This is the first June that I’ve not spent groaning to get up early to get to classes on time. It is the first June where I’m not worried about the evening rain and walking back in that horrendous road to the bus stop. This is the first June where I’m sitting at home and enjoying myself, reading and helping out in my family.
And this period will probably end this week.
This was the first June where I’ve been so emotional. I was just reading things that made me feel overwhelmed and inconsolable and I just sobbed through the night. My new refuge? Colleen Hoover. Even though her books aren’t any happier or on the more positive side, I feel safe reading them, because I know they got a happy ending.
This is the first June that I have written so less. I’ve blogged so less and my poetry has almost come to halt. I should get back up to writing poetry before I completely lose hang of it. I miss it so much.
This is the first June where I run out to the balcony every time I hear rain and smell the fresh tar and petrichor.
This is the first June where I’ll be travelling in the Metro Train from my house! It opens tomorrow and I am so excited for it!
This is the first June where I’ve started painting on canvas. They’re not the greatest masterpieces, but I’ve loved every moment of them. I should get to ordering more canvas.
This is the first June where I’ve struggled to fit all my books in the shelves I can accommodate in my room. Such a sad reality.
Shower is this superb Chinese movie that is just so, so, so simply well put together that it’ll movie you to tears. And you’ll want to rush to the toilet to pee.
It starts off by a man bathing in an automatic shower stall. Then the whole movie revolves around a traditional Chinese showering stall. This showering/bathing place is owned by an old man and his mentally challenged son looking after it. The old man’s older son works in a city firm and lives with his wife. He comes running to rural Beijing (where his father and brother live) when his brother sends a postcard and thought that his father was dead and he ends up looking after the showering place for a while.
This has no fixed plot line. You can’t have a one-line story to it. This movie a riot of emotions: we laughed till tears streamed out of our eyes; we cried in the end and a few times in between; we went ‘awww’; we went mad. It was such an adorable movie that we couldn’t take our eyes off of it at all! It had family emotions, admiration for a talent, simple, exceptional, belly hurting humour.
Coming to the main focus of watching movies in class, the city has been portrayed in a very straight-forward way. When the whole area of their living was going to be demolished, it sounded very much like the scenario that we see in our country. Development replacing culture and tradition has been accepted by default.
The first scene of the automatic shower stall and the traditional bathing place shows a stark contrast in life. In the shower stall, you just go there, put some coins into the machine, bathe and come out and be on your way. But in the bathing place, it’s like a little community on its own. Most of them are old men, who’ve retired and come to spend some time with their friends. Sometimes, children are also seen. And here, we don’t see anyone paying the man. Not once throughout the movie.
It was a delightful watch.
There is nothing that I can do to this review to show all my love for this movie.
This is movie #1 that we watches in the Bangalore Special Course. The aim of watching these movies is to try and understand the concept of the city in a metaphorical sense.
Whatever Works is a Woody Allen movie set in New York. It is about a man named Boris, who’s into his late 70’s and talks about his life in New York and one day, BOOM! There’s a girl underneath his house stairs and his life changes drastically.
Boris is a physicist and has been divorced for quite some time now. He has high intellect and when Melodie, the 21-year-old-girl who’s really simple minded lands up on Boris’s couch, he can’t take in her stupidity. After a while, he marries her. And then a whole lot of things happen and what I’m really interested in is the showcasing of the city in the movie.
NYC is kind of similar to Bangalore, in terms of richness of culture and the vast variety of people. It is a lot more cleaner than Bangalore but has lesser green coverage, from what I could see. It had world famous landmarks, like the Statue Of Liberty, which is one of the most distinguished characters of the city. All the big bill-boards and lights and the tiny cafe`s and the people all remind me of Bangalore. There’s just so much to explore in both the cities that living there for one lifetime is nearly not enough!
When we look at the finer details of the culture or the people, only then do we actually realise how different each city is. Bangalore has multi-lingual people and so does NYC but the languages spoken are 90% different from each other. So is the dressing, the transport, the food, the behaviour of the people and the city itself. And to mention the coastline.
This movie was an amazingly entertaining one. It had little adult concepts but, really, does it matter? It was funny in a satirical manner. Every single dialogue Boris speaks, every single action he performs—be it washing his hands for as long as it takes for him to sing “Happy Birthday” twice, or his peculiar manner of being honest on the face and and not ever be bothered by it—has a purpose. Every time he “performs”, it looks like it’s going to make to laugh till tears stream out of your eyes.
It is a must watch movie for high entertaining purposes!
