Tag: Cochin

  • Ends and beginnings

    Work took me someplace where I normally wouldn’t be found – an AOL (Art Of Living) discourse. While I have nothing against those who choose that path, I don’t see myself there. Standing there, as a non participant while a few thousand listened and performed yoga, I thought I got a few pointers to what made them a part of this movement. One was a feeling of belonging to a community that had the same wavelength and subscribed to the same thought processes and the other was a meaning, a purpose that the movement gave to their life.

    Since it was an official event, I got dropped back at home, and in the process got to do something that i rarely get to do – forget the road, the traffic and the world ahead and soak in the effect of humanity passing by. I don’t know if you enjoy what could be uncharitably labelled gawking, but if you pause and consider that each face, and each expression contains a story, maybe you’d enjoy it like you do.

    I passed Resthouse Road on the way, and saw Pecos and Guzzler’s Inn, not places I frequent, but places that are ‘tagged’ in my memories of Bangalore from the time I came here. As i proceeded down Brigade Road, i also saw the signage of Vaayu, a lounge bar, and thought I could see a difference in the crowd that each catered to. I realised that after a while, after a few generations had passed, Bangalore’s character most likely wouldn’t include Pecos, although we would, in our denial of mortality, not think of it that way now.

    I reached home, and after the obligatory channel flipping settled down to Rocky Balboa, the comfort of a ‘seen before many times’ movie that will let your thoughts drift and you still wouldn’t feel left out. I never thought I’d quote from a Rocky movie, but it seemed to fit in

    Ya know they always say if you live in one place long enough, you are that place.

    It stuck to me when I watched Delhi 6 the next evening. An old woman comes back to her country-city-locality to die in peace, in a place that she’s familiar and comfortable with, and finds that the place has remained unchanged, but the people haven’t. And it took me back to this post that I had written a while back – on Cochin and the cosmopolitan place it was becoming.

    So, where will I be comfortable finally – Bangalore, where I have now spent 6 years (almost to the day) and where I will (at some point in time) have lived long enough to ‘be the place’, Cochin, which I refuse to let go of, whose memories I guard like a treasure- the chaotic, humid, gets-on-your-nerves place that I consider my home, or someplace new that the cosmos has in store for me. A place which gives me a sense of belonging. A set of people who matter to me and who I matter to. And that’s where this stream of consciousness ends.

    The cosmos is listening. From the list of 143 songs in the list, on ‘shuffle’ mode, it has suddenly chosen Daughtry’s Home.

    until next time, are we on the same home page? 🙂

  • Home is where….

    He enjoyed the cosmopolitan version of Bangalore. One of his favourite haunts was Indiranagar. When he’d first come to Bangalore, Indiranagar’s 100 ft road had lots of trees and a few brand stores. Now the situation had been reversed. And it wasn’t just brand stores, there were restaurants – fine dining and cafes. Yes, he did hear residents complaining ever so often about how Indiranagar used to be a peaceful locality until a few years back, and now the retired folk rarely dared to come out. It wasn’t just the noise, the bustle and the pollution, there was also the problem of how costly everything had become all of a sudden. He understood their plight, but couldn’t really sympathise with them, after all he enjoyed the cosmopolitan Bangalore.

    He loved Cochin, it was the place he wanted to retire to..later, after all it was his hometown. In addition to that sentiment, there was something fitting about dying in the place you were born in, a kind of closing the circle. When he walked the streets, when he talked to people, when he looked around, he knew that he belonged to the place, and  in spite of some things he loved to hate, his love for the place was quite unconditional. But he wondered what was up with these new malls, cafe coffee days, swank cars, swankier apartments and a cost of living that was aiming for the stars. The place was, damn, becoming cosmopolitan, and he didn’t like it one bit. After all, this was the place he wanted to retire to, and he had made an image of it in his head, which he didn’t want changed.

    And thus the realisation that the cosmos always has the last laugh.

    until next time, a homing device

  • The Grand

    It’d been quite a while since I’d visited The Grand, so on this trip home – Cochin, I’d decided to give it a try, especially since the food there has always gotten rave reviews, and it was about time I made my own judgment. It is located on MG Road, since 1963,  so its a landmark for most auto/taxi guys.

    We reserved a table for 8pm, and were told that they wouldn’t hold it beyond 8.10. Fair. The crowd actually started coming in after 8.30. The menu is exhaustive with separate sections for Indian, Kerala, Far East, Continental, Chinese and so on.

