Parwatisingari's Weblog

Saunter Along

To Saunter is to walk about in an idle or leisurely manner, or more specifically a verb describing a a style walking. It is simply to walk slowly with a joyful disposition, and has been spoken of by many naturalist . Julia Cameron the creativity guide, swears that sauntering opens up the creative blocks.

Henry David Thoreau says he has met one or two people in the course of his life who have understood the art of walking, that is of taking walks who had the genius so to speak, for sauntering,

These days we live in a series of interiors, disconnected from one another, but when we walk we are measuring and connecting to the earth, then we connect with everything unlike walking through the spaces- that we occupy, then we are walking only those interiors. Sauntering out in the open is about living and connecting with whole world rather than in the interiors that we build against the world.

June 19^th the world acknowledges the right to saunter, as World Sauntering Day or International Sauntering Day its just to remind us to take it easy, connect with the greenery, gaze at the sky, it is taking some quality time with yourself, maybe like taking yourself on a date. In 1979 when Jogging became a rage, W.T. Rabe created the sauntering day so that one could relax and enjoy oneself.

Everyone has the right to walk from one end of the city to the other, in secure and beautiful spaces. Everyone has the right to use the public transport, view a unhampered clean street and not be obstructed by two wheelers dashing on the side walk or cluttered with railings, signs and rubbish.

It is quite essential to do nature walking, that is any kind of walking we can do in natural world, be it strolling, striding, sauntering, stepping, treading whatever….Here is what Julia Cameron suggests, go outside, don’t tell anyone, don’t take your phone. Start walking and keep walking till you longer know the road like the palm of your hand, because we walk the same road each day, to work back from work we stop seeing it actually. We walk in our sleep and teach our muscles to function without being aware, which we cannot do when we are walking a new terrain. Of course we cannot get anything out of, one cannot utilize it for anything either thats the basic idea saunter park when you feel like just be with whatever you are and whatever you have, we will actually discover a whole world out there, it would be just out there out of our familiar window, and we would foolishly miss it.

My own experience in sauntering is when we go out to saunter, really aimlessly maybe right till sundown, it was really going in.

“Walking is the only form of transportation in which a man proceeds erect – like a man – on his own legs, under his own power. There is immense satisfaction in that.”
― Edward Abbey, Postcards from Ed: Dispatches and Salvos from an American Iconoclast

Tale of Two Airports.

We who are groomed at the Drone’s club do know a thing or two, though it is not a commonly accepted fact, the transformation of information to knowledge to epiphany tends to happen at that “eureka moment” how it hurts that this Drone’s vocabulary has been copyrighted by the blighter called Archimedes if I am not wrong.

Any way sitting at the Hyderabad airport I sorely miss the entertainment provided by the airport staff of Bangalore or Goa. You don’t get to see those smartly dressed ground staff, clutching to the walkie talkie like it were the last life line of Kaun banega crorepati , calling out to people that would put the vision of an Indian Bazaar in a British Raj story to shame, the hustle of, ”passengers to Vijayawada or whatever wada ” is sorely missing.

That gentleman Nehru would be highly thrilled how his socialistic values have translated, think of this, the inherent vice of capitalism is unequal sharing of blessings, so we “Kingfisher airlines ”owned by Mallya so on and so forth, never mind that the plane is constructed in a factory supported by ordinary taxpayer, never mind the road we take to the airport the Vayu-Vajra floated by the Karnataka govt. are all taxpayer sponsored, Mr.Mallya is the owner of Kingfisher..then the inherent virtue of socialism is the equal sharing of miseries, so we have stinking toilets in the airport and messy floors. Not to mention hollering mothers and rolling kids.

Coming to think of it, we have not really evolved from a railroad station, its just that to reach airport we have to take a cab 20 miles out town no wonder literature guys do not say ,”as pretty as an airport”

Just so that I do not think that we have turned capitalistic, the announcer goes,

“flight 6Ewhatever from wherever will be arriving shortly”

“flight 6Ewhatever has arrived from wherever and we welcome the passengers.”

“passengers travelling to Goa on indigo flight-XYZ, please proceed to gate 23,”

Guess what we could follow the announcement, I mean we could hear it and understand it…. the secret was revealed to me through a quiet SMS that Hyderabad is a silent airport, so we have no loud announcements, the boarding announcements are made at the right time and closed 25mnts prior to the take-off.

Hopefully we are finally evolving.

Fret-Flight

Some blighter in his lack of wisdom, said that our learning capacity decreases with age.

