Tooth or Dare: My Tribal Encounter in the Dentist’s Chair

They say dentists are the only people who can make your mouth feel like a construction zone while smiling politely. And oh, how true that is! You walk in hoping for a simple cleaning and before you know it, there’s a vibrating drill jackhammering away like you’re prepping for roadwork on Main Street - inside your face. Yet, through all this, your dentist flashes that reassuring grin, as if to say, “Relax, we’re just reinforcing the foundation.”

People seriously underestimate these folks. Sure, we nod and thank them at checkouts like they’ve just handed us a grocery bill, but deep down, dentists are the unsung warriors of modern life.

And trust me, they’re not just polishing teeth—they’re fortifying your very existence...

The Unsung Hero of the Fort: The Dentist

People grossly underestimate the role of dentists. Sure, we’re quick to notice a sharp haircut or someone’s new shoes, but trust me, nothing grabs attention like a missing tooth. Forget your missing eyebrow, people will skip straight past it and lock eyes with that dental gap like it’s the black hole of social conversations.

Now, people who shiver at the thought of third-degree police interrogation clearly haven’t been introduced to a root canal. I mean, if you’ve survived one - thank the anesthesia gods - you’ve dodged a trauma that could have you narrating your darkest secrets to a potted plant. A root canal without anesthesia? Oh, that makes "aeroplane climb" drills during police torture look like a breezy Sunday picnic.

"The only thing scarier than the drill’s noise is your dentist whispering, ‘You might feel a little pressure.’"

When dentistry feels less like healthcare and more like surviving an ancient ritual.

Imagine this: you’re lying on that dentist’s chair, staring at the blinding light above like a prisoner waiting for judgment. The dentist enters, wielding that electric drill - the one that sounds like a mosquito on steroids - whirring away with sinister glee. As it descends towards your poor, compromised tooth, your brain conjures images straight from a horror novel. It’s like watching a tribal dance around a boiling cauldron -except, instead of a trapped adventurer, it’s your molar being stewed alive.

I swear, in those moments, when that vibrating instrument starts its deep dive into the enamel towards your already jangled nerve, you half-expect a chorus of “Jinga-lala-ho Jinga-lala-ho.... Hurr Hurr” to erupt in the background. Primitive? Yes. Accurate? Even more so.

From Castles to Canines: The Dentist as Your Modern-Day Killedar

But let’s cut our dentists some slack. Beyond their love for terrifying drills and scary x-rays, they are the silent protectors of our oral fortresses. I like to think of them as modern-day ‘Killedars.’ Back in the Maratha Empire days, the Killedar was the governor of a fort, a stoic figure responsible for its defense and maintenance. Fast forward to today, and your dentist is basically your personal Killedar - except, instead of cannons and soldiers, they’ve got dental picks and floss.

"Some warriors wield swords. My dentist wields a vibrating spear that hums like an angry wasp."

Cavities? Gum issues? Plaque buildup that could rival the Great Wall? Fear not, for your Killedar will guard your fort (aka your pearly whites) with the same diligence as any medieval Castellan. Sure, you might be paying them in cash instead of gold coins, but the principle remains.

So, next time you recline nervously in that dental chair, remember: you’re not in a torture chamber; you’re in a well-guarded fort, and your dentist - armed with gadgets, grit, and a slightly warped sense of humor - is just doing their duty.

Besides, would you rather face them now... or risk flashing your next date a smile with more gaps than a pirate’s treasure map?

So the next time you find yourself under that blinding light, staring into the eyes of your tribal warrior-dentist, just remember: you’re not losing your mind, you’re preserving your fort!

Singapore Airlines Flight Turbulence and the MH0192 Incident: Harrowing Escapes

In a startling display of the forces of nature, passengers aboard a Singapore Airlines flight experienced sudden, severe turbulence, causing the aircraft to plunge 54 meters in a mere four seconds. This terrifying moment, captured during the recent incident, starkly illustrates the dramatic effects of unexpected turbulence. In this narrative, we also recount our recent encounter on Malaysia Airlines flight MH0192, which felt like a narrow escape from a similar fate - more a result of sheer luck than airline competence

A Night of Uncertain Skies: The Unanticipated Return of MH0192

On the evening of May 14, 2024, the smooth textures of a typical departure lounge at Kuala Lumpur International Airport belied the drama that would soon unfold over the skies of Southeast Asia. As my wife, son, and I settled into our seats aboard flight MH0192, bound for Bangalore, the air was filled with the usual clatter and murmur of passengers embarking on night journeys. We were seated in 24D, comfortably strapped in, oblivious to the twist our flight was about to take.

