This post is part of The Chennai Bloggers Club's Wordless Wednesday series initiated to keep the spirit of blogging alive and challenging.
Wednesday, March 20, 2013
Gateway to Freedom - Berlin Wall
This post is part of The Chennai Bloggers Club's Wordless Wednesday series initiated to keep the spirit of blogging alive and challenging.
Tuesday, March 19, 2013
When I did fly
Reading through Susan's post about her first flying experience here, I was a bit inspired to share my own debut flying experience. What started off from a mere Chennai-Bangalore flight many years back, at one point, became the only means of travel, and is poised to be so for atleast a few years to come.
On my father's side, I come from a family of well-to-do families, to whom flying was almost a daily affair. More so with international destinations, especially for holidays. But, hey, that was just on my father's side. Our family was a simple, yet, happy middle class. My dad had flown before, on an all-paid-by-the-bank business trip to Tokyo, Singapore and of all places, Bangkok. When he talked of the awesome JAL (Japan Airlines), where each seat had a screen on the seat before it, operated by remotes, that seemed the limit.
But I always kept my longing to myself, even as a kid. Scores of times I wanted to tell dad that I wished to fly atleast once, but no I didn't. Not that he would say no, but actually he would say yes. And I didn't want to burden him with that. So each time, my cousins (from the father's side) told me vivid stories of their trips to Hongkong, Europe, Egypt etc., I would be struck by a pang of jealousy, but I always let it go, secretly hoping that some day in the far future, I would fly too.
And it did happen.
I vividly remember the first time I was on an airplane. It must have been somewhere around 2001-2002 when my aunt(mom's sister) got a lumpsome bonus at work and decided to treat us kids (my cousins & I) to a flying experience. Five cousins on board two aircrafts. I was booked on the erstwhile Air Sahara (later taken over by Jet Airways) along with one cousin and the other three were on Indian Airlines. Coming from a family where flying was almost a daily affair (atleast on my father's side), I knew how "good" Indian Airlines was and remember very well about mocking the other kids that they were travelling on cattle class (or something to that effect) and we were flying business class.
Our flight was at 5 in the evening and the I.A flight was at 6 in the evening. Nonetheless, considering cost cutting, all of us reached the airport at 2 itself. Yeah, 2 PM for a domestic flight at 5. The racket we created at the airport, now when I think back I can only laugh at myself. Our mere being in the airport itself was something we couldn't comprehend. The glee on all our faces, staring at everything - even the baggage weighing machine at the check-in counter, the cute ground staff - well just everything about the airport was such a huge thing.
And finally we boarded the aircraft. Off we flew. Once in air, the fun started. The seatbelt, the seatbelt sign, the air sickness bag, the stunning airhostess (oh yeah, even at that age) who demonstrated the safety procedure (well, I listened in rapt attention, just to observe her every movement. Well, in later times, I never really bother listening to the safety procedure, thanks to her), the packed food, even the push back in the seat - everything seemed such a huge thing. As we got off the plane, she gave me the most gorgeous smile saying "Thank You, have a nice day". The innocent kid in me assumed it was only reserved for me (well later realizations did shock me initially).
And thus began a journey in the sky.
PS :
1. Never fly Air India to an international destination.
2. Fly Tiger Airways only if you are on a really tight budget
3. IndiGo airhostesses are the best of all the airlines I've flown (beating Jet and Emirates)
On my father's side, I come from a family of well-to-do families, to whom flying was almost a daily affair. More so with international destinations, especially for holidays. But, hey, that was just on my father's side. Our family was a simple, yet, happy middle class. My dad had flown before, on an all-paid-by-the-bank business trip to Tokyo, Singapore and of all places, Bangkok. When he talked of the awesome JAL (Japan Airlines), where each seat had a screen on the seat before it, operated by remotes, that seemed the limit.
But I always kept my longing to myself, even as a kid. Scores of times I wanted to tell dad that I wished to fly atleast once, but no I didn't. Not that he would say no, but actually he would say yes. And I didn't want to burden him with that. So each time, my cousins (from the father's side) told me vivid stories of their trips to Hongkong, Europe, Egypt etc., I would be struck by a pang of jealousy, but I always let it go, secretly hoping that some day in the far future, I would fly too.
And it did happen.
I vividly remember the first time I was on an airplane. It must have been somewhere around 2001-2002 when my aunt(mom's sister) got a lumpsome bonus at work and decided to treat us kids (my cousins & I) to a flying experience. Five cousins on board two aircrafts. I was booked on the erstwhile Air Sahara (later taken over by Jet Airways) along with one cousin and the other three were on Indian Airlines. Coming from a family where flying was almost a daily affair (atleast on my father's side), I knew how "good" Indian Airlines was and remember very well about mocking the other kids that they were travelling on cattle class (or something to that effect) and we were flying business class.
Our flight was at 5 in the evening and the I.A flight was at 6 in the evening. Nonetheless, considering cost cutting, all of us reached the airport at 2 itself. Yeah, 2 PM for a domestic flight at 5. The racket we created at the airport, now when I think back I can only laugh at myself. Our mere being in the airport itself was something we couldn't comprehend. The glee on all our faces, staring at everything - even the baggage weighing machine at the check-in counter, the cute ground staff - well just everything about the airport was such a huge thing.
