Never a dull moment

Time magazine brought out a special issue on Michael Jackson. I am not a music buff. That is not to say that I have not listened to songs of MJ. The magazine carried several photos of MJ as a child artiste. The cherubic face and impish smile touched me. A talented person who could have given much more to the world of music and music lovers has made an untimely departure. I wonder whether it would have been of help if some leading personalities of different walks of life tried to persuade MJ to mend his ways so that the music world could be further enriched by his contribution. MJ’s behavior and public interactions have been bizarre for a decade. Part of it could be publicity stunt but major factor had to do something with his personality. There was some insecurity and longing / craving for things we in the public are unable to fathom. But is privacy so important that some well meaning leaders of the society could not have tried to persuade MJ to change himself for better ? Or is it tha

I am a reasonably good traveller and enjoy travelling. I tend to strike conversation fellow travellers or try reading. I prefer conversation to reading. This post is about waiting at the terminus when the transport vehicle is delayed. Most of the buas stations in India are horrible and waiting for a bus which is delayed is a painful experience. The bus stations are filthy and the eateries in the bus stations and surroundings are of poor quality. Generally there is a lot of litter all around and air is thick with the smell of daily ablution of the floating public. The other two modes of long distance travel are trains and aircrafts. I prefer waiting in a railway station than at an airport though the airports tend to be airconditioned while railway stations are not. Railway stations are cleaner than bus stations and could do better. One can all sorts of people in the railway station. From the porter eagerly waiting for a passenger ladden with goods to station master to a vendor selling p

When one is bringing up kids, it is often a dilemma when to stop treating them as kids. We have two daughters. Both were friendly as toddlers and had no problem with new faces in the house and public. As a dad I carried them around a lot though my wife used to admonish me for doing this as they started to move from toddlerhood to being kids to childhood. My elder girl was far too heavy for any woman to carry her around by the time she was a year and half old. So I had the sole privilege of carrying her around after this age. Those men who were brave enought to attempt to carry her used to give up in a matter of minutes. Since I am well built, I could carry her around without much effort till she was three years old. As she grew older, those who attempted to lift her just gave up with a sudden loud sigh the way the weight lifters in Olympics give up when the weights are too heavy. My younger girl was of more than adequate weight but not heavy like my elder girl. So she was carried arou

In our mad rush everyday we forget to enjoy the world around us. We are lost in our thoughts and move without observing things around us. There was a restaurant four blocks away from my residence which used to open till 11 pm. I was late returning home a few days back and decided to grab a quick dinner there . It was around 10 pm when most of the shops had downed the shutters. To my surprise, I could not locate the restaurant. The shop next to the restaurant is an ice cream parlour which was still open. But the restaurant had gone and there was a film processing centre in its place. I would have passed that way umpteen times but I had not notice this change hardly a hundred feet from my residence. My residence is not far from my place of work and I drive along the famous Marina Beach from end to end on my way to office. Recently I stole a glance at the beach and suddenly remembered that it had been several weeks since I had glanced in that direction. Several ships were anchored at sea

Indian cities have been growing haphazardly with increasing migration from semi urban and rural areas. Even at the best of times, the civic facilities and infrastructre were nothing to write home about. With huge surge in population and proliferation of urban dwelling in the last couple of decades, what semblence of civic services was there has crumbled. There is dirt and squalor all around. Way back in 1983, I have noticed that certain areas of Mumbai looked rain drenched upto three feet from the ground every morning. It was not due to rain but caused by the morning ablution by masses. The stench was unbearable as the public transport buses would wind through such areas on my travel to my place of work. Besides stench and associated discomfiture, such atmosphere causes low grade year around health problems which could blow into an epidemic like the bubonic plague attack in Surat some years ago. Off and on, I have been keeping track of some efforts on modern grabage disposal in cities

One programme on TV I could identify with was Malgudi days. I was told the serial was shot mostly at Arisikkare near Mangalore. This place was strikingly similar to my native village with sandy soil , houses well spaced out with compounds full of coconut trees. Fences made of thorny bamboo branches seperated compounds in our native place. Small openings used to be provided for passage of small animals and creatures like bandicoots and mangoose. Most of the compounds had one or two bamboo cluster at the corners contiguous with the bamboo clusters of the neighbours. These clusters used to provide enough thorny branches for mending / remaking the fences every three years. It was a good example for self sustenance. Making a fence with thorny bamboo branches is not everybody's cup of tea. Certain families of labourers used to specialise in this vocation and they used to have a month's work every year in our and surrounding villages making fences. They were multi skilled and used to

Childhood is very different these days. The kind of things kids do and the activities they take part in and the kind of games they play are different from what it was a couple of decades ago. For a person like me who spent childhood nearly four decades ago , the difference is much more. The village atmosphere was charming and being in Kerala, it was verdant as well. I hardly had any toys. The only toy I remember is a red bus made of wood. I used to follow my grandma to the cowshed and the shed where firewood was stacked. I also spent time with her in the vegetable garden patch. Grandma always kept an eye on me when cucumber started sprouting. I used to pluck and eat the tender cucumber and grandma used to scold me. I had the uneviable task of carrying home ashgourd which had a pungent smell. I used to wrap it in a piece of plantain leaf and used to hold it as far away from me as possible. I used to run all over the place in the evening with my friends. We used to play with an improvise

As a kid, getting my hair cut by our village barber was a painful experience. It took a lot of time and one was forced to sit holding one's head still in certain positions. If one moved, the barber used to give a knock on the head with his knuckle and would change one's head position by a quick jab with his open palm similar to changing manual gear in a car. The barber used to click the scissors incessantly to emanate a chirping chatter in between cutting the hair the way Mumbai bus conductor asks passengers to buy tickets by pressing and releasing the spring loaded ticket punching stapler like handset. The worst aspect of the barber shop experience of yesteryears was the use of machines to get the final close finish around the periphery. This contraption used to pull out hair rather than cut it. Over a period of time, barber shops have become "solution" providers with good ambience. There are a lot of creams to be applied on hair and face and some also provide a impr