This Seat is Reserved - Five ways to grab seats in a public bus

In India, public transport is cheap as it is want to be and there is a lot of public to use this transportation as is evident from the population of this country. There is always a mad rush to get into these buses, especially by people who travel to other cities to work. Added to this force are irregulars who just want to go to the other city. The resulting crowd goes so berserk at the site of a us that the people are pushed aside, pushed, pulled, shoved and crammed into a vehicle 10 years past its decommissioning date.

Almost... there... aaahhh...
Image Courtesy: theembarrassment.wordpress.com

So we Indians, as usual, have a jugaad for this not-getting-seat problem too. Our ingenuity truly is visible only in such times of desperation. Here are things people do to get a seat on public transport:

The Bag Throwers

People going to work tend to carry bags but people here sometimes carry bags just to throw them through the windows into empty seats. These people then take their own time climbing into the bus since they’ve assured their seat on it. They will then ascend as the bus starts to move, push past the other bewildered and mumbling passengers to pick up their bag and enjoy the seat they reserved not by being first in the queue but first to an empty window seat.

It looks so innocent... just lying there
Image Courtesy: langyaw.com

The Handkerchief People

Now that you know about the ‘Baggies’, we now move on to the ‘Hankies’. These people are too lazy to carry a bag so they use what is essentially a necessary product for everyday life – a handkerchief – to reserve their seats. The technique is the same as above but instead of big and marginally heavy bags; they use a piece of cotton cloth that passes as a ticket in public transport. And, it is completely valid as long s the conductor doesn’t interfere.

The ‘Taken’ Neighbours

No, these are not people whom Liam Neeson has saved from foreign gangsters. These are people who ask other to reserve their seats for them if they manage to climb up before them. The regular travellers develop a kind of bonding that happens when you spend a lot of time smelling each other’s armpits and borrowing newspapers to read on the commute. This, in turn helps them save places for each other so they can discuss which character did what horrible thing to another character on some television show.

Sorry, Occupado!
Image Courtesy: thestar.com

The Regulars

As mentioned earlier, the people who commute are the majority on these buses and over time, they sort of start respecting each other’s places like what usually happens in school or college. But even then, there is always some smartass newbie who thinks he/she can sit wherever they want. These people are scorned and the seats reclaimed even if that person get up to adjust their bag in the overhead holding deck. And the others, they just nod their approval in sadistic satisfaction.

Get off my seat... NOW!
Image Courtesy: worldnomads.com

The Legitimates

Well, these people don’t bother with the rush and the long lines and the pushing and shoving; they already have a ticket. For those who don’t know, people in public transport buses can buy tickets before or after climbing into buses. The ‘Legitimates’ are the only group of people who seem to have mastered the art of being wholly cool and buying their ticket at the counter. They stand round, saunter in and take their place reserved with an ‘X’. If there is an unreserved passenger sitting there, they will be reprimanded for their transgression with the show of a ticket. Fights often erupt because of their cocky nature.

Yeah, that's right. Yes, I do have a ticket.
Image Courtesy: wricities.org

I Founded my own Country!

“Give me Liberty, Give me Land, Give me Liberland!”

This is what Vit Jedlicka, the founder of a 7 sq km piece of land on the Danube River probably shouted at politicians from both Serbia and Croatia when they told him he couldn’t just go to an unclaimed piece of land and set up his own damn country. Why he asks? Because it’s apparently nuts!

Well, ask Jedlicka and his merry band of Liberlanders? Liberians? Liberlandians? Liberties? If they give a damn about what anyone says about their state of mind as they hoist their flag, sing their new national anthem and being totally awesome by giving the finger to their collective governments who made the mistake of allowing dual citizenship because they thought their citizens were responsible adults. Yeah, these people come from all parts of the world. I wanted to go to but it seems India does not trust its people like the Turkish government does.

There are a surprising number of self-styled Presidents and Kings and Dukes who’ve tried in the past and keep trying in the present to establish their own nations inside other nations, on no man’s land like Jedlicka did, by encroaching upon the sovereignty of more than one nation or in the middle of the ocean. Seriously!

Not Featured here: An Emperor.
Image Courtesy: Republic of Molossia.

These people even held a United Nations-like conference in April this year so that they could get to know each other, discuss their problems and know why they thought establishing their own country was a good idea in the first place. One guy is trying to get his own country near Egypt because he wants his daughter to be a real Princess. Really? And guess what all you little, less fortunate kids of the world; Disney is even making a movie on her! Go cry.

The establishment of such micro-nations, as they have been termed, is a growing trend even if it’s not a new one. The thought-provoking thing here is why all these people want their own countries?

 Is it because they’re tired of living in one country?

Happens to us all

 Is it because they don’t like the laws?

Well, nobody does

Is it because they’re trying to bring a revolution?

That makes sense

Do they want their children to be Disney Princesses?

There is something wrong with people

Do they want more international chaos than what already exists?

Peace is so boring

Do they want an army to chase them back home and then get ‘exiled’ status?

Definition of FUN!

Do they actually have a reason at all?

The Mystery!

Although all these Highnesses and Majesties and Honourables don’t have one particular answer to this question, it seems like governments who have problems with these people will sooner or later stop laughing at them and realize they should have stopped them a long time back… when they could. But by then:

WELCOME TO THE NEW WORLD ORDER

5 ways Modi is helping India with his manic Wanderlust

Narendra Modi has gone on 16 foreign visits to 15 countries (visiting Nepal twice) since he took office in 2014. Out of these, five have been to summits which include BRICS, UNGA, ASEAN, G20 and SAARC, while the others have been state visits.