It really isn’t so, instead of Makemytrip.com and its infuriating customer care we opted to book through Yatra.com who actually do not care for customers.

The fly out trip was quite uneventful and just when I accepted that with age everything mellows the return trip happened. There are some things that do not change with advancing age and experience like if the departure time of a train is 7.20pm then one is at the railway station by 10 to 7, the airlines demand such etiquette too, they actually ask to check in 2hrs before.

So 7.20 departure, that would mean 5.20 check in that would translate to leave the house at 3pm, we have to make allowances for the rush-brigade. But this day the roads decided to open up and let us zoom through and we were at the airport precisely at 4.30.

As I entered by airport, I was knocked down, and it takes a lot knock me down, for if your were to fish my body from the Mandovi I would be called a woman of substance, anyway knocked down by what I thought was cannon in action, and before I could pick myself up I hear a loud tirade in Hindi for moment it was as if I was in someone’s living room where the war of siblings was on, then I realized it was the Lucknow Gharanah on the move.

Its not so bad, a rather pleasant looking young man, was kind enough to tell me, that I should wait in the chairs that were in front of desk 12, for that is where TruJet check in took place, and that it would open at 5.20, when I do get there at 5.20 I had to disturb this young man on his mobile, and he was again kind enough to tell me that the counter has been transferred to 74-75.

Wadding through the ocean of unoccupied chairs, kids rolling on the floor and shooting around like miniature turbo’s I reach counter 74, all formalities done by a nice little girl who looked like she was thrown to the wolves, and she tells me madam you had better rush the boarding is at 6.30.

Security clearance, done and I arrive at the terminal guess what the boarding was on, for Vijaywada. The pretty airline staff in smart Air Asia uniform, did the true type exercise that the passenger hustlers in the local bus terminus go, “passengers to Vijyawada, any passengers to Vijayawada,” sounded exactly like how achanna the travel agent called out at the Manipal bus-stand,”Udupi-Udupi-Mangaluru” delivered in classic airport English accent.

The Vijayawada guys went away

Here we were awaiting our flight. Right from 6.30 to 8.30 till we eventually took off,

Never more did I miss the Indian railway and its announcer saying,”yatriyon kripaya dhyan de Gadi sankhya GI che-sat-che thodehi samay mein platform number teen par aane ka sambhavana hai.” It kind of keeps us aware, and we know how much of time we have to pick up that samosa, eat it, should we have that cup of tea and most the last minute rush to the loo to be taken care off…

From 6.30 to 8.30 the amazing excuses we were given in order that it was rendered,

The aircraft is here, the staff are yet to come… 6.30 to 7.15
The are having a small clearance issue and we are sorting it.
The craft is a small craft, so we are having landing issues, this at 7.40

The only thing seems to evoke a civil answer is a threat to tweet about their bad service.

Honestly courtesy basic civil behavior seems to be a vintage occurrence.

After this on the scout’s honor I promise never to fly to any destination where the trains can take me.

Between sweet and sour — Muramba

The sweet and sour of life between Break-up and Patch-up…about relationships and everyday joys. review of the Marathi movie Muramba. a Romcom.

“Its Chinmayee’s movie,”

“Its about a husband empowering his wife”

It was Hobson’s choice and off we went to Samrat for the movie. Somehow I expected an near empty theatre, and to my surprise it was a near full house, the audience ranged from young couples to senior couples to the “united Indian family goes to movies”

A well narrated crisp movie, in the first half it deals with the mundane ridiculousness of everyday life. while the second half brings the more pertinent issue out.

Traditional story telling is either about a person, or a event, this narrative is more focused on the event, “the breakup of Aalok and Indu” the narrative uses flashback to share the events that lead to the break up.

Chinmayee Sumeet as Janaki Aalok’s mother has given a restrained elegant performance. The concerned mother who is alternatively dominating and allowing her son space. Sachin Khedekar as Aalok’s father, who very subtly brings his son to his senses. Mithila Palkar as Indu the girl in love who wants to supportive, but needs to know what she is supporting and Amey Wagh as Aalok who is trapped in his own comfort zone.

Chinmayee and Sachin bring out the bond between the much married couple very well, the easy companionship the underlying protectiveness and respect comes through. Somewhere through the movie there is a feel that there is something else happening which Aalok with his blinkers about his break up is missing, it turns out to his parents wedding anniversary.

