You know what? The person who coined the phrase ' Beggars can't afford to be choosers' deserves to be hanged and quartered. That has to be the most inappropriate, irrelevant and incorrect phrase I have ever heard. Beggars are some of the choosiest people I have had the misfortune to meet!!
Wonder why I seem to be fuming, ranting and raving about beggars?
Because I had this really strange,hilarious yet humiliating experience with a beggar lady last night.
My friends and I had gone for dinner to this place called 'Eden'. After our meal we were standing below and exchanging meaningless nothings when this old woman came begging for money. I normally have this strict policy of not giving money to beggars.It's not that I don't pity them. I do. But I admire the honest living of a ragpicker more than the aimless existence of a beggar. I give money to really old people,people who are maimed and to kids who sing on trains or sweep compartments and ask for money in return for services rendered.In the latter cases especially, there does exist a satisfaction of money well given 'cause you do recieve value for your money- a refrain or a marginally cleaner compartment.I never give money to people who look like they could earn it.
Anyways, getting back to the point, this old lady came up to us,knocking her cane against the pavement and asking for money.I guess the good food ( the Food at Eden is awesome!! )made me mellow.So I dug into my handbag, hunting for some coins to give to her.The ony thing I could find was one 50 paise coin and a couple of hundreds.Obviously I could not, or rather would not give her a hundred. So I thought , "what the hell? Every paise counts" and gave the coin to her. Imagine my chagrin when she said,"Ayyae!!8 Annas, keep it yourself.Take ( Ayyae! aet anna.Neiyae vaechukko. indha)".
I got so completely pissed off that when she reached the coin out to me, my mind rebelled and I reached my hand out and took the coin back from her and dropped it back into my bag instead of scurrying away from her in embarassment( As they expect you to do). A really cheap thing for me to do(: ) : ) but i'm quite proud of myself ;) ) but I seriously felt that the lady deserved absolutely no consideration from me.
Once a friend of my cousin's wife( just to be precise ;) ) told a small beggar boy to come to his house and he would pay him four hundred a month if he would be a gardener. And you know what the boy replied "Get lost.Just give me your money. Why should I work for you for four hundred when I earn thousands each month this way?".
You would think that a person who does not do a thing to earn their living has absolutely no right to sneer at the leavings of one who does.
That's why I think the person who invented the phrase 'Beggars can't afford to be choosers' deserves to be hanged and quartered.
Showing posts with label My experiences. Show all posts
Showing posts with label My experiences. Show all posts
Thursday, April 27, 2006
Friday, March 03, 2006
THROUGH THE EYES OF THE VICTIM (BlankNoiseProject)
Is there any girl who lives who has not been harassed on the roads? I think not.Probably the first time ( which I am not ashamed to recount) I was harassed was when I was eleven years old. I can still recollect that day when an old man in a motorbike stopped me in the middle of the road, when I was walking back from school in the pretext of asking me for directions. No sooner had I given him directions ( not a word of which he heard), he told me," Don't you think you are too young to have breasts?" gesticulating towards mine. I was horrified.Before I could even scream out "Bastard" he had sped away. I remember going home that day, falling on my bed and crying all evening.I didn't have the courage to talk to anyone about it. For an entire week all I could think about was that horrid old man.You know what the worst part of being harassed when you are too young is ?
You are not indignant.
You are not outraged.
Instead, you feel ashamed.
Humiliated and ashamed of YOURSELF.
Like as if the sin was commited by the sinned not the sinner. It's like the attitude that some people carry towards rape. "She asked for it!".An oft heard remark.By the stupid narrow minded jerks in the world!
It was a couple of months later that my humiliation turned to outrage when a group of us girls gathered together and started speaking about it.The tales I heard were horrifying. We were all just eleven then and I guess the age where men know us to be vulnerable, innocent and unprotected. Too young for parents to worry about and too old to be protected by childish innocence.
One of my friends had been told to come to the back of a grocery shop to pick up what she had come for and when she went in, the grocer caught hold of her and started rubbing his hands up and down her chest.She had to bite him hard on his hand to escape and run away.I was onced offered a choclate by a shopkeeper if I came into his shop and saw the pictures he had.They were all pornographic and he did the same 'pinch on the chest trick'. Luckily there were four or five of us girls then.I wonder what would have happened if I had been alone? Another friend of mine had been stopped by a guy driving a car, again in the pretext of asking for directions. It was worse this time around.The guy had unzipped his pants and had semen coated on his hands and asked her " Do you know what this is? Shall I tell you what it is?".She cycled away as fast as she could from there.Another time when the same friend and me were skating in a skating rink at six in the morning alone, an old guy blocked our exit and removed his dhoti and started waving his penis at us.
Do you know what the one thing we all shared in common when we recounted these incidents was? We all of us blamed ourselves. Believed that the cardinal sin was comitted by us and not the perpetuator.Tell me one thing. Is it for this reason that children are targeted so much by these lechers? Because they know that we don't know how to react?