The Airbus A330 aircraft, a familiar vessel of modern engineering, hummed to life as it detached from the tarmac punctually at 21:00. The city lights of Kuala Lumpur faded into the backdrop as we climbed into the night sky. Three hours into our journey, somewhere over the vast, enigmatic waters near the Andaman & Nicobar Islands, a sudden announcement from the captain cleaved through the cabin’s calm. A technical snag - a suspected windshield crack in the cockpit - meant we had to turn back to Kuala Lumpur.

The decision was startling. There, surrounded by nothing but the dark, open sea, the potential perils seemed enormous. The crack posed a risk of rapid decompression, a nightmare at 35,000 feet, especially given our proximity to the nearest land. Port Blair was a mere 40 kilometers away, yet the captain’s voice over the intercom informed us we were heading back the way we came - a decision that weighed heavily in the atmosphere.

As we retraced our path back to Kuala Lumpur, the weight of our collective breaths seemed to fog the clarity of the situation. Were we safer continuing our journey back across the ocean, or should we have attempted an emergency landing at the nearest possible airport? The possibilities spun in my head as I looked at my family, trying to mask my concern with a reassuring smile.

Once back at Kuala Lumpur, the delay unfolded with an eerie calm. We disembarked and were herded to a temporary transit area, where we waited for about an hour. During this time, I observed the ground staff performing torchlight inspections on the cockpit glass of our original aircraft. Their meticulous scrutiny under the beams of their flashlights was a silent testament to the gravity of our situation.

Conversations with the transit lounge staff later revealed that the issue had been detected after we had already entered Indian airspace. The questions that raced through my mind were many: Was turning back really the safest option? What risks did we endure by not landing at the nearest possible airport?

Finally, a different aircraft was ready to take us to our destination. As we continued our journey, the night seemed quieter, the stars above a little dimmer, reflecting perhaps the somber reflections of passengers replaying the evening’s uncertainties.

As we reflect on these harrowing experiences aboard MH0192 and Singapore Airlines, it's clear that the skies hold unpredictable challenges, reminding us of the fragile balance between technology and nature's whims. These incidents not only highlight the importance of stringent safety protocols and the need for constant vigilance but also serve as a stark reminder of the thin line passengers tread between routine flights and unforeseen peril. While we often take the safety of air travel for granted, these moments of sudden turbulence and critical decisions underscore the relentless effort required to maintain it

Animal Awareness and Behaviour at a Busy Intersection: A Moment of Insight

Unveiling Animal Consciousness Amid Urban Chaos

In the study of animal behavior, human observations often come with a clinical detachment, where actions are cataloged into categories like feeding, territorial behaviors, courtship, and predator evasion. These are then neatly filed under the broader labels of innate or learned behaviors. But sometimes, a fleeting moment in the hustle and bustle of everyday life presents a scenario that defies these rigid classifications, hinting at a depth of animal consciousness rarely accounted for in scientific texts.
The Incident

The Unexpected Encounter: A Dusky Evening at the Crossroads

The event that profoundly shifted my perspective took place a few years ago, during a dusky evening at a busy traffic intersection. As the sky dimmed, I found myself waiting two rows back from the front at a red light, amidst a sparse crowd of motorcyclists. To my left, the road branched, bordered by a triangular divider.

Suddenly, a group of 2-3 Indian variety Cows, led by one with notably curved horns, ambled their way from the rear towards what I presumed was their home ( a usual in India!). They navigated through a narrow gap between the road divider and the motorcyclist at the front of the line. The gap was tight, and I couldn't help but notice the horns of the lead cow perilously close to the unsuspecting biker.

As the distance closed, I was gripped by fear. The sharp horn tips seemed destined to catch the back of the motorcyclist, potentially causing serious injury. This scene unfolded over what felt like an eternity but was actually about 90 seconds - the time remaining before the traffic light would turn green.

