Author: manuscrypts

Andamanned – Part 2 – Nagaron ke beach main

My sarcasm regarding the airport welcome, it seemed, wasn’t totally lost on the resort staff, as two people waited on/for us at Havelock. In about 20 mins, we were at Island Vinnie’s, on beach #5 (alias Vijay Nagar beach). On the way we passed Beach #3 (alias Govind Nagar, which also serves as a market place for Havelock). Havelock, I’d say is Goa without the overdose of tourism. Coincidentally, I was reading Michener’s ’Chesapeake’, and was at the part where the coming of the white man destroyed the paradise the Indians had. Later, when I would remark (sometimes) on the lack of options in Havelock (compared to Goa), I’d also wonder about ’progress’, and how its positives and negatives are such a subjective thing, as is the answer to the question ’where to draw the line’ when it comes to change and progress.

Meanwhile, though the watch claimed 5.30 pm IST, it was already dark. Obviously nature cares two hoots about IST, not unlike the Indian nature. My body, however, seemed to understand the new time very well. I was famished, and we had an early dinner at the newly opened ‘Full Moon café’ at Vinnie’s.

Though some of the menu items had still not made their debut in the kitchen, there were enough options. And it felt almost like home, because Vinnie played ‘The Prestige’ by popular vote. Dinner watching a movie. We disappeared towards the middle of the movie. No one applauded, thankfully. D wanted to get up in time for the sunrise. She was told that it was at 4.45 AM. The early bird might get the worm, but on my sleep I was firm. All vacation days are like Sundays, I get to see the sun at a time of my choosing. Hmmph. She did get some awesome snaps though.

We’d planned a snorkeling trip at Elephant Beach, so my snoring stopped at about 6.30 (!!) and we set out at 7.30. We got there to find out that the Navy guys wanted to do some shooting there, with real guns, so snorkeling was not allowed on that day. I remembered the Army guys playing spoilsport in Leh. I wanted to argue with them that they had a vast sea and many uninhabited islands to do target practice, and that I had my own shooting plans, but the gun silenced me. Talk about Navy Blues, thankfully, our resort staff took us to a nearby place which they said was equally good. Unfortunately, though, D betrayed her fishy star sign. She gulped before we got into the water, during the time we were underwater, and after we got back into the boat, when we were given samosas. No, actually, underwater, she behaved like the South African cricket team. She choked, but thankfully only after we did a fair bit of snorkeling.

We got back in about four hours and spent an hour on the resort beach, where you could go a long distance into the water and would still be only waist deep in water. We had read about the Red Snapper restaurant and decided to go there for lunch. Its five minutes away from Vinnie’s and worth a visit. The Goan fish curry and the full Bluefin Trevally with Chinese sauce are highly recommended.

We got back and I napped (my default mode during vacations) a bit before going to the famous beach #7 (alias Radha Nagar), about 9km from Vinnie’s. I think the hype set stellar expectations, and I found it to be less impressive than say, Palolem, in Goa. Forget Goa, the beach at the resort was way better, I thought. But I managed to film “A Snail’s pace” there, and D managed to get the naariyal paani, which had been eluding her all this while. At just Rs.10. We had hired an auto for the entire trip, and the journey, especially the return, on winding roads, with glimpses of the village life, gave me quite a sense of peace. At a price, of course, Rs. 500, for the to and fro journey, and a wait of an hour and a half.

httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uyvkAUOtzbU

When Vinnie got to know our travails, starting from the ferry fiasco, he offered to knock 50% off from the ‘Meet and Greet’ package, and give us a complimentary trip the next day to see the mangroves. We accepted the latter and enjoyed it, more thanks to David who took us to Wilson Island, an amazing little place.

We had a largely forgettable lunch at Seashells, and finally, it was time to say goodbye to our little hut.

To be continued….

November 5, 2009
Andamanned – Part 1 – The Chennai conditioning

I could say “No man is an island, yet Andaman is” or I could say “No man is an island, nor is Andaman, it is a group of islands”. Bwahaha. Forgive me, all that time in the water must’ve diluted the brevity of this twit. Either that, or the brewed stuff that was also consumed occasionally. Really cheap stuff, that’s apparently made in AP – light Gult stuff that won’t make you feel guilty.

