Memories #8 - Reading-Part 2

First year in the Engineering College was very different because it was a new and colorful world with unbridled freedom. You would rather hang out with your friends and roam around the city rather than cuddle up in a corner of your room with a book in your hand. It was only during the middle of the Second year that I came back to the world of books again. This was during the semester breaks when you get a week or so off before the next semester starts. This was the time when I started reading the Bourne Series. Eric Lustbader’s Miko-Ninja series and getting a glimpse of the James Hadley Chase Series of books.  Those were the days when you remain shut in the room for the entire day reading and going out of the room to only eat. I recollect vaguely that I used to cover up to 300 pages in a day at that time. After a book I ensured that I took a break and went out with friends. In all probability they would give me a look of bewilderment when I tell them as to what I was up to for the rest of the days.

It was around this time that I got to hear about the British Council of India Library in Trivandrum. It was one of the best libraries in town fully air-conditioned and also boasted a very good ambience of the reading hall. It was quite different from the Central Public Library that we were accustomed to. I remember once we had to write a project on the poet Oscar Wilde. I had gone to the Public Library along with a couple of friends took out some reference books made notes on the author spending a day or so over there. Then wrote a fair copy and submitted for grading.  Coming back to the British Library the ambience of the reading hall was out of the world. This became another abode of me I ended up spending some quality time over there. A majority of the users who came there had come mainly to use the complimentary internet rather than reading. Here, I was introduced to the expatriate Indian writers which included Anita Desai and Jhumpa Lahiri. I still remember the first book that I borrowed and read from the Library was ‘Man-Eaters of Kumaon’ by Jim Corbett which I thoroughly enjoyed. It was a book describing the hunting expeditions of the author who was a well-known wild life enthusiast .There was a sequel to this book which I really wanted to read but couldn’t get hold of it. As I write this piece I recall this long forgotten fact and have just ordered the sequel of this book in Amazon. Going through the book I can very well recreate the thrill that I had experienced back then. It was a disappointment that The British Library in Trivandrum shut down over the years.

It would be disservice if I don’t mention about the Harry Potter series of books which turned out to be the biggest block buster of our times. You would be surprised to know that even though being a reading buff I have not read a single book of that series. For some odd reason I never felt interested in reading them. The reason could be that it became popular during the pressure cooker years (Class 10 to 12) that I described earlier. On hindsight I think it would have been the fantasy part of the book that might have put me off them .It was rather amusing to note that my cousins in Australia would camp near the book stores on the midnight of the release so that they could lay their hands on the book. Within the next 2-3 days they would complete that book and mail it to my younger brother here in India who would devour the book on a single brace. That way he would complete reading the book even before it is released in India and start bragging about it. 

Another prolific period of reading in my life was when I moved to Mumbai for work. I had plenty of time to spare and I was a regular at the footpaths that sold second hand books in and around Churchgate where my brother was based at that time. Since he was in college he himself had a good number of books which he would lend me to read.  That was when I was introduced to the likes of Paulo Coelho, Dan Brown and other contemporary writers of the time. I can very well recall the goosebumps that I experienced while reading “The Da Vinci Code” and “Angels and Demons” primarily because I am a devout catholic. Shataram is another book that captivated my attention at that time because it had Bombay at its heart and I have been living in Bombay for a few years then.

After marriage it became difficult to read a book because both of us were working and we had very little time to spend with each other. If I settled with a book at that time it would mean my spouse would just get bored. You can take away a book from the reader but never the habit of reading from him. Sensing my predicament my wife got me “The Kite Runner” by Khaled Hosseini as a birthday gift. I was very much overjoyed to lay my hands on a book that I finished reading the book over the weekend which was reminiscent of my College days. Thankfully, it helped me hit the reset button on my favorite hobby. This was just the start which eventually led me to get immersed in books from then on. All because of the timely intervention of my wife I was back into my groove. And boy it felt so wonderful to settle down with a book amid the din and fury of Corporate life. Meanwhile, she also started reading to keep herself occupied when I was with a book. I should say I was pretty impressed with her reading speed for someone who never pursued it as a hobby.

It was 20 years after “The God of Small Things” was written by Arundhati Roy that I read it. The whole time I was wondering as to what took me so long read this fine piece of literature. I loved it so much that my wife pre ordered the latest book by the same author ”The Pursuit of Happiness” even before its release. It was a first for me where I got to read a newly released book thanks to her. At work after moving into a new team, during my first interaction with my Senior Manager who is based out of Brazil, he happened to mention that he had read the former book and loved it. I told him that I came from a place that is just about 100 km from the town Ayemenem where the Novel was set. Ms Roy had managed to paint quite a vivid picture of Kerala in the mind of someone half way across the world, a testimony of her brilliance. That was enough for him to understand very well as to why I had an anglicized name and my background without any further explanation required from my side. 

Slowly I started to read more and more books by different authors. I also got in the habit of binge reading the books of an author whose book I liked. This happened with the authors Khaled Hosseini, Jhumpa Lahiri, Paulo Coelho, Gabriel Garcia Marques among others. “A Suitable Boy” by Vikram Seth which I completed reading recently on the recommendation of a dear friend with 1350 pages is till date the biggest book that I have ever read. I got to say this reading has its own advantages. Take the case when I was doing my MBA course we used to get Case Studies to read and analyse which ran into a good number of pages. My peers always used to complain about this especially during exams saying that such big case studies would eat away most of their time.I realized that I was always cool with it because my reading  speed was quite good thanks to my habit.

