I am at one of the many parks in Chennai for my morning walk. I keep trying different
parks and hope to do a post called "Parks of Chennai" or something like that soon. :-)
You have to give credit to the Chennai Corporation for the way they have renovated
most of the parks in the city. Not only does it make the city look good, it provides
greenery (lungs for the city) and also a place for people to exercise, walk or just plain
unwind.
As I finish my walk and walk out of the park, I am accosted by a guy with a flyer, which advertises a gym in the locality. Many years ago, I was a daily gym-goer and loved the experience, but then somehow the habit died away. I do think of joining a gym, but am
not sure whether I would be disciplined enough to do it daily. Anyway, I politely decline
the flyer (why take it & dump in trash, when I have no plans of joining) and walk home.
I was reminded of a time long ago when there were flyers of a different kind. And when
me (and my sisters) would vie for these flyers. Like many other things of the past, this
has also become extinct and so I thought it would be a good idea to share it here for
those that have never known about this.
Also, having posts about such vignettes of my childhood on this blog would make this site
a sort of a repository for my son to browse through when he is able to read and will help
him know about how life was in his father's time & age.
In our school-days, when we were staying outside Kerala, one annual routine was the
2-month summer vacation that we would spend at Kerala with our grandparents.
They looked forward to it as much as we kids did. After spending 10 lonely months,
they awaited the 2 months when we would be at home.
Like with other NRK (Non Resident Keralite) kids, we found a lot of things new and
intriguing at Kerala. Stuff which we did not see in other parts of India that is known
to us. And one of them was the peculiar way in which movies were advertised back
then. Ofcourse there did exist movie-posters stuck on walls, but the theatre-owners
used another advertising medium, which we kids from out of town found interesting.
Every Friday when a new movie was released, a car fitted with loudspeakers would
do the rounds of the town, with a guy extolling about the new movie, the actors and
stuff. We could hear the racket even when the car was still a few hundred metres
away and would run to the main gate. The motivation being the flyers that they
would throw out of the car windows.
The flyer would have the movie name & brief storyline and other related stuff printed
on it. Plus ofcourse a miniature replication of the movie poster itself. We would wave
out to the guys in the car and on most days they would throw out a bunch of flyers
which would fly here & there behind the car and which we would go collect.
Since our Malayalam reading skill was almost zero back then, there wasn't much
sense that we could make out of the poster, other than gawking at the picture on it.
We would take the flyer to our Grandpa who would read it out for us.
Over the years, this way of advertising movies died a gradual death. Today the daily
newspaper lists out the movies playing at the theatres in town. And ofcourse you have
the movie posters plastered on the walls in town.
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Monday, June 29, 2009
For the sceptics, walking does help.
I am driving my parents to the railway station last Saturday. Since they were in town to get their annual medical check-up done, I had cancelled my weekend trip to Kerala last week.
They were quite surprised (pleasantly) at the huge change they saw in me. Inplace of the
guy who slept till 7:30AM and then rushed to work, here was someone who woke at5AM, walked for 4-5kms and was home even before they woke up at 6:30AM or so. Also, from someone who was not necessarily much of a fruit-eater, I had stocked the fridge with
various types of fruits, which I consume as-is or as juice.
I was asking them about the results of their annual check-up and it seemed, the results
were really good. Dad's total cholestrol was down to 126, while it was 147 for my Mom.
Though not very surprising given their regular walks and other work they do at home,
it still was the lowest they ever recorded.
These figures are pretty impressive for their age. More so, when compared with my
cholestrol figures which are roughly double my Dad's.
Dad : How come you suddenly became so health-conscious ?
Me : Nothing. Just like that.
Dad : Happened to see your health-records file. Your cholestrol figures are too high.
Me : Hmm. Yeah, they are pretty high. Am over the safe number of 200.
Mum : So, is it due to this that you started walking and including fruits in your diet ?
Me : Partly yes. The figures were too high and I reckoned that walking would help
reduce it apart from giving me some much-needed exercise. And the fruits would
help reduce LDL and increase HDL.
Dad : The change is very much visible in you.
Me : It's only 12-13 days since I started this routine. Isn't it too early for results ?
Dad : Well, you have lost weight and we can see loss of flab at your tummy too.
What weight are you now ?
Me : For the past 15 years or so, I have been having more-or-less same weight - 67kg.
Dad : No way. You would be weighing much less now.
Me : While I would like that, I dont think I would have lost much weight in just 2 weeks.
Anyway, after dropping them at the station, I return home & the first thing I do is weigh
myself on the bathroom scale. To say that I was surprised by the readings, would be an understatement.
The scale showed 63.5 kgs. Even accounting for some error in reading and rounding it
off to 64kgs, that is an impressive 3kgs gone. Pretty awesome results for just 2 weeks.
While weight-reduction was not my target with my daily walks, it does feel good to
know that some unwanted baggage has been lost in the process.
So, if any of you are looking at reducing weight, all you need is a pair of walking shoes.
Hit the nearest park or even the road and before you know it, you would be marvelling
at how you manage to not only lose weight, but also feel healthier/fitter.
They were quite surprised (pleasantly) at the huge change they saw in me. Inplace of the
guy who slept till 7:30AM and then rushed to work, here was someone who woke at5AM, walked for 4-5kms and was home even before they woke up at 6:30AM or so. Also, from someone who was not necessarily much of a fruit-eater, I had stocked the fridge with
various types of fruits, which I consume as-is or as juice.
I was asking them about the results of their annual check-up and it seemed, the results
were really good. Dad's total cholestrol was down to 126, while it was 147 for my Mom.
Though not very surprising given their regular walks and other work they do at home,
it still was the lowest they ever recorded.
These figures are pretty impressive for their age. More so, when compared with my
cholestrol figures which are roughly double my Dad's.
Dad : How come you suddenly became so health-conscious ?
Me : Nothing. Just like that.
Dad : Happened to see your health-records file. Your cholestrol figures are too high.
Me : Hmm. Yeah, they are pretty high. Am over the safe number of 200.
Mum : So, is it due to this that you started walking and including fruits in your diet ?
Me : Partly yes. The figures were too high and I reckoned that walking would help
reduce it apart from giving me some much-needed exercise. And the fruits would
help reduce LDL and increase HDL.
Dad : The change is very much visible in you.
Me : It's only 12-13 days since I started this routine. Isn't it too early for results ?
Dad : Well, you have lost weight and we can see loss of flab at your tummy too.
What weight are you now ?
Me : For the past 15 years or so, I have been having more-or-less same weight - 67kg.
Dad : No way. You would be weighing much less now.
Me : While I would like that, I dont think I would have lost much weight in just 2 weeks.
Anyway, after dropping them at the station, I return home & the first thing I do is weigh
myself on the bathroom scale. To say that I was surprised by the readings, would be an understatement.
The scale showed 63.5 kgs. Even accounting for some error in reading and rounding it
off to 64kgs, that is an impressive 3kgs gone. Pretty awesome results for just 2 weeks.
While weight-reduction was not my target with my daily walks, it does feel good to
know that some unwanted baggage has been lost in the process.
So, if any of you are looking at reducing weight, all you need is a pair of walking shoes.
Hit the nearest park or even the road and before you know it, you would be marvelling
at how you manage to not only lose weight, but also feel healthier/fitter.
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
Who said spoilers are only for cars ?
Was driving home last week when I came across this auto-rickshaw with a spoiler in place.
Given the speed at which these 3-wheelers zip by, guess its needed to keep them from flying away.
Welcome to Motown Chennai - the Detroit of India, where you have modded autos also.
Given the speed at which these 3-wheelers zip by, guess its needed to keep them from flying away.
Welcome to Motown Chennai - the Detroit of India, where you have modded autos also.
Some father-son bonding. Plus an elephant & time away from the madding crowd.
It's around 4PM last Sunday evening & my son had just woken up from his afternoon nap.
As on most days, he was quite irritable after waking up. Since my wife had some chores to attend to, I decide to take him out to change his mood.
As we get into the car, my Dad looks up from the newspaper with an enquiring look.
"We are going to the nearby temple", I tell him.
