temple.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="609" data-original-width="457" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7274XBTl9sdA14f4H3l57MqMQIlpq4V90a-dWLIu_FukdQyGSer7RGxv4JAxnyJY4ndTJ2KDfcqwRdACR6FuND8m65-Q7vZd8QwWPPyq05BHy7YDfYSAou3BoJD59xrarZs-4/s320/B+udupi+sri+krishna+temple.jpg" width="240" /></a>As you close in to Udupi, the weather gets warm and humid.
There is a saline tinge in the air. Your arrival into the town is evident as
the traffic gets denser and the central part of Udupi town emerges. It is a
noisy and busy bus station, quite a contrast to its quiet and quaint railway
station. <o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The bus conductor calls out for passengers alighting at
Udupi to hurry up. As you alight, the noise, the crowd, the chaos, the huge
billboards of this not so small town hit you hard.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Udupi Lord Krishna on whom many a composition has been
composed and sung by Carnatic musicians is the reigning deity of this
town.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p><br />
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span>
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Udupi Sri Krishna temple around whom the entire town grew
over the years is about ten minutes’ drive away from the bus station by an
autorickshaw. The streets surrounding the temple are cordoned off for vehicular
traffic.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p><br />
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span>
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
At the center of squarely built streets stands the Udupi Sri
Krishna temple with an imposing but petite architecture.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Surrounding the temple on the wide pavemented
streets are, various institutions run by various ‘Mutt’s who are headquartered
in Udupi, one of the five important Krishna temples in India.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx3jf0h_Fn0Xa4ZDwHWSafoRj59f0kxM01PAhJzYU7YsENydE1NhweDanoIJhB0pfcomVuvnrm8uNtPNq2MY3ZUtU2YnMGEqWB3yKvxtNQg-OVy8DjHPZ_6qAhDewEQBH4R0WH/s1600/B+mutt+architecture.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="609" data-original-width="457" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx3jf0h_Fn0Xa4ZDwHWSafoRj59f0kxM01PAhJzYU7YsENydE1NhweDanoIJhB0pfcomVuvnrm8uNtPNq2MY3ZUtU2YnMGEqWB3yKvxtNQg-OVy8DjHPZ_6qAhDewEQBH4R0WH/s320/B+mutt+architecture.jpg" width="240" /></a>The aesthetically appealing architecture, grandly lit
facades and delicately designed wood work make these ‘Mutts’ stand out and
should loud to say that once upon a time these institutions thrived in this
temple town. This place is also a prestigious platform for performing artistes
to showcase their art.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p><br />
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span>
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In the olden days these mutt’s would offer shelter and food
to devotees who travelled from afar. Before the roads were built and rail roads
were laid, undertaking a travel must have been an arduous affair. Travel must
have been more for pilgrimage purposes than as a family outing or a youthful
adventure. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Depending upon your affiliation in your home town, you
checked into a mutt that had its branch in Udupi.<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Times have changed. The Mutt’s let out these rooms for a
small amount. But not before checking your antecedents and affiliations of
caste, sub-caste and religion. It is not a commercial affair and no one
solicits business here. You get referred by someone who has been there or
someone you knew from your home town. <o:p></o:p></div>
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One such mutt is the Uttaradi Mutt. An institution that has
perhaps seen better days in the past. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
A ‘China Bazaar’ shop selling cheap plastic items and fake
Puma track suits for 200 rupees camouflages the entrance to the Uttaradi mutt.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>However, as you enter the Mutt, a
different aura engulfs you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The front
yard is decorated with<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>a Tulsi alcove.
(Basil – shrub considered to be Sri Krishna’s consort). A woman renunciate, a
Krishna devotee is arranging the flowers and the copper vessels at an unhurried
pace perhaps getting it ready for the evening pooja ritual to the Tulsi
Alcove.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Time seems to flow slowly and
peacefully inside the Mutt. <o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Inside the Mutt is a big hall and on the altar is a huge
brass sculpture of Sri Krishna, very tastefully decorated. On the first floor
from where you can oversee the happening in the hall are the rooms available
for rent. In the room you get freshly laundered bedsheets and pillows on the
double bed and a spotlessly clean bathroom.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>No frills like air conditioning, bottled mineral water or room
service.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is a place for devotee and
pilgrims coming from faraway places to refresh and move on.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As you step out of Uttaradi Mutt, you witness that Opulence
is in the air.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is ‘Krishna’ land. A
‘darshan’ of the richly decorated idol of Udupi Shri Krishna is relayed to
devotees through LED Televisions all around the temple as well as at the
entrances on all four sides of the temple.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>There are rituals performed six times during the day.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
At the temple auditorium a young girl with two accompanying
artistes, one on the harmonium and another on a tabla is performing a dance
drama known as the Hari Katha. The Chairs in the auditorium are all taken and
people are sitting and standing across the stone walls of the temple mesmerized
by the performance. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Sraddha is probably in her late teens, hails from Kasargode
another coastal town not far from Udupi. Her performance is awe-inspiring.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She wears absolutely no makeup, sans her
bindi.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Her hair is nicely oiled and
plaited into a single braid. Dressed in a blue long skirt (Lehenga) and red
silk blouse, she is standing at the middle of the stage reciting the ‘Srinivasa
kalyanam’.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The marriage of ‘Tirupati
Venkatesha’ to his consort ‘Padmavati’ .<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>While the format traverses through the various avatars of Sri Vishnu,
Rama and Krishna being two among them, the story telling is interspersed with
teachings from the Bhagavata Puranam.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p><br />
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieYRXbLShAlpWyEirNsWVAoFsioAG4Nrff3zw-flaCT0cL8hTctlP8VXNTcyN9-13XC2mShRW4o4VWzy34zrAs_s0-d3vZoZ_CS66MchH5SNIwhlZP-RKcZPAxLHVth4BWDRqi/s1600/IMG_20180704_191708.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="392" data-original-width="266" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieYRXbLShAlpWyEirNsWVAoFsioAG4Nrff3zw-flaCT0cL8hTctlP8VXNTcyN9-13XC2mShRW4o4VWzy34zrAs_s0-d3vZoZ_CS66MchH5SNIwhlZP-RKcZPAxLHVth4BWDRqi/s320/IMG_20180704_191708.jpg" width="217" /></a></div>
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Her recital is in Kannada, the local language and the
compositions are by Purandaradasa, an eighteenth-century composer believed to
be the earliest founder of Carnatic music. The story is that of Vishnu Avatar’s
and Bhagavata Puranam.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As she bursts into songs, stories and anecdotes while
reciting the story her expressions, her tone and her demeanor change. On her
right hand in a cymbal that she plays in order to keep the rhythm and add music
to her recitals, she is accompanied by two men, much older to her, one on the
harmonium and the other on a tabla. As the evening progresses, she intersperses
her songs with recitals and adds a modern-day contemporary touch to it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When she bursts into ‘Venkata chala Nilayam …
vaikunta pura vasam’, the composition by Sri Purandaradasa describing, Sri
Vishnu’s abode in ‘Vaikunta’, the audience is spell bound and the applause
across the auditorium reaches high decibels.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And yet she is an unknown, unsung artiste of an art form
that has few takers at the wider level. As the performance draws to a close,
the father of the young artiste is introduced.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The audience, mesmerized by her performance, put together their hands
for a huge applause for nurturing this young talent. <o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
A very shy and introverted Sraddha thanks the audience who
have walked upto her for the compliment and moves closer to her father, while
busying herself packing her backpack with her belongings as they wrap up the
show. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Neither Sraddha, nor her father have plans for her to pursue
this art form as a full-time career.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At
that point in time they are just thankful for the Temple authorities to have
given her a chance to perform at the Udupi Sri Krishna temple. <o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
There must be many like Sraddha in small towns like
Kasargode and beyond, whose talents will sadly never be recognized by the wider
world. But it opens your eyes to the depth of talent and devotion to a less
known art form that lies hidden in the hinterlands of India where a rich and
ancient culture thrived and promoted story telling as an art form for many
centuries over. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Udupi in the contemporary time is known for its iconic brand
of restaurants all over India that symbolize the typical ‘south Indian’
food.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They do not exactly operate like a
restaurant chain or franchise, but are eateries across all segments run by
families who have their roots in the coastal Karnataka region ranging from
Mangalore, Gokarna and Udupi.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6jOfxIZLZxSAYiarXNB4_e7bV3FDY8tgHLaFsLsv8-thfsdgjFxUFPtYaE9NCwIphMDHA6nsLebeK727Ml5GWw-SxEYEjATxR0Td2gJ-Bwf9YDFRRx3J0kVpFjfzujBkT7JVw/s1600/B+banana+buns+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="609" data-original-width="812" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6jOfxIZLZxSAYiarXNB4_e7bV3FDY8tgHLaFsLsv8-thfsdgjFxUFPtYaE9NCwIphMDHA6nsLebeK727Ml5GWw-SxEYEjATxR0Td2gJ-Bwf9YDFRRx3J0kVpFjfzujBkT7JVw/s320/B+banana+buns+2.jpg" width="320" /></a>Their unfailingly standardized recipes that
originate from this region have come about to signify your typical South Indian
cuisine in the far-flung regions of India.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Although the South Indian cuisine is much more than the standard fare of
‘Udupi’ Masala dosa and Ghee roast dished out with a slightly sweet sambar and
coconut chutney. <o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC6Dg-BR02oR6-QhnktUij6EHDFkaYG23QdP7XKxMNhdE4rJuOeRvEqR5hyEimdFJ5EE6sOwxKxHMA1Da_KZOEYsK06gaz3e6WN_7A4xZuXrFSK0ds3rm5JBAvIY9HhlSbCLYF/s1600/B+mangalore-buns-banana-puri-recipe.1024x1024-5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="680" data-original-width="1024" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC6Dg-BR02oR6-QhnktUij6EHDFkaYG23QdP7XKxMNhdE4rJuOeRvEqR5hyEimdFJ5EE6sOwxKxHMA1Da_KZOEYsK06gaz3e6WN_7A4xZuXrFSK0ds3rm5JBAvIY9HhlSbCLYF/s320/B+mangalore-buns-banana-puri-recipe.1024x1024-5.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTJhaPCHGRYoOTV9Wq-XqB-XJr4FXPOqhKOd7e9I8hpzOIoChUy0c6GsBEd3LK0ZRe4BQfxfJXaaZGyrXartj714rUm_vSnYTbqukUpA6nPmVX1hzHfweJ0gWL-CVxm1yfSwiG/s1600/B+banana+buns.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="609" data-original-width="457" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTJhaPCHGRYoOTV9Wq-XqB-XJr4FXPOqhKOd7e9I8hpzOIoChUy0c6GsBEd3LK0ZRe4BQfxfJXaaZGyrXartj714rUm_vSnYTbqukUpA6nPmVX1hzHfweJ0gWL-CVxm1yfSwiG/s400/B+banana+buns.jpg" width="300" /></a>Much lesser known among the Costal Karnataka delicacies is
the Banana bun also known as the Mangalore Bun. It is a bun that is not baked
but fried and makes for lovely snack. Slightly sweet in taste, it is made with
overripe mashed banana, mixed with dough that has been fermented overnight. The
Dough balls are then flattened and fried in oil. This slightly sweet snack is
best savoured hot with a splattering of coconut chutney.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<br />
</div>
Jayanthi Gopalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04377793298308663704noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7103454.post-71336298524255199992019-04-15T09:04:00.001-07:002019-04-15T09:04:22.179-07:00Jayanthi Gopal - Google local guide video<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="344" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/4tQMSxmMhrU" width="459"></iframe>Jayanthi Gopalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04377793298308663704noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7103454.post-47731269028655028042019-04-14T01:22:00.000-07:002019-04-14T01:22:00.350-07:00Raise that finger and show it to ‘em<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="MsoHyperlink"><span style="text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">It is that time when the citizen is the king. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When democracy comes alive and the mighty and
powerful come down kneeling to ask to be voted to power. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="MsoHyperlink"><span style="text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">Thanks to Election commission (and perhaps demonetization)
, this year’s run-up to the elections is devoid of the massive fanfare that it
used to be in the yesteryears. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="MsoHyperlink"><span style="text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">Absence of those massive cut outs, <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>mid night political rallies, cash and spirits flowing
like water in exchange of promised votes gives us some hope that sanity will
prevail in this democracy atleast in the future.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="MsoHyperlink"><span style="text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">Perhaps I am <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>being naïve...<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="MsoHyperlink"><span style="text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span>Perhaps there is a lot going on behind the
screens or underground. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="MsoHyperlink"><span style="text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">Perhaps our politicians have evolved and have devised other