Fast forward a few years into the future and  I can sense the feeling of amusement in my son’s face when he is going to read from my Personal Journal that ‘Love in the Time of Cholera’ by Gabriel Garcia Marques was the book that I was reading at the time of his birth. At that time when I used to accompany my wife for regular checkups I made it a point to carry with me this book so that I could kill time while we are waiting for something or the other. I will not forget the bewildered expression in my wife’s face when I entered the labor room with the book in my hand. She is like “Are you going to read the book when I am in so much pain”. I promptly removed the book from her sight.

P.S:If you liked reading chek out a similar post in the topic by clicking the link below. 

Newspapers

Book reviews

Men and Dreams in the Dhauladhar

A suitable boy

Memories #7 - Reading part 1

Reading is one of the most underrated hobbies that one can possess. However, I need to forewarn that unfortunately it is a dying hobby as well. As someone who has been exposed to books quite early in childhood it is not a big deal that I still pursue this hobby. The earliest memory of me reading a book is as a 6 or 7 year old. My father used to get me these picture books which had more pictures and a very few words. It was a colour illustration, basically there will be a picture and then a bit of text. It traced the everyday life of a family of four, a father mother with 2 children. Right now I only remember the name of the little girl in the book, Jane. Each book was hardly 10-12 pages in length and would go on to explain different activities. One book could be about the family visiting the beach another about a park another about School and so on. It described the lives of the protagonists in a foreign country which made it all the more interesting. I was rather amused when I heard one of my elderly cousins narrating as to how I was obsessed with these books when I was a kid. It so happened that me along with my Dad and Mom used to come once in a year to Kerala to our Family home. In those days we were based out of Gwalior Madhya Pradesh where my father was posted as an Indian Police Service Officer. My cousins who were almost the same age as me would come and ask me to play with them. I would be sitting near my grandmother and reading these books, who would chase them away telling them to leave me undisturbed. I have no recollection of this incident but it is highly probable that this might have occurred.

Another initiation towards reading is the huge number of books that were there courtesy my father’s huge book collection. Long before Matt Damon made “The Bourne Trilogy” a popular movie franchisee I had read “The Bourne Identity” by Robert Ludlum as a teenager. I remember after reading the first 2 books in the Series with bated breath, I called up my cousin to check with her if she had the third and final installment of the book. Quite often if a book in a series was missing it was quite possible that the missing book might be among my father’s brothers book Collections. I wasn’t relieved to be told that she indeed had the copy but she agreed that she would lend it to me on one condition; I had to lend her the other 2 books. Ian Fleming, Eric Van Lustbader, Robert Ludlum, Fredrick Forsyth, Wilbur Smith, James Patterson were household names that I still recollect vividly.

 

James Hadley Chase and Nick Carter series also captivated my imagination. By now you must have rightly guessed that all these books were of the Thriller, Crime and Action genre. It has to be also mentioned that all these books did have a bit of explicit content as well .I had read 3 Ian Fleming books Casino Royale, Dr No and The Moonraker before watching my first James Bond movie “Tomorrow never dies” starring Pierce Brosnan and Michelle Yeoh.

 

I developed this habit of reading the book first and then watching the movie then. Needless to say I have been disappointed many a times to see the adaptation of a book on screen. Most often than not the soul of the story is lost when it is made into a movie. The only exception being “The Godfather” by Mario Puzo which I found the book and the movie to be equally engaging. Marlon Brando playing the ageing don and Al Pacino playing his son are legends on their own right. I have still not watched the movie “Life of Pie” because I want to read the book first. This was the story at our home

 

Now moving onto the School I was fortunate enough to study in Loyola School, Trivandrum which greatly encouraged reading. Every week we could borrow upto 2 books. At the age of 10 I was introduced the Enid Blyton’s Secret Seven and Famous Five series. Oh boy it was such a delight to follow a group of children out there solving mysteries which was enough to captivate any child’s imagination. The team meetings of the Secret Seven were closed door and the door would be opened only if a specific password was said. Every meeting used to decide what would be the next meetings password.  Mind you this was much before a computer or a smartphone made an entry into our lives which used the same Principle. The Famous Five was also having a very similar setting with a dog as its member. How much ever I try to recollect I can’t remember a single name of any of the characters. I remember I used to maintain a list of the Famous Five and Secret Seven books that I had read at that time.

 Within a couple of years I outgrew them and slowly graduated to the Hardy Boys and Nancy Drew series. The brothers Frank and Joe Hardy on one end and Nancy Drew on her own were out to solve mysteries. It was also a sneak peek into the world of teenagers in the Western world which was lapped up by the adolescents in India. The concept of boyfriend-girlfriend was introduced to us during this time. At this age we were hooked to books. It so happened that I used to commute in the School Bus. It was a 45 minute ride for me it was not an uncommon sight to see boys busy ready books during the entire course of the journey or so for that matter reading their books even when they were waiting at the bus stop. I was also no different as you could always find a book on my hand. I guess more or less the habit has stuck with me to the say the least. When I am travelling by flight or by train I always make it a point to carry a book with me all the time. Train journeys are the best if you ask me because it gives you ample time to read and settle into a rhythm. Take for instance my journey from Mumbai (where I live currently) to Thiruvananthapuram (my hometown) takes around 30 hours. With a book you are fully engaged during the waking hours and time passes more quickly. Whenever, you want to take a beak you just need to look at the scenic beauty of the Konkan or just hop out at any station and stretch your legs maybe get a hot chai or some snacks to recharge yourself. The problem with flight journeys though you get a few hours it doesn’t let you settle into a rhythm. Living in a city notorious for traffic it is a norm than an exception to reach the airport well ahead of time. That gives you a lot of time after check in to read.
 