    We ordered a velvet chicken and corn soup (2/3) and a Talomein Soup. Pappadams on the house while you wait. 🙂  The former is a chinese preparation – chicken broth flavoured with dry sherry, and the latter is a combination of shredded chicken, carrot and celery garnished with spring onion. The (velvet chicken) soup was quite good, thicker than I expected, and quite sufficient in terms of quantity. For the main course, we decided to go all Kerala.. ‘when in kerala….’ , and so ordered a Malabar Kozhi cury, an Erachi Varattiyathu, a Meen pollichathu, and a Tharavu Mappaz. Thats four kinds of living beings – chicken, beef, fish and duck respectively.  🙂

    So, the Malabar Kozhi Curry is a spicy North kerala dish, which turned out to be only moderately spicy, that was a disappointment. The Erachi Varattiyathu is cooked beef,  with onions, but with enough flavours to keep it from being bland. Better. The Meen pollichathu (you have a choice of seer or pearlspot) is fish with (usually) a very spicy paste around it. Its actually the paste that gives this dish its character. However, this time it was just some sort of onion preparation and ended up very average. The saving grace was the Tharavu Mappaz (they have a ‘duck’ festival happening here) which was duck cooked in coconut milk. This one was yummy, and the ‘chatti’ (earthenware) that they brought it in did add to the effect, I think. We ordered appams to go along with all, and though I was tempted to have a Kerala porotta, the appams were tasty enough to discourage any steps in that direction.

    But more than the food, which was reasonably good, though not the spectacular I had hoped for, it was the service that disappointed. They took such a long time bringing the main course that I had to ask them if I should be back the next morning to collect the order. (Yeah, I seem to be a bad service magnet these days) But they were pretty good in a very mercurial way, refilling glasses on time, bringing appams alongwith the additional order (not earlier and letting them get cold) and so on.

    All of the above cost us Rs.1200, which was reasonable that 4 people were quite well fed. When in Cochin, its worth checking out for some authentic Kerala food.

  • Walk of Life

    What perhaps distinguishes our species from others is the straight backed walk we have… the only things that come close are the other primates.. even from a human growth point of view, parents are always waiting for the baby to stop ‘toddling’ and walk…
    In today’s cubicle to couch existence, there is very little walking we do.. no, moving between cubicles or climbing stairs is not the kind of walk i am talking of… a couple of kilometres of walk was more the kind i had in mind…i have always liked walking, but usually never find the time.. yup, my natural laziness does its bit too :).. and so when i do get the chance, and find that i had a lil time to spare, i go ahead.. and walk..
    almost a year back, when we shifted house, i had a chance… its amazing how you can ride along the same roads for 3 years, and still notice things only when you walk… the little bylanes, small shops, and most importantly people.. almost at the end of the walk, i saw the flyover… another symbol of bangalore’s development and human progress in general… it had a sign that said a lot about our existence – no walking on the flyover..
    last week, when i went to kerala, i wanted to take another walk, in time and by foot, through the roads of the city i grew up in… i could do it only in part, and therefore didnt get to see how much it had changed… maybe its good in a way, i wouldnt have wanted to see how much i had changed..
    until next time, keep walking

  • Striking….

    There is a university that i was once a part of, no, make that twice. Once, when i spent years 3 to 13 living there –  discovering a world on a tricycle, climbing buildings under construction, playing cricket for hours on end, walking among rows and rows of acacia trees, listening to grown ups talking science and mathematics and politics, going to kindergarten, feeling all grown up when going to school, discovering a world on a bicycle, seeing people walk by with red or black flags and wondering how cool it must be to carry a flag and shout on the road.

    The second time, a much briefer timeframe – 6 months, coming back to a wave of nostalgia, to a world I had spent time discovering, to walking up the stairs of buildings that were constructed almost two decades ago, to getting tired after a few overs’ spell, walking among rows of buildings that once used to be the ground on which acacias stood, listening to grown ups talking management, to feeling grown up when doing post graduation, seeing people walk by with red or black flags, and realising how childish I was when I thought it was cool, because by then I had been there and done that…

    A few months back, I saw a newspaper headline that the university had been shut indefinitely – it seemed most of everyone were on strike, against each other – students, administrative staff and the university registrar, who had been manhandled by a set of students. The students were on strike for something that should be as far away from academics as possible – politics. The exams had been cancelled, and if this goes on for even a couple of months, perhaps this year, there wont be a convocation at all in the university.

    Now the university has silent rows of buildings, and kids waiting for their exams to get over so they can play cricket, cycle around, discover a world, listen to grown ups and think how cool itwould be to carry red and black flags and shout on the street.

    The university has always had people with flags, it still has them. Can’t blame them, it takes time to understand that flags ain’t so cool. Like most things in life, it is a lesson that can’t be taught, it has to be learnt. That takes time, and a part of life itself.


    until next time, dumbstruck….