A Gujarathi treat at 'Mithai'

It was another boring day at work. The dirty bug we are trying to nail has been evading us for the past three days. And every time the software crashes... it is due to a different reason. Adding to the gloom the grubby horizon turned a threatening dark grey. Bugged of debugging and aimless browsing, I swiveled around in my chair to see the same state of affairs with Bali. Feeling the strong mutual bond of corporate boredom, I walked over to his cubicle to have a small chat. Somehow the topic changed, drifted, transmogrified ... to good restaurants in Chennai. Out of the blue I was reminded of an unassuming eat out in Vadapalani, Which I happened to visit with my family one late evening. As soon as I talked of this place, (btw ... it is called “Mithai” ) Bali suggested that we have dinner at this place today. Realizing, that dinner could potentially make up for the whole wash out day I had had, I agreed to the idea. Calling up home to leave word of my new plans, we made our way towards ‘Mithai’.

‘Mithai’ is a small Gujarathi restaurant serving sumptuous, wholesome, tasty and above all sensible food at reasonable prices. It is located on the Vadapalani Murugan temple road, just a few paces away from Hotel Saravana Bhavan (The self proclaimed Robinhood of South Indian Origin... Bhaa ... that’s the last place on earth I would like to eat at.) Even before we went to ‘Mithai’, we had decided that we would have the Guju Thaali. It is a neat little place, playing decent Bolywood numbers and boasting of polite and prompt service. One look at the menu cards, we ordered for the Thaali and decided to have ‘basundhi’ for desert. Had the place not been so small and the manager not staring at me as if I was going to blow up the place into smithereens, I would have snapped a few shots of the place and a plate full of food. But that’s ok; I guess all food lovers would by now having the laden plate dancing in front of their eyes.

There were three medium sized ‘phulkas’ and a cup of ... hmmm... great smelling ‘basumathi’ rice. There were two varieties of curry, One Dhal item, one ‘moli’ sort of sweetish stuff and a cup of ‘bhoondhi raita’. As frills there were a few ‘fryums’, a stuffed ‘mirchi bhaji’ and a small glass of butter milk. At first it appeared that we might be in need of some more stuff. But half way through the thaali, we were convinced that we are going to need some extra exercise to lay off the dinner effect. Wiping clean the last morsel off the plate, we ordered for cold, rich and heavy ‘basundhi’. Melting in the delight of thickened condense milk dissolving in our mouths, we thanked all the greater Gods of the higher heavens for having invented north Indian sweets. (Hey! ... wait a minute. ‘Basundhi’ is actually a south Indian delicacy. The north Indian counter part is called ‘rabdi’. )

Paying our bill we walked out into the cool night breeze with the Guju delight still lingering on our taste buds. So, there! We hit upon another garden of delight, and the list keeps growing!!!

Dinner Delight at Matsya

It had been a real long time since the three of us (Sara, Bali and I) went out for dinner. So, on one fine boring-post-coffee-break afternoon, it struck me to propose an outing. It was readily accepted. Generally, with respect to matters of food and drink we follow a strict code of honor --- “Never say no/enough!” We fixed the dinner for a Thursday night. And as usual ... Sara calls up (hell no! He didn’t call ... we had to call and ask His highness if he could be kind enough to join us for dinner.) and tells us that somehow ... there is this team of specialized workers who have managed to keep mum all thru the day and taking good note of our dinner plans, they have jumped into the fray at the last minute, to fix Sara with an extremely important job which called for urgent and responsible addressing. So ... there goes one down out of three.

That didn’t stop us (Bali and I). The call of a growling hungry stomach stood far highly esteemed in comparison to passing clouds such as office work. Bali ... anticipating a good hunt, did some amazing net research and hit upon a restaurant named Matsya. They have two branches. One on Thannikachalam road and another in Egmore. The reviews about the Matsya on Thannikachalam road did not sound too encouraging; however the one in Egmore had some interesting and inspiring comments.