Moving on by the time I was 14 I got tired of the Hardy Boys and Nancy Drew series it was time to take it to the next level. I remember that was the first time I read Sherlock Holmes I remember that I had to re-read the deductions of Sherlock Holmes mostly towards the end of each story where Mr Holmes explains to his side kick Dr Watson as to how he had arrived to his conclusions. It was a bit taxing but still fun. Years later when I watched the BBC series of Sherlock with Benedict Cumberbatch as the protagonist it evoked a deep sense of nostalgia and I was easily able to follow the plotlines. However, no such extra effort was required to read Agatha Christie’s series with Hercule Poirot as its protagonist. It is at this time that I slowly started reading the Nick Carter and James Bond Series of books from my Dad’s collection. The next 3 years with your tenth and twelfth boards along with the quintessential Engineering/Medical Entrance exams ensured that I didn’t touch a single book other than my study books during that period.

To be continued...

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Book reviews

Men and Dreams in the Dhauladhar

A suitable boy

Memories #6-The Tea story

Epilogue

“Imagination, life is your creation”  one of the lines from the popular hit song of the 90’s titled “I am a Barbie girl” (band -Aqua) pretty much sums up the importance of imagination in my growing up years as I was a very imaginative kid. While going through my journal that I had written as a 13 year old I came across one of my write ups that I had prepared as part my English language class. The English Teacher comes to the class one fine day and gives you a topic for writing. Within 30 minutes you need to write something and submit. The teacher would take the books and grade it and give it back to you, this was the drill. In this case going against precedence she said she would select the best piece and ask it to be read in class. The following excerpt is straight out of my diary with very little editing so as to retain its originality

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Some two or three weeks before Lucy madam (English Teacher) gave one sentence, we had to make an interesting story. You have to the Sentence was “When I was drinking a cup of tea…”We have to continue writing and Madame said that she would tell the best 3 compositions. They should read that in class. She named 2 students and asked them to read. But she asked them to stop as it was not the one that she had in mind. Then she said the theme was about a cricket match. I had wrote one about a cricket match. So I and other two fellows told that they had written about a cricket match. Then she said that it ends when he is in the hospital. So I got up and the others told that it was not theirs. Madam checked mine and said that was it. Madam told that it was imagination in the story that made it special. Hearing this I was confident and went for essay writing. The composition that I wrote was like this.

When I was drinking a cup of team there came a cockroach from the cup. I fainted seeing that. I was suddenly in a ground wearing a yellow T-Shirt with the name Gilchrist written in it(Australia’s present wicket keeper) I saw that Glenn Mcgrath (Australian fast bowler) was running and coming to ball, on my front was Lance Klusener, on the non-striker’s end was Jonty Rhodes. I got an idea of the situation in which I was.

The ball pitched on the ground and went swinging to the right I darted towards the ball and caught it. The next over was to be bowled by the great and only Shane Warne. The ball hit the bat of Jonty Rhodes and was coming to my left I caught it somehow and heard a huge round of applause.

I couldn’t believe my eyes all the players came and congratulated me. Among them were Mark Waugh, Steve Waugh ,Warne, Bevan,Ponting etc etc. Then at that moment I glanced at the scoreboard, there was one over one wicket left and nine runs to win. First two balls went like lightning to the fence with only one run to win. Klusener hit the ball and ran but Bevan caught it,Alan Donald at the non striker’s end did not run. Bevan threw the ball to Fleming (the bowler) who in turn threw it to me. I ran to the front and stumped him. Then what I could remember was that I was at the ICU unit of a hospital. I came to know that I was unconscious for the past one day and the reason was food poisoning.

I also knew the reason why I had that particular dream while I was drinking coffee I was watching the semifinals of the world cup between Australia and South Africa.

X--------X

Howwas(is)it

I was called in the class as Gilchrist in the class because I had argued that he was the best wicket keeper batsman in the world.

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Prologue

Those were  the days when match fixing scandal was yet to come to light and I used to follow the not only the World Cup 99, but also cricket closely. This also gives me an insight as to how I have evolved as a writer over the years. My earliest memory of seriously writing something was at the age of 10. I had shared my first piece of writing in one of my previous posts in this blog a few years ago.

 

http://myrandomthoughts-bevin.blogspot.com/2013/10/memories-1.html

The compliment from my English teacher increased my confidence manifold. I had not written much after my article in the school magazine for a couple of years until then. My journal goes on to state that buoyed by this success I went to participate in the Essay Writing and Short Story Competition organized as part of our School’s Youth Festival. Further I went on to win prizes for the writing events which was a kind of first for me. I guess that was the point when I rediscovered the writer in me and turned to writing again. This incident goes onto prove that a small word of encouragement can go a long way in making an impact on a kid’s life. Just look at yourself and introspect as to when was the last time you complimented your kid or your younger cousins/friends.

