Mall-o-Mall Weekly

Yesterday was total fun. A kick ass booz.. oops bowling at a brand new bowling alley in Orion. No doubt it was a fun filled evening. But being the mango fellow, I also experienced the other side of the shopping mall which is quite ludicrous. This post is all about the darker side that you as a non shopping fanatic may experience in a shopping mall. 

Traffic jam outside Mantri mall, a usual scene

All the enthusiasm was killed even before we entered the mall because there was a huge traffic pile up like 100 mtr even before the entrance. You may get an urge to pick up a facial tissue kept on the dashboard and thrust it into security’s whistling mouth, but we can’t blame him. Poor chap! He is just doing his job. After so much of time, I reached the parking gate only to read “Parking full” sign. I cursed the entire window shopping rebels inside and went to basement 2 and finally got a place to park the car. Walked a mile to find the elevator and talked about how big the mall is. 

As I stepped into the mall, two men appeared out of nowhere and gave me a weird look. For a second, I was confused if I committed a heinous crime. Then they ran their hands through my top to bottom and let me in.  In front of the very first store, one of the man’s hands directed at me, gestured that he’s taking a snap with his dad and mom and asked me to walk away. The expression on his face said “Can’t you see that I’m taking a picture with mom and dad. Get lost”. I started walking briskly in the same direction just to piss him off. I can bet anything on my life: That pic was taken just to put it on facebook. I, JJ and Anil exchanged looks and started contemplating on that pictures future:

41 likes and 27 comments:

• Hey nice! (I know you dumb ass)
• This is Orion Mall.. Correct? (I’m not so vile like you to take my parents to Banshankari BDA Complex)
• Your parents? (No.. I’m doing a CSR event for an NGO and they are some unknown beggars)
• Hey you look a lot like your dad! (Saale, mera baap hai. Voldemort thodi hai)
• Awwwww..!!!! ( by a gal)
• Uncle, you look nice in that yellow tees (Bencho, 1400 bucks I’ve paid)

I felt like IT industries, all malls should ban taking photographs inside the building. This clicking photo interruption happened some 27 times before Navya, Neha and Sam stepped inside ESPRIT shop that had FLAT 50% to 70% discount. I caught view of the obese aunties inside and wondered if they really get anything of their sizes here or they have any magical properties to reduce their bosoms. As usual, neither Sam nor Navya/Neha bought anything. And we collectively decided not to step into any other shop and headed for bowling. 

I tell you, if you are looking for some serious stage performance and theatre talents, then the shoe kiosk in the bowling alley is the place for you to hunt. People act and put so much of scene to wear those shoes, ufff! Even a person with OCD for cleanliness wouldn’t do so much.

And at one side of the mall, there’ll always be some brand awareness campaigns going on. This was a shaving razor brand and guys were standing in queue, only to check out the good looking chick doing announcements. Blimey!

Window shopping inside Orion

And all the Aam Aadmi like me associating the unknown brand names in their own way like Zara – and recalling “Zara Zara touch me touch me” song and giggling passively or Café NOIR – Assuming it is by some Malayali NAIR. Visiting almost all the shops and outlets in there with absolutely no intention of buying anything! If at all, we pay visit to the food court, we end up eating golgappas by paying 50 bucks a plate and silently cry (Yaar bahar paanch plate kha sakte the:( The great Indian rudiment goes on and on.

Houseful KFC

Needless to say, the McD and the KFC in any mall will always be houseful and poor husbands thronging in the queue with their kids cuffed on both hands, struggling to even open their wallets, while their wives are busy talking to their friends on how expensive these malls are and how they managed to buy a pair of tees in Westside. Bechara husbands yaar! I pity them

In the end, the same traffic pile up to get out of the mall; forget all the good(?) times we had inside and cursing the mall for exorbitant parking fees and finally eat happily in a roadside chat stall and call it our day!

