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A visit to Cholamandalam Arts Village

As a connoisseur of many arts I as a human being have to dabble with events and places that are up to my understanding. This is how a hm…, west of India, land may perceive. India is a land of variety in all fields. Somehow we do not have enough marketing or publicizing of the abundance of this land. Earlier in my Hyderabad hiatus I’d mentioned the exhibition of artist from Bengal, Asit Kumar Haldar . There was more to the this land of art was shown to me in this place . The Cholamandalam Arts Village. The place hidden away in the city of Chennai and far from the chaos of it. MTC bus 588 goes this way. It is situated at a long walk ,for the unused legs,from ,VGP bus stop. There I saw the board of entrance. A tea stall decorates its view from the road.

The actual entrance is from an inside road. There was a fancy big house with trees and garden. That was the house of arts village. There was a ticket for entrance. Some ten rupees. And inside is collection o paintings drawings and modern art and sculpture. There are some creative stone art surrounding the building. After musing over the paintings and art in its form, from a student’s view ,then a common man’s view, then a philosophical critic’s view and finally a moral and ethical view one gets tired. Tired of standing a lot. Tired of standing in the bus, standing and looking at the art. The thought process , the necessity of a change for relaxation was the one which I wanted to satiate by visiting the place.

Now I needed rest in rest, rest for the rest. Fixing on this I sat on the chairs that were arranged for some meeting to be held. This was the inauguration of art exhibition in the exhibition hall. After relaxing a bit my eyes were looking around,while my legs were bitten by mosquitoes which wanted its evening blood. The hands swayed and hit some of those but missing most of them The money plant on the tree in the front looked artistically wild. Then view shifted upon a piece of black rock smoothened and kept in an odd place and looked out of place. On a closer watch it turned out to be an art from a German artist. And then I noticed that there were many more things kept outside the building, there was a path to go around the building. This led to many simple and complicated sculpture .The simplest was a log at a corner near a on room building. I had to search out the information plate to identify it as art. Like life of an artist, each art is a journey and to each art there is a journey. There is art for the busy, the calm, the quiet, the wild, the peaceful, the divine and the chaotic.

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Posted by on February 6, 2015 in Uncategorized

 

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What is missing in this picture in Chennai

Saw this different drawing on a wall Near Gandhi Nagar, Adyar

There are more pictures and comments available

For more photos:

http://tripstapix.com/travel/instagram/wakeupmadras

For more tweets:

https://twitter.com/hashtag/wakeupmadras?src=hash

There is a sad and self denigrating message in these pictures. It asks one to proclaim oneself as an animal for such a natural call of action such as pissing. What is missing is with the photos the direction to nearest public toilet should have been mentioned. Unfortunately, the message looks rude without that information. To protest against this , it will not be surprising, if someone pissed on the drawing itself. I have to cite Businessman movie (Telugu) and its punch dialogue.

A grand city, such as Chennai, has large number of people flow in and out it. The visitors have no time to take care of the city. They have more pressing matters for which they are here. The information available for visitors who stay for short duration is missing in most cases. A visitor (not a tourist) needs immediate and fast solutions for food, water, toilet and his business. Remember, he is not staying forever and has no concern for the place. There is no guarantee that he will not take all his time to piss and wet the whole of Chennai. A google search does give a map of public toilets in Chennai.

I had heard a story from Mumbai. People who are “paan” chewers have to spit somewhere or the other. Most common place was some corner places (Just like one finds it attractive for urinating). This paan spitting had to be discouraged, and authorities came up with some idea. It was to introduce the most revered god in Mumbai. The Lord Ganesa in lift. The space for spitting , now occupied, by the Lord is a divine place. But how can a common man spit paan with freedom. Yes, there was an immediate harmless solution. The red paan spits landed just 1 inch away from Ganesa’s idol. Now Ganesa is safe, the paan chewer also is satisfied. I do not know how far the story is true. Nevertheless, there is a message that has practical application.

I see that only similar reactions and changes are possible with the #WakeupMadras drawing fellows.

You may be interested in related news of missing toilets in Chennai published in 2012. . For more on research and survey of public toilets visit Transparent Chennai. For more from this blog on similar lines click here.

