To be or not to be..

William Shakespeare begins his tragedy classic “Hamlet” with the Soliloquy “To be or not to be”. Whatever the sense the author used it in, my usage would be for a sole purpose of putting forth the conflict in life, which I guess everyone goes through… to be ambitious or not in life? Or do they? Or am I the only such fish in the whole sea? I don’t know. 

Right from childhood through adolescence to being a man, it is constantly instilled in the mind  that having an ambition in life gives it a sense of purpose. Be it the parents’ ambition that is dumped on the kids’ shoulders, or the kids themselves having a particular passion, it is believed that this is the one single fuel that keeps the engine of your life, going. Yes, it makes lot of sense to be focused in life, about having a single particular goal, and be steadfast in the endeavor to achieve it. But, it takes resolve, dedication, determination and lot of will power to accomplish goals.  And yes, the fruits of the success are well deserved and well worth the effort. But there is always the question, what if we don’t succeed? It’s all good to hear about not thinking about the “unexpected”, but what to do in case of eventuality. Do we gather ourselves all over again and start the journey afresh? Or how long would we be able to get up and live to fight another day in pursuit of that one goal? 

There is a saying which goes like this “Unsuccessful people do what they like, and successful people do what they don’t like”, this truly endorses the ugly truths about hard work, determination and discipline. Say for example, if we have the wish to lose weight, the first question that would come to mind as to why would we want to lose weight? More often than not, it would be for the sole reason of looking hot in that office party over the weekend. To achieve this we would have to do all the opposite things that we did to gain it!! Wake up 6, go for a run or even better go for a swim, have a fat free breakfast, have a light lunch, even lighter dinner and sleep early. The result, in most of the cases, would be that we get that Brad Pitt physique and impress the hot babe in the night club or be that cool dude in the office, who is a James Bond at his work who is master at enjoying the best of both the worlds. But wait, weren’t we supposed to avoid the alcohol and food binge, and hit the bed early to maintain the good physique that we attained after so much pain? :) Bad habits are easy to creep in. The very purpose, for which we wanted to lose weight, is defeated. For all the pleasure that we sacrificed, what is that we achieved? A fit body. But why did we need that fit body in the first place?  Such similar questions about various things in life have made me ponder over and over again about being ambitious or being successful or even having a goal etc, without success. Ok I agree, my analogies may be far from being comparable, but I feel similar is the fate of being ambitious in life. 

For all the perceived lazy ducks in the world, or the easy goers, taking the path of least resistance works out very well. Just floating with the flow, gives the sensitivity to enjoy simple pleasures in life, relishing every minute of life’s blessings. There would be a sense of unhurried charm to life, which gives a sense of tranquility and equilibrium. Why to miss such wonderful gifts of life, in pursuit of the unknown? I am not advocating that we should get rotten sitting idle and doing nothing, but I feel we should never try too hard to achieve something. High performers would chide us for leading a worthless life, aimlessly drifting as the time allows us to do. Is it worth leading a bland life devoid of all the high motivation, energy and intensity? 

We may ponder over this time and again, and yet fail to get the answers. I guess all the behavioral experts and management gurus, make careers out of discussing about this topic, giving thousand options and opinions, bordering on the certainty or the uncertainty about the choice.

  

So the question remains, TO BE OR NOT TO BE?

Shastri Tuitions Part - II

The tiring eyes lazily looked at the watch the 15th time... 9:15 pm..and just when we thought that the ordeal for the day was over...one white apron aspirant stood up and asked a question in Zoology. He was one of the first benchers, and given a chance all the guys sitting behind him would have spanked him mercilessly on his a** for having asked...or rather even having got a doubt at that time of the day. The monotonous tone that was a constant noise (nothing against the person delivering the lecture, I just hated biology, and hence everything else even remotely related to it) to my ears, continued in the same frequency giving the explanation all over again. The watch ever so slowly ticked past 9:30..and the murmurs in the class started picking up the pitch. "The sanctity and gravity of the class has to be maintained", said the voice, no change in tone, no change in the facial expression..nothing..just the Baba Saheb Ambedkar pose. The owner of this voice was Mr Purushottam, a more than knowledgeable Biology lecturer, equally adept at both botany and zoology, capable of delivering lectures with the same tone, for hours together. As a matter of fact, any lecturer in Shastri Tuitions was more than capable of delivering lectures for at least 4 hours at a stretch. The white apron aspirants, considered Mr Purushottam as god’s gift to mankind in Shastri Tuitions, as he was one stop solution for all their doubts in Biology. Throughout my PU days, I always had this belief that anybody who got a doubt in Biology was a fathead. Biology is all about knowing facts and any amount of logical explanation would not change the "fact". For example, Femur is the longest bone in the human body and that’s the fact. Period.  However, Mr Purushottam, had the intelligence or the knowledge or whatever you may call it, to satiate the urge of these cabbages to ask doubts. His capacity to deliver the lectures and dictate notes, at the same breath, made me wonder how could anybody remember so many facts? Well I wasn’t a bright star in that tuitions and hence all my out of the context queries, were answered by my inner voice which constantly said, probably it could be possible by others, not me. 

