2S
Techie. Writer. Photographer.
Archive for bangalore
January 15, 2008 at 3:56 am · Filed under bangalore, terrorism
I’d like to share an incident that happened with me this morning, at about 9.00 AM in Bangalore. To give you a bit of history, I was on the way back to Bangalore, a fourteen-hour bus journey from a little town called Manchakal in Dakshin Karnataka, via Belmannu, Mangalore, Hassan, Kunigal and Nelamangala. To give you a few facts, I was starved, surviving on a lone Mangalore bottle of Thumsup that I picked up in a hurry - not Akshay Kumarlike, but hurry it was - and I had seat number 22W booked for me. ‘W’ stands for Window, and 22 stands for the last-but one seat in a bus that drove through some of the worst roads known to mankind. Needless to say, my body went flying on many occasions - suspended in mid-air for a bit - before it landed back on the seat, almost every time the bus driver gave up on slowing down before potholes. Every time it landed safely, I’d gasp an ‘oh’, say three ‘Hail-Mary’s, and then go back to listening Eminem curse America on the iPod.
So, here I am, back in smokey, chilly Bangalore. Dressed to counter Mangalore’s sizzling heat, so the teeth are chattering in frosty fright. I’m all cranky, I haven’t slept well and my back has been through the mill. I hop out of the bus at Yeshwantpur (The driver told me that he’ll “stop” at Yeshwantpur, but he ended up slowing down just enough for me to jump out of the bus whilst in motion, almost as if I were auditioning for a junior 007’s role in the next Bond flick). I arrive - on my feet, mercifully - and I look around for a rickshaw. Along he comes, greets me with thirty-one teeth and beckons me into his metallic three-wheeled excuse for a ride.
The distance is hardly eight kilometers, and surely it wouldn’t cost more than fifty rupees. Matching the absurdity of rents in Bangalore, dude in rickshaw whispers - and I managed to catch it in spite of my plight - a figure. 100 rupees. What was he driving, a rickshaw or a Concorde? Lucky for him, this year, I don’t curse, although he pushed his luck.
I walked out of the rick, still cranky, half-sleepy. Mumbled some random Kannada words which repeatedly questioned the existence of meters. At the mention of the word ‘meter’ - which, for a rickshaw driver equates to profane verbiage in rickshawtongue - he flinched, did a double-take, and then resorted to negotiation.
‘One and a half, sir’.
‘No.’ I was yawning, because of sleep, but it seemed to him that I was bored from his talk already. Good.
‘Twenty rupees extra sir’.
‘No.’ Threw in another yawn. In his face, and this time I didn’t bother stifling it either. Let Satan enter and exit as He wills.
‘Sir, fuel prices have increased’.
And then I let it all out. Fury that Yeshwantpur might have rarely seen from a normal citizen. Not-so-politely, I did remind him - and a crowd of about twenty rickshawdrivers who easily outnumbered me - that they went on a strike few days ago. That there are better ways of demanding better fares. That I don’t subscribe to their half-baked stupid ideology, that they should’ve protested when fuel rates went up, that they have always managed to survive with the high fuel rates, and that if they want to extract more money from passengers then the strike was meaningless. Because they’re getting overpaid anyway - by demanding such fares. And saying that, I walked away in a hurry. Where to - I didn’t know.
Until another rickshaw guy came running along, asking me where I wanted to be dropped. ‘Chinnappa Gardens’, I replied loudly, in absolute pride, as if it were the Palace and I was King Wodeyar myself. He nodded his head and walked away, beckoning towards his ride.
‘Not a single rupee more!’ I shouted, and he kept nodding. True to his word, the guy dropped me at my doorstep, and I paid him the fare to the exact rupee. I got out, he drove off. Transaction complete and that’s how it ought to be.
I used to have pity at times, but when I see a majority of them drowned in their booze, ruining their families, they don’t deserve it. So, these days, I give some stick back. And I hope the rest of the city does that too.
It’s about time they behave. And it’s no coincidence that I’ve filed this post under ‘terrorism’.