I can see a puzzled expression on his face. For many months, there has been this minor disagreement between us about me skipping Sunday mass at church. And since I don't
go, my wife & son also skip the ritual. And to top it all, I am now visiting a temple. :-)
I allay his fears over my converting to Hinduism by telling him that the idea of going to
the temple is only to spend some time with the elephant that belongs to the temple, or
Kutti-Aana (Malluspeak for little-elephant) as my son calls it. I know that the short drive
and some time spent watching the elephant will cheer my son up.
A 5-min drive takes us to the temple. There are some elderly people sitting at the gate
and talking, which I guess must be a daily ritual for them. Not much activity inside the
temple though. We leave our footwear outside and walk on the fine sand in the premises
and reach the place where the elephant is tethered. My son walking on the soft sandy
premises of the temple.
As is our usual practice,we sit on the soft sandy earth some 15 metres away from the
pachyderm and watch it as it munches on cocount tree leaves. Even though very young,
this particular elephant (it's name is Premshankar) is known to be a little roguish at times.
Usually you can make out how calm an elephant is by its activity. It would just stand still,
almost motionless, occasionally swatting flies with its tail. But this guy is always swaying
this way and that, occasionally stretching at the chains that bind 2 of its legs to 2 trees.
We sit and watch it for sometime. Slowly the sun is setting and since my son is bored of
gawking at the elephant, we decide to walk around the temple. There is a pathway running around the temple made of thick stone slabs and we walk on it, taking in the view. This is
the aal-thara (banian tree with a base at the bottom, with some idols placed there).
During a previous visit, me and my wife noticed that meshed inside the banian tree's grip
is a palm tree, which is not normally visible. We can see the upper half of the palm, but the
bottom half is not visible at all.
It is so silent and serene out there. I have been to many temples in Tamilnadu, but I don't
think they have the ambience of a Kerala temple or "Kshetram" as a temple is known here. Maybe because space is at a premium in Chennai. This particular temple is spread over
some 2-3 acres of land.
You can see the stone-slab walkway that runs around the sanctum-sanctorum.
Another view of the temple.
The silence, the fresh air, the ambience, everything is so soothing and rejuvenating.
We spend some time walking around the temple and by now my son is back in a
happy mood. Time to go home, where my wife would have prepared some snacks
for him.
As on most days, he was quite irritable after waking up. Since my wife had some chores to attend to, I decide to take him out to change his mood.
As we get into the car, my Dad looks up from the newspaper with an enquiring look.
"We are going to the nearby temple", I tell him.
I can see a puzzled expression on his face. For many months, there has been this minor disagreement between us about me skipping Sunday mass at church. And since I don't
go, my wife & son also skip the ritual. And to top it all, I am now visiting a temple. :-)
I allay his fears over my converting to Hinduism by telling him that the idea of going to
the temple is only to spend some time with the elephant that belongs to the temple, or
Kutti-Aana (Malluspeak for little-elephant) as my son calls it. I know that the short drive
and some time spent watching the elephant will cheer my son up.
A 5-min drive takes us to the temple. There are some elderly people sitting at the gate
and talking, which I guess must be a daily ritual for them. Not much activity inside the
temple though. We leave our footwear outside and walk on the fine sand in the premises
and reach the place where the elephant is tethered. My son walking on the soft sandy
premises of the temple.
As is our usual practice,we sit on the soft sandy earth some 15 metres away from the
pachyderm and watch it as it munches on cocount tree leaves. Even though very young,
this particular elephant (it's name is Premshankar) is known to be a little roguish at times.
Usually you can make out how calm an elephant is by its activity. It would just stand still,
almost motionless, occasionally swatting flies with its tail. But this guy is always swaying
this way and that, occasionally stretching at the chains that bind 2 of its legs to 2 trees.
We sit and watch it for sometime. Slowly the sun is setting and since my son is bored of
gawking at the elephant, we decide to walk around the temple. There is a pathway running around the temple made of thick stone slabs and we walk on it, taking in the view. This is
the aal-thara (banian tree with a base at the bottom, with some idols placed there).
During a previous visit, me and my wife noticed that meshed inside the banian tree's grip
is a palm tree, which is not normally visible. We can see the upper half of the palm, but the
bottom half is not visible at all.
It is so silent and serene out there. I have been to many temples in Tamilnadu, but I don't
think they have the ambience of a Kerala temple or "Kshetram" as a temple is known here. Maybe because space is at a premium in Chennai. This particular temple is spread over
some 2-3 acres of land.
You can see the stone-slab walkway that runs around the sanctum-sanctorum.
Another view of the temple.
The silence, the fresh air, the ambience, everything is so soothing and rejuvenating.
We spend some time walking around the temple and by now my son is back in a
happy mood. Time to go home, where my wife would have prepared some snacks
for him.
Friday, June 19, 2009
Happy 14th Birthday to ..
... my bike. Yeah, 14 years ago, it was on this 19th day of June that I bought my bike.
I can still remember the excitement I felt when I brought her home. My first big-ticket
purchase - cost me Rs.37,100.
I can remember how impressed I was with the noise-less & fume-less Japanese 4-stroke
engine, which was so different from the noisy and smoke-spewing 2-stroke bikes. I would
kick-start the bike and listen to the rythm of the engine - like listening to a heartbeat.
It did not matter that I was paying 1/3rd of my salary as the monthly payment to my organisation who had funded the purchase with an interest-free loan. It has been with
me in times of joy, sadness, anger and never ever left me stranded. In all these 14 years,
it has never ever broken down.
And guess what even today, it starts at the first kick-start. Even when I return after
a long absence on business or vacation. Japanese engineering is just awesome. And all
this with negligible maintenance. Just an engine oil-change every 3000kms and an odd
service every year or so.
For months, I would not let anyone ride it. Had to deny close friends and even the M.D.
of our organisation. Heck, he funded it and I said no to him. But I knew he was aware of
my attachement and was just asking in jest.
And then the very first time I lend it to a friend, he crashes my bike. I reach the accident
spot, see my bike lying there, the indicator light still blinking. I did not even notice my
close friend, who was lying in a pool of blood, his jaw-bone broken. Both wheel rims are
bent, the headlight assembly is smashed and the frontfork (suspension) is damaged by
the impact at high speed. Still the bike started at the first kick. After taking my friend to hospital, I return the next day and take my bike home. Was so depressed. Got it repaired,
but the pain never left me. Over time it did soften up a bit.
Today, guys change bikes every 2-3 years or earlier. My friend who bought his first bike
around the same time, is now onto his 3rd bike. Old colleagues are surprised to see me
using the same bike that they had seen me using a decade ago, and advice me to exchange
it for a new one.
Heck, the last time I went to get a puncture fixed, the old guy at the shop was indignant
that I was using such an old bike. His words were, "Sir, give away this bike and get a new
one. It is so easy to buy a bike today with various easy installment schemes."
But, how do I give away something that over the years has become a part of me ?
15 years is the government decided life of bikes/cars and the road-tax we pay on buying
a new vehicle is valid only for 15 years. Next year it will be 15 years old and I will have to
get it Fitness-Certified and pay fresh taxes for the next 5 years.
If things go to plan, I will give her a new lease of life next year before the Fitness test -
change all her worn-out parts, give her a new coat of paint and make her spanking new
again. I owe it to her for her steadfast companionship & reliability over the last 14 years.
Love you, girl.
P.S. : Apart from me, there is only 1 other admirer of the bike. Its my son, who when he
comes to Chennai can't have enough of sitting on it and repeating, "Pappa-de bike", as if
it were a Suzuki Hayabusa. :-)
I can still remember the excitement I felt when I brought her home. My first big-ticket
purchase - cost me Rs.37,100.
I can remember how impressed I was with the noise-less & fume-less Japanese 4-stroke
engine, which was so different from the noisy and smoke-spewing 2-stroke bikes. I would
kick-start the bike and listen to the rythm of the engine - like listening to a heartbeat.
It did not matter that I was paying 1/3rd of my salary as the monthly payment to my organisation who had funded the purchase with an interest-free loan. It has been with
me in times of joy, sadness, anger and never ever left me stranded. In all these 14 years,
it has never ever broken down.