And finally we boarded the aircraft. Off we flew. Once in air, the fun started. The seatbelt, the seatbelt sign, the air sickness bag, the stunning airhostess (oh yeah, even at that age) who demonstrated the safety procedure (well, I listened in rapt attention, just to observe her every movement. Well, in later times, I never really bother listening to the safety procedure, thanks to her), the packed food, even the push back in the seat - everything seemed such a huge thing. As we got off the plane, she gave me the most gorgeous smile saying "Thank You, have a nice day". The innocent kid in me assumed it was only reserved for me (well later realizations did shock me initially).
And thus began a journey in the sky.
PS :
1. Never fly Air India to an international destination.
2. Fly Tiger Airways only if you are on a really tight budget
3. IndiGo airhostesses are the best of all the airlines I've flown (beating Jet and Emirates)
Wednesday, March 13, 2013
Be your own boss
This post is part of The Chennai Bloggers Club's Wordless Wednesday series
initiated to keep the spirit of blogging alive and challenging.
Wednesday, March 6, 2013
Adopt me !!
This post is part of The Chennai Bloggers Club's Wordless Wednesday series
initiated to keep the spirit of blogging alive and challenging.
Woman's Day - a tribute to the best cooks in the world
This post is part of the Chennai Bloggers Club which is celebrating a week long "marathon" in the honor of womanhood.
Over the past few months, there has been a huge hue and cry all over the media (social and mainstream) against the brutal assault on an innocent girl in our capital. Suddenly India seems to have awaken to this call and people are making loud comments concerning women. Several bloggers I interacted with during those times made some really bold talk about this and sadly some even went on to call men certain names. Well, all this vehemence is truly understandable, and being a guy it is difficult for many of us to actually empathize with their plight.But I am not going to speak about that in this post. In fact, I am going to talk of something that many of us see daily, but really do not fail to appreciate.
When I moved abroad, I thought it would be fairly easy to find food, considering its Singapore. But no, finding real "food" in Singapore is somewhat difficult. By real, I don't mean the scores of Indian restaurants around Little India. What I mean is authentic Tam-Brahm food. Something only each one of our mothers' can make. Well, that's really when I realized the value of the food my mother makes.
I cook my own food, but there are two problems to it. One being that no matter how well I do it, it certainly never matches what my mother makes. Secondly, it sure is an ordeal to actually make all pre-cooking preparations, something that is time consuming. More than that, the choices being limited, sometimes one tends to get crazy. I mean, how many veggies can you put in a sambhar?
But our mothers never seem to run out of choice. Each day, even before you think of getting your lazy arse out of bed, there she is, toiling in the kitchen to prepare your lunch before you rush off to work. Sometimes with working mothers, this rises their work scope all the more, for they have to prepare food for the entire family before she can actually get dressed to work.
Yet, beyond all this, I can sense certain things with the food a mother makes. One, it sure does have a "secret" ingredient (which most people would term love, but I beg to differ), that only a mother knows. Second, she never seems to tire out, or atleast pretends not to. Why? Just so you are well fed. Thirdly, she seems genuinely happy about it.
Many of us would actually observe this daily, but never really realize how much a mother does, just to make you happy. In the honor of all mothers who just feed their kids well, here's wishing you a Happy Woman's Day. Thank you for being there for us each day. You certainly know the way to a man's heart.
-Prashanth Ashok
Over the past few months, there has been a huge hue and cry all over the media (social and mainstream) against the brutal assault on an innocent girl in our capital. Suddenly India seems to have awaken to this call and people are making loud comments concerning women. Several bloggers I interacted with during those times made some really bold talk about this and sadly some even went on to call men certain names. Well, all this vehemence is truly understandable, and being a guy it is difficult for many of us to actually empathize with their plight.But I am not going to speak about that in this post. In fact, I am going to talk of something that many of us see daily, but really do not fail to appreciate.
When I moved abroad, I thought it would be fairly easy to find food, considering its Singapore. But no, finding real "food" in Singapore is somewhat difficult. By real, I don't mean the scores of Indian restaurants around Little India. What I mean is authentic Tam-Brahm food. Something only each one of our mothers' can make. Well, that's really when I realized the value of the food my mother makes.
I cook my own food, but there are two problems to it. One being that no matter how well I do it, it certainly never matches what my mother makes. Secondly, it sure is an ordeal to actually make all pre-cooking preparations, something that is time consuming. More than that, the choices being limited, sometimes one tends to get crazy. I mean, how many veggies can you put in a sambhar?
But our mothers never seem to run out of choice. Each day, even before you think of getting your lazy arse out of bed, there she is, toiling in the kitchen to prepare your lunch before you rush off to work. Sometimes with working mothers, this rises their work scope all the more, for they have to prepare food for the entire family before she can actually get dressed to work.
