Tag lines of government-run initiatives are rarely catchy. Karnataka Tourism is a great exception. One state, many worlds - it says and rightly so.
The state indeed houses exquisite worlds - of scenic coastal areas, green hilly regions, breathtaking ghats and fascinating plains. And each place is flavoured in the influence of the bordering state. Belgaum and Dharwad smack of Maharashtrian culture, Hampi and Bijapur reflect Hyderabadi etiquette while Udupi and Mangalore bear a strong Kerela influence.
Thanks to my stars, my work recently took me to Belgaum in Karnataka. As is my wont, I took this opportunity to tread on some of the long, winding routes that city-bred tourists would usually avoid. The thrill of such mad explorations is beyond words. And to give me company in my priceless Maruti 800 were my wife and kiddo - both avid travellers like me.
Day 1
We left two days prior to my corporate acting workshop at Belgaum - the plan was to lose ourselves in the captivating folds of the state before I worked in the shop.
We took the comfortable but expensive NH 4 (the tolls cost Rs 350/- from Thane to Hubli) I briefly checked the arrangements at Hotel Eefa in Belgaum at around 12.00 before proceeding further on the NH4.
We reached Hubli at 2 pm. The road ahead to Chitardurga was nothing short of a nightmare - we passed Haveri, Davangere, Harihar - finding our way through countless diversions, dangerous potholes and dusty pathways. Called the city of stones, Chitradurga today lives up to its name for the wrong reasons. Save for the majestic fort and artistic temples, the town life seems quite bland. The vivacity of coastal Karnataka is sorely missing.
It was 6.30 pm by the time we reached Hotel Aishwarya Fort in Chitradurga. The hotel seemed great on the website. ("top and top" - remarked one innocent pedestrian on the way when we enquired)
Reality was different, if not opposite. The hotel does roaring business only because it's the best in Chitradurga- the rooms are clean, service is passable, toilets are bearable and the food is edible...But the zing is clearly amiss. We spent the night there simply because we had no choice.
Day 2
We left the hotel at 6.00 am and embarked upon a journey that was filled with adventure. The destination was the Annapoorneshwari temple in Alangar near Moodbidri but the route was not optimal...by choice.
The shortest route is on NH 17, the next best is NH4 till Hubli, NH63 till Ankola and NH 17 for the last leg. We have been several times on both the routes but this one was the craziest... NH 4 till Chitradurga and then NH 13 till Karkala..a jounney spanning 9 hours on an average.
The road till Shimoga (Shivamoga - Lord Shiva's face) was great, save for the last 10km which was horrendous. It was 9.00 am by now. Thanks to the prompt advice of a smart young man sipping tea at a junction, we took the Tirthalli - Agumbe - Karkala route.
At Karkala, we almost lost our way. This time, a happy family resting in the garden of their scenic bunglow came to our rescue. The drive ahead was a mixed bag of smooth tar roads and potholed pathways - it was 1.30 pm by the time we reached Alangar at Hosanadu.
The Annapoorneshwari temple was divine as ever - with the majestic 61 feet Hanuman near the Gopuram...a picture of health and humility. After the darshan, we had food at the temple - simple and wholesome food of boiled rice, sambar, a vegetable and payasam.
We resumed our journey - this time to Udupi - to the comfortable Paradise Isle at Malpe Beach. The time was 5.00 pm when we checked in. The rest of the evening was spent at the beach and the hotel's exquisite bar. This was Sachin Tendulkar's day of the immortal chase - we caught few glimpses of the little master in action in our suite.
At the bar, I met one Mr. Dayanad Shetty, manager of the hotel and a resident of Bhayendar, a congested place in suburban Mumbai. He was enjoying the sleepy idyllic life of Malpe but was clearly missing the big city.
Day 3
We took the wheel at 4.00 am - on NH 17, stopping for breakfast at Bhatkal. It was 9.00 am at Ankola and by the time we reached Dharwad via NH 63, the time was 12.00. I was now showing signs of fatigue - having driven for long streches for two consecutive days. We reached the cosy, plush business hotel called Eefa at 1.30 pm. After a delicious biryani, I dozed off till 5 pm.
The workshop on corporate acting skills began at 6.00 pm and went on till 9.00 pm. By the grace of God, all went well and we called it a day at 10 pm.
Day 4
We began at 4.00 am. The hotel had graciously packed an elaborate breakfast for us. The journey homewards was kind of boring. We stopped at Karad for tea, enjoyed the packed breakfast under a tree near Satara and had few snacks on the expressway.
We were home at 1.30 pm, having completed a memorable journey in less than four days flat. We are indebted to the scores of kind souls in remote places who helped us with such route maps, milestones and landmarks that Google search would never deliver. Their faces reflect diverse emotions even as they surge forward to help you with the directions - amusement at having encountered unlikely off-season tourists, concern in designing the best route and good wishes for safe and sound travel.
We salute their sensitive nature, unadulterated ways and zest for life...free of the nauseating obsession that some of our friends back home swear by...obsession with swanky cars, plush flats, home theaters, shopping mall goodies, expensive cell phones....just about everything that comes branded in life!
PS: NH 4, NH 17, NH 13, NH 63 - all have suffered the wrath of erratic monsoons. Repair work is in full swing but it would take two months to complete the mammoth work as it's painfully manual.
2010 should bring in some cheer on this front.
Untill the next trip...
Sunday, November 08, 2009
Sunday, October 11, 2009
Keep It Up Sid
Wake Up Sid is a simple, enduring sketch on a cliched canvas - the story of a laid- back rich guy forced to grapple with the deeper issues of his life has been a commmon theme in cinema. In that context, the first few frames of this movie remind one of Farhan Akthar's Lakshya (so does Ranbir of Hrithik) but the film has enough substance to claim its own place in the annals of cinema.
But given the familiar backdrop, director Ayan Mukherji tells an unusual love story of an equally unusual pair: the seasoned Konkona Sen Sharma and the promising Ranbir Kapoor striking a charming celluloid chemistry.
