Parks

Near Eravikulam National Park, Munnar, Kerala

Nilgiri Tahr at Eravikulam National Park

Lonely poser. (@ Eravikulam)

The flow. At Eravikulam National Pak, Munnar

A little tahr, At Eravikulam.

Spreading its colours. (@ Okhla Bird Sanctuary, Delhi)

Oh Please!! Spotted dear at Ranthambore National Park

Happy Herd of Elephants, At Munnar.

LEO

All this was written or said much before but was destined to be put together now.

In memory of my dear LEO (8^th October 2002 – 19^th December 2012):

As I sat in my room fretting about how to deal with the centipede menace and the rat which had gained entry into my room, I missed my Leo- wish he could be here with me. With the size of my room (considerably small) no rats could survive in my room because there would be no place where it could hide from Leo. Food will not be kept on racks like it is now coz I’ll be more scared of him than the rat. Just imagine sugar like now, just in a packet, on the rack? He will eat it all in one go. Playing with ‘pazhuthara’ (centipede) will become our fun pastime. Missing my “thakudu”(English version not available).

I wouldn't need any alarm or anyone to wake me up in the morning – there is no getting away with a hungry dog. Especially with Leo, waking up would not have been a problem. And winter timing will automatically set in for both of us. Also could sleep fearlessly with the door left open. And the most tiring work will not be washing clothes or cleaning the room, it will be bathing him once a week.

 

In winters my feet which are always frozen even under a razai would be warm if he sleeps over it. The warmth of those days are still fresh in my mind. But when he didn't and I try to slide my leg under him, he gets annoyed and attempts to bite me for which I would kick him out of the bed and as a result both of us loose our precious sleep. Now when I think of it, it was actually my mistake coz I’m the one who disturbed his sleep first. Never in those times we cared whose mistake it was we always had to blame each other and forget everything and act as if nothing happened the very next moment.

And my normal 15 minutes morning walk nowadays would not have been possible with him. It will take minimum 30 minutes for us to cover a km. My sir will always find something for which we will have to stop at least 10 times. If he finds nothing else there would be the other dogs on the road and their rivalries. And even I will have to stop to get better control over him and watch over him.

There are big dogs in this area where I live and both of us will be scared of them but not when we are together. We can beat the shit out of even a dog as huge as “Alphy”( My cousin’s Afghan Hound) if together. And if there are many we can run faster than all of them and we’ve done it many times before also –haha! Though it was scary then, we’re laughing as we reach a safer zone.

Yes my Leo is the sweetest. He is my best friend ever. He is the sweetest memory I’ve – we’ve lived it together. I’m terribly missing that son of a champ who fortunately happened to be mine. And right now, I feel like earning a small bite from him. 

Childhood heroes

Everybody wants their childhood back; many authors and poets have touched on the topic to relive their childhood and the joy attached with it. Even I wanted my childhood back today, but it was not because of the no worries situation or the innocence n happiness associated with it. In fact I feel only a child knows what all problems he had. As a child it was so much frustrating to know that your parents are not taking you seriously. You talk with so much concern over a topic and your parents pretend to listen with the same concern with a smile on their face. And the pressure of studies, the best thing about growing up is you choose to study or not. But no matter how much you were in control of the elders the childhood still has a charisma of its own which always attracts you. When you smile back at an innocent child’s smile while you are irritated over something you wish you were like that child, who has no knowledge about what the hell is going around your mind now.

I felt a similar wanting to be a child forever, when I read that V.D. Savarkar was the key conspirator in the assassination of Mahatma Gandhi. My school books and popular movies had taught me that he was one of India’s great freedom fighter. One among the many other patriots in the pages of Indian history whom I was proud of. On further thought I realize that most of my childhood heroes were not really one. During my graduation years as I was not very good student didn’t bother to read much but remember how we had books and readings that also showed and tried to prove Gandhi himself in poor light. The best part of doing a graduation in history is you get to know that never believe any of the history completely as there is always or in most of the cases some or the other historians debating over how it happened. You learn that all the stories you were told in school also had another side to it which was never told to you.