There has been criticism as well as praise for the Prime Minister’s travels abroad for bilateral, multilateral and summit meetings with heads of state and fellow heads of governments. Mr Modi has been on a whirlwind tour of friendly nations and his government has played an important part in helping other nations with their problems.

Helping Maldives with its water crises, Nepal with earthquake relief and a half-dozen more nations with evacuation of their citizens from war-torn Yemen has been a show of solidarity, strength and a sign of deepening ties with India’s neighbours by a PM whose symbolism is not only hard, but impossible to miss.

In a series of brilliantly executed foreign policy measures that has seen even the Union Minister for External Affairs noticeably sidelined, the PM has created such immense opportunities for India that even the most ardent of his critics must admit that Indian leadership of this kind on the international stage hasn’t been seen perhaps since the time of Jawaharlal Nehru, and that’s saying something.

Here are the FIVE reasons why a PM on the go has helped India stabilize and improve its image abroad:

1.       Marching Westwards

Mr Modi’s visits to the ‘Western’ nations, including the United States, Germany, France and Canada has emphasised on a possible break from Russia’s influence and a march towards the West, an improvement on many levels since India would certainly not want to be seen snuggling with an international aggressor. However, although India did support Russia’s anti-gay legislation at the UN, the trend of this government’s foreign policy is definitely looking towards the west.

2.       Looking back East

The PM hosted Chinese President Xi Jinping and is slated to return the visit later this month. But this visit has been strategically placed after his visits to the rest of South Asia. This can only be seen as a sign of solidarity with smaller neighbours in the vicinity who view India as the only friendly nation powerful enough to counter the Chinese threat in the Asia-Pacific. Visits to Bhutan, Nepal, Japan, Myanmar, Australia, Fiji, Seychelles, Mauritius, Sri Lanka and Singapore coupled with the invitation for them to attend his swearing-in ceremony sealed his commitment to India again being forthcoming to address issues of regional significance after years of a dormant and laid-back attitude under successive governments.

3.       Securing India’s Backyard

‘An iron hand in a velvet glove’ is what Mr Modi truly is. He has made sure that his voice of co-operation and failing that, the sound of his cannons, is heard from Kabul in the west to Dhaka in the east and from Beijing in the north to Colombo in the south. The first concentric circle of foreign nations surrounding India have been made to realize that she will not tolerate indiscipline at her borders and will act swiftly and decisively against those who try to violate her sovereignty as Pakistan has found in recent times.

4.       Bringing in Trade

Industrialists have always had better deals and working conditions under Mr Modi’s government since the time he was Chief Minister. He merely took his idea of local manufacture of products to the next level when he was called upon to lead the nation. The ‘Make in India’ campaign has attracted not only the attention of corporate giants and MNC’s, but also various governments who seem to think it is lucrative to enter into an emerging market as vast and diverse as India. There is something for everyone and ultimately the country has a lot to gain if investment keeps pouring in. Sectors previously under government control will gain momentum under privatization and decrease reliability on imports to sustain demand. The value of the rupee will rise and with it, prosperity. The defence sector has been given utmost priority in this drive which is a step in the right direction.

5.       Connecting with the Global Indian community

Being the ‘Rock star’ of an Indian PM, Narendra Modi enjoys immense popularity with NRIs and PIOs all over the world. Wherever he travels, he makes sure he meets the Indian population who come in droves to see the leader of their homeland and to hear the orator in person. The crowds at Madison Square Garden in New York, the Olympic Park in Sydney and Ricoh Coliseum in Toronto are witnesses to the fact that this PM has managed to unite his flock not only at home but also abroad. They believe that this PM will lead India into the glorious future.

Bombay Chronicles #3 - Beautiful Bombay

Bombay is a very old city and by that merit, has some very old building, albeit in very good shape. It is not only the old ones though that are picturesque, modern buildings hold their own in competition. They just lack one thing, the weight of history that defines their older counterparts.

This is the third and final part of the Bombay Chronicles series. You can read the first and second parts here.

The BSE is a building I had wanted to see up close from a long time. The Bombay Stock Exchange, the centre of trade and commerce that essentially makes the city the financial capital of the country is an imposing structure and one can only describe the feeling of staring up at it as one of awe. The scroll of companies listed there and the giant screen outside the building coupled with high fences, roadblocks and what seems like a whole battalion of security personnel truly presents a visage that goes with something as important as the protection of a nation’s finance. And yeah, I got told off for trying to put national security at risk by almost clicking a picture of the building.

The Haji Ali Dargah, the mosque that is literally in the sea, is another place that I wanted to visit, thanks to Bollywood. The mosque, although thronging with tourists and the faithful is a place of immense calm if one were to look for it. Sitting on the edge of the border wall, staring into the water, one can feeling peace wash over with the salty breeze and crashing waves.

A happenstance led us to Horniman circle, an area next to Dalal Street which looks like Connaught Place in Delhi. We, as media students, decided to visit Bombay Samachar, India’s oldest newspaper. It was amazing to see that the old building was exactly how it would have been when it was first constructed. More files than computers, more fans than air conditioners and senior journalists looking up over the edge of their glasses at this bunch of prospective media persons. There were three different types of printing machines. And the best thing: They don’t use key cards to log entry and exit, they use the quaint punching system to remind them of the values that were integrated with the paper.

