It goes without saying that if you throw a stone in Bangalore, chances are it would hit someone from Kerala (Mallu). Even then, I hardly had any Malayali friends throughout my school life, apart from some family friends. I was delighted to get acquainted with some of them during the course of my engineering and our friendship grew as the years passed. As is always the case, during the final year, we have this frenzied urge to fit into as many groups of friends as possible, spend more time with them and make memories to dote on. We formed a group on Whatsapp, which had three people initially. The number slowly rose to five.

 I will try to introduce all of them in a line or two. First and foremost, there is this person who is the soul of the group, always entertaining everybody with his stories. Then there is the sweetest person who cannot get angry and is a soft target for all the jokes. One person who is too amiable and sensible and another person who is brimming with ideas, feels accountable for mother earth, made up our group. The group conversations were always fun and I made sure I was up to date with everything that happened even if I could not participate. It was our forte to be able to pull each other’s legs, resorting to everything from movie dialogues to past incidents in our lives. At times, there were some extensive planning sessions regarding who among us would get married first, where, who would sponsor the marriage, where would we settle, where would we meet again after a long time and so on. 

 Our first jaunt together was to the Jalahalli Ayyappa temple in Bangalore, situated in a locality which boasts of more Keralites per unit area than any other place in Bangalore.  After offering our prayers, we spent some time in the temple premises taking in the tenor and discussing the history of temples in Kerala as well as various traditions that we follow. We continued our discussion in a park outside the temple. Horror stories were told, which my friends claimed to be a part of. We failed to notice an old man sitting nearby as we made elaborate plans for one of my friends to elope with the love of his life without their parents’ consent. The stranger was offended and retaliated soon, asking us if he would tolerate it if his sister did the same thing. This incident dampened our spirits, at least for a while.

 Another get together and the ethnic day celebration in our college rewarded us with more memories. On the day of the official farewell for final year students in our college, I invited all of them home. It was an evening of merry chatter and singing. Getting drenched in the rain while walking in a pasture close by was a happy addition to our agenda for the day. Our beloved juniors had also arranged an informal farewell for us on the next day. We quietly escaped the proceedings to meet in college and have a ‘wine party’ which was long due. One of us carefully carried wine in a coke bottle to the college canteen and all of us gulped two mouthfuls of it. The thought of CCTV cameras and a watchman who asked us our details since we were on campus on a Sunday, made us slightly anxious. After going back to the get together, while addressing the gathering, I could sense the after-effects of the wine. My tongue reluctantly obeyed me and I was getting a headache.

 We seem to have made the most of our temple visits. We went to the Chakkulathukavu temple in Bangalore to take part in the ‘Laksharchana’ (Lighting of one lakh lamps) ceremony. My friend sang an old Malayalam movie song for us and seemed to have achieved what Tansen did by singing the raag Malhar. The temple and the surroundings were soaked in rain. We lighted the lamps around the temple to make it a spectacle in the darkness.

 Contrary to our own apprehension that we will not be able to continue our amity even after college ends, we met a few months later. We put on paper an off-the-record marriage declaration of one of our friends. It was one of those hysterical exploits that we would recollect somewhere down the road.

Take it to the bank

July 2014, Bangalore
I decided it is high time to create a bank account for myself. After all, I am a Bachelor of Engineering degree holder now, aged more than 18 years. A bank account was not a necessity so far, as I was staying with my parents and could ask them for money anytime. I set out driving to the nearest branch and asked what were the steps to open a brand new account at the branch. I was politely told to go to another branch as this branch did not have the capacity to handle any more accounts. The lady was kind enough to give me the address of the other branch. I was confident I could find the place easily. I managed to reach the right location after some driving around and asking people for directions. I approached the manager, and received a glum response. I needed to have a Permanent Account Number (PAN) in order to create a bank account. So much for all the driving, I thought! The first thing I did after reaching back home that day was to go through the procedure to get a PAN card. I applied successfully and received the PAN card in a week's time.
By this time I was offered a small job, which I had decided to take up. The company would create a new bank account for me. I was relieved.

September 2014, Bangalore
It was time for my first salary. Our company is run by a Sir and ma'am. I went with ma'am one fine day to the bank near the company office. The purpose was the same, to create a bank account. I had filled the application form online. Unfortunately, at the bank, we were not able to take a printout, owing to some network problem. I again filled a paper application form. We were directed to get a signature from a senior officer at the bank. He seemed to be in his worst state of mind that day, and blatantly refused to sign as my address did not belong to the premises under this branch. Now we were at crossroads. We spoke to the manager, who seemed very obliging, and asked ma'am to get a letter stating that the account needs to be created at this branch as it is a salary account. We went back to the office, got the letter printed and also the application form I had filled earlier. It was smooth sailing after that. At the end of the day, I had a pass book bearing my name.