 
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Posted by on January 2, 2015 in Uncategorized

 

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Congrats Chennai ! on receving record rainfall in 24 hours

Chennai is notorious for its pitiless heat and dust. It is said that there are two seasons in Chennai, hot season and very hot season. There is no doubt  a newcomer to this city would suffer and dislike it before his tenth step on this land.  However, Chennai has many to offer. Opportunities galore in almost all fields.

With increasing cost of rentals and land pushing up the prices of all other commodities, I had a doubt whether this city is sustainable. The good news is that , this has been a trend in Chennai; where land value force the general price rise.With an unforgiving climate, water management issues, congested dwellings, and heavy burden on the limited savings, whatever one earns in Chennai is spent in Chennai. The only thing you can carry out is the dust filled in your lungs, headache and bad health. With that much said, it may sound ridiculous that some people analyse the sustainability of Chennai. Could it be that I am, the only one ,thinking possibly everything diabolic about Chennai. This may be reflected in my other posts as well. I may not regret, for I have enough reasons. Why Chennai receives less rain is answered here. Why people hate rain in Chennai is partially explained below.

But suddenly as the end is near for the year, I saw that there was rain. I experienced it. It is cold, the breeze is cool and refreshing. I am not sweating. The sweltering heat of the past fades into memories best left forgotten. It was raining in Chennai. Then Chennai turns it’s another devilish face. Muddy waters, no place to walk other than the murky water that carries the poison accumulated over the sultry summer. One dares not to walk on the road. The traffic is more crazy. Bike riders excuse others battling the rain without protection, at the same time carry themselves with their imperviousness to the wetness, and splash the waters wherever possible. The zigzag drive would harass a decent car driver, who nevertheless goes without a stop, and continues the trend of wetting the pedestrians, without regret, or empathy. A fortunate tree-hugger with a cycle to commute can escape wading through the water, this spoils the hopes of Dettol company. The cyclist has then to evade the  trumpeting horns of other motorists and let a motorcycle overtaking from one’s left.  All this and more Chennai has to offer. The road to office is a like a decathlon. Cycling, wading, swearing, singing, getting wet, crossing the road, not coughing or sneezing at the crucial junction when your turn to drive comes and then a final run get splashed in water, curse the city again, harass the security, and the riders of the night shift coming out of the cocoon who block one’s way. Find a parking spot, walk and punch and let the security have a cursory glance at contents of the bag, as if it is a fad. Play the rugby, push the people, knock some down, to get to the lift, command someone to press the button, arrive royally, wet and dirty , at the office, and write this all up on net.

This sequence of events are sponsored by the Chennai rain. And I wish Chennai a happy new year, and congrats for receiving the record maximum rainfall in 24 hours at this end of the year. Though it is not upto the mark to make up for the total average rainfall in the city this year.

 
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Posted by on December 31, 2014 in Uncategorized

 

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Thoughts on Un-civilisation through points by Shantha Sheela Nair on AIR on sanitation

Today morning , as usual , I was cycling to office. There was a  junction at which a Renault Duster , a massive fuel guzzler and quite huge vehicle stopped on its lane to let a lady cross the road. from opposite to where I was waiting. I found the time good enough for my cycle to cross. But some bikers were not ready to wait. They just whizzed past even before the lady had crossed. The generosity of the big vehicle was dwarfed by the uncouth attitude of the road-mates (People who share the road).

This brought about the thoughts on yesterday’s program on All India Radio (AIR) Chennai which broadcasted Shantha Sheela Nair talk on sanitation.  It was said that there was need of toilets. People sometimes build toilets also. But they do not use it for they have to clean it in case land-fill is used up. The amount of care extended for the enhancement of the outward appearance is not given to explain and educate in detail the working of a toilet. What more, the sanitation campaigns by India Govt. target toilet for woman, news also say that women refuses to get married to toilet-less household. But Shantha Sheela Nair said that the majority of non-users of toilet are men, that too in Tamil Nadu. Such a shame. Education has no bearing on these basic things. Films  and politics, money and power, culture and language have not propagated the message of sanitation. Madam quotes that toilet is not a new phenomenon. From Indus valley onward there are ancient remnants of toilets found everywhere. Wherever civilisation had thrived remains of toilets were discovered.  Why people who build toilets do not use it is a mystery. Also, open defecation contaminates the ground water quality and increases the cost to purify it.  It is clear from these statement that there are uncivilised  cultures existing.

