Saturday, August 28, 2010

The tale of 3 cities

It has been over 45 days since I sat down to key in my thoughts that rattle me. And finally here I am opening my heart, mind and laptop (seat belt sign was just switched off) flying at 30,000+ft over the “Maximum city”. I specifically asked for a window seat to enjoy the visual treat the city has to offer.

It is monsoon time in Mumbai and I would rather focus on greenery in city and on its buildings (thanks to abundant monsoon) than rant about the bumpy ride on city roads and tarmac. The sprawling yet densely populated city and crawling traffic, Marathi name boards makes Mumbai both motherly and mesmerizing. The spirit of Mumbai never simmers!

Dark grey clouds below my legs and deep blue ocean below the colored clouds with no visible trace of oil spill. It only made media houses look like “barking dogs”. They rightly call this city as the maximum city, both people and the city have maximum patience and resilience to deal with terror, media, politicians, and bollywood (in the same order)- tested, proved and trusted!

By the way I love the way Tamilians speak “Tamil” in this city with Oos and aas that comes with agmark “Kerala stamp”. Thanks to the “Palaghat Iyer” community who made this city their home many decades ago and changed to “Aiyers” and created new Tamil dialect. Hope Kamalhassan would do a movie with “Mumbai Tamil”.

I was in the Capital city 2 weeks back. From the air the city looked hazy not from the clouds, but from the dust. Delhi in winter is blanketed in fog and during other times it is covered with dust. Clear visibility both from air and on ground is rare occurrence amidst the CNG drive. Coming back to the dust, is it from pollution and not from political and corruption, crumbling CWG venue completion deadlines or the smog created by the media? Not sure how Delhiites are reacting, but definitely Yamuna is rising!

Connaught place (CP) has a lot of story to tell, both from now and then. Did you know that Pandavas had built 5 temples around the city and the famous Hanumanji Mandir in CP is one of them? Today CP looks like “Ashok Vanam”. Everything is uprooted, ugly and chaotic. Is it the Hanuman or Sita who is responsible for Ashoka Vanam? Thanks to Sheila Dikshit, the Sita of Delhi.

I must confess that I love riding Delhi’s Metro Rail, this is Sreedharan’s “Streedhaan” to Dehliites! But definitely the notorious “blue line busses” are asuras.

From the Capital city now I have managed to come down South to the retirement city. Bangalore is the third city I am visiting in 2 weeks. The mileage on me is making me feel sick. I can’t even stand the sight of food trolley, they are more annoying and repulsive than standstill traffic. BTW, Jetlite crew in spiffy new uniforms is definitely wrapped up “Ferro Rochers”.

Bangalore, a sleepy retirement town has another tale to tell. The city from air looks like a semiconductor board with lots of green patches, a few vertical structures like transistors. In this IT city dreams are powered by generators, thanks to the power shortage. Power cuts, water shortage and never ending traffic woes; the city’s infrastructure is struggling to keep up with technology export and expansion. It took me 45mins to find an auto who would agree ply me from Outer ring road (a ghost town after sunset) at 6.30 PM to the city and should I complain about an hour that spent arrested in an auto in the middle of city?

PS: Distances in Bangalore are measured in hours not in kilometers. But nevertheless the Vayu Vajra and Volvo airconditioned busses that ply on the already air-conditioned city roads takes the city a step ahead of other metros.

While rest of the world is Banga”lured” I am not. Bangalore still makes nice filter coffee and curd rice though their sambars are annoyingly sweet.

Not sure if this falls under a confession or a complain category, it has been over 15days since I saw a sunrise and sunset and in particular since I broke sweat. I saw sun well above the clouds over 30,000 ft from pressurized cabin with controlled temperature. It looks plastic and didn’t feel warm. Where is the brisk and brusque weather? Are my sweat glands functioning now have I evolved or devolved? My cuffs, collars and hankies are still clean and I feel like living alive in an ice box.

Where is my Chennai? The hot, humid, and heavenly Chennai. The very thought of Chennai makes me nostalgic, my forehead wet and taste buds long Chennai flavor. Pavlovian theory certainly works! I’m sure you can see that! I arrived and I was right in time to celebrate her 371st birthday. Should I say I grew up with her or should I be arrogant and say she grew up with me? Nevertheless she is rarely hormonal (excuse 2006 Tsunami outburst) but her rope patience like the coast is long and looks never ending.

From the air all her ponds and reservoirs looks charged and the flora looks reasonably healthy. Thanks to the 100% excess South West monsoon. Well over the years she has definitely grown big, her curves and coastline keeping her young, attractive, suave and sexy. Yet rest of the country label her as orthodox, uninteresting, unhappening, conservative, despise her for the hot and humid weather and lack of sleaze but for those who’ve lived in Chennai despite the warm weather and water woes, the city is culturally stimulating, musically enthralling, spiritually uplifting, intellectually engrossing and safe. She has layers, she has colors but you need patience and to peel, perseverance to understand and discipline to discover Chennai.

Her brawn and beauty can never be ignored, just give her time and she will show you and grow on you. All said and done, none can recreate her signature filter coffee, curd rice garnished with narthangai (dried and slated lemon) and match the gossipy mallipoo loaded Mylapore mamis. That is what makes Chennai my home!

BTW, with state elections round the corner, will it be a rising Sun again or will it be a setting Sun? You need call Radio Mirchi’s “Pacchaikili Pacchaiamma”.

Folks, it is time to go home empty my suitcase and not worry about tales of cities, rising and setting sun and bitch about traffic woes. It is time for my curd rice before I start sorting my bills and fill in my expense report.

BTW, why do most people open their seat belts, switch on their mobiles and open the overhead bins before the flight comes to complete halt? This seems to be common behavior across all cities.

Ok the seat belt sign is on and I hear the Captain over the PA system. There is no price or excuse when it comes to safety and security, I have to go now.
Don’t worry I will come back to complete my travel stories from Sikkim and Leh. You can come back for more tales!

Until then India is incredible, incorrigible and indelible. Explore her and discover yourself.