Make it make sense

 

Make it make sense

I've experienced various types of dreams and even nightmares.before, (particularly  after late night gorging  ) Last night I had this very crazy dream, so I'm just scribbling  it down

Scene 1 :10.30 Pm. Dived into bed. & snuggled into the blanket  ( not really freezing outside but to escape from  mosquitoes). Did a few twists & Turns  lasting  a  few minutes. Feel myself  Drifting off……….The last I can recollect clearly. 

Scene 2: I begin to hear  Mumbled voices, then the vision .Thick fog all around.  (maybe because that’s the way dreams are supposed to be & portrayed in movies.) At a distance a white Target Board with three thick black concentric circles. A red disk in the centre, evidently bullseye.From  a corner spot three apparitions     emerging slowly from the haze.  They are men , hands on hips, wearing broad leather belts with  gun holster,Now  I see them clearly. , It’s Lionel Messi, Donald Trump (believe me) with a Stetson hat on his head  and …….  Thalaivar in cowboy vest ,dark glasses, scraf  around his neck. cigar between lips and eeks,,,,,,,,,,wearing a Lungi folded upto his knees and high Leather boots    

Each one pulls out his revolver from the holster. It  feels as though they are walking towards me. I'm confused. Messi takes  position   a few feet in front of me, facing the Target Board.  I feel greatly relieved.  He takes aim and fires. A hole appears at a spot on the outermost Circle.  Trump fires next, No hole anywhere on the board. A strange sense of serenity sweeps over me. Thalaivar takes position , Stares at the target, checks the gun…. And suddenly whirls round , facing me. I try to run but I’m not going anywhere .I see him now Aiming at the Target from over his shoulder ……….   he fires……..and misses the target. Silence . I can't take it anymore “Aaaaarrgh”  I scream. “That stupid target board is……me”

   

Scene 3  Startled by  a violent jolt.My left forearm is being held firmly and shaken  I wake up with a start &  gulp some water from the bottle which is offered. Check the time: its 1.50 a.m.

 I later learnt that even as I was being shaken out of my dream , I was mumbling incoherently  .The victim of this indignity even quipped: “Thought you were reciting Saama Vedam ”. This may sound  ridiculous. But,it really happened

Can anyone  decipher  the significance of this dream for me ? Is it a warning of some   grave peril or just an act of Revenge by my over burdened digestive system?

 

Holy Rasam ! Leaf Me Alone

 

Holy Rasam !

              Leaf Me Alone

 

Most of us would have been to a south Indian wedding, but for the people who haven’t, or attending for the first time let me give you a glimpse of what it feels like to be there , with some special guidance too.

The most important event  at the wedding is not the ceremony where the groom ties the knot. It’s the next immediate reaction - a minimum crowd of around 250 people scampering to find a seat in the dining room. A fight with strangers, catering staff or even members of the Host’s family  trying to push strangers  away, and  triumphantly taking  your  seat at a table that looks like Christ’s last supper.

Welcome to the high stakes, maximum-gravity arena of the South Indian wedding feast  

                  [sadya-സദ്യ, Aritaku Bhojanam -అరిటాకు భోజనం                                          or  ThalaiVazhaielai  virundhu தலைவாழை இலை விருந்து ].

A long paper is rolled out  on the steel tables and a guy follows  up folding it on the sides preventing it from flying away and falling on the one sitting opposite to us. That’s when you  realize, there is a similar long row of people sitting right opposite staring right into your eyes, and shall witness what’s about to unfold. A large, green, non-polluting, sustainable, healthy with antimicrobial properties banana   leaf is unfolded  and placed right in front of you , waiting to unleash   its long list of healthy properties. Though it does look like you’re  dining in the age of dinosaur  and maybe the leaf in itself looks edible, there’s more coming your way. There are 2 parts to the leaf, the top portion houses all the poriyals, curries, “sides”, appetizers. The bottom part of your leaf is reserved exclusively for the mountains of rice that you  can consume and for another purpose which we shall discover as we  pig out

When you take a peep to the left ,at the distant  end of the tables, a group of people are lined up and on cue start heading our way, like a military parade but  with vessels,Trays & buckets of delicious food in their hands.

