BEGINNING MY BABLING (In the guise of a travelogue)

‘Fantastic’ and ‘very impressive’ were my feelings as I took my first look at this country. I am not sure if they are appropriate and express my feelings perfectly but have used them because they were the words that came out of my mouth when my niece asked me over the phone, what my feelings were, on taking the first look at this country. I am not able to sum up my feelings correctly in two words but think that they do the job quite well. She told me to start whatever I write about this place with those two words and I have done that. She did me a favour. I had no idea how to begin and really did not mean to sit in front of the monitor and start typing at 1.30 AM. Jet lag has forced me to. Every one at home are sleeping and I am typing after tossing and turning on the bed for two hours before falling off the unusually thick and soft mattress. I have a faint doubt that my wife, whose sleep I was disturbing, might have had a hand in it.

Now that I have stated writing, I am likely to continue and post them from time to time. If you like what you read, thank Sushma for giving me a beginning. If you don’t, blame the jet lag. (No originality here. Poor imitation of “padagoL chendaagidre endak sifaarsi. Chandaagildidranaka tapge bevaarsi – Sri GPR”).

I had read so much about the United States in magazines and books and had seen so much in the movies and on the television, I was sure that it would not impress me very much. I knew what to expect. And I had thought that jet lag was something that the rich, who comfortably travel in jets, had invented just to have something to complain about . I was wrong in both these assumptions as I am in many other assumptions. With the first look I was bowled over by the country and the jet lag has terribly upset my sleep and bowel movements. I have a feeling that I will remain awake for the next six weeks.

I had planned to begin my babbling in strict chronological order starting with the flight from Bombay to Frankfurt but find myself in a place from where I do not know how to proceed. Just as I was when I found myself in front of a glass wall through which I could not pass while confidently leading my wife to reach gate A67 in Frankfurt airport. I did manage to find a way through the glass wall - no chance to pat my own back. I just stood staring at the wall and it opened on its own as soon as a train arrived on the other side – and am confident that I will find a way to proceed if I patiently sit in front of the monitor and stare at it long enough.

RO -RO Ferry

Today’s headlines need no explanation to those living in Goa. The existing bridge across river Zuari at Cortalim ( On the Panaji- Margao highway) is being junked (it has been a junk since the last ten years with only light traffic, two wheelers and pedestrians being allowed to cross it) and the RO-RO (short for roll on-roll off) ferry service is planned at the place to cross the river. The ferry will carry trucks, buses, cars, people, cattle, dogs and what not and our politicians hail the project saying that the heavy vehicles which had to take a detour via Ponda need not do so any more. They say that It saves time, fuel, driver’s energy etc etc and reduces congestion on the smaller Borim bridge and Ponda - Panaji road etc etc, blah, blah blah. RO RO service is another feather in the cap of our politicians and citizens of Goa are lucky to have such leaders who can provide such facilities.

I have no intentions of contesting their claims, intelligence, foresight and other qualities but my memory does not allow me to keep quiet.

When I entered Goa twenty five years back, there was no bridge across river Zuari at Cortalim. There was a very efficient ferry service which used to carry buses, cars, trucks scooters and people free of charge. We used to alight from the bus at one bank of the river, get into the waiting ferry along with a truck, a bus, few cars and a dozen scooters, cross the river, get into another waiting bus at the other bank and proceed to Panaji. No trouble and no loss of time.

Our politicians decided to make it even easier for the citizens. The construction of a bridge was thought off so that people, buses and trucks (along with dogs and cattle) could just zoom across the river on the bridge without the hassle of getting into and out of the ferry. The bridge was constructed and it made things smooth for everyone for all of five years. All the politicians who could reach their backs , patted their backs themselves and claimed part in the successful completion of the project.

Within five years it developed cracks, there were doubts of its stability and safety and heavy traffic was stopped. Traffic had to take a detour via Ponda over the weaker Borim bridge and narrower ponda- Panaji road.

Now the ferry service is being planned.

