[Poetry]: Walk away

You sit in lofty seats,
Feeling like the witness as history repeats.
While on your ass, consider the misery you cause
As your judging eyes belittle the loss.

An adventurer you call yourself,
Stories are not yours, but of the books on your shelf.
Nothing you say is novel or your wisdom
Much of what is already said and you just give me the sum.

Why should I not loathe you?
Because loathing you needs energy
Because loathing you needs time
Because loathing you is such a waste, I can't even find a rhyme.

So, here oh judgmental world's being!
I dismiss your judgment of me.
I show a gesture so obscene
And walk away washing my hands clean.

[Thought]: Cabin sized home

The first time I had packed my bags to leave home was in 2002. I have lived in hostels and traveled since then. I would say I left my home in 2002, and twelve years down I am still in transit. In the twelve years, many modes of transport have happened, many kilometers have passed. Yet, I feel like I have not reached my destination.

A year and a half back my dad asked if I was considering traveling across the country. I loved the idea and hit the road. Most of my breaks from work are for travel to familiar and new places. Most of the time meeting old friends again and making new ones. I have been at it since then and I love the feeling of reaching someplace and experiencing new culture and food. More than anything I like being close to the forests and away from the city. I don't like the hustle bustle and the cacophony. I despise the addictions that technology brings us.

Again today I am packing my bag. I have my tickets and I will be away for a while. Away from where? Not from home, because living between two cities and three houses, I don't recognize a home for myself anymore. I feel like a traveler everyday and each moment. Like I am on my way home, just that I am not sure what that feels like anymore. I know the day I reach home, I will know I have come home.

I wonder if it is a physical place, or just a state of being, being home. Maybe home is made by people who love you and accept you with the quirks. Maybe home is the moment with loved ones that you are in, where you feel welcome. Maybe home is when you feel secure, and all the worries are suspended in that moment. Maybe home is just that moment of belonging to the people, the place around. However fleeting the moment might be, home is a beautiful place.

As I pack my bag, I look at the contents. Sets of clothes, brush, paste, soap, towel, shampoo. Sleeping bag, warm jacket, socks. My notebooks, my trusty umbrella and some money and ID. I know this is about all I need to live. I am sure I will survive in just these. I feel warm looking at my bag. I think it's time I painted it with my favorite fictions. I think it's time I put some familiar faces on it. It welcomes me, and I trust it not to let me down. I have memories with this bag and promises of many journeys to come. Is it possible that this is my home?

Maybe that is how travelers are, finding that home is tucked away in their bags, anywhere in the world. Right at their back, packed in small rolls, all the happiness, memories and everything they need in a cabin size pack. Truly a cabin sized home.

[Thought]: Fight to be on my feet

It must have been the bruise. As I just sat there I realized it. It was not the fall. It was never the fall.

The fall came easy. Just a little slip that cascaded into a collapse and loss of grasp in that moment. Then the inevitable fall. At the bottom I just sat. Wondering where it went all wrong. Somehow the moment is all muddled and the time is skipping ticks. The sequence is so clear and yet it is random. Did the dots ever connect or am I thinking them aligned like the constellations that never have the stars even close? It was just cause and effect, action leading to reaction leading to another reaction. It could have actually swung in many ways and I would not be here. But I am. Here, at the bottom at this moment.

But why am I still here? Because the bruises will not let me move. I am hurt, I can feel the pain. The tears roll down even when I try to control them and not show. But the hurt is real and a big part of me fights it with all strength and another is acknowledging it. The tears are hot as they roll down, not cool. They are burning my skin. They are not of pain but of anger. I am angry because I can't stand up. Maybe not because of that. But the anger is at they way I can't get up. And maybe because I can't let go. Maybe because I fell when I did not expect to fall. Maybe it's just my ego.

Yes it must be the bruise of my ego. Holding me down. The more persistent of the pains. It gnaws at my conscience.

Let go. Let it be. Stand up. Acknowledge that you had the courage to fight. Acknowledge that you had the courage to take the risk.

Stand up because you are better on your feet than watching the world pass by as you sit and nurse your ego. Stand up because there are more fights coming your way. Stand up and take the shield of courage because the world needs to be beneath your feet. Stand up because there is so much to be and so much to live. Stand up because the next fall is waiting for someone like you to take a chance. Stand up because I am better than this. And I stand up.