Pouring our hearts out was the best thing we ever did. I think we grew up overnight. Became wary and cynical.More watchful and distrustful of what every stranger said or did. Where previously we would smile winnningly at the stranger who patted our heads and butts, started to shie away and have that 'keep your distance' look in our eyes.Good. It atleast stopped us hurting.Kids do need to grow into adults.But incidents like this just help in hastening the transition.
The next year I joined Karate classes.Trained to defend myself.It helped that my Karate Sirs included kicks in the groin as a part of our lessons.They especially taught us girls how to defend ourselves and how to be watchful. It did help me.A couple of years later when a guy on a road reached out his hand to grab my breasts ( What is this obsession that guys have with breasts????? Is it that you don't have them??) ,I judged his intentions and knocked his hands off before he could succeed and walked away( I am yet to sum up the courage to walk THEM to the police station).Another time when my friend and I were going doubles on a very lonely stretch of road called Besant avenue, late in the evening, a guy in another cycle stopped us in the pretext of asking for directions. ( Is this the most successful approach till date??).When I pointed out the way he needed to go, he suddenly grabbed hold of my top. Before he could take two breaths I had punched him on his face ( I was still on the cycle) , opened my fingers and scored my nails down his face ( I bet it hurt like mad).My friend with equal presence of mind kicked his cycle and he toppled down. Before he got up we fled away. We didn't want to take the chances of him having any friends nearby. All this when we were fourteen.
These days a guy who flicks our hair and whistles saying," What is the reason for your beautiful hair?' , gets retorts of "Sabeena or Ujala". A guy who accidently pats you on the butt gets an equally accidental knock on his head by a wayward elbow or even better, an umbrella. The guys who look you up and down get look-ups and downs themselves. But that too is just by a select few girls. Most still cringe in fear.The girls who are yet to learn to defend themselves. And what about those incidents where you cannot defend yourself?Reminds of ( read my post 'A scary experience', when an auto driver asked me "Aren't you scared of going alone in the night?" during a late night trip. I replied "No. I know Karate". To which he says " What if there are six or seven men? Then what will you do,huh?". I was paralysed with fear then.
But really? What could even the braver ones do? Sit back, be raped and say "Thank you" ?
p.s. I hope the girls who read this post of mine gain the courage to be brave themselves and know they are not alone. I hope the guys who read this know to not just never harass but also spread the message and get the same attitude grilled into their friends.And I hope that everyone who reads it understands that even young children are susceptible to being harassed and get easily traumatised by it.So keep an eye on them for such signs of withdrawal and educate them when they are still very young about what they need to watch out for.
I would like to thank BlankNoiseProject for the opportunity to represent myself in this blog-a-thon in a topic so close to my heart.
p.p.s I made the collage above as a true representation of what I felt.
You are not indignant.
You are not outraged.
Instead, you feel ashamed.
Humiliated and ashamed of YOURSELF.
Like as if the sin was commited by the sinned not the sinner. It's like the attitude that some people carry towards rape. "She asked for it!".An oft heard remark.By the stupid narrow minded jerks in the world!
It was a couple of months later that my humiliation turned to outrage when a group of us girls gathered together and started speaking about it.The tales I heard were horrifying. We were all just eleven then and I guess the age where men know us to be vulnerable, innocent and unprotected. Too young for parents to worry about and too old to be protected by childish innocence.
One of my friends had been told to come to the back of a grocery shop to pick up what she had come for and when she went in, the grocer caught hold of her and started rubbing his hands up and down her chest.She had to bite him hard on his hand to escape and run away.I was onced offered a choclate by a shopkeeper if I came into his shop and saw the pictures he had.They were all pornographic and he did the same 'pinch on the chest trick'. Luckily there were four or five of us girls then.I wonder what would have happened if I had been alone? Another friend of mine had been stopped by a guy driving a car, again in the pretext of asking for directions. It was worse this time around.The guy had unzipped his pants and had semen coated on his hands and asked her " Do you know what this is? Shall I tell you what it is?".She cycled away as fast as she could from there.Another time when the same friend and me were skating in a skating rink at six in the morning alone, an old guy blocked our exit and removed his dhoti and started waving his penis at us.
Do you know what the one thing we all shared in common when we recounted these incidents was? We all of us blamed ourselves. Believed that the cardinal sin was comitted by us and not the perpetuator.Tell me one thing. Is it for this reason that children are targeted so much by these lechers? Because they know that we don't know how to react?
Pouring our hearts out was the best thing we ever did. I think we grew up overnight. Became wary and cynical.More watchful and distrustful of what every stranger said or did. Where previously we would smile winnningly at the stranger who patted our heads and butts, started to shie away and have that 'keep your distance' look in our eyes.Good. It atleast stopped us hurting.Kids do need to grow into adults.But incidents like this just help in hastening the transition.