He's the pampered kid of a rich dad, she's the new girl in the big city - she's amused by his earthy charm and zest for life, he's enamoured by her resolve and clarity of purpose. The mutual respect unknowingly binds them in a relationship that grows beyond friendship but falls short of love. Both are baked in the reality of this elusive bond until one fine day, the pressure cooker whistles the triumph of true love.
Mukherjee employs the same popular motifs from the Bollywood factory - prime among them being a hardly-at-home dad with his mandatory rags-to-riches accomplishments, a caring-doting-forgiving mom showering 24/7 love and a man friday serving-with-a-smile 7 days a week.
But he is dexterous in portraying the subtle journey of the protagonists - how their larger commonalities condone the apparent contrasts finally to merge into a common goal. In reality, such love stories may be highly unlikely but the film leaves you yearning for them. The story floats aimelessly in the middle but the director shows great command over his medium in rearranging disparate pieces that make a complete frame in the end.
Ranbir is superlative as Sid - his confidence is striking, so is his emotive ability. He's one of the very few star-actors around who believe in underplay and are good at it too. Even his seemingly inconsequential gestures and interactions tell volumes about Sid's beliefs and idiosyncrasies.
Konkona, as always, is excellent - both of them unfold the chaos and confusion of their respective characters with aplomb and authority. There are umpteen moments when their eyes speak a thousand words in the film.
Rahul Khanna makes for a refreshing guest appreance, playing a part that he was naturally cut out for. Anupam Kher as the dad does full justice to the limited screen moments that come his way, Supriya Pathak as the mother is passable - her humour clearly falling short of the intended effect.
Kashmira Shah (remember her?) emerges from a long exile - her sex siren is a forced visual distraction. She does make an honest attempt but her character seems truly out of place - even in the locality she is shown to reside. In contrast, the folks playing Sid's friends (Rishi and Lakhsmi in particular) and other colleagues at office seem real and tailored for the cause.
The music, coming from the inventive trio of Shankar-Ehsaan-Loy, is soulful. Ek tara does for this film what Sapno se bhare Naina did for Luck by Chance - the lead singer Kavita Seth is simply outstanding - note her stress the words "boond boond" "moond moond" in Ek Tara: simply beyond words.
Well done Sid! Keep it up!
And a big thanks to Karan Johar for being such a sensitive producer in recent times - a job he's naturally and genetically cut out for...and needs no direction (no pun intended)
But given the familiar backdrop, director Ayan Mukherji tells an unusual love story of an equally unusual pair: the seasoned Konkona Sen Sharma and the promising Ranbir Kapoor striking a charming celluloid chemistry.
He's the pampered kid of a rich dad, she's the new girl in the big city - she's amused by his earthy charm and zest for life, he's enamoured by her resolve and clarity of purpose. The mutual respect unknowingly binds them in a relationship that grows beyond friendship but falls short of love. Both are baked in the reality of this elusive bond until one fine day, the pressure cooker whistles the triumph of true love.
Mukherjee employs the same popular motifs from the Bollywood factory - prime among them being a hardly-at-home dad with his mandatory rags-to-riches accomplishments, a caring-doting-forgiving mom showering 24/7 love and a man friday serving-with-a-smile 7 days a week.
But he is dexterous in portraying the subtle journey of the protagonists - how their larger commonalities condone the apparent contrasts finally to merge into a common goal. In reality, such love stories may be highly unlikely but the film leaves you yearning for them. The story floats aimelessly in the middle but the director shows great command over his medium in rearranging disparate pieces that make a complete frame in the end.
Ranbir is superlative as Sid - his confidence is striking, so is his emotive ability. He's one of the very few star-actors around who believe in underplay and are good at it too. Even his seemingly inconsequential gestures and interactions tell volumes about Sid's beliefs and idiosyncrasies.
Konkona, as always, is excellent - both of them unfold the chaos and confusion of their respective characters with aplomb and authority. There are umpteen moments when their eyes speak a thousand words in the film.
Rahul Khanna makes for a refreshing guest appreance, playing a part that he was naturally cut out for. Anupam Kher as the dad does full justice to the limited screen moments that come his way, Supriya Pathak as the mother is passable - her humour clearly falling short of the intended effect.
Kashmira Shah (remember her?) emerges from a long exile - her sex siren is a forced visual distraction. She does make an honest attempt but her character seems truly out of place - even in the locality she is shown to reside. In contrast, the folks playing Sid's friends (Rishi and Lakhsmi in particular) and other colleagues at office seem real and tailored for the cause.
The music, coming from the inventive trio of Shankar-Ehsaan-Loy, is soulful. Ek tara does for this film what Sapno se bhare Naina did for Luck by Chance - the lead singer Kavita Seth is simply outstanding - note her stress the words "boond boond" "moond moond" in Ek Tara: simply beyond words.
Well done Sid! Keep it up!
And a big thanks to Karan Johar for being such a sensitive producer in recent times - a job he's naturally and genetically cut out for...and needs no direction (no pun intended)
Thursday, September 24, 2009
Humour Sans Uniform
Vinay Kanchan is a true maverick. His refreshing work "The Madness starts at 9" is an hilarious take on the glorified circus run by advertising agencies but the arresting analogies can be easily extended to just about any industry that employs people.
Employing the lethal weapon of humour, Kanchan cuts an enduring slice of pathos in his narrative - how the word "creative" is abused in umpteen forms and modes, how the workplace is a grand orcheastration of motives, how hierarchies come with unwrit rules of conduct and camaraderie and how most troubles brew - thanks to how and when you said it, not what and how you did it...
In less than 200 pages, Kanchan brings you the choicest trouble beans brewing in the agency farm as its diverse species - owners, bosses, creative, planning & media heads, client servicing folks, freshers and trainees - get involved in disparate interactions - focus-group discusssions, media reviews, interviews and appraisals.
Also starring are members of the value chain like headhunters, and above all clients - the real patrons of the jamboree.
Obviously, Kanchan has seen it happening all around him but what's exemplary is the quality of his detachment in sharing deep insights that never sound prescriptive - and yet command universal appeal.
