Yesterday when i was waiting, most of the voices around me were speaking Bengali. It has been some time since i have heard this many. I was in C. R. Park and i shouldn't expect to hear any other language. Hindi is also heard but Bengali drowns it.

I was walking by Market 2 after a month or so. There was a small traffic jam there. The way of entrance was by the fish stalls, and i covered my nose. I did smell the inevitable whiff. I headed to a store to buy something, where the person in-charge spoke to me in Bengali. I didn't bother telling him i was not one. I saw people sitting, buying fried savouries and sweets from a Bengali sweet shop. A friend and i used to visit this place every weekend in the evenings. We ate, drank and talked. One thing that surprised and disappointed me about that place is that tea sold in the tea stall is not very good.

This is something i miss. I miss spending time in C. R. Park. I still can go to there but, i would be alone and that's no fun at all. The markets in Delhi are very attractive in the evenings. Alaknanda Market too. There's nothing fancy. That said, the crowd and more importantly, the atmosphere there is really appealing.

When people here ask me if this is my first visit to Delhi, i tell, 'No'. Then i go on to say that i was here about fifteen years ago. I don't know how to say this exactly, but the impressions of that visit does not hold true anymore since Delhi's changed much over the last few years. Almost everybody i've talked to here is of that opinion. That said, it's not that i don't remember anything of that visit. I remember the Bahai House, where i first tasted Mountain Dew. I have faint memories of Chandni Chowk and Karol Bagh where we shopped. Coming to think of it, i do recollect more than i assumed i could, which is quite good, as i had thought they had faded into forgotten memories.

Nice.

People ask me whether i don't miss home. Considering that India is not in the neighbourhood of western Europe. Of course, i miss home, but not desperately. Yes, there are instances where i so want to be home, but those are a few. Thanks to the internet, i see my folks regularly and talk to them.

Home is always there. I can go there anytime i want and still nothing's changed much. Both the people and the place. The red-oxide floor, the well and my room. Amma asking us what we'd like for breakfast or the sit-down dinners. I do understand that things will change, but you do get my point, don't you?

I remember  the first few times i traveled to Bengaluru from Mysuru. The first thing that i would do was to go around the house to see if everything was the same. I had the impression that i would find things different when i went home. You know, you are not in that place and somehow you tend to think that the table in your room is by the window or not. Then i realized that things will be as they were, that table stays where it always has. I guess this knowledge comforts me to a huge extent.

When the season of jack fruits presents itself, with the heady smell of the fruit wafting in the air, i'm reminded of Mysuru. The chips that are available at stores here in Bengaluru are hard and improperly fried.

A friend used to get home-made jack fruit chips for us. And we made it a point to remind him to do so even if he forgot. That's when i actually started enjoying then.
We used to fight for our share, or rather, for more than our share. I can taste them now. Fried to a perfect level, the sweetness of the fruit, the gentle sprinkling of salt and red chilli powder.

Wow!

We all know how well-known Malgudi Days was, or rather is. I don't think i've watched the entire series, but i would like to. One of the greatest productions of our time. I'm immediately transported to that world on listening to soundtrack which played at the beginning and at the end of each episode. The ta na na na....

I wish that some channels would air it regularly, otherwise a huge population would miss out a legacy. Today's kids would enjoy it the way we did. Running behind Swami, listening to his grandmother's stories, and eating sweetmeats at Jagan's Stall.

It's been a little over five years since i started blogging here. Whenever i used to see others write that they have been blogging for some years, i used to picture myself in their shoes. Not that it is something very significant, but i created such images in my mind regularly.

When i read the posts that i have done, from the beginning, i'm surprised with the content that i have exhibited. Whatever made me write them, including the comments. Perhaps, a little childish, if i could say. Obviously that was then, and this is now. Five years is some period of time where attitudes change, perspectives change, thoughts are different, their levels are different. At least this is what i assume it to be. And, now, I know that i simply can't write in the same fashion that i used to.