We are exactly where we were twenty five years back. Our rulers made money on the bridge, on its repair and now will make more money on the contracts for the very efficient ferry service which is going to erase our hardships. Another bridge across the river is also being planned. They are reaching for their backs once again. Lucky we citizens! I dare not think where we would have been without our well meaning and very intelligent rulers!

No writing - Only reading.

My last post was on May 2nd. More than two weeks! In the normal course I should have cooked up something or the other to bug my friends. If I sit in front of the computer and urge my brain to bring up something, it usually obliges and proves that it exists. I have not been able to do that. Our computer is in a room that faces west and it gets very hot in the evenings and night. I have got an AC fitted to the other room and it is very tempting. I determine to write something and sit in front of the computer. But the determination does not last more than five minutes. Five minutes pass before I locate the brain. Forget about urging it to bring up something and wait for it. On top of it, after a long time I got some kannada books to read. So, between struggling to make up something for the blog in a hot room and relaxing in a cool place with a good book in hand, the second option always wins.

I had to go to Dharwad last month to attend a wedding and got some kannada books from Manohara grantha maala and Samaja pustakaalaya. I have no idea about the new authors and titles in kannada and it was not easy to select books. So, I just made a year’s subscription to Manohara grantha maala and got a set of their latest publishings. Three of them turned out to be to my liking. “Tukkappa mastara” a collection of short stories from Sri Chandrakanta kusnoor the language of which ( authentic north Karnataka) I liked though there wasn’t much of a story anywhere, “Shurpaliya acharyaru” a novel by Sri Katti sheshaachaarya- picturing the life of an orthodox madhwa brahmin priest, said to have been based on “Vicar of wakefield”. I liked the subject, narration and language. Incidentally “vicar of wakefield” was my text book in high school and I don’t think I got beyond the second page. I do not know how I passed in English. May be I just mugged up the question and answers dictated by out teacher. After reading “shurpaliya acharyaru” I want to read “vicar of wakefield”.

The third one is a sort of collection of anecdotes – “Saahitya lokada sutta mutta” by Sri Giraddi Govindaraja. It contained two anecdotes regarding my uncle Sri J R Lakshamana Rao, praising his courtesy and cultured behavior, and I was happy that I got that book. It feels very nice to read such things about a person on whom I have lot of respect and affection. I have one book left. “Nele” by Sri S L Bhyrappa. Though I like his earlier books like “Vamshavriksha”,“Tabbaliyu neenaademagane”, “Grihabhanga” etc very much, his recent books like “Saartha”, “Anchu”, “Tantu”, “Mandra” and others have been rather difficult to digest. I have no idea how “Nele” will be.
By the time I finish that, it will be time for me to leave for the airport. So probably - ‘Inshallah’- I will be typing my next post from the US. Bye till then.

Just something for this week

SEQC

I have attended five SEQC quiz programmes till date and have heard about 300 questions. My score is ZERO. The Sunday evening quiz club is completing two years this month and has arranged an additional quiz for primary school children today. Just to give an opportunity for the kids who tag along their parents every month. Adults can attend and answer if the questions are passed on. My son, who considers himself an expert (he has answered two questions till date) very gracefully suggested that I attend the kids contest and see if I can begin my score.

I ticked him off strongly.

Let my shame add on slowly. Not multiply.



“neeroLagirdum bemardan uragapatakam”

Neeru is water, oLage is within, irdum is being in, bemardan is sweated, uraga is snake, pataka is flag.
The above line from “Gadayuddha” written by the ancient kannada poet Ranna, means “the fellow with the picture of a snake on his flag, (duryodhana,) sweated (inspite of) being in water."
At the end of the ‘mahabharata’ war, Pandavas had an upper hand and all the associates of Duryodhana were dead. He tried to save his life by hiding himself in a lake. Apart from being an expert in the efficient use of mace, Duryodhana was also an expert in ‘jalastambhana’, the art of remaining in water for long periods.