For some who do this every week, we shall call this affair as “Mall-o-mall Weekly”

Image courtesy:thenewindianexpress.com, siliconindia.com and pardaphash.com

Malleswaram - The aura of old Bangalore

Ritesh’s post about Malleswaram on facebook made me all nostalgic. I recalled the good old days of my childhood, about namma Bengaluru, about Malleswaram. If you are not living in Bangalore from late 80s or early 90s, then you’ll probably not be able to imagine the way Bangalore has transformed from a tinsel town with more trees than its own people to a metropolis with more outsiders than its own. No offense meant; perhaps such petty distinctions don’t matter at all. In spite of such a radical change, there are some places which, even today, bequeath the Aura of the old Bangalore. Malleswaram is one such place. I have very fond memories of Malleswaram. So much so that if you tell a BMTC bus number I can tell you if it plies through this place. I’m glad to have recalled it by virtue of this blog post.

Malleswaram circle before construction of Grade Separator

Just 15-16 years ago, it was a routine for my family to visit Malleswaram on the eve of any festival. Be it Sankranti or Ugadi or Ganesha Chaturthi. We used to board the bus numbered 1, 91 and 91C (Not sure if these buses are still there) from Chamarajpet. It used to reach Malleswaram via K R Market, Corporation, Nrupatunga road and Seshadripuram. There was no Vikasa soudha then. So if I imagine today, it was like going inside Vidhana Soudha. Not even a single fly over and I’ve seen Nrupatunga road and KG road being two ways at that time! Yeah. Hard to imagine!

We used to get down in Malleswaram circle. Shopping for my mom would kick off from there itself. I always urged my mom to get down in 8^thcross bus stop because of a tonga stand and a public toilet next to Malleswaram circle bus stop whose aroma I couldn’t stand. But mom wouldn’t listen because she would miss picking up mango leaves (mavina yele) in 5^th cross.

Malleswaram is one such place where no one can go hungry. Then there were no Mantris, No Rajadhanis and no Maiyyas. But it was almost tradition for us to break off and stop at CTR for a crispy Masala Dosa, Sahyadri café for a hot cup of coffee and Janata Hotel which is world famous in Bangalore for its amazing crusty Vadas and dosas. I wish I had enough words to describe the ecstasy of eating local!

Crispy CTR Masala Dosa

After being fortified at Janata, CTR or Sahyadri Café, continuing the shopping along the side of sampige road, the best part for me were new dresses @ T D Shah (Not sure if its sill there). And then my mom would stop by Murugan Ghee stores in 10^th cross and finally the shopping would end in Malleswaram market with flowers and we would board the same bus in Margosa road and head back home, thus ending the life’s little pleasures, but in a very big way.

Even today during festival time, cordiality and sparkle fills entire stretch of sampige road; with colors, sounds, fragrances and of course we the people. Oh the bliss! Only people who’ve seen malleswaram during festivals can imagine what I’m talking about. Malleswaram is seriously old Bangalore. Though lots of changes have taken place, somehow the refusal of Malleswaram itself to modernize has to be appreciated. If at all there are some things about Bangalore that has not changed, Malleswaram definitely tops that chart.

Flowers @ Malleswaram market

Take some time off your shopping malls and meander through the vibrant Sampige road on the eve of a festival, to experience the cultural extravaganza of old Bangalore, “Namma” Bangalore. Give a day break to your McDonalds and KFCs and explore the desi tindis you get in this vicinity before you regret, or at least to tell your kids that you had gone to this place once, without which your love for Bangalore will cease to exist.

Oh wait. Without the allusions of Kadu malleswara Temple, Asha sweets, Geetanjali talkies, Iyer mess, Veena stores and my personal favourite Raghavendra stores, both Malleswaram and this post will be incomplete.

 

Daddy.. Daddy cool - A short story

It was early 1990s and Bangalore was still not on the global maps with all the IT revolution and political folly; yet the city had its own charm and warmth. There was this small family and a happy family. The father was well off in a job that paid him well, more than enough to lead a happy life. Mother was a school teacher. They were bestowed with a son and life was perfectly blissful.

