Tippasandra market is so congested, everyone living nearby wud agree to it. Its so narrow wid 1/3rd occupied for parking vehciles and balnce of d road is wat is left for vehciles of all forms and sizes. To top it are our heoric vehicle drivers who dare us to drive when they r in d opposite direction despite d road being a one-way. Even a slightest idiocacy or manuvere goes wrong, half d road will be jammed, even a new born in Tippasandra wud vouch for that. Nothing new huh? seri matterukku varen.
After nice dosa dinner at Akka kaienthi bhavan, my rommie & me reached our fav juice shop for some cane juice. Sipping d juice, we noticed a police jeep zip & stop alomost in the middle of road. Looked like SI & his chamcha of a constable wanted a juice & they walk to d shop leaving d jeep rite in d middle of d road. Unfettered abt wat traffic their unparked jeep wud cause, they were ordering mausambi, cane, butterfruit, pomegranate and....Then d scene goes like this - our red gargantuan Volvo ends up rite behind cop jeep which is now a nandi or a buffalo on d road...d timing was so perfect, SI was about to take his 1st gulp and d volvo driver, honks madly that stray dogs start to run too...now our SI is engrossed in such an important job, aka scketching 26/11 terrorists...his face truns red as his concentration on d juice is jolted like munivars react when their thavams r interrupted. His ching-chak, notices and in a process to show is mariyadhai to his yejamaan, yells at d driver to cross over, in d gap of some 2-3 inches bet d bus & jeep. Any able driver cud do that, but problem wasnt that, bus driver was shouting to explain dat d hanging branches of d trees on d roadside wud damage roof of d bus and wanted d jeep to give way 4 him to swerve and drive wo any damage to d bus...of course, bus is worth nearly a crore, whose heart wont pain for even a scratch on it...but then our SI is so much enjoying his juice, he cares a damn but only for d bitterness in his glass of pomegranate juice. Constable threatens driver, abuses, foul mouths, and d meek drivers staggers slowly with trees branches screeching, scrathing his lovely bus...Traffic is now crossed beyond my eye sight...all cause of one act of arrogance of our upholders of law...POLICE!! Bus scrambles out, other vehicles follow route, luckily things clear out slowly after some 15 mins...every passerby in vehicle, stares at d jeep as if it was Kasab on d road...
Our Police guys finish juices, 6 in all and drive off...without paying even a ruppee...i look into d eyes of our juice stall owner and then to my roomies and another customer....all ve only expression...EXPRESSION OF ANGER....
Monday, November 23, 2009
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
Triplicane - Peregrination into Past
Triplicane - one of d oldest & most bustling place in Chennai. I wud say its d nosiest, crampiest, dirtiest place but also d sweetest, warmest place at heart. I grew up there, 1st 10 years of my life were spent there. And I loved every bit of time I spent there growing. But then, things changed, we got our own house in suburban chennai, Villivakkam & moved, one & for all. But my love 4 that place remained at heart with memories to last forever. I never visited Triplicane much past 15 years, hardly had a reason to go there & staying far away from city, didnt even think to travelling so long too. But I longed to visit it. Last saturday, I got a chance to ve a nice ride around places where I lived, played, strolled, rolled (!!), studied, enjoyed, missed....
My last visit to proper visit to Triplicane was GOK. I was jus thinking of returning home, after dropping my mom in her office last sat'day, that suddenly I thought y not visit Triplicane and also blog d experience?? And then i decided, yes its time and I was heading towards old home following my school route from Gopalapuram. I used to get dropped in a cycle Rickshaw with another 8 kids. I wonder know how we all fitted in that little vehicle and a puny rick puller used to bear all our weight and peddal all d way smoking his beedi, playing MGR songs. I just headed to Royapettah where, I realised I had forgotten d route, obviously...then after enquiring a passer-by, I reached Triplicane High Road, Big Mosque junction...things unfolded b4 me in B&W. Ice House, I knew d lane from where our rick used to enter d Ice House rd, I stopped a couple of houses where my old friends used to get in, well didnt know they still stay there or not. Entering one of d lanes, i noticed, Triplicane had truely transformed. So many flats in d cramy lanes whr 2 bikes coming in opposite directions wud get stuck, & even more shops...I still remember, these lanes used to be so free & with Odu veedus (tiled roof houses)...everything gone today...but still home is home at d end, i still love d place. There was aura of holiness and tradition still lingers all thro' d place.
My old homes at VR Pillai st & another at OVM st to which we shifted for a brief period. They unvieled a scene of d movie 'Autograph' b4 me..man, i can empathise wat cheran wud ve felt to see old people, old places...Then came d temples which were my favorite in my childhood, though now i hardly get time to visit them...d huge Parthasarthy temple & d gigantic ther outside d temple, small but equally holy Raghavendra temple...Ganesh temple at Big st...my fav one & fav god...i dont know how many pradhakshanams i wud ve made there praying for everything & anything of childish desires.
Half of our neighbours had vansihed, either to abroad or other cities...so many new faces all around, except few shops and houses we knew which existed thro' time.
Certain hangouts of those days were degree coffe stall at triplicane market, ratna cafe, were still there...drawing people in thousands even today..my dad used to take me there every sunday for a wonderful b'fast of hot idlies & steaming sambar. Queen store, Rex fashions, hundreds of second hand books shops near Ghosh hospital, Jam bazaar, Chepauk stadium, parakum train (MRTS), PWD office, Madras University, Marina beach...everything remain till data reminding of place...d mad crowd, wandering cows, cranky cycle ricks, mosque chants, numerous mosques with people from all over india, bustling markets...Man, thats Triplicance for you - one gr8 landmark place of Chennai forever.