Indu on her scooter, Aalok on his bike, the Deshmukhs(Sachin and Chinmayee) in their car, Janaki’s hurt when her son calls her, “a 10^th pass from Dharwad” with disdain, her own self-satisfied look when drives the family car through the safe roads of the housing colony, the detailing has been meticulous.

When Mr.Deshmukh calls his wife by her maiden family name “Ashtekar” it brought home some familiar family moments.

With English subtitles it made understanding the movie easy.

Muramba Well I say – ah movie for the family to see.

Mah jawbox ay dishes–rescuer — Big Bosch!!

I am hurt, angry and want to forget that I am 50+ and stamp my feet like the youngest inner child trapped in me,

BlogAdda you have hurt me so terrible, that I shall go and eat some worms, big ones small ones wriggly wiggly one.

Don’t stare at me, okay I get it you are clueless about what inspired my ranting okay.

Remember the time when you are young and you have the next 20yrs years to build your dream life, I was there once. And my dream house had a wonderful kitchen right out of inside outside magazine with a Nikki-Tasha cooking range and unnamed brand of dishwasher and unnamed brand of washing machine.

When I set up my own house, I realized that there few tasks that can be akinned to the torture of Sisyphus and housework was one of them an never ending cycle of the clean becoming soiled, the soiled having to be cleaned over and over , day after day. I hate it…

“I do the dishes in my house, because nobody does them the way I do it,” this is a quote from either Bill Clinton or Bill Gates I am not sure, but I hate it…

Standing with sleeves rolled up and arms in the sink, is not how I like to end my day. My thoughts go round and round and it occurs to me, if I ever wrote a book, which I attempt every November it would of the stream of consciousness type and deal with an hour in the life of a woman, at the sink. I feel resentful at Mr. Tee and Jay as they plonk right in front of the TV while I am cleaning up the mess, of course nobody compels me to do it, but a sunk sink at 4am is not a welcome sight. More importantly I would be sitting on nails with dishes not done, or laundry not aired.

You know one of the wisest advice I received about kitchen chores came from my mother, “Do the dishes when you’re cooking” I visualize myself stacking the dishwasher as I cook.

I dream of buying that dishwasher. I have walked up to the IFB kitchen got the pictures and quotes, the only thing I get to hear…

“Oh! It is fine for us in US, even in US we don’t use it for all our dishes” one bay area house wife advices.

“Oh! It cannot be used for Indian cooking, our cooking is greasy” next NRI gyan.

“It does not really reduce work, you have to rinse the stuff and put it in,” — it cannot more frustrating than washing dishes already washed by the maid, because, “she travels by bus and you do not know if she who she was sitting next to”

If this Bosch demo was open to people outside Mumbai=Bangalore- or Delhi, believe me I would apply, if I know the dates at Mumbai/Bangalore I would still manage after all with my family being Bangalore based and my in-laws from Mumbai not a bad deal.

I visualize myself, recording the demo, and then asking those questions I have the check list

Can I wash the wok in it?
Can I wash the milk vessel in it?
Can delay the onset, — that really does not matter, for I can run the dishwasher and set the clothes washer to start when it is done.
What happens if the power goes off in between
How much of water will it consume – can have the used water collecting at a place to recycle it?
How much of power will it take?
How much of floor area will it consume?

But (my nostrils flared, fists clenched, rib tightened) BlogAdda, you deprive me of a chance to present my case to my family.

Think about this, everyone, wants to save the earth, but nobody wants to help mom do the dishes, and no matter how much I hate it, most discussions of feminism refuse address the question who does the dishes, yet at the end of the day those damn dishes are there in the sink and they have to be done!!

The only redeeming factor of the lack of a dishwasher is you get the ideal time with appropriate emotional backing to plan the perfect murder mystery … how else would explain the juicy murders penned by Agatha Christie?

To Categorize and Label

There are these constant prompts that ask what does blogging mean to you?

What made you start to blog etc. etc. well I stumbled and just started to typing.

Here I am sitting with my own Jeeves, taking control of my blogs, ”Well Ma’m you have too many categories.” Every self respecting member of the Drone’s club knows that it is essential to be classified and labelled, in short boxed, if you were not boxed you had others foxed, so goes the state of my blog… how do we slot these intellectual pictographs into longitudes and latitudes… How do you hold the moonbeam on the sand…

To be frank it is easier to categorize in life, for the categories can change quite easily, on exerting the grey matter, one figures, that changing categories is so easy that we can actually belong to every single category! We can become hunters, victim, masters, slaves, rich , poor, the lock or the key….it is absolutely do able.