The next year I joined Karate classes.Trained to defend myself.It helped that my Karate Sirs included kicks in the groin as a part of our lessons.They especially taught us girls how to defend ourselves and how to be watchful. It did help me.A couple of years later when a guy on a road reached out his hand to grab my breasts ( What is this obsession that guys have with breasts????? Is it that you don't have them??) ,I judged his intentions and knocked his hands off before he could succeed and walked away( I am yet to sum up the courage to walk THEM to the police station).Another time when my friend and I were going doubles on a very lonely stretch of road called Besant avenue, late in the evening, a guy in another cycle stopped us in the pretext of asking for directions. ( Is this the most successful approach till date??).When I pointed out the way he needed to go, he suddenly grabbed hold of my top. Before he could take two breaths I had punched him on his face ( I was still on the cycle) , opened my fingers and scored my nails down his face ( I bet it hurt like mad).My friend with equal presence of mind kicked his cycle and he toppled down. Before he got up we fled away. We didn't want to take the chances of him having any friends nearby. All this when we were fourteen.
These days a guy who flicks our hair and whistles saying," What is the reason for your beautiful hair?' , gets retorts of "Sabeena or Ujala". A guy who accidently pats you on the butt gets an equally accidental knock on his head by a wayward elbow or even better, an umbrella. The guys who look you up and down get look-ups and downs themselves. But that too is just by a select few girls. Most still cringe in fear.The girls who are yet to learn to defend themselves. And what about those incidents where you cannot defend yourself?Reminds of ( read my post 'A scary experience', when an auto driver asked me "Aren't you scared of going alone in the night?" during a late night trip. I replied "No. I know Karate". To which he says " What if there are six or seven men? Then what will you do,huh?". I was paralysed with fear then.
But really? What could even the braver ones do? Sit back, be raped and say "Thank you" ?
p.s. I hope the girls who read this post of mine gain the courage to be brave themselves and know they are not alone. I hope the guys who read this know to not just never harass but also spread the message and get the same attitude grilled into their friends.And I hope that everyone who reads it understands that even young children are susceptible to being harassed and get easily traumatised by it.So keep an eye on them for such signs of withdrawal and educate them when they are still very young about what they need to watch out for.
I would like to thank BlankNoiseProject for the opportunity to represent myself in this blog-a-thon in a topic so close to my heart.
p.p.s I made the collage above as a true representation of what I felt.
Thursday, March 02, 2006
TO KILL OR NOT TO KILL?
A couple of days back I had this extraordinary dream.It came quite close to being a nightmare, but was not.Here it goes ---
It's late in the night and my entire house is pitched in darkness. I rise to go the kitchen for a drink of water.When I near the kitchen door, suddenly an apparition quite identical to the scary girl in 'The Ring' appears before me with her hands stretched out as if wanting to strangle me. I start with sudden fear. But my fear lives a short life. I reason to myself. Worst case scenario - what lies ahead of me is Death. And beyond death, what? Nothing. So it does not really matter.
Surprised by my lack of fear the apparition asks me, 'Why are you not terrifed?'. I explain. Amazed at my explanation, the apparition says, ' Alright. For this I shall give you a gift. A gift of being able to kill someone through ill thoughts. Were you to think really badly of someone, then they will die'.Saying this she kisses me on my cheek. I panic. I plead out saying, 'No! What you give me is no gift.It is a curse. An evil curse. I do tend to think quite ill of certain people. I don't want their blood on my hands.It would make me no better than you'.She stares at me for a while and says, 'A gift once given cannot be taken back'.
I feel incredibly upset at the thought. Can't stop thinking about what a heavy burden I need to henceforth carry on my shoulders.
And then it suddenly hit me.That I was wrong.What I had been given was not necessarily a curse. Yes, it did mean I had to learn to temper the grudges and ill feeling I might hold towards some people. But then it gave me a wonderful power too. The ability to met out justice when all else failed. To wield some goodness in an oft corrupt and wicked world. What if I used this ability to kill the Manu Sharmas( read Jessica Lall) and the George Bushs of this world?Would it still be a curse or a modern day,my own 'Sudarshan Chakra'?
Think about it.
It's late in the night and my entire house is pitched in darkness. I rise to go the kitchen for a drink of water.When I near the kitchen door, suddenly an apparition quite identical to the scary girl in 'The Ring' appears before me with her hands stretched out as if wanting to strangle me. I start with sudden fear. But my fear lives a short life. I reason to myself. Worst case scenario - what lies ahead of me is Death. And beyond death, what? Nothing. So it does not really matter.
Surprised by my lack of fear the apparition asks me, 'Why are you not terrifed?'. I explain. Amazed at my explanation, the apparition says, ' Alright. For this I shall give you a gift. A gift of being able to kill someone through ill thoughts. Were you to think really badly of someone, then they will die'.Saying this she kisses me on my cheek. I panic. I plead out saying, 'No! What you give me is no gift.It is a curse. An evil curse. I do tend to think quite ill of certain people. I don't want their blood on my hands.It would make me no better than you'.She stares at me for a while and says, 'A gift once given cannot be taken back'.
I feel incredibly upset at the thought. Can't stop thinking about what a heavy burden I need to henceforth carry on my shoulders.
