Mansi

What ever happened to Toni Braxton? At one point, I believed we were beholding a diva and the next, it was all skin and affairs.
Now, what we have is Il Divo performing 'Unbreak my heart', first caught on V and today I caught them again on VH1. Il Divo take 'Unbreak my heart', a song I remember as a favorite Toni Braxton number, remove the emotions Braxton was so good at delivering and instead inject in a new wave.
It's not opera but it's very close. Known as a cosmopolitan cross-over pop-opera band, Il Divo is not just a visual treat. It's an oratory relish, and to hear men sing opera (domingo, paverotti, bocelli, groban) is to me one of the sexiest treats of all.
The only song I've caught on TV from this troupe is 'Unbreak my heart'. It's not in English and that's the first difference. It's not American either, opera never was. It isn't with women with bare minimum clothes, in and outside swimming pools, with nothing to lose in this world but their hearts.
And I've just begun to skim the surface of differences, which heralds in a refreshing new wave of music.

This troupe of four men, aren't anything like the boybands, both past and present. The video is about pride, respect, continuity and a different kind of success. Like one fan said - 'Of course, your average boyband doesn't have an average age of 35 and wear Armani..'

The songs are in Italian, Spanish and English. I'd say that the genre is somewhere between pop and opera - but the vote is out there for cross-over jazz, classical, pop and even rock!

When we think cross-over, most of us normally pick up Josh Grobin, probably because of his famous stint on Ally McBeal - - Il Divo is not about individual performance, they are about the group and that's a clear difference again. Together their voices are superb, highly explosive and they aren't shying away.

Something about the average age of 35 strikes a chord with me too. What do men about 35 really want to sing about? Nothing is more disappointing than men in their 30s and 40s pretending to be in their 20s. Il Divo isn't even trying and that's 10 points to their favor!

Lastly, and perhaps the most disappointing piece of trivia that is true, that I picked up, is that this troupe, dubbed the classical beatles are the new operatic vocal group from Simon Cowell's syco music. BAH! To add to my misery pot, this is what Simon Cowell had to say about the band, a result of a two year long talent search that brought together an American, A Frenchman (oooooooooooo la la), A Spaniard and a Swiss - "Il Divo have taught me more than I have taught them. I am actually intimidated and slightly in awe of their talent! I am more proud of this album than anything else i've ever been involved with, they are going to be huge."

Well! As much as I can't stomach Mr. Cowell, I can't really stop now can I? Il Divo is a great band and album and after listening to tid-bits of all their songs on Amazon, I am anxious to get my hands on the complete songs myself!

While the Cowell factor did dampen my enthusiasm for this band, I have decided not to let it shut me up.
So here's more about Il Divo:
1. David - He's the guy you see hitting the high notes, clearly American, the one 'boy-band' character in the troupe. Don't let that deceive you however. Just like his partners, he's a classically trained musician with a Masters degree in Opera Theatre! He's spent a good 10 years and more in New York and to his acclaim has been part of West Side Story (Tony - - good fit!) and La Scala ( Italy).
2. Sebastien - He's the Frenchman ( ooooooooo - though he's not my favorite). The only self taught musician, he was last seen in the production of Le Petit Prince and even working on a solo album. The troupe looks to him for original scores.
3. Urs - This Swiss hottie was last performing with the Netherlands Opera. With roots in HARD ROCK, believe it or not, he also undertook formal training in Amsterdam.
4. Carlos - Last, but not least, (and my favorite looker of Il Divo,) Carlos is the Spaniard who oozes charm and pride like only the spanish can. He's participated in the spanish versions of Les Miserables ( my all time fav musical) and many others. His opera repertoire is splendid, winning critical acclaim as Prima Baritono in many operas, including renowned works such as La Boheme, La Traviata, The Barber of Seville and Madame Butterfly. He also isn't another Enrique and heralds of a different Spanish flavor, spared from the emotional faux pas that is Iglesias Jr.

