A few of my pet peeves, more to follow soon!
1. Using "anyways" instead of "anyway".
2. The phrase "My bad".
It sounds so terribly incomplete somehow, without a follow-up noun to the phrase.
I'm rather surprised to discover that Shakespeare used it too, apparently:
"our love and pity doth the impression fill
Which vulgar scandal stamp'd upon my brow;
For what care I who calls me well or ill,
So you o'er-green my bad, my good allow?"
3. Incorrect use of archaic English.
4. Incorrect use of French.(Or Spanish, or Italian, or Japanese, for that matter.)
I see this in a lot of shop/restaurant signs, blogs etc. I met a Frenchman
recently, and he said he was bemused to see boards blithely peppered with "la" and "le" and even " l' ", without thought for whether the noun following the pronoun was actually feminine, masculine or starting with a vowel.
5. People who've learnt British English (and spellings) throughout school suddenly switching
to American English. Yes, even those who're still in India.
6. SMS-speak. (shudder.)
7. People using "loose" when they mean "lose".
8. Corporate-speak . ("on the same page", "paradigm shift", "revert back")
9. Nouns turned into verbs. ("He lunched at noon.", "Loan me a fiver.")
10. Incorrect use of apostrophes. (It's, its, its')
Saturday, March 29, 2008
Thursday, March 06, 2008
All in a dahl's work..
And then we got this Roald Dahl fixation, what a lovely name to pun about with!!
A sample from those mad days:
--Roald dahl's uncle once threw him into the river. And said, mama ka maal, dariya mein dahl. And when he came out covered out in black mud, his uncle said, dahl mein kuch kala hai!
--Did he throw him into the dahl lake by any chance?
--And what did his mom call him?
Dahling.
--Weren't his kids called that? The little dahlings!
--Them too! And his aunt was Aunt Dahlia!
--If Roald was a Spanish tennis player, would he be called Nadahl?
--I love dilly dahllying in office too! Dahl tried to call his aunt once, but the line was busy, so he
redahled and redahled, finally panicked and sent the dahlta force to look for her!
--And they dahlt him rather a blow when they couldn't find his aunt either. Finally he hired a sleuth who found that she was carrying on a dahliance with the maharaja of gopal in new dahli!
--Har de har! On learning this, Dahl was hopping mad. He gathered anatole and rushed to new dahli and found dahlia, and let out a yodahl of joy. The three caught the next flight to dahlas, but by then anatole had already picked up how to use dahlda in cooking!
--And what did they watch on the return flight?
For a few dahlers more!
--(Aside: Say, if Roald was your brother, you'd call him Dahl-da no?)
How dahlighted we were to have met each other!
A sample from those mad days:
--Roald dahl's uncle once threw him into the river. And said, mama ka maal, dariya mein dahl. And when he came out covered out in black mud, his uncle said, dahl mein kuch kala hai!
--Did he throw him into the dahl lake by any chance?
--And what did his mom call him?
Dahling.
--Weren't his kids called that? The little dahlings!
--Them too! And his aunt was Aunt Dahlia!
--If Roald was a Spanish tennis player, would he be called Nadahl?
--I love dilly dahllying in office too! Dahl tried to call his aunt once, but the line was busy, so he
redahled and redahled, finally panicked and sent the dahlta force to look for her!
--And they dahlt him rather a blow when they couldn't find his aunt either. Finally he hired a sleuth who found that she was carrying on a dahliance with the maharaja of gopal in new dahli!
--Har de har! On learning this, Dahl was hopping mad. He gathered anatole and rushed to new dahli and found dahlia, and let out a yodahl of joy. The three caught the next flight to dahlas, but by then anatole had already picked up how to use dahlda in cooking!
--And what did they watch on the return flight?
For a few dahlers more!
--(Aside: Say, if Roald was your brother, you'd call him Dahl-da no?)
How dahlighted we were to have met each other!
knockturnal smses doing their back-and-forthing..
Stumbled upon a few surviving messages that preceded the Arthurford days, should probably put this up on the other blog, but I'm feeling much too lazy! Here they are, in no particular order:
Why didn't the biscuit crumble when I dropped it?
Coz it was one hell of a tough cookie!!
What would you get if you crossed a beet, a gangster and a horse?
Red Riding Hood!
When we were doing the Romans:
What would you call a musically inclined Roman actor?
Robert de Nero!
And yes, he used to play the fiddle!!
What would you call a Bollywood actor in Italy?
Roman Irani!
What would you call an Italian sailor?
A row-man!
What would you call an italian flea?
A Roman-tic!
If the Italian flea acted smart, his girlfriend would properly tick him off!
Prefect: Hahaha!! Awesome! Looks like our Roman saga isn't over yet!!
Dent: Of course it isn't over senorita! You know as well as I do that rome was not built in a day!
Doesn't petrificus totallus sound like a roman prefect?
Dent: In the old days, the romans used to grab their ladies... they lived by the
laws of Caeser!!
Prefect: They really carpe'd everything eh? They veni vidi vici'd the ladies hey?
Dent: Heh heh, forgive my choice of words, but they were more likely to have vidi vici veni'd them :-(.
Why is an elephant so wrinkled?
Just you try and iron one!
An elephant really needs to be ironed.. it's a problem.. Ivory and vory
about it!
Prefect: Well, it IS a gargantuan and difficult tusk, vell vorth vorrying about!
Dent: I, with thy graceful permission, add one adjective. It is also a mammoth tusk!
And then there were the Potter puns, the ones that didn't make it to the other blog:
What did the daily phophet say when bathilda bagshot got killed?
We're hag-rid!
Harry married the woman of his dreams. To him, she was genie weasley.
Nymphadora didn't want to be known by that name, hence at the end of the book,
she went Tinkerty Tonk!
You're on fire! You've got a bill-a-trix up your sleeve!
How did bill propose to fleur?
He just popped the usual ques- Veela marry me? :)
Why did dumbledore give the deluminator specifically to Ron Weasley?
Coz he knew he was the one who would ron away.
Rita Skeeter got her awesome anumagus abilities from her mom - she was a Ma Skeeter!
Mind you, a Ma Skeeter that bites, as opposed to the french one that goes "One for all and all
for one!" :)
Once ron and his wife were robbed. She lost all hermione!
Hehe that was really cute too! They were goblin all hermione, so sad for them na! In one fell stroke, all their silver came to Knut.
Bertie Bott a bit of butter.....
But it turned out to be a pumpkin pasty!
Would he be from Flourish and Botts?
Heh probably.. he bott it there, but in his flourri.. he picked up the wrong package!
Fred put George innto flour.
He was very flourish!
By George!! Percy put his older brother into cocoa, he made Charlie Brown.
Regulus put his brother down the chimney. He became sirius lee black :)
On second thoughts, after the chimney treatment, he could have even become the dark lord!!
And thus the riddle of how he changed his name to the dark lord is finally solved! :)
If Mrs Weasley was into metal, would she be called mollybdenum?
-Goodness! You deserve the O-scar for the best puns in foreign category :)
If you overdo it, you'll be oscar wild!
-There are more wild authors around than you can shake a speare at!
It be-wild-ers you, doesn't it?
-Indeed it does, gives me a lot of tenn(y)son!
You get the rowling trophy for best puns!
Ooh just for that, I give it right back to you! Wow lotsa prizes today - Rowling trophies and O-scars! We're on a rowl!!
I hate this mug world! We get mugged too :) We could fly at top speed, by just going 'broom!'
hehe indeed! And we quid ditch irregular buses and clicking conductors too, then!
Sigh! And if I ever go Accio broom in this muggle world, al I'd be likely to get is a tissue.
Yes, they'd either think you're mad, or you got a cold. Accio!!
Indeed.. that's what I meant! The sneeze :)) Speaking of which, Nadal's knees are very different from
Nadal's sneeze, no?
One of the blacks left the dark lord's services. He was irregulus :)
Grin grin! And he was condemned to recite irregular verbs in french for the rest of his life!
Did Charles Babbage ever manage to create a chip of the old block?
Fab! Only halfway perhaps.. so the whole thing was a major chip on his shoulder he carried for for the rest of his life.
How did the flintstones make ends meet?
The whole family chipped in!
--Ever seen some escalators and elevators in malls or airports?
We call 'em Schindler's Lift.
--Oh lovely!! Otis difficult to take rides in elevators in malls, they're so crowded. :(
--Hee, otis lovely! you lifter of spirits!! You're being o-tease, aren't you?
--Say, would a bartender be called a "lifter of spirits"?
--What would you call a plane that had a lot of passengers waking up after a looong journey?
--Umm, rip van winger maybe? :)
--No, a flight of stirs!
Why didn't the biscuit crumble when I dropped it?
Coz it was one hell of a tough cookie!!
What would you get if you crossed a beet, a gangster and a horse?
Red Riding Hood!