And then it suddenly hit me.That I was wrong.What I had been given was not necessarily a curse. Yes, it did mean I had to learn to temper the grudges and ill feeling I might hold towards some people. But then it gave me a wonderful power too. The ability to met out justice when all else failed. To wield some goodness in an oft corrupt and wicked world. What if I used this ability to kill the Manu Sharmas( read Jessica Lall) and the George Bushs of this world?Would it still be a curse or a modern day,my own 'Sudarshan Chakra'?
Think about it.
Friday, January 27, 2006
A SCARY EXPERIENCE!
Two nights back I probably had one of the scariest experiences in my life.My cousin's wife was celebrating her birthday. We had this huge get together at her place with a huge motley of cousins who live in Bangalore. I was leaving that night to Madras for my rather extended leave to attend the weddings in my family.After much celebration, I reluctantly tore myself apart to catch an auto rickshaw to Majestic where I was to board the Chennai Mail which departs at 10.45. This was probably at around 9.30 in the night. Extremely early by Bangalore standards. By the way, I live at BTM, so the journey is a pretty long one.
The auto driver was a young guy, seeming harmless. Quite casually somewhere at the start of our journey he asked me in Hindi, " Memsaab, apko ithna raat pe ithna dhoor jaane me darr nahin lagta hain kya?Bangalore tho ithna be safe nahin hain" ( At this time of the night, aren't you scared to be going so far? Bangalore is not a safe city). I said "Nahin". And added to quell him "Mujhe Karate Patha Hain" ( No, I know Karate).He then turned and said in a rather husky tone,"Chae Saath Aadmi Aayenge tho aap kya karr sakthe hain, huh? ( If 6 or 7 men were to come then what can you do?).
At that moment my blood chilled right to my bone. A seemingly harmless conversation took an ominous turn in my mind. I like a lot of the other women live my life tutting in pity and horror when I read stories of rape and murder in the paper, look up to the skies and pray that it should not happen to anyone I know ( praying that no one is raped seems so futile) yet live my life in that confident bliss of assurance that it will not happen to me. I have always been a very careful person. In all likelihood because I have learnt Karate and happen to be a brown belt. When walking alone in the night I am always on the alert and watch my shadows to see if I am being followed. Confident of being able to deflect any attack. But at that instant I was horrified. I have a terrible sense of direction as all of my friends would attest to( After 4 years, I still don't know the way to my college).I could not help but wonder whether the auto driver had been issuing me a word of warning or whether it was a statement of what was to befall me.
I did not know the way to Majestic. I did not know if he was going on the right route. I did not anything at that instant but my fear. Ignorance had never been less blissful.Adrenalin was surging through me at a rate hundred times more rapid that at any other instance. It was only at around 10.20 when I reached Bangalore City station that my fear finally subsided.At that moment I resolved with all within me that I would not travel alone at night.
Two days later I am yet to decide whether I ought to laugh at my silly fears.I wonder if my imagination had been playing overtime with that one remark made by the auto driver. Yet, another part of me tells me that exercising caution could never be futile.The world is not too safe a place. This driver might just make ominous statements. Another might not hesitate to put his words in action.
The auto driver was a young guy, seeming harmless. Quite casually somewhere at the start of our journey he asked me in Hindi, " Memsaab, apko ithna raat pe ithna dhoor jaane me darr nahin lagta hain kya?Bangalore tho ithna be safe nahin hain" ( At this time of the night, aren't you scared to be going so far? Bangalore is not a safe city). I said "Nahin". And added to quell him "Mujhe Karate Patha Hain" ( No, I know Karate).He then turned and said in a rather husky tone,"Chae Saath Aadmi Aayenge tho aap kya karr sakthe hain, huh? ( If 6 or 7 men were to come then what can you do?).
At that moment my blood chilled right to my bone. A seemingly harmless conversation took an ominous turn in my mind. I like a lot of the other women live my life tutting in pity and horror when I read stories of rape and murder in the paper, look up to the skies and pray that it should not happen to anyone I know ( praying that no one is raped seems so futile) yet live my life in that confident bliss of assurance that it will not happen to me. I have always been a very careful person. In all likelihood because I have learnt Karate and happen to be a brown belt. When walking alone in the night I am always on the alert and watch my shadows to see if I am being followed. Confident of being able to deflect any attack. But at that instant I was horrified. I have a terrible sense of direction as all of my friends would attest to( After 4 years, I still don't know the way to my college).I could not help but wonder whether the auto driver had been issuing me a word of warning or whether it was a statement of what was to befall me.
I did not know the way to Majestic. I did not know if he was going on the right route. I did not anything at that instant but my fear. Ignorance had never been less blissful.Adrenalin was surging through me at a rate hundred times more rapid that at any other instance. It was only at around 10.20 when I reached Bangalore City station that my fear finally subsided.At that moment I resolved with all within me that I would not travel alone at night.