A Moment of Unexpected Insight

Just as panic was about to compel me to shout a warning, the cow did something astonishing. It tilted its head at a deliberate angle, about 45 degrees, ensuring the tip of its horn passed harmlessly over the motorcyclist’s shoulder. It was a maneuver of such precise awareness that it seemed almost human in its consideration.

The light turned green, and the moment passed as quickly as it had arrived. The motorcyclists sped off, including the one who had been moments away from a potentially painful encounter. None seemed to notice the critical adjustment made by the cow; the episode went unobserved by all but me.
Reflections on a Narrow Escape

A Surprising Display of Animal Intelligence

How did this cow, equipped with nothing more than instinct and a set of horns - ostensibly without sensory feedback - navigate such a hazardous narrow passage without incident? The horns, composed of dead tissue and certainly out of the animal’s line of sight, should not have been maneuvered so deftly. Yet, it was as if the cow possessed a consciousness, an understanding of its body in relation to the bustling world around it.

Reflecting on the Overlooked Miracles of Everyday Life

This incident serves as a poignant reminder of the "small miracles" that unfold around us, obscured by the fog of our daily routines and existential concerns. It challenges the way we compartmentalize animal behavior into simple, observable categories. Perhaps, in these unscripted moments, animals exhibit a level of situational awareness and deliberation that we, in our hubris, fail to recognize - a subtle reminder of the intricate tapestry of life playing out in even the most mundane of settings.

Funny pet video; dog smells a rat in false hopes

Illusion

When others asked the truth of me, I was convinced it was not the truth they wanted, but an illusion they could bear to live with

Anais Nin

Brexit - eyes wide shut (atlas view)

The Brexit poll shows how the split went right down the middle, the funny thing was that the head (Scotland) wanted to stay while the Body (England) wanted to leave. Now the Scots are referring (though in whisper) to a possible referendum about whether to stay as part of the union (will the Union get Jacked the second time around?).


If that happens the UK will be like the proverbial 'headless chicken' or rather 'Turkey' (the way i see the atlas now). One thing the Brexit shows, the forward march of the once imperious nation (whose Sun never set) with its head turned in the exactly opposite direction...

Back to dark ages

CONGRESS = REGRESS?

The party has successfully taken the state including the country's silicon valley back to dark ages.

Blast from the past

I usually misplace things and then end up turning the house upside down looking for it. During one search recently I stumbled upon a old photograph that immediately rewinded me to the past.

This post is about an incident that occurred in the 1980s. What looks like a perfectly serene shot with a man taking aim and a eager kid watching on had a bit of anticlimactic end .

And for once my curiosity got the better of me and landed my father in trouble in quite unforeseen ways

Back in the early eighties, my father had a licensed air rifle, which he often took during our family outings in our Fiat 1100d (MYJ2141) . Come to think of it now, it was more out of a necessity to keep the gun in smoking condition rather than any penchant for shooting or wild games.

I barely recollect the reason why he said he’d bought it. In the early seventies while constructing our house in what was then the outskirts of Belgaum city, wild animals frequented the area in the night and maybe found it handy for self defense .

My father was a good marksman and he loved hunting, a game that he had picked up from my grandfather in the pre-independence days, when hunting as a sport was not banned in India. But by the 1970s, the ban was in effect and my father had to be content with targeting birds & fowls after switching over to a spring loaded air rifle.

Our favorite spot was a sprawling mangrove farm of a family friend outside of Khanapur town, bordering a thickly wooded area near the border of Goa which we used to frequent.

On this occasion my Dad took a few shots and was successful in getting hold of a partridge. And while he was loading the rifle for another shot , I began pestering him for my turn.

The air rifle needed to be cocked and loaded by giving the barrel a rap near the muzzle which would bend it down. This would break open the action of the gun which could be reset back after inserting the pellet . Just as my father had coiled up the gun and was about to load another pellet in the barrel, I somehow managed to wriggle between his arms in and pulled the trigger. The powerful spring in the air rifle uncoiled and it snapped quite violently in his hands.