jugaadu ways to hood wink the election commission… <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="MsoHyperlink"><span style="text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="MsoHyperlink"><span style="text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">But the change on the ground is visible. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="MsoHyperlink"><span style="text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="MsoHyperlink"><span style="text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">More than the rallying from the political parties, it is
the rally from the election commission and the citizens urging everyone to go
and cast their vote, that is worth taking note of. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="MsoHyperlink"><span style="text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="MsoHyperlink"><span style="text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">For if we do not do our bit, we are equally responsible
for the mess that our politicians create when voted to power. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="MsoHyperlink"><span style="text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="MsoHyperlink"><span style="text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">While Bangalore’s immigrant population has been vociferous
about their missing votes, there are celebrities that are urging their fans to
go out and cast their vote on twitter and facebook. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="MsoHyperlink"><span style="text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="MsoHyperlink"><span style="text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">Here is one such plea urging citizens to go and vote that
was painted on the walls of a government primary school building in a
village on the banks of Narmada river near Khandwa in Madhya Pradesh that had me in splits as I clicked ...<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlch7hOFkpU9HtP6jyTFw6iahyphenhyphenqznw_7MyH_UUs7ol7l0_LG3PF81g3e519VbX3TcsQnNBlW9v6vAV7lbLwP4f51eTX9-4F__jgPVBo4Zk6B88YGlj32_OjUDtRmzOmKU3wW3E/s1600/IMG_20190403_093902.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlch7hOFkpU9HtP6jyTFw6iahyphenhyphenqznw_7MyH_UUs7ol7l0_LG3PF81g3e519VbX3TcsQnNBlW9v6vAV7lbLwP4f51eTX9-4F__jgPVBo4Zk6B88YGlj32_OjUDtRmzOmKU3wW3E/s400/IMG_20190403_093902.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="MsoHyperlink"><span style="text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;"><o:p><br /></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
Pehle vote daalne jaana...<br />
Baad mey apni Bhains lagaana...<br />
<br />
(Literal translation : The first thing on voting day – go cast your vote.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You can then take your buffaloes out to graze)<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="MsoHyperlink"><span style="text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">Hilarious as it sounded at first, on second thoughts I thought
it had a universal appeal. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="MsoHyperlink"><span style="text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">We all have our buffaloes that we need to take out to
graze .<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Metaphorically speaking. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="MsoHyperlink"><span style="text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="MsoHyperlink"><span style="text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">It may not be the rural hinterlands on the banks of Narmada,
but in the air-conditioned cubicles and cabins of those tall glass buildings
that some of us take our buffaloes to graze’.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="MsoHyperlink"><span style="text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="MsoHyperlink"><span style="text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">But vote we must.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="MsoHyperlink"><span style="text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="MsoHyperlink"><span style="text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">And
for that it is OK to take time off. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So without much ado… Go out there and vote <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="MsoHyperlink"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="MsoHyperlink">Raise that (index) finger and show
it to ‘em <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br /></div>
Jayanthi Gopalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04377793298308663704noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7103454.post-65375443796087431802019-04-12T01:26:00.000-07:002019-04-12T01:26:21.639-07:00Life on the slow track - Appam and Stew aboard NH49<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
The grey overcast
sky from the early morning has given way and with the advent of sunshine, the
day looks bright and clear.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is humid
but not hot at this time of the day. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When on a road trip it is best to go with your instinct and
eat at places that you have never heard of before.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5KCkQlFK7FeYUhiQl0U_ArOK4ETk8rZmUIiqZkmggXOaRfZO30eTDwFRJ8XYWFxVLqAUY5uBit2KsqoL54Yn2JougOMpL3NNgkCLv86tMey_1kxxKWAllxHQ1JsKrj4L1Tuq1/s1600/A+-+MDM+bill+board.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="609" data-original-width="457" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5KCkQlFK7FeYUhiQl0U_ArOK4ETk8rZmUIiqZkmggXOaRfZO30eTDwFRJ8XYWFxVLqAUY5uBit2KsqoL54Yn2JougOMpL3NNgkCLv86tMey_1kxxKWAllxHQ1JsKrj4L1Tuq1/s400/A+-+MDM+bill+board.jpg" width="300" /></a>Aboard the NH49, is this mid-sized bill board hanging out by
the road side which says ‘MDM … stew and palappam Rs. 5.’<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><br />
<br />
As you slow down, you see a small shop on the
opposite side of the road that is trying hard to cater to a cross section of
customers by advertising chinees (sic), north Indian, South Indian snacks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><br />
<br />
However, at that time in the morning, the
man behind the oven is busy preparing the dough for the Malabar parotta (as different
as chalk and cheese in genre, species and characteristics from the north Indian
understanding of paratha).<br />
<br />
All they have available at that time of the day is
Appam and stew unless you are prepared to wait for about twenty minutes, says a
woman’s voice from the kitchen.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
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<div class="MsoNormal">
A slightly wobbly yellow plastic table surrounded by blue
plastic chairs does not make for a great ambience, but the not so busy NH-49
cutting across the coconut groves and the fresh rays of early morning sunlight
piercing through the dense greenery on the opposite side of the road is
soothing for the eyes. Besides it is a good place to stretch your legs, breathe
some cool fresh air before the day gets humid and have a leisurely breakfast. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The lady lays out a lemony yellow plastic plate and serves a
fluffy white appam with bare hands. Along comes a hot bowl of stew and the
fragrance of freshly culled out coconut milk spiced up with cloves, cinnamon
and cardamom ensures you have made the right stop at the right time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The spotlessly white appam is soft in the
middle, which comes from mixing the dough with freshly fermented coconut
milk.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><br />
<br />
There are some dishes that cannot
be mass manufactured in the restaurants with heavy foot fall.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> This is one of them,</span><br />
<br />
Served fresh and hot they taste as authentic
as they can and come with what is called the ‘homely touch’.<o:p></o:p></div>
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MDM restaurant supplies its palappam and stew to the nearby
hotels who stock it up in their buffet breakfast menu.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This road side kitchen survives on its bulk
orders of Appam and stew from the nearby hotels claiming to serve ‘authentic
local food’. That was the reason they had Appam and stew available in the early
hours, ready to the shipped to the hotels in time for the display in the buffet
breakfast menu.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p><br />
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Light on the palate, slightly sweetened in taste by the
coconut milk and mildly spiced up, vegetable stew is an authentic local dish of
the Malabar coast line.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p><br />
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
‘Stew’ as the name of the recipe was perhaps was an
inheritance from the British, who were familiar with the other stewed versions
like the apple stew, lamb and lentil stew from Europe.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p><br />
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span>
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The localized version is the ‘Ishtu’ as it is called by the
locals. Its ingredients and recipe are certainly as local as it can get.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Cloves, cardamom, cashew and seasonal
vegetables or mutton pieces slowly stewed (not cooked) in freshly extracted
coconut milk. It was probably christened as the Malabar stew by the British
almost a century ago.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The locals have
adapted the nomenclature and pronounce it ‘ishtu’. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxV8aWrl4c8sEQQ4lDJMBYJx2dQrB0n4-j5mr7Lb90zw88Z2vk4QADbCSxC0aF4uhUS13UiVY1DMUg3_EqmIvYzn34jicS-jhq3f7ELEVKcPmVgoHClzkV54bPSTj_9sEcOPxW/s1600/A+-+appam+and+stew+aboard+HN49.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="609" data-original-width="457" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxV8aWrl4c8sEQQ4lDJMBYJx2dQrB0n4-j5mr7Lb90zw88Z2vk4QADbCSxC0aF4uhUS13UiVY1DMUg3_EqmIvYzn34jicS-jhq3f7ELEVKcPmVgoHClzkV54bPSTj_9sEcOPxW/s320/A+-+appam+and+stew+aboard+HN49.jpg" width="240" /></a>When you look around and search for the origins of this
recipe, you can trace it down among the Srilankans and Tamils settled in the
coastal district in Tuticorin and Nagapattinam.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In its Srilankan Sinhalese version the stew
is known as ‘Sodhi’. This dish perhaps<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>originated from Sri lanka which has a similar terrain and flora like the
Malabar coast. A vast coast line, abundant coconut trees, spices and locally
grown vegetables and livestock evolved and mutated into a recipe that was
adapted by the locals and the colonial rulers alike.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></div>
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In its Malabar version, it is best served with fluffy
appam’s that are prepared with fermented lentils and rice dough mixed with
tender coconut water and coconut milk extract. Best served hot and eaten in a
traditional Kerala home or at a non-descript road side eatery along the
national highways dotted across the Malabar coast. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Jayanthi Gopalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04377793298308663704noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7103454.post-65680165342460868882019-04-05T04:13:00.000-07:002019-04-05T04:13:01.713-07:00 Life on the slow track - Vada pao at Karjat Station<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5QWcI2p34IHFtxQB0V26oGe3n35pWulaS4sZNgrxNNhVqfDPSXZwk1uTP5XikrBJP_5ifFlClCCkhheAiHKKDh2Eul0pU6RamYk1eOFol2WMLsarv-jAQZndxlUMJeh9tBtQL/s1600/karjat+stations.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5QWcI2p34IHFtxQB0V26oGe3n35pWulaS4sZNgrxNNhVqfDPSXZwk1uTP5XikrBJP_5ifFlClCCkhheAiHKKDh2Eul0pU6RamYk1eOFol2WMLsarv-jAQZndxlUMJeh9tBtQL/s400/karjat+stations.jpg" width="300" /></a><br />
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Aboard the train from Mumbai to Pune as the skyscrapers of
the megapolis fade away and a more soothing weather permeates around you, you know you are approaching Karjat station.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><br />
<br />
The ascent to the hill stations of Lonavala,
khandala and Matheran start from here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>If it is the monsoons, the misty clouds would definitely float over the
Karjat station.<br />
<br />
Among long distance train goers, it has been a long-standing
tradition to taste the Vada pao at karjat station irrespective of what has been
packed into your lunch boxes for the long train journey.<br />
<br />
There is a quaint old-world charm about the karjat station especially when you relive those memories as you bite into a soft and spicy Karjat Vada pao.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p><br />
<div>
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br />
<br />
Vada pao – is India’s rather Maharashtra’s answer to
Americas Burger. However, to the Indian taste buds a burger and a Vada Pao are
poles apart. At least the McDonald’s burger or the one from Burger king.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Attempts have been made to 'McDonaldize' Vada pao
by some Neo MBA types with large funding from venture capitalists. Thankfully
their attempts have not really taken off. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfaC5SFxiI7dUp4tt52JcDZdFG6DZ-XEygQinnBT_INH9-_6l36_ff6yJ6HVMpDwPbV8UMpThNfHiZ1dWrNwZBKXd4Mr3lerKbD3EUMUWul6p5u617o7eEopVAcbG7qlzCEXx6/s1600/Vada+pav+in+Karjat.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfaC5SFxiI7dUp4tt52JcDZdFG6DZ-XEygQinnBT_INH9-_6l36_ff6yJ6HVMpDwPbV8UMpThNfHiZ1dWrNwZBKXd4Mr3lerKbD3EUMUWul6p5u617o7eEopVAcbG7qlzCEXx6/s320/Vada+pav+in+Karjat.jpg" width="240" /></a>There is no comparison to a freshly made
Vada pao. A ball of boiled potato mixed with boiled peas and spices, is fried with
gram flour paste in oil like a fritter and inserted in between a layer of soft
bun (pao).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Strictly that would be Vada and
pao.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But the icing on the pao is the
dark red garlic chutney and a fried green chilly that is inserted between the Vada
and the pao.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The quality of the latter
solely determines how mouthwatering your snack would be. <o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Best eaten hot and spicy, during a defeaning downpour, Vada
pao evolved from being a staple food for the mill workers of Mumbai in the 1940s and
1950s.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was a wholesome quick snack
that you could grab and bite while on the go and satisfy your hunger pangs
while on your way home. <o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Typically, Vada pao outlets are located at railway stations,
bus stations and areas where there is a huge footfall of working-class population.