Allright, I've just seen one song and I think I've discovered gold???? YES! The first time I registered the video on V, months ago, I thought to myself, European charm is lethal. Compared to American opaque, this is vintage, deep blue, red and white. The video - 'Unbreak my heart' - is also done in a classy manner, reflecting on work ethics, pride and is all MALE. That certainly worked with me, and for the rest of it, they ooze their talent. There is nothing sexier than skill in classical music and this troupe has it.

While Grobin can keep his American audience, the rest of us are in for a treat.

This morning, I managed to drag myself out of bed and step out of the house. After two weeks of a maddening fever and too many pills, I decided to risk a brisk walk in my park.
Perhaps with about four weeks past, with no exercise at this park, I felt like I was in a different place. The barren feel to Delhi's greens was missing. Instead, I felt like I was entering a giant-size laboratory experiment. Every inch of the soil was green and some of it was even invading the pathway.
Evidently the result of our recent spell of monsoon, the greenery had taken to growth with a vengeance. Everything seemed rich and overdone, like a young bride or her older mother-in-law to be.
Walking is just not like running. There is no release, no internal combustion alike that which propelled the Apollo 13 to space. Running, a friend told me aptly, is meditative. It isn't about thinking but about not thinking. To feel blank and yet be supremely aware of your presence. So many times, I feel like I am being exorcised out of my own body. In that sense, it's a great relief and like a pressure cooker, except with the pressure off. As another example, it's akin to Alladdin's genie and his lamp. Running helps release the genie in you- the essence of all your magic. To be aware and to to 'be' the genie is the drug that keeps me hooked to running.
Walking just doesn't do it for me.
There is something terribly inspiring about seeing another person run. I know, I have grown up envying it, always playing victim to a bad back or my many excessive kilos. Looking back now, I know that it was inevitable that I would become a runner. Sometimes if that is the only thing I do, I feel it's plenty.
As I walked into my 32nd minute this morning, my thighs and calves began to shake. My body was hot under my eyes and I felt the sweat to do more with the fever than anything else. Perhaps the greatest motivation to go out walking was to put a check to any more weight gain. However, now I know, that it isn't really the weight that has me hooked to exercise. It's the desire to run. It's not the fabulous park either, with it's forest and flowers. Those don't do much for me. It's the running, the ability to blast off, even if it is at about 7km per hour (technically jogging).
I can't wait to start running again.

Inspired from a poem by Alexander Pope, the title of this film comes from a verse in the poem that goes like this:
How happy is the blameless vestal's lot!
The world forgetting, by the world forgot.
Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind!
Each pray'r accepted and each wish resign'd

I am sure you've heard about this film and I doubt you've heard anything ordinary, there isn't anything ordinary about this film. Plot, acting, direction, drama: for all of us who only want to be spared the simplistic Speilberg stuff, here's a real film.

War of the Worlds is running, Tom Cruise, Speilberg: I want out, is all I thought to myself. I don't buy the hype, I censor the right to hype. I like recommendations and passionate I dos. I don't want the Chanel wedding gown, or the three tier cake.

Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind is Jim Carey's film, from start to finish. While those with funny faces often try their hand at comedy, here's a funny face that is thorough actor in and out and who also can make you laugh your head off, as good as the very best of them. I've always liked Jim Carey. It takes a whole pot of talent and then sheer hard work to be Jim Carey.
In Hindi films and malayalam films, comedians are the ugly ones, the ones nobody would make heroes. There're not even good for villain roles though some do pass by as villains. These ugly ones then get to try their hand at comedy. Some find a new lease of life, and in so doing, teach us, crude audiences, a thing or ten about ourselves.
And then there's Jim Carey. Granted brown hair, a thin and lanky figure, non-descript but wonderfully large eyes might not be what a Hollywood hero needs to look like ( I'm thinking Tom Cruise, Keanu Reeves, Kurt Russell....)- - but what we have is a really classy actor. No doubts there.