By and large, people who hate biology, have some kind of inclination to numbers. You readers would be lulled into a false sense of belief, that I had inclination to Maths and Physics. Bwahawwahahaaahaahaha. As mentioned in my earlier post, the Maths class used to run at a frantic pace that missing one class would make us fall back by at least 150 problems. 150 problems?? You would say, and all the students who have attended Mr Ramesh in Shastri tuitions, would nod their heads in unison.  He was one person who believed that teaching is a noble profession, and classroom a temple and hence would enter the class bare foot; the ability to fill the entire blackboard within a matter of minutes, is unmatched by anyone. sinʘ, cosʘ, tanʘ were sprinkled all over the board, and unless we had the hand eye co-ordination of a Virender Sehwag(ok it was Sanath Jayasuriya then), I am sure we would have missed the logic in deducing the result of the problems. And yes, we did miss, most of the problems written down in our books had blanks below them and there were many occasions, where students lost the interest in going back and writing down the solutions at least from others who could catch up with the pace. I am proud to say that my book dint have any blanks; the secret, I dint even attempt to catch up with the pace. Whatever problems that I felt were important (and there was no sense of judgment to this) found its entry in the book, others were discarded :). The only thing that stopped Mr Ramesh from breaking his own record was his voice. His voice box which during the initial hours of the class supported him, usually used to play tricks in his endeavor towards the fag end of the class. His voice cracked quite often, and when it slowly began to attenuate from being heard even by the last benchers, to barely audible even by the first benchers, he used to end the class, by which time he would have easily hit his target of 150 problems  every time!!! All this writing constantly in most of the classes, made our fingers twitch with pain and any cracking of knuckles, time permitted, would be heard in the highest decibels!! 

Did we have any respite? Of course the Chemistry classes conducted by Mr Narasimhan, was a welcome change as far as the monotony was concerned. Yes, notes were dictated even in his classes, but his way of giving analogies, was second to none. Be it comparing manufacture of steel using perforated ladles to deep frying jilebis, or taking a Ammonium hydroxide in hand and rubbing it rigorously to smell ammonia to preparation of chewing tobacco, his classes were hilarious. Our interpretations of his serious analogies, made us giggle which generally he assumed as a reaction to one of his previous practical jokes. However, the icing on the cake would have go to our chief (Tor) mentor Mr Shastri.