As per the status message across platforms, I was off to Havelock, away from keys, I wouldn’t get bored, though I wouldn’t be surfing, because I’d be watching surf, and waves (of the non-Google kind). Ironically, the first notable event was meeting a fellow Twitterer. 6AM finds me groggy, if awake, flight or no flight. Anyway, since my display picture across networks is an initial, I’m usually saddled with the responsibility of initiating conversations with people I recognise. I remembered this person because of his awesome puns (like this gem), so it was good fun to suddenly turn and ask him ‘Are you Partha?’, and to see him looking at me curiously. If he wasn’t Partha, I was prepared to give the 6AM excuse. But he handled it pretty well when I introduced myself as the handle he knows on Twitter. So, at the high altitudes where birds usually tweet each other, two Twitterers ended up having a normal chat. It turned out that he was off to AP, and as his profile states, he is into ‘consumer research to help sell beer’. Beery eyed and bleary eyed, we landed in Chennai.

Chennai usually gives me a warm welcome, okay, that’s an understatement, it’s a bloody hot one. So its kind of insulting to insinuate that Chennai gave me a cold, but my sinuses are proof that the Chennai airport, which seemed to be making a desperate attempt to get rid of the ‘bloody hot’ (no, that doesn’t make it anti Channel V) tag, was on freezer mode, almost did. Every time I found a relatively warm corner, it did a Sub Zero (from Mortal Kombat) move on me. It didn’t help that our flight was delayed. On the board, the time never changed to the new time. From an earlier adventure, I had my doubts and I finally asked the KF Help Desk what time the flight was expected.

“You can go for the security check, sir”, she said, “the flight will take off in less than half an hour”

“So, why don’t you change the status on that board”

“If there is a delay, we don’t change it, sir”

It was only about 9.45 (during vacations, sleep-wake patterns are deferred by about 2.30 hours), so I didn’t trust myself to have heard correctly. Anyway, it was a welcome break from the real time status updates on Twitter and FB. So, we made the flight, and though we didn’t expect a meal on the flight, we actually got breakfast. The only disclaimer is that when they announced ‘alpaahar’, they really meant it literally. After they served the meal, I thought I’d ask the air hostess for the main course, but D played spoilsport again. Oh, okay, I couldn’t be mean to anyone who gives me a chocolate mousse anyway. 😀

Andaman didn’t quite hit it off with us in the beginning. I was quite worried. After our sulk with Goa, we’d planned Andaman last year, but that’s when D reacted violently to the idea. I was afraid if there was some jinx involved. There was a driver from our resort at Havelock, he was holding a placard that displayed the resort name, the snag was that he was looking for a single foreigner, and I failed on both counts. Obviously D was partly to blame. After all the passengers had left, we were left looking at each other, and he finally took us to the ferry. Mis-communication, we were told, but fortunately, we didn’t miss the ferry to Havelock, they had tickets. There are only 2-3 that ply daily, and even boats worked like a well oiled machinery only when palms were greased. The rishwat ka rishta with the mainland, I was touched. Apparently, getting tickets was a real pain, and that was what had prevented Havelock from becoming like Goa.

The boat had a a/c and non a/c options (within the latter, there were even a couple of 7 seater rooms, with what seemed like lounge chairs). We couldn’t see outside from the a/c section (which was at a lower level) but realized its worth only on the return trip. Moreover, we could move around the deck with no restrictions. A vast ocean, dark, angry, choppy, an awesome contrast to the equally vast, light blue, calm sky. The journey takes two and a half hours, and somewhere in between, D wondered if she should try these instructions on me.

To be continued……

November 3, 2009
Kungh

The BJP central leadership is in a crisis state. In the state of Karnataka, the BJP government has dissension in its ranks. Its a bad time for the saffron party, but all that didn’t stop us from visiting Kungh, a restaurant on Castle Street, serving Kashmiri cuisine. Eh, connection? From Pampur, thirteen kilometres from Srinagar, where it is cultivated, it comes to us – Kungh (pronounced Kong), Kashmiri for saffron. 😀

To get there, get on to Richmond Road at the beginning (Lifestyle) and then take the right on to Castle Street. Some set of government guys seem to be digging there for that treasure, but you should get parking in one of the side lanes.