When we were doing the Romans:
What would you call a musically inclined Roman actor?
Robert de Nero!
And yes, he used to play the fiddle!!
What would you call a Bollywood actor in Italy?
Roman Irani!
What would you call an Italian sailor?
A row-man!
What would you call an italian flea?
A Roman-tic!
If the Italian flea acted smart, his girlfriend would properly tick him off!
Prefect: Hahaha!! Awesome! Looks like our Roman saga isn't over yet!!
Dent: Of course it isn't over senorita! You know as well as I do that rome was not built in a day!
Doesn't petrificus totallus sound like a roman prefect?
Dent: In the old days, the romans used to grab their ladies... they lived by the
laws of Caeser!!
Prefect: They really carpe'd everything eh? They veni vidi vici'd the ladies hey?
Dent: Heh heh, forgive my choice of words, but they were more likely to have vidi vici veni'd them :-(.
Why is an elephant so wrinkled?
Just you try and iron one!
An elephant really needs to be ironed.. it's a problem.. Ivory and vory
about it!
Prefect: Well, it IS a gargantuan and difficult tusk, vell vorth vorrying about!
Dent: I, with thy graceful permission, add one adjective. It is also a mammoth tusk!
And then there were the Potter puns, the ones that didn't make it to the other blog:
What did the daily phophet say when bathilda bagshot got killed?
We're hag-rid!
Harry married the woman of his dreams. To him, she was genie weasley.
Nymphadora didn't want to be known by that name, hence at the end of the book,
she went Tinkerty Tonk!
You're on fire! You've got a bill-a-trix up your sleeve!
How did bill propose to fleur?
He just popped the usual ques- Veela marry me? :)
Why did dumbledore give the deluminator specifically to Ron Weasley?
Coz he knew he was the one who would ron away.
Rita Skeeter got her awesome anumagus abilities from her mom - she was a Ma Skeeter!
Mind you, a Ma Skeeter that bites, as opposed to the french one that goes "One for all and all
for one!" :)
Once ron and his wife were robbed. She lost all hermione!
Hehe that was really cute too! They were goblin all hermione, so sad for them na! In one fell stroke, all their silver came to Knut.
Bertie Bott a bit of butter.....
But it turned out to be a pumpkin pasty!
Would he be from Flourish and Botts?
Heh probably.. he bott it there, but in his flourri.. he picked up the wrong package!
Fred put George innto flour.
He was very flourish!
By George!! Percy put his older brother into cocoa, he made Charlie Brown.
Regulus put his brother down the chimney. He became sirius lee black :)
On second thoughts, after the chimney treatment, he could have even become the dark lord!!
And thus the riddle of how he changed his name to the dark lord is finally solved! :)
If Mrs Weasley was into metal, would she be called mollybdenum?
-Goodness! You deserve the O-scar for the best puns in foreign category :)
If you overdo it, you'll be oscar wild!
-There are more wild authors around than you can shake a speare at!
It be-wild-ers you, doesn't it?
-Indeed it does, gives me a lot of tenn(y)son!
You get the rowling trophy for best puns!
Ooh just for that, I give it right back to you! Wow lotsa prizes today - Rowling trophies and O-scars! We're on a rowl!!
I hate this mug world! We get mugged too :) We could fly at top speed, by just going 'broom!'
hehe indeed! And we quid ditch irregular buses and clicking conductors too, then!
Sigh! And if I ever go Accio broom in this muggle world, al I'd be likely to get is a tissue.
Yes, they'd either think you're mad, or you got a cold. Accio!!
Indeed.. that's what I meant! The sneeze :)) Speaking of which, Nadal's knees are very different from
Nadal's sneeze, no?
One of the blacks left the dark lord's services. He was irregulus :)
Grin grin! And he was condemned to recite irregular verbs in french for the rest of his life!
Did Charles Babbage ever manage to create a chip of the old block?
Fab! Only halfway perhaps.. so the whole thing was a major chip on his shoulder he carried for for the rest of his life.
How did the flintstones make ends meet?
The whole family chipped in!
--Ever seen some escalators and elevators in malls or airports?
We call 'em Schindler's Lift.
--Oh lovely!! Otis difficult to take rides in elevators in malls, they're so crowded. :(
--Hee, otis lovely! you lifter of spirits!! You're being o-tease, aren't you?
--Say, would a bartender be called a "lifter of spirits"?
--What would you call a plane that had a lot of passengers waking up after a looong journey?
--Umm, rip van winger maybe? :)
--No, a flight of stirs!
Monday, January 07, 2008
Missed Nadal
Crumbs! Couldn't go to watch the Chennai Open after all.
Fever. Cold. Beaucoup de travaille. More fever and cold.
And Nadal lost.
Sigh. What a way to start the year!
Fever. Cold. Beaucoup de travaille. More fever and cold.
And Nadal lost.
Sigh. What a way to start the year!
Thursday, November 15, 2007
Saawari-yawwwn!
And so the media blitzkrieg reached its screaming pinnacle over the Diwali weekend.
We saw the whole circus unfold over the last few months, the two big banners striving to out-do each other in every way, the stars of both films appearing on TV shows left, right and centre, news channels eating out of their hands for savvy sound-bytes and more.
So the day came when I popped off to watch Saawariya, what with all the positive buzz over its dreamy sets, the pair of likeable young stars, the formidable Sanjay Leela Bhansali with his penchant for intense, passionate cinema, the backdrop of a classic Dostoyevsky short story and a decent music score.Oh yes, the movie seemed promising alright!
And what of the movie itself?
Well, considering that my review started off on that note, it could only mean bad news ahead.
Hence we start with delectable shots of a Venice/St Petersburg-like Old Town, rather reminiscent of Moulin Rouge incidentally, panning onward to Rani Mukherjee, desperately trying to do the role of a golden-hearted prostitute yet again (and fervently wishing she was doing a song-and-dance number with SRK instead, I bet!)
And then we have the Young Man himself, a little larger than life, cavorting with the gang of prostitutes and making them smile and all that.. the jaadu ki jhappi thing happening full-on.
And aeons and many sugary dialogues and yawns from the audience later, the young lady finally makes her appearance.
I guess that was the first sign.
The original story has this painfully shy and serious young man, who happens to help her when she's being aggressively pursued by an unsavoury character, and then they become friends, and he inevitably falls in love with her, knowing full well that she's already spoken for. And it's all about him, the depth of his feelings, the lengths he goes to help the girl get a note across to her lover, his loneliness.
That's a powerful story, just has raw, believable emotion. But here, our young man is portrayed as an extrovert, a likeable do-gooder, a romantic character so "cute", it takes away the pathos and probably just makes audiences wonder why the girl doesn't get hitched to him. Or makes you wonder why he's running after her when he could just remain happy-go-lucky and move on and find other people. Or makes you wonder why you're still in the theatre watching it, when YOU could move on :-).
So amidst all the blue-green haze of dreamy song sequences and Bollywood-y costumes and rowing boats through canals and singing in the snow, and playing football with women of ill repute, we lose track of his loneliness, his shyness, the fact that he's a friendless stranger in a strange town.
And then on, the story is quite, quite pointless, considering that Bhansali botched up the characterization of the main protagonist.
There's far too much dwelling on the female protagonist, the lovely Sonam Kapoor is made to giggle and cry with a frequency that approaches alarming proportions. There's far too much dwelling on the expendable Rani Mukherjee character, really, it's ridiculous to give a narrator so much footage, it distracts one from the main story.
Salman Khan as the mysterious lover with kohl-lined eyes is a little awkward, but passable, he doesn't hog the limelight like the over-the-top Mukherjee does. The crabby landlady character played by the feisty Zohra Sehgal is decent though, the one shining point in the rambling narrative.
This is one movie I'd have so loved to root for, with all its impeccable credentials and promise. It would have been interesting to watch Ranbir Kapoor play the serious, brooding introvert living his life for those few moments of bliss, instead of a cutesy, cloyingly sweet, larger-than-life character.
It should have ended on a wistful, poignant note, it should have been a real tribute to Dostoyevsky.
Instead, it probably has the Russian master turning in his grave, and the audience wishing it had stayed peacefully indoors for its post-Diwali siesta.
We saw the whole circus unfold over the last few months, the two big banners striving to out-do each other in every way, the stars of both films appearing on TV shows left, right and centre, news channels eating out of their hands for savvy sound-bytes and more.
So the day came when I popped off to watch Saawariya, what with all the positive buzz over its dreamy sets, the pair of likeable young stars, the formidable Sanjay Leela Bhansali with his penchant for intense, passionate cinema, the backdrop of a classic Dostoyevsky short story and a decent music score.Oh yes, the movie seemed promising alright!
And what of the movie itself?
Well, considering that my review started off on that note, it could only mean bad news ahead.
