Its a rat race out here. And you are a part of it whether you want to accept it or not.
If you are a small electronics shop owner by the street, with no big brand backing you, you'd probably relate to this incident. But it simply left me speechless.
I walk into a store marked Nokia Priority Dealer, to replace my almost dead phone batteries. The man at the counter certainly knew his business and one look at my phone and he says "Battery badalna padega!!", confirming my suspicion. The Original Nokia battery replacement would come to Rs 750 he said. So then i asked for the cheapest, most basic handset that i could get and apparently i could get handsets for nearly Rs 1200.
Following my line of thought, the man said "Saab yeh handset kaafi accha hai! Aap Battery badal lo". I could get local batteries that would do the job, just for Rs 200, he said. He also went on to point me to the shop next door, where i could get the local batteries.
Thanking him for his help, I proceeded to the shop next door to see if that indeed was an option. A boy sat at the counter, and once i explained my problem to him, he said he'll be right back. A few minutes later, the man from the first store (the Nokia priority dealer, who had redirected me here) walked in. In one swift motion he slid across the counter. Without batting an eyelid, in the most solemn tone asked me "kya Problem hai sir". I was speechless. He did not even pretend that he had seen me a few minutes earlier. In his now familiar solemn voice, he went to explain that i needed a battery replacement!!.
Well!! You have to do what you have to do to survive. But this was the best i have seen. Certainly an "it happens only in india moment!!"
Showing posts with label Jest a thought. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Jest a thought. Show all posts
Sunday, March 23, 2008
Thursday, March 20, 2008
It Happens Only In India
India.. the land of mystics, the land of yoga, the land of meditation..
If this is the india you have read about and find intriguing, all you need to do is step onto one of our roads. In that single act you will have thrown yourself into the depths of indian mysticism, yoga and meditation...
After all after being thrown into the deep end of a pool, you have no choice but to learn how to swim.
Step onto an indian road and you would have learnt your first few lessons in Yoga. Ofcourse if you had bigger plans, it requires knowledge of extreme asanas and flexibility to navigate through the traffic on foot or a two wheeler. It is not surprising then that Yoga is given such importance in our country. Ofcourse the art of meditation and breath control are extremely essential to survive on a long term basis.
During one such session of yoga and meditation, stuck in an autorickshaw at a signal in Bangalore, I witnessed an act of extreme creativity and brilliance.
Ater about ten minutes of meditation at the signal, my auto walla got his turn to cross the road. To my dismay however, the signal did not seem to apply to anyone else on the road and vehicles kept coming in all directions. This is when it all happened. I saw my autorickshaw walla slip his hand into his pocket. A couple of seconds later i heard a shrill whistle, that caused the traffic on all sides to pause for a sec thinking it was a cop. My autorickshaw ofcourse continued and managed to cross the signal. And then i saw my auto walla pocket the whistle very calmly and continue as if nothing had happened. He must have slipped back to his meditation.
But he had me in splits for the rest of my journey. I am sure he had no clue why i was laughing.
Well, I suppose this is why we love this place so much, despite all the problems we have. This happens only in India!!
If this is the india you have read about and find intriguing, all you need to do is step onto one of our roads. In that single act you will have thrown yourself into the depths of indian mysticism, yoga and meditation...
After all after being thrown into the deep end of a pool, you have no choice but to learn how to swim.
Step onto an indian road and you would have learnt your first few lessons in Yoga. Ofcourse if you had bigger plans, it requires knowledge of extreme asanas and flexibility to navigate through the traffic on foot or a two wheeler. It is not surprising then that Yoga is given such importance in our country. Ofcourse the art of meditation and breath control are extremely essential to survive on a long term basis.
During one such session of yoga and meditation, stuck in an autorickshaw at a signal in Bangalore, I witnessed an act of extreme creativity and brilliance.
Ater about ten minutes of meditation at the signal, my auto walla got his turn to cross the road. To my dismay however, the signal did not seem to apply to anyone else on the road and vehicles kept coming in all directions. This is when it all happened. I saw my autorickshaw walla slip his hand into his pocket. A couple of seconds later i heard a shrill whistle, that caused the traffic on all sides to pause for a sec thinking it was a cop. My autorickshaw ofcourse continued and managed to cross the signal. And then i saw my auto walla pocket the whistle very calmly and continue as if nothing had happened. He must have slipped back to his meditation.
But he had me in splits for the rest of my journey. I am sure he had no clue why i was laughing.
