Zapped in Bangalore Part-II




Traffic Light Tree

Originally uploaded by Simon-K

Ruminating about the poor information available for a new-comer to a city like Bangalore. Managed to pull myself for a couple of weeks before a as yet surmountable problem becomes more problematic.

Traffic. There is no other word which brings more consternation to any resident in this city other than probably the last chief minister of this place. I used to complain about Mumbai’s infrastructure. After seeing Bangalore, I am not sure if it is that bad. Mumbai leaves you with very little options to commute. Bangalore offers you with some more options, but one is done for anyways.Because after nearly a month in Bangalore, my throat has gone sore and my back has started aching because of the protracted time spent waiting for the traffic to smoothen out. It has sort of never happened unless I am travelling after 12 in the night. Think about it.

I am fairly consicous about my health and that forces me to think that whatever good I do by jogging at 7 in the morning is more or less undone by the fumes I inhale at that time of the day.At the cost of being fatalistic, I do think that we are all dead in the long run.

I am not too keen on complaining, but just a thought, which has occupied significant mind-space in recent times. I do not know if I can do much about it. Good to hear that some residents of bangalore are planning to put up some of their candidates for municipal elections so that they can do something about what people like me just write about.

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Days back

Lotsa years back I had been to Jammu & Kashmir.

Oh,…let me start with the reason why I am writing this blog. Read a post by Kalyan about Kashmir. Reminded me of the sights and sounds that I recollected during those few minutes. It was very interesting because I have not done this as far as I can remember. In no particular order, I will try to recapture those moments.

“…Ghostlike ferns swaying to the rhythm of the Dal lake. This is what I saw when I peered over the edge of the boat which was taking us across the Dal lake. They were so close to the surface of the lake and yet were away from arm’s reach when I tried to touch them. The surface of the lake seemed like a thin veil separating me from yet another world which was melting into darkness as one tried to peer hard into the lake. I wondered how it would feel to swim amongst those ferns…”

“…Beautiful boat-houses which were too expensive for people who use LTC packages. That wouldn’t prevent us from going around one of them. From the cold embrace of the chilly Dal lake to the warmth of a structure entirely made of wood. It was an all new world for me. Wood paneled doors and beautiful cutlery made of wood. Every piece was a work of art to me. I can safely surmise that it was. I wonder if it is,…”

“…Long drives along the river Jhelum which was swollen and brown with alluvial soils being churned as they had been during every monsoon. Light drizzle palpable as untouchable pellets on the other side of the window pane. Air thick with moisture as all windows of the bus were closed. People hardly speaking and the road did not seem to offer much succour. The river was raging furiously as the valley was filling up with incessant rains. My mind was removed from the moment and the powerful swishes of the Jhelum acquired new meaning. The bus careened dangerously close to the edge. And the entire bus went mum. I wanted to get to the left side of the bus so that I could have a clearer view of the Jhelum…”

“…Nights were colder. I saw a quilt for the first time. The floor was colder than I expected it to be and I could hardly wash myself after a dump session…”

“…Snow-capped mountains and rented paraphernalia were interesting…”

“…Lovely gardens and crystal clear water.  I did not know terrorism and everybody was the same for me except my family.. .”

Feel like a human being

Travelling down outer ring road. Saw an accident victim in the first few minutes post-accident. He was right below the rear end of a lorry. His bike was badly smashed in the front and so was he. He was bleeding from the nose and his ear. Not very good signs. Parked my bike by the side of the road and tried to see if some first aid was possible. I weaved my way through oncoming cars to beg for a first aid kit. No car would stop in the first place and nobody would even look at my supplicative self.

Got a first aid kit, only to realise that nobody was calling for an ambulance. As I was dialling for an ambulance, I realised that a better idea would be to just put him in an auto and get him to the nearest hospital. Rushed him to a hospital nearby. Docs, the real ones, told me he was sloshed. Retrieved his phone and called up his friends. They were there in 20 minutes and once I was confident that they could take care, I left.

One of his friends thanked me. I said that it was normal to help. He said he had seen a guy dead on the road because people hadn’t helped. It all boiled down to the golden hour, the first one hour post-injury.

Things which stuck on my mind are that the people who helped were people on two-wheelers and pedestrians. It included the auto driver who did not mind blood on the rear seat of his auto and the possibility of a police hassle if asked to bear witness. No car stopped. People in cars would just peer and drive away. I can understand what might have run through their minds. But it is sad that people assume such things would not happen to them.

But at the end of the day, I felt this is the first worthwhile thing that I have ever done. I consider saving a life to be next only to education when you transform lives. And though I am a doctor, who has not practised in three years, I am still not in the business of saving lives. This felt immensely satisfying.

Thank god I was there.

black is not empty

Twilight zone and breeze in the air. Breeze gains strength to rustle the leaves. Steady hum in the air. The heat recedes from the clutches of the day which is dying by the minute. Life lays still for a brief whistle from the trees.

Leaves are touched by threads, woven in knots by distant thoughts. Form moves in the strength as personified by the better half of shakth. Tresses traipse down in the wake of energy, smothered by oil tenderly strewn half a day ago. She is walking away with her back as foil for my fancies. She is wrapped in a black saree which seem to drown everything that I feel for her. Thoughts seem to reach her and she stops for a moment.

A gentle movement and she turns with her brightness making itself evident over her shoulder. Graceful hand makes itself felt on the branches of the tree nearby. She gingerly shifts her lovable hips and lets the tree hold her for one eternal moment.She looks up and seems to sense my presence in the air. She pauses for a moment, as though teasing me.

She turns to show her full face and her beautiful nose ring shines like the half moon on a clear night. While her lips play with my eyes, I stand in abeyance, in fear of the moment when she would turn back to leave me forlorn.

The wind turns abruptly and she responds on the quick. She turns with her saree trailing behind those dainty steps. In the folds of her saree, she carries my hope that I will see a night like this,…yet again.

Zapped in Bangalore!

We have dime a dozen portals for information about Bangalore. But something which catches my attention about all these sites is the generic nature of information and the lack of any specificity. They create more clutter than actually helping out any particular search for information. They seem to suffer from the same problem as with statistical information provided by the Government of India. We can get information about a lot of topics, but the relevance and usefulness of the information is circumspect.

So for a person like me who has just shifted into Bangalore, there is ample information about everything, but most of it is useless and/ or outdated. Just yesterday I had a look at a ‘Bangalore shopping guide’. I wanted to buy a pair of jeans and I look in the shopping section and there listings only for expensive, designer stores. I am simply not able to understand on what basis they have decided that only people with loads of disposable money will look up a shopping guide which doesn’t seem to expensive.

Data data everywhere, not a drop of data which makes sense. Forget the ‘rhyme’ for a moment. Will ya?

IIM 2004 – 2006




IIM 2004 – 2006

Originally uploaded by crazyfoetus

The best photo ever and summing up everything that those two years had given me.
Fk!

Wayward!




sensuality

Originally uploaded by Globuskz

Travelling along crooked lines,…

Scrawling with lead,

Turning as the scent gets stronger,

Rages in two different directions,

Or is it two?

f’ingers twisted by heat,

Reaching for the five,

I stand at the door,

I am wayward within and without.