Many years later during the UPSC Civil Service (IAS) coaching days in Delhi when I had shared the idea of this write up, my flat mates had complimented me for my wild imagination. Almost 2 decades after it was written and forgotten I discovered this by sheer chance. It reminded me of the importance of imagination in our day to day lives. I feel as we get older we need more of our imagination to navigate through the tests and tribulations of adult life.   

 

Memories #5-How I Met your Mother

As my 5 month old son lay cooing next to me, I decided to narrate the story to him of “How I met your Mother”in the voice of the protagonist Ted Moseby of the popular show. This was my favorite sitcom from the last decade only second to the all-time great F.R.I.E.N.D.S. For starters both our houses back in our hometown of Trivandrum (TVM), Kerala are merely a km apart. However, both of us left the place almost a decade back me for work and she for Post-Graduation/Work.  Growing up I recollect seeing her in a number of occasions since both of us went to the same church. But my wife has no recollection of seeing me at all. I was a bit unsettled when she told me this for the first time because I was fairly high profile in the church thanks to dabbling various roles like the Altar Server*, Catechism(Sunday School ) Teacher, Bible reader during the Church Service and so on. I guess it was her way to put me in my place then itself. To prove a point during our wedding ceremony I made sure that I did the Bible Reading myself which was unprecedented. My rationale was that way at least she would at least understand that I was not boasting.

*Altar Servers-An altar server is a lay assistant to a member of the clergy during a Christian liturgy. An altar server attends to supporting tasks at the altar such as fetching and carrying, ringing the altar bell, among other things. Source: Wikipedia

I also recollect vaguely seeing her in the White and Maroon School uniform of St Thomas School while waiting at the bus stop and all. Now a bit of history about our Schools there was a bit of rivalry among our schools since these were among the prominent Schools of the city. Today even while going to a get together involving the former Alumni of these schools we don’t let slip an opportunity to make fun of each other’s School.  Loyola my school was a boys only school while St Thomas School was a co-ed school. The rivalries in basketball tournaments is quite well known. Not only  that LA Fest, the one of its kind Cultural fest organized by Loyola for schools at that  time saw a whole hearted participation from St Thomas. I can’t go ahead without mentioning another School in the city  viz Holy Angels because this was a girls only School and a favorite topic of interest of the Loyolites.  In addition there were umpteen tuition classes in the city which comprised of students of all these schools. These were some of the forums that the students from schools interacted with each other .There is no chance we might have met in tuition classes because we are from 2 different batches.

Once while we were discussing our activities in the Church it came to our notice that in the year 2000 both of us had gone in the Church bus to write an exam conducted by the Trivandrum Archdiocese*. Both of us had topped for Catechism (Sunday school) in our respective classes and were selected to represent our Parish in that class. Come to think of it both of us were in that bus chatting with our friends oblivious of the fact that their life partner is in that very same bus. This could very well be a scene straight out of the movie. I remember that journey and the exam very well because it t was the first time I had topped the class and got to represent my Parish. I was in my 10^th grade at that time.

* An Archdiocese refers to an administrative territorial entity of the Catholic Church in a district headed by the Archbishop and is divided into Parishes under the charge of priests. Source: Wikipedia

I have often imagined how both of us would have interacted if we had the met back then. The following excerpt is prepared with inputs from Jeslin as well.

18 years ago during the Vacation Bible class in our Church both of us meet.

Angelo: Hi, my name is Angelo

Jeslin: Hi I am Jeslin

Angelo: I remember seeing you for the TVM Arch Diocese exam last month.

Jeslin: I don’t recollect seeing you

Angelo: How did the exam go?

Jeslin: It was okay

Angelo: I am studying in 10^th grade in Loyola School and also the Alter boys Leader

Jeslin (in her condescending tone): So what am I supposed to do?

Angelo: Just wanted to say hello

Jeslin: Okay

Angelo (Thinking to himself and beating a hasty retreat): She is very haughty, shouldn’t have spoken to her in the first place.
Jeslin (Thinking to herself): What is wrong with that guy?

XX End of story XX

Almost a decade and a half later both of us were attending the Marriage Preparation course at the Headquarters of the Trivandrum Arch Diocese. I was asked to assist the Archbishop in the Holy Mass Service that he was offering for all the couples present there. I have not assisted in a Holy Mass after my School days but more or less knew what needs to be done. As I was getting ready I remarked to the Mother Superior (Head Nun) that it was a strange co- incidence that the last time I served for this very same Bishop in a Holy Mass was about 15 years ago. He had visited our Parish for administering the Sacrament of Confirmation*. Incidentally my wife was also one of the recipients and I was the head alter server then. I felt as if life had come a full circle for me. The Nun told me that it is Providence that brought you two together and you guys are a blessed couple.

*The Sacrament of Confirmation is one of the three sacraments of initiation into the Catholic Church together with Baptism and Holy Communion. (source:www.catholiccompany.com)

Even today it beats me as to think as to how my wife could miss out such a prominent figure like me in the church during that time. Many a times I have tried to narrate incidents to her that might invoke in her some memory of me but I fail miserably .I always console myself by saying that maybe I might have looked very different at that time. This could be the reason why she couldn’t recognize me years later. Come to think of it every husband wants his wife to hold him in high regard.I would like to share an interesting anecdote in this regard of Field Marshal SFHJ Manekshaw one of the finest Military Generals of the Indian Army. During one of the public meetings where he was being felicitated for his extraordinary leadership during the Indo-Pak war, a speaker was going on and on singing praises of the General. While it was his chance to speak the General requested the speaker to write those praises in a piece of paper so that the General could show that to his wife which evoked a huge round of laughter.  