So, jumping into the earliest cab from office that went to the Thiruvanmiyur MRTS, we ran from one end of the station to the other to grab our tickets off the counter and dash to catch a train to Park Town. Once there, we shifted trains and got into another heading towards Egmore. On the second train, we had a pleasant surprise when we met a senior and a junior at college, making their way back home from office. After a short and brisk ride, made sweet by traditional leg pullings and btw-what-are-u-doing-now kind of exchanges, we reached Egmore. We tried asking around for this restaurant called Matsya. Surprisingly, no one knew of any eat out by that name! Thanks to the NOP (Net On Phone) service that Airtel provides; pulling out my phone we googled for “Matsya Egmore” and got the exact address. Sufficiently armed with critical info, we managed to spot the hidden niche of exotic feasts. Over the brief stroll towards the restaurant, we read up a few reviews and blog entries explaining the various specialties at Matsya.

Opening the doors to a plush and decently designed setting, we found a corner table to slip behind and become one with the laid back atmosphere there. Service was prompt. The waiter came up to us with the menu cards to choose from. We searched hard for the Uduppi specials suggested on the various reviews we had read. Even as we were struggling to spot one or two, here and there, the waiter recommended that we go in for the Uduppi thaali. Costing Rs.85, he assured us that it would come with all the stuff we were looking for, providing a grand picture of the Uduppi culinary heritage. And so, thaali it was.

First to come was ‘Rasam Vada’. The vada was secondary. The rasam was the highlight. It was the best rasam we had ever had a whiff of. It had the mystery of Chinese clear soup and the home touch of mother’s pepper rasam. As we gobbled the last pieces of our soaked bloating vadas, spiced up with green chutney, we had the next dish being shipped on to our table. On a quarter plate were ... hold a minute ... let me check my phone for the notes I had taken .... ‘Kulzhi Paniharam’ (roasted in ghee), ‘Mangalore Bondas’ and a sweet called ‘Mangalore Bans’. We wanted to get things right. So we had the waiter at our table, taking all pains to teach us the names of every dish on our plates. I guess he was a true Uduppi patriot, for he seemed very delighted at this request of ours. It was just the second course, and the last few bites of it, left us with warning signs that our tanks were getting fast filled up!!! What a shame ... how could we be so impolite as to say no to the delicacies placed in front of us. So we plodded.

Next in line was the main course. A big plate with two varieties of dosas in the middle and a host of other mouth watering, eye popping goodies placed all around in neat little cups. There was a grey-green colored ‘Palak Dosa’ and a bright reddish brown ‘Uppu Pulli Dosa’. Going to the peripheries, there was a Idli like looking dish called ‘Kadubu’, a beaten rice dish called ‘Chitranam’, a ghee dripping ‘Bisi Bela Bhath’, a cup of popular Matsya ‘Sambar’, a rich and generously prepared helping of ‘Curd Rice’, fruit salad and a handful of ‘Uduppi Banana Chips’. You would need a gastronomically wondrous appetite to mouth every dish in front of us and get back home without exploding. But we had an honor to keep. So we justly chose a couple of dishes and ate it to the end, while we settled for a few spoonfuls of the rest, just to take note of the care, quality and taste with which they were prepared. Just as we thought we were done, there arrived the crowning beauty to the dinner delight – ‘Bajhari Dosa’. It was another kind of dosa prepared out of rice and had a special coconut sweet for a side dish. There were tears in our eyes. The waiter perhaps thought they were tears of joy and immense gratitude for an utterly satisfying treat. In reality, we were in a fix. Our minds could not think of rejecting this wonder, sitting there like a glorified treasure waiting for us to grab at. But our stomachs left us with little choice. Mind, the great seers have said, is a mad drunken monkey bitten by a scorpion. So, the mind won and we had the great dosa.

When the waiter came back for the customary – Anything-else-sir enquiry, seeing our faces he felt pretty foolish. He didn’t need an answer. We thanked and sent him off to get us our bill. With the bill paid, we slowly and steadily ... with utmost care levered ourselves onto our poor legs, the new found extra pounds were a bit too much to put up with. Thanking every waiter profusely for a delightful evening we made our way out.

Back at home and the next day in office saw both Bali and me ferociously campaigning for the Egmore Matsya, for a magical Uduppi experience. It just that expansive hearts that we are by nature gifted with, to share all that is good and delightful. [Ooooppss ... did u see that halo ring hovering above my head!!!]