This movie is just up Jim's street. He has the depth and breadth to play this role. He isn't just your wonderfully nice, next door kinda guy, he's also a child, a close to losing my mind stark raving romantic, and something else - He's as human as we are. Many times in the film, you will want to pinch yourself just to remind yourself that this is as much about you as it is about him.

The idea that our memories can be our biggest hell and heaven - the idea that we don't give a damn about that which is most precious - the idea that our relationships are wrought with 'happy - happy' stuck all over - - all of these ideas and more are explored in the most gripping and yet lucid manner.

This movie is a great watch and I can't thank HBO enough for actually screening it. What joy!

I want to get a hold of the soundtrack - - believe it or not, it has Mohd Rafi singing too. Kate Winslet -- She's not as there as Jim, but then this is a guy's film, all the way.

Last Night...
----------------
Not one for metaphors, atleast not those I had to 'grasp' in high school poetry, perhaps today I am at an age when I see no more and nothing short of metaphors all around me.
One of the last scenes of the movie - House of Sand & Fog - is shot over a bed, rich, gold and splendid. To the left is an Iranian Colonel. To his left is his delicate, still beautiful wife and somewhere to the center lower half of the bed, crouched as a baby is a young American woman.
This movie to me was about the ultimate dessimation of civilization.
We might be today a globe of boundaries and territories, but as a whole, we are still and will always be one civilization. Whenever we have rocked our world, it has always been about adding, extending or removing a boundary line - nothing more. Yet the impact on our civilization has been phenomenal.
In our civilization, there are some of us who've been here long, tempered by time and ages of learning. To today's children, we may seem irrational. Iran, Iraq, the Middle East and Asia, to name some of the current hotspots, represent this older civilization. The United States is on the other spectrum, the younger part of our civilization. The older civilizations are struggling in this new economy that favors the youth. Yet they feel no shame in leaning on their youth and hence transfering traditions forward. Their children will live in today's world but they will bring with them the wealth of their past.
[I see the same pattern being fostered between nations, where older nations seek the support of the younger, stronger nations in gathering together the traditions of our past and taking it forward for the benefit of civilization at large]
The United States today stands guilty of exterminating the old, the powerless. In face of any danger, the Americans respond with fear backed by the only force they have - military force - their only heritage in their brief history. They will use this force to get what they want even if as a culture, they possibly cannot know what it is that they seek.
In such fickle hands lie the dessimation of an entire civilization. Just like the museums and libraries of Iraq burnt to rubble and ash, the Americans in their fear will bring on us the end of all that we know and understand.
This is the message of the movie - House of sand and fog.
Everywhere we look today, especially in India, we see the hand of America. Seeing Manmohan Singh address the US Congress was more NEWS to us than watching an American president address any other gathering. Through movies, television, film, MNCs, retail and merchandise, we are being invaded by the American way. While I take no offence with success and some of us seeing it as the American Way, there is more to a coin than just heads.
9/11, the American embassy bombing in Sudan, the bombings in Indonesia and the recent London terror attachks - all point to the other side of the coin. The means certainly do not justify the end, it is too simplistic. American occupation of Iraq was the first of many firsts that like a tidal tsunami hovers over the life of civilization itself.
"He is a scared man. He is nothing without his gun." Lines from the movie apply to America, when hurt and provoked. The retribution in the movie is the life of a young man, the custodian of our civilization. Without him, our children, we have no identity. Without us, America will cease to be.
I was warned earlier that this movie would be depressing. I understand that now. I am depressed.
We have a scared nation ready to nuke just about anybody in order to get back that which was not only theirs to behold. America is but a deep crack, molten lava beneath, waiting to wash this world anew.