I really hope that my recent posts don't sound preachy. The forthcoming ones too. And hope you stick around here for some more time.

It's no use comparing times. When one compares today with that which existed a few decades ago in terms of food, prices, culture, lifestyle, education, health care, nothing results from it except for bitterness. Each person thinks her/his times are the best. Maybe, would want to relive it, which is totally impossible.

I've noticed that elders complain of the shortcomings of our 'times' and everything associated with it. But, literally, there's nothing that one can do.

When mother was away, father and i used to eat out every Tuesdays and Fridays, after art class. I would be tired at the end of the day. Having to cook, eat, clean after about eight in the night was not very pleasing. And i had to prepare food for the next day. I so wish we had bought our refrigerator then, my job would have been simpler.

So, Tuesdays was doses at Vidhyarthi Bhavan, and Fridays used to be the Kamat at Minerva Circle or at times, Jayanagar. And our stomachs remained stable even after all that eating out (i had doubts on that). That was our routine, and after some time, i didn't favour the doses at Vidhyarthi Bhavan much. The chutney that they serve, i don't fancy it.

The autowallahs in Bengalooru have changed. Quite drastically. They have the lost the appreciable touch of being friendly to commuters. Quite like the scene in Mysuru or Chennai.

Before i went to Mysuru i used to praise our autodrivers. They really never demanded extra unless it was after ten in the night and they never denied a commuter his journey to a particular place. It's the opposite these days. Not a nice feature, this. Guess this is part of urbanisation, and we'll have to simply accept it.

During my B.Sc. days, Mrs. C from the Chemistry Department explained a single topic for an hour. Mrs. C was assigned Physical Chemistry for the 2nd and the 3rd Year (i don't remember which semesters, though). She was a little silly, i guess. We were to remember the three C's when in her class. One for Chemistry, C herself and the third being a calculator. Most times, we hardly carried a calculator, which was a necessity during Physical Chem classes.

She was annoyed the first few classes. But, it ceased afterwards. Her classes were fun.

Well, i have been thinking of this incident which occurred a year ago. If it's okay on my part to write about it or not. Perhaps, that was the first time when i felt the effect of a death on one's house. I do know that the people connected to it will never glance here. Nevertheless, i didn't want a solemn affair to go public. Now that some time has passed, i'll put it across.

I don't remember the exact date when the death occurred. But i recollect the passage of events like it happened yesterday. A neighbourhood lad in his twenties had died in a freak accident we learnt. Shock hit us from the blue, while we witnessed his folks mourning his loss. Sad and distressing. I have lost my grandparents, but the surge of emotions that i went through at that point of time was quite surprising. What a tragic end to the bubbling enthusiasm, to the youthful fun-loving adolescence. A single moment in time, and anything can take place.

Somebody's existence can effect us in weird ways. I immediately contacted my friends and requested them to be very careful while driving. Maybe childishness drove me to do what i did. One appreciated my call and the other found my mail very funny.

The fragility of human life.

Now that the festivals are around the corner, i miss the journeying-to-Bengaluru bit. The trains would be filled beyond its brim. And there was this excitement in the air amongst us in Mysuru as that was the apt time to travel back home. More than half the size of my class comprised of outsiders hailing from various geographical locations. We used to cancel classes, in fact my professors themselves did that at times.

On finishing the short visit to one's house, stories would be shared along with eatables brought from different parts of Karnataka. I was always asked to get something prepared in my house. But seriously, there's nothing really specific to Bengaluru in this aspect.

When i see people scurrying to their towns to celebrate the festivities, i'm reminded of my days.

The kind of power cuts that we have these days in Bengaluru is unimaginable. We need to keep track of the time when we have power during daytime. Doing anything is quite impossible as we are dependent of machines/instruments which demand the use of energy.

A few days ago, Bengaluru had uninterrupted power supply even during the summer. And Global Investors' Meet and other meets take place. Where are we headed?