A trip to Hoganekkal and Yerkard

It is still a surprise, how the whole thing came thru. Seven of us in different places, stuck with our own busy schedules. But I guess it was those timely kinks that pop when you go thru, an otherwise droning hum of meaningless, well structured dumb life. Most of us felt it deep ... that we needed to break away into some freaky oblivion ... some sun kissed beautiful mountain or some shell strewn bright blue beach. After a week or two's live exchange of pepped up mails we reached the consensus that our peep hole to freedom would lead us to Hoganekkal & Yerkard. Hmmm... now a bit on the chosen spots ... Hoganekkal is a beautiful mass of rolling water right between the fast blurring borders of Tamil Nadu and Karnataka. It so huge, fast and green that it offers an experience akin to water rafting when u ride the local cup shaped flimsy wafer boats. Then there are the many mini waterfalls, secret spots (well, I'll get to that in good time) and a lot of eye candy!!! As for Yercard ... it’s falsely called poor man's Ooty. A hill station with vast spread coffee plantations and plenty of stupid cliff spots named after every gender/age in the human species (Lady' spot ... children's spot ... God knows what other spots the place sports).

Bali, Sudhir and I took the night bus to Dharmapuri where the rest of the gang (Jaggu, Deepu, Manoj and Sanjeeth) joined in from B'lore. We were too thrilled at the prospects of a long awaited holiday cum reunion, that we didn't mind the sweaty cramped overnight bus ride. Once we reached the Dharmapuri (around 5 in the morning), we had a hot cup of local tea and went about freshening ourselves. In about half-a-hour's time the others landed. Well, actually they came much earlier and had taken a room near by and fell asleep waiting for us. After ample hearty greetings and fulfilling leg pulling, we jumped into the first bus that left to Hoganekkal. It was cool and crisp ride, up and down the slopes of the surrounding hills. On reaching Hoganekkal we found a decent lodge to leave our baggage and have a quick and light breakfast.

Chirpy and happy we skipped and ran towards the boating spot. There we found two boat men waiting to shave us with a mind boggling boat ride each costing Rs.450. After much thought, we went in for it. The boats themselves were nothing but a few bamboo sticks stitched to form a bowl, pretty flimsy ... adding to the whole adventure. We stopped in a few places, midway, where we found moss coated sharp rocks, with the fierce falls very close. Like seals soaking up the sun, we sat there amidst nowhere with the water thundering upon our heads. After we had screamt enough and slipped enough on the thick green slimy moss.... we were schooled away into calmer water where we were promised of serene backdrops of bright green slopes kissing sun colored sands that mysteriously vanished into the grey green waters. My! it was a sight for the Gods who had a bit of adventure in their blood. We pulled over on a small archipelago of wild growth ... the water was still, yet cool ... we all got into the waters while the boat men, resting their over stretched muscles had a quick meal of fried fish. In the water..... it was all that we could ever ask for .... we splashed, ran loose, and did all that we could. The best part of it was, we all learnt to swim in a matter of few minutes.... Deepu was our tutor.... so a best part of the time went in swimming up and down the silent currents of the water.

When we felt our limbs grow heavy as lead ... we decided to crawl back into the boats and move homewards ... it was already noon. The boatmen ... seeing us enjoy the trip so much ... offered an additional 1/2 hour of free ride over the waters ... but we opted otherwise, heeding wisely to aching muscles and growling stomachs. However, before we left the falls we went to a nearby place where the tourism board had built railings beneath an extremely strong falls, where people could have a great oil massage and roast in the sun and then go into the fierce waters holding the railings and feel heaven beating drums all over them. We skipped the oil massage and went under the falls ... that was the icing on the cake .... After half an hours of natures' massage ... we emerged soaking, like a piece of dead wood.

We then rushed back to the hotel, dressed up and checked out. Catching a bus back to Dharmapuri, we all fell into a blissful stupor. On reaching our initial meeting place, we found a suitable restaurant, had a belly filling meal, and dashed to take a bus to Salem ... Jaggu's home town.

