The Bangalore traffic Handbook

Having been associated with the city for past 26 years, I’ve always been influenced by the fact that Bangaloreans are always a little more sensible, practical and intellectually better off compared to populace of any other city in India. Be it Cricket crowd in Chinnaswamy stadium or your love thy neighbor lending a helping hand when required or even in terms of behavioral competencies; Namma Bengaluru is famous for its “Always in good spirits” people. But until I started driving on Bangalore roads, I was masked off one category of people whose conducts and protocols are exactly the opposite of the qualities described above. Trust me; it’s not a cakewalk to handle people belonging to this category. What’s worst? You can never avoid these people unless stop driving on Bangalore roads.

So here I go. Some proven and tested guidelines which may be of great help for non harassing travelling experience (The “Driving with pleasure” is dead/extinct)

1. BMTC – They’re licensed to kill. So they rule the road. Never take on with them. Just give them way. And stay away 
2.  Bangalore has no super cop is a myth. The truth is that it has 1.2 lakh super cops equipped with three wheelers called Autos. They’ll mock test your driving skills by means of negative testing. For e.g. putting right indicators and turning left, abrupt U-turns, wheelie, stoppie, wheel spin, swift brakes and so many other things which you can’t imagine in your wildest dreams. Be prepared to pass the test (P.S: Nobody has managed to score more than 35)
    
   
3.  Speed breakers: With more than 3000 km of road and an equal number of speed breakers, you actually drive using breaks. Acceleration? What’s that!
4. Pothole and manhole: Very trivial to differentiate on Bangalore roads. Hone your skills to identify what is what
   
5. If you see the road you took just yesterday has turned one way in opposite direction, don’t panic. You’re perfectly normal.
6. If the downpour is heavy, don’t take the roads that have flyovers, underpass, trees, rail over bridges, level crossings and grade separators and electric poles. In other words, stay home.
      
   
7. Gaps between vehicles are actually measured in nanometers.
8. If you don’t have breaks in your car, never mind. But always keep sound horns intact. It’s in fact a good idea to have a backup horn installed so that you can honk both for optimum effect.
9. Two wheelers riding on footpath and pedestrians walking on road is Bangalore’s culture.
     
   
10. The only thing that’s on par with Usain Bolt’s speed is Bangalore auto meter. Have enough cash before boarding an auto
11. Praying to god before leaving home and honking after signal turns green are considered holy for our people.
12. Driving on top gear in Bangalore and Halley’s comet – Both occurs once in 76 years 
13. We don’t care for ambulances and medical emergencies. After all, we’re a small country with a billion people.

Just take care of the above guidelines. Rest will fall in place involuntarily. Happy driving on Bangalore roads

The voice of Sarabjit Singh - a victim of political feebleness

 

Most of you can’t sit next to your own irritating bosses for just eight hours. I did it for 22 long years. I said I was a farmer. But they called me a terrorist. They arrested me for crossing the border. But they charged that I’m a bomber.  I said I’m a stupid common man. They branded me as “Indian Spy”. I told the truth. But they convicted me and awarded death sentence.

I was waiting to hear from my countrymen. But they kept quiet

They kept me in solitary confinement for more than 15 years. I didn’t have enough space in the prison to stand up on my feet. I was chained with iron rods. I never got a chance to see or hear from wife and two daughters for ages. I heard that my sister did everything she could and campaigned assiduously for my release.

I was waiting to hear from my countrymen. But they kept quiet

My lawyers filed mercy plea five times. They collected 100,000+ signatures. They started an online campaign, a UK lawyer (Jas Uppal) came to help me. Some Canadian Human rights group helped me come out of my solitary confinement.

I was waiting to hear from my countrymen. But they kept quiet

They never verified my true identity. They tortured me to confess that I was a terrorist. I said I know only Hindi. They conducted court trials in English. Witnesses changed. Their versions changed. But their decision didn’t.  I was made a scapegoat. They finally decided to release me. But few hours later, they called it a hoax. 