Every college also has its reigning Vada pao vendor.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p><br />
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Shiv sena, the local political party of Maharashtra patronized
Vada-pao as a working-class snack. Over the years it became the official snack
of the Mumbai megapolis. It is the ideal snack for a population that is always on
the move.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The maximum city that never
sleeps.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVuxPDZS3hIs-x-SUF0JhD5ECDQyuxKc1ZpMeR7bOEYqRH7MwY49Em2DB2q8WhQXcEdr2E8y90jvHCOqaRt1SImnXRroRfw8zd5z8MoAjs9Xoad7cRcgMjW7G7ttnY7PP8RphY/s1600/Diwadkar+vada+pav.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVuxPDZS3hIs-x-SUF0JhD5ECDQyuxKc1ZpMeR7bOEYqRH7MwY49Em2DB2q8WhQXcEdr2E8y90jvHCOqaRt1SImnXRroRfw8zd5z8MoAjs9Xoad7cRcgMjW7G7ttnY7PP8RphY/s320/Diwadkar+vada+pav.jpg" width="240" /></a>There is something about having a Vada pao at Karjat
station. As you train stops by, you only need to look out and there would be a
vendor with the customary ‘Diwadkar’ embroidered in a red band across his khaki shirt,
wearing a white topi, waiting with a tray full of hot Vada and fresh pao with a
vessel containing the dry garlic chutney.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
For a mere ten rupees he could quickly dispense a Vada inserted
in pao, smeared with the red chutney along with the fried green chilly on a
newspaper wrapping to suit your taste.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Eco friendly, biodegradable litter and no trappings of the brand
placement for the Diwadkars despite the volumes that they sell. Their quality
speaks for them. <o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The stop at Karjat station for most trains is a mere five
minutes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And yet you are never short of
time, because there are so many of the Diwadkar’s mobile stalls right in front
of your train window, that materialize as soon as you have decided to buy your Vada
pao.<br />
<br />
For the Diwadkar Vada pao vendor, time is of essence here, as he needs to
cater to as many passengers as possible in those five minutes from across the
train window. Apparently massive quantities of Vada pao are sold in those five
minutes. <o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It is all done very efficiently and with minimum fuss.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><br />
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As your train jerks and moves on, your mouth has already been
salivating for a few minutes now. You cannot hold up anymore. You give in and bite
into your Vada pao and the pungent taste of Garlic, the savories of the boiled potato
and crispiness of the Vada along with the
softness of the pao compete to seduce your taste buds. It is the softness of the pao that eventually wins. Unfailingly
fresh and hot, Diwadkar’s have maintained a standard for which the Karjat Vada
pao is known for.<br />
<o:p></o:p></div>
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There are many Vada pao outlets all over Mumbai, Pune and
the rest of Maharashtra. Everyone has their favorites. For Vada pao not only
triggers your taste buds but also your memories.<br />
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">Memories of places visited and times gone by.</span><br />
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And here is one such nostalgic indulgence.<br />
<br />
As you walk up the Dadar – tilak bridge from Dadar west, you
come across Sri Krishna Batata vada. It is a thick crowd of commuters that have
alighted the Dadar station and are bound to catch a bus that would alight at
the Tilak bridge just a few staircases away.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>You pull out a coin as you straddle through the crowd, hand it out, pick
up your token, walk to the next counter and pick your <i>Batata vada</i> wrapped in a newspaper with a green chilly and chutney for accompaniment.<br />
<br />
On any given evening
at Sri Krishna <i>Batata vada</i> at Dadar, a hundred <i>Batata vadas</i> are dispensed at the
blink of the eye.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You have no patience
to stand and watch and take a bite. The commuters are gradually pushing your upwards
to the bridge. You could be a college student, an office goer, a mill worker or
a hawker. No one has the time or space to stand and watch.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That is when you grab your <i>Batata vada</i>, tuck it in
your hand bag and make your move. <o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As your bus pulls up, you board your bus and settle down in
the usual window seat. <o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
There is a mild haze in the air, birds from the trees of the
Hindu colony in Dadar, are screeching their throats out to announce the
onset of sunset. You look out of the window seat and realize that the sky is turning
a blushing pink.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yet another day is
coming to a close, you have had a long day of field work. Your destination is still another half hour to go and hunger
pangs cannot wait until <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>then.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
That is when you unzip your bag, unwrap the oil soaked newspaper and
pull out the <i>Batata vada. </i><o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Unlike the Diwadkar’s of karjat, Dadar’s Sri Krishna do not serve you the pao, but just the '<i>Batata vada' </i>- the potato fritters, along with the green chillies. You bite into the hot, pungent <i>batata vada</i> and
the taste of mashed potato, spicy chilly and pungent garlic hits your taste buds
all at once. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><br />
<br />
You experience bliss. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p><br />
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When you have finished eating your <i>Batata vada</i> and are still on
the move, the taste still lingers on your taste buds for many more minutes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p><br />
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But it is the memories that linger on for many many years to
come.<br />
<br />
*************<br />
<br />
P,S : Many many years later in a upmarket airconditioned mall in Bangalore, old friends catch up and reminisce . </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">This post is dedicated to all those TISSians of the '90s who boarded the Institute bus at the Dadar Tilak bridge in the evenings. . </span><br />
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span>
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Jayanthi Gopalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04377793298308663704noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7103454.post-45025017050194130782019-03-29T06:39:00.000-07:002019-03-29T10:46:14.510-07:00Life on the slow track - Chaya kada <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
No landscape of small town India is complete
without a local tea shop where one can taste and smell the pulse of the local
town and its happenings as well as feel the ripples of national events
throbbing through its veins.<br />
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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It has been more than an hour since Shaji’s tea boiler has
been at work at his road side tea shop. A dimly lit tube light is at work since
bright sunlight is still an hour away.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><br />
<br />
Freshly rinsed glass tumblers have been laid out on the counter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In some time, slowly but steadily a stream of
local customers would arrive at his tea shop for their morning cuppa.<br />
<br />
Copies of
the local newspaper, fresh with yesterday’s regional news have just been
delivered by the newspaper boy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><br />
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span>
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiskpK0ygssLOgt-J7LW6eOce541bk_uq8n9BgzUpzMlSUnKFgbApWDFeeXOxI3PRh_vZS3a_eJs8TJldotcVFOpOlygu4DLmqtxOceAlkCgdmtZ2hm6Q8I6YyFN2F5aBh-lzBX/s1600/A+-+tea+shop+in+kerala+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="609" data-original-width="457" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiskpK0ygssLOgt-J7LW6eOce541bk_uq8n9BgzUpzMlSUnKFgbApWDFeeXOxI3PRh_vZS3a_eJs8TJldotcVFOpOlygu4DLmqtxOceAlkCgdmtZ2hm6Q8I6YyFN2F5aBh-lzBX/s400/A+-+tea+shop+in+kerala+2.jpg" width="300" /></a>The boiler is steaming with water and the smell of boiled
tea leaves is wafting across the road.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>On the transparent glass jar, Shaji fills out freshly baked banana cake
that look hard from the outside but are soft and fresh when you bite into them.<br />
<br />
A slightly unripe banana stalk threatening to ripen anytime during the day is
hung on a coir rope right at the entrance of the tea shop, at a height just
right for the customer to stretch and reach out his pick.<br />
<br />
At the corner of the
entrance to the shop is a coir rope hanging loose and at an arm’s length
distance.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It has been set aflame with fire from
the kerosene stove. When the flame has been doused, it burns slowly but steadily
giving out a faint glow of fire and smoke like an incense stick sans the
fragrance. As the day progresses, it would slowly burn away, but not before
lighting up a hundred cigarettes for the customers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p><br />
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span>
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In Kerala the tea leaves brewed in the tea boiler pan are
never boiled along with the milk. They are added separately.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As the tea leaves are set to boil in a boiler
fired by a noisy kerosene stove, another huge stainless-steel vessel is keeping
the boiled milk warm.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As the regular
customer arrives, Shaji instinctively knows his preferences. Black tea with
sugar for <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Unni chettan</i>, tea without
sugar but with milk for <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">colonel uncle</i>,
and equal proportions of milk and tea mixed with generous spoonfuls of sugar
for <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Rafiq bhai</i>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p><br />
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The occasional passerby who stops at his shop would need to
specify his preferences before Shaji can mix and match and dole out the hot
steaming glass out for him or her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When
you do not specify your preferences, you get a cup of tea that has seventy
percent strong boiled tea, twenty percent milk, half a teaspoon of sugar and
about ten percent froth that has been deftly frothed up by pouring out the
beverage from a height of two feet and above into another glass cup placed at
the tea counter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This action serves many
purposes like ensuring the mixing of tea, milk and sugar, bringing the beverage
to the right temperature for the customer to slowly and noisily sip the ten
percent froth generated<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>on top of the
glass cup and giving the tea boy his much needed exercise to build up his biceps
and sometimes even a six pack.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p><br />
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The regulars arrive one by one.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Initially there is an eerie silence around
the shop. No one is talking. Perhaps because they are grumpy or perhaps because
everyone is a regular and Shaji, like google knows their preferences based on
previous tea drinking history.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p><br />
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
They help themselves to a banana from the stalk or a piece
of the banana cake from the glass jar, pick up a cigarette and light it at the
burning end of the coir rope before picking up the steaming hot cup of tea
bubbling with froth that has been laid out for them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><br />
<br />
The morning cuppa is incomplete without that
vital ingredient, the local newspaper.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><br />
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghN2rmN5CfkMssvIvGHmmIIF1j7PNFpGhnTkHaQz54BRhn8Uit43g7P9rZlvANX7UumxC5sf9CNxNt3N9Nio99MPQoZdIAa0hMln405sAI_s-hNGOSmk-5pabM36wE8ziL6KGw/s1600/A+-+tea+shop+in+kerala+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="609" data-original-width="457" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghN2rmN5CfkMssvIvGHmmIIF1j7PNFpGhnTkHaQz54BRhn8Uit43g7P9rZlvANX7UumxC5sf9CNxNt3N9Nio99MPQoZdIAa0hMln405sAI_s-hNGOSmk-5pabM36wE8ziL6KGw/s400/A+-+tea+shop+in+kerala+3.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
<o:p></o:p><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
This morning the headlines is all about local member of
parliament’s cheeky remarks on flood relief operation and the Chief minister
retort on the MPs arm chair contribution while holidaying in a foreign country
during the flood relief operations.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
other half of the newspaper headlines is about a shoddy rescue operation during
the flood of a women’s hostel in the nearby town. <o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Opinions about who is right and who is wrong are divided
along political affiliations. As the regular customers slowly gather and sip
their cup of tea, the discussion gets louder and fierce. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
A passerby, un-initiated into local ways of political
analysis could get utterly bewildered by the happenings and would wonder if she
should dial the police as the situation could potentially turn violent. But
Shaji is unperturbed by the goings on. This is business as usual in his shop.
