Memoirs of Miami – Revisited

Posting these so that Miami junta can recollect the good times.
Feel free to remind me about more folks,I’ll add them.

Time : sometime in 2000 Fall

The place: #610, Fontainebleau Milton – Miami, the home of us Magnificent Seven.
Always the place for the crowd to hang out, partly because we had all the gizmo
(29 inch TV, DVD, VCR, Cable TV, yes with Playboy, plushy sofas weaned from the
departing, stacks of movies, old and new in English and Hindi, a CD Player, a 3 bedroom with lots of space to doze, fridge usually stacked with booze of all types, lots of junk food and last but not the least, the chef, yours truly, always willing to churn out something for the hungry dogs.. Always being lured by false promises to cook for the imbeciles, grrr…)


Around 12 of us( ya, that’s how they used to flock) are tucking into my just hot out of the stove BisiBeleBath, garnished with chips, garlic ranch (yeek, these weirdos), raitha and Curd rice. We have just returned from Tennis and Basket Ball and are famished.Watching Friends on TV, the mood is raucous.

In walks Poorni, the new Tam frm Blore. Still has the Tam drawl though when speaking English. She picks up a plate, pours herself BBath and tastes it. “ Sakath aagide kano Mukunda, nam amma kooda hinge maadalla”…. Its been a tough first sem for them and they cant cook for nuts at their home. 5 girls, that too!

“Sari hoge, chenaag thinnu and nim amma ge tuition togolakke helu nan hatra.” !
She’s always teased and ridiculed. Imagine, she cooked sambhar once with Channa
Dal. A butcher’s knife was needed to slice through and hand out portions of the dal
for the folks to eat with rice.. What fun.

She walks up to john, who at 31 is the oldest in the group.
“Are you tired, john”she asks innocently.
I can’t resist taking another dig that comes up from nowhere and say

“Why Poorni, are you looking for tired men now”).

It’s a sorta pj, but the whole house is doubled up with laughter, some choke on their food, some spit their drink… All in all, an unqualified success.! Not to mention, I am chased into my room and whacked with the pillow soundly.

Even to this day, whenever we bump into each other on chat, we recollect and laugh about it. Stupid Poorni. Stupid is what Stupid does says Forrest Gump.

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Rao from rural Andhra (the first name is too twisted to say) is the new temp boy just landed from India, in our house for a few days. These floating populace usually got on our nerves, but we used to hold up till they found some home. Plus, many would come and drop them off here. Swines!

Rao has got ready to attend his first day at school, even before any of us are vaguely awake. Dressed like the typical greenhorn-on-arrival from India, he’s in blazing formals and leather shoes and all ! We stare at him. Dude, its 90 Deg F out there and u’ll be roast turkey by the time u are out of this apt complex. Change into something easy!

But that’s not what caught our attention. Outside on the balcony (we lived on the 6th floor) someone’s tried to open the insect netting that is put up.

Rao is keen to let us know..

"Katte, I tried to open it to throw this banana skin out. I saw a canal running down below."

“You did what now!!!!?

“I ate a banana and wanted to throw the skin out”

And did you call the cows as well ? Its Vinu, my Bbay roomie. He’s besides himself with rage and just hates these type of newbies.

Sorry ?? says Rao. The cows, bhenchod, mathar***, did you call the cows so you could feed them the banana. Better, you could have jumped out too into the canal. Phuk, Phuk !! I’m half laughing, half angry yet.

Saale, thereko itna bhi commonsense nahi hai kya… There’s something called a Trash can where we put garbage. We don’t dump them on streets. Else, we get dumped out. Katte, why do u allow such guys in our house ?? Im calling the ISA grad rep and telling him about this and tell him to include it in the list of Donts when he sends out an email to the ppl coming from India. This is the pits!

“Oh, sorry I didn’t know” said Rao. Ya right, dikhead and if you had succeeded, we would have been out too, looking for a new place to live in. Get out of here!

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Arvind is the other new Andhra guy, luckily not in our house though, but the same complex. But he did enough to have the whole junta laughing.

He’s trying to call India and is the only guy at home.

He goes 91-1, and halts. Weird, there’s a voice urging him to report the scene of the incident, crime, accident whatever and any nearby landmark and help will be there soon.