Marine Drive, where the wave of humanity meets the waves of the ocean at the edge of land (or rather the island). Watching the place in movies does no justice to the place… at all. Need a place to unwind at the end of a hard day but don’t want to do so at the bottom of a bottle, this is the place to be. The sunset, the water, the rocks, the concrete, the crows and the crabs present such a vivid mix of sensory perceptions that one can absolutely be lost in the fine line between nature and civilization. The pure energy thrown off by the city behind and the water in front, the clash of opposite forces and the feeling of being equidistant from both, in no man’s land so to speak is an experience unlike any other. It is truly the refuge of the tired mind weary heart.

The Gateway of India, one of the two most prominent ‘Gates’ in the nation is beautiful after sunset. Obviously, selfie-crazy people need to go before that but the beauty of the yellow stone, the lighting and the hilarious signboards together with the history of the place gives a sombre reminder of days before Independence. And of course, the Taj hotel just next to it adds up to the whole experience of patriotism as symbol of steadfast reserve of the Indian people and their ability to bounce back from anything at all.

The Gateway of India.

This was all the beauty I managed to cram into my short stay in Mumbai and the rest… perhaps another time.

Bombay Chronicles #2 - Rising Tide

Bombay is the city by the sea and the people living therein are like the drops in that sea that fills up this great metropolitan, rendering it virtually impossible to breathe or see anything once inside.

This is the second part of the Bombay Chronicles series. You can read the first part here.

Image Courtesy: Google Images.

As Poseidon threatens to engulf the island and reclaim what is his, the wave of humanity pushes back in defiance, gathering more of its own into the city and inadvertently helping the Lord of the Seas in his diabolical agenda. Unlike Atlantis, which he sunk with one swipe of his trident, Poseidon seems to be biding his time for Bombay to give up its soul willingly, albeit unwittingly.

Bombay, like other cities in Japan, Europe and Scandinavia, is an island; an island that is slowly but steadily filling up with a lot more people and infrastructure than its natural capacity. Factors like the Indian population explosion and an extended rate of migration to this financial capital have overpopulated this city.

The crowd on Chowpatty beach on a Sunday.

Rising water levels around the world due to global warming and deteriorating weather conditions are posing an increasing threat to this city’s contemporaries like Tokyo and Venice. In fact, in extreme weather conditions, the sea has been known to lay a invasive hand upon Bombay’s streets as well. How long before it decides to place the city under siege?

I am no meteorologist or geologist or statistician but one can always wonder what would happen if conditions were to get worse. It is not like nobody is aware of the problem but can it be that people would rather live in denial of a problem rather than think about its ramifications? And to think that I got this theory of denial from Dan Brown’s book ‘Inferno’ which coincidently I bought in… Bombay.

Bombay Chronicles #1 – Taking on Trains, Taxis & Traffic with Tequila

At first sight, the city appears to be nothing but a mass of humanity running in various directions with myriad purposes and at varying speeds. There is a sort of slow motion scene where everything slows down when you notice something beautiful and the next moment you are pushed back into reality and into the same throng of people you noticed as you stepped foot into economic powerhouse of an island.

The people, the lights, the noise, the smell… it all feels unrealistic and in a vague sort of way, a bit like what it would be like living inside the world of ‘The Matrix’. But here, people are controlled traffic lights, trains signals and numbers that go up and down at the Bombay Stock Exchange.

In Bombay for a week, probably half of my trip was spent travelling, thanks to the vast size of the city and the distance between places. Here is how the three T’s convinced me that the only way I’m ever going to Bombay again is as a tourist and nothing more.

Trains

Image Courtesy: Google Images.

The sheer number of people at any local train station startled the wits out of me and I’ve hung on to the side of a public transport bus many a times in Ahmedabad, where buses are tilted by the sheer weight of people hanging out the door. So you can imagine when I say I’m not easily overwhelmed by crowds. Of course I’d heard stories of Bombay’s population and its load of transportation but living it was more than I bargained for when I said ‘Aaj kuch toofaani karte hai’.

Added to the general discomfort of having to smell other people’s armpits and a whole collection of perfumes, the menace of having to deal with eunuchs is an ever present threat while on a train in the city. Of course, then there is the fear of getting thrown off the train or finding that your wallet has been picked off while you were trying to hang on for dear life while simultaneously avoid throwing up on people who will probably actually throw you off the train for doing that.

But, the trains do get you where you where you need to go. The problem is not the destination, but the journey.

Taxis

Image Courtesy: Google Images.

I don’t mean to generalize here but taxi drivers are everywhere have the tendency of doubling up as tourist guides and showing outsiders the sights of the city even if it takes them out of the most direct way to your destination. The difference is that in other places you might not have to pay as much as say… the railway ticket from Gujarat to Goa to go from Bandra to Andheri.

While I was there, it was imperative that there was a functioning GPS in at least one phone to make sure that we reached the destination without having to write out a cheque instead of searching for loose change to pay the driver.

The good thing however is that taxi drivers actually follow the rules and don’t seat more than four people in the vehicle but that’s probably because the traffic police take their jobs very seriously there. And yes, taxi drivers will not always turn down the meter when you tell them your destination. They will first think about it and then they can and probably will refuse to take you there after much deliberation, leaving you stranded with on the road with the knowledge that three other taxis already passed you while the driver was making up his mind.