The argumentative Malayali’s hold on to their opinion and stubbornly stick to
their point of view. They take a dig at each other’s political parties, agree
to disagree, finish their morning cup of tea and go about their daily business.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Surprisingly a cup of
tea in the tea shops in the land of spices is devoid of any freshly added spice
like ginger, cinnamon or cardamom.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is
the local newspaper that adds all the spice. The otherwise strong cup of tea,
is spiced up by politics and makes for an intellectually enriching, interesting
and occasionally explosive conversation not just at the start of the day, but
throughout.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As the day light picks up, the traffic gets denser along the
NH49.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Local buses, expensive cars,
beastly motorbikes and creaky autorickshaws equally compete for space and speed
on this two-lane national highway.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><i><span style="color: red;">To be continued - Appam and Stew aboard NH49 </span></i></span></div>
<br /></div>
Jayanthi Gopalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04377793298308663704noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7103454.post-25150363220332121792019-03-26T10:42:00.002-07:002019-03-29T11:20:08.499-07:00Mobile Musings : the TTE - Travel ticket examiner <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #333333; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">In the good old days when travelling by train was the norm and
air travel was the privilege of the super rich, train travel was a thrilling adventure
in itself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #333333; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">Before you boarded a train, clutching your reserved ticket
it was only natural to check on who your co- passengers would be, in the
railway chart put up at the entrance to the coach.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #333333; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"> Their name, surname, age and gender that would be
printed on the chart, in English on one end of the coach and Hindi on the
other, gave out pretty much a rough outline of your co-passenger’s lineage
and other vital credentials. If there was any cause to worry, the Travel ticket
examiner ,(TTE) always dressed in white shirt, black trousers and a jet black
blazer unmindful of the weather conditions could always help you out. Sometimes
for a little extra money. </span><span style="color: #333333; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9ybztbq_MsCl995aoyL2gxpMdVXCGozSh1HxBM46SBfadwR40bUKokXjn5N56c14XjOX3cdxnxvadCFKiE1eC6pv_7kIAVczuLnSi4qUGcHkq5WG8eoL1cHmQdGOUjs0GuYqA/s1600/TTE+google+free+images.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="750" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9ybztbq_MsCl995aoyL2gxpMdVXCGozSh1HxBM46SBfadwR40bUKokXjn5N56c14XjOX3cdxnxvadCFKiE1eC6pv_7kIAVczuLnSi4qUGcHkq5WG8eoL1cHmQdGOUjs0GuYqA/s320/TTE+google+free+images.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="color: #333333; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Travel ticket Examiner (TTE) always came across as a stern
looking man who could make or break your train journey.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> Macho </span>men who otherwise had an authoritarian
command over the wife and the children or sometimes a much larger brood, begged
, bowed and talked in whispered tones and treated the TTE with utmost respect
and reverence. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You were mentally conditioned to assume that like taxi drivers,
auto drivers, bus drivers and conductors a TTE would always be a man. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Was pleasantly surprised seeing a woman TTE, aboard Kanyakumari
express travelling from Trivandrum to Bangalore. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCWRE1rxMsgrToVX9-9NPz7ycTMD9mvske1R3kEOMigs7bPMdo_-2YkwMrpMmXsNs3lLb0_uS905B_EoK9TpXgjH2H7cJ2VS_OiSx14soA3_cdUf45_6oh36Ir2d0DQqftYREl/s1600/IMG_20190312_143351.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCWRE1rxMsgrToVX9-9NPz7ycTMD9mvske1R3kEOMigs7bPMdo_-2YkwMrpMmXsNs3lLb0_uS905B_EoK9TpXgjH2H7cJ2VS_OiSx14soA3_cdUf45_6oh36Ir2d0DQqftYREl/s400/IMG_20190312_143351.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
A well dressed, young, fit and surprisingly friendly TTE at
that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In the days when the railway charts and physical tickets
have been done away with, all you need to do is to show your government issued
id proof and your TTE legitimizes your travel.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And that is exactly what I did.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I pulled up my Aadhar card and handed over. But I was still struggling
to open the IRCTC app on my mobile phone to show my ticket, due to a weak signal. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Meanwhile she politely returned
my Aadhar card and nodded her head and marked me on her chart. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She checked my co-passengers one by one and
then looked at me the second time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Are you travelling on Senior citizens concession’ she asked.
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
‘Of course not’, I replied as I once again pulled out my
mobile phone to produce the evidence that <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had indeed paid the full fare . <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 315.0pt;">
She mildly dismissed my protest,
but moved on nevertheless to the next carriage.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 315.0pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It was a strange question.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I was curious what triggered it off.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Truth be told, I was slightly hurt and wondered if I may have started looking like
a 60 year old. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Oh Well, a few
strands of grey hair here and there does not make you sixty years old. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Nor does it entitle you to a senior citizen concession ,
does it ?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I could not dismiss the thought and her strange question for
a long time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
About 20 minutes later she re appeared and offered her
explanation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When you book your tickets online on ‘irctc app’, if you are
a female passenger you have a choice of indicating your berth preferences. (
Female travelers could be pregnant, could be menstruating at that time , could
be travelling with young children or infants or even worse they may not have
waxed their legs ).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
If you ask for it, the built -in algorithm then allocates you
the lower berth as long as it is available.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The same algorithm is built in for senior citizens <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>irrespective
of their gender.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>( No wonder passengers
do not run around the all powerful TTE much these days to get their berth allotment
changed) <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The indication mark on the TTE’s computer generated chart for preferential
berth allotment is the same for women travelers as well as senior citizens.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was something the TTE aboard Kanyakumari
express, figured out that day. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
She was sweet enough to come and clarify it to me after she
had finished examining all the tickets in the compartment. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It is a woman to woman thing you see…. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Thank god for that magnanimous act of hers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It restored my self esteem .<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In those twenty minutes I almost relived the
pangs of an induced mid life crisis. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had almost made up my mind to go back and
color my hair black if not brown or a shade of blonde. I also contemplated exiting the 'growing grey gracefully (GGG) group in facebook. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Such is the fragile nature of the feminine kind. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Would a male TTE have bothered to come back, explain and
clarify ? <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Thank god for female TTE’s. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>May their Tribe increase<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p>P.S : </o:p>Male TTE : Photo courtesy : <a href="https://thelogicalindian.com/story-feed/awareness/duties-of-tte/" target="_blank">Google free images</a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
P.P.S : Female TTE : discreetly photographed by yours faithfully... </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
P.P,P.S : Since I was not pregnant, was not responsible to care
for any infants, was not <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>menstruating
and had had my legs waxed recently, I offered my lower berth to a tall, dark and
not exactly very handsome man in exchange of the side upper berth because he
was struggling to fit in his tall frame in that ‘side upper berth’<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>which Indian railways specifically designed
for the petite women who dare to climb berths.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>More about the glory of side upper berths in another post. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 315.0pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br /></div>
Jayanthi Gopalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04377793298308663704noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7103454.post-1208297802198908752019-03-22T03:35:00.000-07:002019-03-26T10:48:06.311-07:00Life on the slow track - Musings aboard the NH49<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjNJDNzK8LlDDlk17RKwQvJvFj8PhXclCJPy14LvhF1C58L_mc3jZrA_OcGwr6r0NKXIMuikgw3esH8pC5f3G67_dRs6PNZkzbtH9nDhWg1n6reLlVtVbshUoSUiondRVzTxxq/s1600/IMG_20181226_071544.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjNJDNzK8LlDDlk17RKwQvJvFj8PhXclCJPy14LvhF1C58L_mc3jZrA_OcGwr6r0NKXIMuikgw3esH8pC5f3G67_dRs6PNZkzbtH9nDhWg1n6reLlVtVbshUoSUiondRVzTxxq/s400/IMG_20181226_071544.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="WordSection1">
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="text-align: left;">A resplendent morning with a slightly overcast sky is
pregnant with numerous possibilities.</span><span style="text-align: left;"> </span><span style="text-align: left;">It
could be a bright sunny day, but it could possibly be a rainy day too.</span><span style="text-align: left;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
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<div class="MsoNormal">
It was the year when the memories were still fresh of the
fury and torment of the south west monsoons that had wreaked havoc along the
Malabar coast. Life was slowly limping back to normalcy. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Aid agencies pumped up
with donations from generous donors from the world over, volunteers wishing to
serve on the ground and most importantly the proud people of Kerala, humbled by
nature’s fury were putting their best efforts to return to near normalcy. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It was that time when the surviving victims
were putting the memories behind and picking up the threads to move on with
their lives.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The weathermen have now begun to be extra cautious with
their forecasts because they know there are more eyeballs focused on them than
on the prime-time television soap operas.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The monsoon season is not yet over and although they say lightning
seldom strikes twice, nobody could afford to take chances.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A passing cloud could become a deluge and a
high tide in the ocean could result in water logging in the plains. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYnHQES1bb8K-J1CrHIPEufDgej521XZ7PnrGScujGnrnIYVcW_UgZ-KbTwBxjNXwmDTdy3_N1vqCl5AlzHdUTSPk20tbp6zRZ89-tDk-qMfl5OvXWR0tFRjGbPXrq0WdY3tB2/s1600/IMG_20180824_102910.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYnHQES1bb8K-J1CrHIPEufDgej521XZ7PnrGScujGnrnIYVcW_UgZ-KbTwBxjNXwmDTdy3_N1vqCl5AlzHdUTSPk20tbp6zRZ89-tDk-qMfl5OvXWR0tFRjGbPXrq0WdY3tB2/s320/IMG_20180824_102910.jpg" width="240" /></a>It is just a few weeks since the floods. The furious monsoons have abated. The air force, army and the and aid agencies that descended down for the rescue operations have wound up and returned back home. It is now the time for government and people to pick up the ropes and act. The pot holed roads ravaged by the floods have been re-laid in a flash. The trash that now contains, once functional refrigerators, television sets, furniture, mattresses and wardrobes are getting burnt or recycled. </div>
</div>
<br />
<div class="WordSection1">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjNLMl1qCn-xpSVhjz98iB9GFToSIkFl1XNay-gXt6FcYHuED3zHCc0OkTzCEgEQn3BC8Ao2jK-q71cjSz-uf3llNCf4UMhYn39PcckJKeXtKkVsgJC601BMjEHC2nPAXFqRne/s1600/A+-+trash+after+the+floods+etc.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; display: inline !important; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="609" data-original-width="812" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjNLMl1qCn-xpSVhjz98iB9GFToSIkFl1XNay-gXt6FcYHuED3zHCc0OkTzCEgEQn3BC8Ao2jK-q71cjSz-uf3llNCf4UMhYn39PcckJKeXtKkVsgJC601BMjEHC2nPAXFqRne/s320/A+-+trash+after+the+floods+etc.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
