I walk down dark and narrow streets
Some photographs that attempt to describe urban Indian streets at night.
Tio Tentacao
A new cafe/restaurant I discovered at Auroville last Sunday is called Tio Tentacao - as far as I discovered it is portuguese for "uncle temptation." The menu is varied, from African food and pizza's to pasta. We arrived a bit late though, almost ten pm - so there was nothing left but pizza's. Ten is quite late Auroville standards, most of the restaurants are shut and quite clearly everyone seems to be in bed. For a Mumbaikar like me who decides to have dinner by ten or eleven, its quite shocking. Entrance to Tio Tentacao:
The interiors are quite common, like all the terrace restaurants in and around Pondy, it has yellow lighting and a thatched roof. The Manchester United flag is an individual touch, though.
Smoking isn't allowed, but smoking the hookah is! Available in all flavours apple, peach, and pear :)
Glimpses of Green
I'm currently doing some design projects for a luxury leather brand, and their main factory is in Pondicherry. I absolutely love the green atmosphere: the back gardens have been left wild and overflowing, and there are little islands, ponds, waterways and pathways that overlap everything. As an office backyard its lovely, and inspiring.
Lotus's in bloom...
One of the wayward ducks that wander around the office garden. And no, we haven't named them yet :)
Matrimandir: Photo Essay
My earlier post was about the beurocracy at the Visitors Center, and how difficult it is to get to see the inside of the Matrimandir if you are tourist. Now that I've visited MatriMandir 5 times (parents-1, grandparents-2, friends-3, my first visit-4 and second visit-5); I think it's time for a photo essay, taking a look at what a touristy visit is all about. A picture of the golden dome Matrimandir from the viewing point:
A donation box with a sign in 4 languages: Tamil, English, French and Hindi.
Public not allowed beyond the hedges :)
An old banyan tree with hundreds of aerial roots, a nice way to take a break during the 1.5 km walk to Matrimandir.
Signage on the way to Matrimandir:
Beyond barbed wire, I spot large numbers of solar panels, for what or for whom is a mystery. Asking about it didn't help, obviously.
At the information center, a model of auroville which is built in the shape of a swirling galaxy with Matrimandir at its center.
A model of what the insides of the Matrimandir look like. A line of light falls into the crystal ball at the center.
More pictures of the information center, which attempt to explain auroville and the matrimandir.
Tightrope Walker at the beach
A young girl walks the tightrope by the beach in Pondicherry. Her brother plays the drums to attract spectators, while her parents sit by the side, looking on and waiting for donations from tourists and passers-by.
Another picture of her as she swings to the music, while walking across the rope.
Spectators gather around her:
A man selling colourful toy windmills also looks on.
My favourite Mumbai Cafe's
One of the few places to get good coffee in Mumbai is Cafe Madras. The signage at the entrance is clean, and hasn't changed for years and years. It's trademark filter coffee, quick service, affordable prices and typical dosa-idly menu help in maintaining its loyal customer following.
More signs at the entrance, and today's specials drawn on the chalk board below.
Yazdani Bakery is one of those old, forgotten Irani Cafe's that I really love. I feel really bad about these old Cafe's not doing so well anymore. You keep hearing that they are shutting down one by one. I plan to do more posts on these cafe's once I am in Mumbai again. I really appreciate the detail and individuality that goes into these cafe's, each has the owners touch, and the owner is right there to add to the authenticity and friendliness of the place.
Feel free to add your favourite Mumbai Cafe's :)
A Wedding Invite, Pondy Style
A local wedding invite found its way to my office desk a few weeks ago. I was totally fascinated by the visual mix of French Colonial, Catholic, Tamil, and Hindu, the perfect representation of what Pondicherry is all about. The cover is Hallmark, a floral cliche image, pink roses and the rest:
Page 1 goes back to one colour printing. It shows a colonial looking couple, with the white wedding dress and everything:
Note the cross at the top of the second page, and the couple putting garlands on each other near the bottom. Using flower garlands is an important ritual in a Hindu wedding, however it is used here as a symbol only.
