The dream of a better India

I live in a country that is growing too fast for comfort for the previous generation. It is also growing too slow for the present generation. I live in India, a country where in if you look closely, all you will find is segregation: caste, economic status, the urban-rural divide for a start. 


'Entreprenuership' is the new buzzword in the country with most young fresh graduates opting for a course in management degree to give shape to their budding ideas and dreams of making it big in India Inc. and outside. The sky-high inflation, or the RBI's i-can't-breathe tight monetary policies are little deterrent to the winged dreams of our nation's youth. 


It is true that we have come a long way since 1993, but I think we still have a long way to go. The private sector is quite lucky (well, almost) that it doesn't employ the pervasive bureaucracy that our once-socialist government did. However, it still has to jump through multiple hoops to get things done. There still is a ringmaster. The whole world is calling upon on our nation for a second wave of major reforms. There are still many conditions on companies investing in India. Some sectors are out of reach! Retail, for example, is not available for FDI. Why? Because local players would find it tough to compete and survive in the market? How long are we going to be afraid of competition and live in our own tiny little shells, no matter how good and safe we feel about it? Isn't this denying the consumers of better products and service? 


Ours is not a country with radical thoughts. We are growth-oriented. It is important that this is visible in every policy that is introduced in this country. There has been a lot of talk about corruption in our country. Mr. Hazare, with the noblest of thoughts took up the gargantuan challenge of bringing back the money stashed abroad and setting up a parallel government to control the government. While it may have been done with the best intentions at heart, as a nation, we must think of the repercussions such actions would have on the economy. Injecting that amount of cash into an economy already reeling with inflation might make matters worse. You may rubbish this thought calling me too naive, perhaps.


Also, having a parallel government may not be the sustainable way going forward. Who elected the 'corrupt' leaders again and again to their posts? Us! Democracy is a power we have. Lets us use it. We are not ignorant any more. We have electronic media. Twitter messages reach people faster than earthquakes. Let us put the communications/technology to good use and change the way the world looks at us. Today, India is considered an economic force to reckon with and yet,  when foreigners visit us, they take 'black and white' images of slums for the 'real' India.


Instead of having a self-proclaimed set of 'clean' people on top of the government, wouldn't it be more prudent that the people elect better leaders?After all, we got ourselves into this mess. Let us get ourselves out of it. In my state, when an IAS officer formed a political party and spoke pure sense in the State Assembly, he received minimum support. People wanted to bring their own 'peddanna' (big brother) to power. And then, when the power goes out, the roads are water-logged, farmers commit suicides, we blame the government. We are not a part of monarchy and dynastic rule. People must earn the right, trust and respect to be a part of the government. They are not born with it. The right to vote is not merely a right. It is a power vested in the common man to determine his fate, and in turn, his country's.


The generation X, as we are called, knows how the world outside works. We also know what exactly we want. Our taxes are among the highest in the world. Our fuel rates are among the highest in the world. It is only appropriate for us then, to raise our voice and ask why we do not have better, if not the same as the western, living conditions. When these questions fall on deaf ears, it results in the much publicised brain-drain. Who is to blame? It is difficult to answer this. 


The answer to our national problem of restrained growth is multi-pronged. First of all, as humans, we must have a conscience and feel responsible for our own actions. It must prick when the clerk at the local RTO okays the registration of an unsafe truck by accepting a bribe. This has to happen at the individual level. Of course, it would appear next to impossible that such a change ever happens, if it does. Only collective effort will result in any noticeable growth or change in the way we or other perceive of our nation. 


As always, let us hold on to hope and continue to do our best! Vande Maataram!

Memoirs now, memoirs forever

The monsoon of 2011 has been a turbulent season. Well, not so much with the amount of rains lashing the beautiful landscape of southern part of Karnataka, but with me in particular. It has been a little over six months since I got back from the Promised Land. Promises that were made were kept truthfully. I should have asked for more. Rookie mistake I suppose.

As Varuna sprinkles our holy land with blessings and the rain clouds glide over the mighty Western Ghats and sweep the rugged plains of the Deccan Plateau, I cannot help but reflect over the happenings in the last half year or so. I got what I wanted. What I wanted was to be back in India and here I am. But, I am confused: as confused as a monkey with a coconut. (No offence monkeys, in case one of you is reading this. To humans, no pun intended) I know I’ve got something good, I just don’t know what to do with it, yet. However, with the passing clouds overhead and the occasional peep the Sun is stealing, it seems indeed that the ‘dark cloud’ is moving on.