Traffic

Image Courtesy: Google Images.

For those of you who live in a city not as big as Bombay, you have to see the traffic to believe what I’ve experienced. I’ve seen traffic jams as long as half a kilometre or more but the situation in this city is altogether on another level. Lack of sleep and excitement at wanting to explore the city meant that I slept more hours in a taxi than I did in a bed in the span of one week. Unbelievable? Believe it!

And this is just the situation on normal days. Weekends and matches at the Wankhede stadium take this madness to extremity. God help you if you are loathe to walk, because there is absolutely no point travelling by any sort of automobile when Bombay gears up for the weekend. I’m sure that an aerial photograph of any intersection or Chowpatty beach on a weekend will show up as an ants nest, it’s that bad.

And yeah, good luck getting anywhere on time. Not going to happen.

But unlike Gujarat, where everything needs to be done with a straight head; in Bombay, tequila is happy to help. Yeah, that said, ‘Don’t drink and drive’.

Besieged on a Train

They came carrying the wind in the tails of their dresses. Claps of thunder announced their arrival and the threat of assault assuaged and permeated the beings of almost everyone but the strongest of will as the wheels of the train turned once more. We knew that we were helpless against them at least till the train came to a stop again and that wasn’t going to be anytime soon.

Trapped!

They moved from coach to coach, seat to seat, identifying their targets, sizing them up. Shifting uncomfortably under their gaze, travellers tried to hold their composure. Only a few succeeded. A few regulars along this route had faced this threat before; many hadn’t. They hardly knew how to react. They had only heard stories of them doing unimaginable “things” to those who didn’t acquiesce to their demands. To face this threat in reality was a completely different ball game. They were living the horror they had smirked at in the confines of their homes. They weren’t finding it so funny now.

As the dreaded ones came upon this shifty bunch of travellers, they saw just the back of some heads and the petrified faces of others through their kohl-smeared eyes that bored through everyone as if in disgust; or was it anger?

The travellers knew what they wanted and few who wished to avoid confrontation just paid them what they could. Others didn’t. Whatever reasons they might have had, they never revealed, instead just turning their faces to look out the window or at each other in supposedly knowing anticipation of what was to follow.

The invaders didn’t take rejection quite well.

Shouts and screams emanated from the coach, punctuated with sobs and claps and o someone eavesdropping, the clamour would have probably sounded like a massacre in progress.

They had taken what they had come for. They always did.

Image Courtesy: www.desertusa.com

This is what usually happens on almost all trains that pass through Maharashtra from Gujarat. People get terrorized by these violent groups of eunuchs who literally demand money from passengers as if it were their right to get paid – just for asking. And if they are not paid, they start screaming, hitting people and in worst case scenarios, even expose their genitals before those who don’t pay up.

They mostly harass men and especially behave very badly with labourers who hardly earn enough for their own bread, much less pay them. It is my personal experience where I’ve seen gangs of these thugs climb aboard and beat up innocent travellers who don’t wish to pay these ruffians.

There’s even more.

There are a number of groups of these thugs who climb aboard a rain at different stations and leave before the next gang climbs aboard. I’ve actually witnessed five gangs come through the train I was travelling in at one point of time. It was the most harrowing experience I’ve had in a train.

Image Courtesy: www.mid-day.com

Now I know that eunuchs are discriminated against and that they don’t get jobs and then this is what happens. But this does not mean that innocents have to suffer for the failure of the system and that the all of them should be blamed for the actions of a few rotten eggs. When asked to comment on this situation, the Public Relations Officer of the Western Railways said that this problem was bound to remain till the government doesn’t resolve whose jurisdiction it is to deal with these miscreants.

And so, even the Indian Railways believes that this problem is not going to be solved anytime soon.

Bon voyage!

The Berlin ‘Divar’ in India

I visited Goa this December, five years since I’d last been there. Lot of development, lots of new things, improvements in infrastructure but one thing had remained the same; its charm.

How many ever times I visit Goa, it never is boring and even though I’ve visited a lot of places in numerous vacations, no place has ever given the feeling of being at peace like Goa has. Goa today is a tourist hub like none other and one can see people not only from the various states of India, but also from around the world flocking to this former Portuguese colony to marvel at the amalgamation of the West and the East. And then there are Gujaratis, they just go to Goa to drink… with alcohol being prohibited in the land of Gandhi’s birthplace and all.

So, with this entire hullabaloo *hic* and crowd *hic* and everything else *hic*, how can Goa afford me with the peace and quiet that I need?

I go to the villages.

Divar island.

Every time I go to see my relatives spread out throughout the state and some of them live in villages but this time it was different. I went to an isolated little island called ‘Divar’. I wouldn’t be surprised if you haven’t heard of this place. It is a small island with a population of around 300 families, 3 churches, 0 hospitals, 0 bridges and 0 tourism… Beautiful!

Zero Hospitals! Unbelievable? Believe it. They just have a small healthcare centre on the island and they have to make do in that. With three churches on the other hand, I guess they just pray that nobody falls seriously ill at night. Well, they can be taken to the mainland if that happens right? Wrong! If you’ll kindly refer above, you’ll notice they have zero bridges connecting them to mainland Goa. The ferries that operate on the river Mandovi and the open sea do so only till 11:00 pm. After that, they’re on their own and if you’re stuck there as a tourist, too bad because there aren’t any hotels as far as I was informed.

