X-Y-Z theory

About 10 years ago, my mother in law and father in law came to Bangalore (where we live). They stayed with us for a few weeks, like they do even to this day. As part of their visit, my wife suggested we go to Mysore and do some sight seeing there since my in-laws had not seen the city. We made arrangements and got going. I have a cousin who lives in Mysore and I just mentioned this to her. Her husband, who is ever ready to help anyone, and who doesn't even wait to be asked for help, immediately said that he would arrange a local taxi for sight seeing from a reputed tourist taxi hiring agency in Mysore. He did that, called us over for dinner one day and prepared dinner himself (since my cousin was away from Mysore) and took abundant care of us. My mother in law was surprised to see a person, who is not closely related, helping us so much. He suggested the itinerary and route for visiting a few temples around Mysore too.

This incident made a deep impact on me. Till then, I felt that I needed to help only those people who asked for my help. And here was a man who was going out of the way to help others - even when they didn't ask for it. Pro-active.

I quickly realized that I could not help him back in any way. He was not only independent, but probably because of his nature, he would not "ask" for help. Some introspection was required to know how to give back what I received. So I decided that I would help others.

Now my theory is slightly different from the thinking that most people adopt. If X has helped Y or given her some money, Y needed to return the favour to X either in cash or in kind. If X did not need any help from Y, she would wait for such help to be asked. It works like the debit-credit facility in a bank. You can draw money to the extent you have credit, otherwise maybe overdraft facility will be available, but that would depend on the "kindness" of the manager of the bank.

I decided that as far as I was concerned, if X helps Y, and Y helps Z then the equation is balanced. If each of us practice this theory in our lives, we will see goodness spread.

I told about this theory of mine to an Office Manager in an organisation where I worked briefly. He just laughed and said, "Saheb, sab aapki tarah Gandhi nahi ho sakte" (meaning Sir, all of us cannot be a Gandhi like you). I know it was said more in sarcasm than in good humour.

I want to know, is it so difficult to practice this theory?

Age of Innocence

We grew up in a township in Ranchi (now in Jharkhand, but then in the early 1960's, in Bihar). It was just being formed and the houses were new and would often leak during the monsoon rains, the roads unpaved, the gardens and playgrounds being developed, no hospital yet, just an MI room (you can see in the building in the background with the red + sign).

But that age was an age of innocence, of finding happiness in small pleasures and treasures, of playing in whatever facilities were available. Even a heap of sand was a playground, where we could make some tunnel, and imagine a stone (as a car) moving through it as if we were driving a car through a tunnel in a mountain.

This photo is priceless in our family not because of any great photo composition or lighting, exposure, contrast or any such other gimmicks. If I remember right, the camera was a basic pin-hole type camera which took a 120 mm film (good for 16 exposures per roll). It is great because it shows the three of us (siblings) laughing. And laughing for God knows what reason. It is also priceless because we were spontaneous and enjoying the moment. I remember there were many such moments in our childhood, but this photo is the only one that captures our days in Ranchi - the days that we cannot forget, the days that we yearn to go back to.

If you look closely you can see the safety pins holding the blouse of my sister (to the right) in place. She obviously did not believe in "dressing" herself up before being "shot". That came later when she started going to college. We couldn't afford many good dresses anyway, and probably all we had then were a couple of "wearable" but washed and clean clothes. I don't recall ever any of us having worried about that or comparing ourself with other 'well to do' guys in the township. A township life is not easy since in a small place the General Manager's kid is also sharing the same space as a clerk's child. Probably they would have to go to the same school. I don't recall my father ever having to say to me not to move or be friends with some guys just because we wouldn't gell together or we were not of the same 'status'.

An age of innocence perfectly captured for posterity.

When will the Time Machine be ready, man?