-----
This morning:

On further reflection, the concept of old and young, the circle of life extends beyond just nations. It is far more basic and modular to how we respond. It is a fallacy to think that the aged are rigid. Instead, I learnt that it is they who are most flexible when it comes to handling change. In contrast, their rigidity is their commitment to the good times, to take learnings forward. In order to do that however, someone needs to change. I feel as the younger generation, it is our role to step up to embrace that change. It is up to us to let go of our self-centered wants and desires, and instead brace up to accept the learnings of centuries past. We cannot afford to doubt ourselves and look to the American way. Theirs is a society of discards, runaways, wonderfully packaged into something they refer to as the American Dream. More and more we see them hijacking our heritage to make up for their lack of any. We are only eager to share, since that is our heritage, to share and partake of one circle.
I also see that I am coming out far more harsh against the United States than is warranted or even desired by me. Which brings me back to the circle of life. The conflicts demonstrated in this movie clearly apply to any society, group or individual. We are all changing, growing and with that comes the need to tranfer learning and knowledge, fears and weaknesses. Let us not exalt in our youth but persevere with our aged and partake of that which is for all of us to behold.

Dad is not fond of Hindi. Checking through customs at the Bombay (now Mumbai) Airport, I remember him responding in Kannada with a customs official who dared address him in Hindi. Who, he demanded, ever said that Hindi is our national language?
True to word, I got to hear about the three language formula from him again just last week.
Given that we don't believe anything that can't be found on the Internet these days, I dug up some policy information posted on the net. [source: http://www.languageinindia.com/junjulaug2001/school.html ]

The proposals in the National Curriculum Framework for School Education: 2000 relating to language are as follows:

The document states that the Three Language formula given below is still relevant and efforts should be made to implement it more vigorously.

The First language to be studied must be the mother tongue or the regional language.
The Second language
In Hindi speaking states the second language will be some other modern Indian language or English, and
In non-Hindi speaking states the second language will be Hindi or English.
The Third language
In Hindi speaking states the third language will be English or a modern Indian language not studied as the second language, and
In non-Hindi speaking states the third language will be English or a modern Indian language not studied as the second language.