Before I could realize what happened, my father was staring at a broken rifle and bloodied hands due to its violent uncoiling which left him with cut wounds. Luckily he did not sustain any serious injuries and neither did I from the sound thrashings that rained upon me. 

Homo Stupidus

There are a few among us who stand erect yet by some quirky fate of evolution carry the same stuff in their cranial bones as that of the Neanderthal man. In my opinion they can be easily classified in a new sub genus called Homo Stupidus in the world of Anthrpology. 

I thought Sushil kumar Shinde was the front runner to take the coveted prize of Homo Stupidus man of the year for his late flurry of gaffe'ose utterances. 

That is until I read the ET of March 6 . Like Usain Bolt just waltzing past his fellow-sprinting erectus competitors, this guy, a Washington state lawmaker beat him with enough and more to spare to amble past the finishing line. And to do some after jig also before Shinde or others could actually touch the finishing line. 

His scorching run on the dumbing-down-circuit goes like this; 

“ If I am not mistaken, a cyclist has an increased Heart rate and respiration…since CO2 is deemed a greenhouse gas and a pollutant, bicyclists are actually polluting when they ride” - Ed Orcutt, a member of the house of representatives.

This wins the trophy, atleast in my mind, not for the sheer audacity of the intellectual chasm but for the string of words and the pearl of a thought which flies in the face of all logic and comprehension.

Its now apparent that Mr.Orcutt was arguing for a fee on bicycles to help pay for street infrastructure but went scurrying for cover after the ensuing public outrage his utterances created.

Following closely on the heels of Ed Orcutt for the coveted post was another US politician Richard Mourdoch’s with his famous “ rape babies are what God intended”

Aero India

Banking by design. Architectural Tales of India's Banking Bastions

Embark with me on a journey through the bustling streets of Bangalore and Mangalore, where the facades of financial fortresses tell tales of contrast and character. This isn't just a tale of my recent visits to various bank headquarters; it's a story of how architecture and design whisper the silent yet potent language of brand identity.

Let's start with the public sector banks, where time seems to have paused, holding on to the charm of yesteryears. Public sector banks have this - no frill, sedate & dull almost to the point of boring you to death types of receptions. One (Canara Bank) resembled a check-in counter at the airport, complete with uniformed staff manning a X-ray baggage checking machine next to the receptionist. Another (Vijaya Bank) had large showcases of what appeared to be several large trophies & awards around its reception area. I don’t know where & how they won so many but it certainly reminded me of my school & college receptions. Corporation Bank had this wooden box like reception area that resembled a ticketing counter of a 70 era cinema theater.

In stark contrast, the private sector banks were like stepping into the future. ING Vysya's entrance boasted revolving glass doors that ushered me into a world where art and commerce met—a giant steel sculpture hanging like a modern chandelier, a testament to the bank's sophistication and contemporary vision.

Essentially the style and substance in presentation speaks a lot of the banks, and it seems only the private sector banks used it as a calling card and a sophisticated way of differentiating from peers. Given the bad reputation and some stigma facing the industry it made a lot of sense for banks to trade goodwill and reputations through their corporate front offices.

Years back when I was working with ICICI Bank I used to marvel at its BKC headquarters, a place for our frequent visits and meetings. It appeared as jewel-de-paragon on the Bandra-kurla complex which during the initial years of its completion stood out against the monolithic blocks of concrete buildings as one entered the complex from Bandra side. I couldn’t differentiate these buildings from the fort (some called it residence named Matoshree) of the rabble rouser politician Bal Thackeray) who lived on the other side of the road. Several other organizations sprung around ICICI Bank later each trying to outdo the other in architectural splendor.

Magnificent as was it from outside contrast the reception where loud and bawdy Marathi speaking manoos’es who many a times doubled up as security and receptionists undid most of sophistication that Kamath had tried to portray as a dynamic universal Bank.

Years later, I found myself at Centurion Bank of Punjab in Mahalakshmi, where an old mill had been transformed into a corporate haven. Staying in Belvedre Court and walking to the office next door was the envy of my colleagues who knew a thing or two about Mumbai commuting. While on the exterior, the building exuded some charm of a heritage building the interiors were all glass and gloss. There was one small glitch though, a secretarial college rubbed shoulders with CBoP as its neighbor in the same complex.