Our dude is puzzled. He switches off and tries the number again.
91-1… same voice again, same rapid queries. Yem Ra idi maama??

He will try one more time; if it fails he’ll ask the folks after they return home.
9-1-1… “Please report your problem, be calm, someone will be there soon”!

He gives up, switches off and settles to doze on the sofa.

Within minutes, 3 fire trucks, a small platoon of police cars and medics
are screeching their way into our apartment complex and all eyes are on them
as they get down and rush up the stairs to the apt from where the call came.
They knock impatiently and take up position to break the door.
Arvind, the cool guy, opens the door and blinks at the scene in front of him.
“We got an emergency call from this place, whats the matter”

Emergency ?? Nothing, all ok. I am just sleeping, new from India.

Are you sure, didn’t you call for help ?? No sir, I didn’t.

The cops shake their head, they could have sworn that the operator said she got 3 calls from this apt ! They look around the house and go away, puzzled and all’s well at Fbleau again. In the evening, the news breaks out and the whole of the Indian junta are dumbstruck at this latest gaucherie by the newbie. What else can they add to the rule book!

Some of us suggest a Pied Piper for such folks!

Les Miserables

Thinking about Ajji for no reason (well, I just blogged her posthumously sometime back),
I am reminded of the values she espoused, of give,sacrifice and love.. What was it that drove her
to constantly do this ?? She had no formal education, she read no great philosophies,
yet with her vision rendered hazy by cataract, she would dash off at the slightest opportunity
across the streets with old clothes, money, food or whatever she managed to smuggle
under her bed and give it to the needy, if not atleast feed the cow across the street with rice and banana unfailingly!! She was truly remarkable and many in chamarajpet loved her as the cute lil adorable ajji.. Ditto, where she spent a lot of years in the US, endearing the neighbours,
the doctors and nurses alike !!

Im disturbed today abt such ppl who constantly stake their lives for the betterment, the safety of the others.. Whats in it for them.. Why dont I take up the gauntlet as well... will such a moment ever come..

Was Mother Teresa a Pariah at the Pew ?? Whats with Medha Patkar and the Narmada Bachao Andolan ?? Will she ever succeed amidst all the tripe that prevails in India....

Oh, not to forget all the soldiers who man the border, assembling veritable human bastions,
vanguarding our citadels, and fall prey continuously to the enemy's 'accidental' crossfire..
While we are ensconced and in pursuit of knowledge, opulence and potpourri.

Will there be a denouement ever with the feisty neighbours... Will the children of a lesser god ever get past the malaise that afflicts them on all fronts ever so often... If so, what role will they have to play.. Whats in it for me ! Why am I perturbed.. What a maze it can become..


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The Charge of the Light Brigade

Alfred, Lord Tennyson

1.
Half a league, half a league, Half a league onward,All in the valley of Death Rode the six hundred."Forward, the Light Brigade!"Charge for the guns!" he said:Into the valley of Death Rode the six hundred.

2.
"Forward, the Light Brigade!"Was there a man dismay'd?Not tho' the soldier knew Someone had blunder'd:Their's not to make reply,Their's not to reason why,Their's but to do and die:Into the valley of Death Rode the six hundred.

3.
Cannon to right of them,Cannon to left of them,Cannon in front of them Volley'd and thunder'd;Storm'd at with shot and shell,Boldly they rode and well,Into the jaws of Death,Into the mouth of Hell Rode the six hundred.

4.
Flash'd all their sabres bare,Flash'd as they turn'd in air,Sabring the gunners there,Charging an army, while All the world wonder'd:Plunged in the battery-smokeRight thro' the line they broke;Cossack and RussianReel'd from the sabre stroke Shatter'd and sunder'd.Then they rode back, but not Not the six hundred.

5.
Cannon to right of them,Cannon to left of them,Cannon behind them Volley'd and thunder'd;Storm'd at with shot and shell,While horse and hero fell,They that had fought so wellCame thro' the jaws of DeathBack from the mouth of Hell,All that was left of them, Left of six hundred.

6.
When can their glory fade?O the wild charge they made! All the world wondered.Honor the charge they made,Honor the Light Brigade, Noble six hundred.

Cricket at Tinni’s and Rendezvous at the Road.