Now, let's take an example, shall we? Our student Ramachandra is a resident of Kodaikanal, in Tamil Nadu. As per the three language formula, his languages will be as follows:
1. First language: Mother tongue: Kannada / Regional language: Tamil : Ram decides to pick Kannada since that's what is spoken at home.
2. Second language: Since Tamil Nadu is a non-hindi speaking state, Ram has to choose between Hindi or English. Given that Kodaikanal has a large, influential christian community who are all invested in reputed schools, Ram's parents believe that English will be a better option for him. It will give him easy access to a convent education and in addition help usher better economic opportunities his way when he's ready.
3. Third language: Again, given Tamil Nadu is a non-Hindi speaking state, Ram's choice for a third language is either English or a modern Indian language not studied as the second language. Given that English is his chosen second language, he then opts for Tamil which happens to be the regional language.
Example 2: Ekta Banerjee is a resident of Patna in Bihar. As per the three language formula, her languages will be as follows:
1. First language: Mother tongue : Punjabi / Regional Language : Hindi : Ekta, chooses Punjabi as her first language.
2. Second language: Since Bihar is considered a Hindi speaking state, Ekta will need to choose a Modern Indian language (excluding Hindi) or English. She chooses English.
3. Third language: Again, given Bihar is a Hindi speaking state, Ekta will need to choose between English or a Modern Indian language not studied as a second language. Hence she chooses Bengali
Following both case studies closely and it's various permutation and combinations, we can conclude the following:
1. It is possible for an Indian to complete her basic education (10+2) without ever taking Hindi or English or both. This basically means that no Indian is forced to study English or Hindi.
2. Regional language or Mother tongue gets the highest priority in this policy. Given that these three languages are not taught together but introduced at different stages ( starting with first, second and third), a student will have spent most years studying their first language which can be any one of the many languages we have in this country.
3. Every Indian needs to learn at least three Modern languages which doesn't include Sanskrit, considered a classical language. Though the education policy stresses the teaching of Sanskrit, it falls outside the parameters of the three language formula.
4. While there is a stress for Hindi speaking states to encourage the take up of a Southern state language as a second language, that is provided in direct competition with English. The same condition applies for Non-Hindi speaking states where Hindi is in direct competition with English.
Moving further, the education policy also stresses the vigorous implementation of the three language formula. To understand implementation, let's first understand the take up of the three languages in elementary education. [source: http://www.languageinindia.com/junjulaug2001/school.html]
Primary- 1 to 5 standards.
I and II - One language: the mother tongue/the regional language.
III-V - the mother tongue/the regional language.
Upper primary - 6 to 8 standards
VI - VIII. Three languages: the mother tongue/the regional language, modern Indian language and English.
Secondary Education
Secondary - 9 and 10standards: Three languages
Three languages: the mother tongue/the regional language, modern Indian language and English
Higher Secondary - 11 and 12 standards
Again, the implementation conveniently violates the three language policy by introducing English at Upper Primary and Secondary Education. However this is a minor point.
Let's take Ram and Ekta's example. Ram wants to take Kannada as his first language and Ekta would like to take up Punjabi. What is the likelihood they will find a primary school in Tamil Nadu or Bengal that teaches Kannada and Punjabi. Here again, we need to make a clear distinction between learning a language and mode of instruction. Considering that the first language is the only language taught in primary school ( 1 - 5 standards), it would be safe in assuming that the mode of instruction and the language learnt is both the same. Moving on to Upper Primary, Secondary and Higher however, there could be a huge distinction. English, Hindi or a regional language could be used for mode of instruction, even if the child is allowed to follow his/her language plan.
Which probably raises the obvious question in our minds - how practical is the three language formula? I'd like to draw parallels with the much abused term - Secularism: Where the ideal and the working reality couldn't be more different. While I personally think that the three language formula is great, in that, it encourages linguistic plurality and density midst our population, the ground reality does not allow for such visionary flexibility.
Come to the cities, the abyss of the human species [Rousseau], and one will find the options further restricted. Cities are in constant war - Should we stress regional language, national language (Hindi), or English and invariably, for economic reasons, English wins hands down.