Memories #4 - Newspapers

 

Courtesy: Malayala Manorama website

 

Somewhere in the early 90’s I was introduced to “Malayala Manorama” the news paper that was subscribed in our home at that time.It has to be noted that this is one of the leading news dailies in Kerala. I used to observe the newspaper being closely read by each member of the household. At first I started checking out the paper out of curiosity. It was rather amusing to see that the men folk of the house were the most interested in the last page(sports page ). The magazine section that came along with the Sunday issue was eagerly awaited. There was a particular column in the Newspaper titled “Innathe Chinthavishayam”(Roughly translated to’ Today’s subject of thought’) which was religiously read everyone at home. It was a column on self-improvement, philosophy and the like. I never even bothered to look into that because it hardly made sense to me. But still it was interesting to see everyone asking each other if they had read it and they used to discuss its main points. This was my first initiation into the world of newspapers.

Gradually as I moved into adolescence The Indian Express was introduced to me with the intention of improving my English. At this stage of life there was competition for reading the newspaper now with my brother as we used to fight for the paper. We used to have fights with each other to get hold of the newspaper. My kid brother was interested mostly in the comic section of the newspaper. And yeah the TV guide section of the newspaper which detailed the programs of the Cartoon Network. It was the time when you started to read the newspaper from the last page. I still remember the Youth express titled “YES ” that was shared with the newspaper of Every Friday. It was here that I was introduced to the Page 3 news for the first time. This issue was half the size of the original paper and used to feature in its last page small posters of youth icons mostly Models and Sports stars. I remember vividly seeing such a picture of Trisha who had just started her career and was crowned Miss Chennai at that time. For the uninitiated Trisha is a leading Female Superstar of the Tamil movie industry who is still active. I remember there were also other columns in the issue that gave you the first taste of the tabloid culture. Another interesting thing I remember was the concept of Pen friend was introduced by this paper. I remember writing a couple of letters but never received any response. The language of the Indian Express was easy to understand and follow hence there was not much of an effort required to read it.

 

Courtesy: The Hindu website

Into the teens I was introduced to yet another newspaper “The Hindu” , to raise the bar of English vocabulary to another notch. I was in for a rude shock, this was totally different from the paper I was used to. For starters it was a very dry paper with only ‘news’. Young World was definitely a whiff of fresh air. For the first time you got to see the creations of the kids of your age who used to write from around the country. Even the language was very difficult to follow and not easy to comprehend. There were times when both of us used to get scolded for not spending time reading the newspaper. The major complaint was that the paper was as good as new even after a week, a testimony to the fact that no one had touched that. I even remember crumpling the paper intentionally to prevent such mishaps from happening. Thankfully my folks persisted. Slowly but steadily we started to get a hang of the newspaper. The Sunday Magazine was my favourite and I remember reading them cover to cover. For the record a good part of the Indian public first heard of Shashi Tharoor when he stood for election as the Secretary General of the UN. But long before that I was a regular reader of “The Shashi Tharoor Column” that was a part of the Hindu Sunday Magazine. He used to write on a varied list of subjects including his Alma mater St Stephen’s College Delhi. During that time when my friends at school were dreaming about joining IIT’s and AIMS I had this deep desire to study at St Stephen’s which never materialized. Years later while I was walking through the tree lined avenue of the North Campus of Delhi University I happened to pass through the gates of the college and immediately it sparked a string of memories. Over the years reading a newspaper turned out to be a leisure activity that I used to do when I took breaks from studying.

Moving to Delhi for the preparation of the UPSC Civil Services (IAS exam) it dawned on me that “The Hindu” was revered in this field of study.  Further it was extensively used for preparations and referred religiously .The editorials had to be read and analyzed in depth, this was the only thing new to me because I never used to pay much attention to the Editorials previously. Every day I used to spend considerable amount of time pouring through the paper and making notes on the daily happenings in a thick Spiral bound book. This came naturally to me since I was pretty comfortable with the newspaper right from my teens. It is in Delhi that I got the first taste of “Times of India” tabloid kind of masala newspaper. In my flat that I used to share with my fellow Civil Service aspirants we used to subscribe the paper for the glossy pictures in it. The colour section of the thick Delhi Times with news from Bollywood and the glamour world was the only source of entertainment for us at that time since our lives were devoid of Laptops and Cable Television.

After my stint in Delhi “The Hindu” became an integral part of my life. During my brief Tenure in an Engineering college in my home state of Kerala. I made it a point that I read through the Hindu to kill time in their Library since I was free after 6 PM and needed to go to the College Hostel only for dinner. As per the Library staff I was the only guy who used to go through the Hindu. They were even thinking of stopping the subscription of the newspaper since no one used to read it.

Then I landed up in Mumbai little did I know that I would have to bid goodbye to the habit called “The Hindu” in course of time. For starters there was no Mumbai edition back then. None of the newspaper stalls stocked it. I was in for a shock but luckily I found out a guy who was ready to provide me the previous day’s paper and that too at double its price. He said that these were specially flown in from Chennai. It was still fine for me because thanks to my work I was super busy and it didn’t matter which day you got the news. After sometime even this stopped because I started to get 2 days old newspapers and it was untenable. However,it was quite strange that I got the “Malayala Manorama”  in Mumbai. I made it a point that I would read the Malayalam dailies during the weekend and it made me reminiscent of my childhood.