After meeting a few friends and my old landlords, it was time to leave...of course, that wasnt so pleasant a feeling....but then, villivakkam beckons me....bye bye Triplicane...miss u always...
My last visit to proper visit to Triplicane was GOK. I was jus thinking of returning home, after dropping my mom in her office last sat'day, that suddenly I thought y not visit Triplicane and also blog d experience?? And then i decided, yes its time and I was heading towards old home following my school route from Gopalapuram. I used to get dropped in a cycle Rickshaw with another 8 kids. I wonder know how we all fitted in that little vehicle and a puny rick puller used to bear all our weight and peddal all d way smoking his beedi, playing MGR songs. I just headed to Royapettah where, I realised I had forgotten d route, obviously...then after enquiring a passer-by, I reached Triplicane High Road, Big Mosque junction...things unfolded b4 me in B&W. Ice House, I knew d lane from where our rick used to enter d Ice House rd, I stopped a couple of houses where my old friends used to get in, well didnt know they still stay there or not. Entering one of d lanes, i noticed, Triplicane had truely transformed. So many flats in d cramy lanes whr 2 bikes coming in opposite directions wud get stuck, & even more shops...I still remember, these lanes used to be so free & with Odu veedus (tiled roof houses)...everything gone today...but still home is home at d end, i still love d place. There was aura of holiness and tradition still lingers all thro' d place.
My old homes at VR Pillai st & another at OVM st to which we shifted for a brief period. They unvieled a scene of d movie 'Autograph' b4 me..man, i can empathise wat cheran wud ve felt to see old people, old places...Then came d temples which were my favorite in my childhood, though now i hardly get time to visit them...d huge Parthasarthy temple & d gigantic ther outside d temple, small but equally holy Raghavendra temple...Ganesh temple at Big st...my fav one & fav god...i dont know how many pradhakshanams i wud ve made there praying for everything & anything of childish desires.
Half of our neighbours had vansihed, either to abroad or other cities...so many new faces all around, except few shops and houses we knew which existed thro' time.
Certain hangouts of those days were degree coffe stall at triplicane market, ratna cafe, were still there...drawing people in thousands even today..my dad used to take me there every sunday for a wonderful b'fast of hot idlies & steaming sambar. Queen store, Rex fashions, hundreds of second hand books shops near Ghosh hospital, Jam bazaar, Chepauk stadium, parakum train (MRTS), PWD office, Madras University, Marina beach...everything remain till data reminding of place...d mad crowd, wandering cows, cranky cycle ricks, mosque chants, numerous mosques with people from all over india, bustling markets...Man, thats Triplicance for you - one gr8 landmark place of Chennai forever.
After meeting a few friends and my old landlords, it was time to leave...of course, that wasnt so pleasant a feeling....but then, villivakkam beckons me....bye bye Triplicane...miss u always...
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
An afternoon with a Government Beurocrat
At last I am blogging, something like getting out of a deep, long slumber. Well, this weekend, I had experienced a lot, which sure needed to b blogged...i dont want them to escape memory...Not this one atleast...
It was on Saturday, both my parents were working that day, quite unlike for Government Employees, but yes, there was this special ocassion & they had to gruel it out on a weekend. My dad left early and since I was nearly jobless, I offered to drop my mom at her Office. Both my parents are State Government Employees, both in Labor Department of TN Govt. And this is something they cherish a lot & keep chirping abt with gr8 pride. Truely as in their young days, a govt. job in hand was equivalent to ve conquered Everest (jobs werent that easy sometime in late 70s).
My Moms office is in DMS, for people who know chennai well, DMS is a hub of Govt offices, next only to Chepauk. I have to say, I hate govt office for petty reasons too, lets not get into the broader agonies since its so known that nothing works there...I hate it cause of d dull wooden furniture, iron godrej cupboards (or locally b-e-e-r-o), noisy typewriters, loads of dusty files, rickety fans, dull tubelights, idle & chattery people, unions & their din...its just purely unbearable...shows d sorry state of India's development track. Arrghh...being pampered in my revolving cusion chair at d well furninshed and lit office, this view of govt office was an sloppy!!...But having accepted to drop my mom, I also had to accept her wish - she wanted me to meet her boss. But I agreed, quite unwillinging to her request, cause her collegues were all amazed for me, my workplace and my qualification. Though I am very secretly proud of my self at these, I feel odd when others watch & talk with an awe at you for wat u r..I met a few of her collegues & they started complimenting me & generally questioning on IT sector, pay, Bangalore etc etc. But then, to them all this was just amazement, not only wrt me, it was wid everyone & anyone in private jobs, particularly banks, ITs..my friends have also experienced same. And then, it was time for me to meet my mom's boss.
He is the Deputy Commisionner of Labour for one of the Chennai Divisions. Its quite a big job, cause I learnt (from mom of course) that anything related to Ministries, important govt. orders & crucial cases, his presense is perennial and his word is ultimatum. I expected an old man, mostly grey-haired, with thick glasses, dressed in safari suit, protruding belly and dumb talks as i was walking towards his room. But I really was in for a surprise...