Minor luxuries

Kishore was in a hurry. He was getting late and his lunch was not ready. He works in a small pharma contract manufacturing company near Peenya. His job was to supervise the production line and though the job was in two shifts, due to his seniority, he was always in the general shift and would take over some line when the line supervisors needed breaks for tea, snacks, toilet or lunch. The practice of not stopping the line came about because of Kishore's idea to the MD, wherein he suggested a small crew of people who would rotate among various lines to give breaks to workmen and supervisors and ensure the line ran for the full shift. He liked giving ideas; but was averse to being late for work. Now Smitha was not punctual in preparing his lunch and he was getting agitated.

"Where is the lunch box? Should I eat in the staff canteen today?"

"Just two minutes. The 'subzi' is about to be ready and I have to make one more roti for you. Can't you wait?"

"My regular bus will leave, and I will have to take the next bus, which will be crowded. I won't get a seat. How many times have I to tell you this. Can't you wake up just 10 minutes before to keep my lunch ready?"

"Don't forget, I too work in a factory."

"Yeah, but your time is 10 am. My work starts at 8.30."

"But I have to leave Suresh at his school, you know. And here is your lunch box. Now get going."

Kishore hurried out. Generally his bus would be late by about 5-10 minutes at the bus stop. It was only 3 minutes beyond his regular time. Hopefully, he wouldn't miss the bus. On the other hand, today being a festival day, the traffic was also light. He needed to know if the bus had already left his stop. Should he call his friend Shyam, who too travelled to Peenya by the same bus?

Yes, he had missed the bus today. Now the next bus would be here after 10 minutes. He not only had to wait, but would also have to push into a crowded bus. Smitha! All because of her.

Hmm. Entered the bus. Deep breath. Both feet firmly on the floor of the bus. Good. Hand on the rail above. Great. Minor luxuries. Now he needed to move towards the centre of the bus to be able to get a seat, if some passenger alighted from the bus.

Slow movement past school kids with their inflated bag and lunch box; ladies with their oversized bags (what items do these ladies carry? We are able to accommodate everything in our pockets, aren't we? Need to ask Smitha about it tonight. But only if she is in a good mood), old men going to the post-office or the bank to collect their pension. No! Bank holiday today. Then where do these old guys go during peak hour? There should be a law preventing people who are not commuting for work from crowding the bus during peak hours. These oldies and retired guys can travel around 10 or 11 when there is less crowd, no! Having difficulty themselves, and creating problems for the commuters also. Maybe BMTC should run a senior-citizen special. He laughed at his own ideas.

Standing in the middle of the bus now, but somehow need to move near one of the seats or the vertical rod to be able to rest my back, he thought. That is also accomplished. What about the handle above? All are already taken. Kishore is 5'3" and if he stretches his hand and holds the horizontal rod, he feels uncomfortable. Yes, that handle is now released. Grab it. Done. Both feet on the floor. No one is pushing. Back resting on one of the seats, hand on the handle grip. Everything is fine. Life is back to normal and the world looks good.

Minor luxuries!

Food - Art and Science

We love to eat. There are some poor souls who only eat to live. I, on the other hand, can shamelessly say, that I love good food and am particularly fond of sweets. I dabble in cooking and there are frequent arguments with my wife as to "how" to cook. As to the subject of "what" to cook, I have long ago given up trying to fix the menu for the day, as my suggestions are shot down on one pretext or the other. So if she asks me at all as to what to cook, I just shrug and keep quiet. After all, discretion is the better part of valour, if valour means getting into verbal jousts with wife.

While cooking, I have tried to understand the science behind the cooking rather than the 'art' of cooking. I believe that cooking is PHYSICS  and CHEMISTRY. If we understand what happens using the principles of these two sciences, we have understood cooking. Addition of ingredients at the right time ensures that the reactions are favourable and the essence of the flavours that we want our food to have, occur correctly. Heating at full flame or at half flame also is rooted in reactions that take place to ensure that the cooking happens and the food doesn't burn.

Lemon (or any acidic material) and milk should be as far away as possible while cooking or we should be prepared for curdling to happen. Sugar needs to be added only when the cooking of the vermicelli is done or it won't cook properly. Addition of sugar or salt will reduce the "viscosity" of the product since they "release" water, so we should take that into account during our cooking process.