Yet, beyond all this, I can sense certain things with the food a mother makes. One, it sure does have a "secret" ingredient (which most people would term love, but I beg to differ), that only a mother knows. Second, she never seems to tire out, or atleast pretends not to. Why? Just so you are well fed. Thirdly, she seems genuinely happy about it.
Many of us would actually observe this daily, but never really realize how much a mother does, just to make you happy. In the honor of all mothers who just feed their kids well, here's wishing you a Happy Woman's Day. Thank you for being there for us each day. You certainly know the way to a man's heart.
-Prashanth Ashok
Saturday, March 2, 2013
Har Har Mahadev
This is perhaps the first time I am doing a book review. So it may not be in the traditional way how any review is done. Hell, it may not even be a review in any sense. It is more of the reflections that I derived out of reading this book; well, this trilogy, to be precise.
With the first novel - The Immortals of Meluha, Amish painted a really beautiful picture of ancient Indian way of living - right from the cities and its sanitation system, right on to the righteous lives led by the citizens of Meluha. Fast forward, we reach Tibet where the tribals lead their so called barbaric uncouth lifestyle and it is from such a setup that the Neelkanth emerges. The reader is also introduced to the Somras, the elixir of life to the ancient Indians. Detailed narration of how it is made (at Mount Mandar), its powers and its importance etc. are presented and the reader is made to wonder how it would be if he can lay hands on this amazing tonic. Here, Shiva meets his to-be-friend Brahaspathi. Later the Mandar is destroyed and Shiva believes this is the work of the Meluhan archrivals, the Chandravanshis and declares war on them. Meluha wins the war, but only then Shiva realizes his mistake (for, the Chandravanshis had their own tale where Shiva would save them against the evil Suryavanshis - the Meluhans). Confusion reigns, but the book concludes with Shiva charging towards saving his wife, Sati.
The second novel - The Secret of the Nagas, in my opinion was the most interesting read of all the three books. For one, it picked up beautifully from where the first book left off. For another, it introduced two major characters - Kali and Ganesh, and the story woven behind their history was portrayed in the most obvious manner possible. That Kali and Sati are twins and Ganesh is Sati's long lost child angers Shiva, but he later forgives Ganesh, and also tries to emphatize with the sort of life his son had previously led, being banished by his own grand father for being born with deformities and hence being branded a Naga. The book brought out the moral fiber of the elephant god. This book is also significant, for it brings in most of Shiva's future associates, when he took on the fight against evil. At the fag end of the book, Shiva's entourage is attacked by unknown daivi astras. The book also reveals that Brahaspathi is indeed alive and not dead, as was thought of, after the attack on Mount Mandar (in the first book)
The third book starts off with Shiva seeking to understand why Brahaspathi had lied to him and faked his own death. As the scientist proceeds to explain this, truth about who tried to attack them enroute Panchavati gradually dawns upon them. It also reveals later that the true adversary was not Emperor Daksha of Meluha, nor was it Emperor Dilipa of Ayodhya. It turns out to be Maharishi Brighu. Eventually, Daksha, without the knowledge of Brighu Maharishi, gets an Egyptian group to kill Shiva during a fake peace deal. However, Shiva is out elsewhere, so Sati leads their camp to the peace mission. When she realizes the folly her father had committed, Sati is enraged and rushes back to save her group of soldiers. But the Egyptian killers mistake Nandi for Shiva and tries to attack him. Sati deflects him and duels his men. In the process, she dies a warrior's death, severely wounded by the duels. Shiva seeks revenge for this and uses the Pashupathiastra to destroy Meluha. Fast forward some thirty years, Shiva and the rest of his clan live on the Kailash-Mansarovar stretch and the trilogy ends here.
The trilogy is unique in a lot of aspects. For one, it introduces a lot of mythological characters in the most simplest forms as humans. That such characters walk on the face of the Earth, in itself is something we would all be thrilled of. Imagine the bull headed Nandi as actually a living human character. Same goes for Veerbhadra, another such character. To me, the best of all this would naturally be Brahaspathi, the scientist. For, in reality, we use the term Brahaspathi to describe someone who is really stupid. Stark contrast. Likewise, characters like Daksha or Surapadhman, who we associate with evil in the real world, are given their due share in this book. Their side of reasoning is explained so well that the reader is left to wonder if the Evil is actually not so evil.
But the best of all would be the choice of words and the language. We all look upon Shiva as someone supreme, but what Amish tried to portray was Shiva as someone just like you and me; someone who may well be right next to us. And it is ok for Shiva to use swear words (or for that matter, any of the mythological beings). For a reader like me, that is something unique, something I would never have imagined. But Amish did it. And I must admit, it was fine later. Also, this is one key aspect where Amish wins the reader over - all through the trilogy.
Also, Amish beautifully brings about the portrayal of modern day scientific inventions/discoveries as something very common back then. The sewage system, the customs at ports, the ship building and most importantly, the existence of nuclear warfare etc. are brought about in the most obvious sense. That is something which makes us wonder if such technological expertise did exist back then, and further makes us somewhat ashamed that we Indians could not sustain such priced knowledge.