The humour is superlative throughout, save for the din of repitition that the mythical character "Chai La" and his over-rhymed sermons cause towards the end. Also, the author's obsession with word play is distracting at times...(with quips like "Let's not anda-estimate him" linked to a breakfast of scrambled eggs)
The author's note reads "I embark upon trying to give every poor new sod entering this hostile world a bit of hope and an unnecessary amount of perspective" The tiny hope and huge perspective are both more valuable than the tons of garbage that get rolled out every year in the name of management thought.
Page after page, Kanchan keeps us in spilts but lurking in the laughter is a tear or two of self-springing realization. It's indeed sad that modern-day organizations are on a redefining spree of a different kind - making flexibilty more and more rigid, turning creativity into a mythical concept and carving autonomy in a feudal mould.
In a recent newspaper column, the author observes:
"There are quite a few organizations where the term "creative" is associated with the output of the advertising agency.In these bleak economic times, this is an extremely dangerous assumption"
Couldn't have been put better.
That Kanchan is an independant creative thinking trainer spells great news for an industry drugged to inaction by an intimidating army of mollycoddled "consultants" and their "best-in-class" sermons of "holistic thinking" and "value-added service"
Employing the lethal weapon of humour, Kanchan cuts an enduring slice of pathos in his narrative - how the word "creative" is abused in umpteen forms and modes, how the workplace is a grand orcheastration of motives, how hierarchies come with unwrit rules of conduct and camaraderie and how most troubles brew - thanks to how and when you said it, not what and how you did it...
In less than 200 pages, Kanchan brings you the choicest trouble beans brewing in the agency farm as its diverse species - owners, bosses, creative, planning & media heads, client servicing folks, freshers and trainees - get involved in disparate interactions - focus-group discusssions, media reviews, interviews and appraisals.
Also starring are members of the value chain like headhunters, and above all clients - the real patrons of the jamboree.
Obviously, Kanchan has seen it happening all around him but what's exemplary is the quality of his detachment in sharing deep insights that never sound prescriptive - and yet command universal appeal.
The humour is superlative throughout, save for the din of repitition that the mythical character "Chai La" and his over-rhymed sermons cause towards the end. Also, the author's obsession with word play is distracting at times...(with quips like "Let's not anda-estimate him" linked to a breakfast of scrambled eggs)
The author's note reads "I embark upon trying to give every poor new sod entering this hostile world a bit of hope and an unnecessary amount of perspective" The tiny hope and huge perspective are both more valuable than the tons of garbage that get rolled out every year in the name of management thought.
Page after page, Kanchan keeps us in spilts but lurking in the laughter is a tear or two of self-springing realization. It's indeed sad that modern-day organizations are on a redefining spree of a different kind - making flexibilty more and more rigid, turning creativity into a mythical concept and carving autonomy in a feudal mould.
In a recent newspaper column, the author observes:
"There are quite a few organizations where the term "creative" is associated with the output of the advertising agency.In these bleak economic times, this is an extremely dangerous assumption"
Couldn't have been put better.
That Kanchan is an independant creative thinking trainer spells great news for an industry drugged to inaction by an intimidating army of mollycoddled "consultants" and their "best-in-class" sermons of "holistic thinking" and "value-added service"
Saturday, September 19, 2009
Doctored intensity
"Rita" - actress Renuka Shahane's directorial debut based on Shanta Gokhale's novel "Rita Welinkar" - is the story of a sensitive, selfless girl called Rita.
Struggle and sacrifice are her constant companions right from her formative years. Yet, she bears the burden with a smile. Employment brings her financial independence coupled with the patronizing warmth of an unlikely lover Vittal Salvi - this makes her a non-conformist of sorts and she's determined to wage a silent war with the world. She expects the same devil-may-care attitude from Salvi who tentatively harbours his timid love story outside the cocoon of a conventional married life. His love is genuine but so is his need for social acknowledgement.
This reality of her love life is bursting at the seams, and ultimately one day, it explodes...Rita suffers a nervous breakdown. With the reassuring support of her childhood friend, she begins her second innings - this time, without the cushion of illusion and wishful thinking.
Despite such an intrsopective theme, the film thoroughly disappoints: The cinematic transition is jerky, leaving many gaps that the linguistic narrative is likely to have flowered in commensurate depth.
The movie merely "relays" the intensity of its subject matter - frame after frame - but the contextual thread is clearly amiss. The consequence is obvious: the "viewer" is left gasping for breath - trying to make sense of the extreme perspectives of several characters surrounding Rita - her comically villanish dad and an overtly snobbish mom above all. Emotions sway in motion all over the place but they don't seem to connect any dots in the viewer's mind. Rita's own locus standi appears hazy, at times even misleading.
Clearly, Shahane fails to handpick the cinematic milestones of Rita's life - the film struggles to move back and forth through the protagonist's letter to her friend but the buildup lacks strength. The story is somehow forced to culmination, simply because it had to end at some point. In fact every single frame following Rita's discharge from the asylum bears the potential to be the last.
There are scenes, there are players, they make stage-like screen appearances, play their parts and fade away before you have time to reel in the effect. Worse, the hurried approach adds a rather comic flavour to the whole script - nothing can be more fatal for a supposedly intense film.
A medicore support cast makes the going tougher - a jaded Dr. Agashe (in what could be one of his worst screen portrayals), the ever-loud and gawdy Suhasini Mulay, the highly monotonous Sai Tamhankar, the ridiculously average Tushar Dalvi (that he's a known pet of almost all offbeat film makers beats me) all erode value in equal measure.
Renuka herself looks rather cut-off from the story's mainstream - her bond with the protagonist seems the most crucial in the film and yet shares the least space. Playing a marginal part is fine but why marginalize the role? Makarand Deshpande breathes some life but unfortunately makes a guest appearance.