I remember my professor in Architecture school commenting on how when we visit a family, the proud parents insist on their children reciting an English nursery rhyme.
This brings me to the crux of this entire debate. Where in all of this does the aspect of 'culture' come in? Research shows that we are most creative with our local languages. This has to do with not just the alphabets and words of a langauge (the syntax in computer speak) but more about how we string them along. Over many, many years, the syntax is no longer just alphabets and words, but whole sentences and the response these evoke in us. Whatever we are (our culture) is reflected in how we communicate. Ultimately, language is essentially a tool for communication and nowhere in our three language policy have we discussed communication.
If this looks confusing to us, imagine how frustrated the school authorities might be. Finding resources to cater to all of the linguistic needs of their student population is just not possible. At the most, their reach can extend to the child's home where they can influence a continuing practice. However a child is not just exposed to family and school. There is the whole world of media - Audio, Video, Television, Print. Do these media practice linguistic plurality and density??? Does every ad come in at least two languages? How many people do we exclude when we create an Advertisement in one language? How many do we exclude when we create an Ad in Hindi? The surgence of Hindi News channels for example is only valid in Hindi speaking states. Elsewhere, regional language news takes ultimate precedence.
With English the same is true to an extent only. Beyond that, there is an undeniable economic advantage that comes with communicating in the English language. I hardly believe that it is possible to live in India without knowing English anymore, no matter what field you work in. Just as all of the world is converging culturally, so is India too blending into itself. The Hindi speaking population in Bangalore is huge. The Tamil speaking population in Delhi is equally large. In our reflection, we all recognize the higher ideal of the three language formula which does NOT impose any one language on a student. However, when overlapped by economic pressures and some mis-appropriated intentions ( Religion-backed education systems: Convents, Hindu schools etc) one cannot deny the palpable tension reality presents us.
My niece completed her 2nd birthday yesterday. In our house, we speak Malayalam, Kannada, Tamil, Hindi and English. With my recent migration to Delhi, I've probably been bringing in most of the Hindi. My brother and sister in law who both have active careers also find themselves speaking more and more Hindi because of the overwhelming Hindi speaking population in Bangalore. Though, both maintain, that their advantage in this society lie in their grasp of the English language. This however stops at their paychecks. Beyond that, with social and economic relationships alike, they find the acute need for more than one language - preferably Hindi and a regional language (which again changes from state to state). English is no longer a superior language. I don't think it ever has been simply because we fail to communicate in English. Yes, it is economically dominant and I think, in our own ways, we are all dealing with that.
I started with the three language formula and perhaps in my own meanderings, I have completed a full circle. Embracing linguistic plurality and density is not easy. Ideals never are. I am reminded of a conversation from an old Dilip Kumar movie - Leader - which I especially liked. Dilip Kumar plays a young man, talented but disappointed with the moral and ideal pollution of India. He thus as typical of all youths thrives in rebelling against the norms of society. In conversation with a national leader then, he complains about milawat in just about everything. To this the leader asks him if the love he shares with his mother is also fake. Are the trees, the sky, the leaves, the earth - are they all fake? Change, the leader says, is brought on by men who have conviction backed by personal strength. The nation, he continues, has no use for young men and women who are only looking for ways out.
All of us in some point in our lives have felt this frustration against a system, a rule, a norm or even a particular group. We must then endeavour to become the change we wish to see in our society. Instead of constantly looking for ways out and around the three language formula, we need to embrace it's ideal in genuine commitment. Our schools, our institutions and our society at large only reflect our commitment ( or lack of).
Those of us who nurture fear or propagate a culture of scarcity are in my opinion the most confused of the lot. By learning a South Indian language, we do not compromise on our identity. By learning Hindi, we don't give in to the dominance of Hindi in this country. We will not lose out unless we are steeped in fear of losing.
Here's to the three language formula and our sincere commitment to it.