Now, onto the third and the final part.
It has been quite sometime since the first two books released. Both books brought about war in the most realistic fashion. Gory bloodshed and warfare was narrated really wonderful. With the second book, expectations over wartime narration rose. With the third book, this reached its peak. Most of us expected this to reach an all time high. We wanted Shiva to fight Evil in the most crudest form possible, and destroy his enemies in a very nasty war. Well, we are in for a surprise. That part never happens. Except for subplot fights, there was no major war at all in the big. This, in my opinion, was a big time let down. Much of the expectation just got cremated then and there.
Also, the first two books built up the plot in a very gradual way, intertwining different events in the most natural way possible. The third book rushed off at such a pace that we lose track of what happens earlier. The plot, in many places, was just too quick and too shallow. There was nothing strong to it. There was something missing, in essence. I seriously wonder why Amish chose to write this third book with much expectation, to just let the reader know that nuclear weapons existed back then. Well, that may not have been his intention, but it eventually came down to that. In this sense, I would say that the third book was a really big let down, at least in most parts. What Amish started off with the first two books and built it to such a grandeur, he did not finish off with the same grandeur in his third and final book.
Yet, all said and done, Amish did attempt something brave, something unique. To portray the life of a God who is as diverse as Lord Shiva, in the most simplest and readable way, intertwining fact and fiction in the right amounts (such that the reader would never guess which was fact and which was fiction), is something remarkable. In an age where we have sleazy writers like CB and Ravinder Singh, who make it their life's mission to bring out a book that is just downright crappy in its covers, it is really heartening to have writers in the likes of Amish, who know what they want and who certainly know what they right. For that, Amish must definitely be lauded.
Overall : The Shiva Trilogy - 8/10
-Prashanth Ashok
The trilogy is unique in a lot of aspects. For one, it introduces a lot of mythological characters in the most simplest forms as humans. That such characters walk on the face of the Earth, in itself is something we would all be thrilled of. Imagine the bull headed Nandi as actually a living human character. Same goes for Veerbhadra, another such character. To me, the best of all this would naturally be Brahaspathi, the scientist. For, in reality, we use the term Brahaspathi to describe someone who is really stupid. Stark contrast. Likewise, characters like Daksha or Surapadhman, who we associate with evil in the real world, are given their due share in this book. Their side of reasoning is explained so well that the reader is left to wonder if the Evil is actually not so evil.
But the best of all would be the choice of words and the language. We all look upon Shiva as someone supreme, but what Amish tried to portray was Shiva as someone just like you and me; someone who may well be right next to us. And it is ok for Shiva to use swear words (or for that matter, any of the mythological beings). For a reader like me, that is something unique, something I would never have imagined. But Amish did it. And I must admit, it was fine later. Also, this is one key aspect where Amish wins the reader over - all through the trilogy.
Also, Amish beautifully brings about the portrayal of modern day scientific inventions/discoveries as something very common back then. The sewage system, the customs at ports, the ship building and most importantly, the existence of nuclear warfare etc. are brought about in the most obvious sense. That is something which makes us wonder if such technological expertise did exist back then, and further makes us somewhat ashamed that we Indians could not sustain such priced knowledge.
Now, onto the third and the final part.
It has been quite sometime since the first two books released. Both books brought about war in the most realistic fashion. Gory bloodshed and warfare was narrated really wonderful. With the second book, expectations over wartime narration rose. With the third book, this reached its peak. Most of us expected this to reach an all time high. We wanted Shiva to fight Evil in the most crudest form possible, and destroy his enemies in a very nasty war. Well, we are in for a surprise. That part never happens. Except for subplot fights, there was no major war at all in the big. This, in my opinion, was a big time let down. Much of the expectation just got cremated then and there.
Also, the first two books built up the plot in a very gradual way, intertwining different events in the most natural way possible. The third book rushed off at such a pace that we lose track of what happens earlier. The plot, in many places, was just too quick and too shallow. There was nothing strong to it. There was something missing, in essence. I seriously wonder why Amish chose to write this third book with much expectation, to just let the reader know that nuclear weapons existed back then. Well, that may not have been his intention, but it eventually came down to that. In this sense, I would say that the third book was a really big let down, at least in most parts. What Amish started off with the first two books and built it to such a grandeur, he did not finish off with the same grandeur in his third and final book.
Yet, all said and done, Amish did attempt something brave, something unique. To portray the life of a God who is as diverse as Lord Shiva, in the most simplest and readable way, intertwining fact and fiction in the right amounts (such that the reader would never guess which was fact and which was fiction), is something remarkable. In an age where we have sleazy writers like CB and Ravinder Singh, who make it their life's mission to bring out a book that is just downright crappy in its covers, it is really heartening to have writers in the likes of Amish, who know what they want and who certainly know what they right. For that, Amish must definitely be lauded.