So is food only science and not art? In my opinion, art comes into the picture only for the presentation of the food at the table for visual appeal. If the food that I cook is presented poorly, my guests (or my family) will turn up their noses and avoid that item, however well it may have been cooked. However, an average food can gain a few points if presented well. Most times we assess the food based on our eyes and our noses. Tongue come last. So however well we understand the science of cooking, we must keep in mind that our "customers" will see and smell our product before tasting.

Bonsai

I am not a gardening type. I don't know anything about plants, flowers, grafting, tending, watering, growing, variety, seasonal flowers. Nothing. Writing about this subject is impossible if I know zilch. But still I need to plod on and write about an amazing experience that I had yesterday.

I have been in Bangalore for the last 17 years and have visited Lalbagh many times - the latest being about a month ago when my wife's cousin planned a picnic there.

But how did I miss Bonsai park within Lalbagh and near the East gate (the one leading to Double road or K.H. Road)? I don't know.

Yesterday, I decided to meet a friend and associate for discussions in Lalbagh. It was a spur of the moment decision to meet there. The benefits of meeting in Lalbagh are that you can relax in a park with relatively pristine surroundings, low noise (especially if it is in the late morning on a working day), and since there are numerous places for a walk, it is healthy too. To top it all, there is ample parking space and it costs Rs. 20 for the car as well as admission charges per adult! With no eating places inside, you can resist the temptation for a snack or a coffee - more healthy!

After our discussions, while we decided to walk back to the parking lot, upon an impulse we went to an area cordoned off and with an imposing arch. Inside we found a board proclaiming that it is a Bonsai Park. Well, the photos below show how good the park is. Some of the trees are said to be 40 to 50 years old!

The park with the overview of the "trees" arranged in a symmetrical way with pathways for people to move around. When we went there was hardly anyone around and it felt as if the park was for us to see and explore.

 Worth visiting once at least if you are in Bangalore.

Open letter to Lewis Hamilton

Its the F1 season in India and the media is full of sound and video bites from the drivers. The circuit at Noida has been praised by all drivers and they are thankful they have to drive there and not on Indian roads!

Lewis Hamilton has this to say, "“There must be some fantastic drivers in India, I am sure,” he said, only half joking. “I cannot fathom how vehicles converge at any given point from all directions at the same time and no one hits anyone. They all move away smoothly. Thank goodness, I do not drive on Indian roads.” (comment from here).

I am sorry, Lewis. There are hardly any "fantastic" drivers in India. If by "fantastic", you mean those guys who:

• drive at night with hi-beam always - even when they are driving on well illuminated roads, or driving at 10 kmph.
• overtake from your left on a narrow road even if you are turning left.
• drive on the wrong side of the road with full lights on during the day as if that gives them the right to drive on the wrong side (even though for them it is the "right" side).
• drive while talking on their mobile phones without the "benefit" of a headset or bluetooth device.
• cut across all forms of vehicles to park on the right side of the road.
• double park near the shop and put their hazard lights on - again as if that confers on them the right to park wherever.
• honk as soon as the traffic light turns green - even if they are ten cars behind.

You are wrong to presume that all cars converge, and as if a miracle has happened, no one touches any other car. It is not a miracle. In India, drivers somehow manage to possess two eyes on either side of their head and keep looking at all the three rear view mirrors while driving. It is something that antelopes and Thomson gazelles do in Africa - always looking around for predators. In India every other car is a predator and you are the prey.

We do it because of a genetic miracle conferred on us by a team of God and the Traffic Police so that they (Traffic police) don't have to do the work they are supposed to do - regulate traffic. It is not that cars do not touch others. I am yet to see a car without a dent or a scratch on Indian roads and however careful you may be, you are not guaranteed that idiots are not behind or by your side. We, in India, tolerate small scratches and dents and call it our "karma". In Tamil, we also say "karumam" (untranslatable, but nothing to do with the overwhelming affection for mothers and sisters that Virat Kohli is famous for).