Considering that the name of these people’s island is ‘Divar’ which means ‘wall’ in Hindi, I guess they really are on the other side on the (Berlin) Wall.

But it’s not like the government of Goa hasn’t done its part for this island. Locals told me that the state government did propose a bridge but the people voted against it in a referendum that the government agreed to honour. One would wonder why these people would be against development of their own area but for the people, the equation is pretty simple.

Bridges = Hotels

Hotels = Tourism

Tourism = Nuisance

Hence, No Bridges.

The people see how the rest of Goa is intoxicated with tourism and in fact a lot of people on the island are also employed by the tourism industry but they want their island to remain pristine, quiet and peaceful in order to continue living there as they have for centuries now. And the government seems to understand that.

So, Divar was, is and hopefully will remain the El Dorado with more green than gold in its streets.

Oh, and by the way, they have this huge crib making competition every year for Christmas. To how you the scale of the crib, here it is with a human for comparison.

A Crib on Divar island.

The Ten Rupee Tantrum

Image Courtesy: Google Images.

Have you seen people go nuts when their money goes missing? It is obvious that large sums of money end to cause problems when they disappear but it is absolutely hilarious when people raise a hue and cry for meagre amounts of money that they don’t care about any way. My mind, in its infinite wisdom scoffs at such people and I’m sure you too might have had such an occasion yourself.

I’m writing this post from the state transport ‘super deluxe’ bus because this is the scene of the event and I’m bringing it live to you ‘on the way’ to Ahmedabad. Now, we have these intercity ‘superfast’ buses that have a driver but no conductor (job cuts affect the public sector too). Before, one could just sit in the bus and buy the ticket on the way to the destination but not now! Now, you’ve got to buy the ticket before the bus leaves because the conductor gets off the bus.

Enter: The Woman.

The bus is about to leave and she is the last one to climb aboard just as the bus is about to leave.. the conductor climbs aboard for her and gives her a ticket. Since the bus is already late, the driver and conductor are both in a hurry. The conductor gives her ten rupees less in the change he hands back and leaves the bus as it it rolls on to the highway.

The Woman realizes ten seconds too late that she got ten rupees less and muttered round about ten swearwords at ten generations of the conductor’s family before asking the driver to stop the bus and get back her money. As if that was going to happen…

So halfway into the journey at the rest stop, she again asked the driver about her ten rupees and what he was going to do about it. The driver said he was going to do nothing about it, wore his killer shades and put the bus into first as we started for Ahmedabad again.

However, one or two other passengers either took an interest in her story or were making a fool out of her; they asked her about the issue. She, the poor victim, recited the whole story as it happened but very conveniently keeping the amount of money ambiguous so as not to give her new found sympathizers a chance to scoff at her ridiculousness like the driver and this funky guy with the laptop were doing. So, when her sympathizers thought that the conductor didn’t return fifty rupees, she didn’t even correct them, instead going with the flow and playing the hapless victim to perfection. By the end of the hour, she had lamented so much that she herself must have believed that she had been conned out of fifty rupees instead of ten.

But it isn’t nice to make fun of this woman. She probably needs attention from people around her.

Oh wait! A development!

The sympathizer turned out to be a driver himself and actually called up a conductor or two and found the ‘guilty one’. He made him aware of his mistake and actually reprimanded him on the phone. He then paid the woman fifty rupees that he believed she was owed and the woman took it! 

No reluctance, no shame, only forgiveness in her eyes as she looked right into sympathizer’s eyes and took the money.

I feel like clapping at her brilliant performance but I think silence is of more benefit since it offers a better view of the stage in this play.

Driver! That's my stop!

The World in Goa

Goa is the land of beaches, is situated in the lap of nature and is steeped in history that is inclusive of both Indian and Portuguese culture. Well that is an understatement actually because over the years, as Goa has increasingly developed as a tourism hotspot, she has amalgamated cultures from all over the world and accepted them as her own. In the heart of Goa, I can truly see the world!

People from everywhere come to Goa to enjoy her sandy seashores, soak up her sunshine and devour her savoury sausages. Travellers from the UK, France, Germany, USA and Russia are a common sight here, mingling with the locals and even speaking a little bit of Konkani to get into the Goan spirit. A lot of shops in the bustling markets of Mapusa and Panjim have signboards inscribed with English, Konkani and Russian as well. It goes to show how well the state has learned to cope with the influx of foreign tourism of which they seem to have an endless flow throughout the year.

Calangute beach, Goa, India

‘Atithi Devo Bhava’ is a slogan that is close to the Indian heart. As hosts, we attempt to be most gracious and welcoming, for that is what we have been taught through the ages. And I saw the best example of this Indian hospitality in Goa. We travelled in city buses everywhere since we wanted to get to really ‘see’ Goa. The conductors in those buses, when they realized that we were tourists, kept asking us to take seats that weren't occupied. They kept asking us please be seated. It was… new and a very refreshing attitude. I now know another reason why tourism is at such a high in Goa, its people.

Since we went there for Christmas, we were invited to a house for Christmas lunch and I didn't feel detached from my family here in Gujarat at all. It was as if our hosts were our own, so freely did they mingle with us, talking about everything from cuisine and culture to national and international politics over single malt scotch. They served us a mix of Portuguese and traditional Goan cuisine that I had not tasted in a very long time. Christmas really feels how it should in Goa. Fabulous!