Dear Chitranjan, Hope you're doing well. I recently was in Chandigarh for a two
hour brief stop, between journeys. Our shatabdi back to Delhi was at six and we
were in town at about four which called for some 'drive-through' sight-seeing.
Since we were very short on time and it was 43 degrees out, we decided to just
go for the 'famous' rock garden. My visit there was spectacular. Starting with
the dedication to the 'creativity of Indians', to the design and navigation,
the rock garden not only met but exceeded it's fame. Where most Indian cities
have our old heritage on display, Chandigarh's rock garden was a refreshing
treat to our collective future. As with most exhibitions, monuments - the sum
total of our past and present national heritage, however, I fear that the lack
of a clear administrative vision is the most glaring impediment that keeps our
experiences of such sites from being fulfilling. Respect: To start with, let us
talk about respect. Wherever we go these days, I am shocked at the lack of
respect for our national heritage. Graffitti work announcing how much Pappu
loves Kavita enclosed in perfect shaped hearts ( practice makes perfect?) to
throwing waste (wrappers, plastic bottles etc) to inappropriate usage (couples
galore!) - - Witness to all of this and more at the Rock Garden (a tribute to
recycling) is indeed the most ironic blow I have experienced till date.
Whereever I went in the Rock Garden, I saw boards announcing a fine of Rs 100
for anybody who trashes the premises. Yet, not even these boards were spared
the graffitti treatment. Every other corner represented a mini dustbin in the
making. Kids and parents alike were walking around with bottles and bags, all
of which I feared would end up on this wonderful premises. As is obvious, the
fine is not a deterrant. Instead, I believe that it has in some ways encouraged
visitors to trash the premises purely on spite! ( Yes, we are a frustrated lot,
aren't we?) I believe that it's time to implement another strategy. Let us go
back to that inspiring dedication to the creativity of Indians, and start
afresh. Let us trust that every visitor to the Rock Garden will maintain the
highest of respect for the premises. If we know such individuals already, who
nurture good doses of respect with themselves and others, what do we think
these individuals would want to experience at the Rock Garden? Here are some
ideas on the top of my head: 1. Tell the story. Share the story of the man who
created this rock garden AD NAUSEUM. Have boards strewn all across the garden,
telling his story in pictures, audio files, video files and plain text even.
Sharing the story will, I believe, inspire respect in the hearts of the
visitors. 2. Educate visitors about recycling: Put up boards ( Mix and match
with text boards, cartoons, pictures, audio files and video files) educating
the visitors about recycling. Access the trash on the premises and put up
boards like '10 Ways you can re-use your empty plastic containers' which target
the items that people want to litter the most. 3. Include competitions at the
back of the tickets to ensure that kids and adults get to participate in some
recycling activity. As the King from King & I would say - -etcetera
etcetera etcetera. The information design here will need to be short,
multi-lingual and cross-media as possible (cartoons, text, pictures etc). I see
these boards as not permanent fixtures but as a project that is updated every
six months or less with more useful, educational information. Let us engage
with schools and colleges for material that can be considered to be put up at
the premises thus involving the community at large. Moving away from fee
deterrants (that I recommend we remove all together), I think we can also
encourage people to pick up trash as and when they see it. We can encourage
people to alert officials of trash (food that was spilt over, etc) In parallel
to my concern about respect, I would also like to address my concern on noise
pollution. In the middle of a hot summer afternoon, I see no reason why
visitors need to be put through punjabi songs blaring out of speakers that
would put a rock concert to shame. While I loved the experience of the mela at
the very end, with swings and stalls, I saw no reason for the extent of noise
pollution. Last but not least, the state of the toilets at this venue was
appalling. I fail to understand why we have absolutely no clue on how to
maintain clean toilets. The blame game (visitors blame officials, officials
blame visitors) needs to stop. While we're on this educational ride, I would
recommend we put some boards on cleanliness and 'how to use a toilet' for
example inside the toilets as well. I understand that all of this will require
a minimum amount of investment. This is where, Chatty, I see your firm come in.
As an upcoming profitable firm, I believe that should your employees be equally
concerned about the Rock Garden, you could look into investing time and money
towards implementing this initiative. Companies in Chandigarh need to come
forward and foster a culture of respect and honor the tradition of recycling
that is so splendidly executed at the Rock Garden. I do hope that you will be
able to take this initiative forward with the concerned officials of the Rock
Garden. Let the dedication of this wonderful park - to the Creativity of
Indians - NOT be in vain. warm regards, Priyadarshini R. Banati