Having been partially convinced that both revolutionaries and peace lovers were not just simply fighting in the interest of their country I turned my thoughts more inwards towards my family. For any son his all time hero throughout the life would be his father. Even if it is not said it is shown in most cases. So while thinking of my parents who will also be my childhood heroes by default a question mark rises. Were they really too? One instance remember n makes me put up that mark in mind was when a police official not in uniform came for passport verification and was handed over a 500 rupee note by me on the insistence of my parents. Isn’t that what you call bribe? Well there was no need for it as all my documents were perfect. But the roots of corruption has grown so deep in the society it was more like social custom of giving water or tea to a guest at your house. Well we were not taking any favour from him it was our right to have a passport, then why did way pay him? Just for our happiness of being assured of getting a passport in 3 months. That means it was not a bribe as it was paid out of happiness and not in return for any favours. But then why is it that we didn’t share such happy moments with a beggar who would come to the house asking for money or someone who needed it more? Frankly, they couldn’t assure you a passport as quickly as possible.

Most(or all) of us(including me, maybe, not sure) grow up to be big boys and girls inculcating all such life skills in our life taught to us from various institutions of the society and then blame it without realizing how much we are a part of it. But then is the world reaaly full of bad people? Are my parents who taught me not to tell lies n be law abiding also not heroes n just corrupt? Not really, parents are still heoroes because of the fact that I could think like this today. Whatever I could do today is because of them. When someone who is known as the Father of nation and regarded as the epitome of truth by all religions and people alike can have made mistakes in life, as humans all of us makes mistakes and the will to correct it is what gives hope for tom. So while the parents are still heroes for their lifetime contribution towards ‘you’. Like the economist say while formulating theories; other things being equal. Similarly other things kept apart both Gandhi and Savarkar were heroes for fighting for their countries. Even our legends like Mahabharatha which we consider as a holy text is full of deceit. It says your path is not important but your final goal. So everything is defined and answered well within our cultural roots.

Coming back to the question of if I still want my childhood back? No. I like it this way when I think, make possible theories then correct them when I find it wrong rather than the childhood when I didn’t knew and possibly could not have contributed more than a smile on an irritated man’s face. I do not mean that smile is less important but I feel this way I will be able to spread more smiles on more faces.

Sam's Cafe

Sams Café is located at Pahar ganj, The very place where bourgeoisie intellectuals go shopping and students go for the cheap hard drinks starting at Rs 20/-. A little further away from German bakery (will write about it some other day) you see an orange board with a hot cup of coffee and the name Sams café. As you get in, there is a small bakery, go more through the narrow passage and you reach a spacious inside. I opted to go the roof top way.  If you want to burn the calories you gain from the rich food you are gonna eat take the stairs or the lift is an experience in itself as you don’t find such old model lifts everywhere in this high tech world.

After taking a comfortable seat of your choice comes the menu. Although the place is meant mainly to sell to foreigners I noticed that all the costly items in the menu are tried by Indians while the foreigners usually go for simple items. However we Indians go out to eat something different from what you eat at home, thus it is explained. The simpler things can be cooked at home, why pay for it. This funda is very much evident when you see a south Indian restaurant full of north Indians. Meanwhile we forgot to go through the menu. As I m not officially hired by someone to write such views and neither popular like Rahul Verma or Vir Sanghvi I have to pay for whatever I eat from my own pocket, so I have not tried most of the stuff in the menu and can’t describe them. But from the couple of times I have been there I can tell you that there is something special in their way of cooking and a very informal way of serving. The menu gives you details about the major ingredients in the fancy names mentioned making it simple for less experienced people like me to choose as per mood. I only flipped through the Indian food pages, the reason as mentioned above. I don’t believe that they can give me anything better in Indian cuisine than what I have had before. So I stopped only at the Italian and Israeli special pages. Good Italian is something I always crave for but can’t have as it always comes with the cost. Chill’m n Slice of Italy are a few good recommendation. But then nothing can be better than the Diva chain when it comes to Italian. (As I said it’s not easy on your pocket, need at least 2 grants in hand.) So today when I visited I chose to have Lasagne(Rs 190/-) a must recommendation from all my food loving friends who are regular visitors here and Sam’s special pizza…. My first choice was a calzone but as bacon was out of stock the waiter told me to go for the Pizza instead (Rs 200/-).