He must be somewhere nearing 40, looked very smart, dressed in formals even on an off day, clean shaven, talking on a N73 while glancing at his LCD monitor as I entered the room. A very broad smile which even my past manager didnt give me when it was my 1st day in office, made me feel very warm. Offering me a seat after introduction, he started to hit straight into serious conversation on IT & Govt. and recent deals of all big IT cos. in TN & India. Man, I was astonished, this man knew a lot, starting from PCM/CMM status of my co. to recent Cloud computing, he was firing everything at me. And I really was not expecting this. What I thought would be a 5 mins shake hand, bye bye stuff was turning to be more serious. And not to stop, we shifted from IT to recent amendments in Company's Act & Labour laws. This was getting better now, as things were really interesting. He was explaining complexities on why there cant be unions in IT cos., govt. relaxations on such cos. thich to date even I wasnt aware of and he did reciprocate same intense interest on business and deals that my cos. was into. Finally, no talk is complete without pulling in Share Markets and that prolonged for next 15 mins. Lastly, we had to leave as DCL had a meeting to attend. We shook hands and this time, his shake was harder, and mine humbler.
I just bid a bye to my mom & left d office. Next I knew was that I was only thinking for this man, how on earth, he has built so much knowledge sitting in that dusty office. I later learnt he was PG in Madras University & immense experience to support his sound knowledge. But wat kept hovering my mind was is this man wasting his time in a Govt. office? maybe he must b trying his worth elsewhere? How many such hidden gems are there in our country? And y is Govt. vehicle so rusted even with such bright people?? Truely, meeting wiht d DCL changed a lto of my perception on d Govt. beurocracy...i really thought Collectors, IPS and Revenue personnel were d only sensible people in entire govt. operations, but not at all...I can bet, dat even a senior managerial employee in a top MNC wouldnt have such mammoth knowldge combined with such simplicity...well they do enjoy status and privileges which grossly mismatches their peers in industry, but their presence in the Govt. is for sure consequential.
It was on Saturday, both my parents were working that day, quite unlike for Government Employees, but yes, there was this special ocassion & they had to gruel it out on a weekend. My dad left early and since I was nearly jobless, I offered to drop my mom at her Office. Both my parents are State Government Employees, both in Labor Department of TN Govt. And this is something they cherish a lot & keep chirping abt with gr8 pride. Truely as in their young days, a govt. job in hand was equivalent to ve conquered Everest (jobs werent that easy sometime in late 70s).
My Moms office is in DMS, for people who know chennai well, DMS is a hub of Govt offices, next only to Chepauk. I have to say, I hate govt office for petty reasons too, lets not get into the broader agonies since its so known that nothing works there...I hate it cause of d dull wooden furniture, iron godrej cupboards (or locally b-e-e-r-o), noisy typewriters, loads of dusty files, rickety fans, dull tubelights, idle & chattery people, unions & their din...its just purely unbearable...shows d sorry state of India's development track. Arrghh...being pampered in my revolving cusion chair at d well furninshed and lit office, this view of govt office was an sloppy!!...But having accepted to drop my mom, I also had to accept her wish - she wanted me to meet her boss. But I agreed, quite unwillinging to her request, cause her collegues were all amazed for me, my workplace and my qualification. Though I am very secretly proud of my self at these, I feel odd when others watch & talk with an awe at you for wat u r..I met a few of her collegues & they started complimenting me & generally questioning on IT sector, pay, Bangalore etc etc. But then, to them all this was just amazement, not only wrt me, it was wid everyone & anyone in private jobs, particularly banks, ITs..my friends have also experienced same. And then, it was time for me to meet my mom's boss.
He is the Deputy Commisionner of Labour for one of the Chennai Divisions. Its quite a big job, cause I learnt (from mom of course) that anything related to Ministries, important govt. orders & crucial cases, his presense is perennial and his word is ultimatum. I expected an old man, mostly grey-haired, with thick glasses, dressed in safari suit, protruding belly and dumb talks as i was walking towards his room. But I really was in for a surprise...
He must be somewhere nearing 40, looked very smart, dressed in formals even on an off day, clean shaven, talking on a N73 while glancing at his LCD monitor as I entered the room. A very broad smile which even my past manager didnt give me when it was my 1st day in office, made me feel very warm. Offering me a seat after introduction, he started to hit straight into serious conversation on IT & Govt. and recent deals of all big IT cos. in TN & India. Man, I was astonished, this man knew a lot, starting from PCM/CMM status of my co. to recent Cloud computing, he was firing everything at me. And I really was not expecting this. What I thought would be a 5 mins shake hand, bye bye stuff was turning to be more serious. And not to stop, we shifted from IT to recent amendments in Company's Act & Labour laws. This was getting better now, as things were really interesting. He was explaining complexities on why there cant be unions in IT cos., govt. relaxations on such cos. thich to date even I wasnt aware of and he did reciprocate same intense interest on business and deals that my cos. was into. Finally, no talk is complete without pulling in Share Markets and that prolonged for next 15 mins. Lastly, we had to leave as DCL had a meeting to attend. We shook hands and this time, his shake was harder, and mine humbler.
I just bid a bye to my mom & left d office. Next I knew was that I was only thinking for this man, how on earth, he has built so much knowledge sitting in that dusty office. I later learnt he was PG in Madras University & immense experience to support his sound knowledge. But wat kept hovering my mind was is this man wasting his time in a Govt. office? maybe he must b trying his worth elsewhere? How many such hidden gems are there in our country? And y is Govt. vehicle so rusted even with such bright people?? Truely, meeting wiht d DCL changed a lto of my perception on d Govt. beurocracy...i really thought Collectors, IPS and Revenue personnel were d only sensible people in entire govt. operations, but not at all...I can bet, dat even a senior managerial employee in a top MNC wouldnt have such mammoth knowldge combined with such simplicity...well they do enjoy status and privileges which grossly mismatches their peers in industry, but their presence in the Govt. is for sure consequential.