Two days later I am yet to decide whether I ought to laugh at my silly fears.I wonder if my imagination had been playing overtime with that one remark made by the auto driver. Yet, another part of me tells me that exercising caution could never be futile.The world is not too safe a place. This driver might just make ominous statements. Another might not hesitate to put his words in action.
Friday, December 23, 2005
UNROMANTIC BE DAMNED!!
My sister is currently in a rather worthwhile quest. She hunts every nook and cranny for her long remembered - less encountered friends to invite to her wedding which is in February. Her visit to Bangalore serves the dual purpose of spending time with her beloved younger sister and distributing invitations.
The other day I accompanied her when she met up with her friend and his wife. The four of us went out for a coffee and tiffin at a place called Brindavan Hotel at MG Road. One of those typically Southie restaurants with long acrylic wood tables and identical chairs with fans running high above in the ceiling and waiters with those funny caps on their heads, matching their uniforms and a small sized towel slung on one shoulder. Get the pitcure?
Well her friends were very nice. A very sweet, not long married couple who seemed to talk lots and laugh even more. There I was, unusually silent, observing thier conversation when something the husband said absolutely got my gall!@!@*!! My sister was telling them " I wont take much of your time. You guys can make it to a quiet and romantic dinner for two after this at some good restaurant" when the husband replied " chae!!chae!! We never go out like that and all Ramya. We both are very unromantic. We are not into such romantic outings ". I was quite tempted to at that moment hit him in the eye and say " Speak for yourself, dude!!!". I was quite stunned at the assumption he just made that his wife would not like any romantic gestures. Give me a break! I doubt there is any girl who would not like her guy to get just a tad bit romantic atleast on occasions. A girl who does not like to be taken out for dinner and to use the quite familiar phrase 'wined and dined'. Newly married at that!
At that instant, I couldn't help but wonder.Are there really a lot of guys who actually presume that a girl does not like to be wooed? That a little bit of caring would be too amiss?? If there are,all I can think of telling them is "How presumptious can you get in just assuming that a girl would like things to be completely prosaic as you do??"Doesn't it strike them that the girl might secretly long for ( yet never admit) a little bit of that extra hint of caring?
Unromantic Husbands be damned!!!
The other day I accompanied her when she met up with her friend and his wife. The four of us went out for a coffee and tiffin at a place called Brindavan Hotel at MG Road. One of those typically Southie restaurants with long acrylic wood tables and identical chairs with fans running high above in the ceiling and waiters with those funny caps on their heads, matching their uniforms and a small sized towel slung on one shoulder. Get the pitcure?
Well her friends were very nice. A very sweet, not long married couple who seemed to talk lots and laugh even more. There I was, unusually silent, observing thier conversation when something the husband said absolutely got my gall!@!@*!! My sister was telling them " I wont take much of your time. You guys can make it to a quiet and romantic dinner for two after this at some good restaurant" when the husband replied " chae!!chae!! We never go out like that and all Ramya. We both are very unromantic. We are not into such romantic outings ". I was quite tempted to at that moment hit him in the eye and say " Speak for yourself, dude!!!". I was quite stunned at the assumption he just made that his wife would not like any romantic gestures. Give me a break! I doubt there is any girl who would not like her guy to get just a tad bit romantic atleast on occasions. A girl who does not like to be taken out for dinner and to use the quite familiar phrase 'wined and dined'. Newly married at that!
At that instant, I couldn't help but wonder.Are there really a lot of guys who actually presume that a girl does not like to be wooed? That a little bit of caring would be too amiss?? If there are,all I can think of telling them is "How presumptious can you get in just assuming that a girl would like things to be completely prosaic as you do??"Doesn't it strike them that the girl might secretly long for ( yet never admit) a little bit of that extra hint of caring?
Unromantic Husbands be damned!!!
Tuesday, December 20, 2005
A VISIT TO TIRUPATI
On Saturday, my sister and I decided to make an impromptu visit to Tirumala. We boarded a volvo at Majestic at around 9.30 in the morning. We reached Tirupati at about 3.30. After buying tickets for a Darshan we started our climb. It took us about 4 hours to reach the top, but was absolutely worth it. The mountains in the dark were tinted red with the setting sun and cool breeze washed itself against our faces. It was beautiful.
On reaching we booked a room. When we went to collect the key, I made a rather terrible faux paus. The guy at the counter asked us " Are there men?" in telugu. Not to be proved any inferior, I decided to reply back in Telugu. I said "Odhu" ( No in my dictionary). He jerked his head upward stalling in whatever he was writing and said "What?". Deciding that he was rather deaf I repeated "Odhu". He looked rather stunned and my sister was suddenly jerking me back. I turned to her and said " Did I say anything wrong? What does Odhu mean?". With a very embarassed smile directed towards the counter guy she whispered to me "It means Dont Want". I was like "Oh" and then burst out into paroxyms of laughter. Luckily the guy at the counter seemed to have a decent sense of humour. He smiled and gave us the key.This was probably at around 9.00 in the night.