December 7, 2007 at 7:42 am · Filed under bangalore, personal
Had been ages since I’d taken an amusement ride. Roller-coasters, fast-springs, rotors, loved them all back in Dubai. Even the weird little ride in Mahabalipuram, where a little boat crawls to an elevated point and then comes crashing down into a pool. Suddenly, you’re all wet, your cellphone shows the wrong service provider, your i-Pod sounds nasal even if Himesh isn’t singing, and you’re in front of a board that reads ‘Funny Thunny‘.
For the lesser privileged folk non-Tamils, Thunny in Tamil translates to water in English. So, before I digress into Tamism, hush. Where were we? Oh, right, amusement rides.
My favorite amongst them, by far, were the bumper cars. Folks warned me to avoid ‘accidents’, but a few minutes in the park with arrogant Arab kids taught me otherwise. My plan was straightforward - crash into every car that didn’t look like an Indian drove it. An Arab was the norm, a Paki was a bonus. So I was a kid, I can be pardoned for being racist, relax. The point I’m driving home is, bumper cars were fun.
And they still are, especially in Bangalore. I can’t tell you guys how much I enjoyed my outing at the amusement rides today. Actually, I can.
For starters, I walked all the way from my office at EGL on Inner Ring Road till the stretch of Airport Road that enters Domlur, a distance of two-odd kilometers. It was cold, it was raining, and I managed it without a jacket or coffee. On the way, I asked several ricks. About six autos shook their heads when they heard me go ‘Chinnappa Gardens’. Like I was asking them to take me to Iraq or something. Three other autos asked for ‘twenty rupees more, saar’ to which I responded with a ‘thank you’ and walked on. Five autos actually had the nerve to go ‘one-and-a-half-saar’, and needless to mention, that didn’t even merit a response from me.
Before one guy, God bless his soul, took pity on me and mercifully jerked his head towards the interior. That’s where the ride began, during which I witnessed the following stunts:
Stunt #1 - Missed-by-a-Whisker - the rickshaw on the left lane, upon seeing a BMTC bus halted at the bus stop ahead, and seeing a Qualis speeding on the right lane, floors the accelerator and screams the three-wheeler past the oh-so-tiny gap between the immobile bus and a Qualis on the far side, approaching at over 60kph. Two seconds later, the rickshaw driver’s state remains unchanged - absolutely unperturbed - while the passenger manages a few million Hail Marys. The driver in the Qualis comes up with an equal number of the choicest of Kannada swear-words including the much-revered and intense T-word which is a direct reference to the rear of the human anatomy.
Stunt #2 - Kiss my ass - the rickshaw, in bumper-to-bumper traffic, attempts to overtake a ABS sedan just ahead, and in the process, does not brake hard enough. The result? A broken tail-light, a scratch on the rick, some paint lost, violence, vulgarity and profanity. And a meter that refuses to pause.
Stunt #3 - Side-scratch - now, this one takes immense skill to execute, but once mastered, is the most useful in terms of inflicting damage and agony. The rickshaw brings himself to a very close position next to a crisp-smelling, fresh-from-the-showroom silver Civic, and stops at the signal. Sedan in question sees the green light, and in enthusiasm, starts moving. Just then, the rick makes that slight change of angle to induce a huge scratch on the Civic. The sedan thinks he’s at fault, but hey, we know better.
Stunt #4 - Break-the-speed-breaker - the rickshaw simply continues speeding upon seeing a speed-breaker. The passenger in the rear jumps as a result of the force from the impact. On the rare occasion when his head doesn’t bang against the rick’s ceiling, he has avoided a shock, and in the process, is in a better state to detect the sharp rise in the fare as a result of that jump. Let’s not even mention the spilt coffee. Most Indians would continue praying in such a situation, although a foreigner might search for the seat belts. Well, dude, we don’t make seat belts in rickshaws. Too bloody bad for you.
Stunt #5 - and this is my personal favorite - the two-wheeler-mimicry - in which case, the rickshaw lives under the dangerous assumption that he is, in fact, a two-wheeler and attempts to fit the vehicle through the most absurd nanometric gaps in traffic. Gaps, which Andrea Stancu on a diet would struggle to fit through.