Well, I suppose this is why we love this place so much, despite all the problems we have. This happens only in India!!
Friday, October 27, 2006
A survivors tale : Funny, but True!!
This hilarious article was written by a Dutchman who spent two years in India, as a visiting expert. A little long article but makes interesting
reading!!!
For the benefit of every Tom, Dick and Harry visiting India and daring
to drive on Indian roads, I am offering a few hints for survival. They
are applicable to every place in India except Bihar, where life outside a vehicle is only marginally safer.
Indian road rules broadly operate within the domain of karma where you
do your best, and leave the results to your insurance company. The hints are as follows:
Do we drive on the left or right of the road? The answer is
"both".
Basically you start on the left of the road, unless it is occupied.
In that case, go to the right, unless that is also occupied. Then
proceed by occupying the next available gap, as in chess. Just trust
your instincts, ascertain the direction, and proceed. Adherence to road rules leads to much misery and occasional fatality. Most drivers don't drive, but just aim their vehicles in the generally intended direction.
Don't you get discouraged or underestimate yourself except for a belief in reincarnation; the other drivers are not in any better position. Don't stop at pedestrian crossings just because some fool wants to cross the road. You may do so only if you enjoy being bumped in the back.
Pedestrians have been strictly instructed to cross only when traffic is moving slowly or has come to a dead stop because some minister is in town. Still some idiot may try to wade across, but then, let us not talk ill of the dead.
Blowing your horn is not a sign of protest as in some countries. We horn to express joy, resentment, frustration, romance and bare lust (two brisk blasts),or just mobilize a dozing cow in the middle of the bazaar.
Keep informative books in the glove compartment. You may read them
during traf fic jams, while awaiting the chief minister's motorcade, or waiting for the rainwater to recede when over ground traffic meets
underground drainage.
Occasionally you might see what looks like a UFO with blinking colored
lights and weird sounds emanating from within. This is an illuminated
bus, full of happy pilgrims singing bhajans. These pilgrims go at
breakneck speed, seeking contact with the Almighty, often meeting with
success.
Auto Rickshaw (Baby Taxi): The result of a collision between a rickshaw and an automobile, this three-wheeled vehicle works on an external combustion engine that runs on a mixture of kerosene oil and creosote. This triangular vehicle carries iron rods, gas cylinders or passengers three times its weight and dimension, at an unspecified fare. After careful geometric calculations, children are folded and packed into these auto rickshaws until some children in the periphery are not in contact with the vehicle at all. Then their school bags are pushed into the microscopic gaps all round so those minor collisions with other vehicles on the road cause no permanent damage. Of course, the peripheral children are charged half the fare and also learn Newton's laws of motion enroute to school. Auto-rickshaw drivers follow the road rules depicted in the film Ben
Hur, and are licensed to irritate.
Mopeds: The moped looks like an oil tin on wheels and makes noise like
an electric shaver. It runs 30 miles on a teaspoon of petrol and travels at break-bottom speed. As the sides of the road are too rough for a ride, the moped drivers tend to drive in the middle of the road; they would rather drive under heavier vehicles instead of around them and are often "mopped" off the tarmac.
Leaning Tower of Passes: Most bus passengers are given free passes and
during rush hours, there is absolute mayhem. There are passengers
hanging off other passengers, who in turn hang off the railings and the overloaded bus leans dangerously, defying laws of gravity but obeying laws of surface tension. As drivers get paid for overload (so many Rupees per kg of passenger), no questions are ever asked. Steer clear of these buses by a width of three passengers.
One-way Street: These boards are put up by traffic people to add jest in their otherwise drab lives. Don't stick to the literal meaning and
proceed in one direction. In metaphysical terms, it means that you
cannot proceed in two directions at once. So drive as you like, in
reverse throughout, if you are the fussy type. Least I sound
hypercritical; I must add a positive point also. Rash and fast driving
in residential areas has been prevented by providing a "speed breaker"; two for each house. This mound, incidentally, covers the water and drainage pipes for that residence and is left untarred for easy identification by the corporation authorities, should they want to recover the pipe for year-end accounting.
Night driving on Indian roads can be an exhilarating experience for
those with the mental make up of Genghis Khan. In a way, it is like
playing Russian roulette, because you do not know who amongst the
drivers is loaded.
What looks like premature dawn on the horizon turns out to be a truck
attempting a speed record. On encountering it, just pull partly into the field adjoining the road until the phenomenon passes.