Further proof for the same came when we notice that people rush into MRTS trains when actually there are seats for many. No need to push, there is enough time to get in. Honking behind every vehicle and overtaking a cycle from left side are biggest indicators of un-civilisation.

Leave Kindness, politeness, education, GDP etc into improved human level of lifestyle. Basic, the very basic block of existence to be considerate to the surroundings we are in is in bad light.  I was sitting near a person in office. I could know how many milk packets she had in home, what is cooking for dinner and what her children are not eating that day. The way people talk such private things could be kept to themselves. Why to shout out loud and let others know. Even if the content does not reveal any potential threat such behaviour is clearly a sign of un-civilisation.

 
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Posted by on November 20, 2014 in Uncategorized

 

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Chennai – Alleppey The original Chennai Express

For a little history please refer wikipedia_page.

Chennai Alleppey is home to people who frequently travel to mid – Kerala till Alleppey (Alappuyha). Please click on the train numbers for their schedules.

16041 Chennai to Alleppey/16042 Alleppey to Chennai. These were the train numbers of its glorious past. As an express train it was perfect for a worker in Ernakulam to catch the train at South (Ernakulam Jn) railway station at 1720 and arrive at Chennai Central (MAS) at 0600. (Actual arrival time should be read as arrival at basin bridge.)

For the uninitiated, Basin Bridge Junction (BBQ, we call it Barbeque- in future) is a major junction for all trains to and fro MAS. The halt for most trains at BBQ is unannounced and random. This is because of signalling to and fro the Central station. Beyond BBQ towards MAS there is a bridge, hence the name basin bridge. The speed is limited for all trains passing over this bridge. Subject to availability of vacant platforms and speed limited trains coming out the arrival time at Central is almost always more than what is on paper.

Now it has been rechristened / re enrolled / renumbered (train number coding system) as superfast at 22639/22640. The halts for express and superfast are same. The time on paper differ at most by -10 minutes at MAS. But due to BBQ the home-train ( newly coined term ) will follow its routine. Thus by a simple paper work of renumbering, renaming and very minor time schedule change, the Indian Railways is able to charge the (same) passengers the fee for superfast instead of (previous) express.

Charges for The Superfast 22640 ERS-MAS : 400 (Since July)
Charges for The Express 16042 ERS-MAS : 355 (Before July)

Getting INR 50 per head for the same train, same time, same person is one way to increase the railways income. This is example of one train. What about others?

Decoding the train number using IRFCA

For 16041/16042

1 = long distance

6 = SR

0 = Chennai (60 for chennai division)

4 = ? / train id (sub divisions – internal)

1/2 = train id up/dn

For 22639/22640

2 = 2 is also for long-distance trains; it is to be used when train numbers starting with 1 are exhausted in any series.
2 = superfast

6 = SR

3 = Thiruvananthapuram division / 4 = unknown?

9/0 = train id up/dn

From the numbers 1 thing to be understood is The new superfasts are home to Thiruvananthapuram division which will take care of it. Compare this with 16041/2 maintained by Chennai division.

 
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Posted by on August 7, 2014 in Uncategorized

 

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Tada Trekking Time.

An additional day of cool off time, paved way for the day to think on an expedition. With many blogs and websites that help to see the unseen we decided on a trip to Ubbalamadugu waterfalls. The nearest waterfall that one can get to from Chennai. It needs some patience to climb the rocky paths to reach it. And the falls, itself looks like a slightly huge shower,under which you can stand and not get washed away.  You can experience, feel and drink from the falls, due to its moderate force and small size.

We were a bunch of lazy guys trying to cool off on a rather unassuming day. So we got on a 0730 train from Chennai Central Suburban station (MMC) towards Sullurpeta (SPE). Tada railway station was almost 2 hours away. We could sleep, talk, and listen to music, and look around in the typical bachelor style of operations and movements.

