Drivers license

"Don't smile Saar !.....oooooohhhkay!", prayed the computer operator for the 3rd time, at the Regional Transport Office, asking me to stay put and stone faced while he pointed the webcam at my face. Try Hard as i may, i could not supress the bubbling joy and the idea that i might finally get my driver's licence.

Getting a licence was my official entry into the motorists' world. As i realized later, my actual lessons began only after this.

Commuting problem in bangalore can be broadly classified into two : Roads and drivers. Often against each other, drivers try hard to run down other drivers and animals, while roads try to maul those who are left.

Driving in Bangalore is more or less a cake walk, except that the chances of falling face-first into the cake is really high in this case. Roads are generally designed keeping motorists' morbid designs in mind, including huge pot holes which cater to the bungee jumping fraternity who have lost interest in cliff side getaways. Road humps live up to their name most of the time, and look like magnified ramps which drivers can optionally use to do a wheelie when they are bored of running down pedestrians. Idealy, the concept of roads in Bangalore is "an area where a house or a tea shop should not be built by law", and instead is a public playground, and a resting place for cows and buffaloes after a mid-day meal. Here the road is a great leveller, from the president to the bamboo thief, there is no sparing when it comes to roads.

Signals and zebra crossings are usually used to add glamour to the otherwise bland road, and are strictly for ornamental purposes only. As a child i used to wonder as to why a zebra would be foolish enough to cross the road only at the given place. Most still believe the same when they are adults too and cross the road everywhere but at the zebra crossing. Its like that "womens only" seats in public buses, here it is "Zebras only"!. Signals add color to roads giving motorists cheap entertainment and momentary challenge, while they try to jet past the road before the orange turns red. Basically signals test the driver's patience to wait for the green signal, and are not necessarily bound by law to wait for it. Many believe red is lucky for them, and so choose to cross the road when its red instead.

Lanes only add confusion to the chaos. for all practical purposes, a lane can be defined as "that part of the road, which must be used only when the driver in front of you doesnt". Waiting for the crackpot driver in front would hurt one's ego, and is generally not accepted in the driving community. instead, a quick look behind and a swift turn keeps one in good stead. The white markings on the road provide for neck to neck racing, more than defining lanes. "Stop" signals are required to trick drivers into loosing the race, and the fool who stops at the sign is not only an airhead, but also an imbecile oaf or atleast that is what he gets shouted at by drivers behind him "Yaako @#%$#$% magne nilsiddu ?" ( why did you stop you &&@#$#@$# ?).

While the general understanding of a flyover is the same when it comes to the outside world, it takes a slightly different meaning when it comes to authorities in bangalore. They are usually keen on taking the literal meaning, and leave the flyover half built up to the ramp , so that motorists can actually FLY OVER after that point. Obviously, the government is keen on saving money, so they leave the public to run helter skelter when that occasional drunkard driver forgets to see the dingy board which says "Flyover Incomplete. Sorry for the delay", and drives over the flyover to complete the sentence for them ", but you'll still reach hell in time".

Interestingly, Roads are the only source of annual income to quite a few departments in the goverment. The Bangalore Mahanagara Palike(BMP) and the water supply board(BWSSB) are like enemies in bed, both fight the crap out of each other for funds, one to lay and repair roads, and the other to dig up roads and repair underlying water pipes ! That was until recently. Over the years they have learnt to work together, the BWSSB now allows the BMP to build roads or repair them during the first six months of the year while they burn the hookka at home, and in turn diligently dig up the same roads during the next half of the year looking for that evading broken pipe damaged while laying the roads ! Now both departments are happy, and since roads and water pipes are constantly repaired round the year, people at any point of time are either fishing for water, or are being fished out of flood water.

The only time roads look smooth and levelled is in the rainy season, when mud water covers up the pot holes, providing the motorists with a live minesweeper game(for those who have played it). Pot holes generally come in varying sizes, and while the authorities sleep on it for years, motorists lose their sleep while tripping into it. Known for getting crazy showers at odd times of the year, roads in bangalore look more like as though saddam had used it to test his armour piercing missiles. For the lucky few who stay in the route of VIP motorcade, roads are maintained and decorated like they are being given away in dowry for the visiting VIP.

