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Spirited Away..
11 years ago
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In my quest to woo the damsels of South India, I have embarked on a mission to master all the four languages of the Deccan Plateau. Having studied Kannada as part of my school curriculum, my job becomes simpler in assimilating the three other ones. No, actually, there is an interesting twist here – I can read Telugu (since the script pretty much resembles that of Kannada) and can converse in Tamil (thanks to my two year stint at Chennai). Well that makes me 50% literate in these two languages. But as they say, half knowledge is dangerous, I have thus begun serious learning and hope to come out with a book titled “Master the Deccan in 15 days”, thus giving the Rapidex courses a run for their money.
And what better way to learn them than by watching movies in the regional languages? I am pretty optimistic about this approach, but the last time around when I watched a couple of Tamil movies and spoke in the language, my colleagues almost thought I was speaking in French (Je m’excuse messieurs).
Well, thanks to my cousin SPNPR (yup, those are indeed lengthy initials) who has loaned me a couple of Telugu movies, I have begun Mission Impossible 3 with great élan. The movie was titled “Happy Days” and I am using this opportunity to blog on the same.
Happy Days – is all about a gang of friends who join an Engineering College from different parts of the state and their journey across the four years of the course. It pretty much starts with the traditional opening that each of us would have experienced – yes, Ragging. While shown in positive light, it goes to depict the transformation that moderate ragging can bring about in a student’s personality. This is followed by the “co-incidental” ice breakers that bring together, the prime actors of the movie (and their counter parts of course). There are scenes inspired from Lagaan, Mai Hoon Na, and RDB but they are woven quite well so that the movie flows naturally. The hot headed professors, the hostel fights, first crushes, instances of friendship, exam fever - all form integral components of the movie.
Some very good music with great cinematography contributes the required jazz to the movie. The movie ends on a positive note (with the Professor raising a toast to the students) with the message that though the “Happy Days” of 4 years have come to end, they just mark the beginning of the professional days of the future. A favorite line of mine from the movie is the one where the actor comments that he is as clueless at the end of four years as he was when he began his journey four years ago. Though the actors are not the branded ones that you normally see on the silver screen, they have done quite a good job in the acting department.
The director deserves a compliment for having successfully transported the viewers back in time - The time when lunch on the stone benches was more filling than the present a la carte menu in our air conditioned offices, when the canteen samosa was tastier than the buffet at Le Meridien, when the hard seats of the college bus were more comfortable than the bucket seats of the car we now own, when the “by 2 cutting chai” was more satisfying than the most exotic fruit punch, , when winning a debate competition was more gratifying than a successful sales pitch to the customer, when 5:30 p.m meant the first show at the cinema hall with friends and not long drawn conference calls, when life meant freedom in the truest sense of the word!
Precious are those moments and I have quite a few to treasure when I look back at the four years that made me a man! ( no pun intended :))Happy days, they were, indeed…..
After quite a few attempts aimed at getting the gang in place, 5 of us colleagues finally set out on yet another adventure this weekend to the famed tourist destination of “Yaana” that is nestled in the hills that surround Sirsi, about 100 kms from the scenic town of Shimoga.
Friday last had been extremely hectic, and the very thought of driving down in a self chauffeured car for a round trip of 1000 kms almost made me shudder as to how we would complete the ordeal.
But owing to our expert driver SH who has an alias of Michael Shoemaker and prides himself on giving the original a run for his money, we were quite confident of getting back in one piece.
The rendezvous for our departure was Navrang Cinema in Rajajinagar, and the time set to 10 p.m. IST (Indian Stretchable Time). With MB, VH and CP joining us from across the city, we finally departed 30 minutes later. Incidentally, as a tribute to a successful departure, the heavens opened up and showered refreshing H2O drops that gave us constant company through the night.
Even as SH warned us from sleeping, the monotonous sound of the car wipers soon gave way to 12 hours of Non stop music, similar to the punch line of the radio station – fever 104. VH’s cd that contained multi lingual chart busters from KK to Bryan Adams kept us, and more importantly the driver, awake, thorugh the course of the journey.
23:30 hrs: Shell Gas station on Tumkur Road
The drops of petrol gurgled as they entered the metal fuel tank, resonating in a way, with the pattering of the rain drops around us. As the car got its share of fuel, we topped up our edible reserves with Haldiram’s, Orbit, Lay’s, and other paraphernalia that would form our fuel along the way.
3:30 hrs Saturday Morning: Suspended Animation
Amidst patches of long talks, chatter, songs and meditation (as per SH, there is no such word as sleep), we realized that our very own Shoemaker needed a break as well. A 30 minute suspended animation for all of us, that had intermittent snores from the junta, filled the otherwise quiet atmosphere.