This is the second ‘Saffron‘ we’ve encountered in Bangalore. Its an absolutely unpretentious place and somehow manages to convey a very homely feel, which is reflected in the way they treat customers too. They suggested dishes and combinations, told us what would be sufficient, talked to us about the ‘wazwan‘, (which I remembered reading in Salman Rushdie’s “Shalimar the Clown”) and generally made us feel absolutely comfortable.

So, on to the menu. There are starter options in veg, cockur (chicken) and maaz (lamb). The veg options consists of paneer, cauliflower, potatoes and mixed veg. (Rs.50-100). In chicken, you can choose from the special fried chicken (waza cockur), the boneless tandoor grilled chicken, (troosh cockur), the spicy version (talith cockur) or a cashew grilled version (kaju cockur) (Rs.150-200). In lamb there’s Tabaq maaz (fried ribs), seekh kabab, barrah kabab, or the pasanda kabab. (Rs.150-250)

For the main course rus (gravy) options in veg consist of bottle gourd, brinjal, palak, mushrooms, potato, priced between Rs.75-100. In chicken you could have qorma, malai or kungh (Rs.150), and the mutton options consist of rogan josh, dhaniwal qorma, marchwangan qorma, rista (dumplings in spicy gravy), or the yakhni/goshtaaba. (Rs.175-200) There are also a couple of daal options. (Rs.50-75) To go with that, you could choose from roti/naan/phulka or rice (steamed/kungh or kabab pulao) While we went through the options, they gave us a complimentary kahwa. Amazing stuff, that!!

We started with a seekh kabab (“minced lamb grilled in tandoor and fried). Extremely well made – smooth, cut into small rings, and with enough flavour to make it probably the best I’ve had in Bangalore. I was tempted to order a waza cockur, but there were too many things to try out in the main course. So we ordered a Kungh Cockur (spicy gravy), a yakhni (“lamb dumplings in yoghurt gravy”), and to go with that a naan, and steamed rice. We ended up ordering one naan later. The chicken dish was excellent, but the yakhni was definitely the pick. A great combination with rice. The meatballs were extremely soft, the ‘melt in your mouth’ kind, and had a good combination of spices that lent it a very unique flavor. Highly recommended.

In addition to dessert options which included kheer, phirni, khubani ka meetha and a badam meetha, you could also try the kungh lassi/nimbu, kahwa, sheer chai, or the noon chai (salted tea). I asked for a khubani ka meetha, but was persuaded to change my mind to a badam meetha, and it didn’t disappoint. D had a kungh sweet lassi and she’s got a new favourite drink. 🙂

All of the above cost us Rs.700. Definitely worth a visit, for a unique cuisine and some excellent service.

Kungh, #332, Castle Street, Ashok Nagar Ph: 41126043

Menu at Zomato

November 1, 2009
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until next time, island this week, i land next week 🙂

October 28, 2009
Arbor

Sometime back, when I’d written the post on Onam, I’d mentioned a story that deserved to be told. About an old school pal R who has composed a wonderful soundtrack for a recently released Malayalam movie. He’s been composing for over 2 years now, probably more if you count the non-film work he’s done, but when I listened to this soundtrack, I was glad to note that I was proud of him. No, not pride by association – of knowing him, but actually proud for what he’s done for himself. I was glad for him. And so, I was glad for myself.

R and I share a history, which starts with a shared birthday, so it used to be that our ‘color dress’ days in school used to be the same. He also used to stay in the university campus, which, in case you haven’t noticed, is a constant handle for my nostalgia trips on this blog. R was obviously a very good singer, actually he was a little beyond that grade too. I still remember the time when for some class talent show, R and I were asked to teach group songs to our respective classes. R did a fantastic job, while i just taught the class the song – everyone sang everything. The difference was harmony. I didn’t know it then, I understood it later. Meanwhile, like me, R also played cricket. My tryst with that bloomed late (high school) and lasted only a few years, as far as official teams went. I wonder if he did something about it. Oh, okay, I just read through what I wrote. No, I refuse to make myself an underdog on my own blog. 😀

