A very good May to you, readers. As hot as May May-Be, we enjoy the mangoes, the cricket and the heat and holidays, is it not? The writers have been busy this time, climbing up the hilly terrains in search of things to write about (that's what we call “High thinking” out here)
This time we take you to Tapovan in our search for truth in the wanderlust. We make a point by going to the Silly Point Cafe in our Wine, Dine and Dance. We sing praises of the Beatles in our Funny Side Up.
We welcome your thoughts on the Wink. Write in to us about what you think about it. If its befitting and flattering, we'll say thanks nicely (Just kidding!). Wink welcomes your ideas, no kidding.
Happy reading!
Friday, May 22, 2009
Wanderlust - Travelling to Tapovan (Our quest for Truth?)
I’ve always wanted to go to the Himalayas and I somehow managed to go really close to it. I landed in Tapovan. Chinmaya Tapovan is a modern day ashram situated at the foothills of the Dhauladhar ranges of the Himalayas. It is about 10 km from Dharamsala, in Himachal Pradesh (which is also called as the “little Lhasa”). Situated on the banks of Bindu Saras, the ashram was founded by late Swami Chimayananda. The ashram complex has a huge image of Lord Hanuman, a Ram temple, a meditation hall and a health and recreation center. Most people come here for getting a good feel of “peace and serenity”. One needs to book much in advance since the place has a lot of visitors. We were given a room that was right opposite the Himalayas. It was heaven. Really. In the night, we could see the brightly lit town of Dharamsala from the room. It was a nice curvy line of lights amidst the humungous patches of nothingness. We stayed there for 2 days (which caused a lot of sadness to the folks in the group. The booking was done for just 2 days. The guide was yelled at for assuming that we would probably like to visit other places rather than spending a week at a single place). We meditated, prayed, breathed fresh pristine air and prayed. This is one place one shouldn’t give a miss.
Funny Side Up - Beatle-ing it out
If you ever thought that you could stay without the popularity of the Beatles hitting you, you thought wrong. There comes a time in everyone's life where one has to acknowledge the Beatles and their songs. You cannot escape “hello goodbye” or “Let it Be”. Someone will sing you “and your bird can sing”. Though Great Britain is on the other side of the ocean, the sound carries.
I was sitting at the park when someone said “hello” (out of sheer courteousness, obviously) and the back ground score was “I am the Walrus”. He was, indeed. The potent easiness of the songs makes it so easy to hum. I never did realize that I was humming the “Good day Sunshine” on a rainy day. In my defense, John (Lennon) recommends it. When I lost out on winning the “Working Brain Award” (narrowly, of course) and an elderly graying woman won it, I had to sing “And your bird can sing”. Obviously, it was the wrong song to have chosen. The back ground music playing was that of “And my guitar gently weeps”.
When asked to describe myself on a social networking site, I choose to sing “Eleanor Rigby”. When walking down the aisle, I would recommend “When I'm 64”. Obviously, if you've listened to “Kabhi kabhi aditi” in the movie not titled that (surprising, for a Hindi flick) where a cat died and the guy gushes out the song, the Beatles would have played the “Let it Be”. I could hear it (“Oh don't you?”)
Asked for my address, I yelled “We all live in a Yellow submarine” On a rainy day, when the world seemed blue, I could hear “Isnt it a pity”. Of course, that's right what you read in the papers, under the “Believe it or Not”. In my funeral, I sang “Live and Let Die”.
I was sitting at the park when someone said “hello” (out of sheer courteousness, obviously) and the back ground score was “I am the Walrus”. He was, indeed. The potent easiness of the songs makes it so easy to hum. I never did realize that I was humming the “Good day Sunshine” on a rainy day. In my defense, John (Lennon) recommends it. When I lost out on winning the “Working Brain Award” (narrowly, of course) and an elderly graying woman won it, I had to sing “And your bird can sing”. Obviously, it was the wrong song to have chosen. The back ground music playing was that of “And my guitar gently weeps”.
When asked to describe myself on a social networking site, I choose to sing “Eleanor Rigby”. When walking down the aisle, I would recommend “When I'm 64”. Obviously, if you've listened to “Kabhi kabhi aditi” in the movie not titled that (surprising, for a Hindi flick) where a cat died and the guy gushes out the song, the Beatles would have played the “Let it Be”. I could hear it (“Oh don't you?”)