People cutting across political affiliations have gathered up to ensure the roadways and railways are cleared up and are in working condition. They are the lifelines for connectivity across small towns that were crippled by the floods. Everyone knows that their collective effort in these times would restore normalcy in their lives. People realize that it is going to be a lot of back breaking work, however it must be done. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF4pxNUKoykSDvsF_RMJ-ZVz_5ZW1chj6DAwVXixaYeyowV2HD4anbdxmOgBTOh1wkx4M39QbVtZv-KV_5N1ooFnng2X8nfjVwH9rfOu4lNA2cjhyeRdYZvXFDRMkFd37BCr2k/s1600/A+-+colocasia+leaves.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="609" data-original-width="812" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF4pxNUKoykSDvsF_RMJ-ZVz_5ZW1chj6DAwVXixaYeyowV2HD4anbdxmOgBTOh1wkx4M39QbVtZv-KV_5N1ooFnng2X8nfjVwH9rfOu4lNA2cjhyeRdYZvXFDRMkFd37BCr2k/s400/A+-+colocasia+leaves.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Where there should have been greenery, it is all brown
patches of dried up banana trees and colocasia shrubs that were submerged in
the floods for longer than they could sustain themselves.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Landslides, uprooted trees, walls of mud huts
with thatched roofs dissolved into the clay along the river banks and decomposed
carcasses of dead cattle and livestock.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>They have all altered the geographical and economic landscape that an
entire generation had got accustomed to.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-no-proof: yes;"><v:shape id="Picture_x0020_13" o:spid="_x0000_i1025" style="height: 351pt; mso-wrap-style: square; visibility: visible; width: 468pt;" type="#_x0000_t75">
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</v:imagedata></v:shape></span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Such is the course of nature, reminisced the wise and
elderly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>‘Mother nature’s patience level
had been breached’ they cried hoarse. ‘They had seen more furious monsoons in
their life time, but this one was a disaster waiting to happen’, they said. Rampant
concrete constructions that came with development and defied local wisdom of
rain water harvesting and blocked the natural path of rain water flow along the
lake sides, on the ponds and river beds. They said that was the reason for the
wreckage caused by what would otherwise have been a season that saw a slightly
above average but manageable monsoon.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
‘It is the wrath of that celibate fellow from up the hills
let loose on the menstruating women’, some said. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
‘It is the El Nino’s southern oscillations and its
unpredictability’, cried out the weather scientists.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Callous Governments and corrupt town planners were
nevertheless blamed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
On the brighter side, the collective consciousness had risen
and the lesson was learnt.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Once in a few
decades, nature has its way of revising the fundamental lessons and remind the
mortal humans of their limitations. This year was once such year. <o:p></o:p></div>
</div>
<span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 125%;"><br clear="all" style="mso-break-type: section-break; page-break-before: always;" />
</span>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
No matter what, traumas heal, hope triumphs and life moves
on.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It is yet another dawn waiting to break along the NH49. The
sun, oblivious to the happenings along the Malabar coast this season, is
announcing its arrival of yet another day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The sky is blushing pink in various hues and colors.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSVSHUz3bSDMpvRNQPUBw4njxFL9paAPS9GoxhC6lQZCLkYCr8FcEysI_30MtETNK4zZTtJ7liPR9O4vi89B7jGl_QfV9aEWSmeFC9oXm4atKuSzyVvpO8U6QRd8npu1J7Sn7O/s1600/A+-+blushing+sky.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="609" data-original-width="812" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSVSHUz3bSDMpvRNQPUBw4njxFL9paAPS9GoxhC6lQZCLkYCr8FcEysI_30MtETNK4zZTtJ7liPR9O4vi89B7jGl_QfV9aEWSmeFC9oXm4atKuSzyVvpO8U6QRd8npu1J7Sn7O/s400/A+-+blushing+sky.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The brain fever bird perched atop the Gulmohar tree is screeching as if it picked up a sore throat in the heavy rains. The rooster is cooing announcing the arrival of the day.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
The fitness freaks have set out on their morning walks, perhaps the first one after many weeks.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The mosque is blaring on the loudspeaker its morning call for the aazaan and beckoning the faithful.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Competing with the loud speakers from the mosque is the loud rhythm of the drum beats from the nearby temple. Festivities although considerably subdued, are on the way. As the day progresses, the devotees would throng the temple to pray for better days and a brighter future. Hope sustains human kind. The worst is perhaps behind them and this is the time to rebuild and rejuvenate.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE27StSQdg4BVE9PI0P1yT8acNo5_j4_4yTfEvc03FRKGSnrcpaVsl3qybXeBQA_xhBlcPocHsU65c-ORvHkfUk-YASFfx0Db5FqqPlHfO__E7l4O5rkXP0tw44pttq-3dFq6z/s1600/A+-+appam+and+stew+aboard+HN49.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="609" data-original-width="457" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE27StSQdg4BVE9PI0P1yT8acNo5_j4_4yTfEvc03FRKGSnrcpaVsl3qybXeBQA_xhBlcPocHsU65c-ORvHkfUk-YASFfx0Db5FqqPlHfO__E7l4O5rkXP0tw44pttq-3dFq6z/s320/A+-+appam+and+stew+aboard+HN49.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Driving along the freshly laid out road along the NH 49 is a pleasure. It is a two-lane state highway that has been christened as the National highway 49. When travelling across Kerala, it feels like the town hardly ends to give way to the country side. Equally marveling is that the resplendent greenery is always peppered along the towns and across those quaint houses and tree lined streets. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Ostentatiously huge houses built from the money earned out of hard labour and loneliness and sent home from the oil rich countries in the gulf dot the National highway nestled amidst coconut groves and pepper plantations, lightly camouflaged by the girth of huge flowering trees. </div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Occasionally there are empty plots of land where colocasia
shrubs whose roots would have made a sumptuous meal after the monsoons, are
struggling to sprout and come to life after being submerged in the devastating
floods.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The lingering sunshine from the
morning sun is perhaps giving the much-needed hope and energy for the few that
have held on to life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Amidst the
dried-up brown and dry colocasia shrubs are a few green shoots sprouting from
the roots.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
On a tender colocasia leaf
is a rain drop dancing like a ball of mercury that has dropped from a broken
thermometer. <o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
.<i><span style="color: red;">..To be continued ... Musings Aboard the NH49 - Chaya kadai </span></i><br />
<br /></div>
Jayanthi Gopalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04377793298308663704noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7103454.post-11648410568656359022019-01-31T08:53:00.000-08:002019-01-31T08:56:18.950-08:00Cruising along the Konkan Railway – A tribute to George Fernandes<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
George Fernandes’s passing took me back the memory
lane. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglmNYHZ881vmCooyn4Em0MqSCyhRfTB3a_6nkqmKgHE43aXdeJbiSpuebHRp8kE3kzWsrVD4v9MXWC_EBWRbI5x1lSmUmwlL0NOA1RFGTZ1stSMv_M6pOvqoI_gLGyUyOQl0ua/s1600/k+george-fernandes-and-kokan-railway_201901188988.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="514" data-original-width="686" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglmNYHZ881vmCooyn4Em0MqSCyhRfTB3a_6nkqmKgHE43aXdeJbiSpuebHRp8kE3kzWsrVD4v9MXWC_EBWRbI5x1lSmUmwlL0NOA1RFGTZ1stSMv_M6pOvqoI_gLGyUyOQl0ua/s320/k+george-fernandes-and-kokan-railway_201901188988.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Like a true news junkie, after hearing about his passing, I
gobbled up everything that has been written about him over the internet and
covered by the media over the years.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Amidst all that juicy tabloid headlines about Jaya Jaitley
vs Leila Kabir standoff after George’s Alzheimer’s affliction, to the tehelka
controversy and varied opinions about the life and career of the firebrand
union leader from Mangalore, here was an article by E Sreedharan, the main
architect behind the Konkan railway (better known for his contribution towards
the Delhi Metro) about George Fernandes that touched a chord in me. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I felt like I owed him a tribute. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It took me twenty-five years back in my memory lane.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It was the year 1993.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I had boarded a rickety State transport
(ST) bus from Mumbai to Ratnagiri, in Konkan for a college project. In those days it would
take about twelve hours to reach through the tree lined state highway, up and
down the mountains to reach anywhere across the Konkan coast.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
That summer, the newspaper headlines were abuzz with Sanjay
Dutt’s arrest following the police seizing the infamous AK56 from his house. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
After the political turmoil that lasted nearly three to four
years, the Congress government was in power at the center. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But it was something else that is etched in my memory.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My host’s family owned acres of Alphonso mango orchards in a
small picturesque village about 10 kilometers from Ratnagiri towards Ganpati
pule, which was not a tourist destination then. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Every year, towards the end of
the harvest season they would travel back to their ancestral home <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>and host the ‘<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Aamras poori’</i> luncheon for their friends.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The fresh pulp of the ripe and aromatic
Alphonso mango from the orchards along with hot pooris would be the signature
dish served to the gathering. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
That year, among their invitees were Madhu Dandavate,
erstwhile MP from Konkan, his wife Pramila Dandavate and an unassuming man
called George Fernandes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As the star attraction
of the afternoon, all attention was turned towards Madhu Dandavate the former
finance minister and George Fernandes the former railway minister as they
talked about the future of <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Konkan
Railway and how it would change the economic and social landscape of the poverty
ridden Konkan region.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Those were the years when their government had been voted out and Congress was back in power. The future of the ambitious Konkan railway project was no more in the hands of those who had laid its foundation.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Most middle class Konkanis
like my host had migrated to Mumbai or Pune, while still retaining their roots and
ancestral property in Konkan.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
During the conversation George Fernandes, <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>said that every Konkani will be lured to
return home once Konkan railway was up and running.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
‘ <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Koknaacha
.. manoos kadhi kokanthoon door jaat nahi , punha to parat kadhi na kadhi yetoch</i>’ he said. ( The Man from Konkan, never leaves Konkan
permanently , he is destined to return home at some point in his life…) <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipJomEaMta8wEWOlWvtbrHdhSgUAZ1otXAP44pqMRAZS1GEomnVLJcSmXxLnJTaQtsOexXDnuyKIvdsZ5fxIikZl4Nct8Br17lVGuygnpbBD_pdIYbyo-6_GvXOwBUhwxOPPpa/s1600/konkan+railway.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="848" data-original-width="1118" height="302" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipJomEaMta8wEWOlWvtbrHdhSgUAZ1otXAP44pqMRAZS1GEomnVLJcSmXxLnJTaQtsOexXDnuyKIvdsZ5fxIikZl4Nct8Br17lVGuygnpbBD_pdIYbyo-6_GvXOwBUhwxOPPpa/s400/konkan+railway.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 388.15pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 388.15pt;">
Twenty five years later, I am not
sure if George Fernandes’s prophecy about <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Kokanaacha
Manoos</i> has come true, but the Konkan railway was now a reality. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 388.15pt;">
<br /></div>
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In the monsoons of 2018, I travelled the Malabar and Konkan
region, extensively through the Konkan railway network. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Sitting by the ‘<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Aapatkaalin
khi</i><i>dki</i>’ – the emergency window on the Karwar express aboard the Konkan
railway in an almost empty train on a weekday morning and watching the stations
pass by is an immensely enjoyable experience.