Hence we start with delectable shots of a Venice/St Petersburg-like Old Town, rather reminiscent of Moulin Rouge incidentally, panning onward to Rani Mukherjee, desperately trying to do the role of a golden-hearted prostitute yet again (and fervently wishing she was doing a song-and-dance number with SRK instead, I bet!)
And then we have the Young Man himself, a little larger than life, cavorting with the gang of prostitutes and making them smile and all that.. the jaadu ki jhappi thing happening full-on.
And aeons and many sugary dialogues and yawns from the audience later, the young lady finally makes her appearance.
I guess that was the first sign.
The original story has this painfully shy and serious young man, who happens to help her when she's being aggressively pursued by an unsavoury character, and then they become friends, and he inevitably falls in love with her, knowing full well that she's already spoken for. And it's all about him, the depth of his feelings, the lengths he goes to help the girl get a note across to her lover, his loneliness.
That's a powerful story, just has raw, believable emotion. But here, our young man is portrayed as an extrovert, a likeable do-gooder, a romantic character so "cute", it takes away the pathos and probably just makes audiences wonder why the girl doesn't get hitched to him. Or makes you wonder why he's running after her when he could just remain happy-go-lucky and move on and find other people. Or makes you wonder why you're still in the theatre watching it, when YOU could move on :-).
So amidst all the blue-green haze of dreamy song sequences and Bollywood-y costumes and rowing boats through canals and singing in the snow, and playing football with women of ill repute, we lose track of his loneliness, his shyness, the fact that he's a friendless stranger in a strange town.
And then on, the story is quite, quite pointless, considering that Bhansali botched up the characterization of the main protagonist.
There's far too much dwelling on the female protagonist, the lovely Sonam Kapoor is made to giggle and cry with a frequency that approaches alarming proportions. There's far too much dwelling on the expendable Rani Mukherjee character, really, it's ridiculous to give a narrator so much footage, it distracts one from the main story.
Salman Khan as the mysterious lover with kohl-lined eyes is a little awkward, but passable, he doesn't hog the limelight like the over-the-top Mukherjee does. The crabby landlady character played by the feisty Zohra Sehgal is decent though, the one shining point in the rambling narrative.
This is one movie I'd have so loved to root for, with all its impeccable credentials and promise. It would have been interesting to watch Ranbir Kapoor play the serious, brooding introvert living his life for those few moments of bliss, instead of a cutesy, cloyingly sweet, larger-than-life character.
It should have ended on a wistful, poignant note, it should have been a real tribute to Dostoyevsky.
Instead, it probably has the Russian master turning in his grave, and the audience wishing it had stayed peacefully indoors for its post-Diwali siesta.
Monday, October 29, 2007
Rafa in India!
Hooorayyyyy!!!
Rafa's confirmed his participation in the Chennai Open, Jan 2008!
I hope he doesn't pull out with injuries or something, considering his knee has been giving him some trouble ever since the weeks preceding the US Open.
Now the empress needs to pull out all stops and do whatever it takes to get tickets to the event.
With the number of Rafa bulletins I post on this blog, maybe I should listen to the irrepressible Arthur Dent and rename this space to La maison de Nadal or something, heh.
In the meantime, a few gleeful war-whoops in the hope that Rafa does, indeed, vamos to India, wheeeeeee!!!!!
Rafa's confirmed his participation in the Chennai Open, Jan 2008!
I hope he doesn't pull out with injuries or something, considering his knee has been giving him some trouble ever since the weeks preceding the US Open.
Now the empress needs to pull out all stops and do whatever it takes to get tickets to the event.
With the number of Rafa bulletins I post on this blog, maybe I should listen to the irrepressible Arthur Dent and rename this space to La maison de Nadal or something, heh.
In the meantime, a few gleeful war-whoops in the hope that Rafa does, indeed, vamos to India, wheeeeeee!!!!!
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
Of travails and the aftermath
It's been one of those testing times again.
Slaved it out day and night at work, managed to get it done before the deadline came whooshing in, and now I feel the after-effects of it all.
Strangely listless and worn-out, with an ever-increasing desire to go and fling something
sharp at the blundering gargoyle who calls himself my boss.
Some characters are so warped! The four or five of us involved in this assignment have been slogging it out and burning the midnight oil and sacrificing weekends, and my immediate boss (who's about as senior as the other four people I worked with) has been cooling his heels and not participating an inch, when infact, HIS superiors have been highly active.
And then I get a mail from him sometime in the middle of our mountain of work, asking me to shift to a different floor!
That's right, bang in the midst of an important chunk of work, what with the deadline hanging over our heads like the sword of Damocles.
And now, he kicks up a big fuss over my not having shifted yet, without even asking if we'd met the deadline or if there had been any challenges along the way. Dunderheaded coconut!!! Bumbling baboon! Bashi bazouk!! (Grateful thanks to Captain Haddock for such satisfying sobriquets.)
How do people like him get to be where they are?
So I had a pow-wow with the HR lady today, and I went to the extent of telling her that I thought my boss was extremely thick-headed, had a bad memory, was inefficient and disinterested!
I suppose I can get mighty blunt when I want to, especially when I know I've nothing to lose, what with the job scene being so positive and all.
I've been meaning to take a break from work, in any case, travel around a bit, and get back to a new job after a month of rejuvenation.
It will be fun to do something like that, troop in to work after a quick vacation, throw my resignation at the hippogriff's face, and just take off, like a free bird... a phoenix soaring into the skies, without a care in the world and a song in her heart.
Yes. That's just what I shall do. Experience rainbows and deep greens, waterfalls and azure seas, craggy mountains and mossy riverbanks, for they await.
Slaved it out day and night at work, managed to get it done before the deadline came whooshing in, and now I feel the after-effects of it all.
Strangely listless and worn-out, with an ever-increasing desire to go and fling something
sharp at the blundering gargoyle who calls himself my boss.
Some characters are so warped! The four or five of us involved in this assignment have been slogging it out and burning the midnight oil and sacrificing weekends, and my immediate boss (who's about as senior as the other four people I worked with) has been cooling his heels and not participating an inch, when infact, HIS superiors have been highly active.
And then I get a mail from him sometime in the middle of our mountain of work, asking me to shift to a different floor!
That's right, bang in the midst of an important chunk of work, what with the deadline hanging over our heads like the sword of Damocles.
And now, he kicks up a big fuss over my not having shifted yet, without even asking if we'd met the deadline or if there had been any challenges along the way. Dunderheaded coconut!!! Bumbling baboon! Bashi bazouk!! (Grateful thanks to Captain Haddock for such satisfying sobriquets.)
How do people like him get to be where they are?
So I had a pow-wow with the HR lady today, and I went to the extent of telling her that I thought my boss was extremely thick-headed, had a bad memory, was inefficient and disinterested!
I suppose I can get mighty blunt when I want to, especially when I know I've nothing to lose, what with the job scene being so positive and all.
I've been meaning to take a break from work, in any case, travel around a bit, and get back to a new job after a month of rejuvenation.
It will be fun to do something like that, troop in to work after a quick vacation, throw my resignation at the hippogriff's face, and just take off, like a free bird... a phoenix soaring into the skies, without a care in the world and a song in her heart.
Yes. That's just what I shall do. Experience rainbows and deep greens, waterfalls and azure seas, craggy mountains and mossy riverbanks, for they await.
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
Nadal's knee...
Feeling really bad over Nadal's injury, I was so looking forward to another fabulous semi-final showdown featuring Federer/Nadal/Djokovic/Davydenko at the US Open. Sniff.
Here's to the gritty champion, for having managed to eke out a victory in the first round despite that excrutiatingly painful knee injury.
Here's the full story.
Rafa rules!
Here's to the gritty champion, for having managed to eke out a victory in the first round despite that excrutiatingly painful knee injury.
Here's the full story.
Rafa rules!
Sunday, August 26, 2007
Just Pottering around...
I've just GOT to share this conversation I had with a friend recently..he is absolutely brilliant at jeu de mots, carries them off with such 'pun'ache!
It was lovely to run into someone else in this vast universe who is as helplessly addicted to punning as I am...(May our tribe increase!)
And so, fellow potterers, without further ado, here's the transcript of that whacky conversation:
http://dhatteriki.blogspot.com/2007/08/deathly-hellos.html
It was lovely to run into someone else in this vast universe who is as helplessly addicted to punning as I am...(May our tribe increase!)
And so, fellow potterers, without further ado, here's the transcript of that whacky conversation:
http://dhatteriki.blogspot.com/2007/08/deathly-hellos.html
Monday, August 13, 2007
While we're on tennis..
Came across this gem recently:
Q: Why is a tennis game a noisy game?
A; Because each player raises a racket.
La Sharapova would like that.
In other news, Novak Djokovic wins the Montreal Masters! Quite a feat, that, defeating the World No. 3, No. 2 and No. 1, on the way to victory. Tennis has been absolutely delectable this year, now if only STAR or someone else would come up with an exclusive tennis channel.