We did have our sessions of Gyaan from him regularly, whenever he was upset with us, whenever he found that the general mood of the class was not upbeat, or even whenever he found at 9:15PM that he still had time!!!.  We dint have to actually write down any notes in his class, after all, the text book that we mortals were referring, was written by him!!! Hence, whatever notes that were supposed to be given could be marked out in the text itself. Amidst (the bloodies, loafers, rowdies - the adjectives that were awarded to us for our conduct in the class) all the verbal bashing that we used to receive, (guys of this generation could relate it remotely to MTV Roadies auditions, the only difference is that the class as a whole received the verbal assault!!) occasionally he used to come up with tales of past success achieved by students. The teary eyed students awe stuck, who used to listen to the stories, dreaming themselves as successful engineers, or doctors, as receiving best achievers awards giving speech about their struggle and their fortune, were brought down to earth by one statement “Bloody avrella 18 hours odhuttha idru kanro dina, nim thara alla” (Those students were studying 18 hours a day, not like you rogues). This jaw dropping statistic was disliked by me for two reasons. One; the sheer duration of 18 hours seemed an exaggeration for me and two; it was always directed towards boys. Probably Mr Shastri believed that girls were more industrious and sincerely put in the required number of hours up to the minute. These two reasons made me take that statement in a lighter vein. How could anybody study for long?  With great difficult I could achieve that stat in a week, and since that stat was mentioned about a 1^st rank holder, I declared to myself that I was out of the rat race even before the race began, and had no intention of receiving awards from the PU Board officials :). However, there was no short of motivation in his “talks” and the intensity was to such an extent that, we guys in the evening batch, almost all had the instant josh to sit through the night, and hit that 18 hour mark at least once. Highlights of Tendulkar smashing all the SL bowlers in floodlit grounds of Sharjah, in Star TV, were enough to quickly erase all that “18 hour build up”. To hell with all the glory, I used to say to myself, it was always better to enjoy simple pleasures in life. That very thought process, tuned up all the imaginary lullabies in my mind, and soon I would be curling up in my bed, enjoying a well-deserved sleep. A rightful reward for all the hard work that was put through the day. 

Coming to think of it now, despite having a hectic schedule, I still had the enthusiasm to go to college, attend tuition, come back home manage to study and do all this without having a single break in a week (Yes we did attend 7 hours of tuition classes, on Sundays as well!!). Was it the age? Or was it the josh of trying to prove a point to the whole world how good you are? I don’t know. Whatever it was, I miss those days. Jaane Kahan Gaye Woh Din!! (once again not a melancholy tune!!) 

A[V]I

Speed Limit!!!

Every man who drives a car and who doesn't have wrinkled forearm, who doesn't hold the steering using both the hands, believes he is a Micheal Schumacher in his own terms!! Any small stretch of empty road, (especially if you have driven through the city in Bangalore), would set the right foot press the accelerator pedal a bit harder!! and yes if the trip is outside the city, say from one city to another, then the cameras would be setting rolling... the videos of the speedometer touching high 160s or 180s would find its place in You Tube!!! 

Contrary to the above norm I had an experience which was out of the world (all the pun intended!!) during my trip last week to Dharwad, a more than lazy town, a middle class pensioners paradise in its true sense.

We were supposed to attend a wedding of my wife's cousin in Dharwad and since my wife belongs to Hubli, she has a truck load of her relatives there. Distance between Hubli and Dharwad being only 17.5 kms, it made sense to stay back in Hubli and commute to and forth of each day of the two day wedding. One of her relatives was kind enough to offer us their ALTO for our use for two days. The first statement I heard when I was receiving the key was "bhaal fast hogbyadri..50 maximum adhaa nodri.. allalle ninthirthaara... hiddhe bidthara.."(north karnataka dialect of kannada language.. which approximately translates to mean that there is a speed limit of 50 in that route, and people would be caught and fined heavily if they are found driving beyond the speed limit). Are we in US or what? I thought to myself, but since it was not my car, I thought let me sincerely follow the advice.

Summer in Hubli for bangaloreans is a bit too taxing, and if we travel around somewhere close to noon, then the chances of the heat getting to your head is quite high. So exactly at 12 noon, we left Hubli to reach our destination Dharwad, which was a stones throw away in terms of traveling by car. However, with the speed limit in mind, I had the challenge of controlling my urge to even put my foot on the accelerator.

The sleepy afternoon road, had empty stretches throughout the route... but since I was more busy looking at the speedometer than the road ahead, the journey seemed more like a procession to me. For anyone who drives a car, I guess the temptation to zip through on a empty road is hard to resist. I was hovering around 45 to 50 Kmph mark, and for all that mind control that I had achieved during this journey, the reward...an Innova who was following me religiously almost up to the halfway mark, found an empty stretch, overtook me and zipped through only to find the cops in white and brown, wave their hands frantically, and fine him for over speeding. I was proud of at least having resisted the temptation, for it was really worth the effort (or rather non effort :)??)

In one sense I was really happy that so much effort has been put to see that the rules are in place. It wouldn't be without reason that they would have put this in place.. my take is that all the pensioners in Dharwad drive through this route :)

Is there no way out?? for all the schumachers and valentino rossis.. there is a by pass route.. where the minimum at which the speedometer reads is 80kmph!! of course its a longer route, but for all those who have an itch in their right foot, this is definitely not the Road less taken!!!

