aditya kumar's weblog

Tourists to Goa are amazed by the beauty of the place. Actually, it’s not just the tourists who are amazed, it’s residents like me too.

It’s a privilege to live in Goa.

Most tourists do not realise, it is not just the beaches that make the beauty of Goa. One of the most important ingredients of the Goan experience is the neatness itself. There is an effort that the citizens and the Government collectively undertake to keep the cities clean and neat. I have lived in cities all over India and Panjim has to be the cleanest city I have ever seen. It is not that the municipality workers work overtime to make it what it is. It is an example of how a city could be, if residents take care of it.

And this effort, it has a name. It’s called “Together for Panjim“. It has worked for the city.

That is not to say that there is no scope for improvement. But mostly, it is a city you could photograph in any nook and corner and love the end result. Just like the pictures I took last month, which I post below.

My suggestion: If you really want to enjoy the city, don’t ride. Take time out and walk.

Meanwhile, the pictures:

This was written a couple of weeks ago, posted now

The family of four with whom I share my bay with, in the train, are strange, irritating people.

The two boys are noisy. They could be aged 3 and 5 years. I mean you expect kids to be noisy, it’s understandable for kids to be noisy but this noisy?

Then of course, there are the parents. Every now and then their mother, shouts at them to be quiet. In hindi, sometimes in English. Be quiet, be still, she insists albeit with little effect. Little effect for the kids that is, but her command carries a lot of effect since while shouting, she is louder than the kids. Its 10:30 in the night and if the kids fail to wake up the few sleeping passengers, she, with her “be quiet” and “chup raho” guarantees to leave a mark.

I get a feeling, these people always need to be in the midst of their comfort zone, no matter where they are. There are special clothes to be put on for sleeping, special sandals to be used while in the train. Special food, home made, of course. All this for a 12 hour journey. Dinner is served at 9:30 and it cannot be shifted an hour plus minus, so what if the train starts at 9pm.

The husband of the lady (alarmingly, it seems he is the head of the family), is another character. He needs to get into his “comfy” night clothes (bottoms, actually). What else could be ideal, than to wrap a bathing towel around oneself and change it right there, in the middle of half a dozen strangers? Why go all the way to the bathroom for that? He insists that the kid do the same. The kid, ashamed, resists but papa is always right says mom and bingo.

Morning time, the gentleman in his 60s, sleeping above me turns out to be an early riser. At 7am, he slams down and wakes me up. Sooraj aa gaya hai bhai, kab tak sona hai? One of those guys who are the preachy kinds and get some kind of pleasure in commanding others while being rude, especially to the younger lot. Something in me wants me to get up and bash this man up. Similar emotions were not evoked when last night he insisted to sleep at 10-30 while I was not ready for bed and yet I had obliged. This time too, I wake up and close the middle berth so that he can sit at the cost of my sleep. I need to show some resistance from now on.

The kids wake up too, much to the dismay of their mother who’s still snoring. The elder kid has an obsession for counting parallel rail tracks seen out of the window. The numbers increase and then decrease as tracks merge with each other, as if automatically and in motion, as seen from the window of a fast moving train. Hunger strikes and subsequently the kids are fed with potato chips and all the junk food that their parents, now awake, carry with them. Coffee cups, water bottles, empty snack packets – the place is littered in no time. I am trying to read my book but I really want to put it down, slam it on the small table and tell their father, that this is the time. That this is the age when you teach your children some manners because if you don’t, they will grow up to be bad citizens of this country, with no civic sense — just like their parents.

But I stare out of the window and I see two boys playing a game with ping pong bats and a badminton shuttle. Almost like badminton with ping-pong bats…It could be called Pong-inton…

Then the kid throws a bottle of water on the table, there is noise and then an even louder “STOP IT” scream and I am back at where I was…

Few pictures taken while I travelled to Ratnagiri for a day. Some have been taken during the 6 hour train journey, some in the town vicinities. Your comments, as always, welcome.