To start with, a sweet is placed on the bottom  right end corner of your leaf. We always start with something sweet for a celebratory occasion. Then they place a cutlet or an appetizer like paneer tikka or a vegetable spring roll, which,though alien  for the “South”  leaf itself  and “our” people, you  accept with a pinch of inclusivity. Then a variety of vegetable curries made of potatoes, beans lentils or other vegetables  follows, that are placed one beside the other, ending the row with an avial —  a mix of 13 vegetables, ground coconut & curry leaves and with a single spoon of pickle and salt in the end

Then comes a person with a large stainless steel basin and an extra-large curved paddle, to push a humongous quantity of rice and he expects you to create a crater in the middle. Before you wonder why,  350ml of steaming hot sambhar gets poured in the middle with a lot of vegetables floating as they were. You only get 12 seconds to mix the rice and sambhar to prevent it  sliding down the leaf So  continue to look for a “side”, the spicy potato curry   placed exactly 30 degrees north of your sambhar.You also get served a white, crispy Appalam fried in oil which you may consume in numbers , until the server gets a little Apprehensive  about your oil intake.

The “rice guy” as he is named is appearing before you  at the sight of your empty banana leaf. He just waits for your nod to fill the space again with another mountain of rice and ensures you create  the same crater again. Now you  can opt for   a variety of gravy like vatha kulambu, mor kulambu or just rasam which helps in digestion of all life sustaining Sludge  that fill your tummy. If you choose rasam, which is a spicy watery tamarind and tomato soup, your skill to not let it overflow and drip down on yourselves or the persons sitting on either side to you will be put to its ultimate  test . Suddenly, a server arrives and splashes a golden, piping-hot river of rasam directly into your  crater.. It is highly volatile, structurally liquid, and actively looking for an exit toward your lap.Do not panic. Gently sweep the outer walls of the rice volcano into the centre pool, creating a thick, manageable slurry. Scoop the mixture and move it toward your mouth immediately. Speed is your ally; surface tension is your enemy. Tilt your upper body forward at a precise 38 1/2 -degree angle over the leaf. If a drop falls, it must fall back onto the leaf, not your clothes.

With the slurping sound and your eloquent dance with rasam , we become a sight of awe to the beings sitting opposite.

Congratulations! you successfully finished the rasam.You have conquered the boss level of traditional south Indian dining.

If you still have your energy and respect  indulge  in another round of rice with curd & tangy pickle or see the light at the end of the leaf, we’re in for a treat to our taste buds .

Though you’ve come to the end of the leaf and your appetite, a small cup of payasam is the icing on the cake which we will  always crave for another round. After  the battle and the drama on the leaf, when you look up to face your embarrassment in front of others, we shall be greeted with nobody but ourselves finishing up last while those 250 people  sitting next to us rushing  towards ice cream and gulab jamoon counter, which we might think to leave  for the next wedding we attend together.

You can now fold your banana leaf inward to signal your absolute victory, and walk away with your pride & pristine clothes intact.   

    

 

Strangers in the Rear view Mirror

 Strangers in the Rear view Mirror

Grab a packet of  Churmuri and buckle up. Navigating the streets of Namma Mysuru in an auto-rickshaw is an unparalled   experience. While other cities have their own vibes,  Mysuru’s  "Auto-anna" is a unique character. Here is a breakdown of the types of drivers you are sure to encounter on your  trips  across the Heritage  City:

1.The Clock Tower-Ashoka Road toughie ::This driver has spent so many years in the bustling   traffic that he has developed a permanent scowl. He views the road as a battlefield. He weaves through gaps that don't exist, honks with a rhythmic intensity, and provides a running commentary in Kannada about the poor state of the city's Roads (& his favourite lanes)

.2. The "One-and-Half" Specialist:This character doesn't believe in the standard meter. Every destination, no matter how close, is "One-and-half" or a flat "One fifty" regardless of the distance. He calculates fares using a secret mathematical formula known only to him, usually peaking during rains or peak hours.

3. The Kannada Pandit::This is the tech-savvy driver who is proud of his roots. He might have posters inside the auto teaching you basic Kannada phrases like "Yelli?" (Where?) or "Swalpa Adjust Maadkoli" (Adjust a little). He is happy to take you anywhere as long as you make an effort to speak at least a few words of  his mathrubashe”

4. The Mobile Philosopher:The moment you hop in, the podcast begins. He doesn't need a guest; he has opinions on everything from the latest Sandalwood movie plot to causes of  global warming. Even if you have your headphones on, he will ensure you hear his thoughts on why the Renovation of the City’s Heritage Buildings  is taking so long

.5. The interior decorator :This driver treats his auto like a palace. It is adorned with golden tassles , pictures  of legendary actor  Dr. Rajkumar,the Maharajas of Mysore or even glamour girls of Bollywood  in various  get-up and enough LED lights to be seen from space. The Audio  system is top-notch, playing high-energy Kannada hits that turn your commute into a mini-concert.