Next year when you do come to India, please come down to Chennai, Bangalore or better still to Hyderabad and drive around at 6 pm near Begumpet or Nampally. I am sure the experience will be wonderful for you when you drive on that race track of yours. 

Scratch

How my car got a scratch on the passenger side door? No, I didn't hit anything or anyone. Happened about a couple of months ago. I had just left our apartment and turned into the road, when I saw a guy on a motorbike pointing out and indicating to me to stop my car. I checked all doors to see if they were closed properly. Yes, they were. Next I wanted to know if my indicator lights were on. No, they were not on and pointing in the wrong direction. So why is this chap stopping me, I thought. Anyway, I parked by the side of the road. This guy gets down from the bike, walks up to me and wants me to open my door. I refuse and want to know what is his problem. He starts blaming me for my "poor driving" and says that he fell down because of me and do I know driving? I racked my brain for a few seconds to wonder if I had seen him, or whether my car had made contact with his bike in the two minutes that had elapsed. No. Then what is this guy accusing me of?

Fortunately, I had not opened the windows, and the doors were firmly locked preventing that guy from getting in the car or trying to act smart. I just said, I didn't know what he was talking about, and sped off. While on my way I kept wondering if I had seen him earlier, or would see him later. When I parked my car and shut the doors, I noticed that during the couple of minutes that he was talking to me from the passenger side door, he had managed to scratch the door with his motorbike key! Possibly his idea of "revenge" - for what, I still don't know.

Adventures in "catching a train"

Recently I had an occasion to travel with Meena, my wife, to Tirunelveli from Bangalore. I had booked a ticket by Bangalore - Nagercoil Express from Bangalore city. The departure time was 11 pm. Enough time to reach the station, and wait for the train to arrive. I thought we could board the train at Bangalore Cantt station - just 6 kms from home. Getting an auto would not be a problem and we could be well in time.

There was a strike call by BMTC (city bus service) and KSRTC (intra- and inter-state bus service) and I read reports that auto drivers were charging inflated fares from passengers. To avoid any last minute harassment from the auto drivers, Meena suggested a call-taxi. I booked a taxi for pick up at 9.45 pm to Bangalore City station thinking that if I mentioned Bangalore Cantt as the drop off point, I may not get the taxi.

We left home at 9.45 and the taxi driver started. Within a couple of kilometers it started raining. Nothing unusual, we said to ourselves. Happens everytime we leave Bangalore.

The strike had brought out all vehicles (private buses, mini vans, cars, scooters, motor-cycles) to the road that day. The road to City station near Seshadripuram was chock full. Massive traffic jam. Nothing unusual there too. Happens most times, but the traffic keeps moving. Would take us 15 minutes instead of 5. But I had not factored in many variables. The Metro construction work had blocked half the road. The signals were turning red without many vehicles crossing it. To top it all, the rain had intensified. It was 10.10 pm and I thought, we still have enough time to reach the station, no worries!

For around 10 minutes it seemed as if we were stuck in the same place. Was there a shop advertising or stocking Fevicol?

After 10.30, I started worrying. I asked the driver as to what other options he had. I knew there was none. The road in front was blocked, the road behind had vehicles of all types piled up. We had to wait. We reached the signal. 10.35. Now before we could cross the signal, it turned red. Cars and vans started coming from all directions. No policeman in sight to control the traffic. Rains unabated.

10.40: the driver somehow managed to take a different route and I asked him to cut across the bus stand to somehow reach the station. Rains lessened near Bus stand.

Free traffic now. We reached the station at 10.52. Train was at 11.05. I hoped the train would be on Platform 1, if not at least in Platforms 2 or 3. It was on Platform 8. We had to climb the stairs and walk some distance. I didn't know if our coach would be closer to the stairs on Platform 8 or further away. As per the luck that we were having, I feared it may be just on the opposite end!