To spot a scooter (a Bajaj scooter) on the road is rare these days. We all know that they've stopped production of scooters. With most people opting for motorbikes, i guess it was logical for them to do that. At the same time, it takes some time for folks like me who've seen scooters during their growing-up years to digest this.

At home, we had a Bajaj till a few years ago. But, i still remember Bajaj's advertisements which were synonymous with their scooters and motorbikes. I guess, we'll recollect their slogan and the jingle for a long time, ad even perhaps share it with the next generation.

When i was in college, people told me that those were the best times. ONe would carry fond memroies through out life. I shrugged. I didn't think so. What was so magical of college life? thought i.

I realise now. I recollect them with gladness.

Having studied in Christian institutions for fifteen straight years, i never got to celebrate any Hindu festivals with classmates and faculty as such. But, Mysuru was different. We celebrated Ganesh Chaturthi, Ayudha Puja, Saraswati Puja (to name a few) readily at our Department. This was very new to me. Celebrations at home are pretty low key as well.

Nevertheless, i started enjoying them. The teamwork that we put in, well i should say, it was remarkable. We came to know our class better.

I was reminded of this incident that occurred when i was in Class Ten by one of my classmates. I still wonder as to how dumb my Math teacher was to have remarked so. Here's the entire story.

S brought Polo to class everyday. And she would distribute the mints amongst us. There were times when we had to persuade her to be kind to us in this regard. It had become a practice, i guess, to eat Polo daily.

Now coming to the event. Mrs. P taught us Math (she was a bad one), and she was teaching us when this happened.. K and i were getting bored i guess. S used to sit in the row behind us. And we started pestering her to give Polo to us the in the middle of class. I had this strong feeling that Mrs. P wouldn't harm us if we were caught in the act. So we got some mints from her. I was in the process of popping them into my open mouth when Mrs. P saw me. The next thing she said, 'Are you eating naphthalene balls?' I told her that we were not and they were simply mouth fresheners.

One thing that i still don't understand is: Why would anybody on God's Earth would eat naphthalene balls? She and her observation, wow??!!

A lot of greenery and very few people around reminds me of the Western Ghats. Luckily, i've been there a couple of times. The lush green that surrounds one, the quiet sounds of the dense forests, the wetness of the damp earth there, describes nature in a most pristine manner.

Few weeks ago, i went around one of the localities on the outskirts of Bengaluru. A lonely road, with no soul visible on it's sides, some bushes and trees lining the road, i was taken back to the verdant locales. Only to see a building after a bend.

Times were good when i was in Mysuru. I've had memorable moments. Then, i had the opportunity to visit a few locations in this geographical area. During the rains. To visit them again would definitely be a delight.

I've got a stock of pens and pencils. Some of which do write while others don't. I don't know why i cling to them. Some sentiment perhaps. I really don't know why i cling to them (maybe i don't, i can label this attitude of mine as simple ignorance). I always think of clearing them up, but think ahead of the times when they'll serve me (which hardly comes by). Hence, i retain almost all. I can see pens from my under-graduation days. And there's a certain storage area(read dumping area) where i store them. My mum reminds me to discard them often, but i refuse. I'm extremely lazy in this context.

However, there's one advantage, i find one almost everywhere, i don't have to carry one with me all around. But, i do wish to turn around.

When we were small, my grandma and later my mother cleaned wheat, rice; spread on the floor. Picking up small stones, husk and creating tidy piles of cleaned grains. As young children we were asked not to move around, as the grains would collect dust, and more importantly, we would scatter them with our act of running. With the television set on, they would go on for long periods of time, accommodating a change in their position now and then to avoid a stiff back.

We used to pop in raw grains munching on them until we were warned of stomach aches. After chewing on wheat for some time, we would be surprised to find gum inside our mouths. I think we were told these were healthier than the gum that is sold. Of course, we didn't believe that.

These days, nobody cleans grains anymore in our house.