Getting a driver's licence is as easy as walking down the street, but only if you go through a tout, who apart from having 'inside contacts', will optionally learn driving for you instead, if you are ready to pay the extra amount. The RTO is infested with crooks and rabid owls who turn their head 360 degrees at the sight of a Rupee. For those who'd rather take the legal way, they'll either end up driving a cycle all their life, or spend half their good age running from desk to desk.

As for drivers, Bangalore has more of Divers than drivers, since they dive to grab any free space available on the road which might take them an inch ahead. Drivers come in two types, the good ones and the bad ones. The bad ones drive on the road, and the good ones take the bus to commute.

Many have weird misconceptions/superstitions about driving on the road. My foray into driving also attracted a number of driving advisors. My cousin used to tell anyone who cared to listen, that a good driver is one who kick starts a bike and not let it switch off, even by mistake, until one reaches the destination. Wonder what he thought those reverse counting timers on signals (put up so that motorists could conserve fuel by switching off engines until the signal turned green) were for - to blast the signals ?. As browny points he used to add, "..and if one accomplishes the journey by driving only in the 3rd and 4th gear, then he/she is a driving genius", both of which my cousin had proudly accomplished. Conserving fuel was probably not his forte. On another instance, one of my tenants who had bought a brand new luna, used to pray loudly every morning poking incense sticks to the headlight and shouting out "Devre office ge hushaargi thalpisi bidappa !"( oh god take me to office safely"). The zig-zag way in which he used to drive his vehicle, god must have been praying back to him "oh boy ! please let others reach safely to office, then i'll think about you !".

If there is one area where women and men compete neck and neck almost beating each other in their own game, then driving in bangalore surely is one of them. Of course women would beg to differ, and so do men. while male drivers honk and zoom past when they see a female driver , female drivers give back in kind by overtaking their victims from all directions.

A significant number of people in India don't mind being late for an appointment/meeting, but when they are on the road they transform themselves into riding whizkids, that is they whizz past like kids. It is more like jumping into an arena, where everyone is expected to perform, so the motorist with his beastly bike revvs up his engine, almost shouting loud "haven't i paid for this road, give me way!". The problem is the mentality of a lot of drivers. I was driving to office one day, and had to stop to wait for a signal when a cockeyed fool on a 'pulsar' bike started honking asking to give him way. This fool who also happens to work in the same company as mine, was very cautious about following rules within the office, and guess what, he even gave me way while driving within the campus. Morons such as him are more worried about reaching office early, than actually working there.

The number of vehicles being added to bangalore each day, on last count, has probably beaten the birth rate of the city. A gross exaggeration agreed, but 900 additional cars per day is not a small count. Of course IT companies( CEOs actually ) in Bangalore pop their eyes out crying hoarse that the city is going to dogs, but hey they'll still have 10 cars each that they'll want to use on any given day. While they propose humungously foolish ideas to overcome the traffic situation, they try their best to flood the city with a 100 more people each day and use the choicest words from oxford dictionary to condemn whatever is left of the place. Kids can learn a lot about hypocrisy just by looking at the pictures of these CEOs.

While roads continue to be a bigger problem, we motorists add a lot more to it than we give ourselves credit for. Roads will still get better one day, but the Driver ? only time will tell...

Tip-toe Dracula

Was going through some of Calvin and Hobbes cartoon strips. The author, Bill Waterson, is truly talented in recognizing stuff which kids do, and also their thinking. Many a times i see myself in Calvin, at least the initial years of my life. Looking back, being the youngest kid i guess i was a pest at home :D, and sure was a pain to many outside :D.

I was in 2nd standard when there was this offer to exchange 3 chocolate wrappers for a gift of our choice. I had painfully eaten up those dung smelling chocolates in my attempt to garner those wrappers, and ran to the shopkeeper to exchange it for my gift. There were a few choices: a pink doll, a box of those dirty chocolates again(without wrappers), and a set of dracula plastic teeths. Realizing i had no choice, i picked the set of Dracula teeths.