But no, I guess that sort of star treatment is only reserved for cricket, eh?
Q: Why is a tennis game a noisy game?
A; Because each player raises a racket.
La Sharapova would like that.
In other news, Novak Djokovic wins the Montreal Masters! Quite a feat, that, defeating the World No. 3, No. 2 and No. 1, on the way to victory. Tennis has been absolutely delectable this year, now if only STAR or someone else would come up with an exclusive tennis channel.
But no, I guess that sort of star treatment is only reserved for cricket, eh?
Thursday, August 09, 2007
Vamos, Rafa-aaah!
Yes! It's tennis season again!
The muscular man from Mallorca is in fine form, at the Masters in Montreal.
Looking forward to yet another epic showdown between Nadal and Federer, in the run-up to the US Open later this month.
Now I just hope Star Sports/TEN Sports/ESPN air the matches properly, instead of obsessing over cricket, as they normally do. Hmph.
The muscular man from Mallorca is in fine form, at the Masters in Montreal.
Looking forward to yet another epic showdown between Nadal and Federer, in the run-up to the US Open later this month.
Now I just hope Star Sports/TEN Sports/ESPN air the matches properly, instead of obsessing over cricket, as they normally do. Hmph.
Sunday, July 22, 2007
Language woes
My new firm seems to take its Indian-ness rather too seriously! While I love Indian languages (and all languages in general), this whole closed-clan, "us-them" syndrome is beginning to annoy me like the dickens. It's bad enough when we're party to it at social occasions, but now I realize it has crept into the boardroom as well.
This must have been around for ages, but I was lucky to have escaped it all these years, at my previous workplace.
Here, I've been shocked to note that no-one thinks twice before starting off in their own languages even during business meetings and technical discussions. They just don't seem to care that there are participants who are completely out of the loop just because they don't speak the same regional language. This also seems to subtly reinforce the whole partisan attitude that most of us suffer from.
There's so much hypocrisy involved here; on the one hand, they like to brand themselves as multi-cultural, global organizations with an Indian core, on the other hand, they do not seem to possess that united Indian core, when they start off in their personal languages.
I even noticed this amongst some of the top executives, at business meetings with international clients!
Of course, it's not a purely Indian problem.. of course we know that the Chinese, Koreans, Japanese, French, Polish, Russian and many other countries do it too. BUT the key difference is that every Frenchman knows French, every Russian knows Russian, and so on, but in India, every Indian doesn't know Kannada, or Marathi or whatever.
There's a reason why we have an official language, even if it's colonial and non-Indian.
And in any case, the single biggest factor for India being the IT hub and all of that is Indian proficiency in English, there's no getting away from that.
So on the one hand, we tout ourselves as global people with excellent English, and at the same time, we don't bother to conform to it at our own meetings and discussions.
I really wonder why there's so much clannishness really? Does it arise out of a deep-rooted feeling of insecurity somehow?
Are we so happy being big fish in small ponds, that we'd rather exclude everyone who'd bring in enough diversity to transform that pond into an ocean?
Are we so insecure that we need to resort to such small-minded techniques to maintain our exclusivity or superiority, sacrificing basic etiquette on the altar of a warped sense of unity?
I'm truly proud of our diverse culture and our languages, and I'm really glad that there are enough people left in this country to care about their roots and their own particular cultures, so that our rich heritage doesn't die out.
But I wish we'd also be open-minded enough about other cultures, undertand the concept of India as a nation (no North-South divide, no regional biases), and develop a sense of inclusion - especially on the professional front.
And I wouldn't have to smile vaguely or tune out of workplace conversations ever again.
This must have been around for ages, but I was lucky to have escaped it all these years, at my previous workplace.
Here, I've been shocked to note that no-one thinks twice before starting off in their own languages even during business meetings and technical discussions. They just don't seem to care that there are participants who are completely out of the loop just because they don't speak the same regional language. This also seems to subtly reinforce the whole partisan attitude that most of us suffer from.
There's so much hypocrisy involved here; on the one hand, they like to brand themselves as multi-cultural, global organizations with an Indian core, on the other hand, they do not seem to possess that united Indian core, when they start off in their personal languages.
I even noticed this amongst some of the top executives, at business meetings with international clients!
Of course, it's not a purely Indian problem.. of course we know that the Chinese, Koreans, Japanese, French, Polish, Russian and many other countries do it too. BUT the key difference is that every Frenchman knows French, every Russian knows Russian, and so on, but in India, every Indian doesn't know Kannada, or Marathi or whatever.
There's a reason why we have an official language, even if it's colonial and non-Indian.
And in any case, the single biggest factor for India being the IT hub and all of that is Indian proficiency in English, there's no getting away from that.
So on the one hand, we tout ourselves as global people with excellent English, and at the same time, we don't bother to conform to it at our own meetings and discussions.
I really wonder why there's so much clannishness really? Does it arise out of a deep-rooted feeling of insecurity somehow?
Are we so happy being big fish in small ponds, that we'd rather exclude everyone who'd bring in enough diversity to transform that pond into an ocean?
Are we so insecure that we need to resort to such small-minded techniques to maintain our exclusivity or superiority, sacrificing basic etiquette on the altar of a warped sense of unity?
I'm truly proud of our diverse culture and our languages, and I'm really glad that there are enough people left in this country to care about their roots and their own particular cultures, so that our rich heritage doesn't die out.
But I wish we'd also be open-minded enough about other cultures, undertand the concept of India as a nation (no North-South divide, no regional biases), and develop a sense of inclusion - especially on the professional front.
And I wouldn't have to smile vaguely or tune out of workplace conversations ever again.
Friday, December 29, 2006
an old gem
From Calvin & Hobbes...
"There's never enough time to do all the nothing you want."
Just how I felt when my notice period/vacation abruptly ended and I had to go join
the new place, sigh!
The transition from the blissful state of inertia of rest to inertia of motion can be (and is) pretty painful! Especially if one arrives at the new place when it's a buzzing bee-hive of frenetic activity..almost took me back to my old start-up days.
But these first few days have been good.. let's see what the new year brings!
On that note, gentle reader, here's wishing you a happy, fulfilling and healthy new year :-).
"There's never enough time to do all the nothing you want."
Just how I felt when my notice period/vacation abruptly ended and I had to go join
the new place, sigh!
The transition from the blissful state of inertia of rest to inertia of motion can be (and is) pretty painful! Especially if one arrives at the new place when it's a buzzing bee-hive of frenetic activity..almost took me back to my old start-up days.
But these first few days have been good.. let's see what the new year brings!
On that note, gentle reader, here's wishing you a happy, fulfilling and healthy new year :-).
Wednesday, December 06, 2006
can't resist posting this...
Q. Why did the chicken cross the road?
A. To get to the other side.
Q. Why did ______ cross right back??
A. Coz he was a double-crossing chicken!
Aaah, nothin' like a weeeeee bit of hiss-n-spit at times ;o)
A. To get to the other side.
Q. Why did ______ cross right back??
A. Coz he was a double-crossing chicken!
Aaah, nothin' like a weeeeee bit of hiss-n-spit at times ;o)
Monday, December 04, 2006
back again!
Finally trying to get rid of my inactivity here, I hope I manage to keep it going this time round!
Anyway, writing is supposed to be a cathartic process, and if anyone was ever in dire need of a cathartic process, c'est moi, at this juncture of Life!
As always, I wonder whether to keep this blog semi-autobiographical, or to generally toy around with abstract ideas that stem from the series of strange events that have been occurring in my hitherto placid life.
2006 has been quite a scorcher, in the final analysis, THE year of change: pretty sharp ups and downs really, if one were to plot a graph. Plenty of professional changes, some good, some bad,
and, hordes of stuff to stir up my personal life too! And this was one year where the first half was radically different from the second half, in every way. Almost makes me believe in phenomena like planetary influences and the like.
Ended up making a few new friends, lost a few new friends, recently lost a *really* good longterm old pal, errr, make that two, actually, went through the motions of a proper break-up of an on-again-off-again relationship, caught up with my reading and got re-addicted to the Hindu crossword, had lots of great moments with family, watched loads of movies, put on a few kilos (sigh!) , the list goes on!
And even as I take a look at what I've written, it suddenly seems so commonplace, this is just the sort of stuff that happens with most people. C'est la vie. I guess it just feels a little odd to me right now, because there hasn't really been much happening before this year... I was always in a warm, fuzzy comfort zone, a benign state of inertia, in every sphere of my life. Sorta like the good old Empress of Blandings, if you will. (Ooh, I wonder if Lord E. would be aghast at my describing the lodestar of his life as "good old" ;-). )
Like I said, maybe I should blame it all on (or, depending on the event, thank) dem busy planets :-).
There's still nearly one whole month before this year draws to a close, so watch this space for further updates!