Pandavas were searching all over for him and they came near the lake. One of them who knew about his expertise in ‘Jalastambhana,’ guessed that he may be hiding in the water. On hearing those words Duryodhana got so scared that he started sweating inside the water.

We had a part of ‘gadayudhdha’ as our kannada text in 12th standard and our teacher had explained the situation very effectively. Still, I was wondering how one can sweat inside the water.

I have been visiting the swimming pool for the last ten months and spend about half an hour in water every day. I have not drowned yet. I must have learnt some swimming. This month of May, with the increase in temperature and humidity, the water is hot even early in the morning and I have been able to appreciate “neeroLagirdum bemardan uragapatakam” better.


Only the dentist in benefited.

“Doctor, this tooth is shaking. I want it removed.” The father shook the front tooth in his daughter’s mouth.
I took a casual look and said that there is no need to remove it as it was going to fall on its own. Many parents get jittery when the tooth remains shaking for long time and want it out. I don’t like to unnecessarily prick the child and pull the tooth.
“No doctor, she has pain”
“Do you have Pain there?” I asked the child. The child shook her head. Negative.
“And she can’t eat.” – father
“Do you have difficulty in eating?” I asked the child. She shook her head. Negative.
“Do you want the tooth removed?” I asked the child. Vigorous shake of the head. Negative.
“It has been shaking for two months now” – Father
“Let it shake for another two months. Nothing will happen” - me.
“Will it affect the new tooth? If it remains?”
“No”
“Will it affect her speech?”
“No”
“But still it is better to remove it. Is it not?”
“No. there is no benefit in removing it”
“No benefit at all?”
“There is. Of course”
“What?”
“I get a very easy hundred rupees”
The father was out the next second along with the daughter. Benefit the dentist of all the people?
No way.

IPL and My trip to Mars

I heaved a sigh of relief as Sania Mirza and Shoaib Malik got married and vacated the front page. The vacant space was immediately occupied by Lalit Modi and Shashi Tharoor. I would have preferred Sania and Shoaib. As it is I had a biased opinion about IPL and the distaste is only increasing. In one of my earlier posts I had mentioned that IPL was no sport and I see many others expressing similar opinion. It is 10%cricket, 20%bollywood, 30%money and 40%more money. We are mad about cricket and bollywood. The combination multiplied the madness. Those who knew how to cash madness, did it. A politician is never far from money and they zoomed in. The garbage bin is being emptied for our pleasure on the front pages. If you like garbage as I do, swallow an anti emetic and follow it.

“Volcano in Iceland spews ash. Airspace blocked. Thousands of flights cancelled” would have received as much attention from me as “Hydrogen traces found on Mars. May lead to finding water”. As far as I am concerned, passengers in Frankfurt airport and hydrogen on Mars are almost same. But I had to read the news in detail this time. I am expected to pass through Frankfurt airport next month and happenings there are a concern. I never thought that I would go to mars in my life.

I do not know what made me decide to make a trip to the US. It costs a lot of time and money (both of which I could have utilized better) apart from the hassle of getting a VISA which I feel is as hyped as IPL. But the human mind is irrational and I possess one. There was no other option. So, the decision is made, VISA is approved and the tickets are booked. Bombay-Frankfurt-Detroit 27th may. Suddenly Frankfurt feels like Margao.

Apart from sponging out my sister in law’s resources I do not know what I will be doing there but if anyone in the US is keen on getting my signature on a print out of any of my posts, I am willing. You don’t know what will make me famous and when. One day you may be pleasantly surprised to read “Sotheby’s auction autographed blogpost print out for record price”. You will be a millionaire! I will stop before someone says “what rot!” and try to locate Detroit on Google map.

bye,

Assorted items of the week.