We reached Salem around 4 in the evening. Jaggu took us to a good hotel where we booked our rooms for the night. Had a wash, fell into a short nap, woke up and got dressed to go over to Jaggu's place to meet his parents. Had coffee at his home and with ample pleasantries exchanged, slipped out to make it in time for a movie at a near by theater. Not a good movie ... but.. fine. After the film we went to a local eat out ... out in the open under a cool black night's canopy of dazzling bright stars. Closing the dinner with generous helpings of multi-flavored ice-creams we dragged ourselves back to our rooms and pulled the sheets over our numb heads.

The next morning we all got ready by 7:30 and went over to Jaggu's place, where his father had booked a sumo for us to go to a place called Yercard, a hill station about an hour and a half's journey from Salem. With a sweet brown coffee quickly gulped down we sped towards the hills. There we visited many spots ... none too extradinary or out of the world ... but just had fun with photos and climbing over safety railings to walk around not-so-dangerous cliffs. We spent around 5 hours there, and drove down back to Salem. With lunch over by 4:00 we had to rush back to the rooms, for the B'lore people had to catch the 5 o'clock train ... for which they had to go and buy the tickets at the last minute.

Some how, managing to make it in time ... we jumped out of the same sumo into a bustling crowd at the station. Waving a quick and pretty unceremonious farewell to the B'lore guys ... we made it to the bus stop where we Chennai guys took our bus back home.

On the whole ... the trip was more than satisfying ... All are eagerly looking for the next best opportunity to make another great escape into such wild holidays.

Out on the open terrace ...

I guess this is one of the best part of my student life that I can ever remember.... sleeping on the hostel terrace. Somewhere in the beginning of the academic year, a couple of our batch mates got together to paint the floor of the terrace with a special white powder which would help reflect most of the merciless heat of the scorching summers. The terrace is a wide expanse of open floor with no impediments save a few dividing mounds of water pipes hidden in cemented dividers.

We go to the terrace (some of us) to trick the stuffiness of our rooms. Once there on the terrace underneath the open sky it is a world apart. There would be the brilliant canopy of dazzling stars studded against the backdrop of the ink black mysterious night. Often they would seem like sparkling diamonds strewn across the sea shore just waiting for us to walk up and pick them up. And there would be those sudden bouts of unpredictably naught breeze that would hid behind the dark green branches of the silent trees waiting for the moment when you could be best taken by surprise, when they would blow across making the most gentle of caresses and ruffling of the neatly combed hair.

We would lay our beds out in the open, and sit chatting for hours together.... late into the night. We would talk anything and everything that managed to hold our interest. When the night breeze blew cold, we would get into our sleeping bags and lay there continuing to chat. Somewhere well past midnight ... stomachs start grumbling and we would decide to sneak down into the kitchen to find something to eat. When we don't find much, we would wake up one of the guys who have the keys to the hostel general stores and buy a few packets of noodles, some cream biscuits and a couple of soup or juice sachets. Then for the next half-an-hour or so we would busy ourselves making a fine second dinner. Oh... we really loved those eats.

By the time we are through it would be around 4:30 in the morning and we would begin to feel the exhaustion of another eventful night. And so would quietly get into our beds and slip into a child's slumber. It would be around 7:30 when we are woken up for the day ... by the crisp morning air and warm golden rays made more beautiful by the accompanying bright bird twitters. Wow what a way to live life!

Cold Coffee Delight

It was a beautiful star filled night sky above us, on that cool winter night. We were three of us, Shibu, Venkat and myself. We used to sleep on the hostel terrace every night. Normally we chat till 2 in the morning and then fall asleep. If in the course of our chatting, we get to feel hungry, we would run down to another class mate of our, who is incharge of the hostel stores and wake him up from his sleep and drag him to the stores and buy a few packets of noodles and some cream biscuits. We would then run about to produce a quick and delightful dinner, spiced with the month's most favoured drink.

The month's drink was cold coffee. So we got the milk cold and the coffee powder. Now we needed sugar and that would have to be stolen from the hostel kitchen. So .... sneeking quitely we went into the kitchen store room and found the sugar box and filled our cup.

Noodles cooked, biscuits opened, we began mixing our cold coffee .... all on the terrace, out in the open, pitch darkness, save for the faint light of the fading moon. I was to take the first sip and pass my comments.