I have visited Chennai twice in the past 14 months (and all my life) without visiting the beach. The Marina beach, the famous coastline that extends a massive 12 kms. I have regretted, not walking on those sands but most people tell me that I have not missed much. Especially if you happen to be a west coast guy (which I am). And especially if you happen to be a Goa-westcoast guy (which, again, I invariably, am –you may say, such a spoiled child, I am)

I have travelled on the streets of Mumbai and a little in Chennai too. What I miss the most is the sea. Here you are, in cities that happen to be next to oceans but sadly and to my dismay, the sea does not makes its presence realise. You keep wandering around the city and no where does the sea come into picture. For all the roads I travelled, I could not even sense the feeling that I was near the ocean. Not even close to it. Yes, sweating could be a sign but then is that the kind of sign I am looking for?

So, for Mumbai it is the Marine Drive and for Chennai, I guess, it is the east coast road that shows you the sea. I could be wrong about Chennai since I have hardly spent time there. So I may have missed a big clue, maybe a long stretch that takes me along the sides of the water, within the vicinities of the city.

Why I look for these big clues is because I have spent so much time in Goa. Right from the moment I enter into the state, the ocean comes and goes, almost flirting with my sight. Seven years in Goa and I have been treated to exquisite beauty that no other place has had to offer.

Having dinner on the sand overlooking the sea, watching the boat’s lights in the night till it fades away while the lighthouse does its best, even when the navigation equipment nowadays ceases the need for a light tower — for me, it’s wonderful to even think about the place.

In Goa, for a day.

During the bus journey, a KSRTC Volvo bus, they started a kannada movie starring Upendra. It should only be obvious to expect a Kannada movie being played in a Karnataka state transport bus. Sadly, one north-Indian didnt realise it. Came forward, talked to the driver and asked him to change the movie. Of course, the driver frowned and uttered a few words that bounced off me.

The “change-the-movie-because-I-dont-understand-kannada” man was wrong. A mistake most of us make. When you are in a different land, it is actually not the land or the people that are different. It is you, who is different. So the question of them changing for your convenience should not even arise. So what should you do? as they say, Adjust madi. Not much, but swalpa. And if it is that inconvenient, learn the language.

The man should have realised, a little waiting could have done him good. As it turned out, the Upendra movie turned out to be a true copy of the Shahrukh Khan starrer, Baazigar.

In one of the narrow main roads of Vasco, Goa, our car driver tries to unsuccessfully overtake a van. While doing so, the car is high on speed and on the wrong side of the road. The driver brakes hard and in the process gives a “Stop/Slow down” sign to the car fast approaching towards us. The other car slows down and in a few moments we are back on the correct side of the road. While crossing each other, the two drivers, in a seemingly rare gesture smile at each other and show a thumbs-up sign. Our driver, as if, thanking his counterpart on the other side, for his patience.

God, will I ever get to see something like this in Bangalore…or for that matter, anywhere else in India?

By the way, its a delight to be here at this time of the year. It’s green all over!

This post, written on the 6th of June, posted tonight.

Now, to talk about Delhi.

First of all, I think a lot of people don’t know that I am from this city :P Though I have not stayed here much, I have done a substantial part of my schooling from Delhi (5 years) and have visited this city every year for the last 24 years. (Apart from a period while I lived here for 6 years, that is). So I, kind of, know this place.

I have seldom mentioned about my Delhi connections on my website.

I went ‘exploring’ the city today, all by myself. I went to Connaught Circus/Place and I must mention, that it is the only other place in India that reminds me so much of the fountain area in Bombay. The pavement book-sellers, the cloth merchants, the water-vendors, the snack-sellers, the list does not seem to end. Of course, this time around, there were a few surprises. In my 30 minutes walk around the place, I came across two McDonalds restaurants (or were they three?) and one KFC. Three American junk-food restaurants, packed to the maximum, within a radius of one kilometer. See, this is the kind of foreign invasion we are dealing with here. That is, of course, if you think of it as a foreign invasion.

New Delhi has changed. More for the better than for the worse. The better: The roads are wider, the city is flaunting its gleaming new metro rail, the new fly-overs keep welcoming the traffic. The worse: Delhi has less power, lesser water, as always. And yes, the people are ruder. Sorry guys, I think you really need a crash course in politeness.

Now that I have mentioned the ‘gleaming’ new Metro rail, more on it has to be impending. The Metro, I feel, could be termed as the capital’s pride. I liked the fact that its actually not running empty. It was full capacity during my short afternoon journey from “Rajiv Chowk” to “Chandni Chowk”. More than the fact that it is a top quality product, I think to complete the work schedule on time, cutting the red-tapism is in itself, is a bigger, better achievement. This is how plans should work. If you think about it, its a simple thing. It is nothing but a plan that has worked right on schedule. If this is what it can do for one city, the possibilities could be endless.