There is no dividing line between western and eastern civilizations in Goa. National borders blur when everyone is just trying to have a good time and relax. Religion, race and colour refuse to be barricades in this wonderful place and perhaps that is why Goa feels like the last bastion of world unity in India. Identities are not important, nor are languages. People speak with smiles here and that is what enamours anyone who ventures into this land.

There is a saying in Goa that people very rarely go hungry at night but are never denied a drink. This does not mean that liquor is very important here, it only goes to show the generosity of the people here. If someone is standing outside a bar, it is not possible that nobody will buy that person a drink. It does not in any way imply that the people are drunkards; it is to say that these people enjoy the good things in life and help others enjoy it too.

This is my toast to Goa, the place where the World is One entity and lives and breathes as One soul.

Viva Goa!

The Horror-Coaster named BRTS

For those of you who are not aware, BRTS is a public transport system that stands for Bus Rapid Transit System. It is an exclusive system of transport since it runs on its own track that is built in the middle of all the major roads of a city. It has its own platforms, dedicated service routes, rapid availability and is given priority at crossroads. Oh and yes, more than half the buses are air conditioned since it can get pretty hot here in Gujarat, yeah very hot.

Image Courtesy: Google Images.

Leaving the fact that having two public transport systems running on the roads here in Ahmedabad creates havoc with traffic since the police just seem concerned with fining people without helmets; let me get to the point. I had the opportunity to travel in the BRTS on a Sunday evening at peak hour. Here is a timeline of what happened that evening:

08:00 pm: We reach the nearest BRTS platform, buy our ticket and wait for the bus which should have come with 10 minutes.

08:30 pm: The first bus in half an hour arrives with at least 50 people crammed into it. We get into it nonetheless because we don’t want to wait another half hour for the next one.

08:45 pm: We both get separated inside the bus with people jostling to get in and out at the biggest crossroads we stop at. My friend panics since it’s her first time in public transport. She pleads with her eyes for me to stand next to her.

08:55 pm: I finally manage to get her next to me after seizing an opportunity while people were getting down at a stop. She is relieved, a LOT.

08:59 pm: We get off to change buses at a junction where two routes intersect. We breathe in open air after 29 minutes.

09:01 pm: Fortunately, the next bus arrives ‘Rapidly’ and we climb on despite of it brimming with people – again.

09:06 pm: People are swaying from side to side as our apparently drunk driver kept swinging the vehicle into turns that Schumacher would be proud of. I had to literally put both of my hands on either side of my friend and brace myself on the holding bars to prevent falling over her and others the next time he stopped the bus.

09:12: pm: The driver stopped the bus – not at a platform or because of traffic at crossroads, but because our bus had run out of diesel! Unbelievable! And the worst part is that commuters were not even informed of the same. He just pulled over and got off the bus to talk to another driver who had stopped ahead of us.

09:20 pm: it was only after he climbed into his seat and started the bus that he let us know that the bus had run out of fuel and that he’d had to borrow some from the other bus.

09:23 pm: The bus stopped so violently that almost all the people standing in the aisle went tumbling to the floor and some even from their seats. Fortunately I had braced myself so well that my friend and I managed to stay on our feet. There was an immediate uproar among those who had fallen. People accused the driver of being drunk and even threatened to complain about him at the next platform and have his license revoked.

09:24 pm: Passengers up front attempt to convince those in the back that a bicyclist had tried to cross the road in front of the bus and had the driver not stepped on the brakes, he would have been run over. The bicyclist was wearing sunglasses – in the night – I saw it!

09:25 pm: Enraged passengers get off the bus at the very next platform and try to get the driver to get off the bus so that they could possibly beat him to pulp but he managed to start the bus and we were on our way again. One good thing that came out of this mess was that everyone was alive and the bus was relatively empty for the rest of the way.

09:30 pm: we finally reached our platform and got off the bus with a sigh of relief that I hadn’t let out in a very long time.

It took us exactly one and a half hour to get to a place where it would have taken just 45 minutes to reach at the most, had we used our own vehicles. And it would have been without all the unsavoury incidents that took place along the way.

Talk about a memorable Sunday!


My friend Shruti Chaturvedi also wrote a hilarious piece on the BRTS recently, you can read it here: The BRTS.

Passenger Problems

On the way back home for my semester break, I found myself in a ramshackle bus with smelly interiors and rowdy passengers who even spoke on their phones for the whole bus to benefit from their conversation. That’s what I get for not pre-booking the ticket.

But all this was alright, even the fact that I reached home after five hours instead of the usual four. But the thing that almost broke my calm demeanour was this one passenger. This one passenger who got under everyone’s skin and almost got hammered, but for the legendary lazy siesta time that my state is famous for. It might be unbelievable but the only reason that passenger didn't get a slap or two for his attitude was because nobody wanted to take the trouble to go hit him. Now, as to what made him so hated in the bus. This man, who was travelling with his wife and teenage son, kept talking loudly to both of them despite the fact that the rest of the passengers were watching the movie being screened. He then screamed at the conductor of the bus to reduce the volume of the film since it was disturbing him. He then proceeded to shout obscenities at a co-passenger who happened to oppose his view of the volume. Wow! How self-centred can one be? Agreed that the journey was not very comfortable and that the movies weren't exactly the better part of Hindi cinema but that doesn't mean one can just look past everyone else’s problems and think no end of oneself.