However, with the fist sip .... came no comments, but a streaming jet of what went in (just couldn't call it a normal cold coffee). I had burnt my tounge to bloody red boils over a sip of cold coffee..... I stared in disbelif. The other two watched me with googly eyes with horror writ on their faces.

Reproaching me for wasting precious resources and paying no head to my warnings Venkat took hold of his cup and gulped a big mouthful of the sinful fluid. And what followed was an hyperbolated version of my reaction (a gulp is, I guess, a wee bit more than a decent sip).

When we did find out, what turned a delightful cup of sweeted cold caffined lactose product into an acrid brown poison, we were rolling on the floor holding our stomachs with are side splitting with laughter. We had added baking soda instead of suggar!!!

Paradise discovered ... Tada Falls

I must have written much earlier … when the memory of it all was still fresh and vivid in my mind. Often as I read big fat novels describing soulful escapes into thick green unsullied jungles …. I have found myself dreaming of a gurgling brook of crystal water running through a canopy of dancing shadows of heavy branches … with the sunlit patches of the forest floor forming a thousand kaleidoscopic images … with the noisy birds and omnipresent deafening silence … all just waiting with their arms thrown out to wrap you up in an embrace of a lifetime.

Phew! … well I saw that and much more … in an office trip to a place named Tada Falls. Somewhere on the border of Andhra Pradesh and that of Tamil Nadu, there is this magical Eden hidden beyond huge hills and long hours of rugged walks up and down the dales. We started out early in the day, taking a Tempo Traveller. Stopping en route on NH5 for breakfast … we headed straight out of TN. We reached the place in about one and half hours. But the journey actually began from that point onwards. We were told that beyond that point we had to rely on God given means of locomotive structure, our very own legs. So we began … at first chirpy and full of fun …. After climbing up and down a hill and stopping to realize that we came the wrong way … some of us began to show signs of agony, anguish and simple raw red pain.



Retracing our steps to the place where our cab stood waiting … we took ample pictures of both the right and the wrong directions to pass on as valuable legacy to any future generations of extra adventurous group from our office who decided to make it to Tada falls to enjoy a peaceful holiday! Then we walked …. Walked …. Walked ….. and walked …. Hey wait …there seemed no damn end to it ….. but the only thing that kept us going was the distant rubble of a laughing stream …. Both our bodies and minds were aching to lever ourselves in to the cool depths of that running water.

After a short span of endless eternity we came to the foot of another ominous looking hill where there stood a temple of sorts. There were a couple of elderly looking villagers who readily offered us advice, direction and “if willing” paid assistance. Politely refusing their guidance offer …. We proceeded towards thicker foliage admits rockier terrain. Finally, along the way we spotted the brook … that grew into a stream … and then led us to a steadily flowing glass like mass of water. …. GOD!!! We couldn’t have asked for anything better after the inhumane torture that we put ourselves through. The sight of water rejuvenated us to go further and try to reach the base of the famed water fall. But that was a long way off …. soon realizing that … we settled for a beautiful clearing, where the water was flowing faster and clearer with multi colored fishes swimming in and out. Skirting the banks of the stream there were tall trees held in place by huge rocks and kept alive by a group of wild monkeys. It was simply as if we had run away from reality … somewhere out of the world through a window of beauty.


Stripping bare we jumped into the welcoming water. Ahhhhhhh….. I can feel the cool water over my chest … hitting me on my back …. Splashing and diving we washed the weariness off our sore limbs. Imagine … lost in the middle of a serene forest … neck deep in see through clear water …. No one to call you out of the fun!!! Bet we had a whale of a time … Infact, we had our lunch standing in the water waist deep. After we had had enough we walked out dripping wet with shriveled skin. Wiping dry we reluctantly got dressed and bid adieu to that pool of paradise.
And then began the return stroll … ah! an after lunch stroll …. After walking a rough two and a half kilometer distance under a bright golden sun, who somehow found it merrier on that particular day …. We found ourselves kissing the floor of the cab in thanks for the air conditioner that it had …. We then drove back home, well reclined in our seats … watching some crap movie. And before we knew, another day of great adventure had come to a fitting close …. We were earlier in our home than we would have been on a normal working day!!!!