Overall : The Shiva Trilogy - 8/10
-Prashanth Ashok
Monday, February 25, 2013
Chapter 10 : When fate wears a leather jacket
This is a chain love story as a part of CBC (Chennai Bloggers Club)
chain story relay. 17 bloggers get to write a chapter each starting
from 4th feb with the climax culminating on 20th March 2013. Thanks Vidhyasankar for introducing me in your post here. All the previous posts can be found here. Now, on to what I must do.
I was totally confused. My mind was in a complete
disarray. The last few weeks had been much more than a roller coaster ride.
Five weeks back
"Yes. Yes, of course I will marry you Guru" - I
regretted saying this, the moment it came out. Saying yes was an impulse
reaction. But what was said was said. I was stuck with Guru for eternity. Or
wait, was I? Surely Guru wasn't the kind of person who would carry too much
emotional baggage, if I tried to explain to him. But again, how can I be so
sure. Making a mental note to talk to him later and explain my predicament, I
hugged him tight. I was engaged.
As a to-be-married couple, Guru and I spent every waking
moment possible together. He took care of my every single need. He had already
started making wedding plans, even to the extent of which mantap in Chennai to book
and who should play the fusion music. Well, that was my idea originally.
Sometime back, I mentioned in passing that I would want a fusion music band at
my wedding reception. Now, it was coming back to bite me. Guru behaved like an
uncontrollable child. He came up with the most weird ideas at times, just to
cheer me up. Try as I could, something disturbed me terribly. Perhaps it was
the impending talk. "The Talk", to break off this engagement. Oh, but
look at the beautiful engagement ring he had given.
Gosh, Guru seems so perfect. Why am I not able to give
something back to him? Is it because I love him too and want to get married.
No, that can't be the case. Of course, I had said yes in a split second. But
that is proving to be quite a bad idea. Well, bad is an understatement. God,
please. Please give me the courage to talk to him.
"Guru listen. I need to talk to you about
something".
"Sure, my love. Tell me. Hey, you know what we should
do? For the reception, instead of the typical us standing on stage and people
come up with presents, why not have round tables so that you and I could walk
around, meeting people. Doesn’t it sound cool?" - Guru was unstoppable.
"Hmm, that won't work Guru. But forget that. I really
need to talk to you. I think….. I think I am not ready".
"Ready for what? The round table thing?" - he
winked
"No Guru. You know that. I mean I am not ready for the
wedding".
I could sense him turning a bit surprised. But not showing
his reaction, he continued. "Of course Ahalya, you are not ready. No one
is. But it just happens. Don't worry, I am here for you".
Perhaps I should bring it up another time. After all, we
still had a lot of time. Or so I thought.
Three weeks back
I met him again at the museum. Rather, I was going down in
the elevator, when a man entered at the third floor. As the lift started again,
there was a sudden jerk and the lift stopped. "Damn", I muttered to myself.
That's when I realized that the gentleman in the lift was none other than
Varun. Her Varun. The Varun who was hers; until the day it all ended. It had
been more than a year since we broke off, me having moved to Europe and having
settled down. It was more of a shock, a sense of uneasiness to have him there,
let alone be stuck in the elevator. As we got to arguing, Varun claims I was
affected by some shitty Stockholm Syndrome. Cadswallup. What did he think he
knew? Was he some goddamn God of Love? Idiot.
Finally the lift took off and we reached the ground floor.
Varun walked out of the lift ahead of me, fiddling with his phone as he went. I
went after him.
"Look Varun, I am engaged. That means, I have a fiancé
who loves me more than anyone. One who respects me, understands me. I am happy
with him. So…."
"Hey look, I respect that. I would never do anything to
harm you in anyway. You ought to know that well" - Varun responded.
"That's not what I mean. I mean … you know … " - I
couldn't complete what I had to say.
Somehow it proved to be hard. But why? Was it because I really did suffer from
that syndrome?
"I know what you mean Ahalya. I am happy for you. I
really am. I had my chance and I blew it up. It was my mistake after all. But
you really must know why. I think I do owe you the truth" - Varun said.
"The truth? What truth is that? I thought the reason
why we broke up was very obvious" - I started to get impatient.
"Well yes, in a sense. But there's more. Now is not the
time. Perhaps we could go to a coffee shop?" - he asked me.
"Look Varun, I already told you I am engaged. I don’t think
us going out would be very appropriate".
"Hey hey, cool. I am not asking you out. It's just that
I am craving for a coffee. Or atleast a caramel hot
chocolate. I see a
Starbucks there. Reckon we go there?" - Varun asked.
"No Varun, sorry. Atleast, not today. I am meeting my fiancé
in a while and I really must rush".
"Of course. I understand. Well, if you are free
Wednesday evening, lets try to make it for dinner. What say?" - he did not
bother to stop.
"Uhmm, well ok. But just dinner. Just food. Nothing
more, nothing less. Deal?" - I extended my hand.
"Deal" - he shook my hands.
Today
"You should try their Ischoklad. It is really
good" - Varun said.
"Isch what?" - I raised an eyebrow.
"Ischoklad. Its coconut oil mixed with chocolate"
"Eww, oil and chocolate? That's like … oil and
chocolate. Pah, I don’t want"
"No Ahalya, you really should. It is really good"
- Varun piped.