Bangalore is a 21st century Indian hill station. The first morning of this two week stay in Bangalore had me up as early as at six on a Sunday morning, jogging shoes and all, ready for my run. While Sundays are traditionally my day offs, I have had too many skips to afford another day with no exercise.
The sun, my mom told me later, on my second round out with her for her walk (a la 8:30), doesn't bother the Banglorean till after nine. The exercise window in the mornings then is from six to nine - a cool three hours. Compare that with my exercise window in Delhi - 5:50 - 6:12am.
Bangalore is my home town turned city turned metropolitan. Each time I come back to this city, I realize how different it is to when I lived here. This is, what you'd think, natural of anybody's experience when they return to the city of their teens. In contrast, this time around, descending down from the skies, I felt a sudden burst of warm feeling. Unlike touching down at Bhuwaneshwar or Mumbai, no matter what I see from up above, I know what's on the ground. It is the recognition of a deep level of intimacy that is almost like a gene - the collective map of all my experiences in this city - embedded in my matter. I felt tears at the corner of my eyes. I wondered why I left to begin with.
As I got out of the aircraft and down the flight of steps, a cool breeze greeted me, floating about me, not curious, just friendly. In Delhi, I need to brace myself for the weather, no matter what season. In Bangalore, I don't have to even hold my breath. I can continue doing whatever it was I was doing, because the weather here (bar a few thunderstorms) will not be demanding.
The previous week, I had spent a hurried four days at Dharamsala. Running on that Sunday morning, I started to realize that Bangalore is a 21st century Indian hill station. In place of wayward tea stalls, one will find equally strategically located Shanti Sagars and Sukh Sagars. Opening early, purposeful, these are efficient machines, dedicated to brutal industrial standards. Be in dosas, idlis, vada sambar or the ever-popular coffee, everybody is allowed and catered for.
My grandpa and I used to visit the Shanti Sagar at Indiranagar. I'd take him, dressed in a black coat and white trousers on my bike to the Ulsoor branch of Canara Bank. Sometimes it would feel like all the pensioners of Bangalore (once known as the Pensioner's paradise) were there, ready to collect their dues. In the last few years of his life, Accha would sit in one of the back rows and let me take his pass book to the counter. The clerk would recognize the name and look up. I would point to the last row and my grandpa would (on cue) stand up. A curteous nod from the clerk would have Accha grinning, glad of some attention despite the tumultous times of change he witnessed all around him. The clerk would then direct me to the cashier counter with a round steel token. Grandpa would then move up and we'd both sit in front of the counter, eyes drifting from the electronic token display board to the many old and older people around. Sometimes I would take his hand in mine and just hold it. He liked that and I did too. When our token number flashed on the board, I would spring up. The transaction complete, the two of us would head out, hand in hand, to my bike. Once on, we'd take the long route back, getting on to the Ulsoor (Now Hulsoor) road and cutting into CMH. We'd park right in front of the Shanti Sagar and head inside to a two-seater table. Some days Accha would order a coffee. On special days, he would order puris too or even a masala dosa. I don't remember the conversations we had, they weren't important or long. We'd both then get back on my bike and head back home. Accha would get out of his coat and trousers, neatly putting them away. He would then pull out an ironed munde, comb the hair above his ears (for Accha was mostly bald) and lie down.
Running by the Shanti Sagar, I wondered if Accha and me defied their fast paced culture. Perhaps that's why I never wanted to order anything there. Unlike the Sagars in Delhi, where it is a sit-down restaurant, the Sagars in Bangalore are walk in restaurants. People come by, place their orders, eat, pay and leave. There is not much love lost between customer and waiters. Some sagars have no seating alltogether. Tables are placed out on the pavement and everybody huddles around sipping one by two coffee.
What about the mountains you might ask? Where can we find the sheer inspiration that the mountains can stir up in our hearts? In Bangalore I find the people's enthusiasm for technology inspiration in plenty. Just like the dualadhar mountains weave in and around one another, so does the built landscape of Bangalore peak up and down, almost falling upon each other. Driving down airport road, that was many years ago my cycling route, I couldnt keep track of the Intels, IBMs, and Accentures. Almost every STD booth also doubles up as an Internet cafe. No matter bike, car or bus, someone is carrying a laptop. While my Mom laments the Internet, she is in the minority. Mom wanted to go for Parineeta today and she cursed the Internet when I told her the show was sold out. It's the Internet, she wailed, robbing her of her ticket.
Just like the hills, the floating population at Bangalore is considerable. Just like the spiritually inclined tourists will stay back for the extra month, the technology inclined equivalent will try his or her luck with Bangalore. Italian football teams, 'Get with Bangalore' guides written by American consultants at Accenture, this city is still not demanding of its visitors. It is still inviting, ready to jolster up another baby onto it's hips, despite cramps and weak knees.
To Bangloreans, the weather is a curse. It's never too early to pull out a shawl, nor too late to just about everything else. Allergies, common colds, spondilytis and for everything else, there's Devi Shetty and Nimhans. To everybody else, this is great holidaying weather.
While Bangalore rivals any hill station in just about every aspect, the one true winning aspect above all else, is the quality (or lack of) of our roads. While in a hill station, one can lazily gaze upon boys and young men herding goats or riding donkeys in and out of potholes; In Bangalore, we have motor bikes, hurdling their passengers in starts and swift runs to their destinations. Nothing idylic there. It's all about being possessed and honking at someone ahead and clearly to your right!!!
All in all, its early days yet but I think this trip is going to be more about me than about Bangalore. There's a part of me that fears that I might admit that I didn't like Bangalore to start with - or another that feels that this city was not good for me. Whatever the case, it will be a bitter sweet parting. Bangalore will not hold on and I, forever one to let go too soon, too easy, might just refuse this time around.