Our roads do not have shoulders, but occasional boulders. Do not blink
your lights expecting reciprocation. The only dim thing in the truck is the driver, and with the peg of illicit arrack (alcohol) he has had at the last stop, his total cerebral functions add up to little more than a naught.
Truck drivers are the James Bonds of India, and are licensed to kill.
Often you may encounter a single powerful beam of light about six feet
above the ground. This is not a super motorbike, but a truck approaching you with a single light on, usually the le ft one. It could be the right one, but never get too close to investigate. You may prove your point posthumously.
reading!!!
For the benefit of every Tom, Dick and Harry visiting India and daring
to drive on Indian roads, I am offering a few hints for survival. They
are applicable to every place in India except Bihar, where life outside a vehicle is only marginally safer.
Indian road rules broadly operate within the domain of karma where you
do your best, and leave the results to your insurance company. The hints are as follows:
Do we drive on the left or right of the road? The answer is
"both".
Basically you start on the left of the road, unless it is occupied.
In that case, go to the right, unless that is also occupied. Then
proceed by occupying the next available gap, as in chess. Just trust
your instincts, ascertain the direction, and proceed. Adherence to road rules leads to much misery and occasional fatality. Most drivers don't drive, but just aim their vehicles in the generally intended direction.
Don't you get discouraged or underestimate yourself except for a belief in reincarnation; the other drivers are not in any better position. Don't stop at pedestrian crossings just because some fool wants to cross the road. You may do so only if you enjoy being bumped in the back.
Pedestrians have been strictly instructed to cross only when traffic is moving slowly or has come to a dead stop because some minister is in town. Still some idiot may try to wade across, but then, let us not talk ill of the dead.
Blowing your horn is not a sign of protest as in some countries. We horn to express joy, resentment, frustration, romance and bare lust (two brisk blasts),or just mobilize a dozing cow in the middle of the bazaar.
Keep informative books in the glove compartment. You may read them
during traf fic jams, while awaiting the chief minister's motorcade, or waiting for the rainwater to recede when over ground traffic meets
underground drainage.
Occasionally you might see what looks like a UFO with blinking colored
lights and weird sounds emanating from within. This is an illuminated
bus, full of happy pilgrims singing bhajans. These pilgrims go at
breakneck speed, seeking contact with the Almighty, often meeting with
success.
Auto Rickshaw (Baby Taxi): The result of a collision between a rickshaw and an automobile, this three-wheeled vehicle works on an external combustion engine that runs on a mixture of kerosene oil and creosote. This triangular vehicle carries iron rods, gas cylinders or passengers three times its weight and dimension, at an unspecified fare. After careful geometric calculations, children are folded and packed into these auto rickshaws until some children in the periphery are not in contact with the vehicle at all. Then their school bags are pushed into the microscopic gaps all round so those minor collisions with other vehicles on the road cause no permanent damage. Of course, the peripheral children are charged half the fare and also learn Newton's laws of motion enroute to school. Auto-rickshaw drivers follow the road rules depicted in the film Ben
Hur, and are licensed to irritate.
Mopeds: The moped looks like an oil tin on wheels and makes noise like
an electric shaver. It runs 30 miles on a teaspoon of petrol and travels at break-bottom speed. As the sides of the road are too rough for a ride, the moped drivers tend to drive in the middle of the road; they would rather drive under heavier vehicles instead of around them and are often "mopped" off the tarmac.
Leaning Tower of Passes: Most bus passengers are given free passes and
during rush hours, there is absolute mayhem. There are passengers
hanging off other passengers, who in turn hang off the railings and the overloaded bus leans dangerously, defying laws of gravity but obeying laws of surface tension. As drivers get paid for overload (so many Rupees per kg of passenger), no questions are ever asked. Steer clear of these buses by a width of three passengers.
One-way Street: These boards are put up by traffic people to add jest in their otherwise drab lives. Don't stick to the literal meaning and
proceed in one direction. In metaphysical terms, it means that you
cannot proceed in two directions at once. So drive as you like, in
reverse throughout, if you are the fussy type. Least I sound
hypercritical; I must add a positive point also. Rash and fast driving
in residential areas has been prevented by providing a "speed breaker"; two for each house. This mound, incidentally, covers the water and drainage pipes for that residence and is left untarred for easy identification by the corporation authorities, should they want to recover the pipe for year-end accounting.
Night driving on Indian roads can be an exhilarating experience for
those with the mental make up of Genghis Khan. In a way, it is like
playing Russian roulette, because you do not know who amongst the
drivers is loaded.