The Train passes through tunnels that have been pored out of the
manganese rich countryside along the Konkan and Malabar coast. Darkness engulfs
the entire compartment and kids and
adults alike let out that shrill shrieky noise that amplifies and echoes
through the tunnel. The noise immediately drops once the train emerges out of
the tunnel. </div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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Trains pass through tunnels the world over. But on the
Konkan railway network it is different. The richness of the mountains and its
landscape skirts past you at an unimaginably close distance especially in the
monsoons. In the monsoon season it could as well be a life and death experience
what with landslides and tree falls. But the experience is well worth it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>An entire waterfall could be at your arm’s
length from your train’s window and you cannot but be in awe of the engineering
marvel that must have gone in building this railway network drilling through
these treacherous and steep mountains and making it safe for people to travel. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Among the numerous tributes that have been pouring along for
George Fernandes, here is what E Sreedharan had to say about George Fernandes’ in
a note published on his 88<sup>th</sup> birthday on June 03 2018 about George’s
contribution to Konkan Railway. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: blue; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"><i>The West Coast Railway
– the name Konkan Railway was coined later – was expected to be 840 Kms long
and would cost about 1600 crores. The yearly railway budget for new lines used
to be 250 to 300 crores and there were 25 railway lines already under
construction. If West Coast Railway line is also added to this list Railway
could set apart only about Rs.20 to 25 crores each year for this new line. With
this share of allocation, the west coast railway would take 20/25 years for
completion. Therefore, a new strategy for raising funds for the project and for
its implementation was inevitable.<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: blue; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"><i>Then a new idea struck
me. Why should the Indian Railway take up this project at all? Why can’t this
project be executed by a Special Purpose Vehicle [SPV] in which all the four
States along its route viz Maharashtra, Goa, Karnataka and Kerala could be
equity partners on a BOT (Build, Operate & Transfer basis? In that case the
four Governments need to contribute 1,/3 of the project cost and remaining 2/3
can be borrowed from the market. The SPV would then handle this project instead
of Indian Railways.<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: blue; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"><i>I had an opportunity
to place this proposal in front of Sri George Fernandez over breakfast on
02.01.1990 at Raj Bhawan, Lucknow where we had gone for inaugurating the
construction of Chithoni Bagha bridge. Being a shrewd administrator rather than
a politician, he jumped to grab this proposal wholeheartedly. Within 2 days of
our return to Delhi, he was able to get the clearance from the Finance Minister
Sri Madhu Dandavate, vice chairman Planning commission Sri Ramakrisha Hegde –
both hailing from the Konkan region and finally the nod from the Prime Minister
Sri V. P. Singh.<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: blue; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"><i>Sri George Fernandez
thereafter directed me to contact the 4 State Governments, get their consent
for equity participation in the project and get an agreement executed between
the Indian Railways and the 4 State Governments. Even though Konkan Railway
does not touch Kerala State, Government of Kerala magnanimously came forward to
participate in the project. The proposal was then taken to the union Cabinet
and the project was included in the Railways works programme for the year
1990-91, Thereafter a company was floated under the name Konkan Railway
Corporation Ltd which had the responsibility to carryout final location survey,
prepare estimate, raise funds from the market and execute the project.
Following my retirement from Railways on 30.06.1990, Sri George Fernandez
appointed me as the first chairman-cum-Managing Director of Konkan Railway
Corporation Ltd. The rest is history.<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: blue; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"><i>During his tenure as
Railway Minister, he gave full support to this huge railway project. Even after
he moved out of Railway Ministry as Defence Minister, and Later out of
government of India, the same guidance and support was forthcoming. Konkan
Railway, though passing through one of the most difficult terrains ever
encountered in the history of Railway construction in India got completed in a
record short period of 7 years.<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: blue; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"><i>Hailing from the
Konkan region, Konkan Railway was a dream for Sri George Fernandez. The very
decisive steps he took as Railway Minister and financing strategy employed made
his dream come true. This country would not have got this most useful railway
line, which reduced travel time by 12 hours and travel distance by 650 Kms, but
for his vision and passion.<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"><i><span style="color: blue;">The country is
indebted to this genius for all time to come and Konkan Railway will remain as
an everlasting achievement of Sri George Fernandes.</span><span style="color: #666666;"><o:p></o:p></span></i></span></div>
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<o:p style="background-color: transparent; text-align: left;">h</o:p><span style="background-color: transparent; text-align: left;">ttp://www.georgefernandes.org/the-institution-builder/</span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: #a4a4a4; font-family: "lato" , serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 107%;">File photo of former Prime
Minister AB Vajpayee inaugurating the Konkan Railway at Ratnagiri, in 1998,
with George Fernandes (extreme left), then Defence Minister, and the Chief
Ministers of Maharashtra, Goa, Karnataka and Kerala in attendance</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: #a4a4a4; font-family: "lato" , serif; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 107%;">Reference: </span></div>
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<o:p> <a href="https://www.thehindubusinessline.com/news/national/whk4k/article26122131.ece/alternates/WIDE_435/BL30BACKKONKANRAILWAY" target="_blank">https://www.thehindubusinessline.com/news/national/whk4k/article26122131.ece/alternates/WIDE_435/BL30BACKKONKANRAILWAY</a></o:p></div>
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Jayanthi Gopalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04377793298308663704noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7103454.post-77073649037527643832018-12-29T01:10:00.000-08:002018-12-29T01:10:12.112-08:00Horn Not ok please <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Horn <s>Not</s> ok
please <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">( Buri Nazar wale tera
muh kaala …) <o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZRvQHmY9QLLcDHXEmJtrqIO7h3Dxmhib9kSA1qiUHRVkDDjkNAmjDM1EvQARayAhDPVVE0asjuGw__BLp6d9FxOhA9_gkm2bNBmM9lqLJyHFvEaLb_WxmyH8oqsHfTTq3bmGV/s1600/Horn-OK-Please.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZRvQHmY9QLLcDHXEmJtrqIO7h3Dxmhib9kSA1qiUHRVkDDjkNAmjDM1EvQARayAhDPVVE0asjuGw__BLp6d9FxOhA9_gkm2bNBmM9lqLJyHFvEaLb_WxmyH8oqsHfTTq3bmGV/s400/Horn-OK-Please.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">An entire generation
if not a couple of generations in India have grown up mildly wondering what <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><u>‘Horn ok please’</u></i> meant. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Along with <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><u>Buri nazar wale tera muh kaala</u></i> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Translated in the
literal sense it means<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">'Hey you with evil intent... your face is black'</span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; float: none; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">Sounds like poor translation. Actually it means - hey if you're thinking about messing around with me, well.... bad for
you because if you do so, you'll be in trouble. </span></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; float: none; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; float: none; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">So much machoism packed in just six words. </span></span><br />
<span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; float: none; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; float: none; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><i style="color: #222222; font-size: 16px;"><u>Buri nazar wale tera muh kaala</u></i></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">We knew what
is meant in the literal sense, but it is the context that eludes many. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Never mind, some
things are better left untranslated.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Written not in the
Devanagari ( Hindi) script<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>but in the Anglo Saxon ( English) script India’s truck manufacturers have always maintained a
standard. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">As the massive macho
beast of Trucks traverse through the hinterland of India where the majority of
the illiterate population can hardly decipher the Devanagari script leave alone
the queens language, <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>‘<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Horn ok please’</i> <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>and ‘<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Buri
nazar wale tera muh kaala’</i> have pretty much remained entrenched in the
vocabulary of our National highways. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH5Guoel7D1syAXzB7bUMlg6GWPH7QD06tpi86LOudMl1UDopt0eLgvxsJg9MpMzonWxck13qOeruW4fHzyfsZIK_IssSaB4lK7zCYu2gAEOid6WwFYpVUypw-fmUl-N4oKxiz/s1600/buri+nazar+wale+tera+muh+kaala.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="155" data-original-width="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH5Guoel7D1syAXzB7bUMlg6GWPH7QD06tpi86LOudMl1UDopt0eLgvxsJg9MpMzonWxck13qOeruW4fHzyfsZIK_IssSaB4lK7zCYu2gAEOid6WwFYpVUypw-fmUl-N4oKxiz/s1600/buri+nazar+wale+tera+muh+kaala.jpg" /></a></div>
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Ah. Not to forget the
lotus that is painted in various hues and colors on top, below or besides the
middle word OK on posterior of that beastly truck. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Many an arm-chair <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>intellectual across the sub-continent has
tried to decipher and decode the inner meaning and hidden philosophy
behind<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>‘<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Horn ok please’</i> <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>and ‘<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Buri nazar wale tera muh kaala’<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Here is one such humble attempt by yet another one. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">In the good old days
the Lotus was not just the symbol of a struggling political party that was to
see better days in the future, but also the brand of a bathing soap that the
TATA group manufactured and successfully sold along the hinterlands of
India. </span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">That is how every TATA truck would have OK painted right in
the middle under which was TATA inscribed as the manufacturer of the
vehicle as well as the bathing soap. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Horn Please was a
simple plea by the driver of the heavy and long vehicle to alert him if you
were planning to overtake him. Those were not the days of eight lane national
highways. There was not even a divider or lane markings in much of the state
highways. The truck driver had his blind spots and so it was only fair that
you honked or rather blew the horn and let him know you were getting ahead of
him. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">A small piece of
publicity for <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">TATA- ka-OK-dhulaai-ka-
saabun</i> was the beginning of what today is known as brand placement in the
world of marketing and advertising. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Tata ka ok dhulai ka sabun, like any other fast moving consumer good, had a relatively short life span and died a natural death. However the symbol remained. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Somehow vehicles
manufactured not only by the TATA motors but also their competitors Ashok Leyland,
Eicher and others followed suit with BLOW HORN and HORN OK PLEASE became the mantra of highway
driving with a colourful lotus painted in between. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Buri nazar waale tera
muh kaala in the Anglo saxon script still requires more research before we can
decode the symbolism and solve the a mystery. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Let us concentrate on Horn OK please. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">We horny Indians like
to blow the horn. </span><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Let us keep it simple, we like to honk. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Honking for us is not
just that universal expression among drivers worldwide of showing the middle
finger or calling out err...a certain anatomy of the other driver’s mother or
sisters… pchhh…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Our driving schools teach
us to honk. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">We need to honk
when we are at crossroads<o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">We need to honk when
we want to overtake the vehicle ahead of us. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">We need to honk when we make catcalls (eve teasing as we call it locally) at that sissy female
driver as we pass along. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/2huhKXidig0/0.jpg" frameborder="0" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/2huhKXidig0?feature=player_embedded" style="clear: right; float: right;" width="320"></iframe><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Honking is a part of
our macho tradition. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">The instrument called the horn that used to be fitted
out in our autorickshaws and our lorries and trucks and possibly in our ambassador
cars <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>was possibly conceptualized and <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>designed by a very horny teenager. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">In a sexually
repressed country like ours the auto driver and the lorry driver seek some </span></div>
much
needed relief by frequently pressing the horn. <o:p></o:p><br />
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Blowing the Horn is
entrenched in our </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj57SIHJmFDS4xdn7WKCHkdguDKNu-Jknnj8N3369rIai8FQumwVWbuGindNR_upfeKhfcHNtOqCRBZN9_ATEOTSTq4Tgr4t-t8IajsnDqA6sUQikLUDNxhVt5BBYIF9EEBtiTy/s1600/Horny+indian.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="825" height="193" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj57SIHJmFDS4xdn7WKCHkdguDKNu-Jknnj8N3369rIai8FQumwVWbuGindNR_upfeKhfcHNtOqCRBZN9_ATEOTSTq4Tgr4t-t8IajsnDqA6sUQikLUDNxhVt5BBYIF9EEBtiTy/s320/Horny+indian.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">culture. Admittedly we did not have so many vehicles on the