A[V]I

Trip to Mangalore

An invite for a family function in Udupi from my in-laws side on a Friday, in the month of January, set me planning for a weekend trip. The tickets booked by train both onward and return journeys. I had purposefully booked a day journey ticket for the return. “What are we supposed to sitting in the train the whole day?” asked Megha, my wife. Yes, that was a difficult one to handle, with a wry smile I said, “You won’t be disappointed with the journey, trust me!!” So the plan was simple, depart Bangalore on Thursday night, reach Mangalore go to Udupi, attend the function, come back to Mangalore on Saturday morning, and travel by day train back to Bangalore. The day before the departure, due to some unforeseen circumstances, the function got cancelled. My wife, a bit sad on the eventuality, started unpacking the luggage. Unable to bear the saddened look on Megha’ s face, I thought, What is that I am going to lose, anyway I had booked the train tickets, and had got the approved leaves as well, So how about one day trip to Mangalore?? Everything was ready, I just needed to look for a hotel to stay overnight on Friday. Without much thinking, I told the idea to Megha, who gleefully accepted the invitation. 

With the hurtling night train, breaking the silence of the night, Megha and me, set on our journey to coastal town. Although the duration was only for a day, I was glad that we dint cancel the ticket.

The first look at Mangalore railway station gives a feel that we have entered a village; the approach road to the station also resembles any rustic setting of a sleepy Western Ghats town. Go up the ramp of the approach road, and lo, the bustling city in its entire youthful exuberance opens up in front of your eyes, as if opening a Pandora’s Box.

Unplanned trips are always sticky situations for me, although nothing unpleasant eventually happens, I almost hate surprises. By nature, I am very skeptical about backpack trips, and unless I have all the boxes ticked for the bare minimum necessities of the trip, little worries would always keep haunting me. This prelude was required for the simple reason “accommodation” in Mangalore, was not booked, and hence all my little beads of worry started forming wrinkles on my forehead.

Auto rickshaw drivers in that city are god sent and they double up as middle men for tourists looking for decent hotels. Unfortunately, there was a conference going on in the city, and as per the one driver that we had hired, all the hotels were booked. Wrinkles increased on my forehead, and in that sweaty city, my search with Megha, a little worried, continued for more than an hour, for a decent accommodation. Finally I hit upon Hotel WoodSide. The receptionist initially said that the rooms weren’t available. However, looking at Megha standing outside with our luggage, she felt a bit sympathetic, I guess, and offered an A/C room for double occupancy(The gender sympathy, helped me, had I been a bachelor, I would have been brushed aside vehemently).I dint even bother to negotiate for the price, a sense of relief for having got a shelter. I paid the advance to the hotel, paid a little more generously to my messiah for the moment, the auto rickshaw driver who had shown me the shelter.

Freshened up, we hit the road, looking for breakfast. Coastal towns, have sweaty weather throughout the year, and end Jan was almost nearing summer time, and even at 9 in the morning, we felt the sun blazing hot. So I started the stroll in the lookout for a decent restaurant. The stroll for me appeared a desert trek for Megha. A few 100 meters and the argument over the choice of restaurant to have breakfast began, and in that summer, it was supposed to be “heated”. Husband and wife, should always disagree at least on some things, that’s the norm of life, after all what is life without little argument? I dragged her anyway, until her cheeks turned from pink to red!!! Danger signs flashing to stop looking further and sit in a nearby moderately decent restaurant. It was one of those Kamath restaurants. We dint have much choice, or rather dint have the patience to look into the menu card. We ordered masala dosa, and Mangalore buns and devoured it without much talk in-between, an indication of our hunger.