Seventy rupees, non-inclusive of meals. Nothing better than a few hours at the amusement park on a drizzly Bangalore evening, I tell you. If you’re lucky, you’ll also pick up some crunchy, unwilted Kannada swear-words, including this by richksaw-dude Ajith at a certain Devegowda: to suggest that he isn’t educated enough, when translated, this is how it goes:
He doesn’t have two letters on his ass, and he came to rule the state? Somebody tell him to shut the hole in his rear and go back to eating his spherical finger-millet paste.
Entertainment. Thrill. Guaranteed.
November 22, 2007 at 12:54 am · Filed under bangalore, personal
It was one of those nights where I didn’t feel like being at home. Instead, on the way back, I fabricated an insensitive ‘goodnight’ text and sent it to her, before driving to definitely my most favorite bit of Bangalore.
Cubbon park, for me, holds many special memories. Some bitter, some sweet, some bitter-sweet, and some … er … sexual. But I usually go there late Sunday nights, or on public holidays, just to see Vidhana Soudha illuminated, spectacularly symbolizing the might of the government. I have a special sentimental attachment to the building, and in particular, to the lighting.
And I was in for a surprise when I drove to Vidhana Soudha last night.
First off, why did I go there? Solitude is my best buddy - has always been - and I love to sit across the building, looking at it, and the surroundings, and contemplating my past, present and future. Perhaps it’s a personal thing, but that stretch of the city - for me - is Bangalore. Wide roads, decent traffic, greenery all around, no pungent stink of urine in the air. A very early 90s ‘Karnataka-ish’ feel. Something I might look back, and say, ‘home’.
And you probably know, that for someone who drives through a snail-paced M.G. Road, an erratic Airport Road, a hostile Ring Road and a jam-packed Koramangala - such a sight is rare.
So here I am, the Corsa’s parked on the main road, the parking lights are flickering, Richard Marx has spent about a minute and a half crooning ‘Right Here Waiting For You’, when the lights go on. And this wasn’t a half-lit Sunday midnight special. Nope. This was the full lighting. Every single one out there.
It lasted for less than a minute. Bliss, albeit momentarily.
I might add, I was thinking about myself, another unrecognizable blip on the radar of this state. I’m just another soul amongst the millions in this state. A state that was first orphaned, and now bastardized, without a stable leadership. Devegowda, who swims in a whirlpool of betrayal and yet manages to be the cause of it, has simply ruined any hopes of a stable government in this state. While his ’secular’ initiatives make sense, he’s well on his way to converting Karnataka into a monarchy, where only a Gowda can rule.
It’s horrible, because even when an able leader like M P Prakash attempts to form a government, with the support of the Congress (who is certainly more secular than the BJP), they’re wary of forming a coalition with the likes of HD.
I then tried to recall everything I saw through the day. Beggars on the streets? Rickshaw guys complaining? A cow wagging it’s rear on the center lane of the ring road? An old woman with as many wrinkles as her years, sweeping the streets? A modified Maruti Zen speeding past a signal that was counting down? A deadlock traffic situation between a Qualis and her cousin Innova? The slums, where power and water are as frequent as Halley’s comet?
Now, in the distance, I looked at Vidhana Soudha again. As strong as a fortress it stood, guarding both filth and gems. It was now plunged into darkness. Like the state itself. Like its people. Like … moi.
I then remembered what is inscribed on the entrance of the fortress. “Government Work is God’s Work.”
Well, there’s no government anymore. And the way things are going for my people, I’m wondering if there’s no God anymore either.
And if He is around, He’s left this state ages ago.
November 16, 2007 at 11:48 am · Filed under bangalore
There are two kinds of people who live in Bangalore. Those who complain about the traffic conditions, and those who don’t drive.
Right, so now that we’re all on the same page - that a driver-in-Bangalore = bitcher-in-Bangalore, a quick reality check. Peak traffic isn’t the most worrying bit about the city. Okay, so there’s pollution, and that leads to half of Bangalore’s kids suffering from Asthma. But that, honestly, isn’t the big worry.