30 December 2014, Los Angeles
I went to create my first bank account in the USA today. As soon as I entered, a person near the entrance asked me how he could be of assistance. I told him what I needed and another older person opened the application form on his iPad and asked me to fill it. He was kind enough to help me fill in the accurate details. I was through the form and a lady at the counter helped me click photographs of my passport and upload them. Not for an instant did she appear weary of assisting me till we got a perfect picture. I waited for a few minutes after that and the person who gave me the iPad called me into his office. Within 10 minutes, I was outside the bank with my account number and debit card.

Long story short, the whole procedure seemed a lot easier and hassle-free here. Is it really so? I think it is just that everything is very systematic here and all citizens try to abide by the system. It is tempting to look for a trap door to get around, but what results from resisting that temptation is worth the effort. Maybe we forget that courtesy begets courtesy. Maybe it is upto people like me to go back and try to bring about a change in the small things, instead of complaining how good it is in the USA.

Thousands of miles away from home

Life as I know it, is never going to be the same! On Christmas day this year, I was at the Kempegowda international airport in Bangalore with my parents, ready to start my life changing journey. I was heading to Los Angeles for higher studies, through Hong Kong. Some friends who came to see me off enlivened the atmosphere, and made sure I did not, even for an instant feel sad about leaving home in search of greener pastures. Waving goodbye to my friends and parents through the glass panels at the airport seemed to bring out my heartless character, never to be burdened with the emotions and sentiments associated with such moments. It was a relief that I was accompanied by two new friends who were travelling to Hong Kong and then to Toronto. I was busy laughing at their light hearted antics while waiting to board the plane. The flight to Hong Kong was on time and uneventful. I spent the five and a half hours trying hard to get some sleep, but to no avail.
Immense amount of preparation in the last few weeks had not spared me of the nervousness and anxiety. I had tried to be as organised as possible, listing the items I need for the trip, rechecking and updating it. The best thing about going away is that everybody wants to spend some time with you and they say 'Let's meet one last time before you leave!' I realised how blessed I am to have so many well-wishers who went the extra mile and gifted me some tokens of good luck. Amidst all the 'You will forget us' and 'You will change a lot', I could sense the pride and kindhearted adulation. My friends came home on the last day and I cut a cake which said 'Bon voyage'. The one truly moving gesture was the video that they made for me. It summed up their good wishes. We posed for many group photos, one of which was framed and gifted to me later at the airport.
Hong Kong airport, with the huge number of gates was a marvel. If it wasn't for the air hostess who guided us to the gate for the next flight, we would have been lost. This was my first international flight and I knew many more such spectacles awaited me. It is here that I parted ways with my friends who were headed to Toronto, hoping to meet somewhere down the line. The duration of the next flight was 11 and a half hours. It is truly trying when you are alone. Sometime in between the flight, while I was watching a movie, I was struck by the thought that I could not go back home anytime soon even if I wished to and tears rolled down my cheeks. I quickly recovered. There was an Indian family next to me on the flight which consisted of two children. I listened to one of the young girls' perfect English with an American accent and wondered if I would be speaking like that in a couple of years.
I arrived at the Los Angeles airport at 6:50 AM on the 26th December. The immigration officer sent me to another room to double check my credentials. I was frightened and tried to convince myself that this was the case for anybody arriving on a student visa. The officer put me at ease, chatting pleasantly. The process was over soon and I was on the way to my apartment with a family friend who had kindly agreed to take the responsibility of picking me up from the airport and dropping me off. My roommates who had arrived 10 days earlier made sure I felt at home. I spent the whole day catching up on my sleep, owing to the jet lag.
It was only in the morning on the next day that I was active and ready to tour my new city. I had caught a glimpse of downtown Los Angeles, the most happening place, while driving home from the airport. Hollywood was right there, and I hoped to visit soon. I, along with one of my roommates and her brother decided to explore our university, which is the university of Southern California. We are going to spend a good two years there. I was fascinated by the atmosphere, the buildings and the mascot named Tommy Trojan. We were busy saving these moments for later by clicking pictures at all the iconic spots. The water fountains were something that amused us. We reasoned out that it was a way to make sure the water stayed clean. Also, the fact that we could turn on the red light for vehicles and cross the road while they waited, was an eye opener! After lunch, we spent time at the science center near the university. We were enthralled at the opportunity to touch star fish and some other sea animals. We visited the Los Angeles memorial coliseum which is the USC football stadium and headed back home. I was in awe of my city now! The fact that we could walk about all day without sweating or worrying about pollution was something that made me very happy. There are disadvantages too. I was prone to do some calculations in my mind and convert any money I spent in dollars to Indian Rupees and feel bad that I had spent a lot. The cost of living here is a lot higher than that in India, but I am geared up to prove my merit and start earning in dollars in a year's time. Yes, I am going to love it here! As for the people back home in India, well, they are all available at the touch of a button, thanks to technology!

