Went over all the pictures I've been taking on my phone and realised that I had plenty of me in Autos. Will explain why as we go on.
I've realised that public transport in Indian cities have distinct identities. Mumbai trains are like the Japs, always on time, be it 6:57 or 9:23, and their cabs are blue and cool, unlike the weather. Chennai autos are known for taking people on a longer ride than they expected. Delhi buses, like most brands today, believe in catering to different target audiences, U Specials, Red Line, Blue Line. Calcutta, like its people, has its well rounded ambassadors, its laid back trams and its artistic underground.
In all this, how can Bangalore be left behind. Namma Bengaluru autos specialise in turning the roads into museums. You can see the autos, stop, sigh and stare hopefully at the empty colorful seat inside, but you cannot get in. Nah, that's unless like in the museums, you are willing to pay an entry fee. In the underground circles, the auto slang for the entry ticket is 'ten rupees extra' or one and a half (pronounced 'unn und a alf').
It is safe to say that in this age where everyone wants to go faster, the auto guys in Bangalore are satisfied with free parking and a lazy ddddddrive. Like the American Presidential cavalcade where hoards of loyalists wave their arms in the hope of catching the President's attention. The President, on his part, simply rides on with a pleasant smile on his face as if saying, 'Yeah, you wish.'
From my vast experience in being stranded on the sidewalk at all hours, odd and rush, I have come to the conclusion that there are different types of autodrivers (or as my dearest friend Deena calls them 'Automan!') in Bengaluru.
Yaake Automan - He has neatly cut out pictures of Uppi in various action and romantic poses peeping out of every corner, has FM that blasts Kannada numbers for every car driver to hear, and firmly believes that his three wheeler is actually a Bugati Veyron in disguise.
Namma Bhasha Automan - Get in and say anything to the effect of 'Yahan se left lena bhaiya' and he takes off on why I haven't bothered to learn Kannada even though I am in Karnataka, and how great the language is, and how these non kannadiga people have come and taken over all the jobs in the city. For this kind, I have memorised leftu, rightu, stoppu. Works like a hot knife on butter.
Old Muslim Automan - The best kind. Never ask for more money, never say no to going anywhere and never lech at you, but like all good things, they're very hard to find and bitterly fought for. If you find one, thank your stars.
Faccha Automan - You can go wherever you like, as long as you know the way there. The faccha looks like he's new in the city, and is stopping to ask you for directions. And you, kind soul, step into his auto, and take him there, while paying him for following your directions, and putting up with his false starts and wrong turns.
Yenu, Yavadu, Trafficu Automan - The eternal cribber. The moment you sit inside, you'll wish you hadn't. He'll get into a monologue about the traffic in the city, his wife, his kids, his mother in law, the policeman on the street, and when he gets stuck in a jam, probably turn and glare at you and say, 'this is not done', 'I should not have agreed to come only'. Get an ipod, stick it in your ears and turn the volume up.
The Lech Automan - This variety will look you up and down and give a lopsided grin and cock his head and ask you to sit inside. Then, every few seconds adjust his rearview, and pretend to check for the gas lever right between your feet in a traffic signal. Stay away from dark roads and avoid after 8:00.
No matter who you catch, they always have a dramatic expression when you want them to go anywhere. Some will sigh at the mention of where you live, almost as if saying 'couldn't afford a better place huh?'; some will whine and say 'no return passenger, extra kodu'; some slow down the auto as if to tease you, sneer when you yell out your destination and ride away; some stop, listen to you, do some complicated math in their head, then ride away; some stand still, yawn, scratch their ears and say no without once looking at you.
So, after all this, when you finally find an automan who after all the pleading eyes, aye aye aye and finally ten rupees extra, agrees to ferry you home, you feel you ought to take a picture of the victorious moment.
Saturday, December 02, 2006
Monday, October 30, 2006
# 8 - TAKE A BREAK GOD, TV SHOPPING NETWORK IS HERE!
As I write this, Gouri ma is lying on her bed, measuring tape and instruction manual in hand, wishing her inches away while plugged in to the new magical inch minimising Smart Sauna.
Makes me wonder, is tele shopping network the modern day panacea for all evils?
Ask today's junta. While prayers offered to Gods in earlier days consisted of asking for good health and wealth, we've now progressed to include flawless skin, good hair, flat abs, winning Miss India and a chance to make it to Page 3.
And while Gods are easily placated with coins, coconuts and hard work, the tele shopping network claims to make you wish come true, effortlessly, just as long as you send along a nice little cheque.
And what wishes can your money buy?