Anyway, writing is supposed to be a cathartic process, and if anyone was ever in dire need of a cathartic process, c'est moi, at this juncture of Life!
As always, I wonder whether to keep this blog semi-autobiographical, or to generally toy around with abstract ideas that stem from the series of strange events that have been occurring in my hitherto placid life.
2006 has been quite a scorcher, in the final analysis, THE year of change: pretty sharp ups and downs really, if one were to plot a graph. Plenty of professional changes, some good, some bad,
and, hordes of stuff to stir up my personal life too! And this was one year where the first half was radically different from the second half, in every way. Almost makes me believe in phenomena like planetary influences and the like.
Ended up making a few new friends, lost a few new friends, recently lost a *really* good longterm old pal, errr, make that two, actually, went through the motions of a proper break-up of an on-again-off-again relationship, caught up with my reading and got re-addicted to the Hindu crossword, had lots of great moments with family, watched loads of movies, put on a few kilos (sigh!) , the list goes on!
And even as I take a look at what I've written, it suddenly seems so commonplace, this is just the sort of stuff that happens with most people. C'est la vie. I guess it just feels a little odd to me right now, because there hasn't really been much happening before this year... I was always in a warm, fuzzy comfort zone, a benign state of inertia, in every sphere of my life. Sorta like the good old Empress of Blandings, if you will. (Ooh, I wonder if Lord E. would be aghast at my describing the lodestar of his life as "good old" ;-). )
Like I said, maybe I should blame it all on (or, depending on the event, thank) dem busy planets :-).
There's still nearly one whole month before this year draws to a close, so watch this space for further updates!
Tuesday, May 16, 2006
Nomenclature rant, again.
Just wondering..
If people refer to "books written by young women for young women" by the rather disparaging term "chick lit", why do we not have a name for those written by young men for young men? Those of the Chetan Bhagat genre, for example?
Drone Tome, anyone? Or maybe, "d**k lit" ?? Hah.
Yeah, sometimes the feminist in me just erupts, and I bristle in annoyance over demeaning terms like the above, and also over the fact that the term "woman" is still often used as a qualifier or adjective... such as woman doctor, woman entrepreneur, woman lawyer, woman writer etc. This subtly gives a message to the subconscious mind that these are rarities or aberrations, and therefore not to be taken quite as seriously as they should be.
Darn it!!
One would think we're still living in the 19th century :-(.
If people refer to "books written by young women for young women" by the rather disparaging term "chick lit", why do we not have a name for those written by young men for young men? Those of the Chetan Bhagat genre, for example?
Drone Tome, anyone? Or maybe, "d**k lit" ?? Hah.
Yeah, sometimes the feminist in me just erupts, and I bristle in annoyance over demeaning terms like the above, and also over the fact that the term "woman" is still often used as a qualifier or adjective... such as woman doctor, woman entrepreneur, woman lawyer, woman writer etc. This subtly gives a message to the subconscious mind that these are rarities or aberrations, and therefore not to be taken quite as seriously as they should be.
Darn it!!
One would think we're still living in the 19th century :-(.
Friday, April 14, 2006
murphy at work again, sigh!
Hmmm, looks like I attracted Mr Murphy with that last post of mine...
(Murphy's thought process on reading it : WHat?!! She has the flu and she's still so full of joie de
whatever?? I must be losing my touch.... I need to work on this some.)
They don't call it Murphy's Law for nothin'.
And so we had a rather disturbing March, and a not-so-great April!!
To paraphrase Plum rather clumsily (am just too grumpy to think of anything original right now), it's like Life handed me strawberries on a silver platter, and one of 'em jumped up and socked me in the eye :-p.
Hmm, on second thoughts, that's a tad too despondent... I don't think I could ever be *that* grumpy!
so how abt...
(apologies to Plum again!) .. Though one couldn't quite call her disgruntled, she was far from being gruntled.
Ah yess.. I think that's about right.
Of course, the silver lining is that I finally posted *something* on this dormant blog of mine...
even if it just turned out to be a vague rant and some awful Plum-plagiarising!
(Oooh thats thrice I used the word "Plum" in this post... we're reeeeally plum-bing the depths today, are we not??!)
(Murphy's thought process on reading it : WHat?!! She has the flu and she's still so full of joie de
whatever?? I must be losing my touch.... I need to work on this some.)
They don't call it Murphy's Law for nothin'.
And so we had a rather disturbing March, and a not-so-great April!!
To paraphrase Plum rather clumsily (am just too grumpy to think of anything original right now), it's like Life handed me strawberries on a silver platter, and one of 'em jumped up and socked me in the eye :-p.
Hmm, on second thoughts, that's a tad too despondent... I don't think I could ever be *that* grumpy!
so how abt...
(apologies to Plum again!) .. Though one couldn't quite call her disgruntled, she was far from being gruntled.
Ah yess.. I think that's about right.
Of course, the silver lining is that I finally posted *something* on this dormant blog of mine...
even if it just turned out to be a vague rant and some awful Plum-plagiarising!
(Oooh thats thrice I used the word "Plum" in this post... we're reeeeally plum-bing the depths today, are we not??!)
Tuesday, February 28, 2006
of germs and antibiotics and a little bit more
sniff sniff... sick for the sixth straight day in a row...
Nasty bout of viral fever doing the rounds in B'lore, and needless to say,
I succumbed without putting up a fight.
Despite feeling half-doped and disoriented most of the time, (thanks to those germs and antibiotics determinedly putting up some high-spirited performances inside of me)
I find that this time round, my joie de vivre
has, curiously, remained fairly well above the Plimsoll mark...
La vie est belle , but ours not to reason why.. atleast for the nonce..
ours just to drift along (and try n give dem germs the old heave-ho, if poss.)
Nasty bout of viral fever doing the rounds in B'lore, and needless to say,
I succumbed without putting up a fight.
Despite feeling half-doped and disoriented most of the time, (thanks to those germs and antibiotics determinedly putting up some high-spirited performances inside of me)
I find that this time round, my joie de vivre
has, curiously, remained fairly well above the Plimsoll mark...
La vie est belle , but ours not to reason why.. atleast for the nonce..
ours just to drift along (and try n give dem germs the old heave-ho, if poss.)
Monday, February 20, 2006
a piece of paradise - part deux
Day 2, Devbagh.
Got out of bed as soon as the alarm sounded (wonder why I can never do that when I need to go to work Monday mornings ;-). ) Got ready for the nature-walk, and just then, they brought us tea. It was amazing sitting there, out on the porch, swigging hot tea while it was still quite dark (wasn't quite day-break yet).
Then we walked over to the reception structure, where we were joined by a gaggle of firangs and their (rather obnoxious and fawning) private guide, and a few of the Indian guests too, and the guide from Jungle Lodges.
We set off on a nice brisk walk, through the woods, till we reached the backwaters of a river. (The river Kali)
I also wonder why I can't muster up enough enthusiasm to go for early-morning jaunts when I'm in Bangalore, sigh!
The foreigners' guide was being ridiculously obsequious, and the rest of us just couldn't help snickering and getting exasperated in turns.
On the way back, we walked through a nearby fishing village, and we amused ourselves by trying to guess what bit of "exotic Indian-sounding" information would next be doled out by that guide.
All in all, it was a nice 3 km jaunt, and we felt good as we made our way back to the cottages.
We were to go for a ride out on the sea at 9, for a spot of dolphin-watching and island-hopping, which meant we needed to get ready, and tuck into breakfast in double-quick time.
Which we did.
Made our way to the jetty in time, hopped on to the boat, and we were off. It was fun watching the coast from the sea, and little fish leaping around every now and then. Went around a couple of islands (didn't stop at any of them though), and then, everyone went quite silent as someone spotted a dolphin leaping up gracefully, and then disappearing beneath the surface quickly.
Moved around a bit, and we spotted around three dolphins in all.. two of them were pinkish, and the third was a greyish black, I reckon.
I couldn't take pics of them : I preferred just watching them intently rather than focussing through a camera.
After getting back ashore, Suman and I went down to the sea to do some serious splashing and floating about. We must have stayed there for hours, and when we finally got back to the cottage, it was lunchtime. After another hearty meal, we went over to the reception to find out what water-activities were on for the day. We were rather keen to try out kayaking, but the instructor said it was low-tide, so we couldn't. We settled on a banana boat ride, it sounded like fun.
Came back for a brief siesta on the hammocks, and by the time it was 3:30, we were sufficiently keyed-up for the banana boat ride.
So it's this yellow inflatable longish raft sorta contraption that's towed along by a motorboat at high speed... and after a while, when one is in water thats abt 40 feet deep, the motorboat takes a sharp turn, and we all fall into the sea, and bob up and float around thanks to the life-jackets.