Tada marks the border of Andhra Pradesh (2014) and Tamil Nadu state borders. But it has no grand welcome or exit messages. on reaching Tada, we had our breakfast and then went to the mayhem outside, that was the least welcoming for a tourist, in the form of share autos and other autos. The auto drivers were all enthusiastic, full of energy and ready to bargain. We started asking about the charges for to and fro the waterfalls (Forest Gate). Their estimates were all a solid INR 800 plus. Some drivers asked whether we wanted to go to toddy shop. We had a good laugh over it. And found a better way to proceed. We decided to go to the nearby bus stop and get ourselves as far as the public buses would go. We got to Tada bus stop,near Tada market, from there we took bus to Varadiah Palem. At Varadiah Palem, it was learned that there was no us to the place we wanted to go. So we have to resort to some auto. Without expertise of Telugu speakers in the group of 5,  we do not know how we would have bargained. But the bargain was not as expected. The auto driver was contumacious, and we had to stick to what price he had put, at INR 450 for to and fro. So we proceeded, the auto-driver suggested to buy and eat or store whatever required from Varadiah Palem, nothing would be available at the forest, the canteen which was there is also closed.

At the Forest gate, there was a shed under which some guards in khaki uniform rested. On seeing the auto , they came up. Some officials, were noticed, to be sitting with some papers under the shed. The guards who came up asked us about the bags, and requested to open it up. They check whether we are hiding liquor. Camera charges are to be paid at INR 50 per camera. Our auto driver paid for our entry and for the auto-rickshaw parking, after a shaky rocky ride. Then we moved on to the parking spot. From where, we have start on our foot. We saved the auto-drivers phone number and the auto number. We told him our estimate of return. He had put up his time to return as 1400. We had reached there after 1100.

We met some steps built over a stream. We crossed it and started with photo sessions. The water in the stream was cool. And then the feet that are unused to walking have to start walking, over the stream, rocky trail. And the trail become more rocky. Some nice view of mountain tops. And then we moved on, it was the end of winter on March 2. The climate was pleasant and cool. It was not dusty and we could listen to some birds singing out.  Then we met another stream, where flow was more. We had emptied our bottles into sweat, bottles were filled at the running portion of the small river. Then we noticed that there were some empty discarded plastic bottles and some socks in the water. The rocks in the stream were like large pebbles, there were still some small ones that one could pick up as a souvenir.

We moved on, there was nothing to do about the waste in the forest, for we are also new here, but determined not to spoil it any further than it already is. Moving on, we started seeing some dogs and then a Siva temple. Beyond which we met another stream, a much small one, with two steps we could cross it. Near the stream some guys were having liquor, the smell was on the air. It was uninviting.

There were rocks to be trodden yonder, we were totally immersed in rocks and boulders. The size started increases, jumping over some and watching over the rocks all the time, since some which were easily step-able  were shit on by some organism of the wild, but our better guess were the dogs. Some guys were happily returning, we asked them about the onward journey for us, how far to the waterfalls. All of them of our age range were totally happy and energetic about tellings the routes and how the rocks got bigger. Some guys had picked up sticks to help themselves to climb over. We noticed that all the people had turned out in gangs, so that help was always around, there were also girls who went on trek, though a minority by number. The rocks mixed with streams. Sometimes, it was easy to walk on the stream below and get wet up to knees than to climb up a difficult stone.

The rocks became bigger, it was sometimes hard to find the easiest path, and then I relied on some extended hands of friends who could pull me up, tell me where to place the foot and climb and tread on. I met the read on white background solid lines on a big rock, that read danger area. Of course, the footwear were proving to be a head-ache, it helped over soil were we could make out there were shards of glasses. But then placing the foot on stone to climb up was easier with the leverage of foot-fingers than a plain surface provided by the footwear. Often, I had to take the footwear in hand to win over a challenging stone. I wanted to discard the footwear, while a friend also felt the same. We wanted to put out the danger in “Danger area” and we declared the place as “Chappal(footwear) area”.  The danger area, we assumed were going to be even tougher, as mentioned by returning trekkers. There was two huge massive stones and in between there were a few stones. From top of the landing stone, we had to step on the small area were the stones were actually stuck by the gap between the two large boulders. The small stepping stones were stuck there due to sheer size of the boulders on the sides. And to add thrill to all this we had to have a small jump from landing rock to the stepping zone. With abyss at the bottom giving some kind of creepy  feeling, with the smaller pieces of stones giving way to our weight on them and falling onto this depth, it was really giving a dangerous outlook on the purview. Two odd sticks could possibly lead us to the path above the danger area. This had to be done with extreme care. Especially with my weight to be pulled up, I had help with friends holding the sticks at the bottom and friends above who told me exactly where to put my step on, besides I had my hand ready to be pulled up just in case.