Monday, March 23, 2009
The poet in my friend
Srinivasan aka Tall Srini as he is called, my beloved friend, recently sent me this poem, that he had penned. Ghosh, it was so simple but was like a thunderbolt too...i never knew his hidden talent of this poetic capabilites, a good worker, very humorous and a exact "vadivelu" mimic, his exhibition of this skill left me open mouthed..i thought i should have it in my blog...(won the copyrights first..;). It s named Never -..so apt, Never can one understand the pain of another losing in Love. Here it goes -
Simply awesome...keep writing Srini!!!
Never
I never saw someone so beautiful
until you crossed me.....!
I never heard anyone's voice so sweet
until you spoke with me....!
I never felt such a medicine
until you kissed me....!
I never felt I can become a poet
until I loved you....!
And I never thought I loved you
until you left me....!
Simply awesome...keep writing Srini!!!
A Horrific Phantasma....
I dream a lot. Be it a doze for a minute, snoozes on a bus or train ride, afternoon naps or the long night sleep, I dream in a nanosecond after the eyelids kiss each other.
One such morning when I was back to Chennai after a strenuous overnight journey, I laid on floor to continue my rustled sleep in the train. Ahhhh....Heaven, relaxation....Home indeed Sweet Home!!! My eyes closed to take into dreamland yet again...
"A cloudy day, sun playing hide and seek; jostling crowd in some typical Chennai 40ft road...spearated single concrete median; ricks, cars, bicycles, buses whizzing....now i see a big Peepul Tree at the bend of the road...wat am doing at this place??
I see a group crowding a metropolitan bus. Oh, its windscreen shattered, no one inside, its standstill in the middle of the road. Now, something's wrong here...lets me see wat's up...
Oh God!! Oh no!! spare me oh Lord, its so horrid wat am I seeing, someone is under the wheels, in a crumpled form...poor soul...."
Uuuugghhhhh...what a nightmare!!! its 8 am. Bad to wake up wid such a nightmare. I get up with this nasty dream still looming in my mind...and go brushed it while doing my teeth...My mom asked be to apply vibuthi (sacred ash) on the forehead before i sleep that night, when i told her about the dream...
Same Day - evening 4 pm :
Mom and I were out for shopping for my new home to Pursaiwakkam. I was enjoying my bike ride in the city, whizzing and swirling, my mom doesnt complain but seldom does control. We were in Ottery, where the narrow main road around 40ft separated by single concrete medians having slum tenaments on rod the banks. Some half way into the road, we noticed cars and heavy vehicles being diverted thro' a narrow lane. This wasnt unusual in Chennai roads especially when passing thro' slums. Clashes or protests or accidents result in such diversions often. Unassumingly, we budgded ahead, when.....I felt Deja Vu. The scene of my dream unfolded right in front of my eyes -
There was this Ashok Leyland staff bus right in the middle of the road, with its windscreen powdered, no passenger inside the bus and....and......behind its rear wheel lied a still body, crushed beyond recognition...Poor soul, O god, u r so merciless at times....Some one was No More...!! My Dream, my spooked dream...I saw all this and it has happened too...wats wrong?? Is this extra sensory perception....??? How can it be so similar in the occurence?? Was something wrong with me??
I stopped my bike, I started to tremble, sweating and too shocked to react. My mom comforted me, but still I felt numb in mind. This was something bad that had ever happened in my dreams, so far only pleasant things seemed to be a Deja Vu. But now, a tragic ending....How i wish my dream never came true, or atleast i was able to save him....Most bizzare occurence....ironically, that night when I slept, I didnt dream anything...My mom had smeared the vibuthi on my forehead after I feel asleep.
One such morning when I was back to Chennai after a strenuous overnight journey, I laid on floor to continue my rustled sleep in the train. Ahhhh....Heaven, relaxation....Home indeed Sweet Home!!! My eyes closed to take into dreamland yet again...
"A cloudy day, sun playing hide and seek; jostling crowd in some typical Chennai 40ft road...spearated single concrete median; ricks, cars, bicycles, buses whizzing....now i see a big Peepul Tree at the bend of the road...wat am doing at this place??
I see a group crowding a metropolitan bus. Oh, its windscreen shattered, no one inside, its standstill in the middle of the road. Now, something's wrong here...lets me see wat's up...
Oh God!! Oh no!! spare me oh Lord, its so horrid wat am I seeing, someone is under the wheels, in a crumpled form...poor soul...."
Uuuugghhhhh...what a nightmare!!! its 8 am. Bad to wake up wid such a nightmare. I get up with this nasty dream still looming in my mind...and go brushed it while doing my teeth...My mom asked be to apply vibuthi (sacred ash) on the forehead before i sleep that night, when i told her about the dream...
Same Day - evening 4 pm :
Mom and I were out for shopping for my new home to Pursaiwakkam. I was enjoying my bike ride in the city, whizzing and swirling, my mom doesnt complain but seldom does control. We were in Ottery, where the narrow main road around 40ft separated by single concrete medians having slum tenaments on rod the banks. Some half way into the road, we noticed cars and heavy vehicles being diverted thro' a narrow lane. This wasnt unusual in Chennai roads especially when passing thro' slums. Clashes or protests or accidents result in such diversions often. Unassumingly, we budgded ahead, when.....I felt Deja Vu. The scene of my dream unfolded right in front of my eyes -
There was this Ashok Leyland staff bus right in the middle of the road, with its windscreen powdered, no passenger inside the bus and....and......behind its rear wheel lied a still body, crushed beyond recognition...Poor soul, O god, u r so merciless at times....Some one was No More...!! My Dream, my spooked dream...I saw all this and it has happened too...wats wrong?? Is this extra sensory perception....??? How can it be so similar in the occurence?? Was something wrong with me??