And guess what even today, it starts at the first kick-start. Even when I return after
a long absence on business or vacation. Japanese engineering is just awesome. And all
this with negligible maintenance. Just an engine oil-change every 3000kms and an odd
service every year or so.
For months, I would not let anyone ride it. Had to deny close friends and even the M.D.
of our organisation. Heck, he funded it and I said no to him. But I knew he was aware of
my attachement and was just asking in jest.
And then the very first time I lend it to a friend, he crashes my bike. I reach the accident
spot, see my bike lying there, the indicator light still blinking. I did not even notice my
close friend, who was lying in a pool of blood, his jaw-bone broken. Both wheel rims are
bent, the headlight assembly is smashed and the frontfork (suspension) is damaged by
the impact at high speed. Still the bike started at the first kick. After taking my friend to hospital, I return the next day and take my bike home. Was so depressed. Got it repaired,
but the pain never left me. Over time it did soften up a bit.
Today, guys change bikes every 2-3 years or earlier. My friend who bought his first bike
around the same time, is now onto his 3rd bike. Old colleagues are surprised to see me
using the same bike that they had seen me using a decade ago, and advice me to exchange
it for a new one.
Heck, the last time I went to get a puncture fixed, the old guy at the shop was indignant
that I was using such an old bike. His words were, "Sir, give away this bike and get a new
one. It is so easy to buy a bike today with various easy installment schemes."
But, how do I give away something that over the years has become a part of me ?
15 years is the government decided life of bikes/cars and the road-tax we pay on buying
a new vehicle is valid only for 15 years. Next year it will be 15 years old and I will have to
get it Fitness-Certified and pay fresh taxes for the next 5 years.
If things go to plan, I will give her a new lease of life next year before the Fitness test -
change all her worn-out parts, give her a new coat of paint and make her spanking new
again. I owe it to her for her steadfast companionship & reliability over the last 14 years.
Love you, girl.
P.S. : Apart from me, there is only 1 other admirer of the bike. Its my son, who when he
comes to Chennai can't have enough of sitting on it and repeating, "Pappa-de bike", as if
it were a Suzuki Hayabusa. :-)
Do you dig porridge ? Sure, but not like how this lady dished it out.
A news item in yesterday's Deccan Chronicle tells about a woman who dished out porridge
for her husband. Well, on the face of it, there is nothing abnormal about it, because as we
speak there are countless women making and serving porridge for their men.
What makes this lady from Hong Kong stand out is the way she served it for her man.
She poured hot porridge on his groin. Ouch. That must have hurt bad.
And the provocation for this act was that he was seeing another woman on the sly. Women
these days are getting innovative in putting across their displeasure to their cheating men.
It was not so long ago that Lorena Bobbitt contributed a new word to the English language
- bobbitize - after she cut off the, ahem, genitals of her husband. If I remember correctly,
that was also to show how angry she was about his straying.
I do love porridge, but please serve it to me at the dining table in the proper crockery. The
last thing I want is hot 'n steaming porridge on my groin, of all places.
for her husband. Well, on the face of it, there is nothing abnormal about it, because as we
speak there are countless women making and serving porridge for their men.
What makes this lady from Hong Kong stand out is the way she served it for her man.
She poured hot porridge on his groin. Ouch. That must have hurt bad.
And the provocation for this act was that he was seeing another woman on the sly. Women
these days are getting innovative in putting across their displeasure to their cheating men.
It was not so long ago that Lorena Bobbitt contributed a new word to the English language
- bobbitize - after she cut off the, ahem, genitals of her husband. If I remember correctly,
that was also to show how angry she was about his straying.
I do love porridge, but please serve it to me at the dining table in the proper crockery. The
last thing I want is hot 'n steaming porridge on my groin, of all places.
Thursday, June 18, 2009
When you can criticize bad service, do take time out to appreciate good service too.
I was searching for a document in the maze that my laptop is, when I stumbled across an appreciation letter that I wrote 5 years ago. I am very vocal when it comes to criticising
bad service, though not sure if I always take the same effort to appreciate good service.
Anyway, this was one time I did appreciate a good service experience. Actually it was an
out-of-the-way service rendered by a Government employee & there was no way I could
not say a big "Thank you".
Read on - it is pretty self-explanatory.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Hi Ms.Geetha,
Let me introduce myself first. My name is Biju and I belong to Mavelikara, but have been
working at Madras for a few years now.
The reason for writing this letter is to express my appreciation and thanks for the way in
which you do your work with sincerity and dedication.
On 25th Jan 2004, I came to Mavelikara station at 6AM in the morning to book my Tatkal
ticket to Madras for the next day. I saw that there were already 3 people in the line before
me and just one booking counter. Since only 72 berths are available for Tatkal, I did not
have much hope of getting a berth (at Madras, if we aren't the first person in the line, there
is no chance of getting a Tatkal berth for TVM Mail).
At 7:45AM, you came in, scrutinised the applications & identity proofs and as soon as the
reservations opened at 8AM, typed in the Tatkal forms at rapid speed resulting in almost
all the persons in the line getting their berths. You also saved time by collecting the ticket
cost from the applicants only after all the Tatkal applications had been keyed-in & printed.
I was simply amazed by this dedication to duty. Today when most government employees
don't bother to do their job and expect bribes for doing their duty, here was an employee
who was taking extra effort so that consumer satisfaction is achieved. All of us in the line
were all praise for your dedication to your work. Since thanking you in person there wasn't
possible as there still were people in the queue to reserve tickets, I got your name from
another employee at the station and decided to put my appreciation in writing.
Just as I hope that other employees also emulate your dedication and sincerity, I myself
have a lot to learn from you in terms of improving my output at work and in being more
sincere and dedicated to my work.
Thank you Madam, for your exemplary dedication to work and customer satisfaction. If we
have more people like you, India can truly become a world-class country.
Best Regards,
Biju
07-Feb-2003
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I had mentioned my mailing address, but did not get a reply. I could not even confirm
whether she received my letter because after sometime she got transferred from there.
But if she did get it, I hope she is glad to know that her dedication was appreciated.
bad service, though not sure if I always take the same effort to appreciate good service.
Anyway, this was one time I did appreciate a good service experience. Actually it was an
out-of-the-way service rendered by a Government employee & there was no way I could
not say a big "Thank you".
Read on - it is pretty self-explanatory.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Hi Ms.Geetha,
Let me introduce myself first. My name is Biju and I belong to Mavelikara, but have been
working at Madras for a few years now.
The reason for writing this letter is to express my appreciation and thanks for the way in
which you do your work with sincerity and dedication.
On 25th Jan 2004, I came to Mavelikara station at 6AM in the morning to book my Tatkal
ticket to Madras for the next day. I saw that there were already 3 people in the line before
me and just one booking counter. Since only 72 berths are available for Tatkal, I did not
have much hope of getting a berth (at Madras, if we aren't the first person in the line, there
is no chance of getting a Tatkal berth for TVM Mail).
At 7:45AM, you came in, scrutinised the applications & identity proofs and as soon as the
reservations opened at 8AM, typed in the Tatkal forms at rapid speed resulting in almost
all the persons in the line getting their berths. You also saved time by collecting the ticket
cost from the applicants only after all the Tatkal applications had been keyed-in & printed.
I was simply amazed by this dedication to duty. Today when most government employees
don't bother to do their job and expect bribes for doing their duty, here was an employee
who was taking extra effort so that consumer satisfaction is achieved. All of us in the line
were all praise for your dedication to your work. Since thanking you in person there wasn't
possible as there still were people in the queue to reserve tickets, I got your name from
another employee at the station and decided to put my appreciation in writing.
Just as I hope that other employees also emulate your dedication and sincerity, I myself
have a lot to learn from you in terms of improving my output at work and in being more
sincere and dedicated to my work.
Thank you Madam, for your exemplary dedication to work and customer satisfaction. If we
have more people like you, India can truly become a world-class country.
Best Regards,
Biju
07-Feb-2003
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I had mentioned my mailing address, but did not get a reply. I could not even confirm
whether she received my letter because after sometime she got transferred from there.