Tinni’s school (pronounced as Tin-Nee) is a small, government educational institution located in the heart of Gandhi Bazaar/ Basavangudi. Under the aegis of the Lions club, it caters to the poorer section, functioning as a primary/middle class co-ed school. A considerable plot of land, more like in the shape of the number 4, within its premises is left for the children to mill around and play, eat their daily lunch and go about their school/extra –curricular activities with gay abandon. Of course, Tinni’s is a nickname that has caught on and come to stay for years!

After school hours, this piece of open real estate transforms itself into a priceless spot for the teenagers and above to indulge in their sporting activities, it being just about the right
size to indulge in a quick game of cricket, lagori, marble or at times even a tennis court!
Suffice it would be to say that the turf is hallowed and carries a lot of history and nostalgia on its side, so much so that when plans got underway to dig up the place and erect more buildings in that area, it was vehemently opposed by the young and old alike and the project successfully quelled. The orchestrated mutiny that brought about this moratorium was greeted with much cheer and the junta involved in it labeled as martyrs for the Greater Common Good of the sacrosanct soil. The vitality emanating from its premises is something to cherish and thrive, a mystical miasma which encompasses all those who flock to it and I have never tired of it since I was first introduced to it almost 15 years back by the achari brothers (read as Viji and Sanji), whose grandparents(hence deceased) and uncles reside right opposite the school.

Surveyor Street starts (or ends) bang opposite the school and the “road” or the “Baandhuanavara Beedhi” as we call it has been inhabited over the years by a motley group of people, quixotic in their own way, and unfailingly lending to the charm of this idyllic street. The genesis of our present day ‘gang’ of boys was here and we are now a tightly knit coterie, numbering around 20, most often more and have long since permeated that membrane or veneer of friendliness, where short lived pleasantries are exchanged and left at that. No, for we are much, much more than that now and to a man we live off and help each other and socialize as a group. Yet, familiarity breeds contempt as they say and the odd sparks do fly, but there’s always someone with a sagacious 3rd eye who would rise above the situation and placate the ruffled feathers. Only a few actually dwell in the road and the rest of us are from other nearby places, yet we meet at evenings after work and take turns at jibing each other or the passers-by, ogling at the fairer sex, tucking into chaat or “light tiffin” at the nearby hotels and usually retire at the stroke of 9 to the clap of 1,2, 3, Dismiss… Now, now I am just kidding on the last part ;)




Cricket at Tinni’s has always been a much look-forward-to affair and many an epic battle has been fought on the turf, wherein us boys divide ourselves into two teams and start of usually a 3 match series, 6 overs a side. The talent and class on display is nothing amateurish and there are players who have represented the state and the country in cricket, the most famous of them being my best buddy Vijay Bharadwaj, who has represented India/Karnataka in cricket. Given this talent pool, the contests are doubtless competitive, enthralling, with fortunes vacillating and tend to rest on a knife’s edge.

The charged up atmosphere brings about many spats amongst the two teams, unfailingly, and in younger days and years gone by, maiming and mutilation of the body parts was always a distinct possibility. Free flowing hostility is never far away and the vitriolic, colorful lingua franca would even make sailors or Captain Haddock, him of Tintin genre, proud. For us this is the Coliseum and it can’t get bigger than that. And to say that Cricket is called a Gentleman’s Game, why now!!

In the years gone by,(I can date back to 15 years easily, but the greats have been around longer ) we used to play daily, after returning from school/college, but had to bow to the passage of time and go by the dictate of the job –oriented life, a far cry from the chepekaayi college days, where we chose to be oblivious to structure, cheated on time, never went by the clock and reveled in the razzmatazz.

Now cricket is played on Sunday Evenings and all other general/public holidays and though the average age is hovering close to, if not, touched the 30 mark, and receding hair lines and increasing waist lines are an almost natural concomitant, what the guys lack in age and ability, they more that compensate for with spirit and give it all during those 2 hours..! And yet, almost magically, notwithstanding if the last match was bitterly contested, a lull sets in after the play and off the field things take a different turn. What transpired on the field of play is left at that and everyone makes a bee-line to the nearby SLV café to gorge on almost the entire menu they have on offer. Food for thought? Or is it satiating the war mongers? No one could care less, all they go by is the KISS (Keep it Simple Stupid) rule.

Here’s to the road boys then of Tinni’s and may their tribe flourish! Halleluiah !!