I stopped my bike, I started to tremble, sweating and too shocked to react. My mom comforted me, but still I felt numb in mind. This was something bad that had ever happened in my dreams, so far only pleasant things seemed to be a Deja Vu. But now, a tragic ending....How i wish my dream never came true, or atleast i was able to save him....Most bizzare occurence....ironically, that night when I slept, I didnt dream anything...My mom had smeared the vibuthi on my forehead after I feel asleep.
Thursday, March 5, 2009
Festinated Abhishekam
Kapaleeshwarer of Mylapore - a standing monument of faith of nearly 2 crore of the Chennaiites, also my most favorite temple in Chennai which I have been worshippping from my childhood. In fact, its to this temple too, to which I owe my clearing CA. I still remember the sunday morning in March'04 when a family friend wrote me down a shloka of Lord Dakshinamoorty (Lord for Education), especially the one at Kapali, and asked me to worship him with due respects. And then started my conquer over CA, which I finally made it in 2006 and the final examinations went with a lot of promises of abhishekams, breaking coconuts etc. From then, Lord Dakshinamoorty was my Hero. Nearly 3 years now after I had cleared and on one visit to the temple sometime in Jan'09, I started to bethink my fulfilling of the pre-CA promises and zeroed on booking an abhishekam on my favorite Lord D'moorthy. Rs.300 was the charges and date was fixed on the forthcoming sunday morning 10.
The bright day came no sooner and my entire family assembled @ 10. And then started the discontent.
To start with, we were made to wait for over half an hour as some other person(s) who had booked for an abhshekam on the same day, same time had not yet turned up. I had to literally pull out a poojari (priest) to attend us. Finally, they gave up the wait and started to perform for us. More than the wait, frustration was heaps due to the discomfort the priest displayed to perfrom the ritual only for us.
Next event was even more arresting - it was the Abhishekam itself. Name a fast thing - Yuvraj's 6 6s, Yousuf Pathan batting in 20-20, Bullet Train, Bajaj Pulsar, maybe even the lightenng, honestly I tel you, this abhishekam was no slower than the things I listed above. I cusnt believe my own eyes, in less than 10 minutes, the entire event was over. My God, O Lord, I am so sorry. These temples had commercialized things so much, that even the most important ritual for the God had become an event spanning the time of finishing a plate of sambar idly.
I hardly felt the abhishekam being performed, milk, water, honey, vibuthi (holy ash) were poured, applied, smeared with the background of mantras or words sounding so by the priest and then the aarthi was pointed to me, JUST IN 10 MINUTES....God! where is this city heading to?? Even paying to get the God's time doesnt happen...Pathetic than this was that after everythign was over, suddenly 3-4 priests gathered from all sides and started asking for Dakshina (holy tips), even the sweeper, i ddint notice her in my entire 1 hour inside the temple. Money is what everyone was behind. It looked like the entire temple's sanctity had been swept under the wave of money and commercalisation.
My parents and me left the temple with a really heavy heart, felling cheated a lot. Never expected this to happen in the most prominent temple of the city. Consolation or solace of some sort was the amount of prasadam that we got for the abhishekam but that too was shortlived as the person delivering the prasadam only left after I compensated his torments with Rs. 20.
Money that I had spent didnt matter to me a lot as I blow away 10 times the charge for abhishekam at cinema malls, bowling every month. But the real questions that were left in my mind were - was it worth to spend on such activities on God in temples? Is city life become to fast for even simple rituals to shift to fast track mode? Are priests arm twisting in the name of God and faith? Or our spending natures fed these leeches?
The bright day came no sooner and my entire family assembled @ 10. And then started the discontent.
To start with, we were made to wait for over half an hour as some other person(s) who had booked for an abhshekam on the same day, same time had not yet turned up. I had to literally pull out a poojari (priest) to attend us. Finally, they gave up the wait and started to perform for us. More than the wait, frustration was heaps due to the discomfort the priest displayed to perfrom the ritual only for us.
Next event was even more arresting - it was the Abhishekam itself. Name a fast thing - Yuvraj's 6 6s, Yousuf Pathan batting in 20-20, Bullet Train, Bajaj Pulsar, maybe even the lightenng, honestly I tel you, this abhishekam was no slower than the things I listed above. I cusnt believe my own eyes, in less than 10 minutes, the entire event was over. My God, O Lord, I am so sorry. These temples had commercialized things so much, that even the most important ritual for the God had become an event spanning the time of finishing a plate of sambar idly.
I hardly felt the abhishekam being performed, milk, water, honey, vibuthi (holy ash) were poured, applied, smeared with the background of mantras or words sounding so by the priest and then the aarthi was pointed to me, JUST IN 10 MINUTES....God! where is this city heading to?? Even paying to get the God's time doesnt happen...Pathetic than this was that after everythign was over, suddenly 3-4 priests gathered from all sides and started asking for Dakshina (holy tips), even the sweeper, i ddint notice her in my entire 1 hour inside the temple. Money is what everyone was behind. It looked like the entire temple's sanctity had been swept under the wave of money and commercalisation.
My parents and me left the temple with a really heavy heart, felling cheated a lot. Never expected this to happen in the most prominent temple of the city. Consolation or solace of some sort was the amount of prasadam that we got for the abhishekam but that too was shortlived as the person delivering the prasadam only left after I compensated his torments with Rs. 20.