Time and again, we have seen most of the film makers ignore the vital role that the so-called junior artists play in making a film real and convincing. Rita is no exception - doctors & nurses, fellow inmates of the asylum, nosy neighbours, school teachers, office staff, Salvi's family members....all smack of the usual mediocrity that inevitably mars the film's credibility. We thought Shahane could have been different at least on this count.
Jackie Shroff in his maiden Marathi appearence, makes an honest effort but his gestures seem retarded - barring a couple of scenes, his presence is hardly felt.
Pallavi Joshi does a commendable job in sketching Rita's journey of despair and despodence even in the adhoc frames. If she seems inconsistent every now and then, it's more the weak script to blame. Almost all her dialogues are effortless - bearing the stamp of an accomplished actress. For a change, it was heartening to see her detached from her glorified Saregamapa avataar (a "reality show" victim in the bazaar of big bucks staged by mobile telecom providers and TV channels)
The music score is average - overdoing the classcial vocal in the background. The camera moves swiftly - the moving tyre closeup, the windshield vision, the overhead longshots...all look refreshing but remain a visual innovation at best.
If the very attempt to handle an offbeat subject is worthy of praise, Shahane deserves all of it. But her sincere effort notwithstanding, the intensity appears doctored. That the film motivates the viewer to read the novel seems its biggest achievement.
Shahane would do well to learn from Zoya Akhtar - who did a more competent job with her maiden venture - Luck By Chance. We only hope Shahane's directorial journey has just begun. Looking forward to the next one from her stable...
Struggle and sacrifice are her constant companions right from her formative years. Yet, she bears the burden with a smile. Employment brings her financial independence coupled with the patronizing warmth of an unlikely lover Vittal Salvi - this makes her a non-conformist of sorts and she's determined to wage a silent war with the world. She expects the same devil-may-care attitude from Salvi who tentatively harbours his timid love story outside the cocoon of a conventional married life. His love is genuine but so is his need for social acknowledgement.
This reality of her love life is bursting at the seams, and ultimately one day, it explodes...Rita suffers a nervous breakdown. With the reassuring support of her childhood friend, she begins her second innings - this time, without the cushion of illusion and wishful thinking.
Despite such an intrsopective theme, the film thoroughly disappoints: The cinematic transition is jerky, leaving many gaps that the linguistic narrative is likely to have flowered in commensurate depth.
The movie merely "relays" the intensity of its subject matter - frame after frame - but the contextual thread is clearly amiss. The consequence is obvious: the "viewer" is left gasping for breath - trying to make sense of the extreme perspectives of several characters surrounding Rita - her comically villanish dad and an overtly snobbish mom above all. Emotions sway in motion all over the place but they don't seem to connect any dots in the viewer's mind. Rita's own locus standi appears hazy, at times even misleading.
Clearly, Shahane fails to handpick the cinematic milestones of Rita's life - the film struggles to move back and forth through the protagonist's letter to her friend but the buildup lacks strength. The story is somehow forced to culmination, simply because it had to end at some point. In fact every single frame following Rita's discharge from the asylum bears the potential to be the last.
There are scenes, there are players, they make stage-like screen appearances, play their parts and fade away before you have time to reel in the effect. Worse, the hurried approach adds a rather comic flavour to the whole script - nothing can be more fatal for a supposedly intense film.
A medicore support cast makes the going tougher - a jaded Dr. Agashe (in what could be one of his worst screen portrayals), the ever-loud and gawdy Suhasini Mulay, the highly monotonous Sai Tamhankar, the ridiculously average Tushar Dalvi (that he's a known pet of almost all offbeat film makers beats me) all erode value in equal measure.
Renuka herself looks rather cut-off from the story's mainstream - her bond with the protagonist seems the most crucial in the film and yet shares the least space. Playing a marginal part is fine but why marginalize the role? Makarand Deshpande breathes some life but unfortunately makes a guest appearance.
Time and again, we have seen most of the film makers ignore the vital role that the so-called junior artists play in making a film real and convincing. Rita is no exception - doctors & nurses, fellow inmates of the asylum, nosy neighbours, school teachers, office staff, Salvi's family members....all smack of the usual mediocrity that inevitably mars the film's credibility. We thought Shahane could have been different at least on this count.
Jackie Shroff in his maiden Marathi appearence, makes an honest effort but his gestures seem retarded - barring a couple of scenes, his presence is hardly felt.
Pallavi Joshi does a commendable job in sketching Rita's journey of despair and despodence even in the adhoc frames. If she seems inconsistent every now and then, it's more the weak script to blame. Almost all her dialogues are effortless - bearing the stamp of an accomplished actress. For a change, it was heartening to see her detached from her glorified Saregamapa avataar (a "reality show" victim in the bazaar of big bucks staged by mobile telecom providers and TV channels)
The music score is average - overdoing the classcial vocal in the background. The camera moves swiftly - the moving tyre closeup, the windshield vision, the overhead longshots...all look refreshing but remain a visual innovation at best.
If the very attempt to handle an offbeat subject is worthy of praise, Shahane deserves all of it. But her sincere effort notwithstanding, the intensity appears doctored. That the film motivates the viewer to read the novel seems its biggest achievement.
Shahane would do well to learn from Zoya Akhtar - who did a more competent job with her maiden venture - Luck By Chance. We only hope Shahane's directorial journey has just begun. Looking forward to the next one from her stable...
Tuesday, September 01, 2009
Karnataka again
Addiction hardly needs a reason....precisely why we got back to Karnataka again within a space of 10 months - a scenic remote place called Algaar near Moodbidri to be precise - home to the sprawling Annapoorneshwari temple with its 61-feet Hanuman statue - the engineering marvel, a real fitting tribute to the living God.
Neither is Karnataka my home town, nor is the temple goddess our "authorized" deity - but the pull is simply beyond words..the magnetism challenging all convention governing the concept of hometowns and family roots.
So off we went again - myself, wife and kiddo in our Maruti 800 - in what was a fulfilling encore - this time, via Pune to attend an official meeting en route.