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As an afterthought, henceforth, I plan to document every Sunday’s session and save it for posterity. Also do a write up on all the boys and append a few pics. Lets go live comrades !!

An Eulogy to Ajji

This I have to reproduce.. I can never tire of reading it.. And it was written by Radhakrishna Uncle when dearest ajji passed away in June 2000.... 5 months after I left for US.. oh, how I wept at school and home alike at that time :((... We still miss you ajji, and try to emulate you
in whatever miniscule way we can, but we fail miserably.. !!
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Dear Bramhani,

Here is an attempt to express the inexplicable sense of gratitude &tribute to your mother:

Alas, one knows not a person as a person is, because of the vial of web of our own likes & dislikes. Few can cast aside their vial to see andto be seen as is. They are Godly people. They fear none and scare none. Amma was one such jewel; a treasure house of virtues clothed in simplicity. She was an embodiment of love, compassion and generosity. She was the rowing ambassador of friendship, cutting across the linguistic, cultural and class barriers. She was highly evolved and far advanced for our times. Her worldly innocence masked her spiritual wisdom. She lacked none in wits & humor. She healed her personal pain in the joy of service & care for others. She knew the secret to success is to go with the flow without being swept away. Her life is a living parable but her legacy is love. No one can forget the smile on her face that had no wrinkles of frown. She was a blessedsoul. Blessing indeed was she for all of us. She has left behind a treasure of values for us to reflect and to emulate. Blessed indeed are we to be her children inheriting her wealth of virtues. May we cherish her memories with joy and excitement and let us be greatful such a great soul walked this earth & lived in our midst.

I salute to that magnanimity, I revere that spirit and I prostrate tothat saint.

H.S.Radhakrishna

Goa -Of Dolphins, damsels and dumbasses..

Just writing this to chronicle recent events for a future read, not a typical blog I would say..
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Early Jan I went to Goa to meet up with Miami dosts Vinay D Souza and Nikhil Iyer and pursue my scuba certification as well, besides I hadnt met them for more than 2 years.
Both of them are frm Bbay, frm a very obscure place called Mulund, though they beg to differ and make tall claims to its prominence in Bbay. Much has been said and done about this amongst us and spats were common in Apt 610, FountaineBleau Milton, Miami and yet
no one concurred abt it.. A schism had set in with the Blore Boys making a mockery of Mulund and referring to them by the last 4 letters of that word. Battle Lines were always drawn and
many a boring night was whiled away, mocking at the mulundites. But they were/have been my best friends since we first met..

Nix happens to be one of the most savvy palghat iyers I have ever come across...
Suave and succinct, he is a great guy to get along with. The less said about his partner and my roomie for 2.5 years, Vinu, the better !! Here was a child who had probably leapfrogged into adulthood and was endlessly enamored by Video Games and WWF and the like ..
his childhood was fraught with misadventures I heard and he was a mocking bird :)
These two were frnds frm yeons though... hmm.. a conspiracy of the forces of nature ..

Katte or Katz was what everyone called me, nobody knew Mukund.. :(
After 2.5 years, Nix greeted me with the usual " Yo Katte, bolimagane, wassup " at Calangute Beach :) These guys get wind of the most imp words quickly and never let go.. !!
We on our part just let it pass. Well, we have lil choice, what ?

Accompanying Nix and Vinu on the tour was their frnd frm Bbay who they called bhiki..
It would not be far off the mark to say Bhiki was very much like Jason Biggs in American Pie,
a greenhorn and keen to test out his virility :).. But alas, Bhiki just lacked the wherewithal
to even make the right first moves.. Many were the chances that went abegging at the beaches and later at the clubs..

Nix summed it up nicely later :)) I quote below...

"being the quintessential lauda that he is, bhiki did not get laid. seriously, that guy will spend that night looking for his own lund even if the chick spreads herself before him begging for a good"stuffing". he should have smoked her like a cheap cigar, i say. instead he was
lollygagging all weekend driving around in a dumb scooty and checking out the scenery in goa. fucking dumbass." :))

On my part, I stuck to my task of getting my scuba diver license done with and what a joy it was .. Going to Grande Island on the boat, diving Suzy's Wreck, Lobster Cove, chasing away scorpion fish, hermit crabs and the like, being tagged by Angel fish, gazing silenty at schools of Sergeant Majors and the best part after surfacing and heading back to shore - watching the
Indo-Gangetic River Dolphins flip at whim in the open sea and dive ever so gracefully..