I had great expectations when they started the Mumbai edition for my favourite newspaper. The series of ads that The Hindu and Times made spoofing each other was rather amusing to watch. The beauty of it was that I could relate to each of them because I had read both the papers. But still I couldn’t bring myself to take the Times seriously. Even today I read it feels just like I am reading some story not to be taken seriously. I was in for a huge disappointed when they brought out The Hindu Mumbai edition. It was an end to end colour print with double the price. It appeared to me that they were trying to mimic their rival in an effort to capture the market share. In the process they lost the readership of the serious readers like myself because I felt the newspaper lost its soul. However, the Trivandrum Edition which I used to read when I go to my hometown still maintains the high standards as before.

 In Mumbai I switched to The Indian Express which had a few stalwarts who had left the Hindu like Praveen Swami, Nirupama Subramanian, Praveen Swami, P Sainath etc. On Sundays when I go through the magazine section it is a sense of deja vu for me. I try to catch up during the weekends with Malayala Manorama which has started to loose its rustic charm, I strongly feel that I am slowly outgrowing it. That ladies and gentlemen is the story of the newspapers in my life, its like a cycle I started off with the Indian Express and ended up with Indian Express. If you ask me with the advent of technology Newspapers are dying a slow death. But believe me the feeling that you get with a hot cup of chai and the newspaper in your hand on a Sunday morning is irreplaceable.

I

Courtesy: Indian Express website

 

Memories #3 - The Cycle

I have been living in Mumbai for close to 7 years now and calling it my second home.  However, when pangs of nostalgia hit me I long for the city where I grew up in viz Trivandrum (TVM). Thanks to the birth of my son I got to have an extended stay in my hometown. I decided to spend some quality time with TVM (its not only with people that you get to spend a quality time).

My Hercules MTB bicycle was one of the first possessions in life that had came into my hands on June 6, 1998 when I was around 12. I have spent a good part of my adolescent years in that cycle until the advent of my bike in July 2004. The bicycle did take a backseat in my life and was handed over to my younger brother. Since the fitness bug had bit me back then even after owning a bike I made it a point that every weekday I used to cycle for 4 km from my home to All Saints College and back. I had zeroed in on the route just like that without any thought. I used to set out after coming home from college around 5:15 pm and be back by 6:30 pm .Now it has to be noted that All Saints College is one of the most popular girls college of the city. Naturally my mother got suspicious and engaged my brother to spy on me for a couple of days after seeing me religiously cycling every weekday. My brother reported to her that there was no monkey business. The reality was, at that point of time I didn’t even know the monkey or any business per se. Well it was just a coincidence that later in life I got married to the daughter of the Vice Principal of that very same college. Moving on I had a lot of memories attached with my bicycle. Just like the wheel of a car I used to refer to the handle of the Cycle as ‘The Barrel’ in the stories I used to write then. So naturally the cycle was all fixed up so that I can use it during my time in TVM.

 

 

I had longed for this cycle very much because until then I was using a much smaller cycle from my time in Gwalior. I remember that I was on cloud nine when I got to lay my hands on the beauty. My over smart brother who could barely reach out to the pedals started to use the cycle occasionally. Now to put him off I raised the height of the cycle to the maximum. To my dismay he started to stand and cycle so that he doesn’t have to sit anymore. I tell him always that you owe me one for your height of 6 feet 3 inches. There were countless instances when both of us had to go to church or someplace else and I used to ride with him. He used to sit in the rod between the handle bar and the seat while I cycled. Due to his growth spurt he far overtook me in height and we started to ride the cycle the other way round. One fine day while he was taking me to the bus stop so that I could go to college. He was bragging about the kind of control he had over the cycle. In the course of the conversation he started to ride the cycle with one hand to prove what he was saying. In an effort to further prove his point he let go both of his hands unmindful of my strong protests. We promptly crashed into an Electric Post at the side of the road while I landed up in the wall adjacent to the post,my brother fell on the road with the cycle. Years later it was a déjà vu moment when both of us fell onto the side of the road in our bike while navigating a slope. In both cases my brother was driving.

Barrotta, beef fry, chicken fry, all sorts of fish fried in coconut oil, Kappa-meen curry(Tapioca-fish curry) were my fellow travelers during my time in Trivandrum. It was as if I was making amends for the time I was away from here. I used take my wife for morning walks at the Napiers Museum, Kanakakunnu Palace and International Airport. Never ever until now had I visited these places with the intention just to walk around and I began to see these places in a totally different light. At other times my day in TVM started off with a 13 km cycle ride across the city to relive my adolescence. I always felt that I didn’t have to force myself unlike in Mumbai where I had to push myself every morning for a jog. During the course of my ride my mind was at ease and I had such clarity of thought that it gave me time to think reflect on a lot of things.  The idea for my previous 2 blog posts came to me while I was cycling .Cycling across TVM was the most liberating experience that I had, of letting go everything, it was as if I was a teenager back in time and boy that was such a wonderful feeling. And now I understand why it felt so effortless to go cycling every single morning.  It was simply because there were far too many memories attached to the activity. If you ask me anything and everything associated with nostalgia is definitely going to give you immense joy.

