A scar on the face of Paris

“How do u like our new glass pyramid?” General Bezu Fache asks Robert Langdon.

 “Its magnificient” he says and starts explaining that it’s a modern architectural marvel that has 333 pieces of glass placed perfectly into a pyramid.

“A scar on the face of paris” he interjects as he takes him into the Louvre. Too bold a line that would feel like a needle prick even as we read it. It expresses the hatred that people who loved old parisian architecture had, on its modernisation.

I enjoyed Pondichery more than what Piscine Molitor Patel did in Life of Pi – Afterall I have been spending this full quarter of my life in that town. Irrespective of its names: Vedapuri, puducherry, it was always pondichery to me (pronounced ‘pondhishery’). My fascination grew up from school days listening to everyday stories of my octogenarian French tuition masters – on how Pondicherry used to be, the French political and social system, from hospitals to markets.

“The original general hospital was called “Hotel-Dieu” literally meaning hotel of god…” “my father was a pharmacist, he used to make tablets by hand using powdered medicine” “everything in pondy was planned perfectly, streets had shops that sold just one particular commodity -  like all the shops that sold cosmetics were lined up in the Nehru street end ” and there was a new one in every class of  ‘Monsieur’ Bernard Venance. Combined with his enthusiasm, these stories were a perfect feast to my imagination.

This passion got more into an obssesion making me collect all the little tit bits of information I hear. I ended up taking my friends and family on heritage walks across the town. I used to drill their heads with the ellipse shaped plan of old Pondichery with the canal dissecting It into an unequal two, the two clock towers at the foci(one was removed as it hindered public transport near the market-gandhi street crossing), the larger part of the ellipse being further demarcated into the tamil and the muslim quarter.

Then there came the three invaders – to scar the face of Pondicherry. They sprouted like mushrooms. Those just-another-skip-away liquor shops to begin with. It has nothing to do with me abhorring drinking but their proliferation changed the way we saw Pondicherry - accept it.

In the meantime we witnessed all our cinema talkies getting knocked down one by one – slowly but very alarmingly – to accommodate the luxury hotels, the next set of invaders. The first one excited us, the third and fourth one did not attract much attention and to see the fourteenth such hotel popping up now is annoying.

It was a get-together with mom’s colleagues in 90s at this new ice-cream shop.  It was called Baskin 35 Robbins and tasted very different from the Arun ice-cream we grew up with till then. But, just after a year or two it closed down. Pizza corner came then, stood much adversity and established business somehow. ‘That was all folks’ till years back, when pondy saw another sea change. Loads and loads of brands, from jewellery to textile to fast food, more trying to fit in everyday, suffocating this little town. We love KFC zingers, our moms love GRT and Alukkas, not to forget the day long shopping at kumaran stores and pothys, but we all liked Pondicherry without them J

NB:

I found this interesting link when I was looking out for the second pic

http://old.auroville.org/journals&media/avtoday/archive/2004-2009/2004-03/plan_pondicherry.htm

The story of a river

Viewing something from the perspective of science and religion simultaneously– I remember the 3D glass they gave at movie theatres in the 90s, with a red and a green filter, totally contrasting sides only to give a greater depth.

Few days back, I watched a detailed video description of the Ganges from its origin till confluence along with sites of religious importance by Velukkudi swamy. I got goosebumps when he said “gangaya paathale punyam”, I felt so accomplished. Sooner my attention was grabbed by this study by IIT Delhi and Newcastle university which has revealed the prolific spread of the blaNDM-1 gene in the Ganges river bed especially during months of mass religious gathering.

This New Delhi Metallo-betalactamase resistance gene is what made the shocking headlines sometime back when it was first detected in the capital city. The gene has now been found to be more common among residents of such holy cities by the side of the Ganges and transmitted to other pilgrims via fecal contamination of the river. You take a dip in the holiest river in India only to get a dose of diluted shit with a potential superbug - Irony at its best! Not to mention the sugar-coating in the discussion of the article that they do not suggest avoiding religious gatherings in such places and this contamination is probably due to overloading of sanitation facilities.

The last time I stood by the Ganges was three years back at Varanasi. The pungent smell and the sight of people openly defecating literally made me puke that day. And it was the common sense in me that won over religion and I left the place without the ceremonial dip and just wished I never went again. I can’t help mentioning the collection of some 300 odd photos I came across in a blog showing the not-so-picture-perfect side of Varanasi – dead and putrefied bodies (human indeed) some floating on the river and some just by the side of pilgrims – I could not stand 50! The blog looked like in Chinese but if I were to choose a topic - “Do you call this the most sacred place in India?”

Continuing viewing through the science lens, only the exponential transmission of this gene has been documented. Whether it translates into an increase in the causalities due to a multidrug resistant infection has not yet been substantiated. Its only a matter of few years as the gene can easily tunnel into a clinically significant bacteria and make it super-resitant.