Money that I had spent didnt matter to me a lot as I blow away 10 times the charge for abhishekam at cinema malls, bowling every month. But the real questions that were left in my mind were - was it worth to spend on such activities on God in temples? Is city life become to fast for even simple rituals to shift to fast track mode? Are priests arm twisting in the name of God and faith? Or our spending natures fed these leeches?
Monday, December 1, 2008
A distinct Article on Bambay 26/11 terrorist attack!!!
I just cudnt help but post this article...so damn true...Poor of India are not only getting Poorer but also neglected. kudos - Gnani Sankaran....
Hotel Taj : icon of whose India ?
Gnani Sankaran- Tamil writer, Chennai.
Watching at least four English news channels surfing from one another during the last 60 hours of terror strike made me feel a terror of another kind. The terror of assaulting one's mind and sensitivity with cameras, sound bites and non-stop blabbers. All these channels have been trying to manufacture my consent for a big lie called - Hotel Taj the icon of India.
Whose India, Whose Icon ?
It is a matter of great shame that these channels simply did not bother about the other icon that faced the first attack from terrorists - the Chatrapathi Shivaji Terminus (CST) railway station. CST is the true icon of Mumbai. It is through this railway station hundreds of Indians from Uttar Pradesh, Bihar, Rajasthan, West Bengal and Tamilnadu have poured into Mumbai over the years, transforming themselves into Mumbaikars and built the Mumbai of today along with the Marathis and Kolis
But the channels would not recognise this. Nor would they recognise the thirty odd dead bodies strewn all over the platform of CST. No Barkha dutt went there to tell us who they were. But she was at Taj to show us the damaged furniture and reception lobby braving the guards. And the TV cameras did not go to the government run JJ hospital to find out who those 26 unidentified bodies were. Instead they were again invading the battered Taj to try in vain for a scoop shot of the dead bodies of the page 3 celebrities.
In all probability, the unidentified bodies could be those of workers from Bihar and Uttar Pradesh migrating to Mumbai, arriving by train at CST without cell phones and pan cards to identify them. Even after 60 hours after the CST massacre, no channel has bothered to cover in detail what transpired there.
The channels conveniently failed to acknowledge that the Aam Aadmis of India surviving in Mumbai were not affected by Taj, Oberoi and Trident closing down for a couple of weeks or months. What mattered to them was the stoppage of BEST buses and suburban trains even for one hour. But the channels were not covering that aspect of the terror attack. Such information at best merited a scroll line, while the cameras have to be dedicated for real time thriller unfolding at Taj or Nariman bhavan.
The so called justification for the hype the channels built around heritage site Taj falling down (CST is also a heritage site), is that Hotel Taj is where the rich and the powerful of India and the globe congregate. It is a symbol or icon of power of money and politics, not India. It is the icon of the financiers and swindlers of India. The Mumbai and India were built by the Aam Aadmis who passed through CST and Taj was the oasis of peace and privacy for those who wielded power over these mass of labouring classes. Leopold club and Taj were the haunts of rich spoilt kids who would drive their vehicles over sleeping Aam Aadmis on the pavement, the Mafiosi of Mumbai forever financing the glitterati of Bollywood (and also the terrorists) , Political brokers and industrialists.
It is precisely because Taj is the icon of power and not people, that the terrorists chose to strike.
The terrorists have understood after several efforts that the Aam Aadmi will never break down even if you bomb her markets and trains. He/she was resilient because that is the only way he/she can even survive.
Resilience was another word that annoyed the pundits of news channels and their patrons this time. What resilience, enough is enough, said Pranoy Roy's channel on the left side of the channel spectrum. Same sentiments were echoed by Arnab Goswami representing the right wing of the broadcast media whose time is now. Can Rajdeep be far behind in this game of one upmanship over TRPs ? They all attacked resilience this time. They wanted firm action from the government in tackling terror.
The same channels celebrated resilience when bombs went off in trains and markets killing and maiming the Aam Aadmis. The resilience of the ordinary worker suited the rich business class of Mumbai since work or manufacture or film shooting did not stop. When it came to them, the rich shamelessly exhibited their lack of nerves and refused to be resilient themselves. They cry for government intervention now to protect their private spas and swimming pools and bars and restaurants, similar to the way in which Citibank, General Motors and the ilk cry for government money when their coffers are emptied by their own ideologies.
The terrorists have learnt that the ordinary Indian is unperturbed by terror. For one whose daily existence itself is a terror of government sponsored inflation and market sponsored exclusion, pain is something he has learnt to live with. The rich of Mumbai and India Inc are facing the pain for the first time and learning about it just as the middle classes of India learnt about violation of human rights only during emergency, a cool 28 years after independence.
And human rights were another favourite issue for the channels to whip at times of terrorism.
Arnab Goswami in an animated voice wondered where were those champions of human rights now, not to be seen applauding the brave and selfless police officers who gave up their life in fighting terorism. Well, the counter question would be where were you when such officers were violating the human rights of Aam Aadmis. Has there ever been any 24 hour non stop coverage of violence against dalits and adivasis of this country?
This definitely was not the time to manufacture consent for the extra legal and third degree methods of interrogation of police and army but Arnabs don't miss a single opportunity to serve their class masters, this time the jingoistic patriotism came in handy to whitewash the entire uniformed services.
The sacrifice of the commandos or the police officers who went down dying at the hands of ruthless terrorists is no doubt heart rending but in vain in a situation which needed not just bran but also brain. Israel has a point when it says the operations were misplanned resulting in the death of its nationals here.