But if she did get it, I hope she is glad to know that her dedication was appreciated.
When wisdom finds its match.
For a previous blog-post, I had googled the 'Queen of Sheba', just so that I do not end up
posting inaccurate details. One link led to another and I found myself engrossed in the
Wiki page devoted to the Queen of Sheba.
I knew about King Solomon of Israel, both via the Bible and also via other general reading material. And I also remember reading somewhere about a meeting between him and the
Queen of Sheba, both renowned for their wisdom. But I never knew about this nugget that showcases a test of their wisdom and a brilliantly executed seduction move by the King.
Wikipedia mentions about this facet of their meeting which happens at Solomon's palace,
where she is a guest invited by King Solomon to a banquet. He ensures that she is served
spicy food to induce her thirst & then invites her to stay in his palace overnight. Not with
the best of intentions though. :-)
The Queen asked him to swear that he would not take her by force. He accepts upon the condition that she, in turn, would not take anything from his house by force. The Queen
assures that she would not, and is slightly offended by the implication that she, a rich and powerful monarch, would engage in stealing.
However, she wakes up in the middle of the night, feeling very thirsty. Just as she reaches
for a jar of water placed close to her bed, King Solomon appears, reminding her that she
was breaking her oath since water is one of the most valuable of all material possessions.
Thus, while quenching her thirst, she set the king free from his promise and they spent
the night together. Those guys sure had some ingenious seduction techniques back then.
Not at all surprising given that the guy had some 1000 wives, though I cannot fathom
how he would even recognise them all, let alone be able to devote time for them. Not to
mention handling the nagging - in these times, men find it tough to handle one nagging
wife itself and this guy managed a 1000 of them.
Hats off to your patience, King Solomon. And ofcourse your wisdom.
posting inaccurate details. One link led to another and I found myself engrossed in the
Wiki page devoted to the Queen of Sheba.
I knew about King Solomon of Israel, both via the Bible and also via other general reading material. And I also remember reading somewhere about a meeting between him and the
Queen of Sheba, both renowned for their wisdom. But I never knew about this nugget that showcases a test of their wisdom and a brilliantly executed seduction move by the King.
Wikipedia mentions about this facet of their meeting which happens at Solomon's palace,
where she is a guest invited by King Solomon to a banquet. He ensures that she is served
spicy food to induce her thirst & then invites her to stay in his palace overnight. Not with
the best of intentions though. :-)
The Queen asked him to swear that he would not take her by force. He accepts upon the condition that she, in turn, would not take anything from his house by force. The Queen
assures that she would not, and is slightly offended by the implication that she, a rich and powerful monarch, would engage in stealing.
However, she wakes up in the middle of the night, feeling very thirsty. Just as she reaches
for a jar of water placed close to her bed, King Solomon appears, reminding her that she
was breaking her oath since water is one of the most valuable of all material possessions.
Thus, while quenching her thirst, she set the king free from his promise and they spent
the night together. Those guys sure had some ingenious seduction techniques back then.
Not at all surprising given that the guy had some 1000 wives, though I cannot fathom
how he would even recognise them all, let alone be able to devote time for them. Not to
mention handling the nagging - in these times, men find it tough to handle one nagging
wife itself and this guy managed a 1000 of them.
Hats off to your patience, King Solomon. And ofcourse your wisdom.
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
Twitter. And why it's good to act busy.
I am digging into a plate of tasty 'chicken biryani' at lunch. It's been a long time since I had a well-prepared chicken biryani & I am enjoying each morsel. As if to interrupt my pleasure,
my cellphone rings.
It's a friend who wants to know what "Twitter" is all about. Actually her boss wants to know
and has tasked her to find out. While I don't twit (heck, I don't even find time to update my
blog, forget twitting), I do know what it is all about & give her a gist of the whole thing.
She hangs up & I return to my chicken biryani. After the lunch, am just shooting the breeze
with some colleagues, when she calls up again.
What's your boss doing enquiring about Twitter? Is he gonna start twitting?
I have no idea. He asked me if I know about it and since I did not, I told him I will check and
let him know. And that's when I called you.
Oh, OK.
He asked me whether I got it clarified by my husband.
And..
Well, I told him that my husband is a very busy man who doesn't have time for such trivia
and that I checked with a friend who works in I.T. and doesn't have much to do anyway &
has lots of spare time on his hands.
!?!?!?!?!
See, you should not help people. All it gets you is a label of not being busy enough. Guess I
should've stuck to polishing off the chicken biryani, instead of taking the call, which might
have given the impression that I was too busy to even attend my phone calls.
my cellphone rings.
It's a friend who wants to know what "Twitter" is all about. Actually her boss wants to know
and has tasked her to find out. While I don't twit (heck, I don't even find time to update my
blog, forget twitting), I do know what it is all about & give her a gist of the whole thing.
She hangs up & I return to my chicken biryani. After the lunch, am just shooting the breeze
with some colleagues, when she calls up again.
What's your boss doing enquiring about Twitter? Is he gonna start twitting?
I have no idea. He asked me if I know about it and since I did not, I told him I will check and
let him know. And that's when I called you.
Oh, OK.
He asked me whether I got it clarified by my husband.
And..
Well, I told him that my husband is a very busy man who doesn't have time for such trivia
and that I checked with a friend who works in I.T. and doesn't have much to do anyway &
has lots of spare time on his hands.
!?!?!?!?!
See, you should not help people. All it gets you is a label of not being busy enough. Guess I
should've stuck to polishing off the chicken biryani, instead of taking the call, which might
have given the impression that I was too busy to even attend my phone calls.
Friday, June 12, 2009
Flowers, a clueless bee and the Queen of Sheba.
I was dusting off the TV cabinet when I sensed a bee (or something like that) fluttering
around me. Usually my instinct would be to swat these pesky things, but I continue with
my task, while it comes and settles on a bunch of artifical flowers set in a clay flowerpot
kept on the cabinet.
This pot & the flowers in it was a gift from a family who used to stay next door and the
lady of the house was someone with an artistic bend and did nice paintings on clay pots.
As I watch the bee hover on the artificial flowers, I was surprised that it could not make
out that those were not real flowers.
I was reminded of a story I read while in school about how a queen (was it the Queen of
Sheba?) who was shown 2 identical sets of flowers and asked to identify the real flowers.
Being the intelligent woman she was, she opened the windows of the room they were in,
which drew in the bees that promptly settled on the real flowers, solving the puzzle.
Queen Sheba can thank her stars that the bees that flew in her window were not clueless
like the one I encountered. Or the world would not have remembered her as a wise woman.
around me. Usually my instinct would be to swat these pesky things, but I continue with
my task, while it comes and settles on a bunch of artifical flowers set in a clay flowerpot
kept on the cabinet.
This pot & the flowers in it was a gift from a family who used to stay next door and the
lady of the house was someone with an artistic bend and did nice paintings on clay pots.
As I watch the bee hover on the artificial flowers, I was surprised that it could not make
out that those were not real flowers.
I was reminded of a story I read while in school about how a queen (was it the Queen of
Sheba?) who was shown 2 identical sets of flowers and asked to identify the real flowers.
Being the intelligent woman she was, she opened the windows of the room they were in,
which drew in the bees that promptly settled on the real flowers, solving the puzzle.
Queen Sheba can thank her stars that the bees that flew in her window were not clueless
like the one I encountered. Or the world would not have remembered her as a wise woman.
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
Memories unleashed by the written word.
Since we are looking at getting an LCD TV for the TV-room in Kerala, I spent sometime last week cleaning up the room and re-arranging the furniture so that we could identify the best location for the TV.
While cleaning the shelf in the room, I came across a diary, which even though I was seeing
after many years, I instantly recognised as one of the diaries maintained by my grandfather.
I should know, because in the later years of his life, when his eyesight deteriorated and a
stroke rendered one symmetric half of his body paralysed, I took on the role of his scribe.