I don’t think I want to change this in any way. I wrote this in 2015, and even though my writing has changed drastically, I don’t think I will change anything.
I created this new blog just for Bengaluru and I’d named it, “Bangalore Through My Eyes”. It was for the English special course that I was taking, and it remained inactive for almost a year! I couldn’t take it anymore.
I already had this blog to fill it with food and culture and movies and everything in between of the city and that blog seemed a little unnecessary. So, I deleted it. It feels a bit sad, though, but thankfully, I don’t have to keep up with another blog.
I couldn’t bear to push that blog away into oblivion, so I took a few posts out of it (which were decent enough) and I plan to put them up here.
So, the next few posts will most probably be from them, and I will heavily revise it and edit it before I hit publish.
Because, honestly, reading those posts now makes me want to hit myself and say, “You have a brain! Learn to use it!” It is so bad.
My friends and I had been hooked on this idea to go and eat a family Dosa, which DJ had already eaten. It was such an amazing idea; someone actually thought, “Oh, we’ll make a BIG dosa, and make lots of people eat it together!” It brings together a lot of people and it is one of those rare days where I’ve had so much fun in final year of college.
This was probably one of the last lunches we will ever have as a class, but I’ll not think too much about it, or I will cry.
Everyday, for the past two weeks or so, one of us has always kept saying, “Let’s go eat family dosa!” and the plan always has failed because of dissertation work and whatnot. Finally free from dissertation work and with just one last (lame) practical exam to go, we decided to go.
This seemed like magic. The place was called RK Dosa Camp, in Wilson Garden, and it took us a while to figure out where it was before realizing it was right behind the Shantinagar TTMC. One family dosa costed us 200 INR. Totally worth it.
The place was small. The dosa tava was kept just outside the place. This family dosa was three HUGE masala dosas merged together into one.
After we ordered it, we went by the man who was making this dosa and we all watched with fascination as this huge dosa came to life. A mesmerizing sight.
Even with an (un)healthy dose of butter and ghee in the dosa itself, we got a cup of butter on the side along with the regular Aloo palya, sambar and chutney. The specialty here was a tomato chutney that was to die for. It was sweet, spicy and sour, all in one.
Today morning, as I opened the balcony door to dry my towel at 7:45, I did a double take at the weather. It was cloudy, but humid, like one would expect it to be during the months of June and July, when the monsoon hasn’t completely set in…and the summer hasn’t completely gone off.
This was predicted. One of the days this week was going to see rain, and the glorious Monday was chosen. After a useless and tiring day, this is exactly what I needed.
I actually didn’t believe that it was going to rain. Bengaluru is so full of false promises that I stopped believing in the forecasts. When the forecast says cloudy, I know that the Sun is going make use of all the day time and tune up his brightness to the maximum (so that the plants get more sunlight for photosynthesis and provide you with energy, says Sunny). Bengaluru is a sadist like that.
In the late evening, I stepped outside my house to buy some envelopes. I stood outside the shop, skipping the three steps like I was a child again, and let the cool and humid wind take my thoughts away as far as it can wander. The sky was cloudy; the only way to tell is by looking at the sky and deciphering the colour of it. If it is a clear night, the sky will look dark blue, like the blue one could get lost in. And maybe, a few wisps of silvery-grey clouds here and there. If it has any signs of rain, the sky looks like a mixture of purple-pink-orange-red in wild proportions. That colour is hard to get on paper.
I watched the first rain of Bengaluru as it washed away the dust on our car, and until the ground was no longer dotted with wetness.
It has been a while since I blogged on this blog. I seem to giving my other project more attention, but don’t worry, Mommy is back.
Today was the second last of my mid semester exams, and Sam and I left the hall 50 minutes of the 90 minutes after the test began. It was that kind of a paper. She and I left college and started walking the long, monotonous route towards the bus stop.
Yesterday, I decided to go to the GPO (General Post Office) on Saturday as Akka I was running out of postcards (Well, they just got a little boring). But Amma made a suggestion: why not try the Cauvery Emporium? After all, the postcards we bought from Park Lane in Mysore were pretty brilliant…
So, I caught the first available bus to Jayanagar 4th block, and to think it was a “13”, a bus which stops a kilometer away from home. It was 10 in the morning; half the showrooms were not even open yet, so obviously, the bus was sparsely populated. The nearest seat was in the second row and I sat down, rummaging for my wallet to buy a ticket.
As we were entering the Shantinagar TTMC (fancy abbreviation for a bus stand) when I hand him the money and tell my destination.I realize I gave him one rupee less, so I take out my wallet and hand him the last one rupee. He asks me, “For whom?”
