Un-visit to Shivneri Fort

The road was narrow. On one side were the steep hills and a deep valley on the other side. Our car moved slowly up the slope. I went click, click, click, like some curious tourist, clicking the pictures of trees, stones and leaves. Most of my pictures will be deleted ofcourse, but thats the advantage of having digital camera. As we neared our next site, I adjusted the setting of my camera to get different look. What setting I should set for our next site? Portrait? Landscape? I had read about Shivneri fort and was curious to visit it. It seemed like an important historical place to visit. This is the place where the great Maratha warrior Shri Shivaji Maharaj was born.

Shahaji, the father of Shivaji Maharaj,a general in Adil Sha of Bijapur sultanate put pregnant Jijibai for her security in Shivneri.Shivneri is a hill fortress with steep rocks in the mountain ranges of Sahyadri.

As we neared the historical site, we were in for a surprise. Such an important tourist spot and there was too much commotion. The honking is the next most famous passtime of our drivers in India. if the FM radio is not working due to poor reception in their vehicle, you will hear them honking for some music. a person with musical ear might rubbish this honking as irksome noise. But for un-musical person, there was a reason. There was no parking space, not enough space to drive through the road to reach the steps! All I saw was traffic jam.

Big huge tourist buses, scrambling for space with different sized cars, trying to reverse in small space to escape the mayhem, little wonder that the expert drivers were not plunged down the deep valley to give me some extra-ordinary shots..

My friends complained about the 700 crores rotting in Swiss banks when they could be easily used to beautify the tourist spots and create jobs for low income groups.

"Are not the authorities in the higher place aware that there are thousands of tourists who would be interested in visiting such historical places." grumbled my friend, "The least the government could do was to build a proper infrastructure to make the people’s life easier and pleasant."

There was open space one kilometer away from the actual site and those who braved to climb up the fort to appreciate the site had to walk a mile in the hot sun to board the comfortable vehicle which was parked so faraway.

Had I climbed up the fort I would have seen the museum and also a Badami Talav, my friends went up there and came back panting, sweating and grumpily shared their experience with us.  
 

I was not that brave to climb those steep and high rocks they called steps. I am a delicate darling and only pure comfort will suffice. I chose to wait in the vehicle, rather than climb up the fort and then walk back one kilometer in hot sun. I shut myself  from this commotion by switching on my smart phone and entering the virtual world, reading the comments of my friends on twitter and facebook. The face-to-face interaction in the real world is diminishing nowadays and online virtual friends walk into my mind to scream their rants. When I woke back to the real world surrounding me, I sat listening to the endless rants of my friends who complained non stop about our inefficient system of government and their insensitivity towards common man’s comfort.

I could not solve their woes and I am sure nobody will.

It happens only in India

Shopping for my niece

Who says women like shopping? It is such a boring job especially if you have to shop for others.

These days I am shopping for my niece because she has no time. She is studying medicine in Spain but needs some good clothes for her sister’s wedding and its me and my sister who are aunting.

My sas says she has found one nice store at Elco market in Bandra. I wriggle my nose. I don’t like that flashy market, it used to be nice market once upon a time, but now it has lost its charm. Every time I walk inside the Elco Market, each store assistant opens the door wide, inviting me to walk into their store and I am too embarrassed to refuse. I like to do window shopping but I can’t stand those grinning faces.

My sas and I enter the store where she wants me to have a lookie, lookie….

I really have no intention of buying from this store but when I enter, I see some nice kurtis at reasonable rates.

I ask for a seat.

The store keeper gives me few magazines, asking me to select some designs and he is willing to ape exactly the same pattern. The ‘picture in the magazine’ stares back at me as I try to fit those dresses on my niece’s imaginary figure. I am more interested in seeing intricacy of his work. He shows me his collection of ghagra cholis, mermaid style dresses, embroidered kurtis, saris, etc. The fashion keeps changing and every time I am out window shopping, I have seen new designs, new styles, and newer cuts. There is lot of creativity out there. Every fractured piece becomes a new design and miraculously it works fine. The craftsmanship of the tailors is amazing. There are quilted, embroidered work laced with colorful stones and pearls, some sequences of different shapes, entwined into the collage of typical ethnic styles. The designers use their skills to combine different colors for best visual effects.

As I leaf through different designs in various books, I am not impressed. I have some style of my own,( yes I do design sometimes) etched in my head. I ask for paper pencil and sketch the pattern for the designer to see. I have made five layered, pleated net gown with brocade border and matching belt. The brocade is laced with white stones at the edges. Next I draw brocade corset with halter neck and a long stole of net with brocade border. I select different shades of blue asking him to give a shimmering blue petticoat under the blue net skirt. I ask him to work out the cost.

He takes fifteen minutes to work out the cost of the garment that I have deisgned and then gives me the figures.

I faint

I think he is crazy, how can a simple garment of just net, brocade and stones cost Rs12000?

I spend another thirty minutes bargaining.

We arrive on a common ground of Rs10500.

It’s crazy. I have never ever worn such an expensive dress. I wouldn’t waste so much money on clothes which I might wear just once.

Well aunting is a tough job. Can’t disappoint my niece!

Dare I??

Eating Out at Vientiene Loas

Red, pink, yellow, white, there were flowers of all colors everywhere, rocking slowly with the breeze in the lawns, Christmas lights circled the tree trunks, announcing that the Christmas is just round the corner. Neat, narrow, concrete paths, leading to the tables where diners enjoyed the ambience as they munched on their meals. I waited patiently for diners to hurry up, finish up their meal and vacate their table, so that I could start my dinner. I was starving. There was no table vacant. This seemed like a popular venue. Here I was, at Poysian Pulkone, a Korean restaurant in Vientiene Loas.