It sounds rather easy and bland when put that way, but it was quite another experience to actually try it out! Quite unnerving really, to go deep underwater (esp considering that one doesn't know swimming!), and thinking one is never going to make it up alive again, and then finally bobbing up, all spluttering and shocked!
So after that first dunk, Suman and I decided we didn't want more, and we hopped on to the motor-boat instead, from where we watched the others take a couple of dunks more. After that, we clambered back into the banana thingy and that part was fun, a high-speed zig here, a sharp zag there, but no more falling-off, whew!
The rest of the evening was much like the evening before, all pleasant and peaceful, strolling around the estate, and then on the beach, the sunset, the bonfire (pakodas this time round), even managed a bit of antakshari (just suman and I, lolling about on the sand).
And then dinner (of course) and back to a peaceful slumber. (unbroken for me, but Suman is a bit of a light sleeper, so she had her moments of waking up every now and then.)
Day 3.
Again woke up pretty early, at 6:30, had tea, and then set off to the beach, for a walk, and to watch the sunrise. It was absolutely beautiful, and we lingered on the beach, waves gently lapping around our feet, till it was nearly time for breakfast.
We really surpassed ourselves at breakfast this time round :-). This sweet old Austrian lady was shocked in an amused kind of way, as she watched us tuck into countless omelet and toast and poha and baked beans and paranthas ;o) while we blithely chatted with her about India and Europe and languages and culture.
After that long and satisfying breakfast session, we went off to the reception to tell them we were checking out at noon, and got back to the cottage to get ready and pack and relax a bit before leaving.
All too soon, it was time to leave, and we got back the way we came. Got a rick to the Karwar depot, hopped into a bus (we were still stubbornly trying to find one of those deluxe buses, but were again told there weren't any.) which was pretty comfortable after all, and set off through the Ghats to Hubli.
Reached Hubli in four hours, it was sweltering hot, and after coffee and a light snack, we decided to catch a movie to while away the hours before getting to the station.
Got back from the theatre at 9 pm, and we were wondering what to do at the station all the way till 10:25 pm. And then when we checked the status, we were horrified to find that the Rani Chennamma Express (our train) was delayed by some 3 hours, and that it was scheduled to now arrive well beyond 1 a.m! We were already exhausted and uncomfortable , but again, it was one of those things that we just couldn't do anything about. Went off to the waiting room and waited, with bad grace. We were plagued by mosquitoes and a human pest or two, but managed to ward the latter off. Dozed off fitfully every now and then, but on the whole, it was exhausting.
The train finally got in close to 3 a.m, and we got on, bleary-eyed and bone-tired, and slept off.
We felt reasonably fresh the next day morning, as we touched base in B'lore, and as we had the whole of Sunday ahead, to relax, we were back to feeling jubilant about a trip well-taken, as we made our way back home with our sea-shells and snaps and a Pensieve-full of happy memories.
Whew!!! Thats it for now!!! I'm outta here :-)
Got out of bed as soon as the alarm sounded (wonder why I can never do that when I need to go to work Monday mornings ;-). ) Got ready for the nature-walk, and just then, they brought us tea. It was amazing sitting there, out on the porch, swigging hot tea while it was still quite dark (wasn't quite day-break yet).
Then we walked over to the reception structure, where we were joined by a gaggle of firangs and their (rather obnoxious and fawning) private guide, and a few of the Indian guests too, and the guide from Jungle Lodges.
We set off on a nice brisk walk, through the woods, till we reached the backwaters of a river. (The river Kali)
I also wonder why I can't muster up enough enthusiasm to go for early-morning jaunts when I'm in Bangalore, sigh!
The foreigners' guide was being ridiculously obsequious, and the rest of us just couldn't help snickering and getting exasperated in turns.
On the way back, we walked through a nearby fishing village, and we amused ourselves by trying to guess what bit of "exotic Indian-sounding" information would next be doled out by that guide.
All in all, it was a nice 3 km jaunt, and we felt good as we made our way back to the cottages.
We were to go for a ride out on the sea at 9, for a spot of dolphin-watching and island-hopping, which meant we needed to get ready, and tuck into breakfast in double-quick time.
Which we did.
Made our way to the jetty in time, hopped on to the boat, and we were off. It was fun watching the coast from the sea, and little fish leaping around every now and then. Went around a couple of islands (didn't stop at any of them though), and then, everyone went quite silent as someone spotted a dolphin leaping up gracefully, and then disappearing beneath the surface quickly.
Moved around a bit, and we spotted around three dolphins in all.. two of them were pinkish, and the third was a greyish black, I reckon.
I couldn't take pics of them : I preferred just watching them intently rather than focussing through a camera.
After getting back ashore, Suman and I went down to the sea to do some serious splashing and floating about. We must have stayed there for hours, and when we finally got back to the cottage, it was lunchtime. After another hearty meal, we went over to the reception to find out what water-activities were on for the day. We were rather keen to try out kayaking, but the instructor said it was low-tide, so we couldn't. We settled on a banana boat ride, it sounded like fun.
Came back for a brief siesta on the hammocks, and by the time it was 3:30, we were sufficiently keyed-up for the banana boat ride.
So it's this yellow inflatable longish raft sorta contraption that's towed along by a motorboat at high speed... and after a while, when one is in water thats abt 40 feet deep, the motorboat takes a sharp turn, and we all fall into the sea, and bob up and float around thanks to the life-jackets.
It sounds rather easy and bland when put that way, but it was quite another experience to actually try it out! Quite unnerving really, to go deep underwater (esp considering that one doesn't know swimming!), and thinking one is never going to make it up alive again, and then finally bobbing up, all spluttering and shocked!
So after that first dunk, Suman and I decided we didn't want more, and we hopped on to the motor-boat instead, from where we watched the others take a couple of dunks more. After that, we clambered back into the banana thingy and that part was fun, a high-speed zig here, a sharp zag there, but no more falling-off, whew!
The rest of the evening was much like the evening before, all pleasant and peaceful, strolling around the estate, and then on the beach, the sunset, the bonfire (pakodas this time round), even managed a bit of antakshari (just suman and I, lolling about on the sand).
And then dinner (of course) and back to a peaceful slumber. (unbroken for me, but Suman is a bit of a light sleeper, so she had her moments of waking up every now and then.)
Day 3.
Again woke up pretty early, at 6:30, had tea, and then set off to the beach, for a walk, and to watch the sunrise. It was absolutely beautiful, and we lingered on the beach, waves gently lapping around our feet, till it was nearly time for breakfast.
We really surpassed ourselves at breakfast this time round :-). This sweet old Austrian lady was shocked in an amused kind of way, as she watched us tuck into countless omelet and toast and poha and baked beans and paranthas ;o) while we blithely chatted with her about India and Europe and languages and culture.
After that long and satisfying breakfast session, we went off to the reception to tell them we were checking out at noon, and got back to the cottage to get ready and pack and relax a bit before leaving.
All too soon, it was time to leave, and we got back the way we came. Got a rick to the Karwar depot, hopped into a bus (we were still stubbornly trying to find one of those deluxe buses, but were again told there weren't any.) which was pretty comfortable after all, and set off through the Ghats to Hubli.
Reached Hubli in four hours, it was sweltering hot, and after coffee and a light snack, we decided to catch a movie to while away the hours before getting to the station.
Got back from the theatre at 9 pm, and we were wondering what to do at the station all the way till 10:25 pm. And then when we checked the status, we were horrified to find that the Rani Chennamma Express (our train) was delayed by some 3 hours, and that it was scheduled to now arrive well beyond 1 a.m! We were already exhausted and uncomfortable , but again, it was one of those things that we just couldn't do anything about. Went off to the waiting room and waited, with bad grace. We were plagued by mosquitoes and a human pest or two, but managed to ward the latter off. Dozed off fitfully every now and then, but on the whole, it was exhausting.
The train finally got in close to 3 a.m, and we got on, bleary-eyed and bone-tired, and slept off.
We felt reasonably fresh the next day morning, as we touched base in B'lore, and as we had the whole of Sunday ahead, to relax, we were back to feeling jubilant about a trip well-taken, as we made our way back home with our sea-shells and snaps and a Pensieve-full of happy memories.
Whew!!! Thats it for now!!! I'm outta here :-)
Wednesday, January 25, 2006
a piece of paradise
Haven't posted anything for quite a while now, i *knew* this would happen!
(suitably annoyed with myself.)
Jan has been a lovely month(so far), and the extra layer of icing was provided by my recent trip to Devbagh. Tucked away in Karwar, in the Uttara Kannada region, this little island is an idyllic microcosm of a simpler and closer-to-nature world...
But I'm jumping the gun.