Friday 4.00 am
We left Pune, from the cozy bungalow of my partner friend. Within no time, we were speeding on the elegant and comfortable NH4 route towards Bangalore, the early morning chill making the journey highly introspective. Soon, it began raining heavily and for some time, visibility was poor - till we crossed Satara. It was around 8 when we stopped for breakfast at Hotel Pankaj, Karad. The food was delicious - esp. the wada sambar!
We resumed with renewed vigour and passed Islampur and kolhapur to enter Belgaum - the border town applauding our entry into Karnataka - Dharwad came and went by and past noon, we reached Hubli - the NH4 on this side is mediocre and the quality suffers - probably on account of a different contractor in charge.
Here, we changed tracks to follow the highly scenic NH 63 that bridges NH 4 and the coastal NH 17 - from Hubli to Ankola. A MUST-HAVE experience! The start from Hubli side is narrow but as the journey progresses, you soar sky high - such is the breathtaking voyage - a rare blend of modern-day road and scenic natural splendour all around. It was under some lush green cover that we consumed our staple home-made lunch of methi theplas and green chutney. The time was 1.30 pm.
By the time we covered the entire NH 63 stretch - it was 4 and we were at Ankola - the scenic coastal town on NH 17. Here, we stopped for tea break at Kamat's (Kamat's Uphaar becomes Kamat's Upchaar here) and while gulping the over boiled tea from the half-washed glass, we enquired about good hotels for the overnight halt. I had googled on the list of hotels on this route before the journey - and the waiter only confirmed the names. We zeroed in on Pandurang International of Kumtha (more for the "think local, act global" connotation)- but the Hotel is perfect for en route stay - clean, hygenic,simple...and no fancy claims.
We checked in at 5.30 pm and had an early dinner to call it a day. The next morning, we left at 7 am way ahead on NH 17 towards Udupi - stopping only at Bhatkal for breakfast. The cashier and the waiter at Hotel Sreenivas were more than prompt in service.
NH 17 is damaged beyond recogntion, if not repair and it was almost 10 when we reached Udupi. In the earlier tour, we had managed to cover Panaji- Udupi in 8 hours. The fag end downpour of August and the burden of heavy vehicles have contributed in equal measure to the road damage. The way your car sways to each side makes the journey akin to a boat ride.
From Udupi, we took the Manipal route to Karkala, through an under-construction road full of irritating diversions. But as we ventured ahead, the road became scenic again. We had to ask for directions to Moodbidri but the locals were ever-ready to help - a twinkle in their eyes reserved for the unlikely off-season tourists. Most of them believe in a "live and let live" policy and throw a generous sprinkling of humour in their conversation - be it the road side vendors, temple sculptors or the country residents.
SH 13 on Mangalore - karkala route took us to Algaar - our destination for this trip - the Annapoorneshwari temple. We were in the temple for less than an hour but the bliss seems eternal. No ceremonies to perform, no boons to seek! Just the bliss of the sheer presence. This temple is the brainchild of Jairam Heggade, an NRI settled in Oman, we learnt later. Mr. Heggade, thanks for gifting this great monument to the country.
On our way back, we ate the wholesome local staple food of brown rice,sambar, vegetable and curd at Hotel Golden Star, Algaar. Now began the drive back home and we never realised how difficult it was going to get. We got back to Udupi via Padbidri on NH 17 and followed the way towards Kumtha. But even as we crossed Bhatkal, a heavy downpour caused a mayhem on the damaged roads - the driving witnessing every possible challenge - dangerous potholes lurking in the muddy pools, poor visibilty at dusk, rash drivers approaching from every side, casual pedestrians blocking the way at each junction....on one or two occasions, I had to gate crash my car off the road to escape the wrath of a couple of bus drivers charging from the wrong end. Had we known that such dangers waited to greet us with open arms, we would not have wasted our time shopping in Kundapur and the stroll on the Marvanthe seashore.
It was 8 pm when we reached the hotel at Kumtha - the drive will remain etched in memory for the sheer adventure. We had a hurried dinner, and slept like a log.
5.00 am, Kumtha
We took the NH 63 again - killing the temptation of entering Goa through Karwar, stopping just before Hubli for tea and snacks at a roadside stall. The stall owner was the unlikely receipient of the temple parasadam and I thoroughy enjoyed my conversation with him - a sensitive guy overwhelmed by the sudden early morning visitors from Mumbai - taking out the best of tea cups from a dark corner of his hut-like shop to celebrate the occasion.
Little did he know that his visitor was just another EMI-victim from the big city - leading a vulnerable, post-dated existence typical of modern life of high loans and mighty moans. The monetary gift that we extended cannot change his fortunes but his eyes showed 24-carat gratitude at the gesture!
Once at Hubli, we were back on the comfortable NH 4 with its numerous but well-worth tolls. We chose Belgaum for the overnight halt - at Hotel Keerti in the main town..the hotel was poor in hospitality but clean & hygienic all the same.
A leisurely walk through the Belgaum market (for the purchase of special sweet Belgaavi kunda) was rejuvenating. The evening was spent in the august company of Kingfisher lager.
5.00 am, Hotel Keerti, Belguam
The last leg of our journey back home began as we sped on NH 4 towards Kolhapur with only a tea break at 7. 30. We stopped for breakfast at Sai International, Yelur near Islampur - a perfect place for long route travellers. The food is delicious and we also found the quality of accomodation to be above average. Unfortunately, we were running out of budget and time, else it was worth a night's stay.
We took a diversion off Satara to visit the Hanuman idols at the historic Chaapal, bastion of the great Swami Ramdas - mentor of the Maratha warrior Shivaji.
The time was 11 am when we left Chaapal and were back on NH 4 to reach Pune by 12.30 pm. Here, the search for a good food joint proved surprsingly tiresome and we finally settled on an average restaurant adjoining a petrol pump. This city is fast losing its charm and the crowd here even at odd hours puts Mumbai to shame.