The father loved his son so much that he gave all the comforts in life without saying NO to any of his demands even though it burdened him at times. He always wanted to see his son happy, no matter what; the father was the real enthusiastic “daddy cool” types that we all get to see in movies. For obvious reasons, the son’s favorite lines were “My daddy strongest”. Quite naturally, the father was a hero in his son’s eyes. 

On the contrary, father always believed that real heroes are made by the paths they choose and not by the powers they are graced with. Somewhere deep in his heart, it was bothering him very much that the path that he is taking, is not his, at all! Though it was giving him good fortunes, his heroisms were somewhere else. And he had always envisioned it. It was his dream, his passion, fervor, obsession, craze and his everything.

 One fine day, the god bestows the courage on the father and he resigns the job which has given him all the comforts. He comes out of his comfort zone to explore his dream. He invests all his nest eggs, things he saved for a rainy day to nurture his dream. It kicks off well, but for some reasons, it meets with an accident and it collapses. Fate has something else in store for him.

The father is trapped in deep shit. He has dreams worth millions, but left with no penny in his pocket. On the other side, his son is no more a kid. But the image he has about his father is deep rooted in his hearts. He expects his father to meet all his expectations in the same way he used to earlier. But the father is broke and insolvent now. He is no longer able to meet the son’s demands. 

The son is adolescent now and he is not exposed to such unpleasant censures until now. This continues for a while and son starts to retaliate. He is forced to change school. The family moves to a small house in the outskirts of the city. Father cannot afford a bicycle but son wants it. The same applies to video games, school excursions, uniforms etc.  Issues after issues arise. All these things slowly replace the HERO image that he saw in his father with that of a villain. I don’t know if it is justified to put the blame on son; but the scenario at home takes a U-turn. And the mother, just like any other Indian women; watches all this helplessly.

Father’s debts pile up in a heap. Banks chase him for nonpayment of loans and his own house is auctioned. Darkness covers the whole family. Father’s passion for movies gives him a job of writing articles and movie reviews for a local newspaper.  But his struggles moves on with him. The day when father says he cannot afford his engineering tuition fees and asks him to join a local college for Bachelors in Science, his son develops a disgusting hatred for him. So much that he didn’t even want to see his face. He could not believe once he respected his openness so much. Shouting, yelling and screaming at his father becomes everyday routine for son. But the father just folds his hands and remains silent… The son made it a habit to loathe his dad. The son’s behavior and the adversity transform the family into a melancholic disaster.

After 8 years:

Somehow life has moved on and things have slowly settled down. At the age of 66, father has retired for good and happiness is slowly burgeoning back in the family. A famous publisher has come forward to publish a book on all his articles that appeared in newspaper. The book is being launched by a famous personality, also a friend of the father. As the father’s friend launching the book talks about the life of the father, his interests, his passion and his personal life…… how he wove his way from the autonomy towards adversity and back again, how he managed to come out of it; the commuters stared curiously and it’s applaud and praise all over the hall. They give him a standing ovation. The air in the room fills with respect for the old man. On the stage, the father folds his hands and remains silent… just like before

 

The son, standing by the side of the podium has the moment of epiphany; he recalls those days of his crusade against his father. He realizes how opaque his eyes were and how dense his heart was.  He wonders why it took him so long to understand that his father was not really responsible for things that happened. Like so many others he was just a victim of circumstances. The father was just trying to be “Himself” all these days. He just couldn’t open his eyes and see it.  That moment he realizes that it is iceberg's destiny to melt in its own water.

.…and tears roll down his eyes silently!

Sometimes it takes maturity, a lot of maturity to understand certain things in life.