Yes I am afraid I will fall again. Yes I am still hurt. But, I am up. I am set to explore more. I am learning more. I am fighting harder. I am living more. I am alive and loving it!

[Poetry]: Chai ki chuskiyan (sips of tea)

This post is dedicated to all my friends who spent time with me over sips of tea. Some loved tea, some loved me and some I loved very much. But, between the sips of tea, much was discussed and nothing was discussed. Sometimes it was just tea, but each cup of tea was a moment shared and now a part of my life. 


लगता है मुद्दतों बाद आप से फ़िर मुलाकात हुई।
(Feels like its been ages since I met you)

रोज़ आपको देखतें हैं, पर आज मिलने की फुरसत हुई।
(I see you everyday, but today I had time to meet you)

कहानियाँ आये-दिनों की, कुछ बीते कल की,
(stories of  everyday, some of yesterday)

कुछ उम्मीदों और आप के सपनों के चहल पहल की।
(Some of hopes and some of the buzz of your dreams)


मौसम की सर्द सी आहों से ज़रा हट कर,
(Apart from the frigid breath of the season)

इन ऊंची इमारतों के और मोटर-गाड़ियों की कर्कश से बच कर,
(Away from the noise of the tall buildings and motor-vehicles)

चलिए उन बीती गलियों की जानी-पहचानी आवाज़  में कुछ गुफ्तगू कर लें ।
(Lets go converse amongst the familiar sounds of  the streets)

उन पुरानी बातों साथ पुराने प्यालों में यादें भर लें।
(with the old talk, in the old cups, lets fill them with memories)



आज थोड़ा बीते दिनों की, आने वाले कल की
(Today, a little of the bygone days and of tomorrow)

कुछ पुरानी यादों के सन्नाटों की, नए सपनों के कल-कल की ,
(Some silence of the old memories, the pitter-patter of new dreams)

एक, दो ऐसे ही कुछ बातें कर लें ।
(Lets talk about one, two or more of such talks)

इन चाय की  चुस्कियों के बीच कुछ खुद को ही याद कर लें
(Between the sips of tea, lets just remember some of us/me)

[Trek/Travel]: Sun,sand and waves - Gokarna trek with BTC

Some warm sun, white sands and calm cool waves. Check. Some rocky cliffs, with corals and sea shells attached. Interesting. Some muddy slopes, and loose pebbles on a steep seaward face of a hill. Challenging. A flat hill-top with mesmerizing grassland springing up as you climb behind the fort wall. Rewarding. A wash in cool sacred waters after a dip in the sea. Definitely worth it.

That is what trek was all about. But, summaries are just that, they leave out the spicy details. The rest of this article is just about the stories as I like to tell them.

I am part of a trekking club, called Bangalore trekking club (BTC as we fondly call it). From time to time, to remind myself that I am part of a much larger scheme of the universe, I am speck on a speck of sand, I go trekking. In the wild I connect with my fears and hopes. It liberates me to be away from the ho-hum of the electronics and the nitty-gritty of work and life. And this time, it was a beach trek!

Where did we go? We went from beach to beach, along the west coast of Karnataka from Kumta to Gokarna passing the Nirvana beach, paradise beach, half-moon beach and the beautiful OM beach finally reaching Gokarna beach.

A compact 20 seated accommodated the 20 of us. On teaching Kumta, we waved a last bye to all the many shops, eateries and other comforts. A quick breakfast and we geared up for the two days trek. It started on a  beautiful beach with many boats on the shore and a few fisherman still visible at the horizon. The sands were white and clean. All through the sand we could see little holes surrounded by beautiful spheres of wet sand. They looked like the diwali fireworks without the heat or light.

We reached the first hill, on top of it was a little fort ruined and watching time go by. This was a photo moment and do we pose!

Then another beach, and slowly the fun started. We crossed the longest beach in the whole trek, barefoot in the by the waves, this was Nirvana beach, long stretch of white beautiful sands. By mid-day after a decent distance covered, stomachs grumbled a bit. I think the grumble reached the trek-leader's ears too, we decided to take a small detour to a little town by the coast. Here, in a small shop, we ransacked for any eatables. We discovered the local delights. The best of which was the thirst quenching "Ragini", at least some of us thought that is what it was called. It was actually called "ragi neer" translates to the juice of ragi (a grain found in these parts). Someone made the mistake of offering home cooked rotis and tomato chutney, then some chutney-powder, bhindi (ladies finger) curry and rice rotis and the food kept coming to the table and disappearing in a blink. Then thanks to Shakti, we got to know how each one of the "Amma" cool drinks tasted. Only if wine tasting also had an extension of cool-drinks tasting, Shakti would have won many awards. To close the meal we had MTR made dal-chawal. And we started to trek again. Refreshed.