Determined to use it against my enemies, i planned for a deadly night attack on one thug who lived in the neighbourhood. After careful planning, i decided to drop the idea of a night attack, after i realized that i was as afraid of scaring him, as he was of being scared, given the deathly darkness at night. A torch could have done the trick i thought, but it would look very silly for a dracula to be running around with a torch, i concluded. Moreover, i was more afraid of running into a Dracula myself, given the pulp-fiction stories i was fed with as a child, by offshore aunties.

It was a saturday morning, a holiday, and I just tried it on to see if it fit properly, and it fit amazingly well, as though it was made for my teeths. Since it was white as a real tooth, it looked all the more believable. Thought of first scaring my mother who was cooking in the kitchen, then realized that it would be too risky at this age to run fast enough to escape just in case she took offense of my overgrown teeths. So i just dropped in to check if she was in a good mood to accept the scare i was about to give.

"maa...." ....and a goofy smile, uncharacteristic of a dracula.

"oh !...Juggi, Hogi 1 kg akki thagond baa..." ( Go to the shop, and get a kg of rice )....my mother ordered without an iota of surprise at my deathly looks. 2 foot draculas are hard to come by even in stale horror stories !

The smiling dracula obeyed with a big bow, and retreated gracefully with the 5 rupee note in hand. Hoping to scare someone else, i thought of removing the plastic tooth for now, and use it later. Unluckily for me, try hard as i may, the plastic tooth wouldn't come out, since i had pressed it too deep into my kiddish canines. Scared that i would be beaten to pulp if my mother became aware of the situation, i decided to go all the way to the rice trader praying nothing untoward would happen.

The 2 minute fame that i had hoped to gather by scaring someone had now turned around to bite me back where it hurt most. Thinking of the irony, i walked into the rice trader's shop.

The Rice Trader was a portly man, with a bald pate, who sat all his life on that seat which his son, the thug i spoke about earlier , was hoping to capture in future. The old man had amassed enough wealth by selling rice and stones together, and almost had his own set of weights for measurements, which far from being accurate looked more like hardened cow dungs.

"Yenri esht dina beku nimge saala vaapas maadodikke ?" (how many days to you need to return the money you borrowed?) ...bellowed the rice trader at a customer in front of me.

"Neev kodo kallu mannige, dudd badlu chaavti nall hoDibeku !"(for the stones and sand you give, we should give you a lash, instead of cash).... the round aunty bellowed right back, widening his cave like nose into an awkward circle.

Both went into a heated argument, and finally the rice trader shunted off the customer giving her the 2 kg of rice+stones. Of all the days, i had to choose this day to transform myself to a dracula.

"yen beko hudga ?" (what do you want, boy ?)

careful about not opening my mouth, i indicated to him with my eyes at the rice grain sack, with my index finger up, indicating 1 kg.

"Bai ilva ? yen beku helu !" (dont you speak, tell me what you want !!)

scared out of my boots, i tried to get out an unassuming smile. Try as i may, it was the hardest thing to do, trying to speak with a half closed mouth.

"ond kg akki bekaagithu" ( I need a kg of rice)... i blurted out, with a weak smile, when the canines decided to pop-out unceremoniously.

That streak of fear and shock on his face could have made even a stone to roll with laughter, but i stood holding my breath both because i could not stop laughing, and more importantly could not stop fearing.

Jumping out of his seat, the rice trader bellowed:

"Yeno !! nun hatra ne aata aadthiya, chotudda idiya !!" (you 2 foot kid, trying to play tricks with me?) ....eyes red with anger.

the two seconds of lead time i had to get what he was trying to tell, made me realize that he was not behind me the dracula, but was behind me like a dracula. Without thought nor logic, i bulleted back home looking back only after i was safe from his clutches, albeit without the rice grains.

For the effort i had put to escape from the JAWS of death, it was satisfying to see the rice trader's face of momentary fear, for a dracula in shorts was the least he had expected to see in his evil life as a trader :D.