5:30 hrs: The lady at the wheel
CP took to the wheel to give SH a reprieve and was graciously allowed to drive as a tribute to the spirit of Women’s Day, that was celebrated a week ago. CP was confident of her driving but MB who by the way is entering a new phase in his life soon, was caught gaping in awe each time the car negotiated a hair pin bend.
8:00 hrs: Pit stop at Sirsi
We arrived at the first pit stop of Sirsi where we checked into our Hotel. A quick shower and a quicker breakfast had us hit the road by 10:00 hrs on a bright Saturday morning, towards our first sightseeing point of Sahasralinga- 15 kms from Sirsi.
The beauty of this spot captivated us beyond description. Secluded from the mob of tourists, this place had 1000 shivlings that were carved in stone and scattered across the river. It is said that these shivlings belong to the period of the Chalukyas that once reigned supreme as the royal dynasty of South India.
12:00 hrs : Divine Blessing - Ganesh Pal
The beauty about Ganesh Pal is that there is a Swayambhu idol of Lord Ganesh that is present in a make shift temple - accessible after crossing a river with knee deep waters. The road leading to this place might resemble the Martian crater laden surface, but believe me, the overall experience was indeed invigorating.
14:00 hrs: Halli Mane Oota
Nope. This is not the famed hotel chain that is spread across Bangalore. This was actually the actual translation of “village home”. We stopped by one of the villages that had a typical house that also served food as an additional source of income. The rock bottom prices, the goodness of the food and the freshness of spring water, all these were straight out of a fairy tale, especially for Bangaloreans such as us who are used to breathing Carbon di oxide everyday.
16:00 hrs: Think Big - 28 rooms and one common hallway
Our next stop was almost a visit to Filmistan Studio. We visited the house where a kannada movie was filmed. To say that this house was “mammoth” is an understatement. With 28 rooms in all and a common hallway, it has about 150 people living under one roof. Incidentally, these people were distant relatives of VH who himself had not visited the place in 15 years. The Sanskrit shloka recital from one of the kids who was barely 5 years old, left us spell bound. It was then that we were told that there is a dedicated school for Sanskrit studies that is present in the vicinity of the village. We rewound the clocks of time and plunged into the rubber wheel race with the kids, racing down to the finish line. SH cheated as usual and won the race, in an attempt to reinforce the fact that he was a good driver, both with the engine and without one. At the end of it all, the glee in the children’s eyes as we distributed some goodies, chocolates and biscuits was gratifying.
17:00 hrs: Maagod Falls - Waterfalls in the Mountains
An hour’s drive through the winding ghat section brought us face to face with one of nature’s finest creations. Maagod falls thundered down the mountains with an unsaid message of stamping their authority and grandeur. After our professional photographer MB made us pose in a variety of moves, that almost resembled the diversity in the stone sculptures of belur, we were covered by a blanket of mist that embraced us and the huge oak trees around us, with open arms. As the chill kicked in, we reluctantly made our way back to the car. The downpour that followed ensured that SH had to implement some high quality driving skills, since the 4 wheeler almost turned into a roller coaster – swaying from one side to the other along the slushy road.
20:00 hrs : Some chat, some food and a good night’s sleep
As we tottered into our hotel rooms after a hectic but memorable day’s sight seeing, we played some good music in the background even as the chat ranged from mythology to Indian politics and of course the ubiquitous past time of Antyakshari.
Even as we cuddled up into our beds, the promise of exciting adventure the following day left us waiting expectantly for the same.
9:00 hrs : Sunday : The final frontier - Yaana
Thanks to SH, who sleeps as much as the legendary Kumbhakaran, our departure was delayed by an hour. Post this, we set off to the caves of Yaana which was about 2 hours from Sirsi. We cut short the trek due to lack of time and still managed a trek of 5 kilometers. The endless beauty was evident in the countless streams and rivulets that lined the entire pathway leading to the caves. As we reached the summit, we were witness to gigantic monolith caves which stood almost a hundred feet tall, at the heart of which was present a temple dedicated to Lord Shiva. A barefoot pradakshina in some tough terrain was concluded by gobbling packed lunch that we had carried from Sirsi. This was followed by the much accustomed ritual of posing for the Kingfisher calendar. The models rewarded themselves with a swig of cool drink after the painstaking photo shoot.
Actually, (the infectious word "actually" was used a zillion times on the trip thanks to SH) I think it was the faulty temperature meter in SH’s car that induced us into believing that Global Warming had reached its pinnacle.
After one final look at Nature’s rich creation, we reluctantly headed back to our automobile.
15:30 hrs: Off to VH’s native village
What could be more satisfying than having wild bananas and hot kashaya (health drink) for a quick evening snack? That’s precisely what the doctor ordered when we reached VH’s native village and lazed around in the areca nut and banana plantations, even as we chewed the freshly plucked beetel leaves during our royal walk. SH set a world record for devouring the maximum number of bananas in one shot.