Haa! I think I should try to categorize my blogs, like I said, since my tag line is travelogue of a gypsy, I can have blogs where I am the hunter, blogs where I am the victim, so on and so forth.

I actually considered the very medical college one, where we have six possible causes for every disease.

Injury
Inflammation
Infection
Infiltration
Iatrogenic
Idiopathic

This would let my readers know that I do possess something in the cranial cavity, lets not go into the right and left business, but Merriam-Webster crashed with members of the wannabe Drone’s club members looking up the meaning of Iatrogenic!!

Eventually I figured what has to be done has to done and I got down to it. maybe the best thing to do is go by hierarchy… like the classification of plant and animal kingdom. We categories and sub-categories.

I do agree that labeling, makes it easier to pick the blog one required …

”Jeeves ”I inquired, “maybe I should label the blog you know like the index so that it makes reading easier”

“Navigate, Ma’m people navigate through the blog” replied my Jeeves if “I may” he continued, “I would recommend”

Here is what Jeeves recommended, of course Jeeves belongs to the old school and he allows twenty categories, but the waitress at the choc-o-chip milk bar insists ,”NOT more than eight.” I wondered what one did with other 12, the girl tells me with a straight face, “place it as a sub-category”

Here is the home work I have to do, not more than 20 categories per blog, okay I scale it down to eight. And per post not more three, it is quite confusing when everyone tries to own something. Each category should not have more than three words, and ones with no posts delete the category. Wow, that sounds great.

At the moment I am under shock… just imagine having to weed the thousand odd blogs, and re-categorizing them… let me fortify myself with a strong tumbler of kapi. Frankly I did consider deleting all the categories but I am told by higher intellects that categories, are pivotal as the it helps the readers to explore the contents of blog.

Hmm if I have to sort it to various categories, they need to broad so I sneaked into indiblogger but what under the in the blazing sun would I write about business or IT? I am really suffering from a labeling overdose of labeling, let me start with the basic. What is my blog about..

Observation
Experience
Inference

There are things I have learnt, there are things I have seen some are handed to me, some are entrusted to me till the rightful claimant arrives, so how do I put these into rows and columns/ its about life so I guess that is where I find the pegs to nail it all.

I can do with all the help I get – If any of you do meet Galahad please do send him down to the Drone’s club oriental chapter post-haste.

Capital! Capital! Capital!

Missing Children

I met Mrs.Nirgudkar after a long time, she still looks angry not that I blame her, her son was kidnapped at the age 7 or 8, fortunately he was rescued, now twenty years later he was reported missing from an army expedition, he went on. she had received a letter from the army asking her to tell her son to return or he would have to face consequences, she just shot back a letter to the army chief and the defence minister that the last she saw of her son was when he left for the expedition, so the army owed her an explanation as to what happened to her son.

About 180 children go missing every day in India. Many of them never found. From 2013 to 2016 there has been a 84% raise in missing children.

May 25^th is dedicated to Missing children internationally. It is a public awareness drive to create awareness about missing children and spread a message of hope to their families.

This commenced when in 1979 a 6yr old boy Etan Patz was kidnapped and killed, his father Stan Patz resorted to all means to find him, including put a picture of the boy on milk cartons.

1998 the US national centre for missing and exploited children and international centre for missing and exploited children launched a global venture, and this network now connects 22 nations.

The first event in 2001 spotlighted the problem of child abduction and some steps parents could take to protect their child. The event annually honours the missing children and celebrates the recovered ones.

What worries me, is the raise in missing daughters of India, there is a huge increase in female foeticide, this is causing a imbalance in the male female ratio, there are states, that put hoardings like,”pay now, save later” to advertising for gender identification and female foeticide.

The missing daughters, particularly in northern states where dowry and expensive marriages are an issue, brides being imported from other places, religion, caste all social boundaries do not matter, the girls are actually bought off from their impoverished parents, despite dowry being the norm in these states and the only criteria is having a male child.

The missing daughters have resulted in an association of bachelors emerging and they are asking the politicians to eradicate unemployment, and female foeticide or yes, find ways to get bachelors married. I do wonder if these bachelors will go on to father daughters and send their to be born daughters to a prenatal grave!

The symbol of this event is the Forget-Me-Not-Flowers, so that people spare a minute for the missing person and spread a message of hope.

https://www.facebook.com/International.Missing.Children.Day/