6.The "Kotyadhipathi":For this driver, your destination is merely a suggestion. He is the master of his own destiny. If you ask to go to Siddharthanagar, he might decide he prefers the air in Vontikoppal today. He will simply shake his head, say "No,"                     ( baralla)  and drive off with the arrogance of a billionaire who doesn't actually need the fare

7.The "Namma" Legend :A rare and cherished find. This driver turns  the meter down without being asked, knows all the shortcuts to avoid the main road traffic, and doesn't complain about the potholes. He is the hero of the  streets. If you find him, make sure to give him a five-star rating on your app or a generous tip, because he is keeping the spirit of the Royal city alive.

So there you have it. The seven types of  auto legends.

Martyr of the Trash Can

 

Martyr of the Trash Can

I never aspired  to become a Civic Culture Motivator. I just wanted my neighbors, to stop Dumping  their garbage  bang in front of our Gates. But in my heritage locality in old Mysore, trying to change public behavior is like trying to convince a filter-coffee purist to drink latte  . You don’t just get compliance; you get a stern  lecture on the philosophy of waste. Here is the unfiltered truth from the front lines of my foray into the realms of  civic  motivation..

My first official campaign was to get citizens of my locality  "Segregate at Source." Armed with colourful brochures,bins & Banners  I and a volunteer group of “Lets do it Mysore” marched up every cross Road and Lane in the neighborhood. We approached the house of Kamalamma. the alpha  matriarch of a narrow by lane ,  She has lived on this street since 1958. Assuming us  to be  the entire municipality sanitary  squad she regarded u  as  uninvited guests.

 "Kamalamma “Avare”, green bin for wet waste, blue bin for plastic instructed our enthusiastic young member.

: “Do I have to pay for the Buckets?”  " Listen, child my grandfather planted that tamarind  tree. It eats everything. Plastic ? “I wash milk packets and use them to store Betel leaf & nuts. So Don’t teach me 'recycle !"

On subsequent rounds, we found that she uses the blue bin—which she accepted from us with much trepidation—as a footstool for her veranda gossip sessions.

The Footpath Face-Off: we tackled the footpaths. In old Mysore (Bandi keri in this case) .i a  footpath is rarely for walking. It is an extension of the living room, a garage for a 1979 TVS 50, or a grazing ground for Kempi, the neighborhood cow. We tried to convince the local youth to stop parking their scooters on the pavement.: "Sir, if we park on the road, the city buses scrape the paint. If we park on the footpath, the vehicle is safe under the shade of the sacred neem tree. It’s practical spirituality.” Was their stubborn defence.

 The gang  offered a  Compromise; They didn't move the scooters. Instead, they   treated us to   tender coconut to " cool  hot heads." Sheepishly we drank the coconut. The scooters remained.

Next  we tried to stop residents from throwing small plastic bags of leftover /spoiled food  into the  corner of the  park at midnight.  We set up a vigil with flashlights, catching Mr.Chandru in the act at 11:40 PM. The Volunteer whispered, "Sir, the CCTV is watching”. Mr. Chandru adjusted his trousers and hissed back, "My ancestors fed the stray dogs at this exact hour. I am just continuing the tradition. Besides, if I walk all the way to the  municipal bin, my knee acts up. Better Consider this my midnight charity ” .Having failed to stop him we placed a discreet terracotta pot right where he liked to aim, and now he drops the waste….. around it. The dogs are still happy.

The Rangoli Rebellion

My greatest trial was the "Plastic-Free Campaign "  of “Lets do it Mysore” during  Dasara festival.  The moment we suggested using organic colors instead of synthetic powders for the street rangolis competition  the local aunties formed a unified front. They claimed organic colors lacked the "high-voltage brightness" & failed to reflect true “Heritage”  required to intimidate the next street’s rangoli committee.

 We spent three hours demonstrating how to make yellow dye from turmeric and ended up staining our own hands bright yellow, looking like we had a severe case of jaundice, while the aunties scoffed secretly & used neon pink glitter because "the Gods” like shine

The Ultimate Realization:  Being a civic motivator here means accepting a different perspective of life. You cannot change  centuries-old mindset with a PowerPoint presentation or Emotional (Read Patriotic) plea. You change it over sessions of Juicy Gossip & cups of sweet  tea, by admiring people's “aesthetic” sense, and by gently nudging them until they think your civic idea was actually their ancestral tradition.

 Months later, I saw Mahesha spreading his Vegetable & papaya peels directly around the bottom of Tamarind tree and a few  “Inspired” aunties showering the   flowerbed on the Traffic island. Progress is slow, but at least the bushes  in the Traffic Triangle   are thriving.       