We met some monkeys, some humans filled with liquor, a danger pool area and a path further up. The slopes were steep. I would view only the immediately available rocks and tree trunks to hold on to. I would not look down, or look up. When some loose pieces of rocks were on the way,I pushed one away in frustration and irritation and the enthusiasm to move on. Little did I realise that it could have hit people coming up from bottom and the slope was steep enough to make them loose their holds and get injured by yet unforeseen loose piece of stone coming in their direction. I regretted for having pushed the stone down, while I heard a group of 3-4 guys trekking up. I assumed patience to be my best comrade and moved upwards.

Getting lost in the forest was easy when two of us were slow to catch up with the fit guys of the team of five. We lost way and ended up at a dead end, where there was some resting place like that of a cave. The cave had a small way inward, very small, not good enough for a human to crawl into. We decided that they had not gone this way. Later realising that there was another path to the left of the route. We resumed trekking and then went left. Further, we could easily walk on a comparatively flat and one man’s walking way. The track gradually slopped down and then there was no gradient. There were easy steps on the rocks to walk down instead of sitting and crawling down. This had made the trousers very ugly and the effort seem worth displaying with all the dirt on the clothes. The trek could have been easier without the backpack with water and foods that I was carrying, but it could have turned out terrible afterwards, with no bottle to quench the thirst. I rested myself on the rocks and could see people taking the waterfall for a shower. People took turns to stand under the falls and take pictures. We took lot of photos and with help of many co-trekking group we could get some frames with all of us in it. Our bottles were once again filled with natural water. This water was tasting better, in some opinion. Nevertheless, it was water that was urgently needed.

After great deal of getting wet, taking photos, shouting and so on, we decided to visit the danger pool, way back. The climb down was faster and easier, with sliding down and small jumps we could easily get down. The loose pieces of stones were treaded on with some empathy towards the trekkers in oppostite direction. We precariously moved on such stuff that could slide and cause problem to other climbers. After crossing the Chappal area we turned right to reach the danger pool. It was a brilliant view with the green pool, reddish cliffs above and huge rocks. The crystal like pebbles in the pool were very attractive. Some guys stayed at the rocks and drank, some ate, some smoked. Some monkey gangs came up to collect leftover and spilled food items. Some guys were in the pool, enjoying the cool water. Some stayed at the halfway mark that demarcated the depth difference, beyond which the depth was more than neck-deep, say 6 ft(182 cm). Proficient swimmers went beyond the mark and met a small waterfall at the end of it. Some newbies to swimming learned swimming in the first half, for the first time in the natural setting. Some were diving from the plank at the half mark and enjoy the freshness of the whole place. After a considerable duration of fish-life, there was drying up , further photo sessions and then return journey.

During return at about 1530, we noticed more people were hanging out and moving around. We were not feeling hungry, we do not know why. We also found an alternate path midway and entered the Siva temple side without crossing the small stream. This path was very easy to walk on except for lot of shit. Many dogs were present this time and some ladies were cleaning up and burning up the litter. We walked on with somebody sharing some story and keep up the momentum. Beyond the other stream, the only noise that followed us was the song of some bird. One of us easily caught up with the bird and whistled in a mocking manner.

We got to the parking area and reached Varadiah Palem , without any events. Mostly, we were silent and happy at having done something different and enjoyable, natural and so mentally freeing expedition. At Varadiah Palem we paid the driver INR 500. Then, he suddenly extended help to catch a sullurpeta bus that was leaving the stand. We successfully caught the bus at next stop and got on. We saw the Kalki oneness temple on the way and then to Tada Bus stop. There the Tada Market was active, and we helped ourselves with tender coconut water and some bajjis (fried snack). We had a train from Tada R.S after 1800, the ticket seller was not willing to sell it too early, we waited for him to turn to his capricious side that was favourable which not coming up. We were hanging out and then went for eating our lunch. After giving the ticket seller enough time to contemplate on his contumacious non-officious habits, we were back in queue, got our tickets and waited in platform 2. Some more photo-sessions happened. And the train (MRTS) came. We were more than happy to stay silent and chew on the memories of the trek that was.