Tummies full, we ventured into the city. What do you do in a coastal town? Go visit the beach. It was already 1030, with the scorching sun above us; we decided to go to the Tannirbavi beach. I was sure, that by the time we reached the beach, it would be noon. However, the sands and water would make us forget the sun, I felt. Also, Megha, who had a stupendous experience playing in the beach waters in Chennai just couple of weeks before this trip, readily agreed at least to touch base with the salty waters of the Arabian Sea. So we went to the beach, the approach to the beach itself, very strange. It has a huge row of pine trees forming a wall of barricade masking the view of the sea from the road. As you walk through those pine trees, you would not even sense the presence of a beach, anywhere near, except for the rumbling of the sea waters, and all of a sudden almost at the exit, a panoramic view of the entire beach unfolds :). I had expected the beach to be deserted, and so it was. Megha ran to the waters, like a small kid, and almost got drenched in the waters :). I had to drag her back, almost, reminding that we dint have clothes to change, if we got wet!! A few snaps, and a long stroll along the beach with the waves gently washing our feet,(Megha dint mind the stroll this time though!!) we were soaking ourselves in the glory of the Arabian sea, when the sun started to get too hot to handle. We ran back to the comforts of the bus that would take us back to the city bus stand. Caught an auto there, and rushed to our then temporary comfort home, WoodSide. We dint bother to go out for lunch, and called in for room service. The sun was too hot to venture out, and being tired, both of us hit the sack for a quick afternoon nap. The nap extended up to the evening and by the time we got ready, the clock had stretched its arms wide, exactly in opposite directions, 6 PM!!

Window shopping time!!I deliberately took her to the road, which was supposed to be our destination for a dinner with a surprise menu. Megha loves ice creams. So, I thought why not treat her with a dinner of ice creams!! I had a place in mind that would serve ice creams, and lots of it. Yes, it was Ideal Ice cream parlor. An ice cream binge was what that followed, and Megha loved it!! We started off with American Choconut, followed it up with two servings of Banana Split and Dilkhush, and finally ordered Gadbad and Dry Fruit Cocktail J. We had gobbled at least a month’s quota of ice creams; needless to say Megha was delighted with the surprise treat!! Heart filled with happiness and stomach filled with ice cream, she was grinning ear to ear, and had a look of appreciation for me in her eyes. 

We hit the sack that night after talking endlessly throughout the evening, about everything in Mangalore, the place, the weather, the cost of living, the people!! The next day was the supposed day journey, which I had promised Megha, to be memorable. The Ghat section from Kukke Subramanya right up to sakaleshpura, offers breath taking views of the Western Ghats, and the train travel, doubles up the excitement. There are 58 tunnels in this section, and just as we come out of the tunnel, the breath taking view is divine. The speed of the train is very slow in this entire section, and hence the distance of 52 kms takes nearly 3 hours. 3 hours of amazing panoramic view of the majestic Western Ghats!! I guess it is for this sole purpose the Indian Railways run this train. Take a bow, Indian Railways, you’ve done a great job!!

With a heavy breakfast and lunch packed in a nearby hotel, we bid adieu to Mangalore. Megha was all excited about the journey, with high expectations after all that I had bragged her about the majesty of Western Ghats. Fortunately, we had got the window seat and she was overjoyed because sitting next to the window, would offer her the best view of the Western Ghats, according to her. Little did she know that there was another surprise coming her way after a few hours of our journey. Just as we reached Kukke Subramanya, I got up from the seat and dragged her to sit on the steps of the entrance/exit door. “Illi koothkolodha?” All sorts of expressions anxiety/happiness/fear showed up on her face. I just smiled and said, “Idhu innu maja irathe baa koothko enu agalla, naan hidkothini” (This will be much more fun, don’t worry, come sit). I held her tight and both of us managed to sit on the steps of the door. The next two hours, I guess, was one of the most memorable experiences of train journey for her. Two reasons; girls are never allowed to sit on the steps of the door in a train, when unmarried. After marriage, if the husband is a sophisticated corporate, he would puke at the idea of travelling in a train, leave alone sitting on its doorsteps!

The atmosphere in the train during those two hours of journey is simply unbelievable and is almost as the one in a cricket stadium. Although the decibel levels are not so high, it is definitely vociferous!! The oohs and aahs once the train comes out of the tunnel and while entering the tunnel, the jaw dropping expression at the depth beneath the feet, the awe stuck looks at the huge mountains, is indescribable. Experiencing all this sitting on the doorsteps of the train, is simple awesome. Showered in this new found excitement, Megha was elated, and so was I.

The journey after Sakaleshpura is quite a paradox to the exciting journey till then. Finally we reached Bangalore at around 7 pm in evening. Fun filled, rejuvenating and definitely worth spending more number of days is what I describe this Mangalore trip as. Definitely worth a second visit!!

A[V]I