Asked for my address, I yelled “We all live in a Yellow submarine” On a rainy day, when the world seemed blue, I could hear “Isnt it a pity”. Of course, that's right what you read in the papers, under the “Believe it or Not”. In my funeral, I sang “Live and Let Die”.
Wine, Dine and Dance - Silly Point Cafe
Tucked away, stitched into the Laurel Lane in Richmond Town, Bangalore is the silent Silly Point Cafe. If you are a avid cricket watcher, you might want to check it out. Housed by the Bat and Ball Inn Home Stay (owned by the cricketers Robin Utthappa and Sreesanth) this place is a joy for cricket trivia folks. The cafe itself has a menu which seems impressive but is incredibly slow. What I mean is, there is a man (singular) running the cafe – who cooks, bills and serves. And its easily an hour before you get the simplest of the things on the menu like the french fries. The menu has an impressive look and feel with names “forward short leg” for the chow in it. The Inn houses a lot of cricket memorabilia, photographs, cartoons, funny-posters about cricket. Its the perfect food for the cricket fan who loves to talk cricket right from the Ranjit Singh era. The Silly Point cafe, however has limited seating area. There are sign boards which give you the distance in kilometers to cricket stadiums around the country. You'd be close to the Chinnaswamy stadium from Silly Point Cafe. The Silly Point is the perfect Cricket Cafe. The genre is more than just welcome.
Monday, May 4, 2009
Come May, Come Rain, Come Shine!
Hello Readers,
The sun is blazing away. Our writers have been furiously punching keys to bring you the Wink (ok, thats a white lie! not "furiously", just punching keys). They have also been telling us real good things about us, all that Ice-ing is sure to give us a cold! We hope you've all been holidaying this summer and are eagerly waiting to read the Wink (nice try, no?)
We bring you our regular columns, Funny Side up where man fights the wild, Wanderlust - traveling into Coonoor and a review of a grub-place in our Wine, Dine and Dance.
Write in. Tell us what you think (or don't think. We're okay with both). Happy Reading!
The sun is blazing away. Our writers have been furiously punching keys to bring you the Wink (ok, thats a white lie! not "furiously", just punching keys). They have also been telling us real good things about us, all that Ice-ing is sure to give us a cold! We hope you've all been holidaying this summer and are eagerly waiting to read the Wink (nice try, no?)
We bring you our regular columns, Funny Side up where man fights the wild, Wanderlust - traveling into Coonoor and a review of a grub-place in our Wine, Dine and Dance.
Write in. Tell us what you think (or don't think. We're okay with both). Happy Reading!
Wine, Dine and Dance: Heera Panna
Hidden opposite NASA, church street, is Heera Panna. One is welcomed by a gaudy décor, trying to resemble the Shah-Jehan era, green and white drapes all around, ornamental lights, people dressed in ethnic Mughal-wear. If you're impressed, then you're impressed (how profound). Ancient Hindi music plays in the back ground. So ancient, you'd think the dodos flew and mammoths walked the earth. I can report about the buffet. It takes quite a while to appear and when it does, its a huge rush of starters. The buffet lunch has a decent spread – spreads from Mughal-country or spreads just named that way. You wonder a lot about the spreads after this over priced meal. The surroundings change color due to varying color lamps. If its beautiful, then its beautiful. Heera Panna also boasts a drinks menu. Heera Panna is an interesting attempt to revoke a certain style, be it the décor or the food. One must try it if one misses watching Mughal-e-azam, or that genre of movies and badly wants to see them in color.