Mindset, certainty and KONE elevators

You know those awkward moments when your mindset takes control over the certainty? That’s exactly what happened to me today morning. I had a chance to make the right move. But, I didn’t. Instead, I asked my brains to shut up and did exactly what I wasn’t supposed to do. Not sure if Sigmund Freud has explained this; Not sure how you’d rate my stupidity after reading this; I had no choice but to feel terrible. 

Scene 1: (A week ago)I was reading newspaper and came across a column where the news of one Nithin Rai Chitransh with 15 others had been the victims of a lift free fall from 7^th floor in Fidelity office in Bangalore. I have a friend with the same name who works for the same company. For a second I wanted to call him to make sure everything’s alright. But the other side of my brain said that I’m probably thinking too much. My mindset said to me that “Arrey, from the day I started working on a brain application that identifies Alzheimer’s, I’ve been thinking very negatively; Saala Nithin ko kya ho sakta hai?” and I kept quiet.

Scene 2: (Today), while chatting on facebook with Nithin Rai Chitransh:

Me: Yaar, Maine padha paper main ki koi Nithin Rai Chitransh Fidelity me kaam karnewala gir gaya lift se” …“Kahin wo tum to Nahin?” . (I asked him so casually with so much of conviction that it’s not him)

Nithin:“ Kamine kutte... Itni fikar thi too call kar leta. Haa mai hee hoon.. Sale dost bolte hoo.. 9 floors ka free fall aur phir right leg ki surgery..

I couldn’t believe it! I called Neelu and had it confirmed that it was indeed him. That was the moment of shame. That was my inability to see something that was genuinely obvious. Though this was lodged in that part of my mind where fantasy was permissible, the revelation was awkward. Now I really cannot ascertain if the way I handled things was right or not; but certainly, I’ve started doubting my state of mind. If I had 100 Nithin Rai chitranshs who work in Fidelity, I’d have justified this. How could I not gauge the circumstances with presence of mind? How couldn’t I handle a situation of this simple triviality with ease? Never was there a time where I felt this bad. Perhaps more so to me because in past, I’ve laughed at people who are driven by emotions.

Now he’s had his surgery and recuperating and Fidelity his supporting him in all the possible ways. Thank heavens. This incident may be just another incident for you. But for me, on the other hand, it’s spectacular how life teaches us lessons! A man’s true potential arises when he encounters something which pushes him into the need for self examination and self explanation. The situation may or may not be subtle; but it’s our mindset that decides if it is gentle, poetic, volatile or cruel. The experience was not a pleasant one, but what I learnt, I thought is worth a share! And of course, “Nithin, get well soon mamu!

P.S:  Dear “KONE” elevators, Fuck you and your technology. Go to hell!

Image courtesy: odalternatives.com

Love marriage ya arranged marriage

The Indian essentials are a little bizarre to understand. We say Hockey is our national game, but watch cricket more, we say Tiger is our national animal and we’ve killed all of them, we say love marriages are better but end up opposing it for our own kids. That said, the debate of love marriage v/s arranged marriage in the Indian context is entirely distinct. There are many reasons behind this. Ours is not a “He tried-she smiled-baby cried” society. Love is the essence of our culture (or we assume so). And above all, we are goaded by the timeless bollywood love tales a little too much. It doesn’t come as a surprise that Raj and Simran are more than just movie characters in India.

Love marriage: It has its own advantages. You are determined to live a life in a fictitious way you’ve envisaged by watching too many bollywood chick flicks. You search off your own path only to discover that the course of love is not an easy trail. You get to spend quality time with her, understand her, you care for her, you are compatible with her and so you love her. Love happens at breakneck speed. But one important thing two people in love miss out to check is the compatibility of your beloved one with your family. We just assume that he/she will be liked by the family just the way you liked him/her. This is where the problem with love marriage sets in. Most of the parents know that the adrenaline rush has made you consider only beauty, lust, attraction and infatuation before saying yes to him/her and the parents fear the sustainability of this love. The foundation of love is strong, only if it is built on trust and not lust. In India, just falling in love with the right person is not enough; you should have the courage to convince your family without which you’ll be in crisis. For most of the people in love, their family becomes an archetypical desperado.