Evening, I watched “Da Vinci Code” at PVR Rivoli. Every old cinema hall nowadays has a “PVR” prefixed to its name. Put in good interiors, add a little polish, a little ‘garnish’ and sell the tickets for Rs.200. Coming back to the movie, what a waste. No, not just the money. I am talking about Tom Hanks. You don’t need Hanks to play the role of Langdon. How to play Robert Langdon? Just keep popping your eyes in curiosity, appear to think all the time, keep mumbling to yourself, say “code” most of the time and keep listening to Sophie. Heck, even Tom Cruise could do it!

I feel the urge to go to the sea every few months. Two weeks ago, on a friday afternoon at work, I decided to go “somewhere”. Anywhere. Preferably, somewhere near the sea. I thought of going to Mangalore. Though I realised that getting a deluxe/volvo bus ticket just a few hours prior to the journey on a weekend is one highly improbable thing, I still gave it a try and to my surprise, I managed to get a ticket to Mangalore.

By the time I had the ticket in my hand, the only thing certain was that I would be in Mangalore by 7 am, next day. What I would do after that, I had no idea.

Since Mangalore and Udupi are nearby, I decided to visit Udupi. There were two reasons for that. First, I wanted to visit the famous Krishna Mutt and second, I wanted to have authentic Udupi cuisine. From there, I could catch the Konkan route train to Goa and then take the monday train back to Bangalore.

Of course, I did not have any train tickets. If you stay away from home for eight years and travel alone, you learn to make plans like that.

Once I reached Udupi at around 8:30 in the morning, the first step was to book the ticket to Goa for the afternoon train leaving Udupi at 4 pm. While putting the unconfirmed ticket in my wallet, I realised it already had 3 old rail tickets. Flattened now. One Vasco-Bangalore second class sleeper. One platform ticket, Bangalore railway station. One Bombay local train ticket. These are travel declarations and they have their own stories to tell.

Udupi is a small town, one of the last towns on the Konkan belt. The railway station is a little off the city, but like all Konkan Railway stations, its clean and very well maintained. A sign informs me, hinting a sense of pride within, that all the water served on the station is UV treated. Indeed, an achievement.

The Blessing of Udupi

The city’s biggest and the only tourist attraction is the Krishna Mutt. Its as if the city is aware of the fact. Every auto-driver expects the Mutt to be the ultimate destination of each visitor. I meet one such auto-driver and without much effort, reach the mutt.

I rent a room, take it for a day even though I know I would be leaving the city by late afternoon. Freshening up and taking a little nap is on my mind. That is what I precisely do before I head downstairs for the Krishna temple. Crowds gather at the entrance, as expected. The place is well-maintained, well-managed. Albeit a little surprising that even in this huge crowd, the calmness prevails. The Sarovar, a pool of green water, is a beauty to take a look at. I break my fast with the meal offered and its time to go.

The Sarovar at the temple

At Diana Circle, I achieve my second objective. The Diana restaurant is one of the oldest restaurants in the city. Having a masala-dosa there is of prime importance since I want to know if it is only the Bangalore-udupi restaurants that put the red-chatni in their version of the masala-dosa or is it a part of the real thing. As it turns out, the entire thing does look like what they serve in the name of Udupi cuisine in Bangalore but the familiarity ends there. The taste is entirely different, untreaded territory and what not. Second objective achieved. And how.

By 2 pm, I am back at the station, waiting patiently for Matsyagandha Express to arrive from Mangalore. I have almost a couple of hours to spend there. I (try to) feed the two kittens I find there, give them milk and bread. Only that the kittens refuse to oblige. In those two hours, not one train passes by, though the frequency of trains on this station is as good as any station on the Konkan route.

The view that I get throughout the journey, my third on this track, is such that it makes it a sin, to travel without a digital camera. I make the most of what I have. Its peak summer but the rivers are full, the backwaters lovely and the greens are inviting. Trust me, when you travel here and you see what I saw, you don’t need any book, you don’t need any music.

All you need is the Sun spraying yellow rays on the layers of various shades of the Green below. That is all.

Peace

The Backwaters

“Look at the star, look how it shines for you, it’s all Yellow”

Hope you liked the photos. Comments, as always, welcome.