When we went to the room, much to our misfortune the loo was disgusting, the room not cleaned and the mattresses were damp. After much debating we decided that god would certainly forgive us if we didn't stay for a Darshan. We immediately returned the key where we had a lively argument with the counter guy, refusing to pay cash for cleaning the room. Saw no reason to. It had not been cleaned for us. We saw no reason to pay when we had not even occupied the rooms. We then went to the office to collect our caution deposit. The young punk at that counter actually demanded 10 bucks to give us back our CD. My sis was all set to pay it, when I just turned to her and was like " Forget it. There is no way we are paying a bribe in Tirumala!!!". Grabbed the money from the punk's hand and ran out of the place. We then boarded a bus to Tirupati and from there took another bus back to Bangalore at arount 11.30 in the night to reach at 5.30 in the morning.
We were feeling extremely guilty for not having had a Darshan so had a bath and left for a Balaji temple at Domlur to assauge our guilt. End of a trip which was a series of unfortunate/fortunate events!!!!!
On reaching we booked a room. When we went to collect the key, I made a rather terrible faux paus. The guy at the counter asked us " Are there men?" in telugu. Not to be proved any inferior, I decided to reply back in Telugu. I said "Odhu" ( No in my dictionary). He jerked his head upward stalling in whatever he was writing and said "What?". Deciding that he was rather deaf I repeated "Odhu". He looked rather stunned and my sister was suddenly jerking me back. I turned to her and said " Did I say anything wrong? What does Odhu mean?". With a very embarassed smile directed towards the counter guy she whispered to me "It means Dont Want". I was like "Oh" and then burst out into paroxyms of laughter. Luckily the guy at the counter seemed to have a decent sense of humour. He smiled and gave us the key.This was probably at around 9.00 in the night.
When we went to the room, much to our misfortune the loo was disgusting, the room not cleaned and the mattresses were damp. After much debating we decided that god would certainly forgive us if we didn't stay for a Darshan. We immediately returned the key where we had a lively argument with the counter guy, refusing to pay cash for cleaning the room. Saw no reason to. It had not been cleaned for us. We saw no reason to pay when we had not even occupied the rooms. We then went to the office to collect our caution deposit. The young punk at that counter actually demanded 10 bucks to give us back our CD. My sis was all set to pay it, when I just turned to her and was like " Forget it. There is no way we are paying a bribe in Tirumala!!!". Grabbed the money from the punk's hand and ran out of the place. We then boarded a bus to Tirupati and from there took another bus back to Bangalore at arount 11.30 in the night to reach at 5.30 in the morning.
We were feeling extremely guilty for not having had a Darshan so had a bath and left for a Balaji temple at Domlur to assauge our guilt. End of a trip which was a series of unfortunate/fortunate events!!!!!
Monday, October 31, 2005
DRIVE SAFE..!!!
I left to Hyderabad from Bangalore on the 27th night.All set to enjoy my four day Diwali vacation. The season being a hectic one, and me having not booked my tickets two months in advance had to travel by bus. Fact is , I hate travelling by bus. Especially if it is an overnight journey. My bus which was supposed to leave at 9.30 dilly dallyed waiting for some passengers and finally left at 10.15. After a rather bumpy journey, at around 8.15 in the morning we were finally about 50 kms from Hyderabad when we got stuck in a traffic jam. The reason? A bus travelling from Bangalore had collided with a truck coming in the opposite direction.A headlong collision.End result?
Five people died instantaneously.
The bus had been trying to overtake the bus ahead of it when due to brake failure it collided against the lorry. The bus I was travelling on was about 10 buses behind the one that collided. A couple of people in my bus were completely spooked out. They could not help but keep repeating "Oh my god! I normally travel by that bus. It's just that this time I could not get tickets to come by that". The fear of disaster. The fear of death. The eeriest fear that one can come across. It is the only one unexplained, unexpected and irreversible.
And the only thing it can leave you saying is "If only.....".
Everyday in the papers we read about people dying in automobile accidents. Yes, I know. There have been more terrible disasters happening lately. The bomb blasts , the train in AP that derailed killing hundreds, the floods that have inundated our entire country.... the list goes on. But fact remains that there are certain things that are within our control.
You cannot say that you will not go to markets and thereby avoid bomb blasts. You cannot just lock yourself in your homes and say I will not travel by planes or by trains. But you definitely can drive a lot more safely.
About a year ago a friend of mine and me went speeding in the morning till tears were involuntarily dripping from my eyes. The thrill of it all was.... beyond fantastic! But in retrospective , I can't help but feel , was it necessary? What if we had skidded to deformity if not death? The oft used and tired slogan 'Speed thrills but kills' is more appropriate than it has been given credit for.
There is so much of tragedy in life that cannot be averted. So much of pain and suffering that we must need experience. Yet so much of tragedy we can avert just by driving safe. Just by deciding to not speed through life.
Drive Safe.
Five people died instantaneously.