Back some day

I woke up a tad excited, looking ahead to spending a day with someone I am very fond of. The day was already unusually special as I have never been away from Bangalore for 'Ganesha habba' since birth.
The rendezvous was planned at Kannur railway station, a couple of months after our last meeting. Kannur is a fast improving city in North Kerala, known for the very distinct style of Malayalam spoken there and the innocent people. This was my first time at Kannur alone, maybe a sign that I am now an adult, finding her own foothold in today's fast paced life. Earlier, I had brushed aside my mother's suggestion that she would accompany me on my outing.
I tried in vain to hide my joy at the sight of my friend, who had waited a while for me the railway station. We had made no plans and the rain seemed to add to our confused state, what to do with all the time we have? Having lived in a metropolitan city all my life, the rather conservative nature of my hometown is something I cannot get used to. It is difficult for two people of the opposite sex to walk together without grabbing attention, let alone talk peacefully. This seemed to bother my friend a lot, to the point of irritation. I could not help but complain, "If we were in Bangalore!"
  The guest house park, a few kilometres away from the railway station, seemed to be the perfect choice for us. The lonely area did not diminish our happiness. A walk along the path with the beautiful view overlooking the sea reminds us how insignificant we are in the eternity that is life. The sands of time can alter everything and this thought filled me with positivity. When I ventured to get adventurous, a scary looking fisherman warned us that this park was off limits in the morning. A little worried, we exited the park, cursing a man who had seen us entering and did not think we had to be warned. With time on our side, we walked back to the railway station. A battle tank called 'Vijayanta' (victorious) displayed on the roadside in the cantonment area lifted our spirits.
Even though we refreshed our memories about college and laughed at ourselves, the fact that my friend was aloof to all my animated talk seemed to bother me a bit as we sat on the platform, warding off unnecessary attention from other passengers. I react very soon to any situation and my disappointment was clearly visible on my face. We think it is our birth right to be furious at a confidant when they do not live up to expectations! Lunch time took us to a nearby fast food restaurant. My disappointment lasted throughout lunch and I did not give into any pressure to discuss it with my friend. To give the situation a dramatic touch, I got into a bus without even saying bye. This is something I will be ashamed of for a long time. I quickly realised my mistake, went back to the railway station and apologised, which partly made up for my abrupt behaviour. Thank God my companion is the sweetest person I have met and did not show any animosity. For nearly a couple of hours after that, philosophy and gossip were the main points of our conversation and my unruly reaction was forgotten. We reflected that a railway station is an interesting place, witness to many twists and turns in the lives of people. We bid farewell on a good note, glad that we had met! Another one such planned meeting, and then I will hope for serendipity...