A thali with an envelope, another illustration that decorates the wedding invitation.
Illustration detail - couple putting flower garlands on each other. I really love the detail here although it looks typical, the stark and simple lines make it stand out.
Illustrations by the Government
These are some illustrations painted on the walls by the streets advertising policies of the government. Most of it was in Tamil, but some of them were written in English too. What interested me was the way this was painted and coloured.
I can only guess what these are supposed to mean. This one below should be about educating women, because the girls are smiling and holding books.
This one is about taking care of the elderly, since money is being given it looks like welfare, but that is strange, because there is no welfare concept in India. Nobody gets it, really.
This is a picture of men and women working at a construction site. I don't know what policy this is trying to illustrate.
This is clearly about development and industrialization:
Urban Graphics
These is a series of photographs that attempt to describe the urban landscape around me from the past few months. I am always fascinated by the easy mix of urban and traditional, old and new, ugly and beautiful, traditional and contemporary. Tamil movie posters pasted on corrugated aluminium sheets line the streets of Chennai. It's a common sight across the country, but these have their special melodramatic charm!
Another poster, this time a strange pet show is being advertised. Note the barbed wire that I hadn't even noticed while taking the picture:
Early morning; women draw rangoli's in front of their home's: simple white lines.
Here rangoli has been painted using more permanent colours, outlining a special area for this bike's parking.
Detail:
The wall graphics below seem to advertise a plumber, but I've never seen this shop open. Love the detail of the water pump and flush.
The phone number is all scratched out.
A post box with old posters peeling off, layering over time.
We've covered, ads, movies, religion, and now posters on politics:
Decorative flowers floating in water, arranged in a pattern. This is common at several restaurants and hotels as a sign of welcome:
Rows of tiny magazines on a local newspaper stand:
I'll end with a cycle rickshaw! If you look really carefully you can see that the driver is fast asleep inside his rickshaw, a bit of his head is visible on the right hand side. Afternoon naps are very important in Pondicherry! :)
Diwali Day
You know Diwali is near when the smell of sulphur permeates everything, and the nights are filled with shouts and noisy firecrackers. On the day before Diwali everything had already gone into high gear, even in a small town like Pondicherry. The kids on my street started off the festivities the first thing in the morning, and by now the combined effect of every family in the area doing the same filled the tar roads with the little red remains of the crackers, and made your eyes burn with the pollution. And I had to catch my flight to Mumbai, because spending Diwali with family is what you're supposed to do. Not that my boss had given me leave - no way. I just had to take my half day anyway. The non-ac rented car that drove me to the airport had seats filled with golden glitter. I brushed off as much as I could before getting comfortable. But the thing about glitter is that it sticks to your hands, and hides in seat corners in the most annoying way. Clearly the previous occupants of the car were really in a festive mood. The traffic was crazy, and the highway was bustling. Everybody who was anybody seemed to be on the roads, or in their cars going somewhere.
My flight was delayed by 3 hours, so that was a total of seven hours of waiting. The first four hours driving to the airport, and the next three waiting for my flight to start boarding. I waited patiently with the other commuters from my flight. Everyone eyed each other's bag tags, checking if we were all on the same flight. I watched as hundreds of people got into their flights before me. I passed the time by memorizing the ceiling, consuming my iPod's battery, wandering around Chennai airport, reading a book, and calling everyone I knew who would pick up the phone at that time.
Taking off was beautiful because we flew over the city lights at night, and the firecrackers were going off across the city. It was a breathtaking sight, we were flying over them as they exploded, and they seemed to be bursting in synchronization, in all colors, green, red, blue, and white; and those little plain ones too, the ones that go off without a shower of sparks.
All the business people seated around me on the flight were already asleep, uninterested in the view. I wanted to wake everyone up and show them what they were missing. When would you be flying over Chennai city on the night of Diwali next? But I didn't, and enjoyed the view on my own.