Finally to understand how size can be one’s own undoing one can visit the head offices of NABARD in Mumbai. You will be reminded of how it would have been like while being swallowed by a 10000 pound dinosaur.

Lampner’s sleight of hand

That the various laws of life come into play frequently at the most inappropriate moments of our lives is something everyone might have experienced. Murphy’s law, Kauffman’s paradox, Salary axiom, Miller’s law of insurance and the list goes on but recently Lampner’s law caught up with me.

The  Project work with the state Govt  that keeps me preoccupied these days took me to 2 places away from Bangalore last week, one of which was  a welcome break from the hustle & bustle of city life to  a vast serene Govt. training campus spread over several hundred acres  on the outskirts of Dharwar town.   An official jeep ferried me from the Railway station  to this  campus as were countless others - all senior & mid level officials from north Karnataka covering several districts who came to attend the  one day workshop cum orientation training. I had requested the department boss (a senior functionary equivalent to a CEO)  to grace these sessions and he had  kindly obliged. But giving company was also another  Sr official (sectional head) who was supposed to oversee the arrangements and facilitate these workshops. 

This guy was anything but helpful: pesky, irritating us all the time with his typical Babu tantrums. He did little to facilitate the workshop but hung around us everywhere. Even tagging along when we met some officials in their chambers after the meeting. So the second day we (myself & colleague) decided to give this guy a slip after the meeting. So when the workshop got over we managed to pack our things quickly and made our way through the Govt building progressively getting away from his visual sight .  First we made our way to the toilets and then watching him through the distance among the Govt office corridors we slyly made our way to the exit. We had spotted him moments earlier walking into one of the adjacent buildings and so were  confident of our final move to the parking lot to make it to our vehicle. 

But as if by Lampner’s (law) sleight of hand, there he was at the parking lot! – a mischievous grin on his face and we were stranded like people with 2 left feet!

NatGeo Mission Indian Army: a firsthand account with the Parachute Regiment

NatGeo in association with Indian Army conducted the selection process to Mission Army: Desk Ke Rakshak  in Bangalore last Sunday. The previous such attempts by NatGeo namely Mission Udaan, Mission Mount Everest & Mission Navy had been quite popular . So decided to check it out this time around. The fact that I was competing with mostly 18-25 year olds didn’t deter me, I wanted to see whether I could really stand up to the rigorous selection standards (reportedly the SSB format) set by the Army set for this reality TV show 

So on a cold Sunday early  morning I set out to the Rajput Regiment Parachute Regiment Training Centre (PRTC) (said to be the fittest of the Army units) at JC Nagar Bangalore . There I expected to see large crowds, given that it had been well publicized, but could find only  about 25 faithfuls  at the gates around  6 in the morning. However by the time they herded us into Army trucks in groups of 25 at around 7:30 am the crowd had swelled to around 200+.

After the registration formalities, a display crib was tied to each participant and bundled in groups of 50 each. Each participant had to undergo 4 rounds of selection to finally make it to the lucky 5 from each city Mumbai (for west), Bangalore (for South) & Delhi ( for North) . The final 5 would spend 45 days as a part of the Indian army  & one among them would finally end up abroad and train with the Israeli intelligence (Mossad)

The first hurdle in this journey was the endurance test: a candidate was supposed to cover a vast 2.5 km stretch of Army ground under 10 minutes or the first 25 whichever earlier. A designated track was marked along this  vast stretch of grassy army land that was both picturesque  and daunting. After a basic instruction drill by a smartly dressed officer, the gun was fired and most of the young hopeful darted as if it were a 100 mts dash, not surprisingly many were out of steam after about 800 meters. I  ran the course steadily and after a bit of stretch in the end made it through the first round. About 90 made it through this round.

A cream bun and puff  breakfast later the second hurdle was a case study analysis followed by a group discussion. Groups of 15 participants were to  analyze a case situation that was given to us in a brief write up and pictorially depicted on a large display map ( marked out by railway & road tracks, forest boundary, Villages, Scales etc). Under 7 minutes the participant had to analyze the situation & provide a course of action to tackle the situation in a brief 1page  write up. This was followed by a  group discussion. An army officer read out the Instruction at the start  & followed up with a hawk like observation at a distance, constantly jotting down the  progress made by the participants . 50% of the participants were filtered out  in this round of selection. The group that made through this round let out a war cry when the results were announced in the noon. Little did we realise what lay in store ahead.