While it may seem grossly brazen, allow me to change the subject to something more with a human touch. As an undergraduate student, I always dreamt of wearing formal clothes, donning shiny shoes and having formal dinner conversations while sipping champagne. Some of these came true. I also couldn’t wait to get out of my parents’ house and live an ‘independent’ life. Many ideas, if not all, around me seemed imposing, anachronistic and plainly meaningless. It has been 40 months since and I now stand corrected. Before you opine, let me agree with you that writing about family bonds would be merely epitomizing what comes naturally to most of us. However, what I wish to express is much beyond that.

The idea of an independent life is rather convoluted. Man cannot be independent. Acceptance is the basic need of a human being and in desiring that, he must shed the charade of calling himself independent. Owing to certain incidents with me and people around me, I have come to realize the importance of a family. I also realize that money is an important, if not vital, requirement of our lives. Once when my colleague equated, what she called the ‘greed’ of money with vice, I felt violated and amused at the same time. Lets not talk about that or my best bud Bruce, aka Karthik, wouldn’t be pleased. If his words are to be believed, when the topic is money, I turn into a monster, with red slits for eyes and fire for breath and drooling greed all over the place. I’m lucky I don’t believe him.

To continue what I started, today, I crave to spend a few days with my family. So, recently when I bumped into an opportunity to spend some time at home, I called my dad pronto and planned a road trip. A little father and son time on the country roads. 13 hours on the never ending spectacular SH17 of Karnataka and NH7 between Bangalore and Hyderabad (I know what you’re thinking. Yes, I drive slow). That is definitely something that I’m looking forward to and without a doubt, something that I will cherish my whole life. The last time I was on this road, the emotions were mixed. It was my first major drive in India and also, I was driving away from home after a 9-day stay. The drive back to Hyderabad in August is especially close to my heart for multiple reasons. Firstly, it will be dad and I, and then, its the drive that leads me straight home, and lastly, I get to spend some time at home after the long and arduous journey.

The degree to which I am excited or desperate about spending time at home surprises me mildly. This wasn’t how it was even during the initial days, when as a ground rule, kids miss home the first time they get out. The scariest part is even these once-in-a-coupla-months meetings are not forever. I have only just started realizing the importance of things around me and while I was under the banyan tree with a halo around my head, it struck me I was a quarter-century old and I’d better get my act together if I wanted something done the way I want it to be done.

I always thought breaking away from the monotonous is wonderful and yet extremely difficult given the comfort zone we develop around it. However, I have been lucky in getting an opportunity to work with a colleague who came, saw, and went soaring after his dreams belittling my already restricted ideas. And that moment set my dreams free. Aaah, the dreams! Aren’t they the best! Dreams that you see in sleep aren’t real, but the dreams that don’t let you sleep at night are the real deal.

Borders, Cultures and more...

A lot has happened since 27 June 2010, the day I last updated this page. I was asked to come back to Toulouse, France in August. It has been a wonderful stay here since then, for many reasons. This time, I chose (by chance) to stay with a French family. I knew it wouldn't be an easy thing, given the huge cultural differences, but looking at the fact that the family was more than willing to accept me into their house made things easier. I feel understanding a foreign culture would be so much easier if you spoke the language. My broken French comes to the rescue sometimes. I wish I could speak better. (but then, I also wish I drove a Mercedes C220 in Hyderabad. So, I guess its OK).

Being a part of this family has been 'un experience extra-ordinaire'. I thought I understood their culture, having worked with them for over a year the last time I was here. But then, working together is only half the story. Living with them isn't quite the same. (I'm not sure what smiley to use here) Don't get me wrong. They are wonderful people. But to an Indian, it would take some time to get adjusted. Every little thing in the house amazes me. Their food, their love for their language, the cleanliness (I work hard to cope with the high standards).. basically, everything.

the house is full of beautiful paintings like this one

The French are extremely social people. From what I've seen, they love hosting dinner parties. Let me state for the record, 'long' dinner parties. Twice a week, I find the house flooded with about 10 people in the evening and the lady working really hard to make sure everything is perfect. I try to help with whatever I can. Later in the evening, I'm seated at the table with these fine Europeans. Only if I could understand what they were saying! Most of the times, I stare at them hoping to catch a few words and make a meaningful sentence out of them. But by then, the joke is over, everyone has laughed and are waiting for me to laugh. Cultural difference, right up your nose. :D I have to admit, it is funny and it is wonderful. I'm same age as their kids, so that automatically means, an extra slice of apple pie at each party. :)

a wooden sculpture in the house

Last month, the house owners were on a vacation for a complete month leaving the house in the hands of strangers. I cannot imagine myself doing that. The amount of trust they have in people is unbelievable. At the same time, you are in for an earful if you forget to separate organic waste from the inorganic when using the trash can.

