I was in a nearby park in the evening today where I interacted with a school-going boy who was there with a friend. The boy with whom I was talking was talking a little gibberish and then I missed Mysore.


My friends also spoke gibberish and do so even to this day. And now, when I am in the north and my friends down south, I miss such talk, although it does not make much sense. Its just a couple of people yapping away. It makes you feel glad.


I miss writing. The last weekend, I was at the Sangeet Natak Akademi and listened to some beautiful music on the shehnai. It was soothing. Also saw a nice Kannada play. There was a festival going on where they had invited artists from across the country.

Scenes from Fort Kochi - 1


A boy turns his bicycle near the cobblestoned pavement in front of the police station. His face lit up when the cycle and he started to rattle when he pedalled on the cobblestones.

I was in meeting all day today. Initially it was ok, but as the day worn on, started being restless. Got a notepad and a pencil from a friend and was sketching different people's backs for passing time. As usual the back-portraits that I sketched were bad. When I was learning drawing, as much as I wanted to do good portrait sketches, I couldn't. I don't remember if I did spend considerable time learning it. Guess, I was disappointed at not making headways and began to try out other media like watercolours.


I developed a fondness towards watercolours when I was attending painting classes at a place in Basavanagudi. And started improving my techniques. I wish I can paint watercolours. You might have already read a couple of times here.


Now, coming to what happened at today's meeting. Did a few sketches. Then I went on to show the paintings I have here to a few friends sitting beside me. When I was doing this, people sitting behind me also had a peek on my phone.


What I am will say further is completely on another topic. I was reading something on the the Indian President's current visit to Israel and Palestine. And i also tried to read on Syria. But the cellular network inside the room where the meeting was held was so poor, that my plan of catching up on my reading went for a toss.


Would it be very superficial if I said that the kind of life that a person leads is a factor of where he is born and is something over which he has no control over? Actually, when one ponders on it, a human being is born who develops an identity and a character as she/ grows into a person. People have no control over their birth, as it is humans that are born and not people.

on what I have been doing

Yes I am writing less these days. I totally forget about my blog for weeks together. And then one day, it occurs to me that I have a blog, and then i think of looking it up. Since the past few weeks, I have been thinking of looking my blog up, and today it was.

I have been reading more. I read more current affairs since more than a year now. I am also trying to understand economics. When I want to read I try to look for unbiased media which i think are very few. I avoid CNN and the US media which screams bias even through their headlines. I would say that the British media is better.

A week ago, I read on the farmer suicides in Karnataka. My eyes welled after reading a particular piece. After a couple of days, I was talking about caste-based reservations at work. The backdrop was the Patel community agitation in Gujarat. And the person with whom I was talking to was surprised when I said I support caste-based reservations and it has to be moderated in the light of misuse. I am of the view, that the forward classes of the society who do not have sufficient economic means should have some sort of reservations where the system can help them. The same day somebody posted a tired joke of how easy exam questions are for the reserved classes when compared to the general. I flared up a little and expressed my displeasure on the biased joke.


Having said all this, when we have an equal society where my education and my job prospects are at stake, in all probabilities, I will turn a hypocrite.

I sit on one of the million terraces in Delhi, bend my head backwards to see planes fly by. Guess the airspace above the area I stay is the route which most flights take when flying in or out of Delhi.

I can hear two-three cars honking. As I type, the number it vehicles just increased. It will continue until the jam there is resolved. People love honking here.

The terrace is surrounded by trees, thankfully. As vehicles drive on the road two storeys down, that part of the road, rather that part of the foliage lights up minimally. 

I am sitting cross-legged on my bed. When the skin between the two calves of my legs between to sweat, i change my position. I don't actually, i give them a few seconds when unfolding and then i cross them again. I am listening to a Kannada song sung by SPB and Chitra, and once again decide that both are fantastic.


Read a mishmash of things in the afternoon today. Will read more tomorrow. And maybe post something sensible.

It's revolting to see people spit on the road in Indian cities. With the time i have spent here, i think that people in Delhi spit more than in Bengaluru. And the stains are coloured in red, as people eat pan a lot here (i don't know is this is actually true, but this is my observation).

I expected Connaught Place to be free from this, considering it's central location and it being a tourist attraction. Fat chance, really. At the bottom of those majestic-looking white pillars, we see splashes of red.

I think I am on the verge of getting a headache (or i'm feeling plain lazy), or something like that. I had a cup of tea in the morning and i have been wanting another cup since i took the last sip in order to wake up my senses. From morning, i feel that i have been doing things zombie-like. I like the tea they serve here. Only here, of all the teas i have tasted at a few places in Delhi (which is not much actually). They boil the tea leaves with ginger which adds that extra flavour, making the whole experience of drinking hot tea all the more enjoyable.