For those of you - like me - who end up spending a lot of time driving at night (and in true Bangalorean sense, when I say night, I mean well past 11pm when the traffic lights are switched off and the girls are available for their second date of the evening), you’d find out it’s a nightmare. At first glance, it seems all too easy - a relief, perhaps - empty roads - the streets almost vacated for you to drive about smoothly.
But with BPOs and boozers only increasing in Bangalore, there’s a serious problem here. Firstly, the traffic lights, like I mentioned earlier, are switched off at 11pm. That leaves us in charge, and the traffic situation is quietly entrusted to the ‘public’, left to the intelligence (or stupidty) of us motorists. Let’s admit it, most of us are stupidly reckless, and worse, restless.
The average driver in Bangalore, upon sighting a pedestrian crossing, wouldn’t brake and hit the hazard and let the bloke pass. No. Instead, he’ll hit the accelerator so that he reaches the zebra-crossing before the pedestrian has, because this city now works at the speed of light. Time isn’t just money - it’s a fortune.
Morality
So - first things first - you do NOT switch off the traffic lights so early. Nope. You just don’t. And if you do, you make sure there are cops around to handle the situation.
Some might argue that the critical signals - like the ones at M. G. Road - work throughout the night. Well, yes, they do, but what’s the point? How many of us conform to it anyway? It doesn’t help that you look like a jackass waiting for the 19-18-17 … countdown to complete, as someone from behind you does a U-Turn from around you and speeds away. In hindsight, he ends up using lesser fuel, saving more money, saving more time. And what do you get by adhering to a rule? Zilch.
So does that mean you break the rules? No. Give me a jackass any day, because - for real - the more we start following the rules, the better the situation becomes.
Mortality
It sometimes disgusts me when people scream about the traffic situation in the city, especially at peak-hours or during the afternoon period. Tell you what - if there’s an ‘accident’ there, all you end up with is a little scratch or a dent on your vehicle. Which can be fixed. Which amounts to little.
But make a mistake at night and you deal with fatality.
The number of deaths in Bangalore have shot up, especially around the Hosur Road area, which falls under the Madiwala Traffic Police limits. This particular traffic police station has recorded the maximum number of deaths, as Old Madras Road, Outer Ring Road and the highways follow suit. Fewer accidents are recorded around Central Bangalore - in fact, the Cubbon Park Traffic Police Station recorded just one death last year - although Cubbon Park, at night, is famous for reasons besides driving.
It’s interesting to note that most of the areas affected include IT strongholds - including the Electronic City, Sarjapur Road and the EGL Business Park. None of these ring-roads or highways have decent provisions for pedestrians to cross either, which only increases the risk.
With IT only growing in the city, it’s about time people realise the implications of bringing in more techies, and worsening the situation. For those of you who drive at night it really makes sense to ensure some of the following and avoid accidents while driving at night:
Do NOT ignore the seat-belt if you’re driving over 40kph. Nothing could be worse than having to brake behind the all-new-SX4 fitted in with state-of-the-art extra-sensitive ABS and find your head stuck in the steering wheel, and find your girlfriend’s head through the windscreen.
Do NOT drive if you’re drunk, depressed, or doped. You’re better off spending the night on the porch of the girl who ditched you rather than inflicting genocide on the streets. And yes, three Vodkas and a Swift count as drunken driving, make no mistake.
Do NOT, I repeat, do NOT break a one-way rule. I have seen the aftermath of one such mistake, a truck crashing head-on into an Esteem who decided to make the one-way a two-way, and ended up taking a one-way ticket to heaven. Or hell. The Esteem was crushed to half its width. Unrecognizable.
Tap the brakes lightly while approaching a U-Turn even if you’re on one of the ring-roads or the highway. Call-center vehicles - Sumos, especially - have this awkward habit of forcing their metalhood through a bit of the orifice, just to ensure that the car speeding in the distance brakes and gives him way. At midnight, you’re priority is to reach home safely and not to challenge an erratic-Hamilton-like-cab-driver.
Do NOT make love while the vehicle is in motion, for crying out loud. It’s uncomfortable, unhealthy, and hazardous to the others, screwing things up in more ways than one.
Do NOT use the cellphone while you are at a high speed. Honestly, you just dropped her off a few minutes ago, and the ‘I-miss-you-sweetheart’ SMS can wait till your car hits a signal or home.