My religion relentlessly tries to convince me about the holiness and the sacredness of the Ganges. Used by Brahma to wash the feet of Vishnu, the waters gathered up and flew into a ferocious river that was controlled in Shiva’s hair lock and was later released into land following the penance of Bhagiratha. Touched by all three of the trinity, it gains its utmost importance in Hindu literature. Majestic aarthi is conducted in the riverbanks everyday where thousands gather with songs and praises for Ganga ma. She is the one who washes the sins of everyone but still remains pure for eternity.

The Ganges - my sketch

I would not debate about her glory. I salute her and bow to her but for the dip part - I would think twice!

CLEAN UP NAGALA - 1 & 2 MARCH 2014

Route: Nagalapuram(Western ghats) - west entry – till 5^th pool

Lead: Nithyan and Archana

Trekkers: Jai, Jaya, Wasim, Murali, Alex, Siva, Krishna, Umapathy, Swami and me

Midway stop for a cup of tea

My maiden trek with the Chennai Trekkers Club started with a call from Nithi on Friday 28^th Feb and what followed was total randomness. I informed home, Sai and myself did some shopping all day and I joined at Nithi’ s residence with an all loaded backpack and a sleeping mat. We started around 1.30 am on Saturday and six others joined us at ‘Motel highway’ with their bikes.

L to R : Myself, Murali, Alex, Wasim, Siva, Krishna, Uma

We reached Nagalapuram around 5 am and decided to take a short nap before we start off. Most of us were excited that we could hardly sleep and did a quick mobile photosession :D

 It slowly dawned and we began splitting up the ration. Everyone carries an equal share of the vegetables and snacks in their backpacks. Wasim was honoured with the Nithi’s trek bag which itself measured about three fourths of his height!

Jaya and Archana in the lead

A 40-minute walk took us to the base of the mountain. We got into the valley steering through dense vegetation and walking alongside the stream we reached the temple pool. It was a shock for all of us as the whole place was covered with hundreds of thermocol plates, even worse, with decaying food debris. I was told that the localites celebrated shivarathri there – probably they got bored of littering the town that they came up to the forests.

Litter everywhere!

A narrow ridge before the first pool where we had to curve to fit in

Crossing the stench we reached the first pool where we stopped for a swim. The ice cold water relaxed our muscles instantly. Filling our bottles we continued our trek to the second pool. The climb from second to third pool was quite steep and that was a preview to the more perilous path ahead.

First pool

We crossed the other side of the mountain and the next one hour of trek had the most stunning views to offer.  Steep rocks, extremely risky climbs all paid off when we reached the magnificent third pool. We did not stop to dip into the water though. Continuing with the stream, we climbed further up and reached the fourth pool. The fourth is a tall gorgeous waterfall and we could not resist. We took a refreshing bath till our bodies dropped off all the heat of the trek.

Murali enjoying the view

Third pool in the backdrop

crossing third pool

Wasim's backpack!

 At the waterfalls (fourth pool) - Nithi at the bottom

I felt the trudge between fourth and fifth pool was the toughest. What we saw was just the bare mountain at an inclination of 60 degrees. Nithi had that sarcastic grin but his masterly advice definitely helped. Soon, we all transformed into four legged animals manoeuvring with the slippery loose rocks, ascending slowly. We paused in between but even the larger rocks we chose to sit were quite unstable. With the adrenaline rush, we reached the top of the cliff and the other side of it. Breathtaking views of the valley followed, again. We got down the same cliff up till the valley and following a small ascent, reached the fifth pool.

"when you are about to loose balance, always lean forward"

Alex at the cliff top

Fifth pool -  At last !

Serene is just the word. Though not as big as the third pool, the stream had an innate calmness and the water looked immaculate. We dipped into the water, enjoying the sense of accomplishment but our tummies already started ringing. We got into work, picking firewood and cutting vegetables for the ‘enriched noodles – Nithi style’.

I saw everything going into the noodles -  from paneer to potatoes to kaju and dry grapes. The aroma was a gustatory treat! A sumptuous lunch was followed by some chat by the poolside.  The cold breeze and our tired muscles dragged us to slumber. A few of them succumbed over a boulder. I was just holding it till the tent was made. I should have had one of the deepest sleeps as I remember nothing that happened from 6.30 pm to 1.30 am!

We couldn't help but crash!

But there was still work to do

Everything thrills when you are in a forest. Imagine attending a nature’s call at midnight when its pitch dark amidst rattles of insects and reptile sounds. And when I woke up then, the bonfire was still on. I grabbed something to eat and after an hour of chat we got back into our tents.