A weekend by the sea ...

After a long week of rebellious planning and last minute hitches and change in schedules, we managed to find ourselves on a bus that took us to our weekend adventure spot - Mahabalipuram. Before I could talk of all the fun we had, I must.... shall we say ...pause in awe to gape at the grandeur and mystery that shrouds the place.
No one knows for sure when or how or even for what Mahabalipuram came into existence. Oh! It slipped my mind to tell you what you would find in Mahabalipuram. It is a rough green sea lashing ceaselessly against black rocks and sun colored sandy shores. Along the coast are excavated temples and cave temples which stand as timeless testimonies to the superiority of the ancient Pallava dynasty's architectural consummacy. With a shift in the sea lines and perhaps an unforeseen catastrophe, a large part of these monuments got entirely submerged, not in the sea but in the sand! Because of this a major part of the intricate carvings and sculptures are eroded and what is left behind is a hazy clue of what they must have set out to depict.
You don't need to know about the smoky history that adds to the magical flavor of Mahabalipuram to enjoy it. However, when I came back from my trip to blog about it... I decided I must know a little more about Mahabalipuram. So I did some web research (not much though) to rediscover the enigma that Mahabalipuram is. It was then that I felt ... that had I done this internet look up prior to my trip, I could have better appreciated it (not that I didn't enjoy it).
OK! That cursory salute to all my high school history teachers would have made all their stuffed souls happy. Now to the trip! It was in the early hours of a cool and crisp morning that we set out. As soon as we landed at Mahabalipuram we had a light breakfast to keep our minds off such mundane things as the rumblings of a grouchy acidic stomach. We then headed straight to the biggest of the excavated temples. It is a huge temple made out of a single rock, standing solemnly in a large and deep pit cut out to better reveal the long sculpted treasure. Like a seashell singing the secret depths of the soul of the ocean, the walls and the stones were almost humming the tune of a long forgotten tale colored by the pangs of pain in waiting for someone ... someone who would listen to them. It was as if the whole temple was desperate to tell you something ... if you would only listen. Oh my God! What an experience. There were three shrines and each held an idol of a God in the most unusual posture ... all of them like clues in a treasure hunt or pieces in a bigger puzzle. I could have sat there all day long, had it not been for the boisterous sea calling out to the kid in me. Oh! I simply cannot keep from the waves...
All around the temple, in the direction of the sea ... a long stretch of mighty black boulders were thrown in to keep the sea at bay (an attempt to save the findings from further future damage). We decided that we would climb high on the boulders and sit there for a while looking far into the green sea ... chatting and cracking jokes and of course ponder upon the meaning of life ;-) Salted by the peppery sea breeze and made crisp by the warm sun we recollected all our student days. When I could hold myself no longer ... we got down and went into the waters. Or rather I went in and the rest, preferring to stay dry sat on a lower rock to continue chit-chatting. I had a whale of a time. It’s a totally unexplainable feeling when your body rocks with the waves. It’s like you're a part of it and at the same time you're not. Only when I had enough and had a call from home (some how parents have the instinct that tells them when they need to panic, even when their children are miles away on a supposedly safe outing near the beach. Mind you it was not long before we had the tsunami here.) with my mother checking in on me did I walk out of the waters to lay on the rock to get myself dry. She knows too well how irresistible the sea is to me.
After changing into a new pair of clothes we moved over to the cave temples, not far from the sea. You have got to be there to see what I am talking of. There are numerous caves amidst a cluster of small rocky hills. On each one of these hills was a temple beckoning you to climb up to them. Most of them have no humanly mitigable path that leads to them. We felt like a bunch of explorers who for the first time are treading fresh grounds, discovering never before seen wonders. Puffing, panting and laughing we went up and down the mountainous hills looking into every cave we came across and stopping before every shrine we passed. Finally we climbed the highest hill and lay there roasting in the sun (just to catch all the lost breath) for quite some time.
I guess it must have been the primitive urgings of the base growls from the bottom most pits of our stomachs that pushed us down to the lower realms of earth in search of organic edible substance made fit to eat. And so we drove back home from there dreaming of good food!