After the elephant appeared in front of my house and made me post its picture and a small piece, nothing else came about and I kept quite. Moreover, our Ponda taluka library got a copy of Aravind Adiga’s booker prize winner ‘white tiger,’ and I had to read it. I am yet to finish it. From what I have read till date, it is not really my type of a book. For that matter, most of the ‘prize winners’ are not. If you ask me what ‘my type’ of a book is, I may not be able to offer a satisfactory explanation other than saying that it will be the one which makes me pick it up again and again till I finish it, even making me postpone some appointed cases by giving vague excuses, at the cost of my reputation and earnings. If I am talking to you face to face, I may be able to give detailed explanations and examples and make you understand what I mean, but it is difficult to put it in writing. Why anyone should be interested in knowing my version of ‘my type’ of books is an altogether different question. This is one of the books which I feel compelled to finish since I have read half of it, and I will. Booker prize, yes. Raghunandan prize, no.

Many news items during the past week made me react within myself and in front of my wife. “You, your views and your ideas. The world does not think like you. Thank god.” is what I got back. I was asking her why should the Times of India devote front page space to Sania mirza and Shoaib malik’s ( have I spelt it right?) marriage and the associated controversies. “It sits on my nerves to see that on front page everyday” I said. “From what I read, that fellow is either a fool or a rogue depending up on what he is saying is true or false. This lady again is a bigger fool or I don’t know what. They have a right to be what they are and do what they like. But of what consequence are they to our life?” was my question.
“They publish it because people want to read it. You have also read it in detail. If you are not interested don’t read.” My wife is very sensible when she advises me.
I agree. I can ignore the news or stop getting that paper. But I have already paid a year’s subscription which at Rs 400 is cheap and I have no intention of missing my daily dose of Beau peep, Peanuts and Garfield. I need their outlook and wisdom. I used to be equally eager to see ‘Mr Citizen’ but it is only a pale shadow of what it used to be. Even though Sri R K Laxman’s name is still there, I feel either the sketches are not his or he has lost his touch. Most of them are repetitions of ideas and neither the lines nor the words are sharp. I am a great fan of R K Laxman and have all seven volumes of his Mr Citizen collection. I keep going through them again and again. I do not want to see his cartoons going low. I feel it is time for him to stop.

“China bans import of low grade iron ore” was an item in yesterday’s paper which cheered me up a bit. If I were a resident of any other state, I might have not even read what was written below the heading. There are a dozen such news items everyday. But this news, if it is true and if Goan ore exporters do not find ways of getting around the ban, may just save Goa from destruction. I am interested in it and will follow it. I can’t help dwelling up on it in a bit of detail.

Iron ore mining and export has been one of Goa’s major economic activities. Goan ore was traditionally being exported to Japan, and Japan only imported ‘high grade’ ore. Some mines in Goa produced high grade ore which was directly exported to Japan. But a large number of mines had only ‘Low grade’ ore. Low grade ore producers imported ‘higher grade’ ore from Karnataka, mixed it with their low grade ore to get ‘high grade’ ore and then exported it. A case of “betty butter bought a bit of better butter to make the bitter butter better”.

So iron ore mining was one of the major contributors to Goa’s economy but along with it came irritants like dust pollution, traffic congestion, depletion and contamination of water resources, deforestation and so on. All these were at ‘nuisance’ level and were being tolerated.

God knows what happened to the Chinese and they started buying ‘low grade’ iron ore like hell. Export price of iron ore jumped from about 20$ a ton to 150$ a ton. There was no need of ‘better butter’ anymore. ‘Bitter butter’ could be directly exported to china. Everybody excepting fools like yours truly, who stuck to dentistry, minted money by involving themselves in iron ore business. I wrote sometime back how a friend of mine who sometimes took petty loans from me, became a millionaire after starting ore transportation business. They own a Benz, an Audi and a Range rover today. There are thousands like them who acquired new mining leases, revived abandoned mines, acted as middle men or made money just be letting their unused land to store iron ore. Mining spread into forests and into villages. Rivers got clogged with mining refuse and roads got clogged by mining trucks. Mining was not a nuisance any more. It was destruction of Goa. People grumbled, protested and fought. But nothing could stop the money power. Moreover, most of the people around mining areas were involved in it one way or the other.