Khakares and Salaskars would not be dead if they did not commit the mistake of traveling by the same vehicle. It is a basic lesson in management that the top brass should never t ravel together in crisis. The terrorists, if only they had watched the channels, would have laughed their hearts out when the Chief of the Marine commandos, an elite force, masking his face so unprofessionally in a see-through cloth, told the media that the commandos had no idea about the structure of the Hotel Taj which they were trying to liberate. But the terrorists knew the place thoroughly, he acknowledged.
Is it so difficult to obtain a ground plan of Hotel Taj and discuss operation strategy thoroughly for at least one hour before entering? This is something even an event manager would first ask for, if he had to fix 25 audio systems and 50 CCtvs for a cultural event in a hotel. Would not Ratan Tata have provided a plan of his ancestral hotel to the commandos within one hour considering the mighty apparatus at his and government's disposal? Are satelite pictures only available for terrorists and not the government agencies ? In an operation known to consume time, one more hour for preparation would have only improved the efficiency of execution.
Sacrifices become doubly tragic in unprofessional circumstances. But the Aam Aadmis always believe that terror-shooters do better planning than terrorists. And the gullible media in a jingoistic mood would not raise any question about any of these issues.
They after all have their favourite whipping boy - the politician the eternal entertainer for the non-voting rich classes of India.
Arnabs and Rajdeeps would wax eloquent on Nanmohan Singh and Advani visiting Mumbai separately and not together showing solidarity even at this hour of national crisis. What a farce? Why can't these channels pool together all their camera crew and reporters at this time of national calamity and share the sound and visual bites which could mean a wider and deeper coverage of events with such a huge human resource to command? Why should Arnab and Rajdeep and Barkha keep harping every five minutes that this piece of information was exclusive to their channel, at the time of such a national crisis? Is this the time to promote the channel? If that is valid, the politician promoting his own political constituency is equally valid. And the duty of the politican is to do politics, his politics. It is for the people to evaluate that politics.
And terrorism is not above politics. It is politics by other means.
To come to grips with it and to eventually eliminate it, the practice of politics by proper means needs constant fine tuning and improvement. Decrying all politics and politicians, only helps terrorists and dictators who are the two sides of the same coin. And the rich and powerful always prefer terrorists and dictators to do business with.
Those caught in this crossfire are always the Aam Aadmis whose deaths are not even mourned - the taxi driver who lost the entire family at CST firing, the numerous waiters and stewards who lost their lives working in Taj for a monthly salary that would be one time bill for their masters. Postscript: In a fit of anger and depression, I sent a message to all the channels, 30 hours through the coverage. After all they have been constantly asking the viewers to message them for anything and everything. My message read: I send this with lots of pain. All channels, including yours, must apologise for not covering the victims of CST massacre, the real mumbaikars and aam aadmis of India. Your obsession with five star elite is disgusting. Learn from the print media please. No channel bothered. Only srinivasan Jain replied: you are right. We are trying to redress balance today. Well, nothing happened till the time of writing this 66 hours after the terror attack.
Hotel Taj : icon of whose India ?
Gnani Sankaran- Tamil writer, Chennai.
Watching at least four English news channels surfing from one another during the last 60 hours of terror strike made me feel a terror of another kind. The terror of assaulting one's mind and sensitivity with cameras, sound bites and non-stop blabbers. All these channels have been trying to manufacture my consent for a big lie called - Hotel Taj the icon of India.
Whose India, Whose Icon ?
It is a matter of great shame that these channels simply did not bother about the other icon that faced the first attack from terrorists - the Chatrapathi Shivaji Terminus (CST) railway station. CST is the true icon of Mumbai. It is through this railway station hundreds of Indians from Uttar Pradesh, Bihar, Rajasthan, West Bengal and Tamilnadu have poured into Mumbai over the years, transforming themselves into Mumbaikars and built the Mumbai of today along with the Marathis and Kolis
But the channels would not recognise this. Nor would they recognise the thirty odd dead bodies strewn all over the platform of CST. No Barkha dutt went there to tell us who they were. But she was at Taj to show us the damaged furniture and reception lobby braving the guards. And the TV cameras did not go to the government run JJ hospital to find out who those 26 unidentified bodies were. Instead they were again invading the battered Taj to try in vain for a scoop shot of the dead bodies of the page 3 celebrities.
In all probability, the unidentified bodies could be those of workers from Bihar and Uttar Pradesh migrating to Mumbai, arriving by train at CST without cell phones and pan cards to identify them. Even after 60 hours after the CST massacre, no channel has bothered to cover in detail what transpired there.
The channels conveniently failed to acknowledge that the Aam Aadmis of India surviving in Mumbai were not affected by Taj, Oberoi and Trident closing down for a couple of weeks or months. What mattered to them was the stoppage of BEST buses and suburban trains even for one hour. But the channels were not covering that aspect of the terror attack. Such information at best merited a scroll line, while the cameras have to be dedicated for real time thriller unfolding at Taj or Nariman bhavan.
The so called justification for the hype the channels built around heritage site Taj falling down (CST is also a heritage site), is that Hotel Taj is where the rich and the powerful of India and the globe congregate. It is a symbol or icon of power of money and politics, not India. It is the icon of the financiers and swindlers of India. The Mumbai and India were built by the Aam Aadmis who passed through CST and Taj was the oasis of peace and privacy for those who wielded power over these mass of labouring classes. Leopold club and Taj were the haunts of rich spoilt kids who would drive their vehicles over sleeping Aam Aadmis on the pavement, the Mafiosi of Mumbai forever financing the glitterati of Bollywood (and also the terrorists) , Political brokers and industrialists.