We started trekking again, and this time the terrain got interesting. The slopes were steeper and loose gravel made stepping tricky. While i fell a couple of steps behind, i found inspiration from the 11 year old who made the uphill look like a child's play. My new hero was ahead of me and i followed her stride. Slowly and steadily we reached on top of the hill, at one point we could hardly see a trail ahead. Bushes and thorny shrubs surrounded us, at the bottom white waves crashed into large black rocks. The landscape across the fort wall was completely different. The grass covered the entire floor in even golden. The mist of the morning still lingered here adding a beautiful haze. It felt like a dream.

At the end of the day we reached a small beach adjacent to a village hidden behind the trees lining the beach. The fishermen were roping in their days catch as we reached. We pitched tent and jumped into the waters.

How could we not!? After freshening up, hunger surfaced again and campfire was set. In the simmering fire, we heard the story of "Ek thi daayan" (once there was a witch) from our little story teller. I liked Bebo, the little kid in the story, but the narrator was much more mesmerizing. Then I made my first ever barbecue onion in the campfire, luck was with me and it tasted great, and we were hungry. Thanks to industrious efforts of the guys, we got cup noodles and loads of yummy MTR food again. Then the games began.

We played dumb charades, and strange facts came out. Got to learn what happens when you hug too much and that there is a phenomenon called "baba Mulayamgiri"( hermit named smooth hills). With the sound of waves we finally retired to our tents and slept, while a friend to be stood guard by my tent all night. He made sure no other dogs would disturb my sleep and only he would. In the morning we made peace and became friends.

Morning next to the beach, the memory itself refreshes me now. For some however the peace of the morning was interrupted when someone trespassed a peaceful natural call unknowingly. The said person was aloof and seemed uncomfortable for the best part  of the trek that followed. When one has to go, one has to go. We started on more rocky faces on second day. We reached a small hotel after a long trek. The hotel only served eggs and omelettes from them, for vegetarians like me, this was disappointing. To rescue the vegetarians like me, one brave girl took up the task of teaching the cook how to cook amazing Maggi. We pooled all Maggi packets and gave her, she managed the show so well. Meanwhile, idle hands were at mischief, lets say yada yada yada, and about seven of us tasted the green grass that deserved to be eaten by cows. I am still surprised how is that one has never eaten grass?!  After a while, I got a plate of the best Maggi after a tiring trek.

One more fort later, we had the view of the Om beach., shaped like the Om word in Sanskrit.

On Om beach we lounged and had lunch. Long chats about this and that. Refreshed we started on the last leg of the trek. We finally reached Gokarna and a dip in the seas and a shower in the holy waters. Just the perfect end to a trek. But, wait, there is more. Then we went and saw the temple in Gokarna. After the temple visit, we had the yummiest free food from the anna-daan (rice donations). What a fitting end!

And we returned to the same buildings and mundane lives, but the shine of the sun and the smell of the seas for two days stayed for the next few days in me. As it fades, I am preparing for my next exciting trek in the wilderness.

PS: Photos are from different people, just the memories are mine. 

[Review]: Cornerstone of neighborhood the disappearing corner-stores

He knows the exact type of chilies my mother prefers, and knows a lot more about our household than me. He also, helps my father find the neighborhood electrician. He is not Google, just the owner of a small grocery store in the neighborhood. Just until a few years back, there used to be many grocery stores like his in my neighborhood. Many have closed down. We feel slightly handicapped and miss the familiarity of the shops. The substitutes have been very bright superstores with many options and ever changing brands.

My neighborhood is unlike most of the other parts of the bustling city. It has mostly people with 9-5 jobs or retired. We don't have enormous buying powers nor do we need bulk groceries. The shopping is a part of the weekly, sometimes daily ritual in homes. I wonder why the superstores should replace the small grocery stores.