Janani Janmabhoomi

 

Janani Janmabhoomi

Happy 80th birthday to My Bharath, India, Hindustan . As We celebrate our freedom. I still feel moved by Our National Anthem & Vande Mataram. Yet, there’s  a lurking fear that patriotism is gradually taking on  shades of  an organized cult & showing   parochial. narrowness .  My idea of expressing  love for my country seems to be grossly  outdated  &  weak today.

Performative, aggressive acts of national devotion seem to be   replacing genuine civic responsibility..Instead of supporting the country’s laws, welfare, and constitutional values, it relies on loud symbolic, mob behavior like

:1. Posting  various profile frames,  melodramatic nationalist rhetoric, on Social Media without addressing real local issues & chanting slogans in public spaces as a  show Patriotism

2.Treating national flags or anthems as tools of moral superiority rather than respecting them as shared cultural history

3.Taking the law into one's own hands under the banner of protecting national or cultural pride, which often harms community safety.

:4. Praising armed forces  loudly online while completely ignoring the actual welfare of soldiers, Martyrs’ family veterans,

5.Shirking basic responsibilities like paying taxes, following traffic laws, protecting Historically relevant  Monuments  while professing  extreme love for the country.

. Even so, I still love my country.. Here are the patriotic things I did early in my life:

Learning the national anthem at school and the national pledge a little later was one of my foremost patriotic acts. I can still sing  the anthem fluently and recite portions of the pledge without referring. On this Independence day I make the following simple Resolutions to help me “grow” personally while honoring my country.

1.I pledge to keep my  neighborhood clean, respect civic rules, practice kindness, and build daily habits that support a stronger, greener society.

2. Stop littering and carry my trash until I find a bin.

3.Follow traffic and safety rules on every single ride or walk.

4.Save water and electricity at home to conserve national resources.

5.Plant a sapling  at every opportunity and take care of it as it grows.

6.Treat people from all backgrounds with same respect and kindness.

7 support a child's education.

8.Focus on honest work and continuous self-improvement.

9.Try to recite our National Pledge in its entirety without help .

10. And seek God almighty’s blessings to fulfill the Resolutions

 

      जननी     जन्मभूमिश्च    स्वर्गादपि    गरीयसी

 

 

Wilderness, greenery ,comedy, fiasco

 

Wilderness, greenery ,comedy, fiasco 

When four old college day friends met after decades, the memories came rushing back.and the years melted away. Reliving those times again brought a warm and bittersweet feeling, especially while reflecting on the dear friend who passed away, the ludicrous road trips made in the distant  past , the  silly moments becoming  the most treasured topics. Every shared memory brought back the joy of the  simpler time in life as if it happened yesterday

If you don’t speak Malayalam, the opening line of our trip will sound like a broken mantra: "Let’s just buy an audio  CD Kanro !" Imagine hearing that 100 times in a row. By the 20th time, I was ready to drive the car straight into the Arabian Sea and by the 60th, I was even ready to make a CD out of my own eardrums. Other than the wretched unpredictable monsoon turning the road towards the  Coast  into a car swimming-pool the traffic entering Gods Own Country and the "rural" resort that was basically a waking nightmare forced us to  deeply confront the unsettling reality of our  own mortality,

To combat the traffic K invented a game: Kollywood Medley. It turned  out, you can ruin any timeless melody by changing the lyrics to absolute gibberish We were screaming inanities at top volume, purely for "mental health" reasons. It’ had to be  either that or committing violent offences  in the middle of a traffic jam, right?

Still, I’d say it was the perfect Holiday. Pure rest, Kulukki Sharbath, Sulemani Chaya, fluffy aappam , Chenda Melam , and we had nature (teeming with Humanity)  all to ourselves. But let’s talk about how we handled the chaos, because we were clearly nervy.

 There was this "authentic" nature resort. When we booked, we were dreaming like, "Yes! Let’s be one with nature ! Rawness! Local Culture!  and all " Turned out, we are total city snobs who recoil at the slightest hint of ‘minor’ inconveniences .Yes that place was a nightmare—a total stampede, and the service was just a petite Hostess ‘Checchi’  laughing at us from time to time. As wise friend P pointed out, it was less “peaceful getaway" and more " Natural Disaster refugee crisis." We hit the road in a flash and made a hasty retreat from the much acclaimed Retreat. That resort will never see these five faces again for sure. So much about  the nightmare.

Now, let's talk about what I am  best at  naturally: “Award winning” Cynicism. We had planned a surprise party for V, and I happened to be the nominated  lead Character in orchestrating the deception. My friends always  trusted  my bluffing skills way too much—I don’t know if I should be proud or terrified that they know I’m such a crafty Mastermind. Be that  as it may , I did my  best to ruin a perfectly good surprise with my excessive Drama(edy)