Wanderlust : Coonoor
If its beauty you are looking for, and tea, you'll find both in great abundance in Coonoor. One can reach Coonoor from Mettupalyam, and Ooty easily. There are a zillion buses that can help one do that. The Coonoor town looks like a tawdry piece of crumpled paper, in the beginning. Look ahead and move upwards towards Kotagiri – and one is surprised at the transformation. Tea estates begin to unfold, beautifully. The clouds waltz into the terrain all of a sudden and say a pleasant hello. The tea tastes wonderful. The Touristy places to go to are Lamb's rock, Dolphin's Nose, Sim's Park, Lady Canning's seat, Law's falls. Walk around, breathe in, and you'll bump into a number of nameless streams, beautiful cottages, lush-green spectacular landscapes and a celebrity or two that owns these estates. Coonoor town hasn't much grub to grab, but up in the hills, you'll find Tranquilitea (a tea lounge), and a couple of eateries near Sim's Park. The Pasteur Institute is renowned in Coonoor and you might want to take a look. The tea factories, Honey manufacturing and cheese are some other interesting things to check out while you're there. Wander around, for best results. You'll find a lot of places with a lot of interesting names “Adderly”,and so on. If photography is your hobby, time to harness it in Coonoor. Its a perfect picture postcard, this.
Funny Side Up : Man Vs Wild
Often sheltered by the urban lifestyle, man forgets to shake hands with nature. But of course, not all nature is shake-hand-able. Some of it is rather ferocious. In our urban world, retractable claws pose a serious threat. And of course, really fast running bandicoots. We don't need the lions and single horned rhinos for us to jump on the table and shiver. A little “mew” should about cover it.
I wonder sometimes how hunters manage to have menacing masks and remains of their hunts on their wall. And here's my argument: you'd feel the same emotions that i do, when you find a dead squirrel in your water tank and you have to clean it out. A wet, dead squirrel looks like a live cock drenched in rain, for the lack of a better vocabulary. Maybe minus its teeth made largely protrusive and prominent by the lack of live muscles that hold it behind, but we've got the idea covered, in the broad sense.
The removal of dead animal matter from an area involves holding the dead animal and moving it elsewhere. (I can hear you groan!) The stench that surrounds dead animals is far worse than the ones that surround live ones. It can make you feel like wanting to be in better surroundings with much better aromas and scents. Holding your breath while you go close to the remains of the dead animal certainly helps. You can put your hands towards it (of course, suitably insulated with a pair of gloves) and quickly throw it away – or you can turn back and take a deep breath and proceed to do the same.
Holding a dead animal is way worse than holding one alive. Though fat chance that you want to hold a live squirrel and fat chance at the squirrel presenting you with the opportunity. Your hand shivers, your insides tremble and there is the faint sound of your stomach groaning. A word of advice, do not look directly at the dead animal. Try wearing a pair of sun glasses, it certainly helps.
After all the fuss, if you do succeed in getting rid of the dead matter, pat yourself on the back. It is a rare feat, not often performed by the urban population. It is perfectly natural to sulk after the incident. An encounter with the wild is often an opportunity to look into your soul and discover the joy and beauty of life. After all, there is neither joy or beauty in the dead.
I wonder sometimes how hunters manage to have menacing masks and remains of their hunts on their wall. And here's my argument: you'd feel the same emotions that i do, when you find a dead squirrel in your water tank and you have to clean it out. A wet, dead squirrel looks like a live cock drenched in rain, for the lack of a better vocabulary. Maybe minus its teeth made largely protrusive and prominent by the lack of live muscles that hold it behind, but we've got the idea covered, in the broad sense.
The removal of dead animal matter from an area involves holding the dead animal and moving it elsewhere. (I can hear you groan!) The stench that surrounds dead animals is far worse than the ones that surround live ones. It can make you feel like wanting to be in better surroundings with much better aromas and scents. Holding your breath while you go close to the remains of the dead animal certainly helps. You can put your hands towards it (of course, suitably insulated with a pair of gloves) and quickly throw it away – or you can turn back and take a deep breath and proceed to do the same.
Holding a dead animal is way worse than holding one alive. Though fat chance that you want to hold a live squirrel and fat chance at the squirrel presenting you with the opportunity. Your hand shivers, your insides tremble and there is the faint sound of your stomach groaning. A word of advice, do not look directly at the dead animal. Try wearing a pair of sun glasses, it certainly helps.
After all the fuss, if you do succeed in getting rid of the dead matter, pat yourself on the back. It is a rare feat, not often performed by the urban population. It is perfectly natural to sulk after the incident. An encounter with the wild is often an opportunity to look into your soul and discover the joy and beauty of life. After all, there is neither joy or beauty in the dead.
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