In one of the parties, I had an interesting conversation with one of their friends. The lady who was talking to me was interested in discussing India and how we were moving forward. She was amazed by how young Indians like us travel anywhere across the globe for work without much difficulty. It was difficult for her in particular, to comprehend how the image of our country changed so rapidly in the last decade. I sure was the proudest person in the room. Now, with Barack Obama's visit formalizing India as an emerged economy, I believe the West is looking East. I think instead of one country dominating the whole world, it will be an age of co-dependence.

I will be flying back to India by this month-end with a wonderful experience and memories I never expected. I'm so glad this opportunity came by or I'd have missed this unique and pleasant experience. Some things just happen....

Perilous Maneuvers

Some days are just not meant to go the way you plan them. 26 June was a particularly nasty one, with things actually going against us.

Right from the beginning, something wasn’t right. The plan was to drive down 90 Kms southwest from here to Nagarhole National Park. We were to drive our colleague’s car. As fate would have it, the dude developed an eye-infection that very morning. The car wasn’t available and neither was the guy. We couldn’t have canceled the trip: we’ve been planning it for too long.

coutesy: Monsieur Roy

So, the remaining three of us set out on bikes on the beautiful Mysore-Hunsur State Highway 88. Bad luck begins to slam us from here. We overshot the exit on the highway to the correct entrance to the park, by about 40 kms. Having no idea of the mistake, we kept on driving deeper and deeper into the forest. After having passed numerous tiny villages in the forest, we stopped at one of them just to make sure we were on the right path. (well, we weren’t) Incredulously, we were told the national park was a further 60 kms drive. It was unbelievable since we had already driven close to 85 kms from Mysore. Google Maps on the phone wasn’t working here. (Operators should stop advertising their ‘excellent’ coverage)

We didn’t know what to do. It was getting pretty late for the Safari that we had planned to go on. Going at this rate, we were sure to miss it. So, we continued on the same path. There was a broken road sign, dramatically bent and rusted, showing 34 kms to Nagarhole. It was against our calculations too, but we had no other option. We flew on the ghat road. It was dangerously narrow and surprisingly twisty. It was difficult to keep the vehicle on the road at all times at the speed at which we were driving. Knowing all the time that it was dangerous, we were speeding so as not to miss the Safari. This was when we started to feel that things weren’t going right. As if to complete our misery, it started raining. And the rain this down south is cold. Uncomfortably cold. The thought of spotting leopards and herds of elephants kept us going.

The check-post was within sight when tragedy struck. There was a sharp curve, a one like many others, but one that one of our bikes couldn’t negotiate. It resulted in the bike overshooting the road and skidding through the rainwater filled slush and throwing the rider and the pillion on to the road. The handle is twisted, the rear brake lever is mauled and the front brake lever is broken. More importantly, the guys are hurt. Bruised and shocked they got up and started checking if their cameras were alright. (geeks! I know) Now, the top priority job was to find first aid for the men and the bike, in this no-man’s land, in the middle of nowhere. A couple of nice people (of the neighboring village) offered us help and asked why we were here. We told them we were trying to go to Nagarhole. And then, they tell us that entrance to the park from this side is not allowed for two-wheelers. And we had to get back to the highway (50 kms in the opposite direction) and then drive all around the park and enter it from the southern side. Well, that decided it. We were now just gonna patch ourselves up and get back to Mysore and get a good sleep in warm blankets. The thought was painfully endearing. :)

First of all, finding a hospital in this wilderness was the major task. Surprisingly, there are villages this deep in the Western Ghats and one of them had a Government Hospital. The guys had their wounds dressed, before we proceeded to find another village, a bigger one, where we could find a mechanic to set the bike right. Now, we drove the bikes oh-so-slowly to the village and got the bike fixed while we grabbed something to eat. Being a vegetarian isn’t fun when you are in remote places and you are real hungry! A couple of more trips like this and that should be the tipping point for me. ;) After ‘lunch’ (flavored bread and soft drink), we started off to get back to Mysore. Since the trip had to be ‘complete’, it rained like it never rained before. Well, it wasn’t just rain. It was like tiny little bullets hitting us hard, painfully hard, drenching us and chilling our bones.

We tried to over speed in the rain (dangerous again, I know) hoping to move faster than the clouds that were raining upon us. It seemed to have worked, since after a long distance, it was just cloudy. Three bruised, battered, wet and sorry looking faces on two bikes emerged on the highway after what seemed like eternity. A stop at one of the coffee places on the highway and a hot cuppa brought some life back in our cold and tired limbs. We sat there and discussed how things worked out (or not) that day. We laughed at how the guys had a fall from the bike. Its strange how people can find cheer and hope in almost everything on earth. It in turn gives hope to me, in every sense. From there, a little over 40 kms drive brought us back home to Mysore. I’m just happy we all returned alive: Nature seemed to be bent on kicking our asses that day. Yes, the camera never came out, we spotted no animal, except for crows and we had been on the bike all day long.