"Alright then. I will have it. Hey Varun listen, I must
have mentioned this earlier. But I think my fiancé might
join us later, for
dessert" - I said.
"Oh is it? Well, I must meet this man who has changed
you so well. Would love to meet the two of you" -
That's when the phone rings.
"Hey honey, I am just walking towards the café. I should
be there in about 3mins" - Guru spoke over the phone and cut the call.
"See, that was my fiancé. He is so considerate. He did
not make any false promises. That's huge eh?
Anyway look, let's forget all
this. You wanted to talk right? Please go ahead"
"Well, you see Ahalya. The thing is…. I uhmm… well, I
think I must not …. " before he could complete what he had to stay, he
jumped out of his chair and waved over my head shouting "Guru, over here
man" - with a huge smile on his face.
"You must meet this guy Ahalya. He is my colleague and good
friend. Guru. Look, there he is" - Varun explained, still waving his hand.
I turned around to see, and that's when it happened.
This post will be continued by Sowmya Swaminathan, a Commerce undergrad who blogs here. Good luck Sowmya
Thursday, February 7, 2013
A journey into Thailand - Part 4
So, part 3 is here.
The next day started off with a finely brewed coffee from Starbucks. My cousin from India was a Starbucks virgin, so he badly wanted to go. I was only happy to oblige.
After the steaming hot coffee, we went to the bus stand to book a ticket to Pattaya. Luckily, there was a bus leaving in the next 15 minutes, so we got it. Now, the buses are all Volvo airconditioned, and certainly a zillion times better than our SETC A/C buses. But the bus stand largely reminded me of our very own CMBT. Well, atleast the shops and the surroundings.
It was a 2 hour bus journey to Pattaya and I dozed off the minute we got in. Well, the seats were too comfortable and there was ample leg space. Felt just like lying on mother's lap. After two hours, we were told we had reached Pattaya and the first thought was 'Where the hell is the beach'. Well, yeah we were in a bus stand. But outside, it looked nothing like a beach side city. And then the answer came to us. The bus stand was somewhere close to the city outskirts and we had to take a cab to the beach front.
There was a tourist information office right outside the bus stand and a fine looking Thai girl welcomed us. We spoke to her (well, flirted actually) for about 20 minutes and got all the information. The first thing she suggested we do was purchase tickets for the sex shows. Politely declining the tempting offer, we got a rough idea of what we wanted to do for rest of the day in Pattaya. Bear in mind we did not have an accomodation, so basically we were care-of-platform fellows till the next day. Well, but that turned out to be quite an experience, in itself.
So, we took the cab to the beach road, got down at the very start of that nearly 5km long road and thankfully found an Indian restaurant. A couple of parathas and subji later, we were ready. We started walking along the coast line, clicking just about anything and anyone we found interesting. Some people were too happy to pose, too.
The one word you hear anywhere in Pattaya is boom-boom. That typically means, do you want a girl to get laid. Every few metres away, there would be an "uncle" who would stop you to ask. And each time, we said no. On and on we walked, looking at a myriad different things, making humor out of anything possible, well until it got dark. And that's when the life in Pattaya starts.
The first thing we did was to get the traditional Thai massage. And it was legendary. Truly awesome. One hour and 200 Baht was truly worth every penny. After it, felt thoroughly refreshed. Atleast, for the next few hours. And on we went.
Walking street is the best part of Pattaya. A nearly 2.5 km street,
where no vehicles are allowed, but only walking. And that's where just
about everything imaginable is. Sex shows, strip clubs, booze, hookah,
clubs, massage parlours etc.
We walked around this street nearly four times end to end, that when we go the next time, I will most certainly know where to head.
And then, later in the night at around 2 AM, we got some good foot massage for about an hour and some fish spa. Again, a much deserved thing for both of us. Following this, going with tradition, we decided to watch one of the sex shows, and almost paid for it. Thankfully, one Sardarji uncle whispered in my ear "Math jao bhaiya". Taking that as the cue, we just walked on. Sometimes, its hard to beat temptations, but well help would always be there. So we headed back to the beach, sat down and drank a bit. Till both of us were thoroughly exhausted.
Around 4.30, we took a bike taxi back, after bargaining with the driver that we would pay only 100 baht for two people (when he wanted 100 for one) and got back to the bus stand. Again, luckily, there was a bus starting in five minutes. We got into it, and dozed off all the way.
On reaching back to Bangkok, we took a cab back home and again dozed off. Later, in the afternoon, we went down to the pool to relax a bit. Followed by a good round of drinks at some sleazy place nearby
The next day, we visited some local places nearby, both of us being thoroughly exhausted out of the last few days. Later the evening, I headed back to the airport to fly back to Singapore.
Well, the journey in itself was impromptu in a lot of aspects. And each time, we explored something new, ate something unknown, tried to look at each place from the eyes of a local and not a tourist. That way, we saw a lot. True, we may not have visited the typical tourist places to take pictures, we may not have gone to a sex show. But we did what we thought was right, and that's just about it. At the end of it, we had fun and lots of good memories.