On a sultry noon, when the sun was beating upon us , they took us to another hard sand  ground where the still euphoric 45 participants faced this new Instructor. This guy appeared straight out of a Hollywood commando movie, gruff and with a bit of features that reminded me of Bruce Willis. He put us through a exercise regimen over the next 45 minutes that I would like to forget in a hurry. 40 normal  push-ups followed by 20 knuckle push-ups aswe simultaneously carried the entire body 5 steps  forward and backward respectively. Followed by another 20 while clapping hands in the middle of the pushups.  The groans that started mid way through this exercise  increased to desperate pleading by the time the count reached 80. This was followed by various types of leg squats, body stretches & exercises that I never knew existed in physical regimen. The Nat Geo guys quickly sensed a medical emergency situation and thankfully stopped this Rambo from doing any serious damage to  us (the guy though reacted as if it were just the warm up and the main course was yet to begin!)

The third round was what I would call a physio-psychometric test, the final batch of 45 were  broken into 3 teams and assembled around a small ‘situational area’ where the team had to follow certain set of instructions and overcome certain natural  barriers. We had to act as a team and not  individuals to cross the barriers. We were given a set of 2 ropes, a plank and a wooden pole, that we had to use to overcome the situation. Areas marked in blue were one could either stand & not use the support material while those in  white where we could do both. As we went through the exercise another officer watched closely at a distance and made notes.

By early evening, around 4 pm the exercises were over and a final list of 11 (instead of 15) were announced for the final round of interview. 2 Girls & 9 boys (lucky eleven I would say as there was nothing much to differentiate) were selected and the rest of us, well disappointed to say the least  returned back to  the base posing for a final photograph before we bid adieu to each other.

Counting your Chicken before they hatch

Why is  IIPM offering an MBA degree that nobody would recognize? muses Vir Sanghvi  in his blog recently. The answer it appears is simple though. IIPM  has this CEO who simply believes & acts  in ‘Counting  his  Chickens Before They Hatch’!

On a serious note the reality of  the matter is  that there are too many wannabe MBA institutes wanting to get a chunk of this large market and the fight between the ‘me-too’  segments is only getting fiercer. However dubious their claims or reputations may be – Vir’s well articulated article being a case in point. It’s another case,  for instance, why many colleges in Bangalore go without a single admissions in a year

My Project office lies bang opposite the Karnataka Examinations Authority office in malleswaram and I have been witness to what could be called a prolonged spectacle. That is until recently CET Counseling was in full swing here and flocking this center were hordes of engineering & other degree (including BBA - MBA) Institutes that marketed their wares in every possible way. Just passing by that road meant that you would have brochures of atleast 15 different colleges in hand before you crossed the centre.  And parking on the opposite side of the road were numerous College Vans & Buses with banners, buntings and all kind of promotional materials. 

The interesting thing is; as the days progressed and the counseling progressed to the lower rung ranks of students, newer and never-before heard colleges from far flung & beyond areas appeared near the counseling center. And many tried hard with their outdoor presentations; decent looking campuses & beaming students on their brochures & posters.

So what if one of the promoters of these colleges goes to bed worrying about the empty benches but wakes up one fine morning & says ‘lets do something different’? 

There you have another Arindam Choudhary story.

Twitternama

The universe does not revolve around us, what happened if it did ? To get an approximate idea watch the movie ‘The Truman show’ . Can it be real that an unwitting man’s entire life has been a TV reality show ? May be not in real life but with Twitter we are getting close. And unlike the plot in Truman show the exact opposite might be happening here (i.e, people constantly projecting their lives to outside world). The other notable difference being that it is a web reality show instead of a TV reality show.

I am seeing certain ‘Twitter’ obsessed people constantly updating their status – about being struck in traffic jam, about seeing some picture or meeting somebody, traveling, about some temple , some song in their mind, blah, blah, blah. I don’t know whether to call it twittering or incessant crowing but they are certainly projecting a minute by minute account of their lives to this web reality show.