The bus had been trying to overtake the bus ahead of it when due to brake failure it collided against the lorry. The bus I was travelling on was about 10 buses behind the one that collided. A couple of people in my bus were completely spooked out. They could not help but keep repeating "Oh my god! I normally travel by that bus. It's just that this time I could not get tickets to come by that". The fear of disaster. The fear of death. The eeriest fear that one can come across. It is the only one unexplained, unexpected and irreversible.
And the only thing it can leave you saying is "If only.....".
Everyday in the papers we read about people dying in automobile accidents. Yes, I know. There have been more terrible disasters happening lately. The bomb blasts , the train in AP that derailed killing hundreds, the floods that have inundated our entire country.... the list goes on. But fact remains that there are certain things that are within our control.
You cannot say that you will not go to markets and thereby avoid bomb blasts. You cannot just lock yourself in your homes and say I will not travel by planes or by trains. But you definitely can drive a lot more safely.
About a year ago a friend of mine and me went speeding in the morning till tears were involuntarily dripping from my eyes. The thrill of it all was.... beyond fantastic! But in retrospective , I can't help but feel , was it necessary? What if we had skidded to deformity if not death? The oft used and tired slogan 'Speed thrills but kills' is more appropriate than it has been given credit for.
There is so much of tragedy in life that cannot be averted. So much of pain and suffering that we must need experience. Yet so much of tragedy we can avert just by driving safe. Just by deciding to not speed through life.
Drive Safe.
Monday, August 15, 2005
GIBBERISH FROM THE HALF DEAD
Have you ever tried to control yourself from sleeping? I don’t mean the heroic utterings of “ I shall keep awake all night!” but those moments be it night or day when your eyes start feeling heavy, a languor creeps over you and your lids begin to shut. And just as they do, you jerk awake and open them again. It’s more a losing battle, actually. You versus your eyelids. They succeed more often that you do. But then I guess you do know. Anyone who has had an education would vouch for having experienced this.
Take me for example. The reason I write this blog right now, is because I suffer from the self same malady. So please excuse any excess of mediocrity. Do not rush to your nearest police station or make frantic calls to my dad in an attempt to inform them/him that I have been abducted and all my passwords have been stolen. Shall I tell you a secret? It’s something that I should not be saying on the internet because hackers might take note of it and cause irrevocable harm to me. Don’t ask me “What irrevocable?”. I don’t know. I just used the word because it sounded real good there. Anyway, I was talking about controlling sleep the way I desperately am right now. It’s a good thing that I type very fast. The one satisfaction I derive from it is that were the IT boom to become a bomb I would at least have a back up career . The other I can type what I am typing with my eyes closed. Isn’t that nice?
Controlling sleep. When I was in the 10th std, I had a fantastic chemistry teacher. She was extremely knowledgeable and explained concepts exceedingly well. Still, that didn’t prevent my eyes from closing. The sad thing about your eyes closing is that opening them again is an arduous and seemingly Herculean task. On the other hand, were you to give into the temptation and close your eyes, your desire for sleep would either vanish or just as you would give up and succumb to the ‘Draught of Soporia’, you would be caught by your professor for sleeping. At least I was. Not once. Many times. I used to sometimes sleep during sleepovers when the conversation would start become interesting. I would be responding to whatever my friends would be saying ( sometimes utter irrelevant crap) when suddenly I would drop off. My friends would find it exhausting. But then the ability to control sleep requires either genius or some trick in the book. If it is a trick in the book, don’t loan it to me. Gift it.
The worst part about feeling sleepy is that you end up writing gibberish in your answer papers.I had a civil exam to write.. And I wrote the lyrics of Hindi songs in my answer sheet. I know people have been known to have written their life story in their answer sheets. But that they do when they don’t know the answer at all. This I did when I knew the answer but my mind was quite detached from my fingers. Anyway, need to sign out so as to write some better stuff next for which I have a ‘requiem for sleep’. If it weren’t for the delete button I don’t know where this article would have gone. Forgive me for this piece of trash.
Take me for example. The reason I write this blog right now, is because I suffer from the self same malady. So please excuse any excess of mediocrity. Do not rush to your nearest police station or make frantic calls to my dad in an attempt to inform them/him that I have been abducted and all my passwords have been stolen. Shall I tell you a secret? It’s something that I should not be saying on the internet because hackers might take note of it and cause irrevocable harm to me. Don’t ask me “What irrevocable?”. I don’t know. I just used the word because it sounded real good there. Anyway, I was talking about controlling sleep the way I desperately am right now. It’s a good thing that I type very fast. The one satisfaction I derive from it is that were the IT boom to become a bomb I would at least have a back up career . The other I can type what I am typing with my eyes closed. Isn’t that nice?
Controlling sleep. When I was in the 10th std, I had a fantastic chemistry teacher. She was extremely knowledgeable and explained concepts exceedingly well. Still, that didn’t prevent my eyes from closing. The sad thing about your eyes closing is that opening them again is an arduous and seemingly Herculean task. On the other hand, were you to give into the temptation and close your eyes, your desire for sleep would either vanish or just as you would give up and succumb to the ‘Draught of Soporia’, you would be caught by your professor for sleeping. At least I was. Not once. Many times. I used to sometimes sleep during sleepovers when the conversation would start become interesting. I would be responding to whatever my friends would be saying ( sometimes utter irrelevant crap) when suddenly I would drop off. My friends would find it exhausting. But then the ability to control sleep requires either genius or some trick in the book. If it is a trick in the book, don’t loan it to me. Gift it.