We somehow gathered our spirits back and entered the fast but monotonous express way - two and a half hours later, we were at Panvel and the usual bland way took us to our home at Ghodbunder Road, Thane (in the lap of nature, we can still claim, though the green cover around us is fast depleting)
The next trip, we plan to cover Goa, Karnataka and Kerala...a long cherished dream - middle class in style but top class in aspiration. Till then...
Neither is Karnataka my home town, nor is the temple goddess our "authorized" deity - but the pull is simply beyond words..the magnetism challenging all convention governing the concept of hometowns and family roots.
So off we went again - myself, wife and kiddo in our Maruti 800 - in what was a fulfilling encore - this time, via Pune to attend an official meeting en route.
Friday 4.00 am
We left Pune, from the cozy bungalow of my partner friend. Within no time, we were speeding on the elegant and comfortable NH4 route towards Bangalore, the early morning chill making the journey highly introspective. Soon, it began raining heavily and for some time, visibility was poor - till we crossed Satara. It was around 8 when we stopped for breakfast at Hotel Pankaj, Karad. The food was delicious - esp. the wada sambar!
We resumed with renewed vigour and passed Islampur and kolhapur to enter Belgaum - the border town applauding our entry into Karnataka - Dharwad came and went by and past noon, we reached Hubli - the NH4 on this side is mediocre and the quality suffers - probably on account of a different contractor in charge.
Here, we changed tracks to follow the highly scenic NH 63 that bridges NH 4 and the coastal NH 17 - from Hubli to Ankola. A MUST-HAVE experience! The start from Hubli side is narrow but as the journey progresses, you soar sky high - such is the breathtaking voyage - a rare blend of modern-day road and scenic natural splendour all around. It was under some lush green cover that we consumed our staple home-made lunch of methi theplas and green chutney. The time was 1.30 pm.
By the time we covered the entire NH 63 stretch - it was 4 and we were at Ankola - the scenic coastal town on NH 17. Here, we stopped for tea break at Kamat's (Kamat's Uphaar becomes Kamat's Upchaar here) and while gulping the over boiled tea from the half-washed glass, we enquired about good hotels for the overnight halt. I had googled on the list of hotels on this route before the journey - and the waiter only confirmed the names. We zeroed in on Pandurang International of Kumtha (more for the "think local, act global" connotation)- but the Hotel is perfect for en route stay - clean, hygenic,simple...and no fancy claims.
We checked in at 5.30 pm and had an early dinner to call it a day. The next morning, we left at 7 am way ahead on NH 17 towards Udupi - stopping only at Bhatkal for breakfast. The cashier and the waiter at Hotel Sreenivas were more than prompt in service.
NH 17 is damaged beyond recogntion, if not repair and it was almost 10 when we reached Udupi. In the earlier tour, we had managed to cover Panaji- Udupi in 8 hours. The fag end downpour of August and the burden of heavy vehicles have contributed in equal measure to the road damage. The way your car sways to each side makes the journey akin to a boat ride.
From Udupi, we took the Manipal route to Karkala, through an under-construction road full of irritating diversions. But as we ventured ahead, the road became scenic again. We had to ask for directions to Moodbidri but the locals were ever-ready to help - a twinkle in their eyes reserved for the unlikely off-season tourists. Most of them believe in a "live and let live" policy and throw a generous sprinkling of humour in their conversation - be it the road side vendors, temple sculptors or the country residents.
SH 13 on Mangalore - karkala route took us to Algaar - our destination for this trip - the Annapoorneshwari temple. We were in the temple for less than an hour but the bliss seems eternal. No ceremonies to perform, no boons to seek! Just the bliss of the sheer presence. This temple is the brainchild of Jairam Heggade, an NRI settled in Oman, we learnt later. Mr. Heggade, thanks for gifting this great monument to the country.
On our way back, we ate the wholesome local staple food of brown rice,sambar, vegetable and curd at Hotel Golden Star, Algaar. Now began the drive back home and we never realised how difficult it was going to get. We got back to Udupi via Padbidri on NH 17 and followed the way towards Kumtha. But even as we crossed Bhatkal, a heavy downpour caused a mayhem on the damaged roads - the driving witnessing every possible challenge - dangerous potholes lurking in the muddy pools, poor visibilty at dusk, rash drivers approaching from every side, casual pedestrians blocking the way at each junction....on one or two occasions, I had to gate crash my car off the road to escape the wrath of a couple of bus drivers charging from the wrong end. Had we known that such dangers waited to greet us with open arms, we would not have wasted our time shopping in Kundapur and the stroll on the Marvanthe seashore.
It was 8 pm when we reached the hotel at Kumtha - the drive will remain etched in memory for the sheer adventure. We had a hurried dinner, and slept like a log.
5.00 am, Kumtha
We took the NH 63 again - killing the temptation of entering Goa through Karwar, stopping just before Hubli for tea and snacks at a roadside stall. The stall owner was the unlikely receipient of the temple parasadam and I thoroughy enjoyed my conversation with him - a sensitive guy overwhelmed by the sudden early morning visitors from Mumbai - taking out the best of tea cups from a dark corner of his hut-like shop to celebrate the occasion.
Little did he know that his visitor was just another EMI-victim from the big city - leading a vulnerable, post-dated existence typical of modern life of high loans and mighty moans. The monetary gift that we extended cannot change his fortunes but his eyes showed 24-carat gratitude at the gesture!
Once at Hubli, we were back on the comfortable NH 4 with its numerous but well-worth tolls. We chose Belgaum for the overnight halt - at Hotel Keerti in the main town..the hotel was poor in hospitality but clean & hygienic all the same.
A leisurely walk through the Belgaum market (for the purchase of special sweet Belgaavi kunda) was rejuvenating. The evening was spent in the august company of Kingfisher lager.
5.00 am, Hotel Keerti, Belguam
The last leg of our journey back home began as we sped on NH 4 towards Kolhapur with only a tea break at 7. 30. We stopped for breakfast at Sai International, Yelur near Islampur - a perfect place for long route travellers. The food is delicious and we also found the quality of accomodation to be above average. Unfortunately, we were running out of budget and time, else it was worth a night's stay.