I was waiting to hear from my countrymen. But they kept quiet

I was attacked in central jail with bricks, iron rods, blades and other weapons. I went to coma and was admitted to a hospital. By now I had lost hopes that my countrymen will help me. But this time they broke their silence. My noble countrymen asked them to release me on humanitarian grounds. I felt so happy that my country’s noble babus at least know my name. All of a sudden, I was the talk of the town. NDA condemned UPA that it did nothing. UPA fired back what NDA did during its rule to get him back.

And now that I’ve ceased to exist, I’m freed of waiting for help, I’ve got ample free time to think if I’m really a victim of mistaken identity or an illustration of a country’s political feebleness and folly.

By the way I’m Sarabjit Singh, a farmer from a remote village of India and this, is my story!

Sources: Wikipedia and http://freesarabjitsingh.com/

Image courtesy: ndtv.com

Lessons from my forefathers

I’ve have had so many nostalgic moments in past. More often after I started travelling to Electronic city. Nowadays, I badly miss being amidst sensible people. Some fun loving colleagues; cubical mates with cracking sense of humor; witty managers; discussing love, life and other impediments with friends and so many such moments which have now become a rarity. Thanks to my company and 5 hours of travelling. I’ve comforted some that it happened and regretted few that it won’t happen again. But today I experienced a totally sublime moment. It was such a bliss that I don’t have enough words to explain how I felt.

Of late, I’ve developed a kind of OCD (Obsessive Compulsive Disorder) for cleanliness. Not sure if it is the effect of taking too many Information Security trainings at office or my being an Aries man, Nowadays I can’t stand shabbiness of whatsoever form. After lot of plan, and since I was observing Earth Hour (March 23^rd) I decided to clean one compartment of my cupboard which was muddled with some century old stuff which no one in my home was interested in. 

While cleaning them, what I found was something really interesting.

A post card written by my maternal great grandfather to my paternal grandfather which had the information that my dad was born! Yeah. Dated 30^th July 1946, the information of my father’s birth typed with blue ink (yeah.. it is not written) on a ½ anna post card. Believe me… You don’t know how terrifically nostalgic I got. Oh my god! I read the letter again and again. I couldn’t believe my great grand father had such an awesome English vocabulary! That too in 1946… Whoa!! I had a feeling that – My great grandfather slapped me hard and said “We used to wait for 2 days to know when a new member has arrived in the family… And here you are..  Not able to travel for 2 hours on Hosur road?” Am I seriously maturing too much or life itself has decided to teach me lessons in a nutshell with real life examples like this. I’m not able to comprehend.

I also found some old books (Tattva Vaada - A magazine which was subscribed by radical Brahmins of yester years). Now I can trace my household customs to early 19^th century. Yeah. It all falls in place. Old novels and some old letters each of which tell the tale of yesteryear. Through these small artifacts of my forefathers, I’ve been able to borrow from them a proud feeling of how culturally rich my family was, how educated they all were.

For a man of my age, I'm shamelessly hoping that besides all the whining that I do nowadays (actually I only whine and complain nowadays). the courtesy of such simple things will be of ineffable help to change myself.

Love – Absolute seventh Heaven

You know that weird feeling of being in love? At last, I’m very fortunate to experience it at the age of 26! It took me a while to even realize what is happening to me. From childhood, I never experienced such stuff which some people always talked about. But from past few days when it is happening to me, I’m realizing how true it was to them also. Love has taken me by surprise. Absolute seventh heaven!

I get up in the morning and think of you and only you. The freshness in the morning; I can feel it only after seeing you. I get ready and leave for office; en route I think of you. Envisaging that I’ll catch up with you in another hour makes me chuckle silently. I don’t care if people around me think I’m mad. In spite of some people warning me that you’re dangerous and that I should not think of you, I just can’t stop myself. I’ve stopped giving ears to people who see rationale in everything.

That awesome warmth, when I see you first time in office is beyond compare. You are the reason I work.  Words can’t explain that amazing sensation when I hold you in my hand. I just can’t figure out the way time flies when you’re at my desk. And these colleagues of mine will probably never understand what I feel for you; how much I respect you. Sometimes when I don’t see you waiting for me in the pantry, I feel so low and dejected. Your absence has made me understand that life without you is just vanity.