(PS: The reader is requested to keep in mind that the terms moderate, small, huge, clean, good, bad, heavy. difficult are all subjective to individuals physiques and emotions.)

 
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Posted by on March 21, 2014 in travel

 

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Happy rain, travel woes and the useless buffalo

People should be taken out of the road. The road is for those who pay road tax and apparently obey traffic rules. The traffic policemen, the security at the gate of office all give due respect to the motorists. Salutes are crisp and clear for those who travel by car. Anyone with an SUV or luxury car can expect a free hand wave to get it through the traffic. They must be the rich, the elite, the powerful, they cannot be stopped.

I had this odd incident , I had a 12 hour journey in train. I had learned enough football to give shoulder pushes on the people around. To push them from blocking my way. My way is right and my way is always free. No one can stop me. I am invincible. I could happily push through the people and get out of the unreserved compartment. I could push all on my way from the platform to the road. I could push people around in the bus and make space to stand. It is my right and my way, that is always right. I get down at the destination. The moment I get down it rains. A gentle reminder that there is someone above, who can always play with the tap with ceaseless source of water. It flowed heavily , swept the dirty roads, cleaned the sideroads and whatever was left of footpath.

There was water everywhere, I was not thirsty. So, I left it where it is, that is, on the road. It started filling the roads. I was happy to get wet in the rain, since anyway I had not taken bath. I had the head dry, that was the most important aspect. Head was safe with a plastic cover. And then Whoosh! Splash! I was drenched in that dirty muddy water, it was done by Some Qualis with Taxi permit. May be he is busy, may be he did not see me. May be he is in an emergency. With lot of effort I tried to place him in a position to receive my forgiveness. But the ego of a man is not thwarted that easily. I was searching for some stone to throw at his window. But he was lucky , there was not even a small piece in vicinity. I dropped the plan and got myself on the middle of the road. This time no one should splash muddy water at me without hitting me. And then the motorists seem to understand my feelings. Sometimes, there were a few unmindful, who honked at the nuisance created by me. I was all the more happy. I am getting a natural bath that will will clean up the dirt.

I reached the room, threw my clothes for washing and showered myself to cent percent cleanliness. I was sensing the neatness about me. I was feeling slightly spiritual. Cleanliness is next to godliness. I decided to visit the temple nearby. And then proceed to my office. I started again onto the road and forward. I had the end of my pants folded up so that no water can directly make me wet. I had discarded shoes for normal footwear. I was prepared with a cap and an umbrella. I could see bikes struggling through the potholes of the road. I was happy that I was not being inconvenienced by being in possession of bike and facing the hardship of driving through the rain. I did not have to buy an expensive raincoat, and I could help myself with a low cost umbrella. I could be happy with so much less. I could enjoy the wet wind on my face and slight dampness of the surroundings. I thoroughly enjoy this, while a raincoat would have marred this entertainment.

I waded through the clean waters this time. And faced the most ugliest portion of the path. It was a 100 metres of dirty flood. A forgotten footpath were the garden plants and trees shook with pleasure at the sudden rain. The gates of a few compounds opened to the footpath blocking it. I pushed it back and try to regain the invasion of the householders on the footpath. I could manage with what was left of footpath, a clear 1 feet width was only occasionally touched by the waves of the muddy pool. I worked through the pre-determined path. I could foresee a vehicle in opposite direction and went behind a parked car to safeguard myself. I stayed on and a vehicle went past me. I walked peacefully thinking about the waves of sea. The rain that I had experience near the seashore. With the tides hitting violently at the rocks that block the high tides. The waves in the muddy pool on the road were mere minor reflections of the same from a different angle. And a Toyota Innova went past me splashing all the dirt on me. I was soaked. Drenched. Inundated!.