Always remember - you are a responsible citizen driving from point A to point B. You’re not Kimi in Sao Paolo. Yes, it’s fun to speed - and go ahead, enjoy yourself - but it ought to be done in moderation. We care little if you kill yourself while speeding. We just don’t want you to kill the others.
And yes - yours truly has taken a silent vow that he wll never break a traffic rule again unless it’s a life-critical emergency (which, incidentally, includes missing the Powerplays of a cricket match). On a serious note, I won’t break traffic rules ever. No jumping signals, no one-way violations. This city gives me a warm welcome and a load of opportunity everytime I visit it.
I won’t participate in ruining it. And I hope you don’t either.
October 15, 2007 at 11:58 pm · Filed under bangalore, bollywood, movies, telly
Just so many flicks, so many reviews and so much to write about. Which is why, I now bring you Showbiz Sporadics - rantings, rumblings and other randomness from the world of Cinema and Telly.
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Laaga Chunari hasn’t exactly opened to good reviews - but it’s a Pradeep Sarkar flick, so I’ll check it out anyway, although I might steer clear of Bhool Bhulaiyya - or what they also call Bhoolshit Bulaiyya. Priyadarshan needs to get new wine.
Looking at the horrible flicks lined up, I might be tempted to catch the Loins of Punjab Presents yet again. Atleast I get to see Shabana Azmi addressed as a you-know-what. And, hey, the ass-wiping too. If you’re lost, it’s probably ‘coz you haven’t seen it yet, so yes - you deserve to be lost - in which case, go watch!
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This weekend, however, was all about the SaReGaMaPa Finals. Aneek Dhar won - congrats chief, you’re technically tops amongst the trio although I really thought Raja was the better singer. Amanat Ali has it all to connect to his audience, and when he sings with the heart, that’s a killer. In the end, it didn’t really matter who won, although many have used Aneek’s victory to spark of a racist issue.
Apparently, a ‘Hindu’ won over two ‘Muslims’, and that makes it uncomfortable. And I thought we had a singing competition here. It’s just sickening. Folks are out there making their names with the ’singing’, I repeat, ’singing’. Doesn’t matter if you’re a poor Poonam, a Muslim Amanat or a NRI Dave. Himesh can rant all he wants about Aneek being the youngest of the finalists, but we ought to pick the best one there, period.
No racism, no religion. Just music. Easy, no?
Which reminds me, folks, does it help that Akshay Kumar went on stage and switched between ‘Eid Mubarak’ and ‘Hare Krishna Hare Ram’? That, if any, is some indication of what we all know at Mutiny as ’secular fundamentalism’. Oh, and Akshay Kumar said ‘thank you’ thrice, and even offered to clap for them. He did look like he was a tad sloshed. Until Vidya Balan walked onto the stage. Women like that can knock sanity into men and lose it at will, especially when clad in a black sari. We digress, but you get the idea. And we were just dying to know about Bhool Bulaiyya, weren’t we? As Akshay says, ek sachi kahani hai jo kayyrala mein hui thi. It’s Kerala, sloshy. Vidya Balan dropped in a word before the teasers - please do watch it, bahut pyaar se banaye hai hum ne.
No kidding?
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Did Aditya Narayan actually render ‘This Love’, or was he lip-syncing? My hunch is that it’s the former, and if that’s really true, that’s one hell of a performance! Your dad really rocks kid, but if you go on singing like that, whew! No wonder you seem to have Mauli Dave all over you, and speaking of the girl, did she really have to walk in a little-under-nothing - and shake that booty - to kick-ass with Mayya Mayya? Er, oops, I forgot - it wasn’t a singing competition after all. My bad.
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The only thing that Rakhi Sawant needs to get into Hollywood seems to be English. For her sake, for Nach Baliye’s sake, and for a whole country’s sake, will someone please teach her the language? Heck, Rakhi, just drop in home yaar and I’ll educate you on the few ABCs I know. I really do want to see you in Hollywood.
That’ll hopefully ensure we see a lot lesser of you back home. Read the rest of this entry »
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