Posts

Showing posts from April, 2010

When the Building Came Alive

Image
Kasturi Dhama Apartments — the play area where many evenings came alive. The lights would go out without warning. For a brief second, the entire building would fall silent. Then, from somewhere in Kasturi Dhama Apartments, a chorus would erupt. “Yayyy!” It is difficult to imagine children celebrating a power failure today. But in the Bangalore of the nineties and early 2000s, a power cut did not always feel like an inconvenience. Especially in the late evenings, it felt like permission. Permission to stop whatever we were doing, leave the darkness inside our homes, and step into the building outside. Before Kasturi Dhama became home, we had moved through a few different parts of Bangalore. My family had begun in Srirampuram and Vyalikaval before gradually cementing ourselves in Malleswaram for the next few decades. My earliest memory is of living in a vatara —a Kannada word loosely used for a building or a cluster of homes—on 15th Cross, near Karur Vy...

Mr. Iyengar

It was not the best way for him to spend the rest of his life.  Rather, it was not the worst way either.  Mr. Srinivasan Iyengar was sitting at the courtyard of his house observing the usual day to day activities.  Except for a few aberrations, life seemed to move on in exactly the same way as the previous day and the day before.  Mr. Iyengar was meticulous with his time, a stickler to perfection, and a man, for whom honesty and integrity were virtues that occupied the highest echelons in his dictionary.  When I say that Mr. Iyengar was meticulous with time, it is not that he followed up every activity at the exact specified hour.  In fact, he was so used to the activities around him that he could call out the time just by looking around him.  As the vegetable vendor dragged his wares on a cart past the house, Mr. Iyengar would sub-consciously be guided into the house, and people at home instantly knew that it was time for his morning breakfast.  ...

Drawing the line

It is a fact of life that it is never easy to draw the line when it comes to a myriad of things.  Even if there is a thick line between contentment and greed, it is amusing to find that certain individuals find ways to be on the wrong side of the line.  Now, what's the wrong side? The Indian Premier League (IPL) has thrown open a can of worms bringing to the forefront the involvement of politicians, financiers, famous personalities, and almost every biggie directly or indirectly.  The final entity of the IPL happens to be the sportsperson himself, when he actually should have been the primary, speaks a lot about the way the tournament is designed.  I, personally, have nothing against the IPL.  It is a dream tournament for every cricket fan, who longs to see stars from various countries share the same dressing room in this city based format.  It is an English Premiere League like concept, where the best of footballers from all parts of the world represent ...