While I relished the role of writing out his notes, the only minor problem was writing in Malayalam. Having never learnt Malayalam in school, my only exposure to it was the
private tuition that my Dad arranged for us when we spent 2 months of vacation every
year at Kerala. So while we could read the language pretty well, writing was a bit tedious.
But I still enjoyed the task and would look forward to the sessions of diary writing. I think
I might have got the habit of diary writing from him, because it was from around that time
that I started writing diaries for the next 8 years or so. All of the diaries are still with me
and it is fun to delve into one of them now and then - to relive the childhood crushes I had
and other incidents which seemed significant enough then to deserve a diary entry.
Even this blog is an extension of my diary writing. Instead of writing on paper, I have my thoughts in cyberspace. Only difference is that while I am very guarded about my paper
diaries, I have left the blog open to anyone who is interested to read it.
Anyway, I bring the diary to Chennai deciding to read it at leisure. Yesterday night I
decided to have a brief look and was floored by the varied contents and the memories it
brought back.
My grandfather starts the entries sometime in the early seventies around which time he
retired from his job. It has entries by him for my parent's wedding, birth details of me &
my sisters along with our stars (as per Malayalam calendar), construction details of the
home we live in today etc.
I can recognise my writing wherein I have recorded details of coconuts harvested every
few months from our 3 plots, detailed expense statements of the money my Dad gave for
home expenses etc.
I can make out my sister's writing on some pages where she has either used the pages
for making academic notes or for writing down the lyrics of some movie songs from that
time - the Tamil movie 'Punnagai Mannan' being one of them.
Ofcourse, some of the stuff written in Malayalam by my Grandpa is not decipherable by
me and I guess I will have to take my wife's help as she is more proficient in the language.
Anyhow, I guess it would be fun to post some of the info here as it gives an insight into
how life was some 35 years ago.
While cleaning the shelf in the room, I came across a diary, which even though I was seeing
after many years, I instantly recognised as one of the diaries maintained by my grandfather.
I should know, because in the later years of his life, when his eyesight deteriorated and a
stroke rendered one symmetric half of his body paralysed, I took on the role of his scribe.
While I relished the role of writing out his notes, the only minor problem was writing in Malayalam. Having never learnt Malayalam in school, my only exposure to it was the
private tuition that my Dad arranged for us when we spent 2 months of vacation every
year at Kerala. So while we could read the language pretty well, writing was a bit tedious.
But I still enjoyed the task and would look forward to the sessions of diary writing. I think
I might have got the habit of diary writing from him, because it was from around that time
that I started writing diaries for the next 8 years or so. All of the diaries are still with me
and it is fun to delve into one of them now and then - to relive the childhood crushes I had
and other incidents which seemed significant enough then to deserve a diary entry.
Even this blog is an extension of my diary writing. Instead of writing on paper, I have my thoughts in cyberspace. Only difference is that while I am very guarded about my paper
diaries, I have left the blog open to anyone who is interested to read it.
Anyway, I bring the diary to Chennai deciding to read it at leisure. Yesterday night I
decided to have a brief look and was floored by the varied contents and the memories it
brought back.
My grandfather starts the entries sometime in the early seventies around which time he
retired from his job. It has entries by him for my parent's wedding, birth details of me &
my sisters along with our stars (as per Malayalam calendar), construction details of the
home we live in today etc.
I can recognise my writing wherein I have recorded details of coconuts harvested every
few months from our 3 plots, detailed expense statements of the money my Dad gave for
home expenses etc.
I can make out my sister's writing on some pages where she has either used the pages
for making academic notes or for writing down the lyrics of some movie songs from that
time - the Tamil movie 'Punnagai Mannan' being one of them.
Ofcourse, some of the stuff written in Malayalam by my Grandpa is not decipherable by
me and I guess I will have to take my wife's help as she is more proficient in the language.
Anyhow, I guess it would be fun to post some of the info here as it gives an insight into
how life was some 35 years ago.
Tuesday, June 09, 2009
Reservation for women in Parliament.
After some lull, there is again talk of pushing through the bill that calls for 1/3rd (33.3%) reservation for women in the Indian Parliament and other state law-making bodies. I am
all for equal rights for women, but reserving a set percentage of seats for women is in my
opinion making them more equal.
I respect the rule that reserves seats for women on buses & sometimes even go out of my
way to ensure that a standing woman gets a seat that's wrongly occupied by inconsiderate
males. But to reserve a set number of seats in the highest law making body or for that
matter any law-making body, is wrong.
We already have certain constituencies that have been reserved for certain sections of
people, which itself needs to be undone, in my opinion. For eg. to be able to stand for
elections to my municipal ward in Kerala, you need to be a woman and also need to
belong to the SC/ST. This is absurd for various reasons :
1) This negates the right of people belonging to other sections from standing for office.
For eg. if I want to stand for the municipal elections from the constituency to which I
belong to and where we pay our property taxes, I can't. I see this as an infringement
on my rights as a citizen of India.
2) Reservation (in any sphere) usually results in talent being subverted and my ward
is an apt example. The major parties could not find in their ranks women who also were
SC/ST, to put up as candidates. Finally after scrambling for 'suitable'candidates that fit
the reservation criteria, they ended up putting 4 women candidates who were in no way
fit to respresent us. Neither did they have political awareness or enough education or
even street-smartness to do things that would benefit our ward.
3) When women are taking on men in almost all domains from tech-jobs to the Army,
I don't see a reason why they need an unfair advantage in the form of reservation,
when it comes to political representation.
If at all there is concern about not enough women coming into politics, why not enforce
a rule that requires all political parties to have 1/3rd of their candidates as women ?
That way, even if some party puts up a women candidate for my constituency, I still
retain the right to contest from there - even as an independent. Also, we can leave the
decision on their worthiness to the electorate as is intended in a democracy.
My only concern with the stand I take here is that it is inline with the stand taken by two
Indian politicians I detest - Laloo yadav and Mulayam Yadav. Ofcourse they are against
this bill because they would rather have the women confined to the house and if possible
the kitchen. And in their opinion, if 1/3rd seats are reserved for women, it means that
many seats less for the males to contest from.
While most politicians today are there to line their pockets, there must be atleast a few
who are there so that they can do something for the country. And this is what I believe
should be the criteria for standing for public office & not something like gender or caste.
all for equal rights for women, but reserving a set percentage of seats for women is in my
opinion making them more equal.
I respect the rule that reserves seats for women on buses & sometimes even go out of my
way to ensure that a standing woman gets a seat that's wrongly occupied by inconsiderate
males. But to reserve a set number of seats in the highest law making body or for that
matter any law-making body, is wrong.
We already have certain constituencies that have been reserved for certain sections of
people, which itself needs to be undone, in my opinion. For eg. to be able to stand for
elections to my municipal ward in Kerala, you need to be a woman and also need to
belong to the SC/ST. This is absurd for various reasons :
1) This negates the right of people belonging to other sections from standing for office.
For eg. if I want to stand for the municipal elections from the constituency to which I
belong to and where we pay our property taxes, I can't. I see this as an infringement
on my rights as a citizen of India.
2) Reservation (in any sphere) usually results in talent being subverted and my ward
is an apt example. The major parties could not find in their ranks women who also were
SC/ST, to put up as candidates. Finally after scrambling for 'suitable'candidates that fit
the reservation criteria, they ended up putting 4 women candidates who were in no way
fit to respresent us. Neither did they have political awareness or enough education or
even street-smartness to do things that would benefit our ward.
3) When women are taking on men in almost all domains from tech-jobs to the Army,
I don't see a reason why they need an unfair advantage in the form of reservation,
when it comes to political representation.
If at all there is concern about not enough women coming into politics, why not enforce
a rule that requires all political parties to have 1/3rd of their candidates as women ?
That way, even if some party puts up a women candidate for my constituency, I still
retain the right to contest from there - even as an independent. Also, we can leave the
decision on their worthiness to the electorate as is intended in a democracy.
My only concern with the stand I take here is that it is inline with the stand taken by two
Indian politicians I detest - Laloo yadav and Mulayam Yadav. Ofcourse they are against
this bill because they would rather have the women confined to the house and if possible
the kitchen. And in their opinion, if 1/3rd seats are reserved for women, it means that
many seats less for the males to contest from.