After such an adventurous Saturday, today has been rather uneventful. I’m glad. :)

Looking forward to better (safer) trips in the future. Sure, this was one that goes into the permanent records, although I’d like some records in some other genres.

Coorg

What started off as a 40kms trip to the neighboring Srirangapatna, ended as a 250kms trip to not-so-close Madikeri, aka Coorg.The idea was to get out of the house, or the city, on the weekend and put it to good use. Hadn’t used the camera for a little while too. So, we figured going to the bird sanctuary would be a good idea. Although, I wasn’t sure if I had the right equipment to shoot birds. I wanted to make an effort anyway. Many inspiring people in the company you see. ;)

Waking up at 05h30 on a Saturday morning is a pain in the… well, most parts of the body.Stuffed the bag with essentials like the tripod, an extra lens and some filters and started off. And the moment we start the vehicle, I get an ‘idea’. :D I thought, why go on the Bengaluru highway again, lets take some other road. So, we took the Hunsur road. Now, we are cruising on the road, having no idea where to go or when to stop. I see some road signs with many cities on them. One was Madikeri (Coorg) 120kms. We decided it would be a good idea to drive down there, since it was quite early in the morning. Distance wasn’t an obstacle. :)

This was the first major trip for my FZ. It is one of the most radical designs in the Indian market, designed after its monstrous cousin in Europe. The tank-size is out of proportions and the rear tire is just too wide. It gives you a lot of confidence while cornering even at high speeds.

And so we are cruising. At one point after we were well out of Mysore and past some villages, there was a long stretch of road. It was a very interesting piece. It was as if the road took a plunge and then climbed back up in a straight line. Imagination took over and we pulled over the vehicle, setting up the tripod with the camera, posing away, the bike being a part of a regal background. Passers-by shot us with curious looks. I am often asked by people if I run a photo studio, courtesy: the tripod.

I repeat this each time, but I really think our roads aren’t safe. Forget the night times, even the day is pretty dangerous. People ought to respect others’ lives as much as they love their own. Being an optimist, I think it will be a long time before we see such a change.

After passing through numerous nameless villages and little towns, we reach the foothills of the Western Ghats, ready to ascend to Madikeri. The ghat road that leads up to the town is quite amazing. It is surprisingly wide, allowing you to bank at high speeds. Well, of course, while negotiating the turns, its your responsibility to watch out for vehicles coming in the opposite direction. There is no road divider you see. While riding up the hill, I thought of the descent and how much fun it would be. I wasn’t wrong.

After completing the 120+kms, with a couple of stops, we had reached the city center (well, lets call it that). Now, we had no idea what to do. Primarily because it was a totally unplanned trip. And then, you don’t go to Coorg looking for a particular thing or a place. You just go there, spend some time, relax and get out.

Oh yeah, forgot, you also have a coffee. Special Coorg Coffee. And since we had no idea what to do, after the arduous ride, and a tasteless breakfast, we had the coffee. Two cups. The first wasn’t strong enough. Now when people ask why we went to Coorg or what we did there, I just have one answer: To have a cup of coffee.

There was another tourist attraction quite close to Coorg. It was the Abbey Falls. Since it is peak summer, there wasn’t much water in the falls. Just a tiny trickle compared to what it is generally, after the rains. But, it was perfect for the kind of shot I wanted. When shooting, you always have certain ideas in your head. The lead-up to the falls is quite dramatic too. You park your vehicle somewhere in the valley and then you walk through dense forest trees for about 8mins to reach the falls. To my imagination, after the rains, you will hear the falls much before you see them, much like the Fountain of Trevi in Rome.

The camera is out, people ducked and some shots were fired. No one was injured. ;) But, everyone was curious as to what I was trying to do. Later, I realized that people were staring at me, because I had a frustrated look on my face. Was trying real hard to get the right shot. Got some ‘alright’ pictures there and moved on. The drive uphill wasn’t exactly fun, I could feel the vehicle cursing me for putting it such troubles at such a young age! After reaching back Coorg, we started off on the not-so-amazing part of any road trip. The drive back home. It was just after lunch time, the Sun was merciless.

We had to take some major breaks on our way back, to fight dehydration. Reaching back Mysore, we felt as if we conquered something, I know, it’s a silly feeling. But it did feel like that. After we reach home, we had been sun-burnt, no, it wasn’t tan, it was sun-burn. Its been more than 2 weeks, I still got it.

Free advice: Apr-May is NOT the right time to go on a bike trip.

Trying to get a bit more adventurous the next time. Destination next is a 3-day,500+kms drive to Mangalore. :) As the bike gets older, the top speeds get higher. ;)