At other places, tea kinda sucks. It's like drinking a hot solution of sugar, with the taste of milk somewhere (sometimes lost) and absolutely no hint of the taste of tea that is normally associated with the beverage. It was a revelation - not everyone in the North knows good tea. We, from the South (or atleast i) assumed that the whole of the North knows how to brew fantastic tea. I am of the opinion that the tea served at Roti Ghar or the other places in Bangalore where i drink tea, is not bad at all. In fact, the tea that we there is pretty good.

I sense that something is moving on the backside of my palm. I assume it's an ant and look at my hand. It is an ant, one belonging to category of the brick coloured ones. A whiff of air and the ant is removed to some place. Maybe the red floor of my room. It is not red, it's darker than the colour of terracotta.

I assume i've lost most of my reading habit. Yes, i did read short stories in Kannada for a week or so. I must have read about five-six stories, before i went traveling. It was difficult to sit at a place for a few straight hours. Maybe, it was the reading in Kannada which i found tedious. I was really enthusiastic about reading in Kannada once i decided to come back to Bangalore. I have a variety of options here at home.

Now, i am reading Feluda stories hoping that i may be drawn to reading again. If reading in English attracts me again, i can switch to Kannada. I think so.

A bunch of people have established a Ganesha pendal in my neighbourhood. It's not yet eight in the morning, and we have the loudspeakers blaring out devaranaama in the praise of the Lord (am i not showing respect/reverence by starting the words with capitals?). Of course, this is much better than to be woken up to this at half past five or six in the morning which used to be the case during childhood.

I don't know why people of the older generations (my parents and their parents) even had the number of children they had. I simply can't think of any reason. I understand i'm writing on something that i've written about before. The reasons could be plain ignorance or the lack of knowledge. Even when there's no proper food or roof over the family? To see an infant die due to the lack of medical facilites? I don't know.

I saw Calcutta 71 today. Abject poverty and still four kids. Is it really the strong need to have kids? To have another being of one's own flesh and blood, to gain fulfillment when you see your kid playing in front of you? In that case, a couple of kids are fine, i think. I can't figure it out. Maybe i'm immature and it's early for me to think about these things.

Maturity is a difficult thing. To learn it and to practice it. The benefits are there, but we seldom understand it. Benefit is not the right word, it makes maturity sound cheap. But, i can't think of any other word now. I guess, there are instances in everybody's lives when we wished we'd been mature. Wishful thinking.

At the end of it all, one wouldn't others to undergo the same kind of anxiousness or strain that one experiences. A one-time experience is enough for one person. A second person under similar pressure and uncertainty can be really rude.

Today, i noticed a pigeon lying on the road. It appeared to have passed on today. And it looked quite it's actual shape. Except maybe it was flattened to a tiny extent.

I saw a dead rat on the road the other day. And i saw the same today without it having moved an inch. The animal was flattened to the likes of a flat sheet of iron. I guess, hundreds of wheels would have rolled over it. But, the outline was really distinct. Similar to a flower or a leaf that one preserves between the sheets of a book, until it is pressed to paper-thin thickness.

I admit here that i don't know anything of the new-age processing of photos, the softwares used, the (super) kind of cameras available for this purpose.

I was seeing pictures on blogs, a few days ago. The photos had undergone some processing which made them appear like acrylic paintings that I've seen. The usage of bright colors, a surrealistic look and some detailing.

This is my opinion. Somehow i don't like photos treated the way they are. I don't know, but the 'effect' of a photo disappears once this occurs. The naturalistic feel. And it does not look like a photograph again.

Another season of mangoes has gone by. This is perhaps one fruit which we simply cannot resist. Even when one has a bad stomach and mango is not suggested as part of the diet, a tiny piece of the golden fruit has be eaten. Whatever maybe the consequences! And i know somebody who does not like mangoes at all. I still wonder how and why! How can anybody not fancy them.

Today, i had the last fruit. Hope not, when father visits the market tomorrow hope he brings some more home. They can end the season.

The main light in the room blinks frequently before it actually brightens the room completely with it's white fluorescent light. The blinking happens irregularly, until maybe if enough voltage runs through the wires the light burns to it's full strength.

When the blinking occurs, the computer also gives a faint 'click' sound. And then, the light is switched off as one begins to think that other electronic devices might get damaged.

After watching a just-about-okay The Social Network, i wondered if it deserved any credit for having received awards supposedly given to outstanding films. I didn't find it overwhelming, and it's just the story of how a website came into being. It's not worth more than a one-time, or at the most a two-time watch, not more than that.

It's like Chethan Bhagat winning a Sahitya Akademi Award or something like that. Plain mediocre.

At times, i like the Google page for the doodles they put. Very creative and colourful, i should say. Since yesterday they have a guitar on their page. it is played as and when the cursor moves on it's strings. Nice!

Do see it if you haven't already. And play it.