One thing nice about visiting new places is that you are eager to try new cuisine, especially the specialty of that city; I am always ready to brave a strange meal. Many times, the food may not suit me and I get bad stomach/ allergies from too much adventure but that does not discourage me from trying out new dishes in new places. So here I was, in the restaurant famous for its BBQ cuisine. Every table was fitted with a gaping hole into which they inserted tumbler of burning charcoal, as soon as the new set of diners occupied the table.

Plates containing peanut sauce, salads, garlic, ginger, shallots, deep fried brinjals, steamed green chillies, a tumbler of clear soup, and assorted meat filled up every area of the table

A perforated soup plate was inserted on the charcoal tumbler,, and thus our table was set for BBQ in which we were expected to roast the assorted meat on perforated centre and soak them into the soup on its' sides.

A vegetarian person is most likely to starve here ( just sit at home for quieter meals) while others can roast the meat, fill the soup plate with the clear soup, add all the greens, and everything that is on the table, lace it with all the possible condiments to relish the taste.

It was a delicious meal and I think I did take an extra mouthful. (hafta watch my weight) I couldn’t help turning my head at ninety degrees to watch slyly at the next table. They were enjoying too

Origami Birds

On our return from Ventiene Loas, we spend a day at Udon Thani, from where we were to board plane back to Bangkok. At the ticket counter, there was a bouquet of fresh flowers which were mainly orchids, and in between the flowers there was a small bird in origami. So tiny that it was surprising that my cousin observed it, she plucked out the tiny paper bird and pushed in my hands. The girls behind the counter were amused. They pointed to more such tiny birds in other bouquets and each time my cousin plucked it and placed it in my hands.

We went through immigration and waited for more than an hour in the waiting lounge.

When the announcement was made for boarding the flight, we stood in line. The girl, whom we had met earlier at the ticket counter was now waiting at the exit to check our boarding pass. When she saw my cousin, she smiled and presented her enclosed envelop.

There were 20 more birds made in origami by her, all made from flyers

Happy journey she said, smiling once again.

Celebrating Children’s Day 2010 Virtually

I remember celebrating this day with gusto when I was a kid. Every year this day would be celebrated in school with snacks (popcorn, wafers, glucose biscuits and candies), some balloons, gifts, games and same boring speech by our principle.

Every year we would hear the same story that November 14 is celebrated as Children's Day across India to mark the birthday of India's first Prime Minister Pandit Jawaharlala Nehru. He loved children very much and was popularly known as 'Chacha Nehru' (Uncle Nehru)!

Every year I would hear our teachers say “Children are the future of tomorrow, you must grow up to be good citizens” and I would anxiously wait for the future when I would be fully grown up.

But I never grew.

The child in me refused to grow up. (what to do?) I am still excited by the rainbow on a cloudy day (yayaya!!). I will still run after a colorful butterfly. (Yipeee!) I still laugh heartily at a good/bad joke (Hahhaaha). I still get annoyed when people ignore me(eeewww). I will still cry/sob when I am sad.(sniff! sniff!)

This year, children’s day was on a Sunday. Normally, my virtual world is closed on Sundays.

Sunday is the family time and I try to avoid going online as much as possible, (although not always successful). There are moments when I peep into my smart phone for a while, stealing some moments from the family time. And with BB within my reach, it is easy to do that. Actually I don’t do it but that child in me does it. (So not my fault at all)

Thus, at the end of the day, when I finally went online on my desk-top (the proper proffessional way), I saw that I had missed a great party.

The great party was at twitter board.

People had tweeted about various things they did #wheniwasakid and (I had missed it, but noworries) I was happy to tweet on this hash even though I knew none of my friends were there online.

#whenIwasakid I would steal baby milk powder and eat it secretly when aunt would be asleep

#whenIwasakid i never knew how to swim or went for any extra class

#whenIwasakid I always worried abt fan falling off from ceiling n crushing me

#whenIwasakid I was afraid of every person in uniform, be it police or a nurse or even a nun

#whenIwasakid I was terribly afraid of earthquake and had tied mom's pallu to my little finger n followed her wherever she went

People had chatted about the things they did in their childhood at #bachhpan too and had posted their childhood pics. It was interesting to read all those tweets. My friend saw me online and asked me to post my childhood picture.

I didn’t have any.

Perhaps my family was not very rich or maybe I was not that pretty enough for my parents to invest money on camera or maybe- both. I don’t have any childhood pictures. There are few pictures clicked by rich uncles and aunts who must have visited my family during that time, but there is none of me alone. But since my friend wanted me to upload my profile picture, I stole one from baby wall-papers on net and posted at a collage titled twitter #bachpan 2010.


I was happy to see my picture in that collage

When I visited google to search for a picture of babies, the picture on the google page was a pleasant surprise created by 14 year old kid from Mangalore-Akshay Raj who won the second Doodle4Google India 2010 competition!

His logo was up on Google India's homepage throughout the day. He named it as 'My dream for India in 2030'. I must appreciate his thoughts as it clearly speaks of his dream, his maturity at such a young age. The logo simply sums up every aspect of growing India

Last hour of the children’s day was spend reading about my friends childhood memories and having a good laugh, and like every other day, I need a midnight feast, walked to my kitchen to extract a box of sweets , thus ended the day with a bite of cold sweet laddoo – sinfully

Find me at twitter at pushpz