Arranged marriage: On the contrary, arranged marriages are more successful than love marriages. I really can’t fathom the reason behind this. But most of the arranged marriages are done by the folks who’ve inculcated a fear of “what society thinks if we do otherwise”. These types of people get “used to” things pretty soon. Their happiness is confined, limited and bound to certain areas beyond which they don’t want to explore. The fear of Society (it is called Anthropophobia) is what makes people accept things that come their way even though it is barbed. It is this fear that makes the most arranged marriages in India successful. In other words, the success of arranged marriage in India is solely judge on how others envisage it.

 

From Seeta’s Swayamwar in Ramayan to Rakhi’s Swayamwar on NDTV Imagine, we’ve come a long way in transforming the way marriages are held in a radical way. But we are not able to think of arranged marriages beyond caste, color and creed.  What a pity! It makes me wonder how people give more importance to gold than the girl. They take so much of interest even in choosing the color of saree, but they fail to notice if there is a smile on their daughter’s face. 

To me, the only difference is, in love marriage, I’ll love and marry. In arranged marriage, I’ll marry and love. Because, in the end, arranged marriage needs love and care to flourish and prosper. Love marriage needs some arrangements and understandings to be full of life. It’s the essence of love that decides how far you go.; not how you get married.

P.S: This article is an entry for Indiblogger’s Love Marriage ya arranged marriage contest, sponsored by Sony entertainment television. More details on the page http://www.facebook.com/LoveYaArrange

Image courtesy: dishtracking.com and bakadesuyo.com

Ganpat – The “Dhoni after IPL mix”

Ae ganpat chal daaru la ||2||
Ice jyada soda kum thoda paani mila ||2||
Thoda table veble saaf kar de na yaar ||2||

Ae ganpat, ganpat -

(Gauti, Sharukh and other KKR boys performing)

In the Chennai, all over India
We aar the baays, we aar the baays

Bhaai main bhaai tu fikar na kar
Uski *** ki uski Bisla ki jo dekhe idhar
Bravo ko bata de kabhi ho gayi fantar
Sabki fathti helicopter shot se apun maare jidhar
Thoda coke shoke to Jadeja ko de na yaar
  Ae ganpat, ganpat
  Ae ganpat chal daaru la

(Gauti, Shah rukh and other KKR boys performing)

In the Chennai, all over India
We aar the bays, we aar the baays

Suresh Raina, Murli Vijay ya ho Mike Hussey
Jaaye saala jaake jahaan marzi maraaye
Srinivasan, Srikanth apni picture banaaye
Apun kya lena, jaise taise, paise kamaaye
Apun ko toh chaahiye din mein special chaai
Shaam ko match, raat ko superbike ride aur nind aa jaaye

Ae ganapat, Ae ganapat.... chal

Dekh paltke main hoon Srini
Har baazi se main hi hoon Srini
Tu dil hain main jaan hoon Srini
Tu dil hain main jaan hoon Srini 

(Gauti, Shahrukh and other KKR boys performing)

In the Chennai, all over India
We aar the bays, we aar the baays

Kaalis smart ho ya phir hove Gayle
Sabko to hoti only tere Jadeja ki
Koi saala faltu valtu tapka daal du main
Maar maar ke maar maar ke phod daalta hoon main
Thoda runner up ka bhi paisa tu dena yaar
Thoda hero impulse bike mujhe dena yaar

(Gauti, Sharukh and other KKR boys performing)

In the Chennai, all over India
We aar the bays, we aar the baays

Par yeh Gauti kaun hai..??

This post is for fun and only pure fun. It depicts nothing else against IPL or any franchises. I have nothing personal against CSK, KKR or IPL. In fact I'ma  huge IPL fan by myself. Any resemblance with any person in whatsoever way is truly unintentional and co incidental.

 Original Lyrics: Dev Kohli