First let me cover all the emotional comments on the trend of superstores. A superstore is a big, non-personal place, with staff that hardly knows you or the store itself. The staff, I must say, look like in perpetual dread of the hovering managers. The cashier is not even looking at at the customer when billing, his worries are with the big bulky swipe machine and the many mistakes that might remove him from the job he landed in, thanks to someone who knew someone. All in all, I think a superstore is just another of the modern invention of the management chain that establishes a system removing a little of humanity from the place.

Next, I ask how and why these stores come into existence. In the 1910s, Clarence Saunders started the first self-service super store. I must say that there are many contenders to who started the first of such superstores, but this is the one link that seemed reasonable. In the 1940s, the system of superstores replaced the small focused stores with large built areas and one-stop shopping centers, thus bringing organized retail concept. Quickly US adopted the concept of box stores in the 70s. Slowly the concept took over the world. More about the super-store history can be found at groceteria and the UK story here. And the concept arrived in India in late 1990s with Big Bazaar of the Future group, and somewhere in the past few years, it creeped into my sleepy neighborhood.

Yes, the size compared to the neighborhood stores is different, but it is the target and the profit margins that truly make a difference between the types of stores. While, the corner stores intend to sell to neighborhood familiar customers for small profits in terms of quantities bought, the super-stores rely on bulk buying behavior. In such behavior the bulk expenditure is rewarded with large discounts. The target customer of the super-stores is clearly the middle-class with steady monthly incomes and a bulk grocery shopping behavior. However, about 50% of Indian workforce, urban and rural are casual laborers. So, clearly the super-stores are not aimed to reach the common man, by definition.

The super-store structure is to provide organized retailing and remove the "middle-man". There have been other models that attempted at removing the middle-man  and supplying the goods produced locally directly to the consumers. Such models are present for supplying milk in Gujrat, namely Amul. Welfare of the producer and the consumer was the key aim of the white revolution, that helped develop Amul and other organized milk supply chains in India. The affect of such a revolution is to enable the common man to become self-sufficient and also encourage entrepreneurship at an individual level.  A super-store however, is a organization led system that would curb the current entrepreneurs who own small corner-stores.

However, if the development of superstore was based on creating a sustainable growth, the results would have been different. A super-store, would have been a chain of retail that connected the producers to the consumers via small local outlets using franchises owned by individuals. This is much like the milk supply model that is working so well in our country. A bigger central store here and there would not be seen as a competition, but a welcome member in a densely populated neighborhood with larger demands.

Perhaps, this is not the era to be asking for looking at societal sustainable developments. With apartments dotting the skyline of all the big cities, a new profiting model is just around the corner. This is based on online door delivery of all goods to the tech-savvy consumer. This system completely avoids the need for high-rent shop-floor and a friendly customer service. Now, we can live nuclear and only interact with the small screen of the phones, avoiding any human interactions that might connect us to the society. Soon, the small stores will die and then the big stores will become warehouses. In this new world an individual will be completely isolated and any spirit of entrepreneurship will need a minimum technology knowledge to even start. Common Indian is well known for jugaad, it is time to see what new jugaad will result to such artificial constraints. Meanwhile, my neighborhood will continue to see the slow decline of human relationships and familiarity that came with being here for years.

[Thought]: Ode to machines.

It's most extraordinary! Somehow the first of everything, where a man could not go simply, a machine was commissioned to go. The mission to moon, the first crafts in air, space depths of oceans or into a volcano and recently Mars, all have been machines.

Machines have made human life more complicated and yet less burdensome. I know, that without the modern machines a kitchen would be a nightmare for me. Right from the lovely mixer-grinder to the coconut scraper a kitchen is a machine heaven. The washing machine liberates and let's my hands be soft and supple. Sometimes they might take a break, but the machines are always there to help out, save time, save energy and bring comfort. A machine gives me time to be.

We all love or heroes, an individual to aspire to. But we fail to see the collective and sustained efforts that go into building machines that are everyday unsung heroes. This little note is an ode and praise of the little machines, gadgets and tools that the modern technology has brought to us. Yes, I am archaic in thoughts at times and ready to defend my grandma's times, but oh! How I cheat to buy some comfort and pleasure at the touch of the button. I know my grandma would discard her ways at the drop off a hat to have one of these lovely machines.

My love to all the engineers who made all the exciting machines and gave me the chance to be modern!