Times of a Tabloid

Ad-verse Condition
"Al-Qaida in Kanpur, selling Insurance !" screamed the thursday's Times of India edition like it had ants in its pants, a few months ago. Turns out to be just an advertizing gimmick by an insurance company in UP, which the Times reporter covered.
I can't believe the extent of stupidity this paper has managed to amass in recent years. From a once respected daily, it has now turned into a novice tabloid. Who else in their right mind can take this crap as "News" ! ... The paper obviously is trying very hard to please its readers, by talking their talk, but unfortunately for it, this simply isn't the right direction.

Megalomaniac
The paper tries so hard to please its readers that it's simply amazing the extent to which it goes to lick each one of it's readers boots. All the more evident in the way it gives cricket a prized place in its sports section. Agreed it has a popular following here, but who the hell wants to know which cricketer had what food for the day, when in wimbledon all hell was breaking loose. Just going through a few editions when chapell was named coach will give one a very good idea of what TOI is up to. "chapell did this", "chapell ate that", "chapell swam here" "chapell kicked there".... man !! who in their right mind would be interested in an old man's daily routine !

Critical Nonsense
The only thing TOI is good at is to sensationalize crappy news, make people believe that the news they get from TOI is indeed of critical importance to them, with most of the news sounding more like as though a convicted lunatic is walking around in the neighbourhood with missiles tied to his shorts ! Only after we have read the full dumb story that it becomes clear that it's actually a kid's who's been running around with two unusually long pencils in his pocket, and then followed by a long boring story about bringing up kids without the aid of pencils ! That's news !, courtesy: TOI.

Many a times , i feel, TOI is majorly responsible for all that euphoria it creates about players, movies, cricket or all those stuff which turn out to be a damp squib.

Whacky Whacks
The dumbness of the paper is only equalled by an even more pathetic way in which it tries to lure people by their so called 'whacky' one liners. For instance, their world news section is now named "The World at your Feet"....tell me, does this even remotely make sense ? Even a drunk hyena would agree that this is the act of a bafoon. Or the first page one liner printed above the name of the paper, which says "Zero Worries. Zero Duties. Celebrations Unlimited"....duh !. Even a baby that can't sit on its potty properly has a million worries, and these guys talk like they are publishing for readers on MARS to read it.

Poll position
Anyone familiar with the so called Poll section of the TOI will agree with me on the kind of questions that are put up for poll. I usually read that section of the paper when i feel this intense urge to barf; works for me. Many a times it makes me wonder if TOI employs people in its ruddy office to actually participate in those polls. Insane questions more like "Do you think Aishwarya should have slapped salman ?" or even worse "Is Bill Gates ready for Pearly Gates ?" keep readers guessing...astoundingly, many a times there is only a "Yes" and a "No" for the reader to choose from, when most of the time its "can't say" which is the answer ! how can a midget sitting in Domlur know why Aishwarya chose to do what she did !
Well any roadside hawker will tell you that this is a cheap gimmick to find out how many people read their paper along with increasing the sms traffic, and then finally publish one fine day that it's nearest rival "The Deccan Herald" had to eat it's shoes for trying to compete with it. Anyway, both these newspapers bring out ads against each other, which more or less looks like two hungry mongrels trying to bite into each other's tail.

Unnerving Dubya
Of Course the most celebrated crap about TOI are its reporters and it columnists. It's long time loyalist The-Pin-head-Poop-Brain Jug Suraiya should have actually starved of hunger like one of those somalia UNICEF baby ads, but for TOI. Who in the right mind would give him a job otherwise. His infamous Dubyaman cartoon strip was such a pain to read, it used to bring me back those childhood nightmares of "goggayya"(Devil with a banjo), which that long lost aunty used to tell me to put me to sleep. I still remember the curses readers used to send(which the TOI had the nerve to publish right below the cartoon) every damn day, and almost plead it to remove that cartoon strip. Half of pin-head's hairs must have fallen off because of those curses. One reader had almost threatened to create a rival comic strip in Deccan Herald, while another wrote "I like to read the curses people send, more than the cartoon itself, so please keep up the work" :D....As for me, i used to read that strip whenever i felt threatened that i was the last fool left on the face of the earth, and console myself that i was wrong.