After some more poses (which were clichéd, by now), we drove out through the village road leading to the highway, silently convincing ourselves that the city life that we led was better than what we had just witnessed. All of us knew deep down our hearts that it was not true.
3:00 hrs Monday Morning: High on the Highway
Don’t be mistaken. We were high alright! But not due to alcohol. It was thanks to two sleepless nights and SH’s insistence that we dance alongside the highway at that unearthly hour. According to him it was supposed to be the valedictory dance that the tribals from Andaman perform, when they complete any successful venture.
With CP initially refusing to come out of the car, what eventually did bring her out were the high decibel levels emanating from the inside of the car.
6:00 hrs: Namma Bengalooru
With CP taking to the wheel again, we managed to reach Bengalooru at 6:00 hrs. Even as the droopy eyed zombies entered my house, we were welcomed by Ma’s piping hot breakfast of kesari bhat and shavige bhat.
A quick freshening up exercise and all of us were off on our paths and a surreal world of 2 days gave way to the hard hitting reality of everyday life.
But the more we sank into the experience we had just had, the more we realized that “life is that which happens to us, when we are busy doing other things”….Life’s calling..Where are you?...
A few of the 400 odd pictures are below. - In order - The Gang, Sahasralinga, Maagod Falls, Yaana, with the Kids..
Even as I began pondering on what I should be doing in life other than travel 75 kilometers a day for my “rosy roti”, my brain came up with a brilliant suggestion that I needed to pick up a foreign language in order to survive the anticipatory pink slip scenario.
While a couple of calls to the alliance francaise de Banglore, did help me obtain some basic information on the class schedule (hope you have realized by now that French was been the lucky language bestowed with the honor of being learnt, by yours truly), I was a little apprehensive on how I would accommodate 6 hours of study over weekends in addition to my rituals of sleeping, hogging, traveling and doing nothing, which actually takes a lot of time.
It was at this juncture that the training department at my organization came up with just what the doctor ordered and sent out a mailer on French classes to be conducted on campus by an instructor from the alliance francaise. My eyes lit up and a couple of imploring mails to my manager helped me enroll.
Monday last, was the first session and the class of 25 – comprising of managers, programmers and consultants like me waited with bated breath to take on the marathon of learning a new means of expression via the exotic language of le français.
The instructor, walked in and addressed us as was the customary, with a pleasant “Bonjour”, which by the universal law of speech had to correspond to “ hello”. What followed were some quick fire statements in the new language that had us look up in awe just as Stuart Broad did when Yuvraj clobbered him for six consecutive sixers at the 20-20 game at Kingsmead.
Flirting with words like Vous, votre, sa va, bon voyage and the like that filled the otherwise silent environment, we were left confused all the same at the end of the round 1 which lasted for about 40 minutes.
The tea break was followed by Round 2 with Ms. UB trying to teach a bunch of “foreign” students, the language of Monsieur Napoleon Bonaparte ala the famed television series - Mind Your Language.
Like children in 2nd grade, we went about reciting le alphabete’ in chorus and anyone who saw us from outside would have reckoned, we were the likes of the dyslexic Ishaan Awasthi from Taare Zameen Par, who were late bloomers in life.
From the time the first class ended, I’ve been showing off my French skills to Ma, Dad, colleagues, the milkman, the maid and anyone I’ve found on the street.
The dialogue exchange has been something like this:
Auto driver: Ellige Saar?
Me: Vous Vous appele comment?
Auto driver : Oh ! Malayali aano ? Evede pova saar ?
Me : Vous paarle quelles lang ?
Auto driver : No paarle saar, I like only Britannia
Me : Quelles votre nationalite' ?
Auto driver : Banni saar, NIMHANS ge free aage drop maadtini
Me: Sigh!
I’ve decided to get the authentic feel of learning French by trying to emulate them as closely as I can. This has included a long term plan of growing French Beard, of ordering only French Fries at Mc Donald’s, sampling the best of French wine and, well I’ll stop at that.
My colleagues have begun responding to me in Anglisized French, rather Fransisized English and believe me, that has driven me to forget my desi Angreji as well.
But I am not going to allow this to dampen my spirits. Mistakes do happen and amateurs ought to be encouraged. As they say, “To Err is French, to forgive is the Wine!” hic! Till then, au revoir and Carla Bruni, here I come !
Pic above : Eiffel Tower.
Pic below: well, that's me in class!
This latest composition of mine, has been a fallout of the wonderful musical treat that I was part of on Republic Day, with the Swedish band called Mynta where Shankar Mahadevan was on the vocals.