While most politicians today are there to line their pockets, there must be atleast a few
who are there so that they can do something for the country. And this is what I believe
should be the criteria for standing for public office & not something like gender or caste.
As if killing wasn't bad enough, they dismember the body too.
Last Sunday, the body parts of a man were found dumped in different parts of Chennai city. Someone came across a plastic bag containing his hands, while his legs were found at some
other place and the torso was found in a cardboard box between a wall and a parked car.
The head is yet to be traced.
Police officials say that there were no blood traces on the body parts which means they must have been washed before they were disposed off and that such a gory act could only be done
by a 'psycho'. You don't need to be a law enforcement officer to make out that it needs truly psychotic behaviour to chop up the body parts of a human being, wash them like you would
wash chicken legs and then dump them at various places. The victim's wife could not fathom why someone would do this to her husband. As she grieved over her husband, she cried out
about his missing head.
Since worse incidents have been reported in newspapers, we've become so inured to such
news that after a few minutes of shock, we move on. But what moved me was a photo of
the victim, his wife & their 2 young sons that was in yesterday's newspaper, in which they
are standing in front of the image of a Hindu deity & are bowing forwards in obeisance.
Even the younger kid, just 4 years old or so, is bent forwards. It was quite moving to see
the young kid who would miss out on something really important in life - the companionship
and protection of a father.
For those that committed the crime, it was just a murder (business rivalry, as per the cops),
but in the process they rendered a young woman a widow & her sons have lost their father.
And as if that wasn't enough, they cut him up into pieces and dump them at various places
in the city. Capital punishment won't be good enough for the scum that perpetrated this
gory crime. I hope they are brought to book soon.
other place and the torso was found in a cardboard box between a wall and a parked car.
The head is yet to be traced.
Police officials say that there were no blood traces on the body parts which means they must have been washed before they were disposed off and that such a gory act could only be done
by a 'psycho'. You don't need to be a law enforcement officer to make out that it needs truly psychotic behaviour to chop up the body parts of a human being, wash them like you would
wash chicken legs and then dump them at various places. The victim's wife could not fathom why someone would do this to her husband. As she grieved over her husband, she cried out
about his missing head.
Since worse incidents have been reported in newspapers, we've become so inured to such
news that after a few minutes of shock, we move on. But what moved me was a photo of
the victim, his wife & their 2 young sons that was in yesterday's newspaper, in which they
are standing in front of the image of a Hindu deity & are bowing forwards in obeisance.
Even the younger kid, just 4 years old or so, is bent forwards. It was quite moving to see
the young kid who would miss out on something really important in life - the companionship
and protection of a father.
For those that committed the crime, it was just a murder (business rivalry, as per the cops),
but in the process they rendered a young woman a widow & her sons have lost their father.
And as if that wasn't enough, they cut him up into pieces and dump them at various places
in the city. Capital punishment won't be good enough for the scum that perpetrated this
gory crime. I hope they are brought to book soon.
Monday, June 08, 2009
The sweet, yellow delicacy that's not (usually) destined for man.
I am not ready to give up inspite of a couple of failed attempts at trying to pick the smaller version of jackfruit (aanjili-chakka in local lingo) without it getting damaged during its brief descend from the tree to my hands.
After seeing 3 ripe ones just 8 feet-or-so from the ground, I decide to give it another try yesterday. And guess what, this time I am successful in netting the fruits without much
damage.
I remove the external covering and extract the edible part to a container. They look like miniature jackfruit - down to the shape and color.
I think it would be a nice idea to bring some of this to Chennai for friends who would not
be even aware that a fruit like this even exists.
I was a little worried how it would last the 13-odd hours of travel to Chennai, but when I
put it in the fridge today morning, they looked fresh.
After seeing 3 ripe ones just 8 feet-or-so from the ground, I decide to give it another try yesterday. And guess what, this time I am successful in netting the fruits without much
damage.
I remove the external covering and extract the edible part to a container. They look like miniature jackfruit - down to the shape and color.
I think it would be a nice idea to bring some of this to Chennai for friends who would not
be even aware that a fruit like this even exists.
I was a little worried how it would last the 13-odd hours of travel to Chennai, but when I
put it in the fridge today morning, they looked fresh.
Friday, June 05, 2009
The times we live in. Where everything comes packaged.
I was at the toy store looking to buy a toy Jeep for my son. After being able to identify cars
like the Alto, M800 etc, he has recently discovered the Jeep genre of automobiles and I
thought it would make a nice gift for him.
I find a Jeep with the MRF colors on it - a co-branding exercise between the Indian tyre
giant MRF and Funskool, the toy-maker. It costs around 150 bucks & comes with spare
petrol tanks. Looks cool, doesn't it ?
Purchase done, I walk around looking for anything else that might be interesting.
Remote control cars have always been a big weakness of mine, but I decide to wait
a year or so before buying another one. Reason being that the Ferrari R/C car that
I bought a few months ago has already been bashed up by my son. So, it would be
wise to buy the next one only when he understands how to use it.
As I head to the checkout counter, I see this packaged game hanging on the wall.
The name says "Pithu" and I am instantly transported to my childhood, when we were
staying at Sibsagar (Assam state) and have spent many an evening playing this game.
And back then, you did not buy this game from the store. You instead gathered the stuff required to play it, yourself. All it needed was 7 tiles and a rubber ball. It was not tough
to find 7 pieces of tiles at a time when asbestos roofing sheets were the norm. Or you
could even use flat stones. And all kids had atleast one rubber ball.
My memory is kind of faint when it comes to the rules of the game. I do remember that
you piled up the tiles and then from a distance had to hit the pile with the ball. It used to
be great fun then, though that opinion was not shared by my Dad, who disapproved of
sports in general and such pedestrian games specifically.
So, while playing the game on the road in front of our home, we would keep an eye on
the far-end of the road for my Dad's Jeep as he returned from work in the evening.
And as soon as we saw it approaching, we would leave the game midway & rush home.
Today some entrepreneur got the idea that he could put together 7 pieces of plastic and
a ball in a packet and sell it as a toy. And I am sure many a parent would get this for their
kids, especially those like me who have played this game in their childhood.
like the Alto, M800 etc, he has recently discovered the Jeep genre of automobiles and I
thought it would make a nice gift for him.
I find a Jeep with the MRF colors on it - a co-branding exercise between the Indian tyre
giant MRF and Funskool, the toy-maker. It costs around 150 bucks & comes with spare
petrol tanks. Looks cool, doesn't it ?
Purchase done, I walk around looking for anything else that might be interesting.
Remote control cars have always been a big weakness of mine, but I decide to wait
a year or so before buying another one. Reason being that the Ferrari R/C car that
I bought a few months ago has already been bashed up by my son. So, it would be
wise to buy the next one only when he understands how to use it.
As I head to the checkout counter, I see this packaged game hanging on the wall.
The name says "Pithu" and I am instantly transported to my childhood, when we were
staying at Sibsagar (Assam state) and have spent many an evening playing this game.
And back then, you did not buy this game from the store. You instead gathered the stuff required to play it, yourself. All it needed was 7 tiles and a rubber ball. It was not tough
to find 7 pieces of tiles at a time when asbestos roofing sheets were the norm. Or you
could even use flat stones. And all kids had atleast one rubber ball.
My memory is kind of faint when it comes to the rules of the game. I do remember that
you piled up the tiles and then from a distance had to hit the pile with the ball. It used to
be great fun then, though that opinion was not shared by my Dad, who disapproved of
sports in general and such pedestrian games specifically.
So, while playing the game on the road in front of our home, we would keep an eye on
the far-end of the road for my Dad's Jeep as he returned from work in the evening.
And as soon as we saw it approaching, we would leave the game midway & rush home.
Today some entrepreneur got the idea that he could put together 7 pieces of plastic and
a ball in a packet and sell it as a toy. And I am sure many a parent would get this for their
kids, especially those like me who have played this game in their childhood.
Thursday, June 04, 2009
This is where my car's footwear starts its humble journey from.