Smart phone away

Yes, the relief of finishing four years of engineering! The external project demonstration was the last step towards graduating with a B. E. degree. Then came the realisation that it was time to bid goodbye to our dearest friends who made so many memories with us in these four years which we will never erase!
It was half-heartedly that I decided to escape the pain of parting by travelling to my native place with my mother. I believed that the monsoon in Kerala and the joy of meeting relatives would help me forget that I will miss my friends, at least for a few days.
At 10:30 AM on the day before yesterday, we arrived at 'Ammath' - which translates to 'Mother's house'. My grandfather who is now 86, has trouble remembering things. At least three times in a day, he asks me what I am studying, which is a relief considering that he usually forgets that he has any grandchildren at all! I spent the rest of the day recovering from the fatigue of travelling and catching up with friends on WhatsApp.
It was a mild shock when I realised that my phone charger was not working. I erupted like a volcano and caused discomfort to everybody around. It is only after some careful thinking that I came to my senses and accepted it as a blessing in disguise.
A good night's sleep did me a great deal of good. I decided to kick start the day after posting an update on Facebook about the present scenario, using my mother's phone. It helped deprive me of the guilt of not responding to any messages.
It was rather ironic that we had a homa (pooja) here yesterday, meant to ask God to bless my grandfather with a long life. Every now and then, he says he is feeling all alone, he is going to die soon and makes some far-fetched requests - to hit him with a stick and kill him! "One foot in the grave" is how he describes his condition.
Amidst all these, one of my mother's many cousins arrived at home. He was in charge of executing the Mruthyunjaya (winning against death) homa to perfection. I do not remember seeing him before and was awestruck that he remembers my name. Some sort of peace lingered on in the air after the completion of the pooja. It was a good sign that my grandfather sat quietly throughout the proceedings.
I ventured to enjoy the closeness to nature by stepping outside for a while. Everything that unfolded in front of my eyes made me want to click photographs and make my friends jealous. The pond, the 'Ayyappan kaavu' cloistered amidst trees with beautiful white flowers, made me feel so lucky I was here rather than anywhere else in the world. I was dreaming about building a house and spending the rest of my life here, a prospect that delighted my grandmother. It was interesting to be stared at by a mongoose, which seemed to look for signs of familiarity on my face for a couple of minutes.
Later, the single worry on my mind disappeared when I bought a charger for my phone from the nearby town. I was back on WhatsApp before the day ended, finding pleasure in reading few messages which seemed to indicate some people missed me slightly. The fascinating conversations my mother and her sister had about their school days and the hearty laughter took my mind off the phone too! My grandfather clearly remembers the days long gone by, when elders forbade him from educating his daughters. We have clearly come a long way, haven't we?

Expedition to heaven

  

  It was a fitting end to the year 2011, an unforgettable journey to the north eastern state of Sikkim and parts of West Bengal. The flight from Bangalore to Kolkata takes a little more than 2 hours, notwithstanding minor delays. Once we landed there, there was enough time on our hands to have a look around this iconic city which has an old-world charm to it. The taxi ride to see the Howrah Bridge is a nice way to get a feel of the city which has been familiarized to us through nostalgic accounts by journalists and the like. There were trams slowly chugging through the busy streets. We did not forget to try some Bengali sweets on our way back to the airport. The airport at Bagdogra, situated in North Bengal is the closest to the state of Sikkim. Vehicles can be arranged to take people from here to Pelling, one of the biggest tourist destinations in Sikkim after the capital city of Gangtok. It is a pleasant journey through the narrow roads on the hills and we arrived at the hotel sometime after 10 PM that night.

  We reveled in the awe inspiring spectacle that surrounded us, in the morning. The sight seeing was off to a great start, our first stop being a rock garden. The road is aligned with plenty of orange trees. The Kanchenjunga falls became a beautiful backdrop for pictures with the rainbow spread across the falls. The walk to the holy Khecheopalri Lake, with a temple on its bank and a monastery on the way, is truly awe-inspiring. After the luncheon which lasted for an hour or so, we were off to explore the Rabdentse ruins. Rabdentse was the ancient capital of Sikkim and this site, which is under the Archaeological Survey of India, housed the ruins of the palace etc. The view from atop the ruins is breathtaking. Pemayangtse monastery was our penultimate stop for the day. The helipad, more of a tourist spot, is a photographer’s delight. Darkness sets in by 5:30 PM, which means sight seeing is over for the day.

  We reached Gangtok in time for lunch the next day. The Teesta hydro electric power project is visible on the way. Gangtok, the city of joy, pretty much changed our impression about Sikkim. What with their winter clothing, everybody appeared very stylish! The shopping complex at Lal market is where all the shopaholics should head. The next day of our stay was devoted to visiting Tsomgo Lake and Baba mandir. This region is under the jurisdiction of the army and hence we have to get special permits. The journey towards Baba mandir took about four and a half hours and it was nothing short of excitement. It is one of the highest roads in India. We could see people working on the roads, and small villages greeted us now and then. Almost every house seemed to have a garden, or at least potted plants in front of their house. We passed near Nathu-La pass, the Indo-China border on the way. The deity at Baba mandir is Baba Harbhajan Singh, who was a military man. Everything at the temple is managed by army personnel. It is at the restaurant here that we finally tasted momos, a snack that would appeal to all people, accustomed to different tastes. The calm and serene Tsomgo Lake, at an altitude of 12,400 feet, is a treat to the eyes as well as our dazed minds. The other interesting places in and around Gangtok that we visited the next day are Bakthang falls, a park and flower exhibition centre with a rather difficult name to remember, the handloom and cottage industry under the Sikkim government and Do Dul chorten, a place of worship akin to a Japanese pagoda. We missed a visit to the institute of Tibetology as it was a public holiday. We were on our way to Darjeeling, also called the ‘Queen of hills’ soon. The excellent roads added to our experience of driving amidst splendid, tall trees and rivers. The air turned chilly as we neared Darjeeling. Sprawling tea estates and the view of Mt.Kanchenjunga at a distance are bonuses. We decided to explore the market after we had taken adequate rest. It is a whole new world out there, which gets crowded as darkness creeps in.