I reply. “Me only.”
“Don’t you have your pass?”
“I should get it done for this year.”
With that, he hands me back my money, prints a ticket, gives it to me and walks away. I try forcing the money to him, but he doesn’t budge.
He bows to me as I was stepping of the bus; I give him my biggest smile possible.
Even though it is a Monday, I’d still like to put things down here. They make it seem very believable.
This week was spectacularly hectic. After the weak New Year’s day, I dreaded to go back to college because I had loads of unfinished assignments. And at one point, I didn’t know where I should start, so I sat and painted buttons, made a few postcards, to send and for our bookmarks/postcards stall at Nirvaan.
Nirvaan is St. Joseph’s annual fest, and guess what the theme is time?
NAMMA OORU BENGALURU!!
(My city, Bengaluru).
I could not have been more thrilled. Here’s the poster for it.
Samudyatha, I and Shravan, with the help of DJ and Archana, thought of having a stall during the fest. But with the fest happening this Thursday and Friday, our products are no where near ready. So, we’re ditching the idea. Instead, I’m heading Funk From Junk and Creative Writing. Also, we’re getting t-shirts!!
On 5th Jan, Thursday, we all went to Truffles. After hearing “Truffles this”, “Truffles that,” the restaurant really kept up its name. I had Mexican Chicken with Rice. And I tasted shit loads of stuff, and practically had to lumber along the footpath to catch my bus. Every single thing that I ate was so, so delicious.
Then, 6th Jan was Hayao Miyazaki’s birthday. In that honor, I wanted to watch one Ghibli movie, but unfortunately, I kept pushing it to the next day and the next, and ended up not watching it at all.
Saturday, I had plans.
I had two things in my list: Conference. And Kirik Party.
And one hell of an adventure it was.
The conference was held by Bangalore University, at the Jnana Jyothi Auditorium, the place where Japan Habba happened last year. I was so thrilled to go back because of all the memories that happened there.
But the conference ended so chaotically. The movie, Kirik Party, started at 6:45 PM. I thought, the conference would end at 5 PM, I would catch a bus to Majestic, then home, then go to the movie with Amma, Akka and Yoggy. But I left the auditorium at 6:30. Ran outside to catch an auto, and made it to the movie by 7:10 PM.
Thankfully, i didn’t decide to ditch the movie.
It. Was. Phenomenal.
I will be writing a post soon about the movie. Hopefully.
Sunday was even more hectic, and fun. I had a meeting with the Japan Habba committee, so Anita and I went. We had some Graphi.Inc business to with them 😀 and it was a pretty successful meeting.
After the meeting, I had a play to watch at Rangashankara, with Smriti and Arun. And it got late. Heartbroken, I sat down at the bookshop and read a whole Grapgic novel, The Tragical Comedy or the Comical Tragedy of Mr Punch. It is safe to say that this is one of the darkest and downright disturbing books that I’ve ever read, right alongside The Story of An eye.
The lucky side of my day is, that I got to watch the last one-third of the play! It was called, Swaraajyadaata, based on the book by Gandhi, Hind Swaraj. More on this in another post too!
Then today, I only went to college to attend two meetings at the end of the day. Otherwise, I would’ve taken refuge in the warmth of bed.
I am forcing myself to sit down at the computer and type this post out. Otherwise, I will probably stop blogging.
And I can’t have that.
I have been busy. I have been busy making cards for Christmas, which somehow, even with my early start, ended up rushing a few of them. I’m pretty satisfied with them, but I could only give them out to all the teachers and none of my classmates and friends. Which made me a little sad.
No matter. I have had other things to concentrate on. I will be back.
I am writing poetry, on my other blog, answering poetry prompts by PoetryHive on instagram, along with Parvathi. Do check them out! I haven’t been all that regular, though.
Last Sunday, I went to an event called Poetry On Elephants. It involved going from Sammy’s house to Rajitha’s house, catching a bus from Rajitha’s house and a wrong metro train to MG Road, but I reached anyway. I recited two poems that I wrote previously that week, which I thought were pretty good for my standard. And then we (we being Me, Yeshas, Ismail and Krishna sir, who’s a birder), went to Koshy’s and had coffee at 8:30 that night. Then Yeshas dropped me home and I went to college the next morning.
Monday was ethnic day. And it was pretty frustrating. We had two labs on the day, of which one of them was Inorganic chemistry. We wore our lab coats over our ethnic wear and did titration standing over wooden stools and almost slipping over. Which is pretty much the ultimate test that any of us could’ve gotten.