It is not often that one meets such people that are so selfish that they cannot look past their own comfort. But there are always those who are not ready to compromise or let go. Those, who cannot bear to be in a problem out of which they cannot escape. They will go to any lengths to save themselves, even if that entails climbing over others in order to do so. People in similar predicaments mean nothing to them as long as they have an easy way out. They will only help others if it furthers their own ends, albeit grudgingly.

There is only one way to deal with these people and that is to wait and watch. I believe that time and karma will play their part eventually and what has gone around will one day come back around and bite them on their gluteus maximus.

Till then, just put up your legs, lie back, listen to their skewed opinions of the world and chuckle to yourself.

The Search for Home

Living in another city, away from home has its pro and cons. Well, more pros and fewer cons, oh wait, or is it the other way around? Anyway, once you’re adjusted, it’s pretty alright if you can compromise with certain things like food, water, weather conditions and the people. There are other factors too but chief among all is the need for shelter – A roof over one’s head. And incidentally, that’s the hardest thing to find nowadays. Especially for a bachelor, a spinster or both together.

First of all, people don’t trust young people even a single iota. They seem to be damn sure that there’s going to be rave parties and naked people and rapes and orgies and that they will one day bring the police down on them. They seem to be particularly wary of engineering and medical students, I don’t know why.

Speaking of trust, foreign students have an even tougher time finding residence and only God help those who come from the Middle East; their life is basically hell if they don’t find host parents or hostel accommodation. People, at least in India are very wary of people from Pakistan, Afghanistan, Iraq and Iran because to them, all these countries are synonymous with terrorism. Anyone and everyone from this side of the continent is not trustworthy and have basically come over to bomb the hell out of a railway station or market. Now I know this sounds bad but wait, there’s more. They will be refused gas lines, be kept watch over and be tracked just because some maniacs are bent on creating hell on Earth.

Then, there is also the factor of the ‘Great Indian Middleman’. The broker is an important piece of the puzzle that is home searching. It is nearly impossible and high improbable that you will find something suited to your needs without the help of a broker. If you do, you’re in luck, but I wouldn't depend on it. The broker will charge around the same amount as the rent, so you end up paying double. But is that it? NO! The homeowner will take three times the rent as insurance in case you cause damage. So if you’re a student without a job and nobody to support you, you’re broke.

The area problem is another hurdle that not many can overcome. Rents differ from area to area and it is hard to find a suitable accommodation which is near to essential areas and affordable at the same time. There is compromise to be made most of the time.

Hence, as you will probably deduce from my first hand experience, living outside is not as hunky dory as you presumed in your sweet world of fantasy. So think twice!

Into the August Rains…

If you live in India, you’ll know that the month of August is filled with religious and cultural occasions and thus there are holidays galore, in both; offices as well as educational institutes.  I believe it was during one of these August holidays that the five of us had gathered in our apartment.

It was about twelve in the afternoon and we had just been awakened by PD and NG banging on the door. We let them in and they promptly passed smokes all around as a good morning gesture. How thoughtful! But since we were already awake and there was no point thrashing them, we lit up and ordered tea from downstairs. We settled in for a lazy day and were wondering what to do. JJ was just flipping channels on the TV, hoping for a good Malayalam or Telugu movie to be aired. I was about to get my laptop out and start working and RW was still in his blanket, half sleeping and half muttering obscenities at being woken up so early on a holiday.

Five hours later we were still deciding what to do when PD proclaimed that he could “borrow” his father’s Honda City for the day, since his Dad was on a trip to the friendly, neighbourhood dragon-country. That got our attention and we all sat looking at him with the expectation of puppies hankering for another bone. He then suggested that we take a cruise to the next city and visit a place that served killer milkshakes, and by killer, I mean Killer.

Now you might think, “Another city for a milkshake?” “That’s crazy!”

But that’s only because you might not have tasted that particular milkshake nor might have you experienced the joy of driving miles on an open highway with the four guys you trust with your life.

So the plan was made, the car was “borrowed”, the shorts were worn, the shirts were put on, the wallets were checked for inklings of cash, the car was checked for inklings of petrol… and we were off!

As soon as we were clear of the city and clear on to the highway, we rolled down the windows to a slight welcome drizzle, which added to the flowery fragrance in the car. The mixture of the two was like the fragrance of the soil that is experienced in open fields during rains. It was heavenly! And, it also helped ward off the smell of the cigarette smoke that was being puffed out by the ton inside the vehicle.

PD then put on the music system that had a CD of all our favourite sound tracks that included, “Pyaar hume kis mod pe le aaya”, “You are my Cinema”, “Californication”, “Rain over me” and so on. The loud music, along with the smoke and the fragrance of wet earth in the car took us higher than the ‘Empire State’, (if you know what I mean). We were in and remained in a ‘State of Trance’ till we reached our destination and then we only came to our senses when we piled out of the car and got drenched in the downpour that had begun.

As we ran into the milkshake parlour, I exclaimed, “That was the best road trip, EVER!”

This post is written as part of the Ambipur "Perfect Road Trip" Competition.