The side road from my house will lead up to the Vanchiyoor Court. The gentle incline of the Holy Angels Convent School. As I pass through reminiscent of my grade 3 classroom my muscles slowly warm up from the extra strain. The challenging incline of General Hospital to the calm level roads in front of the AKG Centre(the nerve centre of the ruling Communist party of Kerala) is quite a relief. As I turn right from the roundabout in front of Kerala University I am reminded of my Engineering days(I graduated from this very University). Into the Underpass (an engineering marvel back on its day) towards  Bakery junction. A sharp left before the RBI building into a steep incline passing through to the  Nandavanam Police Camp and Excise Commissioner’s Office. As lactic acid builds into your aching muscles you reach the Museum Police Station. You just want to rest your legs as you just glide down to Vellayambalam and take a left .

As you cycle through the tree lined avenues creating a canopy for the tired souls along Vellayamblam Kowdiar route slowly you are able to catch your breath. The enormity of the Raj Bhavan hits you when it takes a bit of time to traverse its length.I have travelled so many times through this road but have never seen the neatly trimmed grass forming the shape of 2 elephants along with the words”Raj Bhavan”. For a brief period of time there were some brick installations exhibited in that very stretch which were put up to mark the birth centenary of renowned British born Indian Architect Laurie baker .Art is definitely an integral part of this city. One day I saw a battered superbike in the footpath that presented a stark reminder of a high speed crash the previous night. It has to be noted that the Vellaymabalam-Kowdiar stretch is also a preferred spot for racing stunts. Taking a left from Kowdiar Junction passing through the new foodie stretch lined up with a number of eateries into Marappalam which opens into the Plammodu Junction.Taking a right from  Plammodu junction towards Gowreeshapattom I reach Patoor via Vadayakkadu and Moolavilakam. This stretch opens a flood gate of memories for me.

One fine day when I was 11 years old or so I along with my younger brother who is in his KG disembarked from our school bus and were walking home. As we entered the house our mother asked him as to where his school bag was. He looked at me,I just shook my head and replied that he had left it in the bus. Till this day I still can’t find a reason as to what happened next. I grabbed my bicycle not the one that I have described here but rather the small one that my Dad got for me when I was in Gwalior. I tried to chase down the school bus in my cycle, can you believe that? I don’t know what I was thinking. I remember going through the school diary to try to understand as to what route the bus was taking. It so happened that the bus was taking a longer route and was going round and round in an area not far from my home. I cycled furiously to Patoor Junction only to see in the distance the taillights of the bus disappearing. I didn’t lose hope and still gave chase, as I had said earlier the bus was going round and round in an effort to drop maximum number of students thereby covering a very small distance.To cut a long story short as the bus had completed dropping everyone I ran up to the bus conductor totally out of breath telling him that I need to get a bag. I was panting like hell when I raced into the bus to retrieve the prized possession of the bag. Even today when I cycle through the Vadayacadu-Moolavilakam Patoor stretch I have goosebumps reliving this experience.

Finally from Patoor Junction I take a right towards Pettah and again take a side road to Ambalathumukku junction and finally my home. A journey of  close to 13 kms in little under an hour on a slow lane will give you a totally different perspective of life when you complete it.

Moving on it also gave me a chance to step back and analyze what has changed in the city I grew up in. Due to the heavy traffic I couldn’t use the same route for cycling which I used in my college days. Technopark(an IT Park) in the city had changed the face of the city. There is a very high number of Software professionals from the length and breadth of the country based in TVM. The movie theatres that I used to frequent had totally changed and would give a run for its money to any multiplex that I have visited in Mumbai. I also happened to witness the opening of the first mall in TVM with much fanfare. As any other growing city TVM is also grappling with traffic woes. Last but not the least the it has become extremely hot in TVM. The temperature definitely has shot up by a few notches from the time I have lived there.

P.S: Fast forward 2021 we are in the midst of a pandemic. Most of us are in TVM we meet at badminton courts on a daily basis in the mornings. Understandably I am too lazy to go play my excuse being I would much rather go cycling for my cardio rather than making a fool of myself because let us face it I suck in the game. For the record I don’t cycle from a fitness perspective but to satiate my need of going back in time and being the boy of 12 whose most prized possession was this very cycle. Fitness is for the heartless freaks ,romantics like me would choose nostalgia any day over sweating it out in the gym.

To read more School meet ups in transition

 

 

An Epic Road Trip-Part 2

Jude was a bit reluctant and argued with them to let us go because we were already very much behind schedule but the Police were reluctant to let us go. What made them suspicious was that we didn’t have any luggage for such a long journey. SK was going to Trivandrum only for the weekend so he didn’t have much luggage with him. Both me and Arun just had a small bag with our clothes. They felt that something somewhere didn’t add up. Arun was wearing a black Lungi and Superman T-shirt. Jude and myself were in our slacks which didn’t give an impression that we were on a road trip. SK was the only guy who was properly dressed. Finally I had to call up a friend of mine from my IAS coaching days in Delhi who was currently an I.P.S officer in Karnataka to let us carry on with our journey without any further delay.

We decided to take it slow so as to get over the harrowing experience and stopped the car to get some tender coconut water. Arun struck up a conversation with the Lorry driver and even got him tender coconuts to be allowed to take some photographs in his Lorry.