Take your pick. A one minute slimmer that'll get you looking like a baywatch babe, the magical mini sew which will turn you into Martha Stewart, the ab king pro that gets you a six pack with no effort at all, the car scratch wipe that'll make your beaten up Maruti 800 look like a racing car etc etc etc.
Honestly, could God ever match up to all that?
Makes me wonder, is tele shopping network the modern day panacea for all evils?
Ask today's junta. While prayers offered to Gods in earlier days consisted of asking for good health and wealth, we've now progressed to include flawless skin, good hair, flat abs, winning Miss India and a chance to make it to Page 3.
And while Gods are easily placated with coins, coconuts and hard work, the tele shopping network claims to make you wish come true, effortlessly, just as long as you send along a nice little cheque.
And what wishes can your money buy?
Take your pick. A one minute slimmer that'll get you looking like a baywatch babe, the magical mini sew which will turn you into Martha Stewart, the ab king pro that gets you a six pack with no effort at all, the car scratch wipe that'll make your beaten up Maruti 800 look like a racing car etc etc etc.
Honestly, could God ever match up to all that?
Saturday, September 02, 2006
# 7 - ARE THERE MACKERELS ON PLUTO?
We had Mackerel for dinner today.
Gouri ma is Bengali, and like all Bengalis, very specific about her fish. That's river fish. Sweet and no smell. She makes sea fish, with her nose wrinkled politely, just for me. Mackerel, a sea fish, just like Seer and Pomfret, is one of my new favourites. So today, as I was wolfing down my fried Mackerel, rice and dal, I asked her a question.
"Ma, what do you call Mackerel in Bengali."
She calmly said, "We don't have a name for it. We don't eat this fish." and walked away, completely unaware of the bolts of lightening raining on my head.
Four days ago, I posted a question on Yahoo Answers! - Has modern science really moved on from what the ancient civilisations already knew and practiced? The obvious answer is yes, and I did get a lot of those.
But what i didn't get was a philosophical take on the question. I was looking for someone to shed light on, what do we, as humans, really need from life. How much of what we have learnt, that earlier civilisations did not know, is essential knowledge? Are we filling our minds with trivia that is not relevant, but merely adds more pages and diagrams to our text books ? Yes, modern medicine has cured plenty of diseases and life expectancy is higher than ever. But are these necessarily good? Would those diseases have existed if we led simpler lives? Would population be such a problem if life expectancy were lower? Are we interfering with nature?
Read somewhere that 'just because you give something a name, doesn't mean you understand it'.
In Grade 1, I learnt that there are nine planets. It was in my drawing book. And I had to paint over all of them. Pluto was the smallest and my crayons could never paint inside the circle. Today, as I read the news, I am told that that little planet no longer exists. Knowing about Pluto, apart from getting me a tick and an extra mark on my exam sheet, never featured in my life. But it has always been tucked away, occupying place in my mind. Now I know, that what I knew so long is no longer needed to be known.
This name changing altered some other lives though. Those that profited by its existence, like the discoverer's wife who was miffed that her husband' discovery is being slighted, and those that profited by its demotion, like Janis Robinson who sold T shirts that said, 'Pluto is a Planet' and others who have "Pluto, we hardly knew ye ... 1930-2006" posters and bumper stickers that say "Honk if Pluto is still a planet."
People on the street, making a living, will get used to it, because it was never essential. It was just a name. But essential things, like walking, talking, friends, parents, sense of smell, sleep. If they were declassified, we could not live on.
Today was my first storytelling class, and Geeta, out teacher, spent six hours telling us stories, and telling us about the most important quality of a storyteller, listening. But as humans evolved, first physically, then mentally, she said, we are getting more complicated in our thinking, and thus in our listening. We are not practicing full listening, instead growing into critical listeners, where we listen more to pick holes in what is being said, than to absorb.
She told us many stories, with her hands, her eyes, her voice, her body...instruments that we've had since we were born, instruments we will have even if a bomb destroys every living possession we have. I have always been too wary of trusting technology to such an extent that I forget how to live without it. I think its necessary to know how rice was made before the rice cooker, how fire was created before matches and
lighters, how to hunt for food, how to grow food, how to cook with the barest minimum ingredients...that is all that we really need to know. Everything else is just window dressing.
If we question ourselves, why do we live and die, what is our purpose on earth and how can we be happy doing that, we'll find simple answers. The greatest thinkers used simple thoughts, simple ideas - it's never about achieve more, learn more, know more, from something external. It's search within yourself, live simple, think simple. Be natural.