What looks like premature dawn on the horizon turns out to be a truck
attempting a speed record. On encountering it, just pull partly into the field adjoining the road until the phenomenon passes.
Our roads do not have shoulders, but occasional boulders. Do not blink
your lights expecting reciprocation. The only dim thing in the truck is the driver, and with the peg of illicit arrack (alcohol) he has had at the last stop, his total cerebral functions add up to little more than a naught.
Truck drivers are the James Bonds of India, and are licensed to kill.
Often you may encounter a single powerful beam of light about six feet
above the ground. This is not a super motorbike, but a truck approaching you with a single light on, usually the le ft one. It could be the right one, but never get too close to investigate. You may prove your point posthumously.
Tuesday, March 08, 2005
Horny Indians
I miss the krrrrrrrrrrrr from the autos, trrrng trrrng from the cycles, Pom Pom from the buses, peeeeeeah peeeeeah from the cars and various other varieties of horns and expletives that resonate in Indian roads. Be it men, women, kids , young or old, not a soul hesitates to use the horn. Not without a reason though. You would feel absolutely incapacitated without a horn in your vehicle. I mean, just imagine!!!
I guess its tough to imagine. Just as it would be for an Aussie to imagine someone honking at them for no apparent reason. A horn is the most unlikely thing you’d hear on the roads here. To get honked at is akin to being sworn at.
As far as India is concerned, the ‘People’ factor does inject itself everywhere. Here, Time, Tide and People wait for none. So use the horn and make way for yourself!!
After all rules are meant to be broken and horns are meant to be honked.
I guess its tough to imagine. Just as it would be for an Aussie to imagine someone honking at them for no apparent reason. A horn is the most unlikely thing you’d hear on the roads here. To get honked at is akin to being sworn at.
As far as India is concerned, the ‘People’ factor does inject itself everywhere. Here, Time, Tide and People wait for none. So use the horn and make way for yourself!!
After all rules are meant to be broken and horns are meant to be honked.
Wednesday, October 27, 2004
Gastronomical De-Lite
The IT industry as a whole seems to be making a very conscious effort to contribute to the calorie levels of its employees. “Employee Growth” is being taken care of in every sense of the phrase.
Pssst…. If anyone is in the Office Furniture business, armless chairs are going to be the next super sellers. It is only natural that the comfort needs of employees are satisfied along with supporting their growth.
Like every other occasion, which is celebrated without fail, today too was celebrated. Ofcourse, when there is free food, who the hell cares what for? Anyways it was called Karavali Parba. It’s a traditional festival in Karnataka, they said. Starting of from a state of “delicate incertitude”, I have now attained the state of “Strong Suspicion” about the actual existence of any such festival. Power searches in google did not yield any fruitful results. But as they say, as long as its fun, who cares?
An enthusiastic start to a very traditional lunch on a plantain leaf was soon to become a concerted attempt at emptying the leaf. We had grossly underestimated our traditional meals. What saved us was a timely announcement by one of the organizers where he detailed the variouses courses in the meal. I don’t think I registered that entire list. But I remember, that he went on for quite some time.
Well it was certainly a Gastronomical Delight that was indeed also “De – Lite”.
What is scary, are the Olfactory Delights that lie in store in the air conditioned office interiors… Who says Art of Living and Meditation are not useful or practical???
Pssst…. If anyone is in the Office Furniture business, armless chairs are going to be the next super sellers. It is only natural that the comfort needs of employees are satisfied along with supporting their growth.
Like every other occasion, which is celebrated without fail, today too was celebrated. Ofcourse, when there is free food, who the hell cares what for? Anyways it was called Karavali Parba. It’s a traditional festival in Karnataka, they said. Starting of from a state of “delicate incertitude”, I have now attained the state of “Strong Suspicion” about the actual existence of any such festival. Power searches in google did not yield any fruitful results. But as they say, as long as its fun, who cares?
An enthusiastic start to a very traditional lunch on a plantain leaf was soon to become a concerted attempt at emptying the leaf. We had grossly underestimated our traditional meals. What saved us was a timely announcement by one of the organizers where he detailed the variouses courses in the meal. I don’t think I registered that entire list. But I remember, that he went on for quite some time.
Well it was certainly a Gastronomical Delight that was indeed also “De – Lite”.
What is scary, are the Olfactory Delights that lie in store in the air conditioned office interiors… Who says Art of Living and Meditation are not useful or practical???
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