Weekend at the Blogcamp

Sitting in my office cafeteria and flipping through the day’s Hindu, I came upon a small snippet of a write up on a blogger’s meet here in Chennai. Hmmm… blogging has always held my fancy, but I never did justice to it. But oh! … hold it … it was on the following weekend … and that too a few blocks away from my workplace. The thought of a much awaited weekend slipping through your fingers and a dreadful journey to this uncivilized, God-forsaken, outer-space of beautiful Chennai was more than I could battle. But there it was … like a freshly pulled out luscious plump carrot dangling in front of a worn out Bugs Bunny. So … to cut the long story short, I went to the Blogcamp 2006.

It was held at Tidel Park. (God! … at least it was held in a comfortable place with decent air-conditioning!)Down at the auditorium in front of a large banner bill board flanked on both sides by white screens, semi circularly skewed rows of tables and chairs were laid with a good number of power terminals for the attendees’ laptops. The atmosphere was very cool and casual (its got to be that way … it’s a blogger’s meet … not a UNESCO conference!) Boy! that really made me feel at home. Since I was on the confirmed “extra” attendee list I had to take a modest position among the back benchers. That suited me well to study the happenings better. There was a very unofficial introduction to the camp by Kiruba followed by some others. They explained that the program schedule was purposely not fixed, in order to allow it to be dynamically determined based on the interest flows and expertise of the attendees.

Half-an-hour into the event, I began to feel out of place. Everyone around me was a veteran blogger, blogging for the past 4 to 5 years minimum. Almost everyone had a cloud of blog sphere popularity built around them. And … none of them was a techie or a geek … (ofcourse there were quite a few of them … but all somewhere in the front and none sitting any where in my vicinity.) Looking around I made friends with a fellow blogger. A few more minutes followed by a short what-is-coming-up-next break, I turned around to make friends with the lady sitting next to me. And what do u know?… she is a die hard blogger with a celebrity profile at multiple blogging platforms. As time sped by we got to know each other more … I had quite a lot to learn.

Over the weekend (sat & sun) I managed to find sessions of my interest (as the majority there termed it … the geekier happenings of an otherwise sane and normal event). There were seasoned techies talking about Wordpress and Blogger Beta, SEOs (Search Engine Optimizations), Technorati, science blogging, podcasting, and a whole lot of amazingly cool stuff. To me the whole event was quite interesting as I hoped it would be. And oh! … As part of the give away freebies, there was a shoulder bag from Yahoo! Inida, a solid ceramic mug, a book of humorous articles from Peguin, a scribbling pad and pen from ZOHO. And the food … everybody liked it unanimously. On the whole it was a well spent weekend. As I walked away from the Blogcamp back home, I promised myself to log more regularly and try and contribute in some way to the next Blogcamp event. So here I am full of promises and soda pop enthusiasm.

Vande Mataram

Back when I was a kid, waking everyday to the tunes of the first song played on the national TV … “Vande Mataram” evoked a very special feeling in my little proud chest. Little did I know that this feeling is the basic sense of belonging to a larger entity, and is labeled as “Patriotism”. As I grew up, I learnt more of the song and its poignant history. The song was written by Bankim Chandra Chatterjee in 1876. It later appeared in a book titled “Anandamatha”. The song, thought largely related to the Hindu Goddess Mother Kaali, adapted itself well to the Indian scenario of the freedom struggle. The song conjured such strong passionate fervor, that the then British Raj, beginning to fear its forceful effect on the suppressed people, decided to ban it. (and they did!) The ban was fuel to the fire. Vande Mataram soon acquired the unquestionable status of a freedom struggle insignia. However, when the Indian independence was won and the question arose over the choice of a national anthem, there were split opinions stating that as Vande Mataram had a Hindu origin (though only the first two stanza was proposed to be part of the national anthem then) it would fail to address a large part of a secular India. And hence, Jana Gana Mana was crowned the National Anthem title.