I hope you enjoyed reading through this self-claimed travelogue.
--Prashanth
The next day started off with a finely brewed coffee from Starbucks. My cousin from India was a Starbucks virgin, so he badly wanted to go. I was only happy to oblige.
After the steaming hot coffee, we went to the bus stand to book a ticket to Pattaya. Luckily, there was a bus leaving in the next 15 minutes, so we got it. Now, the buses are all Volvo airconditioned, and certainly a zillion times better than our SETC A/C buses. But the bus stand largely reminded me of our very own CMBT. Well, atleast the shops and the surroundings.
It was a 2 hour bus journey to Pattaya and I dozed off the minute we got in. Well, the seats were too comfortable and there was ample leg space. Felt just like lying on mother's lap. After two hours, we were told we had reached Pattaya and the first thought was 'Where the hell is the beach'. Well, yeah we were in a bus stand. But outside, it looked nothing like a beach side city. And then the answer came to us. The bus stand was somewhere close to the city outskirts and we had to take a cab to the beach front.
There was a tourist information office right outside the bus stand and a fine looking Thai girl welcomed us. We spoke to her (well, flirted actually) for about 20 minutes and got all the information. The first thing she suggested we do was purchase tickets for the sex shows. Politely declining the tempting offer, we got a rough idea of what we wanted to do for rest of the day in Pattaya. Bear in mind we did not have an accomodation, so basically we were care-of-platform fellows till the next day. Well, but that turned out to be quite an experience, in itself.
So, we took the cab to the beach road, got down at the very start of that nearly 5km long road and thankfully found an Indian restaurant. A couple of parathas and subji later, we were ready. We started walking along the coast line, clicking just about anything and anyone we found interesting. Some people were too happy to pose, too.
The one word you hear anywhere in Pattaya is boom-boom. That typically means, do you want a girl to get laid. Every few metres away, there would be an "uncle" who would stop you to ask. And each time, we said no. On and on we walked, looking at a myriad different things, making humor out of anything possible, well until it got dark. And that's when the life in Pattaya starts.
The first thing we did was to get the traditional Thai massage. And it was legendary. Truly awesome. One hour and 200 Baht was truly worth every penny. After it, felt thoroughly refreshed. Atleast, for the next few hours. And on we went.
And then, later in the night at around 2 AM, we got some good foot massage for about an hour and some fish spa. Again, a much deserved thing for both of us. Following this, going with tradition, we decided to watch one of the sex shows, and almost paid for it. Thankfully, one Sardarji uncle whispered in my ear "Math jao bhaiya". Taking that as the cue, we just walked on. Sometimes, its hard to beat temptations, but well help would always be there. So we headed back to the beach, sat down and drank a bit. Till both of us were thoroughly exhausted.
Around 4.30, we took a bike taxi back, after bargaining with the driver that we would pay only 100 baht for two people (when he wanted 100 for one) and got back to the bus stand. Again, luckily, there was a bus starting in five minutes. We got into it, and dozed off all the way.
On reaching back to Bangkok, we took a cab back home and again dozed off. Later, in the afternoon, we went down to the pool to relax a bit. Followed by a good round of drinks at some sleazy place nearby
The next day, we visited some local places nearby, both of us being thoroughly exhausted out of the last few days. Later the evening, I headed back to the airport to fly back to Singapore.
Well, the journey in itself was impromptu in a lot of aspects. And each time, we explored something new, ate something unknown, tried to look at each place from the eyes of a local and not a tourist. That way, we saw a lot. True, we may not have visited the typical tourist places to take pictures, we may not have gone to a sex show. But we did what we thought was right, and that's just about it. At the end of it, we had fun and lots of good memories.
I hope you enjoyed reading through this self-claimed travelogue.
--Prashanth
Sunday, February 3, 2013
A journey into Thailand - Part 3
Missed out on part two? Fret not. Here it is.
Ok, for a change, this part is going to be more of a photo journey with a two line description of each photo. Where I think necessary, I shall give a detailed write up. So bear with my unconventional form of writing a travelogue.
Bike taxis are another important aspect of Bangkok, and pretty much of Thailand. Bangkok literally lives on bike taxis. The picture above is also one of that, only we took a triples ride. That moment, I felt so damn proud of being Indian.
Ok, for a change, this part is going to be more of a photo journey with a two line description of each photo. Where I think necessary, I shall give a detailed write up. So bear with my unconventional form of writing a travelogue.
A photo of the current king of Thailand
This building served as a prison during the medieval times
Something similar to our Arasa Maram concept
Namesake meditation
So, the photo journey done for now, let me just write a bit about the experience of roaming around the Bangkok streets.
Only the tourist Bangkok seems nice, looks good. The real Bangkok is dirty, filthy and highly poor. And it reminded me a lot of Bangalore, for some reason (no offense of any sort to Bangaloreans). Somewhat highly unplanned, the city is. Traffic, pollution, honking - well you get the picture right? Having lived in Singapore for around six months, it was quite startling to actually see beggars on the streets. The bad old Indian story comes flooding back. Sadly.