On a normal day I would expect such rowdy behaviour from a Ford car owner but never a Toyota. That too an Innova. That too when I was feeling happy and lost. So much for the reality. I decided to protest with my misfortune. I did not return back to change clothes. I went to the bus. Pushed the conductor and people around. I felt slightly happy that an otherwise silent self was joyfully pushing against others. This was revenge for the forces that had pushed me into this situation.

no footpath, no respect for fellow beings. This is a merciless, pitiless world for real.

To take a pro-active, progressive and positive steps with forgiveness may prove fatal.

To be an useless buffalo which accepts anything that come the way, be a block , unmindful of the consequences, was more easily done and said.

PS:

Congratulations! You have read 2 pages, totalling 969 words.

 
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Posted by on October 22, 2013 in Uncategorized

 

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Close encounter with a pick pocket ?

Today I had a very close encounter with a pick pocket I believe.

I was hanging with many people at the regular MRTS in Chennai. Being a regular I know how many will approximately get out of each station and how many will get out just to make way. Today I assumed my role to be of the later because of the apparent crowd inside the train. I was moving out to make way for some guy who was happily pushing against me. I sensed my pocket become light and whoosh! my mobile is missing by the time I was on platform.

I looked around and saw a guy who was putting something in his right side pocket while I was on the left side. He was on my right side and I almost! believing that he had taken my mobile and put in pocket followed him to the coach back while telling somewhat loud .”my mobile”. He was looking at the right end corner of the entry to the coach. And there it was my mobile lying there on the floor of the coach. Had it been a little bit more outside it would have fallen on track. I kept mum while noticing this guy’s hand for rest of the journey while I was having both my arm inside the pockets.

I am not sure whether it is this guy who had taken the mobile out of my pocket, but definitely it was him who pushed me. I undertood that he belonged to that entrepreneural class which believed in monopoly, he did not have helpers.

If he had helpers it would have been easier for that guy to throw the mobile on track to be later collected by someone else.

But thanks to the spirits which helped me to retain the mobile since I was having my 5 railway tickets in that.

It makes way for the question that what will happen if you do not put the ticket in print and take your mobile sms ticket as proof, and then someone steals the mobile leaving you as double loser, without ticket you pay a fine, also without mobile you are definitely a loser.

That may be sometimes a hypothetical thought, but possible. Being careful is the only way to live!

 
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Posted by on September 6, 2013 in travel, Uncategorized

 

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The Rainbow, the colors of life

Image

A Rainbow appeared at the end of weekend work at TIDEL Park Chennai.

It was a pleasant evening to see the light drizzle , the cool breeze and a light heart. The week’s work being over as Friday evenings are with a wish to travel with free thoughts and rest apparent.

I saw a rainbow that I can fix in my mind, till I see a next rainbow in life.

As I was enjoying the rainbow and the cool lightness of existence, forgetting everything around, transcending a little away from the natural reality that I was regularly immersed in,

A little later it dwelved on me, the load of the day and the burden of the week that had passed . And soon the mobile rang, putting the forever entropy in action.

 
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Posted by on August 4, 2013 in Uncategorized

 

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Shadow Mirror- Combing your hair without help of a mirror.

One day in those endless journeying in MRTS (Mass Rapid Transport System) Chennai, I was being pushed around by the fellow passengers. They have never seen Mumbai in their life, I believe. Or they have become restless due to the kind of food they eat. It has went into their bloods that "pushing is mandatory in travelling".

And very interestingly I got out at the required station by sheer pushing – help from people. Sun was on its usual morning high. With limited windows of show, the sunrays passed to the railway station and touched the wagons of the MRTS train. The crowd was unmindful of the sun , the light or the train, now that they are out , they are interested in pushing and running. I could see a bit of sun getting blocked from its path towards the wagon. There was a shaking of a branch, no a broom, no a bunch of hair amidst the silent-pushing crowd on the platform. A man was combing his hair. He has made a quick and innovative way to comb his hair without a need to look at his face , per se , as reflection on a mirror.

That was on fantastic way of combing the hair.

I have seen people trying to do make-up with a mirror, water reflection, mobile cam, webcam, skype, car and bike- mirrors and similar mirrors. The shadow mirror method was one of the rarest and innovative style and way of combing the hair.

Thanks to that unknown individual for showing an interesting method in the midst of the crowd.

 
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Posted by on August 2, 2013 in Uncategorized

 

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