road like we have today. No one really complained about noise pollution and
there were other sources of pollution to battle with. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">But things are
changing and India is shining.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">It is getting cooler
these days. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">We now have
airconditioned cars and buses and possibly trucks and autorickshaws in the future.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">So here comes BEST (
Bombay electric supply and Transport) the public transport provider to the
Maximum city asking us to make a change that might bring about some mutation to
our cultural and genetic makeup. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">‘Horn NOT ok please’… <o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjY4gjYLvFAYFbQFs1L8-kFDYo973dMfCKmFWMLq-7dye9nI8b2SmeoUmqvhhmQiAmdvOXIWzXR2yUjPkIWJNXWi1AnaUe5oK3ROliGVAKtxtgU96-F3SEXhgQM9Kny8xhelo9/s1600/horn+not+ok+please.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="375" data-original-width="600" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjY4gjYLvFAYFbQFs1L8-kFDYo973dMfCKmFWMLq-7dye9nI8b2SmeoUmqvhhmQiAmdvOXIWzXR2yUjPkIWJNXWi1AnaUe5oK3ROliGVAKtxtgU96-F3SEXhgQM9Kny8xhelo9/s320/horn+not+ok+please.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb6FSbtnBeuN_m3o5ja5CqmkyKhIeC2_FIsitmijZMnfOXdxyqZwlXRCF1tJrgkO0c4HjOBqHXqCn2HFkBTsCVxfiyAO53kVtuhgXAKWWvLKippQeijuAeh6siYBehPbqkLB77/s1600/horn+not+ok+please+best+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="609" data-original-width="812" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb6FSbtnBeuN_m3o5ja5CqmkyKhIeC2_FIsitmijZMnfOXdxyqZwlXRCF1tJrgkO0c4HjOBqHXqCn2HFkBTsCVxfiyAO53kVtuhgXAKWWvLKippQeijuAeh6siYBehPbqkLB77/s320/horn+not+ok+please+best+2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">All of Maharashtra
apparently has now imposed a ban on that intriguing phrase… <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Horn OK please and coined a new one </span><br />
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Horn NOT ok please. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">And your first reaction
… <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Huh. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Good luck BEST and
Rahul Dravid, TATA T20 and all the rest of their bandwagon. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWGMGDtzB7_4UCNmi0HCxbG4Zce_CuBVdTyEQmh1EoV7vKVYW505L-PxXSIOLD9mIneTdC_4js2ifMniyCmFyM39Q6wi0bhjXxyK2wbicvhUsuoh7A0TEjE1A6Bm3OhGL6Qk2K/s1600/horn+not+ok+please+best1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="609" data-original-width="812" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWGMGDtzB7_4UCNmi0HCxbG4Zce_CuBVdTyEQmh1EoV7vKVYW505L-PxXSIOLD9mIneTdC_4js2ifMniyCmFyM39Q6wi0bhjXxyK2wbicvhUsuoh7A0TEjE1A6Bm3OhGL6Qk2K/s320/horn+not+ok+please+best1.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">But then on second thoughts,
as much as it is difficult to change something inherent in our culture, the change
has to begin some day … some time. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">And their awareness campaign
is <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>much needed at this point in
time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">We need lane discipline
and much more quiet and peace on the roads. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">Our roads and our
buses are rather noisy places to be in and we can surely do with less noise and
more speed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">So without much ado
let us wish the “Horn NOT ok please’ campaign all the very best and to all those the
skeptics </span><br />
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;">‘ Bure nazar walon … tumhara muh kaala’ !!! <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">Here goes a couple of other straight forward phrases on the posterior of the trucks that does not need much of explanation. </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">Enjoy. </span></span></div>
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Jayanthi Gopalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04377793298308663704noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7103454.post-40573810893372751202018-10-15T07:44:00.000-07:002018-10-15T08:11:36.337-07:00Strawberries and Cream at Wimbledon <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<br />
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Sometime in July this year, my google notification popped up
and asked me to click on the link showcasing the photos of this day, ten years ago.<br />
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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Intrigued… I click on the link and traverse down the memory
lane. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br />
04<sup>th</sup> of July 2008 …<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p><br />
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></div>
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It all began the previous day over an innocent remark about
some article on that day’s tabloid about the happenings at Wimbledon.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>With exams drawing to a close we had a little
breather and were thinking of chilling out.<br />
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span>
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">Feeni, m</span>y classmate from Pakistan suggested we give it a go. As students on shoe string we thought the tickets would be expensive . Wimbledon in my mind was also associated with a place where the
high and mighty of the corporate worlds and the socialite’s hob-nob while they
watch the Tennis matches as well.</div>
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<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
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One of our friends educated us. While it was a place where
the who’s who possessed season tickets year on year to watch the best of matches at the center court, everyday, there were
tickets available for as low as ten pounds, for tennis lovers which let you
enter and watch any match at the Wimbledon championships except the center court. However, we were warned the queue would be
long and the wait much longer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Moreover,
there was no guarantee that we would get the tickets to enter the championships
leave alone the center court.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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Even if we did, we would get to see some inconsequential match at the
Wimbledon and tick it off our bucket list. <o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTuuDilkEgZ7rjA_b4GRZ6xfKxePQLCL8i42qYcH-FvBUbNP37HKnLNR4JjySfXZAjeTJCF6-leUEEZGqJDyQkTX_dMfOfvbTPy9-_2uYpI7eho4Vngh1qNWlGStjNyRu74HSL/s1600/wimbledon+queue.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="604" data-original-width="452" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTuuDilkEgZ7rjA_b4GRZ6xfKxePQLCL8i42qYcH-FvBUbNP37HKnLNR4JjySfXZAjeTJCF6-leUEEZGqJDyQkTX_dMfOfvbTPy9-_2uYpI7eho4Vngh1qNWlGStjNyRu74HSL/s320/wimbledon+queue.jpg" width="239" /></a></div>
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Thus, began our conquest to the Wimbledon on that warm and
bright day at 6.00 am in the morning.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>By
about 7.30 am we were at the Wimbledon entrance and were astonished at the
queue.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There were students like us and
tennis lovers from all over the world who would not be able to afford a proper
Wimbledon season ticket, but were committed nevertheless to watch the sport. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It was English summer and the sun had risen early.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There was a slight nip in the air when we
joined the serpentine queue to try our luck with the subsidized tickets.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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We were not too disappointed. Our ticket queue numbers were 242
AND 243. Going by the sleeping bags and mats, we guessed the ones much ahead
of us were the ones who had come really early in the morning or had camped
overnight.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p><br />
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span>
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span>
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></div>
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For me and Feeni, my classmate from Pakistan it was a part
of our blind list.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We just wanted to be
there and experience it all. We did not follow Tennis and were not a great fan
of the sport. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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Setting out to a place you have never been to before, to
have no expectation and to just go with the flow is the best part of the ‘blind
list’.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It can never be a list, but just
an agenda to be open and go with the flow.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>That is what we were determined to do that day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaU1ZX6-mKTp_yI_atnb-2uaduNrcRNymAffLLmEQxIMk0XEOH4yPztSegxB9pmxLBaaXPpQXRT1NF6nZQyc_ig8sKKLs04kovxPiOydcajXMESq0cHnGOKqWA3bBcJYErpzUB/s1600/s818895180_3488012_3493.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="130" data-original-width="97" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaU1ZX6-mKTp_yI_atnb-2uaduNrcRNymAffLLmEQxIMk0XEOH4yPztSegxB9pmxLBaaXPpQXRT1NF6nZQyc_ig8sKKLs04kovxPiOydcajXMESq0cHnGOKqWA3bBcJYErpzUB/s200/s818895180_3488012_3493.jpg" width="148" /></a>Killing and indefinite amount of time waiting for our turn
was not difficult at all. <o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
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Me and Feeni got talking.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>We were not thick friends, just acquaintances as we attended a few
classes together.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She was from Pakistan,
but bore a striking resemblance to a Malayali colleague of mine from my previous
job in India and every time I saw her I would wonder if they were twins.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p><br />
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></div>
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When we got talking she said her ancestors were from India
and while she did does not remember the place where they were from, they spoke
a language that could be spelled just the same from left to right. That
confirmed to me the ethnic connections.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Feeni
spoke Urdu and English.<br />
<br />
Not a word of Malayalam. <o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
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It may sound cliched, but only as we got talking, I realized
there were so many culturally common things between people of the two countries or for that matter all of the world. World over people are driven by the same things. A sense of identity, the need to be loved and to love.<br />
<br />
Where we
differed as we steered our discussion was when we got talking about politics, history and particularly the
Partition of 1947. Feeni had her perspective on the partition while I had mine. This is what our respective history books and television programs had taught us. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p><br />
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></div>
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That opened me up to a very different perspective that I had
not imagined earlier.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> No matter how open we think we are, we </span>are all so
limited by our view of the world around us!!!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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By about 10.30am the gates to Wimbledon opened for the day. We were given to understand that depending upon the number of ticket holders and pass holders that were visiting, the queue for the
subsidized tickets would be cleared.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In short,
we were dependent on how many socialites and the corporate big wigs decide to
visit Wimbledon and watch some tennis that day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Luckily it was a week day, and early in the Wimbledon season. We were
hopeful.<o:p></o:p><br />
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I finished reading ‘A thousand splendid suns' by Khalid Hosseini
which was in the best-selling list of that year while we lay on a sleeping mat
taking in the warmth of English summer. It was a hard-hitting book and its
melancholy lingered on much after I had finished the last page.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Not a great mind set to have for an exciting day ahead, I
thought to myself, desperately hoping that the queue ahead of us would clear up
and we would get to go inside. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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A few hours on, my wishes would come true. It is about mid
afternoon and we get to enter the Lawn tennis championships entrance gate.<br />
<br />
It was a riot thereafter.<br />
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At the 'today's match fixtures' board we note the qualifying matches for the day. Federer, Nadal were part of
the day's fixtures. Martina Navratilova and Leander Paes, two of my favorites were
going to play a mixed doubles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But the
icing on the cake was a Ladies doubles quarter final match between <span style="background: white; color: #545454; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;">N </span><em><b><span style="background: white; color: #6a6a6a; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-style: normal;">Dechy / </span></b></em><span style="background: white; color: #545454; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;">C Dellacqua</span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "droid sans" , serif; font-size: 11.5pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span>and S Williams / <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>V Williams at the center court later in the
evening. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p><br />
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></div>
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It was one hell of a garden party. The lawns, the gardens
and the wooden benches had people sprawled over them with their picnics. The
tennis matches seemed like a poor excuse. The point was to enjoy the sun, strawberry,
cream and champagne. <o:p></o:p><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4ylcRSfRh89G6hmfxJY43Jv0VEx8XA46u2d2SB7ehtQm_rEg-YRtCd-culMh17BkFg6DjNaP7ce7rKVy2a8lWA4IiG0dM3OxJls7Kos1usmNYpXdL24US24RK-2ILU0OpsICh/s1600/free+strawbeeries+and+cream+.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1198" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4ylcRSfRh89G6hmfxJY43Jv0VEx8XA46u2d2SB7ehtQm_rEg-YRtCd-culMh17BkFg6DjNaP7ce7rKVy2a8lWA4IiG0dM3OxJls7Kos1usmNYpXdL24US24RK-2ILU0OpsICh/s320/free+strawbeeries+and+cream+.jpg" style="cursor: move;" width="239" /></a></div>
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The sun was shining and HSBC was offering free strawberry and