It all started one lazy Friday afternoon at work (yess! Another good reason for enjoying Jan is that I finally *do* have lazy aft.s , though it's going to be a short-lived season of rest. But Feb's not quite here, so one shan't worry about that just yet!) We had two mid-week holidays coming up the following week, and this time round, we decided to get away from the city for a while. Suman and I were both interested in Devbagh - it seemed just the right sort of place to go to, to recuperate from the onslaught of all that toil in the preceding months. Called up Jungle Lodges and blocked a booking.
Come Monday, we went over to the Jungle Lodges office and finalized the booking. We fell in love with the brochure itself, the place looked so pretty, and the accomodation (a Swiss-style tented cottage), delightful! Tuesday, we shot off to the closest BDA complex to book our train tickets to Hubli.
Wednesday dawned bright and nice (not that I woke up at dawn or anything. That was just figuratively speaking!) , and we went about packing and getting things ready. We met at MG Road, shopped for sunblock and other beach-stuff, ate a quick salad and garlic bread, and
zoomed off to the station. (Again, I use the word "zoom" just to express our collective feeling of chirpiness. One can't exactly zoom about in B'lore anymore, can one?)
Reached the station well in time, and went off to Platform 10 (oh I'm so tempted to say Platform Nine and Three Quarters ;o). ) and climbed aboard the Jodhpur Express.
The journey was pleasant and uneventful, and we slept fairly well, to wake up all excited as we reached Hubli Station in the wee hours of dawn. It's a small and not-so-bustling station, and since the sun hadn't risen yet, we decided to linger and have some station waali chai.
When it got a little light, we wended our way out, and after a few judicious enquiries about buses to Karwar, we got into a rick and made our way to the Old City Bus Station.
We were looking forward to the four-hour road journey through the Western Ghats, so we wanted one of those Super Deluxe buses with comfortable seats to enjoy the ride better.
However, here's where things went slightly awry: apparently there were no buses of the afore-mentioned kind, and after dithering about for over an hour, (and missing a few normal buses in between), we clambered into a rather rickety (or so it seemed to us, though it wasn't that bad really) regular KSRTC express bus bound for Karwar. Just about managed to grab a seat (and before that, stock up on some essential junk to munch along the way) and then we were off!
Driving (or rather, being driven :-p)through the Western Ghats is one experience I never tire of, I love it everytime... whether it's the Pune-Lonavla-Mumbai route, or much further south through the verdant stretches of the Nilgiris, Kodai... and this time round was no exception. NH-67 is an excellent route, and we were soon in high spirits again.
The bus had these small halts at places along the way, picturesque little villages with fields dotted with neatly thatched haystacks (I think I have a thing for haystacks, no idea why!)suddenly popping up along the backdrop of dense greenery and lofty mountains... if we'd had our own transport, I know we'd have stopped to explore some of those... On the other hand, it was good that the bus kept to schedule so well, as we were just as eager to reach Devbagh in time for lunch.
Another memorable part of the journey was when we reached the outskirts of Karwar district, just out of the Ghats, when we saw the first glimmer of the ocean; it was a sight to behold. To cut a long story (journey actually) short, we reached the Karwar depot just around noon I think, and here too, as in Hubli, the people were extremely kind and helpful as we asked the way (and the correct auto-fare) to the Jungle Lodges office.
The auto-rickshaw ride was through NH-17 (the highway that connects Karwar to Goa), and we saw the Rabindranath Tagore beach on the way, and a Naval base as well.
The sun was well up now, and we tottered into the office of Jungle Lodges, where we checked in, and were made to wait for a vehicle to take us to the boat that would ferry us across to the island. And oh, what a wait it turned out to be!
What was supposed to be a 10 minute wait turned out rather interminable, and the two of us were famished and awfully hot and getting annoyed about the delay. But it doesn't do to hurry things along in a sleepy little seaside town, methinks, so we couldn't really do much except fret and fume and curse a bit.
The Jungle Lodges folks finally managed to get hold of a rickshaw to take us to the jetty, and so, after a delay of about 50 excrutiating minutes, we set off.
When we got on to the boat, it still wasn't all smooth sailing, however. The boatmen said they'd been instructed to wait for another four people who were due to arrive at Devbagh. Since our tempers were already hovering above the danger-mark, we yelled at them and said we'd already done enough waiting, and ordered them to take off right then, which they did.
We were a little mollified then, but just after a few minutes of chugging along, the boat did a volte-face and turned right back to the jetty! We were really annoyed about it, but they just apologized and picked up the four people who were waiting there, by then.
After a little more fuming and fretting, Suman and I decided we couldn't do anything about it anyways, and decided to just focus on what was coming ahead.
I think it's a tribute to the place that famished and grumpy as we were, setting foot on the island, it just floored us completely as we beheld it.
A long walk through the sandy path set amidst swaying casuarinas, picturesque cottages and log huts, hammocks, and oh! la mer!! Glimmering in the sunlight through the expanse of trees , the sound of waves breaking sur la plage, it had this come-hither look.... and boy, were we dying to!
It was like stepping into a beachside version of a Wodehouse-ian setting. I think Bertram Wooster would have approved...
To get back to our story, we got to our own cottage, and were duly handed the key, and we stepped in. It was a pretty little joint, set in the middle of those afore-mentioned trees, it was what the brochure described as a "Swiss style tented cottage". A nice roomy bedroom, and a changing room, and a bathroom that completely satisfied us finicky souls. A hammock just outside, and a convenient porch to gaze out on the sea while partaking of a morning cuppa...
After having gotten ready, we walked down the long path, over to the central twin reception-and-dining area. This was again a simple and rustic structure - twin domes with a wooden bridge connecting the two. The other guests were already in the middle of lunch when we walked in. Made a beeline to the buffet, loaded our plates, and chose a table.
The food was absolutely brilliant. It was so simple and appealing and wholesome, everything was done just right. I could wax eloquent about each dish that was there, but I shall refrain from doing so, since I'll feel that sharp longing everytime I read it :-p.
Now I know how B. Wooster felt about Anatole's cooking!
After we stuffed ourselves a bit, we looked around at the other guests. The crowd was a good mix of Indian and non-Indian junta (the latter outnumbered the former though). Everyone was looking completely contented and well-rested and happy.
When we finally decided we'd done ample justice to the food, we looked around the estate a bit, since it was still too hot to head beachwards. Looked in at the reception to find out about different activities. They have a range of water-sports there, depending on the tide and the weather of course. Para-sailing, snorkelling, banana boat rides, dolphin-spotting, kayaking, the works. We were far too tired to do anything that active that day, so we decided to just chill at the beach in the evening.
After relaxing at the cottage, and lazing around in the hammocks, we walked to the woods again and watched the sea from the vantage point of one of those convenient little rustic benches that dotted the woods just adjoining the beach. It was lovely to just sit there and listen to the sound of waves, and the birds and the sound of the wind whistling in the trees. When the sun dimmed a bit, we finally walked over to the beach. It was a pristine sandy beach, with seashells and crabs, and the waves were gentle and soothing.
It was Suman's first really intimate acquaintance with a sandy beach, so she was absolutely delighted.
I don't think I have it in me to adequately describe in words the splendour of the sea during sunset (or indeed, during any hour of the day or night, for it is always magnificent), much has been written about it by people far better at descriptions of that sort.
It was hard enough to capture it all on camera... I sometimes think it's presumptuous of us to try to capture indescribable beauty of that sort on any medium, so I shall not even try to go the verbal route.
Before we knew it, it was nightfall. The Jungle Lodges staff was busy laying out paraphernalia for the much-awaited-by-the-two-of-us-constantly-famished-souls barbeque on the beach.
And as we waited and strolled around, some of the guests started a round of volleyball, which Suman joined in, with gusto. (While I had an eye on the game and another at the moon stealing up over the trees.)
We also tried our hand at the barbeque, I can still picture dem sizzling taters, sigh!
We piled up our plates (as usual), and made our way to the chairs around the bonfire.
It was all very delightful, idle small talk with some of the other guests, digging into those perfectly done potatoes and salad and drinks, with the waves roaring in the background. It was high tide by now, and the sea now had this awe-inspiring power... huge frothy silvery waves breaking against the shore under the pale light of the moon.
Sigh! I knew I couldn't write a good-enough description there! (But I'm not going to edit any of this :-p )
After all the eating and watching the bonfire, Suman and I walked a goodish bit on the beach again. It was lovely, and besides, we wanted to work up enough of an appetite for dinner :-)
We managed to do just that, and after a dinner (which was worthy of a lyrical ode) we headed back to the cottage.
A day well-spent, and now it was time to sleep soon. We'd left word that we wanted our morning tea at 6:30, so we could do a nature walk just after.
After a bit of drowsy conversation, we drifted into deep slumber, wondering what the morrow would bring.
(suitably annoyed with myself.)
Jan has been a lovely month(so far), and the extra layer of icing was provided by my recent trip to Devbagh. Tucked away in Karwar, in the Uttara Kannada region, this little island is an idyllic microcosm of a simpler and closer-to-nature world...