 
  

  

Finally in the evening we reached Bangalore. Our dear friend Rakesh a top notch lawyer came to us with food to show his support and wish me luck. We saved a lot of time because of this and were off to Cochin driving through the night. As a matter of fact we had covered close to 1500 kms in little above 24 hours. In the wee hours of Sunday as they dropped me off at my Uncle’s place in Cochin it was a job well done and would later go on to be known as “The Cochin Job” in the lines of the Italian Job.

On the way back there was just one driver Jude and gradually the arduous journey started to take a toll on him. Now for the uninitiated it has to be noted that Arun hardly knew driving at that point of time and didn’t even have a driving license. The Lawyer who got 3 of us to undertake this crazy journey decided to try his luck to persuade Arun to take up the wheel for some time so that he could rest. Moreover, there was a 200 km 4 lane stretch ahead.

  

Understandably Arun was fast asleep, slowly Jude parked the car to the side of the road and woke up Arun . With a fair bit of coaxing and cajoling Jude managed to convince Arun to take up the driver’s seat .Jude in the meantime was cheeky enough to hand over the steering wheel to him and go to sleep for a considerable amount of time.

At one of the Toll Plazas in between, 2 men requested for a lift to Mumbai. The men said that you need not pay the toll tax all the way till Mumbai courtesy because of them. Jude and Arun were perplexed , firstly these guys could be anybody and secondly they couldn’t make up their mind to trust those guys on the road. The hitch hikers turned out to be Army Jawans who were stationed in Lebanon as part of the International Peace Keeping Force. At every toll plaza once they show their ID cards they are allowed free transit. They had come to their respective native places and were returning to Mumbai for their onward flight to Delhi where they were supposed to report. They began narrating their experiences in Africa and slowly Jude and Arun warmed up to them.  Incidentally one of them was a military truck driver, Jude promptly handed over the Steering wheel to him and went off to sleep again with Arun on the watch.

The travelling party reached Mumbai as a new week dawned over the horizon they were dead tired but their minds buzzing. After dropping off the Armymen in the airport they picked up Shilpa who drove them over for an early morning breakfast to a restaurant overlooking the sea. As the couple were gazing into the sea Jude was contemplating as to what was in store for his brother. This was first among his many long distance drives from Mumbai. Jude had undertaken a total of 3 road trips from Mumbai to Trivandrum out of which two were solo and one in a Tata Nano.

As for me the meeting with the girl did not yield a positive result and I lived to fight another day. My mom who had come to Cochin was delighted to know that her younger son and friends pulled out such a coup d’etat. But equally angry because Jude didn’t meet her and say hello to her after travelling such a long distance. Till date SK’s wife doesn’t know the real reason as to why many years back her husband reached for Lunch on that Vishu day and took his flight back to Mumbai after a couple of hours

Years later Jude was having a bad day as a Corporate Lawyer trying to close a deal with an important client. He took a breather and went out for a smoke at that instant he gets a call from Arun who was in Dubai informing him that he had just cleared the UAE driving test and expressed his sincere gratitude to his first driving guru.  Ambrose reminisced “ If I can get those 3 jokers to undertake the crazy trip in a car for close to 56 hours nonstop, covering four state of Maharashtra, Karnataka, Tamil Nadu and Kerala along the way I can very well convince anybody”. He took a deep breath and walked back in to the boardroom to clinch the deal. As for the 3 jokers they realized that Engineering was not their calling and thankfully moved into Managerial Roles. 

At the end of it when I look back that slip of the tongue from Jude where he said that we could go from Mumbai to Cochin and come back within flat 20 hours turned out to be one of the most badass moments in my life. This trip will be the gold standard to which all later trips were compared to.I have often come across instances where after days of planning when we finally undertake a trip it wouldn’t be that great. Most often than not the trips that come out of the spontaneous decisions turn out to be absolutely exhilarating and liberating to a great extent. You just let your spirit soar into the unknown and the rest will be history. The experiences that we have in these kind of scenarios are totally out of the world.  In a nutshell “Great memories are made of impromptu outrageous experiences”.

 Friendship is the one of the vital keystones in a person's life, true friendship overcomes distance, time and what not .Myself, Sreekumar and Arun have known each other for more than 25 years now. We first met at Holy Angels Convent School, Trivandrum during the course of our Primary Schooling then went on to study in Loyola School as well. It also helped that we lived nearby during that point of time in our lives until we completed our graduation. Post that we haven’t been in close contact much because life had taken us all in 3 different locations for many many years. Even today all 3 of us live in 3 different cities but still we manage to keep touch .But true friendships overcome distance, time and what not. It only takes time and a little effort to nurture friendships into something truly special. Come the hour and the men delivered, Period.  

  

If you ask me, one has lived a rich and fruitful life if you are able to tell stories such as these to everyone around you. An experience need not cause an impact at that moment of time but years later when you look back at the memory that is the moment when nostalgia hits you. This trip was undertaken by me and my friends 4 years ago but even today this tale has been told and retold in the countless get-togethers we have been to. That is precisely the reason why I wanted to put this on the record so that this memory does not get lost in course of time.

P.S:- For the travel junkies who are wondering as to which route we took.

Mumbai-Pune-Satara-Kolhapur-Belgaum-Hubli-Davangere-Chitradurga-Tumkur-Bangalore-Hosur-Krishnagiri-Dharmapuri-Salem-Erode-Palakkad-Thrissur-Cochin

The End

With inputs from Ambrose Jude, Sreekumar and Arun Sudheendran

  
Click here for Part 1