cream for their account holders. I have never been a prouder customer of HSBC. Through
the day, I helped myself thrice with bowls of Strawberry and cream flashing my
credit card, debit card and my flexi card. Those were the good old days when we
were oblivious to the Global financial crisis that would hit the banks, world
over in just a month ahead in August 2008. Those were days of opulence and plenty
and so the free Strawberry and cream flowed. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Apparently Strawberry and cream were introduced as a
tradition in Wimbledon in 1877 and served to about 200 spectators.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><br />
<br />
History has it that Wimbledon’s connection with Strawberries and cream began during the
reign of King Henry VIII. Thomas Wolsey, a powerful figure in the king’s court,
served the dish at a banquet in 1509.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Later,
Wolsey built a grand palace that is known today as the Hampton Court Palace. It
was here that Strawberries and cream were served to the spectators who came to
the Royal Tennis court. By the time the first Wimbledon tournament began in 1877,
strawberries and cream were trendy and in season given it was summer. It was
considered a delicacy and given its limited shelf life, it became a favorite
among the wealthy spectators who patronized the sport. <span style="color: #222222; font-family: "droid sans" , serif; font-size: 11.5pt; line-height: 107%;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhLPVusidqDCb3ZQu3F8S-kaiVKskQP8BIFmenx-qTuM1lWJNGtcay5TFixZLf9mB3D7iYSqWf42N0vMLstuj10qvl3TZBM_lXmwleTU7XPon56KtLHLfgPbyPzaMCvQwwNfQF/s1600/martina.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhLPVusidqDCb3ZQu3F8S-kaiVKskQP8BIFmenx-qTuM1lWJNGtcay5TFixZLf9mB3D7iYSqWf42N0vMLstuj10qvl3TZBM_lXmwleTU7XPon56KtLHLfgPbyPzaMCvQwwNfQF/s320/martina.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
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<br />
I was thrilled to watch Leander Paes and Martina Navratilova pair up for
a mixed doubles match at one of the outer courts.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Later in the evening, we managed to get a free entry pass into the center court. (if the center court is not full, some
entry passes are given to subsidized ticket holders to enter the center court
for a limited period of time to watch the match in progress.)<o:p></o:p></div>
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I could not believe my good fortune as Serena and Venus Williams made
their entry for a doubles match against Nathalie Dechy and Casey Dellacqua for the
ladies’ doubles quarter finals.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Up and close to Venus and Serena Williams at
the Wimbledon center court made it feel truly surreal.</div>
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The day ended on a really high note as the Williams sisters effortlessly
won the quarter finals match. <o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYCaVg-0EL8Xs6Jz050CHEJctvcQP_g3-0fcxoQ_1lpMo5Z65NMV85oz29CUVZFQGrSwWTCHLXoWGYQ25zi1xCj7TJP9_vXJNHqXAXHBCVVkW2PUEsGLwEuJ4xO9Dlon2KE8_F/s1600/williams+sisters.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYCaVg-0EL8Xs6Jz050CHEJctvcQP_g3-0fcxoQ_1lpMo5Z65NMV85oz29CUVZFQGrSwWTCHLXoWGYQ25zi1xCj7TJP9_vXJNHqXAXHBCVVkW2PUEsGLwEuJ4xO9Dlon2KE8_F/s400/williams+sisters.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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That is what happens when you open yourself to possibilities that you
think did not exist. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5xHPYO8hM2-4-EB8KF6Rfzr3EwZv28iE0SIp2zxmjbqVUc4RwZmeQxSgBY2n4ozKYk7c20derRsOlEHBvimeM9DglVBWp9R13dtyJVuP2yNnDAE66CbVxZKKWCXVjY0MU0IGm/s1600/s818895180_3488025_7848.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="130" data-original-width="97" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5xHPYO8hM2-4-EB8KF6Rfzr3EwZv28iE0SIp2zxmjbqVUc4RwZmeQxSgBY2n4ozKYk7c20derRsOlEHBvimeM9DglVBWp9R13dtyJVuP2yNnDAE66CbVxZKKWCXVjY0MU0IGm/s200/s818895180_3488025_7848.jpg" width="148" /></a>Who would have thought as a student on a shoe string budget, I would get
to watch Venus and Serena Williams at Wimbledon center court if I had not
listened around and made it to the Wimbledon on a whim. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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Excited, contended and tired by the end of the day, I stepped out of
Wimbledon but not before picking up another free bowl of Strawberry and cream
at the HSBC counter before stepping out and heading to the Southfields tube
station. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
This post is my submission for Lufthansa's exciting new campaign<br />
<br />
<br />
<strong style="background-color: #031a4c; box-sizing: border-box; color: white; font-family: "Open Sans", sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">#TheBlindList and #SayYesToTheWorld, </strong></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe width="320" height="266" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/3g6dDFy3d8o/0.jpg" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/3g6dDFy3d8o?feature=player_embedded" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe></div>
<br />
https://youtu.be/3g6dDFy3d8o</div>
Jayanthi Gopalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04377793298308663704noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7103454.post-91917046002720430262018-10-12T02:42:00.001-07:002018-10-12T23:54:22.596-07:00Lifestraw water purifier - a reliable travel companion.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Before I eventually quit my day job, I would spend many months day dreaming and drawing
up a wish list of where I wanted to travel and what I wanted to hoard up as part of my travel gear.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></div>
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Stuck in peak hour traffic on the Outer ring road I would
drool over the huge billboards from Decathlon and Wildcraft with backpacks and
travel gears sported by chic models with unbelievably flat bellies. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg1fXC1PutDI9mWXdnAZa87zJpKVrs6k0kKH592dBuWlNZxOysmsrRAptFeRQtOirn_Xy9XxsTMfo9Rnch87WNwxsUmdzTlDTowDTjHmWv-k2smGea_uSeSJdQDFsR0NnyxH0J/s1600/IMG_20180914_122836.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg1fXC1PutDI9mWXdnAZa87zJpKVrs6k0kKH592dBuWlNZxOysmsrRAptFeRQtOirn_Xy9XxsTMfo9Rnch87WNwxsUmdzTlDTowDTjHmWv-k2smGea_uSeSJdQDFsR0NnyxH0J/s400/IMG_20180914_122836.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
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‘Mera number … kub aayega…’ I would say to myself and sigh,
as the private bus behind me would honk and wake me from my day dreaming
slumber . <o:p></o:p></div>
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But like they say… be careful what you wish for, because wishes
can come true. <o:p></o:p></div>
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And here I was, just a few days to go before my stint in that cubicle
jungle would come to an end.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I knew
there were no more of those fat paychecks coming into my bank account for a long
time now. The income and expenditure had to be tightly balanced. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></div>
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Whatever indulgences with money had to be made, it had to be
made right then. My wish list of Amazon and flipkart had plenty of items from a
trendy backpack to herbal mosquito repellants. But the most alluring among them
was ‘Life straw’ water purifier. <o:p></o:p></div>
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The portable water purifier that travelers carried with them
came from different brands.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Some Indian
and some imported.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had set LifeStraw
up on my wish list and had done considerable research on other brands and the
product reviews by other travelers about life straw.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></div>
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Then, on a whim I purchased it. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Partly because I did not want to spend money buying bottled
mineral water and wanted to travel to places where bottled water would not be
available. But mainly, I was conscious of the menace that the use and throw plastic
has been creating everywhere in the world. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBmq11lKgq0I0O-jeWp23cHijVKbgN9aRkJ7tOodfzZs91U_HTGsAqbHPWRik_M7jipDNibND4-Q_7m6CX8Cnr8Y0-nQts2MncKPn-6UvlUOj0BENdjPhk9L0kMTtyFCdxRFmM/s1600/images.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="150" data-original-width="335" height="143" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBmq11lKgq0I0O-jeWp23cHijVKbgN9aRkJ7tOodfzZs91U_HTGsAqbHPWRik_M7jipDNibND4-Q_7m6CX8Cnr8Y0-nQts2MncKPn-6UvlUOj0BENdjPhk9L0kMTtyFCdxRFmM/s320/images.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div>
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My city being the worse of them all.
We do not know if what we throw does get recycled or gets dumped in some
farmers fertile field in the garbage dumps outside the city. Reuse and recycle
is all fine. Fundamentally we need to reduce the production of plastic as much as we
can. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was the peak of
monsoon seasons when I started travelling. I travelled across the western Ghats
along the Konkan and Malabar coast in the monsoon of 2018.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxly30Otk3XGVRZxc7wTtDz_DbiGSjaeGXWIzRzEmNJiythXLd-dEb4QIToy6TaHZKnYnSd7bMeacXLBmhqwubXIgWpOycWfrQ4FfnvLlwe6gO4G2Iobl2MJPVCuLyWfnxKB2A/s1600/IMG_20181003_084515.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxly30Otk3XGVRZxc7wTtDz_DbiGSjaeGXWIzRzEmNJiythXLd-dEb4QIToy6TaHZKnYnSd7bMeacXLBmhqwubXIgWpOycWfrQ4FfnvLlwe6gO4G2Iobl2MJPVCuLyWfnxKB2A/s320/IMG_20181003_084515.jpg" width="240" /></a>From the water streams formed in the rains up the Kodachadri mountains in Kollur,
to road side restaurants on the way to <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Udupi, Kochi, Nashik, Pune and many other
small towns, my lifestraw water purifier has been filled in with water from
every conceivable source, including the drinking water outlets of railways
stations of <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Pune Junction, Ernakulam
junction or Mavellikara. </div>
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<br /></div>
<o:p></o:p><br />
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If there was one place where I did not test my Lifestraw
water purifier, it was in Aranmula in Kerala . This was a place we went to for
flood relief work a week after the devastating flood had submerged that quaint temple
town into water.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span>Ironically the wells
which were the main water source in this small town were declared unfit for use
as there was bleach sprinkled everywhere to avoid outbreak of diseases from the
dead livestock that may have decomposed in the floods. </div>
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There was a high chance
this could cause many water borne diseases.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Aid agencies and the government had supplied abundant supplies of of
bottled mineral water for the residents and the volunteers alike, until such
time the place was restored to normalcy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Sadly, all those empty water bottles may find their way back into the
Pampa river.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></div>
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On a personal level, I had to make sure I did not drink
bottled water even if that was a situation that could be treated as an
exception.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I lived on that one bottle of
water from LifeStraw for an entire day just to prove the point. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<o:p> </o:p>The journey so far has been great. And my LifeStraw water purifier has been my
constant companion.</div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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In the jungles, especially in the monsoon this year water has been in abundance and I could not thank my Lifestraw water purifier bottle enough for helping me travel light.</div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
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Despite all the travelling, I have not fallen sick in the last three months. … touchwood’ (For those who have known me before this time, you know how often I fell ill and how long it took me to recuperate every time I was down with a cold or a flu).</div>
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Please watch this YouTube video of mine that sums up my experience.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<o:p> </o:p> </div>
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<br /></div>
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/z87wVx_c1WI/0.jpg" frameborder="0" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/z87wVx_c1WI?feature=player_embedded" width="320"></iframe></div>
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LifeStraw water purifier works. I can vouch for that. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Although it comes in various other sizes and colour , mine is a one-liter
bottle capable of filling about 650ml of water since the in-built straw takes up
the rest of the space.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></div>
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I would highly recommend Lifestraw (or any other instant
water purifier) to anyone who wants to stay away from buying the use and throw bottled
mineral water <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Lifestraw has a water purifying filter that kills all the
protozoa, bacteria and other particles that could come into contact with the
filter. The filter is inserted into the bottle like a straw. It can filter
upto<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>a thousand litres of water before
you need to change the purifier. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>LifeStraw and various other brands are available on Amazon.in<o:p></o:p></div>
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P.S : <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Just in
case you are wondering, LifeStraw water purifier manufacturers are not paying
me anything to write this post. (Although I would not <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>mind if they did <span style="font-family: "segoe ui emoji" , sans-serif; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-char-type: symbol-ext; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-symbol-font-family: "Segoe UI Emoji";">😊</span>
) . </div>
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It was just a curious comment from Vinod Majumdar on facebook that triggered this post. Thanks Vinod.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo3XWHQQb9urNhpNh4En1azw-Dh7de-j_8c0elrvPP4I_7elBGvHeeEsYeHk6PfrR68JdSeW97JQtatPp6tdHs4qMm5ORy7PS9Ti8I20o4uvFlA1KJ_v310ZoPsnKyBK8TbFp4/s1600/lifestraw.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="550" data-original-width="393" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo3XWHQQb9urNhpNh4En1azw-Dh7de-j_8c0elrvPP4I_7elBGvHeeEsYeHk6PfrR68JdSeW97JQtatPp6tdHs4qMm5ORy7PS9Ti8I20o4uvFlA1KJ_v310ZoPsnKyBK8TbFp4/s320/lifestraw.jpg" width="228" /></a></div>
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Jayanthi Gopalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04377793298308663704noreply@blogger.com2