On Wednesday morning, as I was crossing the road to college, I tripped majorly on the road and fell majestically. I only hurt my left palm and right elbow, thankfully.
This week, after giving away the cards on Friday, I was hanging out some people from another class. It was refreshing, for a start, since I didn’t know about them a lot.
I got my package from the book swap! This time, the bookswap was so much fun! We had to send out books which matched our receiver’s name, either the title or the author. It was incredible fun packing it up for my receiver. Midnight, yesterday, we all opened it. I got Em and the Big Hoom, by Jerry Pinto. With tons of bookmarks and travel cards. And the big surprise was?
My book WAS SIGNED.
I had tears even before I realized my eyes were wet.
And, the pages are purple. It cannot get any better than this. Thank you, Tejasvi!
And, I bet you, you and your sister aren’t as awesome as we are. We got each other silver rings for Christmas! And when we went to shop for it, we went to our same standard store, Raikars, in Jayanagar. And we were both tempted to buy one for ourselves.
This was my life so far, though I only brushed up on the important details. Who needs in-depth analysis of life when it changes every moment?
Tell me about your Christmas! I’m so excited to hear it!
Every year, during Diwali, I will always have something to rant about. I’ve done it for two years now, 2014 and 2015. Mostly it’ll be be about all the pollution caused on the three days of Diwali. So, this year, my family and I escaped the madness and the pollution and sound by packing our bags and going off to Madikeri (Coorg).
Even though I have an exam tomorrow, we still went. I decided that I couldn’t stay put in Bengaluru and listen to all the crackers bursting and creating pollution on a global-threat scale. Sorry, Bengaluru, I love you, but I will cheat on you every time this year.
We left early on Saturday morning, and drove the 6-hour drive to Coorg. The place and its people are known for their hospitality, so they have several “home stay” places, where tourists or visitors and can stay in a very homely environment. Our home stay was owned by a man named Somaiah, and it was in a place called Gaalibeedu, 8 kilometers or so away from the city of Madikeri. It was a beautiful place. The huge house, surrounded by their estate and farm on one side, and the other side by a pond and rice plantations. I heard no vehicles and breathed the purest of air. I woke up to the sound of the birds and slept to the sound of crickets. It was absolute heaven. When I came back to Bengaluru, I groaned, not finding the beautiful green outside my window.
That evening, we went to the famous Raja seat, and the Omkareshwara temple. The Raja seat is basically a spot on a hill where the king of Coorg sat and enjoyed the view. And my, my, he had taste. The only downer here was the number of people and their phones. There were too many people, too many flashes and too many selfie sticks. I got really irritated at it and left soon.
We went back home and ate a good meal and slept well. The next day, we planned to go to Bhagmandala and Talakaveri. The drive to Talakaveri was long and winding and tedious but the birth place of Kaveri was beautiful. It was up on a hill and a temple was built there. We went there, said our thanks to the mother who has sustained us for thousands of years and drank a few drops of the purest water ever. Up on the hill, after visiting Kaveri, we stood a view point for a long time, taking all the beauty in. The clouds hug low an passed through us; we could see it on the other side but we felt it near us. The air was crisp and cool and we couldn’t get enough of it.
After getting back from Talakaveri, my sister fell ill, because of a bad stomach bug or something. Earlier that day, my dad was feverish. We got him medicines and the owners of the home stay got him home medicines which worked wonders.
We spent the evening inside our room, my dad and sister resting, my mum watching TV and I reading a book.
And yes, I carried half a suitcase full of books to take photographs with the nature. And I was not one bit disappointed. Check out my Instagram on the right for photos of books! I’ll be saving a lot of them for future use.
There is a place called Mandalpatti, maintained by the Pushpagiri Wildlife Sanctuary, and we went there in the early our of the next day to watch the sunrise. Driving to the place was the task. Up until a point, we can drive by ourselves, but after that, we need to hire a jeep. Our driver was John, and he was amazing. The road, or lack thereof, was rocky and full of steep ups and downs, and while on one side was the mountain we were scaling in the jeep, the other side was an opening to hell. It was mad, and scary and thrilling.
From the base, we trekked a little higher to reach the view point. Me, wearing nothing but sandals, got scared a little. But I trekked up, thinking of how I did on Kunti Betta and this trek was so small compared to that. I did it, and it was totally worth it.
The Sun was almost up, and the clouds rose with it. It was mesmerizing.
We left that evening, and reached home at midnight. I missed Madikeri already.
More on food, people, city and culture in the next post!