A friend of mine told me about expending energy. All creatures that live the longest, breathe the slowest, and expend less energy. They do as much as they have to do, and no more. And that's how they survive. But that isn't true of us anymore. We live to spread ourselves thin, expending energy, far beyond what we need for survival, filling our minds with much more data, our hands with more action, our eyes with more pictures, without pausing to assimilate why.
Coming back to my mother in law and the Mackerel. She seemed to have got it with her fish theory. What she didn't need was not relevant. An entire region and its people decided that they did not need a name for something, because they did not require it. Maybe Pluto would not have been missed if we followed life like the Bengalis follow their fish.
Gouri ma is Bengali, and like all Bengalis, very specific about her fish. That's river fish. Sweet and no smell. She makes sea fish, with her nose wrinkled politely, just for me. Mackerel, a sea fish, just like Seer and Pomfret, is one of my new favourites. So today, as I was wolfing down my fried Mackerel, rice and dal, I asked her a question.
"Ma, what do you call Mackerel in Bengali."
She calmly said, "We don't have a name for it. We don't eat this fish." and walked away, completely unaware of the bolts of lightening raining on my head.
Four days ago, I posted a question on Yahoo Answers! - Has modern science really moved on from what the ancient civilisations already knew and practiced? The obvious answer is yes, and I did get a lot of those.
But what i didn't get was a philosophical take on the question. I was looking for someone to shed light on, what do we, as humans, really need from life. How much of what we have learnt, that earlier civilisations did not know, is essential knowledge? Are we filling our minds with trivia that is not relevant, but merely adds more pages and diagrams to our text books ? Yes, modern medicine has cured plenty of diseases and life expectancy is higher than ever. But are these necessarily good? Would those diseases have existed if we led simpler lives? Would population be such a problem if life expectancy were lower? Are we interfering with nature?
Read somewhere that 'just because you give something a name, doesn't mean you understand it'.
In Grade 1, I learnt that there are nine planets. It was in my drawing book. And I had to paint over all of them. Pluto was the smallest and my crayons could never paint inside the circle. Today, as I read the news, I am told that that little planet no longer exists. Knowing about Pluto, apart from getting me a tick and an extra mark on my exam sheet, never featured in my life. But it has always been tucked away, occupying place in my mind. Now I know, that what I knew so long is no longer needed to be known.
This name changing altered some other lives though. Those that profited by its existence, like the discoverer's wife who was miffed that her husband' discovery is being slighted, and those that profited by its demotion, like Janis Robinson who sold T shirts that said, 'Pluto is a Planet' and others who have "Pluto, we hardly knew ye ... 1930-2006" posters and bumper stickers that say "Honk if Pluto is still a planet."
People on the street, making a living, will get used to it, because it was never essential. It was just a name. But essential things, like walking, talking, friends, parents, sense of smell, sleep. If they were declassified, we could not live on.
Today was my first storytelling class, and Geeta, out teacher, spent six hours telling us stories, and telling us about the most important quality of a storyteller, listening. But as humans evolved, first physically, then mentally, she said, we are getting more complicated in our thinking, and thus in our listening. We are not practicing full listening, instead growing into critical listeners, where we listen more to pick holes in what is being said, than to absorb.
She told us many stories, with her hands, her eyes, her voice, her body...instruments that we've had since we were born, instruments we will have even if a bomb destroys every living possession we have. I have always been too wary of trusting technology to such an extent that I forget how to live without it. I think its necessary to know how rice was made before the rice cooker, how fire was created before matches and
lighters, how to hunt for food, how to grow food, how to cook with the barest minimum ingredients...that is all that we really need to know. Everything else is just window dressing.
If we question ourselves, why do we live and die, what is our purpose on earth and how can we be happy doing that, we'll find simple answers. The greatest thinkers used simple thoughts, simple ideas - it's never about achieve more, learn more, know more, from something external. It's search within yourself, live simple, think simple. Be natural.
A friend of mine told me about expending energy. All creatures that live the longest, breathe the slowest, and expend less energy. They do as much as they have to do, and no more. And that's how they survive. But that isn't true of us anymore. We live to spread ourselves thin, expending energy, far beyond what we need for survival, filling our minds with much more data, our hands with more action, our eyes with more pictures, without pausing to assimilate why.
Coming back to my mother in law and the Mackerel. She seemed to have got it with her fish theory. What she didn't need was not relevant. An entire region and its people decided that they did not need a name for something, because they did not require it. Maybe Pluto would not have been missed if we followed life like the Bengalis follow their fish.
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