Saturday 30/05/09 3:30PM :
We are at a place called Changanacherry (ok, don't bother pronouncing it), which is like
30 kms from my home in Kerala, on a business/pleasure/personal trip. Business for my
wife, who has some work at her organisation's local office there. Pleasure for me, as I get
to drive the car. And personal, since we also would be dropping in at the home of her aunt
who lives nearby.
This place is only some 10kms away from Kottayam, which can be called rubber country,
given the abundant rubber plantations. Also, the terrain is not plain like back home, but
kinda uneven and hilly. I park the car on an incline and against my normal practice of not
using the parking brake, apply the brakes, just in case.
While my wife goes to her office to do her work, me & my son evaluate our options of how
to spend the next hour or more that would be required for my wife to finish her task. We
spend some time sitting in the car listening to music, but like any other kid, after some
time my son is restless. I know that I can't keep him in the car for long.
I reckon it would be nice to explore the neighborhood & decide to go for a short walk with
my son. Ofcourse after taking a few steps, my son decides it is enough exercise for the day
for him and wants me to carry him.
But it does not help things that the climb is steep and that he is getting heavier by the day.
Not to mention the elbow pain on my right hand. I chide myself for not bringing along his
pram. Anyway, I walk along with my son in my arms and all along the sides of the road,
we can see splattered anjili-chakkas (the small variant of the jackfruit that I mentioned
about in a previous post) like the one in the pic below. The white seeds & the edible yellow
flesh can be seen.
We reach a small plantation of rubber trees. It never ceases to amaze me how the sap of
this very normal-looking tree transforms itself into such a huge variety of things that we
use in our daily life. Most importantly, this is what transforms into the tyres of our cars.
A view of the plantation :
A picture of the rubber tree :
A close-up of the trunk of the tree with a container tied around it to collect the sap.
The container is the shell of a coconut - indigenous isn't it ?
In this pic, the slanting serrations made on the trunk of the tree can be seen. Sort of like
making a cut on the tree & bleeding it, resulting in the sap flowing down into the container.
On a daily basis, they will collect the sap from all the containers in the plantation and then
pour it into trays to make rubber sheets, which are then sold. One thing I found odd was
that the containers were in positioned wrongly - sort of upturned, which means they will
not collect the sap. When my wife returns, I ask her (she's an Agriculture postgraduate)
why this was so & she said it's because monsoons have started and they wouldn't want
rainwater to collect in the containers.
Tyres are considered one of the main components of a car, especially in racing. And it
was good to know the point of origin of the Michelins & Yokohomas that guys crave for.
Each day is a relevation and there is so much around us to observe and learn. All that is
We are at a place called Changanacherry (ok, don't bother pronouncing it), which is like
30 kms from my home in Kerala, on a business/pleasure/personal trip. Business for my
wife, who has some work at her organisation's local office there. Pleasure for me, as I get
to drive the car. And personal, since we also would be dropping in at the home of her aunt
who lives nearby.
This place is only some 10kms away from Kottayam, which can be called rubber country,
given the abundant rubber plantations. Also, the terrain is not plain like back home, but
kinda uneven and hilly. I park the car on an incline and against my normal practice of not
using the parking brake, apply the brakes, just in case.
While my wife goes to her office to do her work, me & my son evaluate our options of how
to spend the next hour or more that would be required for my wife to finish her task. We
spend some time sitting in the car listening to music, but like any other kid, after some
time my son is restless. I know that I can't keep him in the car for long.
I reckon it would be nice to explore the neighborhood & decide to go for a short walk with
my son. Ofcourse after taking a few steps, my son decides it is enough exercise for the day
for him and wants me to carry him.
But it does not help things that the climb is steep and that he is getting heavier by the day.
Not to mention the elbow pain on my right hand. I chide myself for not bringing along his
pram. Anyway, I walk along with my son in my arms and all along the sides of the road,
we can see splattered anjili-chakkas (the small variant of the jackfruit that I mentioned
about in a previous post) like the one in the pic below. The white seeds & the edible yellow
flesh can be seen.
We reach a small plantation of rubber trees. It never ceases to amaze me how the sap of
this very normal-looking tree transforms itself into such a huge variety of things that we
use in our daily life. Most importantly, this is what transforms into the tyres of our cars.
A view of the plantation :
A picture of the rubber tree :
A close-up of the trunk of the tree with a container tied around it to collect the sap.
The container is the shell of a coconut - indigenous isn't it ?
In this pic, the slanting serrations made on the trunk of the tree can be seen. Sort of like
making a cut on the tree & bleeding it, resulting in the sap flowing down into the container.
On a daily basis, they will collect the sap from all the containers in the plantation and then
pour it into trays to make rubber sheets, which are then sold. One thing I found odd was
that the containers were in positioned wrongly - sort of upturned, which means they will
not collect the sap. When my wife returns, I ask her (she's an Agriculture postgraduate)
why this was so & she said it's because monsoons have started and they wouldn't want
rainwater to collect in the containers.
Tyres are considered one of the main components of a car, especially in racing. And it
was good to know the point of origin of the Michelins & Yokohomas that guys crave for.
Each day is a relevation and there is so much around us to observe and learn. All that is
needed is for us to take some time to stop and observe nature.
Tuesday, June 02, 2009
Such a criminal waste of resource.
It is a well-known fact that India produces much less electricity than what is needed.
In short, demand outstrips supply by a big margin. This means that there are many
places in India which are yet to get electricity.
Even in cities, the consumption is increasing rapidly and production is not able to keep
pace. While increasing production requires huge investment, what is easier is to avoid
wastage of the same. Just like a penny earned is a penny saved, every unit of electricity
saved is a unit produced.
Like with any other resource, I am very careful when using electricity. While it is tough
to control wastage in our home at Kerala, because it needs an attitudinal change in my
parent's approach, I manage to do a neat job at my home in Chennai. And it was not that
tough to inculcate the discipline in my wife too and she too avoids wastage. When I am
alone at Chennai, at any given point of time, there won't be lights burning in more than
one room.
Not only is this inline with my personal principle of avoiding resource wastage, especially
non-replenishable ones, it also helps one save money on their electricity bill. My normal
bi-monthly bill is around 50bucks (during peak summer it comes to like 200 or so, when
I use the airconditioner at night).
Ofcourse, I am not in Chennai during the weekends and on weekdays also I spend just
about 8-9 hours at home. But still this low figure is possible only due to prudent usage.
Why have the tubelight switched on in the living room, when I'm in my bedroom reading
a book ?
Electricity boards in Kerala and Tamilnadu exhort consumers to avoid wastage of precious
electricity and to switch off any light or fan that is not required. Nice advice, but I would
prefer they lead by example instead of preaching. The following picture was taken by me
on my phone-cam last Saturday morning from the train. The place is near Chengannur
railway station.
Check out the circle that I added to the pic. It is the streetlight, which is burning away to
glory at around 9:30AM in the morning, in broad daylight. Before you think that this is
something that happens only in Kerala, I have seen whole city roads illuminated by street
lights at 10AM in the morning at Chennai. Imagine the power being wasted, which could
instead have been put to better use in a situation where it was needed.
In short, demand outstrips supply by a big margin. This means that there are many
places in India which are yet to get electricity.
Even in cities, the consumption is increasing rapidly and production is not able to keep
pace. While increasing production requires huge investment, what is easier is to avoid
wastage of the same. Just like a penny earned is a penny saved, every unit of electricity
saved is a unit produced.
Like with any other resource, I am very careful when using electricity. While it is tough
to control wastage in our home at Kerala, because it needs an attitudinal change in my
parent's approach, I manage to do a neat job at my home in Chennai. And it was not that
tough to inculcate the discipline in my wife too and she too avoids wastage. When I am
alone at Chennai, at any given point of time, there won't be lights burning in more than
one room.
Not only is this inline with my personal principle of avoiding resource wastage, especially
non-replenishable ones, it also helps one save money on their electricity bill. My normal
bi-monthly bill is around 50bucks (during peak summer it comes to like 200 or so, when
I use the airconditioner at night).