Goa rocks ! In the Winter though...

Insomnia

Its 5 am the day after Valentine and I can't sleep anymore. Stirred out of deep slumber, I am once again privileged to listen to the Bohemian Rhapsody that neighbour Gowda dishes out daily and unfailingly as he indulges in clearing his throat, cleaning his tongue and divesting himself of all the filth as he readies himself for another day at the Mysore Paper Mill.. Please Mr Gowda, can u stifle that a tad bit ?? We neednt be privy to your ablutions.
You needn't herald the morning for us in such a pompous manner, let gently come the dawn. Besides, we have the mullahs in the mosque already beseeching Allah and not to be outdone,the nearby Manjunatha temple has already sounded its symbals. Edellu Manjunatha !

Yday was Valentine... WTH is all the fuss about I wonder.
Just an excuse for some ppl to goof off with members of the other sex, for others to get laid,yet for others to propose, maybe dispose... Whatever, I could care less.

But what stood out as a surprise was the marked absence of the vigilante in Lalbagh yesterday evening. Where there always used to be a whistle blower to drive away mollycoddlers, there was none. It was as if the authorities too had decided to recant and call a moratorium to their daily ritual. And so, ppl( read as couples) in Red milled around, fervent, unmindful of the voyeurs, the monkeys in the trees and the ubiquitous dogs. If someone were to sing Lady In Red, it would have caused a riot :)

I strapped on my MD player again and set the volume to max. Bonnie Tyler starts out crooning " A Total eclipse of the Heart" and though I dont really patronize the song a lot, it serves to rev me up on the first lap as I start my jog. The next track is what I wait for with a lot of zeal and I never seem to tire of it... 4 mins into the jog, the track changes and Mark Knopfler's arguably greatest opus "Dire Straits" is simply to die for. If Sultans of Swing sets ur adrenaline pumping, Romeo and Juliet soothes whatever frayed nerves I would have had.. A classic rendition I say...
"All I want to do is kiss you through the bars of a rhyme, Juliet I would do the stars with you anytime"

Halfway around the lake, and the sun has set in.. Lalbagh is superb in twilight, serene and tranquil,and a far cry from the early morning jog I usually detest, where ppl are seemingly everywhere, and jostling for space. The lights are on and the reflections in the water make a pretty sight. Lake Placid. Its a good thing they have cleaned up the lake and stopped the Ganesha immersions here. What they resort to in the name of God !
Whats needed is a litany for Lalbagh.

The sprinkers are on and douse me with fine spray as I turn the corner for the last lap, as if urging me on to complete the run.. Viji always says " Just when u reach break point, u need to gun on, unmindful of the body's beseeching, maybe disdainful even.. " I am aiming for the runner's high here, where the state of mind is such that it solely dictates everything and u tire only when it tires.. Need to up the ante..Phew 40 mins, thats a new one. Run Forrest, Run!
I couldnt have done it though without the music I feel. Eye of the Tiger and Peter Frampton, Men from Down Under, Eric Clapton, CCR, Led Zep, Cat Stevens,Beatles, Hungry Eyes (where Patrick Swayze and Jennifer Grey create celluloid magic in Dirty Dancing) the list goes on..

Gazing out at the lake, there's something with the finite aspect of the lake that I relate to. Solitude is nice, soliloquy usually is not far behind. Hakuna Matata, what a wonderful phrase.

" And the waitress is practising politics,
As the businessman slowly gets stoned,
They are sharing a dream called loneliness,
But Its better than drinking alone "

"Father Mckenzie, writing the words of a sermon that no one will hear, what does he care, All the Lonely People, where do they come from."

In the Occidental, there is something to loneliness thats always been a feature.Perhaps thats why they belt out these numbers.. and get stoned, attend rehab, file for divorce, smoke weed, pay alimony, hire lawyers et al..

I'll take India anyday.. As They say, " Come to India ,1 billion people can't be wrong' :)

So much so for a first blog.. For the uninitiated, its a novelty. What a cliche,that...!

A First Foray

I should write more soon. Carpe Diem