Caste-ing a bait
A few months ago, an ad for their matrimonial edition, on the front page of the paper shouted "We openly discriminate among people. We support people who advertize in our matrimonial service with the words caste no bar in their ad, by providing a 10% discount"... i mean this is sordid stuff....Does the Times of India think it is some neo-secularist, out to rid the society of caste and prejudice ? i would laugh my head out if someone told me "yes"...It is just a pathetic way, chosen by the paper, to get popular following with it's pseudo-secular views. Agreed there are problems with systems in a society, but everything has a way to be dealt with. Times of India is no full of saints who have given up their happiness for the cause of people. It has always been a sack full of dirty vagabonds who eat into the society by exploiting its weakness.

Ad-vantage
Added to this, the paper is filled with ads, so much so that we have to virtually search for news. Look at the creativity of the advertizers, they publish their ads that look like news columns; only after we have read it completely we come to know that it is a solicitation by a plumbing company asking us to buy "Ashok pipes" !...Darn this paper ! one day they'll publish a small sheet of paper which will tell the pages and columns in which news can be found in their newspaper for that day !.

Sleezy Solace
What was once a Information supplement, the Bangalore Times has now turned into one that is a sleezy compliment. Well another paper "Asian Age" was born that way, but TOI didn't think twice before turning into one either. Starting from those putrid "15 questions to keep your wife happy", to "5 easy ways to separate from each other", TOI has printed a whole load of elephant dung in the past years. None make sense, especially those silly quizzes which evaluates nothing more than the amount of mental crap that readers have acquired over the years reading this damned news paper.

In its attempt to appeal to the younger generation, TOI goes one step ahead by buying itself a medallion of foolishness, apart from being an accomplished street fool. Many a times, the paper itself has no idea what its printing, and keeps publishing the same rabid stuff again and again in different pages, hoping people will not find out.

Of course the limited creativity that its crew possesses is hardly usable, so they print stuff that hardly leaves anything to the reader's creativity or imagination.

The Times did shine
Once a Bhel-puri guy was particularly happy about TOI, my rants notwithstanding, "Saar ee times auf india nouru super . ond rupai kotre, 1 kg paper kodthaare, ond dinakke asht saaku" (The Times of India guys are too good, for 1 rupee they give a kg of paper, enough for me to sell bhel-puri to customers for 1 full day)

Needless to say, i stopped respecting TOI a long time ago, but i do read it once in awhile to see if it has broken records in steeping even lower. Until now the TOI has not failed me in accomplishing that. Atleast they are good at that !

Waxy Sojourn

"Smile Please !...",

.... i ordered for the nth time, asking my friend to stand closer to Beyonce and smile, instead of the 1 mile gap that he had created between them, while he tried hard to stay as cool and composed as a pillar. Meeting Beyonce made him look nervous, even though she was smiling and posing for several photo ops so I could get that perfect shot. A few crazy girls nearby were ogling at a famous base ball player whose name I cannot recollect.

"31$ is your bill, sir...and Welcome to Madame Tussauds, New York" beamed the lady at the counter, handing me the ticket, waking me up momentarily from my trance.

Madame Tussauds, a High point of my trip to New York, also made me look like a goofy by the time i was out, fooled at every step I took at the 4 floor museum.

With only a working knowledge of celebrities in the west, and a goofy group fooling around for company, it felt like an empty coconut shell had commissioned itself between my ears. for the next 30 minutes, we posed, without fear or rebuke from anyone, next to wax models of Elle McPherson, Shakira, Jennifer lopez, Salma Hayek and a few more, leaving the male wax models standing like flag posts without care or concern. Vivek almost tripped over himself in his attempt to pacify Madonna, who was rather grim and looked forsaken, while Suneel was having problems with his ponch, trying hard to look less than twice the size of Julia roberts.