But I'm jumping the gun.
It all started one lazy Friday afternoon at work (yess! Another good reason for enjoying Jan is that I finally *do* have lazy aft.s , though it's going to be a short-lived season of rest. But Feb's not quite here, so one shan't worry about that just yet!) We had two mid-week holidays coming up the following week, and this time round, we decided to get away from the city for a while. Suman and I were both interested in Devbagh - it seemed just the right sort of place to go to, to recuperate from the onslaught of all that toil in the preceding months. Called up Jungle Lodges and blocked a booking.
Come Monday, we went over to the Jungle Lodges office and finalized the booking. We fell in love with the brochure itself, the place looked so pretty, and the accomodation (a Swiss-style tented cottage), delightful! Tuesday, we shot off to the closest BDA complex to book our train tickets to Hubli.
Wednesday dawned bright and nice (not that I woke up at dawn or anything. That was just figuratively speaking!) , and we went about packing and getting things ready. We met at MG Road, shopped for sunblock and other beach-stuff, ate a quick salad and garlic bread, and
zoomed off to the station. (Again, I use the word "zoom" just to express our collective feeling of chirpiness. One can't exactly zoom about in B'lore anymore, can one?)
Reached the station well in time, and went off to Platform 10 (oh I'm so tempted to say Platform Nine and Three Quarters ;o). ) and climbed aboard the Jodhpur Express.
The journey was pleasant and uneventful, and we slept fairly well, to wake up all excited as we reached Hubli Station in the wee hours of dawn. It's a small and not-so-bustling station, and since the sun hadn't risen yet, we decided to linger and have some station waali chai.
When it got a little light, we wended our way out, and after a few judicious enquiries about buses to Karwar, we got into a rick and made our way to the Old City Bus Station.
We were looking forward to the four-hour road journey through the Western Ghats, so we wanted one of those Super Deluxe buses with comfortable seats to enjoy the ride better.
However, here's where things went slightly awry: apparently there were no buses of the afore-mentioned kind, and after dithering about for over an hour, (and missing a few normal buses in between), we clambered into a rather rickety (or so it seemed to us, though it wasn't that bad really) regular KSRTC express bus bound for Karwar. Just about managed to grab a seat (and before that, stock up on some essential junk to munch along the way) and then we were off!
Driving (or rather, being driven :-p)through the Western Ghats is one experience I never tire of, I love it everytime... whether it's the Pune-Lonavla-Mumbai route, or much further south through the verdant stretches of the Nilgiris, Kodai... and this time round was no exception. NH-67 is an excellent route, and we were soon in high spirits again.
The bus had these small halts at places along the way, picturesque little villages with fields dotted with neatly thatched haystacks (I think I have a thing for haystacks, no idea why!)suddenly popping up along the backdrop of dense greenery and lofty mountains... if we'd had our own transport, I know we'd have stopped to explore some of those... On the other hand, it was good that the bus kept to schedule so well, as we were just as eager to reach Devbagh in time for lunch.
Another memorable part of the journey was when we reached the outskirts of Karwar district, just out of the Ghats, when we saw the first glimmer of the ocean; it was a sight to behold. To cut a long story (journey actually) short, we reached the Karwar depot just around noon I think, and here too, as in Hubli, the people were extremely kind and helpful as we asked the way (and the correct auto-fare) to the Jungle Lodges office.
The auto-rickshaw ride was through NH-17 (the highway that connects Karwar to Goa), and we saw the Rabindranath Tagore beach on the way, and a Naval base as well.
The sun was well up now, and we tottered into the office of Jungle Lodges, where we checked in, and were made to wait for a vehicle to take us to the boat that would ferry us across to the island. And oh, what a wait it turned out to be!
What was supposed to be a 10 minute wait turned out rather interminable, and the two of us were famished and awfully hot and getting annoyed about the delay. But it doesn't do to hurry things along in a sleepy little seaside town, methinks, so we couldn't really do much except fret and fume and curse a bit.
The Jungle Lodges folks finally managed to get hold of a rickshaw to take us to the jetty, and so, after a delay of about 50 excrutiating minutes, we set off.
When we got on to the boat, it still wasn't all smooth sailing, however. The boatmen said they'd been instructed to wait for another four people who were due to arrive at Devbagh. Since our tempers were already hovering above the danger-mark, we yelled at them and said we'd already done enough waiting, and ordered them to take off right then, which they did.
We were a little mollified then, but just after a few minutes of chugging along, the boat did a volte-face and turned right back to the jetty! We were really annoyed about it, but they just apologized and picked up the four people who were waiting there, by then.
After a little more fuming and fretting, Suman and I decided we couldn't do anything about it anyways, and decided to just focus on what was coming ahead.
I think it's a tribute to the place that famished and grumpy as we were, setting foot on the island, it just floored us completely as we beheld it.
A long walk through the sandy path set amidst swaying casuarinas, picturesque cottages and log huts, hammocks, and oh! la mer!! Glimmering in the sunlight through the expanse of trees , the sound of waves breaking sur la plage, it had this come-hither look.... and boy, were we dying to!
It was like stepping into a beachside version of a Wodehouse-ian setting. I think Bertram Wooster would have approved...
To get back to our story, we got to our own cottage, and were duly handed the key, and we stepped in. It was a pretty little joint, set in the middle of those afore-mentioned trees, it was what the brochure described as a "Swiss style tented cottage". A nice roomy bedroom, and a changing room, and a bathroom that completely satisfied us finicky souls. A hammock just outside, and a convenient porch to gaze out on the sea while partaking of a morning cuppa...
After having gotten ready, we walked down the long path, over to the central twin reception-and-dining area. This was again a simple and rustic structure - twin domes with a wooden bridge connecting the two. The other guests were already in the middle of lunch when we walked in. Made a beeline to the buffet, loaded our plates, and chose a table.
The food was absolutely brilliant. It was so simple and appealing and wholesome, everything was done just right. I could wax eloquent about each dish that was there, but I shall refrain from doing so, since I'll feel that sharp longing everytime I read it :-p.
Now I know how B. Wooster felt about Anatole's cooking!
After we stuffed ourselves a bit, we looked around at the other guests. The crowd was a good mix of Indian and non-Indian junta (the latter outnumbered the former though). Everyone was looking completely contented and well-rested and happy.
When we finally decided we'd done ample justice to the food, we looked around the estate a bit, since it was still too hot to head beachwards. Looked in at the reception to find out about different activities. They have a range of water-sports there, depending on the tide and the weather of course. Para-sailing, snorkelling, banana boat rides, dolphin-spotting, kayaking, the works. We were far too tired to do anything that active that day, so we decided to just chill at the beach in the evening.
After relaxing at the cottage, and lazing around in the hammocks, we walked to the woods again and watched the sea from the vantage point of one of those convenient little rustic benches that dotted the woods just adjoining the beach. It was lovely to just sit there and listen to the sound of waves, and the birds and the sound of the wind whistling in the trees. When the sun dimmed a bit, we finally walked over to the beach. It was a pristine sandy beach, with seashells and crabs, and the waves were gentle and soothing.
It was Suman's first really intimate acquaintance with a sandy beach, so she was absolutely delighted.
I don't think I have it in me to adequately describe in words the splendour of the sea during sunset (or indeed, during any hour of the day or night, for it is always magnificent), much has been written about it by people far better at descriptions of that sort.
It was hard enough to capture it all on camera... I sometimes think it's presumptuous of us to try to capture indescribable beauty of that sort on any medium, so I shall not even try to go the verbal route.
Before we knew it, it was nightfall. The Jungle Lodges staff was busy laying out paraphernalia for the much-awaited-by-the-two-of-us-constantly-famished-souls barbeque on the beach.
And as we waited and strolled around, some of the guests started a round of volleyball, which Suman joined in, with gusto. (While I had an eye on the game and another at the moon stealing up over the trees.)
We also tried our hand at the barbeque, I can still picture dem sizzling taters, sigh!
We piled up our plates (as usual), and made our way to the chairs around the bonfire.
It was all very delightful, idle small talk with some of the other guests, digging into those perfectly done potatoes and salad and drinks, with the waves roaring in the background. It was high tide by now, and the sea now had this awe-inspiring power... huge frothy silvery waves breaking against the shore under the pale light of the moon.
Sigh! I knew I couldn't write a good-enough description there! (But I'm not going to edit any of this :-p )
After all the eating and watching the bonfire, Suman and I walked a goodish bit on the beach again. It was lovely, and besides, we wanted to work up enough of an appetite for dinner :-)
We managed to do just that, and after a dinner (which was worthy of a lyrical ode) we headed back to the cottage.
A day well-spent, and now it was time to sleep soon. We'd left word that we wanted our morning tea at 6:30, so we could do a nature walk just after.
After a bit of drowsy conversation, we drifted into deep slumber, wondering what the morrow would bring.
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