Coming back to the movie, it finally explores the theme ‘whether a person can be a pawn in some grand experiment or a prisoner in an alien world than it is to anything in our current "reality TV" obsessed culture’. Going by the current Hollywood themes like ‘inception’ it certainly could be in the world of Twitter.

Rewinding Time: A Nostalgic Journey Through the Simplicity of the 80s

Recently, a friend's email sparked a delightful journey down memory lane, leading me to compile my own list of fond memories from growing up in the 80s. Life was undeniably simpler back then, and I bet many of you have your own cherished recollections from that era.

Reliving the Unforgettable 80s: From Ink Stains to Iconic TV Shows

Riding to school was a whole different experience - either perched on the back of Dad's Vespa scooter, nestled in the family Fiat 1100D, or pedaling away on an Atlas cycle. The concept of school vans or private transporters was unheard of.


Traffic signals and jams were non-existent; schools started early in the morning and wrapped up by late afternoon.


Making a long-distance call was an event in itself – you had to book a 'trunk call' and eagerly await the callback from the operator, who always seemed more lively than today's automated voices.


When it came to soft drinks, choices were limited but cherished - Thums Up, Torino, or Goldspot. These drinks came in sturdy bottles, often marked by a ring of yellow or red where the cap had been pried open.


Returning home from school often meant scrubbing off stubborn ink stains from our hands, courtesy of those perpetually leaking ink pens.


Following a cricket test match meant sneaking to the canteen radio or clustering around the one student with a pocket transistor during recess, especially when the West Indies team, with their seemingly invincible lineup, was playing.


TV evenings were predictable yet eagerly awaited - 'Krishi Darshan' at 7 pm, followed by 'Jan Hai Jahan Hai'. Prime time was reserved for 'Chitrahaar' or 'Living Planet' during the week.


Dedicated TV serial watching was a ritual – 'Humlog', 'Khandaan', 'Nukkad', 'Byomkesh Bakshi', each had their own set of loyal viewers.

Television Time Capsule: The Classic Shows and Ads of the 80s

Sundays on Doordarshan were a marathon of varied shows - morning spiritual sessions, children's serials, and family dramas like 'Rajni' and 'Wagle Ki Duniya'.


The ads accompanying these shows were classics in their own right - Vicks, Nirma, Bajaj, Colgate, and more, each with its distinctive jingle and charm.

The Era of Doordarshan: Sunday Rituals and Regional Cinema

Sunday afternoons were reserved for regional movies, often melancholic art films, followed by the much-loved 'Vikram aur Betaal' in the evenings.


News broadcasts were straightforward, often marred by technical glitches, but free from the opinionated debates of today.


The news was different then - no mentions of terrorism or global warming. 'The World This Week' focused on the Cold War, the Iran-Iraq conflict, and other global issues.


And who could forget the frequent 'Rukawat ke liye khed hai' interruptions during TV broadcasts, or the adventure of watching pirated movies on VCRs, complete with their distorted images, crackling sounds, and intrusive advertising subtitles?


Those days might be gone, but the nostalgia remains, a sweet reminder of a simpler, perhaps more innocent time.

A hundred of sorts

Thanks for putting up with me all these while (yawn), 2 years todate and on the 100th blogpost I stand. As I sit back & recollect how it all began I cant help but chuckle. One fine evening, as the sun light faded over what seemed to be a place straight out of a text book: where well manicured lawns spread out a green blanket over blocks of buildings , on the sidelines an occasional electric cart would quietly make its way around people cycling idly , at another corner a few played basket ball with the enthusiasm of young adults while others hung around cafeterias. Within the serene buildings however, as the servers hummed, code jockeys worked feverishly on the keyboards to meet schedules that spanned various time zones for clients spread across the Atlantic. But myself and Shaz found ourselves on the micro mini Golf lawns where he was demonstrating his ‘tee’ing skills and I was following him as a serious apprentice. Somewhere during the conversation a topic started hovering around something that was posted on the Infy dashboard (Sparsh) where techies regularly vented their ire’s & opinions. This discussion led to Blogging and Shaz suggested that I create an account for myself on Blogger. I nodded and we moved on. I had forgotten this altogether but a few weeks later Shaz took the initiative upon himself and mailed me the coordinates.