But the story doesn’t end there. Dr Rajendra Prasad, who was presiding over the Constituent Assembly on January 24, 1950, made the following statement which was also adopted as the final decision on the issue:

"The composition consisting of words and music known as 'Jana Gana Mana' is the National Anthem of India, subject to such alterations as the Government may authorize as occasion arises, and the song 'Vande Mataram' which has played a historic part in the struggle for Indian freedom, shall be honored equally with Jana Gana Mana and shall have equal status with it." (Constituent Assembly of India, Vol.XII, 24-1-1950)

Here is the English translation of the song as given by Sri Aurobindo:

Mother, I bow to thee!
Rich with thy hurrying streams,
bright with orchard gleams,
Cool with thy winds of delight,
Green fields waving Mother of might,
Mother free.

Glory of moonlight dreams,
Over thy branches and lordly streams,
Clad in thy blossoming trees,
Mother, giver of ease
Laughing low and sweet!
Mother I kiss thy feet,
Speaker sweet and low!
Mother, to thee I bow.

I see no religion in these words … but a pristine love gilded and held dear for all to share and feel the same towards the mother land. It pains to see that today, after so many long scored years this very same sweet song pulls over a great nation a fog of difference in opinion. Why should anyone feel threatened or belittled to sing a national song which was proclaimed by our forefathers as a benign float that carried them to freedom? Where did religion enter anyway? What is all the fuss about today? Is the fuss simply because it was made mandatory to sing it on the song’s centenary day or was it because BJP jumped in with all fervor. A large number of minority communities are planning to ask their people to boycott institutions of education on the 7^th of September just to avoid singing this national song. I was so shocked to read these words:

"Any attempt to force the singing of Vande Mataram will be uncivilised and an affront to the secular character of our polity and will also not be tolerated by Muslims," The Indian Union Muslim League president G M Banatwala said in a press release.

“Vande Mataram has been consistently and conscientiously held as idolatrous by Muslims. It also has an anti-Muslim and objectionable background. Muslims cannot sing it," he said.

How can the children of this nation have seeded in their mind such bitter seeds of factionist tilting? When the people at large are looking forward to a bright and shinning tomorrow, how can a few narrow minds play dark roles in planting walls that would in time build fortresses marring the prospects of a utopian future? It is puzzling as to why people don’t think on their own and rather choose to be fed on stronger colored thoughts and ideas of others. Perhaps the third wave phenomenon has an undeniable force that needs reckoning with.

On the other hand, it is heartening to note that there are still sensible men belonging to the same so called minority community airing opposing and thought provoking views:

"All students studying in madrassas are Indian citizens," Madhya Pradesh Madrassa Board chairman S K Muddin told TOI. "And every citizen should sing the country's national song with pride. I have instructed all madrassas to have our students sing Vande Mataram when students of every school and college will sing the song. Vande Mataram means 'Ei Matare Watan Tujhko Salaam'. It's a salute to the nation and we will along with every other citizen of this country salute our motherland."
"There is nothing wrong with praying for our motherland. Vande Mataram is a 'salaam' (salute) not a 'naman' or 'ibadat' (worship). If we were asked to worship then it would be unIslamic. Or even if we were asked to do 'sajida' which is the act of bowing while we read namaz. This is not 'sajida', this is a prayer for the welfare of the nation."

Some where the understanding and the tolerance level in us has been eroding all along. Instead of moving as one mass, we have chosen to settle in smaller globules of functional entities putting between us growing distances in the way we think and make our lives. Why can not every Hindu think like Mahatma Gandhi? Why can’t every Muslim think like our Honorable President A.P.J. Abdul Kalam? India is a young and growing nation. It is strongly believed by many of the world thinkers of the day that this century belongs to India as the last one belonged to the United States of America. We have a greater task at hand… we need to have these smaller dirt debris eliminated from our paths to make a dream of future India come true, hand in hand, as one nation … not as a majority or minority community. This is not a question of religion, politics or fascism. This is a debt we need to pay back … to put our motherland on the higher citadel of glory and grandeur.

....ahhhh...

Woooo.... there is so much to write about and I simply couldn't keep myself from it. Well, to begin with ... this whole blogging thing gives me the feeling that I tore out of a dark room ... tumbling onto a sunny meadow. Guess I should be doing this as often as I can ...

Oh!... by the way, if u get to read this and feel u could help me out in getting to be a better blogger ... do lay your comments down for me.