Love Goa
I haven't been to Goa for a year now. I had sworn to myself that I would make the trip every year, but its already getting too close to the tourist season. Goa is really no fun in dec-jan, because of the insane number of tourists. No point going there when the crowd is all City-Mumbai-Delhi, the exact people you DON'T want to meet in Goa :) Some pics to give you a feel of the place, if you haven't been there:
Choose the catch of the day:
Cafe Central in Panjim, the best place for cakes, cookies and goodies:
Street, Panjim:
Entrance to Venite, a must-visit cafe in Panjim.
Unused loo in the middle of nowhere:
Colourful Graveyard: Photo Essay
I've always been curious about the local graveyard. Sometimes I see backpackers and tourists leave the place, carrying their bulky SLR's. So I finally made the time, and walked through it. It surprised me because it wasn't typical. Not that I've seen many graveyards. The only other time I've set foot in one is for a silly dare when I was a kid. Another time was when I was doing a design project near the border of Rajasthan in a village called Idar. I visited a very small Dargah there, deserted and locked away. Technically its not a graveyard, but its very similar in concept to a graveyard because it is burial ground.
Dussehra Cycle
Dussera is a festival celebrated in many forms. It's a celebration of the victory of good or evil, after nine days of Navratri. My grandmother tells me that Navratri is in honour of a nine day battle between a rakshas and a goddess (I've forgotten the names of both). At the end of the battle, the Goddess won, obviously, and we celebrate Dussera. It's also the day that effigies of Ravan are burned, again as a symbolic victory of Good over Evil. Though the only thing we do in my family, which I find most relevant, is the cleaning and worship of the tools of your trade. On this day people clean their houses, and their everyday working tools such as their computers, vehicles, typewriters, kitchens, etc. It is a day for remembering and respecting the tools that help in earning your livelihood. I enjoy doing this, and respecting my laptop comes very naturally since I would definitely die without it :)
A picture of a well decorated cycle; even a week after Dussera, most of the decorations are still visible in and around Pondicherry:
Lhasa: Tibetan Food
A Tibetan food place called Lhasa in Auroville was my Sunday lunch. I've really missed Tibetan food since I've come to Pondicherry. I love momo's and thukpa. Its quite easy to get in Ahmadabad because a group of nomadic Tibetan refugees travel there every winter, setting up shop for about 6 months. They sell woolens, and put up little diners next to their homes so that broke students can get a good, warm meal for 20 Rs. In Pondy, its difficult to find. The only two Tibetan places that do exist are in Auroville, which is too far from town for everyday eating. The momo's are good in Lhasa, but I don't know if they serve authentic Thukpa (noodle soup with mince meat and vegetables). A photo of the place, with a picture of the Dalai Lama framed at the center of the table:
Entrance to the restaurant:
Here you can see a pic of the Tibetan flag, and an aquarium:
Entrance to the kitchen and the back of the house:
Once the food came, I was too busy eating, so no pics of the food. Next time I'll definitely put up pics of that :)
Modified Bike
A modified bike that caught my eye when I was travelling around Lucknow. It was probably being used for food delivery.
a shared rikshaw conversation
It was 10:15 pm, and a friend and me were wandering around Pondy looking for a rickshaw so we could get home. The first one I spotted was booked already; the driver shook his head and said "No." The second one had an entire family sleeping inside, a mother, father, teenage daughter, and two year old. That one was a no, too. We spotted the third one from far, parked outside a temple. "Looks like a religious guy," my friend joked. We stalked up to the guy, not that walking faster would help much on that deserted road. But the skinny man looked hesitant when I started negotiating a price, he frowned and looked behind him. An old woman hobbled out of the temple, her samidhi, purse and little plastic basket in hand. Then he looked back at me, shrugged and gestured for me to sit. I realized this was going to be a shared rik experience with the old woman. I smirked, and waved a goodbye as my friend hurried away looking for another rik. He needed to go in a totally different direction altogether. So I sat, and off we went to drop the old woman off. I wondered how far away her place was, since she was obviously being dropped off first. She spoke fluent English,
"Nowadays,' she said, 'people are so bad, no?'