As Meena hurried towards the steps leading to Platform 8, there was an announcement that the train was to depart from Platform 9. A climb up stairs required for those already on Platform 8. Fortunately, there was no train on Platform 9. We relaxed. Our coach position was fourth from the engine, and we were currently somewhere close to the rear end of the platform. We walked on. The train was late and came to the station only at 11.20 pm. 

I had my doubts when I saw the train departure from Platform 9. I was talking to my co-passengers and wanted to know if the train would go via Cantt station. They all said, "Yes, we would go via Cantt station." I said that there were no tracks which would lead us towards Cantt side from Platform 8 to 10. They said, no no, this train does touch Cantt station. I thought maybe the Railways have laid connecting tracks. However, the train didn't go via Cantt station. It went via Yeshwantpur. We were all wrong.

I was left wondering... What would have happened to me if there was no strike call? I would have taken an auto to Cantt station and waited for some time and got into a frenzy after realizing my mistake. The strike call by BMTC made us book a taxi, and I instinctively booked the taxi to City station.

There were two persons who were silently aligned with the Unions that day!

Use by date

I am amazed by the number of items we have collected over the years. I envy the family which can discard used items like toys, books, magazines, furniture, vessels, wires, old bulbs, watches, and other knick-knacks without any remorse as soon as they feel that they have had enough of it! Somehow, I never find time to do the house-keeping and discarding old things that have accumulated over the years. I still find old network cables, old mobile phones that do not hold battery charge for more than 2 minutes, electrical sockets and plugs, and other items around. They have an uncanny knack of popping up when I am searching for an item, as if calling me out and saying, "Remember me?"

I played with you!

I recently saw a stuffed toy lying outside my neighbour's house kept there with the refuse waiting for the garbage collector to come and throw it away. The face somehow conveyed to me a distress unseen in a toy that is generally played with by kids. Did the toy somehow realize that either the kid who played with it is now older, and hence out-grown, or the kid wanted something new to play with , got it and hence had no use for he older toy. I wouldn't know. Somehow, I didn't feel it would be appropriate to ask!

Footprints

I had an occasion to visit my hometown, Ariyanayakipuram village, in Tirunelveli district a couple of days ago (14th Sep 2012) and came back humbled. The temple complex in our village has three shrines - one for the presiding deity, Ariyanayaki ambal, Kasi-Vishwanath, and Iyappan (Sastha). The three shrines are independent temples in the same complex and though we reached the temple around 7.45 after visiting 3 other temples in the vicinity, we were surprised to see it open. After darshan in the temple, I went in search of the shrine of Kasi Vishwanath.

(Plaque in the temple mentioning Shri Gopinatha Iyer's 
effort in installing the idol in the temple)

The lingam is supposed to have been brought from Varanasi by my ancestor - about 13 generations past - Shri Gopinatha Iyer. A plaque mentioning his contribution in installing the lingam is displayed in the shrine. Merely looking at it gave me goosebumps since in his day, roughly 250 years ago, there were no trains. A visit to Varanasi was a pilgrimage, daunting in its own right. Many people who undertook the pilgrimage, would not return. Crossing the Vindhyas may have been a challenge to most people. Shri Gopinatha Iyer may have had to face many challenges enroute. Sadly, I don't know of his adventures, though I believe that he may have brought the lingam on his head from Varanasi. The distance between Varanasi and Ariyanayakipuram (in Tirunelveli) is more than 2,500 kms. Why did he undertake such an arduous journey? What was his motivation? In the absence of any written word on it, we can only speculate. Was he part of the group of people who wanted to establish temples and renovate them in Tirunelveli? Was he part of a larger group of pilgrims who went with similar motivations and beliefs?

I also happened to visit my grandfather's erstwhile house - which he vacated upon his death in 1974. The house was sold since by my father and his siblings. The current owner, allowed us access to see the house.

We perform some task; leave our footprints in the sands of time; and our progeny may look at our work with wonder and surprise. I am happy that my ancestor had an occasion to leave an indelible mark in his village, which I, 13 generations removed, could see.