The Paradise Paradox

I just returned from a trip to the state of Jammu & Kashmir. As advertised, it is the most beautiful place I've seen in my life, but then again, I haven’t visited those many places to give a good comparative opinion. Anyhow, it’s very green, very cool, and absolutely breathtakingly beautiful. Well, at least rural Kashmir is. I say this because the urban areas are not what one expects. Perhaps some people do, but not all tourists who visit Kashmir for the first time expect military and paramilitary personnel manning posts every 20 feet along every road on Srinagar. It’s very disconcerting and makes one feel rather insecure, to say the least. Ironic, isn't it? There is indeed a reason for all that security there and I’m not saying that there shouldn't be; all I’m saying is that it doesn't go too well with the scenery.

It isn't just me, I think. It’s just human thinking that doesn't allow scenic and natural beauty to go right along with guns and grenades. What do you think? Would you like to see a beautiful valley with mountains and a river… and wait… tanks and guns and barbed wire? How paradoxical it is to see the beauty of God’s hand and the twisted violence of humanity in one place, almost welded together by the force of situation.

If you are a well traveled person, you can clearly see the difference between God’s two homes: Kerela, God’s own Country and Kashmir, Paradise on Earth.

In Kerela, it’s just beauty - pure, unadulterated beauty, albeit one with less English and no Hindi, but beauty nonetheless. At the same time, Kashmir has been ruined by conflict, hate, presence of the (clearly despised) CRPF and lack of proper infrastructure development. It is not only saddening to see the state of this place, but it is also a matter of great concern, for whatever the reasons, Guns & Roses cannot go together (yes, wordplay intended).

Since we’re on the topic, let me bring up another familiar discussion, that of Pakistan Occupied Kashmir (PoK). At times when I wasn't going around sight-seeing, I took the opportunity to talk to a number of people from different walks of life, about this situation. A lot of them were uncomfortable talking about this but a few people quite vocal about their thoughts, though they spoke about them in a roundabout manner. But that is justified, since we Indians are not unfamiliar to people being thrown in jail for speaking their minds. Well, about their thoughts, I’ll give you a dialogue I had with a horse rider in Gulmarg, here is what he said:

Rider: “Kahan se aaye ho?”

Me: “Gujarat se.”

Rider: “Oho, kem cho, majaama cho!” chuckles at his awesomeness. “Aap khushnaseeb ho ke aap                    aa sakte ho free mein Jannat (Kashmir) dekhne, goro (foreigners) ko toh visa lena padta hai!"

Me: “Haan bilkul.”

Rider: (To other rider) “Inshallah, jald hi hindustaniyon ko bhi visa lena padega.”

These words came as a complete shock to me. It was only later that I realized that a lot of people harboured the same feelings and a lot of hate towards the military stationed in their state. Another quick fact: PoK is known as Azaad Kashmir in the local tongue and I heard it being used many times in conversation.

I wish I could've stayed for some time more to understand the sentiments of the people and to get a feel of the real situation but since that was not possible, I returned; in a very disturbed and intrigued frame of mind.

Note: By this post, I do not mean to say in any way that the people of Kashmir are not patriots, neither am I trying to question their loyalty. I’m also not trying to defame the Indian army. I've just noted down what I observed and these are my personal views on the matter. Please also note that I’m not trying to incite hatred against any person, city, state, country or religion.

Rediscovery of the Old World.

Home - A place of rest and respite, there place where you go when you have nowhere else left to go. the place whose doors are always open to welcome you back.

Even though you may move on to bigger and better places, even though you might get settled there, even though you might enjoy your new home better than the old one, even though you might have better facilities there, even though it may be very convenient in all aspects… Someday you have got to go back home, to your city, to your roots, to YOUR place. It’s a thing deeply ingrained into the Indian psyche. We cannot, I think leave behind our own city for a new one, however better it may be, and even if we do, we like to come back once in a while and check things out for ourselves. Walk through the bazaars, stroll in the gardens, eat at the food-stalls and remark on the progress the village/town/city has made since we’d last been there.

I am exactly the same. I shifted to a new city three years back for better study opportunities and even though I loved my adopted city and hardly thought of home, there were days when I would miss my hometown so badly that I would just pack a single bag and hightail it back home over the weekend.

It’s like going on to discover the New World like Christopher Columbus. You land there, survey the place and feel, “This is good.” But after a while you’re like, “What’s going on at home?” That’s when you pack your bags, get a couple gifts for the Queen and sail right back into friendly ports. However decadent and war-torn the Old World may have become, it is still home and better than a few bags of potatoes and some tobacco. (If you know your history)

I studied for three years in Ahmedabad and now I'm back in Rajkot. I've realized the fact that wherever else I might choose to go, in the end I have to come back here. And it’s been a pleasure knowing my city again. In my first post, I wrote about returning to my city and wondering what to do. In case you were also wondering what I would do… I took the option of exploring my city again and I was quite surprised at the development that had taken place in the time that I was away. I learnt of things that were known to exist only in a Metropolitan and my eyes beheld such wonders that were not to be seen in the New World. I roamed in places that I knew not were even there and learnt so much in that one month that I was overwhelmed with awe for my own city, in which I earlier put not much stock.

I have even seen this tendency in a lot of Indians who live abroad. I'm not talking of those who were born of Indian parents in other countries, but first generation Indians who have migrated outside. I know of at least three such families who come to visit India every year. Even when I talk to some people who live abroad, they tend to miss their cities and wish to return, at least for a vacation, to stand on the land of their country, to feel the fragrance of her flowers, to taste the food of her hands and to sleep in her lap.

It feels really good to rediscover the Old World.