Now if you have placed the order please wait and wait and wait till the order comes. Like most great food places this place also takes its own sweet time to prepare the food. Meanwhile just look around to see the casual way of arrangement and interior decoration. A peaceful open air location to savour your food. Drinks, smoke and hookah too available and is known for that too but then it is not my cup of tea ask someone else about it. Very clearly you are not one of their priced customer and don’t expect any such behavior from the staff. This is what I meant when I said informal.

Hmm, back to the food. The only Lasagne I had had before was from 975. I thought that was a good dish but only till I had this one. It was simply superb. The pizza was also nice but I felt my first choice of calzone if available had been a better choice. Anyway, the pizza was topped with olives. Yes the green ones you get in bottles (forgot the brand) -the very same one was used to top it. You can feel that unique flavor with every bite. Cheese tomato sauce and meat makes up the flavor. Well I believe I can explain something I see but not something I tasted. Sweet, salty bitter etc are too simple words to do that. Sugar can be easily described as sweet, but when it comes to gulab jamun and rasgulla? What could be said about their taste? Sweeter and sweetest? Ohhh! Why am I complicating things. Forget it! What I just tried to tell you is you need to try it yourself. Not just the ones I mentioned but the other stuff too. And if you have time tell me about them as I would like to know and try them out.

Acknowledgement

This is about someone rarely acknowledged. Don’t know what happened to me that I suddenly got such thoughts maybe it’s the extra glass of coffee in the morning.

She came from a middle class family that was very reserved. They need no other reason to be so than the fact that they had four girls. At that point of time during the late twentieth century even in a capital city like Delhi having 4 girl daughters was really considered to be a task. And ofcourse her parents boast about it all the time how they successfully raised four girls and more importantly married them off. But they are not the ones I m talking of; I talk of the eldest of the 4 who luckily happened to be my mother too. Never in my life could I remember of such an acknowledgement given to her. But yes somehow I am doing it now.

In some sort of an arranged love marriage she entered my father’s life which would have been a whole new world of surprises for her as she might have never experienced anything of the sorts of life my father had. He was a businessman which means some months they would be rich while some poor. Both her parents were working on fixed salaries and hence so were the family’s monthly budget. She studied in an all girl school and did graduation through correspondence. Yet she was quick in getting along with her husband’s friends and managing the guests that would visit a businessman who is also interested in being a politician. I remember one of my dad’s close friend saying how she used to keep coffee in a flask for all of them playing cards and go to sleep only to be woken up at the middle of the night coz the winner has enough money to treat everyone in the household at that point of time with an ice cream from nirulas (the only place that would serve ice cream at that time, they had that extra money needed too).

Enough of them, now when it comes to me at the very small age of learning A B C D. . . she was the typical Delhi police for me. With me, for me. Maybe my initial stages of being passionate about being Police or my passion makes me think that way. We use to wake up at five in the morning and study and do homework. Yes we both used to study. We studied together till I started taking charge of it on my own or maybe she wanted it that way. Especially Malayalam, it was new for her as it was for me. Could be a reason why I was not good at it. I made a lot of spelling mistakes I remember. She couldn’t even write it. Even before school when she was working; these are parts I don’t remember but have been told to later. It was my monopoly to help her with the pleet of saree in the morning. I didn’t like anyone else doing it. Once she left, used to wait for her looking out of the balcony for her to come back from office.

As I grew up, I required less of her help and the admiration and love also started growing towards the father. But even now, she is the one who folds the shirt for both of us. She decided what I wear and now it’s a difficult task for me when I have to choose on my own. Even worse when I have to go and buy one for myself.

Her sisters sometimes pity her thinking she has a lot of household work to do while we always think she is in our luxury. To all those who think like them, just look at us (me, dada n ammu). You will know what she did. We r all in each other’s comfort.

While I finish up this, I realize nowhere I thought of or mention what she felt. But then some habits don’t change I guess. All I know is what she would feel when she reads this.