A refreshing swim and elaichi tea started off the next day. We made sev chat and before eating more, we judiciously cleared the campsite and began descent. Our plan was to halt at the third pool for lunch. We hardly stopped anywhere in between and reached there by around 1.30 pm. We met another group of trekkers from Chennai Trekkers Club who were on a social trek. They said they had brought kids from 2^nd to 7^th class and had left them at the first pool. Soon, we had the entire third pool for us! We jumped into the pristine waters and for the first time I was confident enough to swim at waters so deep (40 feet) -  probably the do or die attitude that a trek brings in you!

Umapathy taking a confident dive

Banquet lunch followed – Paneer tikka for starters, Bissibelabath and potato curry for main course. “doctor sar aah.. avaru podi aakama udamaataare ma” Nithi enjoyed pulling my legs on how I chopped vegetables. The all-ladies trek, another group from the CTC crossed us and were greeted with our hot yummy lunch. We were all so reluctant to leave and started quite late. The rest of the descent ended up being a night trek and took almost two hours and a half.

Tempting?

Some of us carried garbage sacks that we kept filling along and the best part was the surprise that awaited us when we crossed the temple pool. The full area was cleaned up so well to all our delight. Later we came to know that it was by Bala and team. The trip ended with a group picture before reaching to the vehicles. We bid bye to the mountains and finished the trek with a filling dinner at the dhaba.

At the trek's end

Things excite even more when they happen at the unexpected moments and that’s exactly how this trek ended up being. More than just another climb, this was definitely an eye-opener for me, to what is called ‘responsible trekking’. We never used any soap/detergent all the days and carried water from the stream in separate bottles for toilet needs. We did as much clean up as we could but were even more surprised to see how everyone in CTC had the same amount of responsibility.

Littering public places is hardwired into Indian brains as an individual right. Trying to keep roads clean is talked off as impractical most of the times. But when I think – If some people can carry garbage all the way down a hill to clean up, can the others try not to litter at the least?



Photos from Nithyan s facebook album, mobile clicks by Wasim and me

Do Re - Mi story

You do not qualify for a singer when you sing in the right pitch or when you get the rhythm or the tune right. It’s at that moment when you let yourself free and sing just what runs in your mind, like there is no one in front of you. It’s when you know music is inside you.

Do a deer is from the classic ‘Sound of music’- sung by a governess to the children to help them remember the English notes Do Re Mi Fa So La Ti Do.

It goes like Do a deer, a female deer

                  Re, a drop of golden sun

                  Mi, a name I call myself

                  Fa, a long long way to run

Recently, when I saw this part of the movie for the first time, I was so uncomfortably deported back by some fifteen years. Many a times when baby madhu cried, immediately his little brother came up singing “Doe a deer a female deer, Ray a drop of golden sun…” It worked with the crying but I always wondered what is the connection between a doe and a ray and why should I call myself when I have to run far.  Sadly that was the only sensible song taught during music classes at school apart from the national anthem. And it has taken all this time for truth to hit my head like a thunderbolt- laughs.

Music at high school went exactly opposite the way it was supposed to. All I remember about my music teacher was his golden ring with a dull red stone. Pretty well because that finger came up so eagerly to pinch our earlobes to derive that sadistic pleasure – for forgetting our music notebook at home.  Perhaps that way he has brutally reinforced his meaningless version of this song into our brains.

And disaster did not end, the second year he asked us to bring the same notebook we used before (for the second stanza of doe a deer). I remember the pinchy! So for all the petit seminarians who would feel meh right now, guys its alright, and its ‘Do a deer’!

I did not qualify for the choir (which contained almost half of the entire class) and all my songs at intra-school dint even manage to change the monotony on his face. But hell yeah! The more he made music so unreachable the more I tried jumping to reach it, I guess. I believe music is written in your destiny. When it is supposed to be a part of you, it will – cutting through all odds! And it did.

I am a great fan of happily-ever-after endings. So, years later… It was another afternoon outside the auditorium when VB asked me “shall we make some music?” I was really happy someone asked me that and even before I could prepare the songs I knew or even think of a song, he was already on the guitar and strumming. I look around the hall, no one, happy. “what can u sing” was the next question. And around that time ashish had joined too and I said I can try carnatic. He connected the mike, thought me a plain tune and then what happened was just magic. I did not know what raga I sang, no pitch, nothing but it was a perfect jam. Eldo, drummer heard us from groundstairs and he came up with the beats. WOW! And that- That was my moment!

The graduation cultural nite. The photo had to undergo layers of editing due to the continuous instability of my dad’s hands caused probably by an intense emotional outburst.

Suresh Sangeetha wedding. Awesome moments! Felt really nice to sing in front of a multi-lingual/ ethnic audience. Probably the first time I sang Carnatic somewhere other than a home. I was nervous from top to bottom :D Thanks for the photo suresh n manni!