By the time we were done with the first floor, we had practised enough killer moves and poses, and by now were suspended in air one feet above the ground.

A rather dingy board read "house of horror - photography not allowed". Pitch darkness, as we entered a narrow lane unaware of anything that was in store.

"....yeno isht kathlu illi !".... (why is it so dark in here !)

....and WHAM !!!...the door on our left closed and opened again, with a white faced ghost materlializing in front of the door. It was enough to get the daylights out of all of us, with me shivering peculiarly, trying to stand and run at the same time. The next thing we knew, we were all as white-faced as the door-side ghost.

Kiran being the bully, pushed suneel to the fore, while we followed him ponch first, and our hair all straightened up like a glorified cactus. It would have looked very funny for that ghost, but we were praying our heads out that the ghosts in the otherwise dark room would be happy with Suneel and leave us alone.

Kiran pacifying suneel, was more like "Suneel, this is the time when that fat in your ponch can be put to good use !".. Accustomed to being tormented by kiran, he didn't think the ghosts could do better. Good for us.

All our heavenly sojourn back in the celebrity room was washed away, and we were dying to get out of this shady room.

BOOM !!!! ....a huge sound from the floor and a gush of chill air swept across our feet, almost toppling us backwards...suneel recovered fast and started to speed ahead of us, while we still lingered around to see the fate of the goat that went ahead. A screeching voice, and a broom stick tap, and voila !, a ghost in a Black suit came thumping ahead to scare the slightly piqued Suneel.

Giving the ghost a look of "ok, am i to get afraid or were you born that way ?", Suneel shouted back "yaako Gubald !"....The American Ghost was taken aback and didnt know whether to take Suneel away with it for his offensive language, or just escape for good. It chose the latter. Our faces white with fear until now had now turned into a unplottable laugh, guffaw actually....patting him on his back, we ran towards the exit, shouting like hungry mongrels, while another ghost in the attic tried pathetically hard to chase us.

Leaving behind us the gory wax models, we were relieved to see the exit sign, and made towards the next exhibit hall. As we moved around, to cross another entrance, we saw a lady taking a photograph of a group of wax models which i thought was of a famous band group. The chinese lady was all focused and still, concentrating hard on the subjects she was about to capture. Being the gentlemen that we are, we thought not to disturb her and wait for her to finish, before we passed between them. While we focused hard on the wax models and appreciated them, we ignored the chinese lady completely.

1 minute up.....we were all still blinking at that group, waiting for the photograph session to finish...as though they would just move away after that !

2 minute up.....now we started getting doubts like "what is this lady doing, is she taking a photograph or has she turned into one of those dumb wax models!"....and turned around to see if she was done...and By Golly !! she was a wax model herself !!....madame tussaud made us wait like morons in between those wax models !...Grrrr...

After being fooled by many wax models that were strategically placed, to make us think that they were real people, our brains were working full throttle to overcome the visual situation. As we passed a few models, we came across "The Rock" Hero Johnson's wax model. vivek and kiran wanted a snap with him, while Suneel began clicking furiously. Meanwhile, i saw two wax models, a young lady looking down towards her camera and a man in a suit, both non-celebrities. The wax models were two feet apart, and so i shouted "Oi Vivek, get me a photo with these two wax models, i'll look like i am standing between two people i do not know, and i can fool everyone, heheheehe"...with that silly grin i went and stood right in between the two wax models. To my horror, both wax models turned towards me !!!...

...they were not wax models, but visitors like myself !....i had done enough damage that i could have actually given them a cellphone to call 911 !

After a quick run through of the other models on display(Jennifer Aniston was ravishing, and so was Princess Diana), we ran towards the exit, to finally be freed from the place. In the next one hour that we roamed New York, all of us were in a trance, feeling like there were wax models everywhere in city. Apparentely, this is the feeling that most of them usually experience after visiting Madame Tussauds, leaving people to move around in drunken stupor.

The whole event left me wondering about the amazing talent of the artists who were involved in the creation of these masterpieces, compared to the textboxes and buttons that i am usually seen moving around on my Web Application.