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Showing posts from October, 2008

Partly Yours, Partly Lost

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Some places stay with you long after life has moved elsewhere. There is something strange about destiny. You just cannot overcome it, but at the same time, you cannot simply do nothing because something is destined to happen. In India, it is not uncommon to have your horoscope charted about a year after birth. Grandparents wait with bated breath to hear how well the stars were aligned, and what remedies might be needed to appease the Gods. So when I was a year old, my grandmother took my birth date and time to Dharmaraja Ghanapadigal, one of the most revered astrologers in Pudukkottai. He apparently told her that I would do reasonably well in studies, travel to multiple countries, and eventually live abroad. Here was an old lady asking about her grandson from a small town. My parents were then living in Gobichettipalayam. This was the eighties, long before economic reforms had changed the country. My grandmother thanked him politely, but quietly wondere...

Change or no change?

As I made my way out from the airport, I made a mental note of the fact that I should brace myself for the changes. Well, I had not visited India for the last three years, and all that I could gain about India was from the different websites and inputs from my friends who had traveled back home during this period. There is always a sense of apprehension and fear as you prepare to face what you do not want to face. There is a fixed image of the country in your mind, and for heaven's sake, you want to see it that way. You want to see certain changes, and at the same time, you do not want to see a wholesale of them. Life is strange in the sense that you want to adapt to the changes but without the knowledge that you are actually reacting to the change. I walked out on the road with not a trace of unfamiliarity. They were the same roads, the same muddy pools of water, and the cracks on the roads did not breed any sense of contempt from my side. The waywardness of life did not st...

Malleswaram, Bangalore!!!

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Pic: Why Bangalore is called as the Garden city? Mvm 17th cross After having booked my tickets three months well in advance, I was waiting with bated anticipation for the visit to Bangalore, well after three years. It was a mixture of unexplainable emotions and nostalgia, as I touched base at the brand new fantastic Bangalore International airport (much much better than the Frankfurt airport). I got out of the plane, and almost involuntarily, I bent down, touched the ground, and placed my hands on to my eyes, and I was definitely feeling blessed. One of the airport attendants felt proud, and I felt all the more. Bangalore has made me what I am today, and I was definitely feeling on top of the world. Yadu and I had a good time in the flight, as we made passing references to everybody in Kannada, and at the same time, had to be careful of what's happening around us, as half the flight was filled with Kannada speaking population. It was touching to see my parents wait at ...

Reliving and awaiting...

For the past few days, I tried to read the much recommended book of " Freakonomics ", and as I gradually made my way to the middle of the book, I thought it was time to quit what I was reading and venture out to something different. Definitely, it had some funny anecdotes, but I guess, it was not the right time to read the book. It really depends on your frame of mind to enjoy a particular book. So, I called it quits (yes, yes, yet another book) and wanted to read something which reminded me of home. Who else can I turn to, but our very own, RKN . I desperately wanted to read Bachelor of Arts , in spite of the fact that I have read this countless times in the past. If somebody asks me to list out my favorite RKN book, I would list out Swami and Friends , but inherently, I would gloat over Bachelor of Arts and take immense pleasure, as if I was the author of this wonderful literary piece. In spite of having written a review of this book earlier , I just can't contr...