We took a diversion off Satara to visit the Hanuman idols at the historic Chaapal, bastion of the great Swami Ramdas - mentor of the Maratha warrior Shivaji.
The time was 11 am when we left Chaapal and were back on NH 4 to reach Pune by 12.30 pm. Here, the search for a good food joint proved surprsingly tiresome and we finally settled on an average restaurant adjoining a petrol pump. This city is fast losing its charm and the crowd here even at odd hours puts Mumbai to shame.
We somehow gathered our spirits back and entered the fast but monotonous express way - two and a half hours later, we were at Panvel and the usual bland way took us to our home at Ghodbunder Road, Thane (in the lap of nature, we can still claim, though the green cover around us is fast depleting)
The next trip, we plan to cover Goa, Karnataka and Kerala...a long cherished dream - middle class in style but top class in aspiration. Till then...
Monday, July 27, 2009
Parallel Tracks
Date: Out of memory
Time: 10.30 am
Location: Bandra Railway station
I was part of the usual suburban train circus of Mumbai - fighting for space and survival. The train had just left Khar and suddenly the crowd dispersed, making the footboard seem like an oasis of comfort.
As I filled the fresh air in my lungs, I noticed two gentlemen clung to the iron rod above the seats adjoining the footboard wall, both middle-aged and weary.
They were lost in some deep conversation and the matter seemed grave. The language was Marathi and my curiosity was needlessly on the rise - like it does when you have nothing worthwhile to do. I tuned in, and carefully tried to pick the sound bytes of their radio station.
"At this age, it would be difficult to get a job" one lamented.
"True,but why should you find one? It's your son's turn now, mate" said the other.
"Aaaah!, my son" came the sarcastic remark:
"The Lord wants to get into business. As if he's a Dhirubhai Ambani. Lazy bum"
They both shared a hearty laugh, wholesome outside, hollow inside. The note of resignation was evident.
"Did you chase accounts for the PF and gratuity formalities?" cautioned the advisor.
"Jadhav is a slow coach, you know that"
The answer came in an affirmative gesture - half-awake to the reality of the "slow moving" accountant Jadhav and half-aware of the impending doom of a retired life.
Both looked pensive and fumbling for words. From the looks of it, the advisor seemed close on the heels of the retiring colleague - his expression seemed to say
"I hate to admit but your fate would be mine soon"
Just at that time, a shapely female - probably a collegian - came in their line of sight as they glanced at the platform. She seemed to be in a hurry, trying to reach the stairs of the over bridge before the high tide of busy commuters caused a mayhem.
"Ahh ahhhhh" exclaimed both of our friends in unison, their eyes transfixed on the prominent peaks of her anatomy.
"Slowly go, my darling madam, my lovely heroine, ###@@@^^^... "
They teased her aloud in their "English" reserved for special occasions and locations:
An old jungle saying of this tribe - when fooling around with South Indians and Christians or moving around in Bandra and South Mumbai, ENGLISH IS MUST BOSS!
The girl obviously had no time to acknowledge the lusty sermon. She disappeared in the ocean of people after throwing an admonishing look.
As soon as the train left Bandra, our friends were back on the previous track of gloom - in a flash.
"How is your mother doing? Is the diabetes in control? I tell you, this Jadhav...........
I couldn't follow the conversation after that...shell shocked that I was by the sheer agility of their mood swing.
One moment of genuine lament, another of unabashed lust...Mixed emotions running sequential but almost on parallel tracks. Where did this super sonic response system sprout from?
Is that to do with the rigour of city life?...a life that has no room for transitions..where disparate emotions are forced to share scanty space? ...
Or is the monotony of a working class life to blame, one that seeks respite in the occasional lewd antic? A dark secret to be relished in public moments of private ecstacy...
Even as these questions bothered me, our friends seemed unperturbed.
For them perhaps, this was just another moment of just another day.
Time: 10.30 am
Location: Bandra Railway station
I was part of the usual suburban train circus of Mumbai - fighting for space and survival. The train had just left Khar and suddenly the crowd dispersed, making the footboard seem like an oasis of comfort.
As I filled the fresh air in my lungs, I noticed two gentlemen clung to the iron rod above the seats adjoining the footboard wall, both middle-aged and weary.
They were lost in some deep conversation and the matter seemed grave. The language was Marathi and my curiosity was needlessly on the rise - like it does when you have nothing worthwhile to do. I tuned in, and carefully tried to pick the sound bytes of their radio station.
"At this age, it would be difficult to get a job" one lamented.
"True,but why should you find one? It's your son's turn now, mate" said the other.
"Aaaah!, my son" came the sarcastic remark:
"The Lord wants to get into business. As if he's a Dhirubhai Ambani. Lazy bum"
They both shared a hearty laugh, wholesome outside, hollow inside. The note of resignation was evident.
"Did you chase accounts for the PF and gratuity formalities?" cautioned the advisor.
"Jadhav is a slow coach, you know that"
The answer came in an affirmative gesture - half-awake to the reality of the "slow moving" accountant Jadhav and half-aware of the impending doom of a retired life.
Both looked pensive and fumbling for words. From the looks of it, the advisor seemed close on the heels of the retiring colleague - his expression seemed to say
"I hate to admit but your fate would be mine soon"
Just at that time, a shapely female - probably a collegian - came in their line of sight as they glanced at the platform. She seemed to be in a hurry, trying to reach the stairs of the over bridge before the high tide of busy commuters caused a mayhem.
"Ahh ahhhhh" exclaimed both of our friends in unison, their eyes transfixed on the prominent peaks of her anatomy.
"Slowly go, my darling madam, my lovely heroine, ###@@@^^^... "
They teased her aloud in their "English" reserved for special occasions and locations:
An old jungle saying of this tribe - when fooling around with South Indians and Christians or moving around in Bandra and South Mumbai, ENGLISH IS MUST BOSS!
The girl obviously had no time to acknowledge the lusty sermon. She disappeared in the ocean of people after throwing an admonishing look.
As soon as the train left Bandra, our friends were back on the previous track of gloom - in a flash.