I smiled, and nodded. Sure, there were bad people everywhere.
"These days are different, you can't believe people," she continued. I started guessing her age, she was easily seventy, her hair was pure white, and her face wrinkled. But her eyes were bright and alive, she wasn't one of those old people who get tired of life and start giving up too soon.
"But this driver here, he is a good man. He drives very well, doesn't he?" I hadn't noticed his driving skill, I looked up to notice him hurtling down an empty road with intermittent streetlights. Still, I grinned and said,
'Yep, he's very good."
She nodded, as if in agreement. We had reached. The driver and her had a short conversation in Tamil, and she got off. Then she rustled around in her little basket, looking for something. Out came a little katori made of banana leaves, heaped with prasad. She gave this to the driver, who protested vehemently, but took it anyway with a grin, and starting eating. She hobbled across the road when she noticed a watchman sitting bored, on a little steel stool. She greeted him, and he returned with a namaste. She gave him another heap of prasad; he didn't protest. He smiled, as if he was used to this, and lowered his head as he accepted. Then she remembered me and came hurrying back. She dumped a huge amount of the stuff in my hand, I protested weakly, I mean, I didn't want to, but had to out of politeness. And then we were off.
The prasad was pongal, which is basically a rice dish with some masala. It's not sweet, but its full of ghee so it's not easy to consume an entire handful. I ate it slowly on the way home, wondering how the driver had managed to eat it all in one bite.
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Notices, Requests and Announcements
Spotted this on the notice board of a friend's building in Santa Cruz, Mumbai. The threatening note announces that if the offending parties don't pay up, everyone's water and electricity supply would be cut off. The bold red underlined letters makes it sounds quite serious too. Check out the terrible grammar! ^_^
Here's another sign that caught my eye, at a public water dispenser inside a store in Pondicherry. It says "pls do't use this tap" on a tape stuck on the tap, therefore preventing anybody from using it anyway :)
An empty store, with a sign announcing that it has moved to the next building. The potted plants are the only thing separating the abandoned store from the pavement outside.
Veg and Non Veg Rice Plate
My office is about 10 km from Pondicherry, near a village called Villianur. When we get bored of our mundane everyday office food, we go to this small canteen which is about a minute away. Mostly daily-wage labourers eat here, so it has excellent and cheap food. I love going to these out-of-the-way places. Everybody else may cringe and wonder about "hygiene," but I'm never worried. People are always friendly and the food is always good. After spending my twenty four years eating at such places, I'm pretty sure I'm immune (I think). This is the sign announcing the place. I can't read Tamil, but a friend of mine translated it for me. It says "Veg and Non Veg Rice Plates Available."
Here's a pic of the area just outside the canteen:
This is the canteen, a little cottage which is probably the owner's house also:
The entrance:
The best non-veg rice plate ever! Fish fry, fish curry, mutton, rice and vegetables, all you can eat, for just 35 Rs.
This old man was the only other person at the canteen:
Near the back, you can see a television, a welcome sign full of hearts, tables full of food, and the door to the kitchen.
A personal touch: a picture of the owner's parents are put up. This is a common sign of respect to your deceased parents. On the right is a calender with a picture of Kamal Haasan, a famous movie star. Movie stars are practically worshiped here, especially in the South. The way he is putting his hands together while walking is a typical way powerful politicians are portrayed here in Tamil Nadu.
What's your Proper?
There was a new guy at the office the other day. And the usual questions were being asked, "Where are you from?", "Have you started looking for an apartment yet?" etc. Then somebody asked him "What's your Proper?" The question was answered without skipping a beat, and I didn't notice it till much later in the conversation. Clearly, within a group of ten people, everyone from different parts of the country (we had good representation from the North, South, West and East), everybody clearly understood the phrase:
"What's your Proper?"