Ofcourse, I am not in Chennai during the weekends and on weekdays also I spend just
about 8-9 hours at home. But still this low figure is possible only due to prudent usage.
Why have the tubelight switched on in the living room, when I'm in my bedroom reading
a book ?
Electricity boards in Kerala and Tamilnadu exhort consumers to avoid wastage of precious
electricity and to switch off any light or fan that is not required. Nice advice, but I would
prefer they lead by example instead of preaching. The following picture was taken by me
on my phone-cam last Saturday morning from the train. The place is near Chengannur
railway station.
Check out the circle that I added to the pic. It is the streetlight, which is burning away to
glory at around 9:30AM in the morning, in broad daylight. Before you think that this is
something that happens only in Kerala, I have seen whole city roads illuminated by street
lights at 10AM in the morning at Chennai. Imagine the power being wasted, which could
instead have been put to better use in a situation where it was needed.
Searching for a piece of land to call your own.
While my investment basket is pretty varied, inline with the old saying "Don't keep all
your eggs in one basket", I have never ever invested in real-estate. Not because I did
not want to, but because I could never ever locate the right plot or flat, inspite of some
serious searching.
Ofcourse while I saw all my colleagues/friends buying their dream home, I gave up my
search for a piece of land in Chennai, since I have overtime decided that I am not going
to spend many more years here. If so, why invest in land here ? And thanks to my Dad,
I have a flat in Chennai and thus don't have to worry about a roof over my head, till the
time I am here.
However, my wife strongly believes that we should have some investment in land and
since I saw that she has a valid point, I decided to look at some options back home in
Kerala. Which is actually kind of illogical because we already have 3 properties there
and don't even get the time to maintain them. So, where will I make time for the new
one that we plan to buy ?
But then when your wife tells you something, how can you refuse ? So, off we go plot
hunting. First thing I do is meet my childhood friend San, who wears many hats, one
of which is that of a real-estate agent/broker. Tell him that I don't need anything too
pricey - just within 0.2 - 0.3 million rupees. I don't care if it is away from the main road,
but I need proper access to it and it should not get flooded during monsoons.
We decide to see a place he knows is for sale and plan it for last Sunday afternoon. But
that is my wife and son's siesta time and she suggests we go around 4PM, which is what
we finally do. Tuck in our son into his pram and the 4 of us walk around the neighborhood
to the plot for sale. It is some 400 metres from my home and is off the main road.
The approach road is just about wide enough for one car to pass and is not a tarred road -
just a mud road. My son in his pram on the road in front of the plot.
We meet the lady of the house, who is tending to some plants in the yard. Also with her
are her kids - 3 well-behaved and pretty girls in the age-range of 13 - 19 years. She is a
widow and is working as a hostel warden in AndhraPradesh. So she wants to sell this off
and buy something there with the money she gets for this. My friend asks her what price
she is expecting and she says 0.25 million rupees, which is within our budget.
She confirms that all papers are in order, with all taxes paid. Infact this area comes under
the local panchayat and taxes are really low, when compared to the taxes we pay for our
home which falls under the local municipality
The plot totals 16 cents (100cents = 1 acre) of which 3 cents is elevated and on which they
have built their small home. The remaining 13 cents are low-lying. Actually, the plot is part
of a big parcel of field (low-lying), of which they bought a small piece and then elevated 3
cents of it to build their home.
In the pic below, you can see a far-off view of the land and if you look closely, you can see
their small home, which is kind of camouflaged by trees and bamboo plants on all sides.
In this pic, you can see the low lying part of the plot, with the small elevated way to the
home from the untarred road on the right, and the house itself behind the bamboo trees.
We walk around the home. If someone is buying the property, the house would really
have to go. It is not in a good state - which is understandable given the absence of the
man of the house. And ofcourse the thicket around the house needs to be pruned - it
looks too wild.
I ask my friend about her husband. He said that the guy was running a small vegetable
vending business of his own and they were one happy family, till the day misfortune
struck the family. He had climbed a tree on the plot to cut some branches that were
too close to the electric wire. Somehow he lost his grip and fell on the electric line and
got electrocuted.
Such a tragedy to befell a family. It must be tough for her to manage the household and
the education of the 3 kids after the breadwinner was gone. The sadness can still be seen
on her face and in the way she talks. Losing a partner is surely a sad thing.
We say our goodbyes and walk back home. I am no expert when it comes to real-estate,
but it looks like a good deal to me. The only worry is how the place will handle the heavy
Kerala monsoons. With the monsoon already started, I would like to check the place out
in a week or so and then proceed further.
Till then there would be more plots to see in the coming weekends.
your eggs in one basket", I have never ever invested in real-estate. Not because I did
not want to, but because I could never ever locate the right plot or flat, inspite of some
serious searching.
Ofcourse while I saw all my colleagues/friends buying their dream home, I gave up my
search for a piece of land in Chennai, since I have overtime decided that I am not going
to spend many more years here. If so, why invest in land here ? And thanks to my Dad,
I have a flat in Chennai and thus don't have to worry about a roof over my head, till the
time I am here.
However, my wife strongly believes that we should have some investment in land and
since I saw that she has a valid point, I decided to look at some options back home in
Kerala. Which is actually kind of illogical because we already have 3 properties there
and don't even get the time to maintain them. So, where will I make time for the new
one that we plan to buy ?
But then when your wife tells you something, how can you refuse ? So, off we go plot
hunting. First thing I do is meet my childhood friend San, who wears many hats, one
of which is that of a real-estate agent/broker. Tell him that I don't need anything too
pricey - just within 0.2 - 0.3 million rupees. I don't care if it is away from the main road,
but I need proper access to it and it should not get flooded during monsoons.
We decide to see a place he knows is for sale and plan it for last Sunday afternoon. But
that is my wife and son's siesta time and she suggests we go around 4PM, which is what
we finally do. Tuck in our son into his pram and the 4 of us walk around the neighborhood
to the plot for sale. It is some 400 metres from my home and is off the main road.
The approach road is just about wide enough for one car to pass and is not a tarred road -
just a mud road. My son in his pram on the road in front of the plot.
We meet the lady of the house, who is tending to some plants in the yard. Also with her
are her kids - 3 well-behaved and pretty girls in the age-range of 13 - 19 years. She is a
widow and is working as a hostel warden in AndhraPradesh. So she wants to sell this off
and buy something there with the money she gets for this. My friend asks her what price
she is expecting and she says 0.25 million rupees, which is within our budget.
She confirms that all papers are in order, with all taxes paid. Infact this area comes under
the local panchayat and taxes are really low, when compared to the taxes we pay for our
home which falls under the local municipality
The plot totals 16 cents (100cents = 1 acre) of which 3 cents is elevated and on which they
have built their small home. The remaining 13 cents are low-lying. Actually, the plot is part
of a big parcel of field (low-lying), of which they bought a small piece and then elevated 3
cents of it to build their home.
In the pic below, you can see a far-off view of the land and if you look closely, you can see
their small home, which is kind of camouflaged by trees and bamboo plants on all sides.
In this pic, you can see the low lying part of the plot, with the small elevated way to the
home from the untarred road on the right, and the house itself behind the bamboo trees.
We walk around the home. If someone is buying the property, the house would really
have to go. It is not in a good state - which is understandable given the absence of the
man of the house. And ofcourse the thicket around the house needs to be pruned - it
looks too wild.
I ask my friend about her husband. He said that the guy was running a small vegetable
vending business of his own and they were one happy family, till the day misfortune
struck the family. He had climbed a tree on the plot to cut some branches that were
too close to the electric wire. Somehow he lost his grip and fell on the electric line and
got electrocuted.
Such a tragedy to befell a family. It must be tough for her to manage the household and
the education of the 3 kids after the breadwinner was gone. The sadness can still be seen
on her face and in the way she talks. Losing a partner is surely a sad thing.
We say our goodbyes and walk back home. I am no expert when it comes to real-estate,
but it looks like a good deal to me. The only worry is how the place will handle the heavy
Kerala monsoons. With the monsoon already started, I would like to check the place out
in a week or so and then proceed further.
Till then there would be more plots to see in the coming weekends.
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