The learning part of school life was obviously the most important, not by choice, but still….and as those primary/secondary class reports would show, I used to be the topper, modesty be damned. Add to that, the school junior hockey team, quiz, debate, Dumb C later, and being the quorum filler for things as varied as Malayalam recitation and News Reading (yes, we had that as a bleddy competition item, would you believe it!! Maybe I should sue that school, those certificates can be quite embarrassing) and you could imagine why my attention was spread thin. But wait, let’s not overcompensate. 🙂

Anyway, R and I parted ways when i changed schools, though we used to meet later for most of the inter school festivals, where on one hand, I’d be shouting out Dumb C guesses, and minutes later, would be desperately trying to remember the lyrics for the next few lines I had to sing for the music competition. Once I also noticed him in the Western (Group) music part of the competition, and I went WTF (the school kid equivalent actually) on why there wasn’t a Bollywood part, since the only English lyrics i knew then were …..erm, nothing. 😐 After school we completely lost touch, and a nice little music rivalry, in which he used to kick my a** regularly, except for stray upsets, ended.

A few years back, a nostalgia wave hit our batch, and a classmates e-group was created. Nice people that they are, they sent me an invite and I joined, even though I’d spent only 5 years in that school. That it remains my favourite school is a fact, though. Anyway, that’s where I heard the news that R had composed his first movie soundtrack, back in 2007. And now begins the role that R played without his knowledge – the reason for this post.

When i heard the news, a part of me was happy, but that was only a small part. The larger part was insanely jealous. This wasn’t like any of the stars/celebrities I regularly read about, I knew this guy, I had shared the stage with him and competed with him. And here he was, on the way to becoming famous, while I sat blogging about paths not taken!! That was when I looked at myself, and really bothered to take an objective look- as objective as i could be then. I realised it wasn’t the first time that this insane jealousy had happened. From wittier one liners to cooler jobs, the feeling had expressed itself many times, with different people. Sometimes fleetingly, sometimes for long stretches. Each time, it lasted till the mind gave itself a reason to stop being jealous, on why there was a flip side in their lives too. Bizarre ones sometimes, in desperation, but reasons nevertheless.

But from then on, I have been watching myself. It happens now too, in fact, on one front it is worse, because the proliferation of social networks means that there are more people I am now connected to – Twitter updates, Facebook statuses, vacation photos, all have the potential to get me launched into a ‘why is his shirt whiter than mine’ phase. All this, when on most fronts, I have nothing to complain about in my life, silly twist in my neck, notwithstanding. Initially, I tried to control the envy, give rational reasons – what I have gained and what i have missed on, and deliberately shut out things which would make me well, insanely jealous. From experience, the control is a myth, and the worst part is that it creates layers of denial. The massive risk is the day when it explodes in your face.

So these days, I don’t control, I admit to myself that I’m jealous, and wherever I can, i tell the other person too. Thereafter, the interaction is a delight. I get to know the hard work they’ve put in to reach where they have, I realise I can be genuinely glad for other people, and there is a sheer joy that can be experienced. Sometimes I am rebuffed by people too. I have also realised that the more i acknowledge, the lesser I get envy attacks. I still get them sometimes, but I think the path is right. On a tangential front, I am also trying to leave expectations from myself open.

A strange thought occurred to me while I was writing this. Maybe its just me, but with this sudden outburst of sharing and connectedness, are we increasingly living out a life that we want to portray to others? A “Hey look, I am happy, everything is perfect in my world” approach. Even the sad statuses are filtered, like the ‘negative things about yourself’ in job interviews. 🙂 How much of the happiness is in the sharing, in the feeling that others might be envious? Are we going that way? If I don’t share and don’t expect any returns, but I can still be happy about something I have experienced/done, would that be joy? And as a next step, if I can go through the same experience without the baggage of expectations, would that be the objectivity I seek? Each second a new life? Beyond conditioning? Possible?

R’s story loop needs to be closed, eh? On request, he has sent me a karaoke version of a song I liked in the movie. I have promised to sing the vocals… for myself. And a story that deserved a joyous ending. 🙂

until next time, R bit ends for now 🙂

PS: For those reading this on the blog, see that new thingie right below this. USE IT :p

October 21, 2009