Cutouts and banners of the Royal Family adorn every bit of Bangkok. And people respect the King so much. If you come across a banner and point out at it, the Thai people consider that disrespectful. To them, the King is everything.
So, starting out at around 10 AM on day 1
of the trip, we covered pretty much a lot of Bangkok. We decided not to
go into the Grand Palace, because of a sudden plan to visit Pattaya and
we needed money for that. Consoling ourselves that we would visit
Bangkok again once we start earning, we proceeded on. So, this walking
journey of Bangkok ended around 7 in the evening and we returned to our
room, to get ready for the next big thing, rather the most important thing - Cowboy Street - the strip club capital of Bangkok.
Now, considering the variety of audience and respecting all the womenfolk out there, I shall not get into the specifics of this leg of the journey. But, would gladly share experiences offline.
Next post - Pattaya
Friday, February 1, 2013
A journey into Thailand - Part 2
So, lets continue the journey, shall we? I am sorry I couldn't post the second part soon. But if you had missed the first part, you can find it here
Well, the next morning we got up around 10 AM and headed out. We did not have any fixed idea in mind, no particular place to see. This, for two reasons - first being, to visit any typical tourist spot, you ought to have shit loads of money. We were short on that, being students. Secondly, both my cousin and I were particular about exploring the "real" Bangkok. So, having checked the maps first, we decided to go to the place where the Grand Palace was located. This was because the major tourist attractions were around the palace. So once we go there, we could always enquire at a tourist information centre about what things were not so expensive in Bangkok, and what to do off-beat.
We decided to take the local transport. Luckily, there was one BTS station close to the place where we stayed. BTS is basically the sky-train in Bangkok that goes, in a lot of places, between high raise buildings and is really creepy in a sense.
This picture is a bit blurred, but the text actually reads 'Please offer this seat to monks'. And we crib about offering the seats to the needy.
So we took the train and headed out to a station called Victory Monument. From there, we were supposed to take a bus. And we took the bus. Only then we realized we hadn't checked the bus stop where we were supposed to get down. And the conductor did not know English. Thankfully, a Thai Paati helped us out and spoke to the conductor. Now, the Thai buses are no different from our very own MTC buses, except that most of them are air conditioned. Apart from that, everything else was mostly same.
This picture is just a small sample of the Thai Language. Some of the characters resemble Hindi right?
So a half hour journey in the bus, we reached the stop. Opposite to us was the Bangkok National Museum. Our very own Ganesha welcomed us to the gates. Yes, was quite surprised to see a Ganesha poster outside the museum.
Right opposite to the museum was a small hawker centre, quite different from the ones I see here in Singapore. It was more of a roadside eat out kind of place, the Thai version of kayendhi bhavan
Outside the museum, we bumped into a tourist guide, who spoke amazing English. He was our tourist information centre for the day. We got all the details from him, as to what to do and where to go. He patiently gave us a schedule, even called one of the tuk-tuks, bargained a charge of 100 baht to cover some 4-5 places.
So what are tuk-tuks? Quite simply put, they are one of the two lifelines of Bangkok. Tuk tuks are the Thai autos. Only, a lot more spacious than our own autos.
And here's our tuk-tuk-wala. One helluva driver he was.
So where did this guy take us? The next post would contain only the pictures and captions of all the places he took us. Until then.....
Well, the next morning we got up around 10 AM and headed out. We did not have any fixed idea in mind, no particular place to see. This, for two reasons - first being, to visit any typical tourist spot, you ought to have shit loads of money. We were short on that, being students. Secondly, both my cousin and I were particular about exploring the "real" Bangkok. So, having checked the maps first, we decided to go to the place where the Grand Palace was located. This was because the major tourist attractions were around the palace. So once we go there, we could always enquire at a tourist information centre about what things were not so expensive in Bangkok, and what to do off-beat.
We decided to take the local transport. Luckily, there was one BTS station close to the place where we stayed. BTS is basically the sky-train in Bangkok that goes, in a lot of places, between high raise buildings and is really creepy in a sense.
So we took the train and headed out to a station called Victory Monument. From there, we were supposed to take a bus. And we took the bus. Only then we realized we hadn't checked the bus stop where we were supposed to get down. And the conductor did not know English. Thankfully, a Thai Paati helped us out and spoke to the conductor. Now, the Thai buses are no different from our very own MTC buses, except that most of them are air conditioned. Apart from that, everything else was mostly same.
This picture is just a small sample of the Thai Language. Some of the characters resemble Hindi right?
So a half hour journey in the bus, we reached the stop. Opposite to us was the Bangkok National Museum. Our very own Ganesha welcomed us to the gates. Yes, was quite surprised to see a Ganesha poster outside the museum.
So what are tuk-tuks? Quite simply put, they are one of the two lifelines of Bangkok. Tuk tuks are the Thai autos. Only, a lot more spacious than our own autos.
And here's our tuk-tuk-wala. One helluva driver he was.
So where did this guy take us? The next post would contain only the pictures and captions of all the places he took us. Until then.....
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