Miners from Karnataka, who used to send their produce by train to Chennai and from Chennai by sea, were no more dependent on low cost rail routes. With profits jumping by 700% they could transport just not themselves but even their ore by helicopters. I wish they had. To our misfortune, they hired thousands and thousands of huge trucks and sent their ore by road to Goan ports. They wanted to export as much as possible, utilizing all available routes. They could afford transportation costs.
In no time they destroyed the road from Hubli to Goa beyond repair.

Even if the roads were Ok, there was no space for our cars and so, we travelled to Hubli when we had to, Via Karwar. Additional 100 kilometers. Once the Hubli –Goa road reached a stage where in even the mining trucks could not ply, they took the road to Goa via Karwar and destroyed that also.
We took a further deviation, forgot Hubli and travelled to Bangalore via Mangalore, about 200 Kms extra. After destroying the Hubli - Karwar- Goa road, the miners diverted their trucks to Mangalore port and finished the Goa – Mangalore road too.

That was when I started offering a prayer every morning requesting the gods to somehow influence the Chinese to stop buying iron ore. I was not jealous of miner’s profits, Audis and helicopters. I only wanted a chance for my ‘Maruti’ to use the road too. After about ten years, some minor god seems to have heard the prayer and is trying to do something. I do not know if this god is greater than the Goan exportes and the Chinese importers. From what I have witnessed till date it will not be easy for him/her to compete against the mining lobby. Whatever it is, I was happy to see a silver lining around the clouds, however temporary it may be.

I did not have intentions of writing so much about this. But I had very strong feelings and no one to listen to them. Got a chance to put out most of it today. Please bear with me.

Last piece of the day is about the SEBI ban on companies issuing ULIP policies. I subscribed to one of them - a single premium policy - last week and today I see this news. If my money is hard earned I will get it back. If I have hoodwinked some gullible patients and grabbed their money, I will lose it. From what I read in the papers it appears to be a conflict between SEBI (security and exchange board of India) and IRDA (insurance regulatory and development authority). But if anyone suffers, it will be the policy holders like me, who will have put in their savings in the hope of getting good insurance cover and reasonable returns.
The Kannada adage says “kONagaLeradum hOre giduvinge mittu”. Meaning “Two bisons fight and the plant gets trampled”. How true!

There are other things to mention too. But I can’t take your patience for granted. Still, I will take just another chance. Felt bad about dozens of CRPF jawans losing their lives to naxal’s bullets. My sympathies to their families. I look at everyone in uniform with awe. I did not have the guts to become a soldier but tried to join the army as a dentist in ADC. Passed the interview and failed the medical – unfortunately due to a wrong diagnosis. I feel very bad about it even today. But that’s how fate works. I could have been Col Raghunandan by now. But I remain “oh, only a dentist.” There is a small incident behind that statement. But enough is enough. I will keep it for next post.
Bye, finally.

Neighbour V/S Neighbourhood

This is yet another of my neighbours.

She stays a little away on the other side of the main road and advertises her address thus.

She is employed in a spice farm near my house which happens to be a tourist destination. Her job is to remain lying half submerged in a stream in front of a board which says “Give bath to elephant – take bath from elephant – Rs 200." ‘Foreign’ tourists, for whom a trip to India is not complete without an elephant, part with Rs 200, apart from an entry fee of Rs 500, with pleasure and pour buckets of water from the stream over her. She in turn sprays water on them from her trunk.
Her keepers scout around Ponda for her food and when they spot an edible tree, cut it up to feed her. Today was the turn of the jackfruit tree in front of our house. One of them was cutting the tree while she stood in the shade of my garage and had a bath from my hose for a change.

Then she had her lunch and carried the packed dinner on her back.

In the process, my neighbourhood which looked like this

before her lunch, looked like this afterwards.

This neighbour is eating up my neighbourhood.