He had created a blog template for me with a generous title that read “I was Brendons double once’. I don’t know how close I came to resembling the Hollywood star but Shaz firmly believed that I was pretty near. And that prompted him the title which I guess had made an impact. I had some followers & generous comments on an empty Blog piece for a couple of years by people who believed that I was indeed the body double of the star!

It took a good couple of years to come out of my inertia and write my first article. I wrote my first article about how some people showcase fiduciary management teams of high flying names to further their Business cause. I likened them to designers flaunting exotic looking clothes on the ramps that having little or no practical value. Thereafter I have tried writing on varied topics and thanks to the encouragement of my friends & peers it has become a favorite pastime.

What’s with this Yellow metal I say?

Its in the air, on the airwaves,buried in print, making News, across Hoardings ....its practically everywhere and its lucre seems inescapable. And like MacKenna & Co’s rush to gold in the Hollywood classic, Bangaloreans made a dash to the Gold shops in town on Akshaya Tritiya day recently. Adding to the hysteria was a sustained advertisement campaign by a local prominent jewelery export house that had just forayed into gold retailing. This guy went hammer & tongs in the media about his ‘no making charges’ scheme with elaborate explanations that appeared like one of those advertorials carried out by ministry of information & broadcasting . Before I could find some sensible echoes in the grey hills to this phenomenon, Wifi had coolly exchanged her pair of gold earrings to a new pair at a local gold shop in Udupi. Her mom in tow and the obvious enamor created by the local jewelery shop led her to an irresistible offer to exchange gold ‘just’ at the cost of making charges and the extra wee bits of ounces that went into the new one.

Meanwhile as I commute to work every day all the marketing blitzkrieg about this madness seems to be misdirected at this hapless soul. But i do soak in the proverbial gold dust that is thrown by the hoardings along the way, almost 1/3rd of which I believe relate to Gold & Jewelery. As I pass through atleast 1-2 traffic junctions everyday, I am greeted by luscious looking damsels on hoardings extolling one or the other brand of very fine ornate gold n jewellery. One recent hoarding reminded me of Rajiv Gandhi’s message to the Pakis in the mid 80s (Unko unki Naani yaad dila deenge types). This hoarding by Canara Robeco reminded me about my naani and urged me to invest like her perhaps, the ad is about a new fund by Canara Robeco that encourages investors to invest like one's grandmother would. It shows a grandmotherly lady resplendently decked up with gold necklaces. While on another recent day ‘Madhavan’ (the film actor) passed by me with a benign smile & folded hands inviting me to the house of Alukkas (a gold retailer from kerala who set shop in Blr recently), he was of course plastered across a large Van which served as a mobile bill board . This Van incidentally overtook me on the busy Sampige road (Malleswaram) , which as you enter is lined with many Gold shops (popularly called gold palaces) reminding one what it would like entering Kubera’s den.

All this and like many in US (which goes from one bust and bailout to the next), I have now come to think, that only ‘Gold , God & Guns’ can save us from imminent economic recession, depression or collapse.

Art Buch’wall’d

The other day I ran into a friend at a shopping mall. An ex-colleague we had not met each other in a long while. We recollected the good old days when we used to hangout for a beer at an old heritage building near Richmond circle that now stand demolished to make way for some large complex.

During the conversation he said that he followed me on my blog and maybe to give credence to that thought said how much he liked by son’s drawing that I had posted in one of the blogposts. “ I cant post any more of his artwork “ I apologized ....“ Its all on our walls at home” I sighed. He laughed and said it was a good time he visited home to catch more works of this art Buchwalld.

Bangalored

Scenes from my Project office on the 7th floor of a Govt building located adjacent to Sankey lake (Malleswaram) before & after the hailstorm that left many Bengalureans Bangalored on a hot summer day last Wednesday. The sprawling lawns of the Govt Office was covered with hailstones in quick time resembling a thin blanket of snow. The 12.5mm rainfall that accompanied the severe hailstorm brought the city to a standstill due to tree falling, water logging & traffic jams.