  We were up and about at 4 in the morning on the next day, to leave for Tiger hill, to witness the magnificent sunrise over Kanchenjunga, the third highest mountain in the world. There was a huge crowd and it is with some difficulty that we managed to catch a glimpse. Batasia eco garden and the Ghoom monastery beckoned us before breakfast. The Japanese temple, along with a pagoda, tucked away amidst tall trees, is a sight to watch. The rock garden, Ava art gallery and the tea garden were some of the other tourist attractions in Darjeeling. The Tibetan refugees self help centre is situated atop a hill and houses a photograph exhibition centre, tracing its history through the times. Another visit to the market in the evening was a temptation we could not withstand.

  The final destination in our itinerary was Kalimpong. The golf club which belongs to the army, Durpin Dara monastery and some photogenic view points formed the major part of our sight seeing in Kalimpong. The pine view nursery, a private collection of cactus, was really exciting. We would have never imagined that cacti could exist in all those different shapes.

  We returned to Bangalore on New Year’s Eve. We were driven to Bagdogra airport, and then flew to Kolkata and to Bangalore. It was a truly delightful experience and only a person insensitive to the beauty, which our motherland is abundantly blessed with, would not want to go back to this tiny state tucked away in the Himalayan Mountains. Though there are many languages spoken in Sikkim, a sound knowledge of Hindi is advisable while visiting. Nepali is the official language. The cultural diversity in the least populated state of India is remarkable. There are different festivals happening in different towns of Sikkim throughout the year, which would be a wonderful opportunity to get acquainted with the culture. The ‘heaven’ that is Sikkim is enticing, leave no stone unturned to take a trip to heaven in this mortal birth.

Mouthful :D

As a teenager nearing the end of my teens, I am always wondering what it is that makes a ‘bad word’ really popular amidst adolescents. When I say a ‘bad word’, I mean something specified as vulgar slang in the dictionary. In the past decade, we have observed that these words in the English language have come out of oblivion and have attained utmost popularity.

   I would like to recount my first experience of encountering a ‘bad word’ in the English language. It happened while I was in the 8^th STD. One day, during our lunch hour, there was a chaotic situation in class, and many of my classmates seemed to be looking at a particular desk, which was supposed to be the root cause of the problem. I went up to them and enquired what is happening, not able to hide my curiosity. One of them pointed at something written in bold dark letters on the desk. I could not understand what it meant and hoped my friends would enlighten me. Someone said it was a very bad word, but no one knew what it actually meant. As I remember, the first thing that I did that day after getting back home from school was to hunt for the meaning of that word in the dictionary. I very well understood what it meant, but till today cannot hide my amazement when I hear any person uttering this word. That was about 6 years ago, and now I think even primary school going kids are familiar with these words, whose meaning does not make any sense to them.

 What strikes me as bizarre is that people resort to such words to express their fury, happiness, remorse, all alike. Teenagers are easily drawn to this way of communication because nothing seems to be easier than expressing every feeling of yours through a set of words, which are used in every context. Sentences with a sprinkling of bad words are heard everywhere these days, sometimes in the most unexpected situations. If you happen to be walking in a hurry and run into someone by mistake, chances are that you will not escape the flurry of cuss words emanating from that person! More so if that person is a college-goer. No one is spared for that matter, whether you are young or old, rich or poor.

 One of my teachers used to say that while trying to learn a new language, we always learn the bad words first. The wonderful idea of learning a new language is reduced to the unproductive purpose of enjoying one’s self by scolding another person in his own language. The one factor that seems to give bad words such an immense mass appeal, in my opinion, is the versatility wrongly associated with these words. They are used as nouns, adjectives, verbs and what not! The very fact that these words are not wholly disclosed in the print media and the visual media, who try to cover them up with beeps and *s, render them an aura of mystery, which only adds to a young mind’s urge to stock up on them.

 Gone are the days when parents were responsible for every word that their child spoke. This is the age of helpless parents, who have no say, whatsoever, in moulding their ward’s verbal skills. The concepts of ‘culture’ and ‘tradition’ have now been forgotten, at least to a small extent, or are interpreted however we choose. The number of people who have not developed the habit of hurling out curses when in the least trifling annoyance is lessening quickly enough. After all, we are human beings…. Go with the flow, they say!