An evening with Mynta
Even as my mind was to be filled with thoughts,
Ponder, I did on the entire lot,
Myriad they were as they could get,
So much that they turned into my brows’ sweat
Worry, as people termed it, was eating into me,
I needed a break from the routine scene
And the week had not been very kind as yet,
How I wished for some rejuvenation and rest
The Saturday last, brought with it, a pleasant gift
The notes of melody filled the void and rift
The gift was of divine music of life,
Which began to rid me of mental strife
The open sky and the breath of fresh air
The band called Mynta and their music’s flair
Coupled with the enigma of Shankar’s voice:
Brought back memories of past poise
The freshness of the genre was indeed a feast,
The fusion it was, of the west and east
The jovial jazz and the mystic carnatic
Silenced even the toughest critic
As positive vibes filled my chest,
Admired, I did at the Creator’s best
And as I slipped into the sleep of musical serenity
I woke up with the peace to last till eternity....
Image - Shankar with a filler in the midst of the program performing the famed "Suno Gaur se duniya walo.."
Nope it’s not the next Anil kapoor Sri devi starrer on lines of Chaal baaz!
A Sutta Baaz, as defined by the Rashtriya Hindi Shabd Kosh (also called dictionary: for those of you who dint know) is a person whose “har prograam ka main phood” is sutta.
Sutta comes in a variety of shapes and sizes. And a wide range in fact – from Mangalooru Ganesh Beedi to Raabart wala Marlboro. From the information that I have gathered, apparently sutta and cutting chai are supposed to be an unbeatable combination that is relished especially by engineering students who wish to give their breakfast a miss.
P.S.- Any description is not truly the author’s experience. It has been collected from a variety of sources. Ma! This is for your informaiton, lest you think of me as a DTM (Dari Tappida Maga – translated as the son who lost his way).
Ok. Back to the topic. Since my inception in the corporate world, (which is roughly for about three and a half years now), there is one place that has caught my attention as the most happening “adda” and that is the Smoking Zone at office also called the Cancer Club.
The criteria to join the club require you to be a connoisseur of tobacco in either active or passive mode. This is one place where you can find people across departments, hierarchy, caste, creed, color, gender(this is catching up specially outside BPOs) and all the other non-discriminatory parameters as laid down by the U.N. General Assembly.
This is the prime location where a variety of topics are discussed right from the Sensex to behind the scenes stories of office politics. What text books on Organization behavior call “Grapevine” is precisely this.
What’s more, this elite club is organization agnostic.
Overheard this morning at the Sutta Club:
1 “Kings” is lit.
Mr. B: Yaar, Bohot tension ho gayi hai
Mr. J: Kyun bhai kya hua?
J uses B’s cigarette to save a match stick for India. (Applause!!)
Mr. B: Saala 2 lakh gaye mere, Mukesh ke wajeh se?
Mr. J: Arre apna Mukesh joh humarey department main hain?
Mr. B: Nahin re, Mukesh Ambani, usne kuch Iraq mein locha kiya hai is liye bhaav gir gaya, abhi joh maine teesra flat kharida tha pichley haftey usko bechna padega. Kya naubat hai.
The rings of smoke resemble Kekule’s benzene structure! (yes, I still remember :))
Mr. J: Chal Chill maar yaar. Yeh bata, is baar Quarterly payout ki kuch khabar?
Mr. B: Kyun muh khulva raha hai? Shukar karo is baar negative mein nahin jaa raha hai
The cigarettes are half spent
Mr. J: Suna hai Mrs. K ko out of turn promotion mil raha hai?
Mr. B: Haan woh Mr. P ke team mein jaa rahi hai.
Mr. P: Meri team mein? Mujhe khud pata nahin
Mr B: Maine tumhe bataya nahin aur tumne kuch suna nahin
The cigarettes are almost dying out like the lamps at the deathbeds of the aged actors of bollywood movies(wah! Kitni filmy hai!! Nirupa Roy would be proud of me)
Mr. J: Chal woh chhod. Weekend pe kya plan hai?
Mr. B: Bohot hectic yaar. Saturday ko London mein hoon. Wahan se Paris hotey huey Wednesday ko New York mein hoon. Return flight via Dubai hai, who bhi 1 day stop over ke saath. Travel kar ke thak gaya hoon yaar. Ab dekh last trip mein around the world in 80 hours ho gaya tha. Bohot pressure hai
(Nautanki Saaley!)Me began thinking on lines of Mungeri Laal –
“Na ghooma mainey UK
Na dekha hai Amreeca.
Par shikayat, beta inki sunkey
Ghoom aaya khwabon mein poori duniya”
The cigarettes that provided a medium for the conversation are crushed under the expensive “Franco Leone” shoes, which completes their 2 minutes and 37 seconds life span from the mouth to the foot.
(The butt is almost out with the last bright flicker!)
Not sure how to end this post. So let me just say, An ode to the sutta, sutta club and the sutta baaz.!
John Abraham would definitely love it...