Dear.. or Shall I call you darling: I have a confession to make. It’s been more than 20 years since I’ve known you. But I just used to hate you from childhood days; so much that if my mom ever took your reference, I just couldn’t stand it. I’m not sure if you remember. I used to throw you out of my room, if you ever entered. But here I stand today; like a dim-witted moron; thinking about all the ecstatic moments we’d have had together if I had realized my love for you.

That whirlwind of mood swings; those unwanted apprehensions; work pressure at times; you can rid me of them within no time. The stress is nothing when I know you’re always there. That’s the kind of confidence and love that you’ve instilled in me. Now that I’ve experienced the sweetness and the wonders that you are doing to me; sometimes when I go to places, where I can’t find you, I feel traumatized. I can’t express how much I miss you when I’m stuck in hosur road traffic. Sometimes, I miss you terribly. 

I’m sure it’s not just infatuation or some time pass stuff. My love for you is eternal and unconditional. I just can’t stop myself from falling in love with you, each day, every day. My dear coffee, see what you’ve done to me!

P.S: My love purely for the pure filter coffee and not any Starbucks, Barista or even the CCD coffee vending machine @ office!

Marriage hall – A bizarre bazaar

Yet another post about marriage. Honestly, I’ve no crazy idea why I’m writing/tweeting so much about marriages. Yesterday yet another friend of mine went into conjugal bliss. And this time, I want to jabber about the agony that you may experience in a marriage hall; that awkward moment when you really don’t know whether to feel happy for the ones getting married or sense that awkwardness that you come across in the marriage hall. 

Face-off: At 26, I just can’t stop my mind from setting an expectation on the probable honeys and sweeties around.  My eyes will be constantly running algorithms in the front end for a match against my expectations. But most of the times my eyes end up on mirror cracking materials and Asian paint endorsers, and on the other hand – Gold miners from Bappi Lahiri khandan. Yielding bad search results. Even though there are no syntax errors in my algorithm, it couldn’t yield better results because the database itself is corrupted. Sheer disappointment or rather my fortunes.

Flash it on: By any chance, if there’s no television display in the marriage hall, you owe a BIIIG thanks to the almighty. I mean it. Because that graphics you see on television is the most awkward graphics that human eyes can tolerate. If you stare at it for some time, you’ll lose your vision. A little more than that; you’ll put yourself in the grave danger of losing your mind as well. This is what happens: First, the bride will dissolve in from the middle of Niagara Falls and the Groom will join her in lightning speed from a mountain that looks like tundra region; as if the bride and Groom are diehard fans of Edward and Bella. And suddenly you’ll see a man with yellowish teeth gulping pani puri and from inside his mouth both parents will crawl in like some insects followed by bride and groom disappearing to Times Square like a boomerang. And again bride will blossom from inside a flower. Watching this will make you curse Adobe for coming up with flash.

Food for thought: Whoever came up with the idea of taking videos in marriage dining hall should be punished by making him eat until his stomach literally detonates. This is the most hatred part of all the marriages that I’ve attended. How’d you feel if 1000 people are watching live, what and how you eat?  I really don’t understand why on earth some one wants to cherish the memories of how or how much a person EATS! In case this happens in your own marriage, you’ll only end up being disgusted to watch your own marriage video because of the fear of seeing people eating in their own ishtyle (Please consider Indian dining etiquettes here). 

Indian weddings, if done in the way they are actually supposed to; they’re a treat. Weddings are the moments for a lifetime. I’ve seen people competing with other weddings to make it more vibrant, richer and more colorful. I feel sad for them. The richness, culture and traditions of a wedding today are meddled with technology, show off and unwanted opulence. I feel that the whole essence of marriage has taken a phase shift from celebration to flaunt and status symbol. Marriage is no more a marriage.

Just go home and open you parents wedding album. I’m sure you stand by me!