I did too. You see, it clearly refers to the place of your origin, and is very different from asking "Where are you from?" Of course, I may never ask someone that, especially in that way, but this kind of slang is common, isn't it. What really got me thinking was, how did the word "proper" get to mean such a thing? I mean, where's the connect, where's the relation, and how did this happen?
I was discussing this with my friends at dinner when an interesting theory came up. In India, everybody has such different backgrounds. In a big city its uncommon to find someone who speaks your mother tongue. Where you are from, is very different from your origin, your "village" or your actual place, or in other words, where your grandparents are actually from. It's an important part of your identity. So people ask, where are you from, and then, "Where are you from, proper." As in, really, actually, properly. So it means, "Where are you from, actually" - This has slowly decayed into "What's your Proper."
Well thats an exhausting explanation, but there doesn't seem to be any other, unless my readers can come up with something more plausible?
Visiting MatriMandir: An impossible wish
One year ago, when I visited Pondicherry for the first time, I heard about the Matrimandir, at the center of Auroville, it's a golden dome, a center of spirituality, and Aurovillian beliefs. As a group, we decided to see it. We cycled there, and landed up the first time, too late. We find out that the timings are specific, from - to - . We reached at 5:15, a bit too late, and they are not very flexible about that. So that was the first failed attempt. We find out you can get passes from 9-45 to 12-30 and 1-45 to 4 pm on weekdays, and 9-45 to 12-30pm on Sundays. Once you've got the passes, viewing times are different. They are 10 to 1 and 2 to 4-30pm on weekdays, and 10 to 1 only on Sundays.
The second time we were well informed, we got there on time, watched the required videos meant to enlighten you about Matrimandir, and finally saw it. From a distance of at least 200 meters! From the viewing point, the dome is tiny, fitting between my index finger and thumb easily. Again, we felt cheated all of us, design students, dying to see it from close. At this point we gave up, of course. I made up theories about why it was so difficult, it was a cult-religious thing, so they wanted to discourage disbelieving tourists from visiting it half-heartedly, or something...
Then my parents were visiting, so I knew I had to seriously try this time. I had to find out how to bypass all the heavy beaurocracy, rules, and rules within rules. I ask at the Auroville boutique, they give me a phone number. I call the phone number, and it is continuously engaged for 2 days. I go back to the Auroville boutique and tell them my problem, they remain unhelpful, say just call the number. So I call the number, I never get through, once I do actually get through and they say call after 2pm. I finally give up. Again.
It's been a year. Now my grandparents are coming to visit. It has begun again. I know it would be really important for my grandmother, who is very religious, to visit. So I ask around. This time I actually get a helpful person at the Auroville boutique. I tell him the number is continuously engaged, what do I do, my grandparents are coming, and I really want to show this to them. He agrees that it's difficult;
"The best way," he says, "is to ask one of your Auroville friends to come with you, sit for ten minutes until you get in, and then you're in." Of course, I always knew having an Auroville friend helps, but I don't have so many, and the one's I know, don't really want to tag along with me and my grandparents early on Sunday morning. What a favour to ask! So I nod my head in understanding, and I'm on my way.
Then I get the number again, and start calling frantically. Now, one year later, its automatic, you don't even get a human. It's now an IVR, with language options, and then, "If you've visited Matrimandir before press 2" and "If this is your first visit then press 1"
I press 2, and then hear about how you have to remember the last time you visited, the exact DATE, or else it's not counted. Plus it has to be recent. So I go back and press 1. They give you information on when to visit, and then a thank you, and they hang up. At this point, I ask a friend, who has managed to book the inside tour once through telephone, and she says you have to actually press 2, or something. So I press 2, and then figure out that you have to call between 2 and 4 pm only.
So now I've put a reminder on my phone, my face wears a determined expression, and here I go with my last (really this time I will really really give up) attempt to see the Matrimandir from the inside.
Update: I finally did see the inside of the Matrimandir when I was visiting from Bangalore with a friend who's parents regularly donate to them. No wonder it seemed so easy to her.