It is precisely because Taj is the icon of power and not people, that the terrorists chose to strike.
The terrorists have understood after several efforts that the Aam Aadmi will never break down even if you bomb her markets and trains. He/she was resilient because that is the only way he/she can even survive.
Resilience was another word that annoyed the pundits of news channels and their patrons this time. What resilience, enough is enough, said Pranoy Roy's channel on the left side of the channel spectrum. Same sentiments were echoed by Arnab Goswami representing the right wing of the broadcast media whose time is now. Can Rajdeep be far behind in this game of one upmanship over TRPs ? They all attacked resilience this time. They wanted firm action from the government in tackling terror.
The same channels celebrated resilience when bombs went off in trains and markets killing and maiming the Aam Aadmis. The resilience of the ordinary worker suited the rich business class of Mumbai since work or manufacture or film shooting did not stop. When it came to them, the rich shamelessly exhibited their lack of nerves and refused to be resilient themselves. They cry for government intervention now to protect their private spas and swimming pools and bars and restaurants, similar to the way in which Citibank, General Motors and the ilk cry for government money when their coffers are emptied by their own ideologies.
The terrorists have learnt that the ordinary Indian is unperturbed by terror. For one whose daily existence itself is a terror of government sponsored inflation and market sponsored exclusion, pain is something he has learnt to live with. The rich of Mumbai and India Inc are facing the pain for the first time and learning about it just as the middle classes of India learnt about violation of human rights only during emergency, a cool 28 years after independence.
And human rights were another favourite issue for the channels to whip at times of terrorism.
Arnab Goswami in an animated voice wondered where were those champions of human rights now, not to be seen applauding the brave and selfless police officers who gave up their life in fighting terorism. Well, the counter question would be where were you when such officers were violating the human rights of Aam Aadmis. Has there ever been any 24 hour non stop coverage of violence against dalits and adivasis of this country?
This definitely was not the time to manufacture consent for the extra legal and third degree methods of interrogation of police and army but Arnabs don't miss a single opportunity to serve their class masters, this time the jingoistic patriotism came in handy to whitewash the entire uniformed services.
The sacrifice of the commandos or the police officers who went down dying at the hands of ruthless terrorists is no doubt heart rending but in vain in a situation which needed not just bran but also brain. Israel has a point when it says the operations were misplanned resulting in the death of its nationals here.
Khakares and Salaskars would not be dead if they did not commit the mistake of traveling by the same vehicle. It is a basic lesson in management that the top brass should never t ravel together in crisis. The terrorists, if only they had watched the channels, would have laughed their hearts out when the Chief of the Marine commandos, an elite force, masking his face so unprofessionally in a see-through cloth, told the media that the commandos had no idea about the structure of the Hotel Taj which they were trying to liberate. But the terrorists knew the place thoroughly, he acknowledged.
Is it so difficult to obtain a ground plan of Hotel Taj and discuss operation strategy thoroughly for at least one hour before entering? This is something even an event manager would first ask for, if he had to fix 25 audio systems and 50 CCtvs for a cultural event in a hotel. Would not Ratan Tata have provided a plan of his ancestral hotel to the commandos within one hour considering the mighty apparatus at his and government's disposal? Are satelite pictures only available for terrorists and not the government agencies ? In an operation known to consume time, one more hour for preparation would have only improved the efficiency of execution.
Sacrifices become doubly tragic in unprofessional circumstances. But the Aam Aadmis always believe that terror-shooters do better planning than terrorists. And the gullible media in a jingoistic mood would not raise any question about any of these issues.
They after all have their favourite whipping boy - the politician the eternal entertainer for the non-voting rich classes of India.
Arnabs and Rajdeeps would wax eloquent on Nanmohan Singh and Advani visiting Mumbai separately and not together showing solidarity even at this hour of national crisis. What a farce? Why can't these channels pool together all their camera crew and reporters at this time of national calamity and share the sound and visual bites which could mean a wider and deeper coverage of events with such a huge human resource to command? Why should Arnab and Rajdeep and Barkha keep harping every five minutes that this piece of information was exclusive to their channel, at the time of such a national crisis? Is this the time to promote the channel? If that is valid, the politician promoting his own political constituency is equally valid. And the duty of the politican is to do politics, his politics. It is for the people to evaluate that politics.
And terrorism is not above politics. It is politics by other means.
To come to grips with it and to eventually eliminate it, the practice of politics by proper means needs constant fine tuning and improvement. Decrying all politics and politicians, only helps terrorists and dictators who are the two sides of the same coin. And the rich and powerful always prefer terrorists and dictators to do business with.
Those caught in this crossfire are always the Aam Aadmis whose deaths are not even mourned - the taxi driver who lost the entire family at CST firing, the numerous waiters and stewards who lost their lives working in Taj for a monthly salary that would be one time bill for their masters. Postscript: In a fit of anger and depression, I sent a message to all the channels, 30 hours through the coverage. After all they have been constantly asking the viewers to message them for anything and everything. My message read: I send this with lots of pain. All channels, including yours, must apologise for not covering the victims of CST massacre, the real mumbaikars and aam aadmis of India. Your obsession with five star elite is disgusting. Learn from the print media please. No channel bothered. Only srinivasan Jain replied: you are right. We are trying to redress balance today. Well, nothing happened till the time of writing this 66 hours after the terror attack.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)