The worst part about feeling sleepy is that you end up writing gibberish in your answer papers.I had a civil exam to write.. And I wrote the lyrics of Hindi songs in my answer sheet. I know people have been known to have written their life story in their answer sheets. But that they do when they don’t know the answer at all. This I did when I knew the answer but my mind was quite detached from my fingers. Anyway, need to sign out so as to write some better stuff next for which I have a ‘requiem for sleep’. If it weren’t for the delete button I don’t know where this article would have gone. Forgive me for this piece of trash.
Saturday, August 13, 2005
THE CRACK ON MY WALL
There is a crack on my wall. It’s not a small crack and it’s not the only one. But this particular crack seldom fails to get on my nerves. I had it painted once. But it would not be deterred. Within a couple of months the paint on it flaked and it appeared again. What makes it even more irksome is that it has some gibberish scrawled across it. I did not scribble on that wall. It was my nephew. A boy, I think, who fancies himself to be Pablo Picasso creating ‘Guernica’. It was four years ago, when in a burst of inspiration he decided to decorate (or was that desecrate?) the wall. I was sorely tempted to box his ears. Unfortunately, the fact that my cousin sister, his mother was also staying with us then made me desist. I was not too keen to have my ears boxed, which is what would have happened if I had succumbed to temptation.
I deviate. I was talking about the crack on the wall, not about the scribbling on it. Remember the earthquake that hit Chennai some years ago? No one died. No buildings fell. Actually, nothing happened. It was more the novelty, of being an earthquake in Chennai that made it hit the news. Well, that day I was lying on my bed reading a novel when suddenly my bed started to shake. For a second I thought I was hallucinating. Then I sat up and stared at the walls. Realized that the walls were trembling too! My reflex action is not too reflexive. It behaves more like an afterthought. After a few seconds of contemplating whether or not to crawl under the bed, I remembered that my grandmother was in the house too. So I went to her room and there she was, sitting on the bed, her fists clenched together, white as a sheet. When she saw me, she immediately asked “Is it just me? Or do you feel it too?” She was petrified that this was the sign of impending death. My grandmother was 92 back then. So I can’t really blame her for thinking so. I said “No Patti, It’s an earthquake”. She said “Oh, ok. Fine. “. I could see the colour seeping back into her face.
Once the tremors stopped and I decided it was quite safe I went to my balcony. I live in the second floor. I could see almost every person from my apartments standing on the road. I could hear them discussing the earthquake each one interjecting the other. Exclamations of horror, secretly tinged with excitement. I watched them for a few seconds wondering what they found so fascinating about the earthquake that they had to; en masse gather to discuss it for so long (It was more than an hour that they stood there for). Later I would rue my stupidity. Aren’t everyone supposed to get out of high rise buildings the microsecond they feel an earthquake?
Anyway, I deviate. The reason I mentioned (Didn’t it seem longer than mentioning?) the earthquake was that I believe that it was this earthquake that caused the crack to form on the wall. The crack I so detest.
I deviate. I was talking about the crack on the wall, not about the scribbling on it. Remember the earthquake that hit Chennai some years ago? No one died. No buildings fell. Actually, nothing happened. It was more the novelty, of being an earthquake in Chennai that made it hit the news. Well, that day I was lying on my bed reading a novel when suddenly my bed started to shake. For a second I thought I was hallucinating. Then I sat up and stared at the walls. Realized that the walls were trembling too! My reflex action is not too reflexive. It behaves more like an afterthought. After a few seconds of contemplating whether or not to crawl under the bed, I remembered that my grandmother was in the house too. So I went to her room and there she was, sitting on the bed, her fists clenched together, white as a sheet. When she saw me, she immediately asked “Is it just me? Or do you feel it too?” She was petrified that this was the sign of impending death. My grandmother was 92 back then. So I can’t really blame her for thinking so. I said “No Patti, It’s an earthquake”. She said “Oh, ok. Fine. “. I could see the colour seeping back into her face.
Once the tremors stopped and I decided it was quite safe I went to my balcony. I live in the second floor. I could see almost every person from my apartments standing on the road. I could hear them discussing the earthquake each one interjecting the other. Exclamations of horror, secretly tinged with excitement. I watched them for a few seconds wondering what they found so fascinating about the earthquake that they had to; en masse gather to discuss it for so long (It was more than an hour that they stood there for). Later I would rue my stupidity. Aren’t everyone supposed to get out of high rise buildings the microsecond they feel an earthquake?
Anyway, I deviate. The reason I mentioned (Didn’t it seem longer than mentioning?) the earthquake was that I believe that it was this earthquake that caused the crack to form on the wall. The crack I so detest.
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