"How is your mother doing? Is the diabetes in control? I tell you, this Jadhav...........
I couldn't follow the conversation after that...shell shocked that I was by the sheer agility of their mood swing.
One moment of genuine lament, another of unabashed lust...Mixed emotions running sequential but almost on parallel tracks. Where did this super sonic response system sprout from?
Is that to do with the rigour of city life?...a life that has no room for transitions..where disparate emotions are forced to share scanty space? ...
Or is the monotony of a working class life to blame, one that seeks respite in the occasional lewd antic? A dark secret to be relished in public moments of private ecstacy...
Even as these questions bothered me, our friends seemed unperturbed.
For them perhaps, this was just another moment of just another day.
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
The essence of Role Plays - An Indian perspective
Aptly used, corporate acting, role playing to be more precise, is a powerful tool to address a host of people issues - both within the personal and professional sphere.
The essence is in re-creating business situations based on client specifications to unearth the elusive human element wrapped in business interactions.
More often than not, the patterns that emerge challenge convention and fuel innovation.
Measurable business value is guaranteed, provided the “learnings” are conveyed to the target audience as an integral part of the enactment - plotting the refinement road map for individuals/groups.
The actors play a vital role as the conveyers – they have to “breathe” the roles they play – whether a disgruntled employee, pompous manager, matter-of-fact project manager or a patronizing business owner.
The art is to release enough clues through the enactment such that the session is not subjected to sudden jerks, periods of lull or derailment. If the actor “plays to the gallery” or is seeking applause, the session becomes self defeating.
It’s imperative that the actors should be well aware of the dynamics of corporate situations – routine and otherwise. An emphasis on grasping the domain and technological specs of the work environment proves highly rewarding – as the participants gain momentum only when the actor begins to “speaks their language”
A good actor salvages a near-hopeless situation by shrewdly keeping the conversation on track with a great sprinkling of wit and wisdom.
A good actor subtly helps participants with clues for better performance.
Typical Role Play designs
Interviews - Developing sensitive, focused and business-centric interviewers
Induction - Bridging the academia-industry divide to enhance the transition to the workplace
Difficult situations - How to convey the “bad” news with grace, how to minimize the “stress” associated with an “exit”, how to inculcate the right work culture, how to promote ethics at the work place
Appraisals - How to eliminate acrimony among groups and improve camaraderie for effective performance management
Change management - How to inculcate the desired culture across the enterprise in ripple-causing situations like M & As, takeovers, technology adoption, diversification and business fluctuations
Learning by experience
The sessions conveying the importance of brevity and preciseness of role play sessions to participants should be more elaborate. Else, many participants seem lost on defining the purpose of the role play session, even if they do it successfully, they are not able to drive it with conviction.
Role players need to be conveyed with more clarity that this media is not for displaying their acting prowess, but for “living” the role of a guinea pig which subtly helps participants understand the hidden aspects of day-to-day human interactions and emotions .
Since the participants are the ambassadors of the program, it would be a good idea to recognize good performance, such that the good word spreads across the organization – this will help convey the message that role plays deliver measurable business value , it’s not a mere fun session. It will also help minimize the popular contempt against this tool as being a “non-business” pastime.
Even though the role players need not grasp the depth of the domain/technical knowledge, a curtain raiser can be arranged by the facilitators for a quick summary of the essence of the role.
The observers can be powered to with more authority to be able to control and monitor off-track and derailed situations rather than citing them in offline conversations.
The essence is in re-creating business situations based on client specifications to unearth the elusive human element wrapped in business interactions.
More often than not, the patterns that emerge challenge convention and fuel innovation.
Measurable business value is guaranteed, provided the “learnings” are conveyed to the target audience as an integral part of the enactment - plotting the refinement road map for individuals/groups.
The actors play a vital role as the conveyers – they have to “breathe” the roles they play – whether a disgruntled employee, pompous manager, matter-of-fact project manager or a patronizing business owner.
The art is to release enough clues through the enactment such that the session is not subjected to sudden jerks, periods of lull or derailment. If the actor “plays to the gallery” or is seeking applause, the session becomes self defeating.
It’s imperative that the actors should be well aware of the dynamics of corporate situations – routine and otherwise. An emphasis on grasping the domain and technological specs of the work environment proves highly rewarding – as the participants gain momentum only when the actor begins to “speaks their language”
A good actor salvages a near-hopeless situation by shrewdly keeping the conversation on track with a great sprinkling of wit and wisdom.
A good actor subtly helps participants with clues for better performance.
Typical Role Play designs
Interviews - Developing sensitive, focused and business-centric interviewers
Induction - Bridging the academia-industry divide to enhance the transition to the workplace
Difficult situations - How to convey the “bad” news with grace, how to minimize the “stress” associated with an “exit”, how to inculcate the right work culture, how to promote ethics at the work place
Appraisals - How to eliminate acrimony among groups and improve camaraderie for effective performance management
Change management - How to inculcate the desired culture across the enterprise in ripple-causing situations like M & As, takeovers, technology adoption, diversification and business fluctuations
Learning by experience
The sessions conveying the importance of brevity and preciseness of role play sessions to participants should be more elaborate. Else, many participants seem lost on defining the purpose of the role play session, even if they do it successfully, they are not able to drive it with conviction.
Role players need to be conveyed with more clarity that this media is not for displaying their acting prowess, but for “living” the role of a guinea pig which subtly helps participants understand the hidden aspects of day-to-day human interactions and emotions .
Since the participants are the ambassadors of the program, it would be a good idea to recognize good performance, such that the good word spreads across the organization – this will help convey the message that role plays deliver measurable business value , it’s not a mere fun session. It will also help minimize the popular contempt against this tool as being a “non-business” pastime.
Even though the role players need not grasp the depth of the domain/technical knowledge, a curtain raiser can be arranged by the facilitators for a quick summary of the essence of the role.
The observers can be powered to with more authority to be able to control and monitor off-track and derailed situations rather than citing them in offline conversations.
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