When Sauce was a Tomato once upon a time

There was a scream in the kitchen. Expecting some kind of a mishap I ran over. My wife was in a state of shock standing like a statue. I doubted if some sage had converted her into a stone for not adhering to her husband. As Lord Rama stepped on a stone, Ahalya had a second life. Similarly I thought I too should do something like that. Well! I was not so lucky. The reason for the scream was she had forgotten to watch her daily serial and a good 15 minutes already had gone by. She almost high jumped over me to the hall, the place of existence of our beloved idiot box.

1002301th part (not sure about the number of years of its running) of the daily super mega serial of “Kyunki Sauce bhi kabhi Tomato thi” had already started. She breathed a sigh of relief as yesterday’s part was still being shown. Should say this was 15 times slower than the super slow motion of a cricket ball touching the bat. I am amazed at her punctiliousness in covering every part twice (Today’s night part is repeated tomorrow morning) as if there was some kind of exam next day and she had to be the topper by any means. And believe me she is so irritated if she misses even a single dialog or a scene. Nobody is supposed to do any cross talk at that hour.

I am not sure why people are so mad about such serials. I find it very brain damaging, annoying and quite silly. It is even more when I just come home from office and want to relax by watching some nice English movie in our recently bought 32” LCD flatron Sony TV. And I am snubbed every time I request for the remote. Being the broad minded that I think I am I always have to succumb to her requests. I then normally divert my attention to other activities like reading a book or newspaper just to forget the pain of not able to watch the TV. But occasionally I just happen to catch some of the parts.

I just cannot stand the same clichéd characters walking in and out every time you see. Rich joint families (that is so outdated), all the characters clad in such grand costumes and artistic jewelry that a middle class woman would never ever be able to wear even with a savings of life time, innocent looking “bahus” with loads of pancake on their faces, glycerin pouring through their cheeks every minute like a Niagara fall, supercilious “sasu maas” looking down on everybody including their no good side-kick husbands , villainous sister-in-laws showing the “Bahus” in bad light just for the sake of it. The list can go on. In the name of God can somebody please shut these things down?

Anyways now the serial had started. In a marriage scene there was some high emotional drama going on. All the ladies were sobbing because their distant cousin sister, third daughter of their step mother’s daughter whose father had divorced her to marry another (Confused??? Me too, I am not sure if that kind of relation really exists), who was getting married would be leaving them after marriage and their husbands were consoling them. Thinking that this was a third marriage in their family I told my wife that I saw a similar scene a month back. With eyes glued on TV, with watery eyes, almost breaking down unable to bear the emotional scene, she told me that this was the same marriage and was still going on.

I almost fell of my seat!!!!

The beautiful Hills of Papikondalu & Badrachalam

Looks like the mansoons are finally here feeding the thirsty earth - left high and dry because of hot and humid summer- with rain water. It's great how the weather changes so quickly as if there was some kind of an alarm set- that June has come so must the rain. The first day first show also had me booked by drenching me completely on my way to the last day in Office. Yes that's right, incidentally this is my last day I would ever enter- if I don't join it again- that campus of beautiful beetle shaped red building resembling some old british fort sorrounded by rocky green landscape. While leaving I had a drop or two flowing through my eyes getting lost in the rain.

Me and my wife have planned for a getaway for the next two days. As a part of it we are going to Badrachalam and papikondalu tour through AP Tourism. Strange as it may be that the last day of summer and first day of monsoon has been chosen as a getaway when it had to be the other way round. Immediately after this tour we are going to chennai and from there to Tirupati. So that's a lot of travelling till next weekend.

At 5'o clock in the morning we reached Badrachalam in khamam dist. Haritha hotel is a building with pent house style rooms with good greenery sorrounding it. After fresh up at around 6:30 in the morning we left To the famous Ram leela temple on the banks of river Godavari.

While getting down the bus the recitation of sundarakanda soothingly reached our ears. Every year Sita Ramula kalyanam is conducted here and is visited by thousands of people. It is called as Ayodhya of Andhra Pradesh and considered one of the holiest places. But as with all the holy places this too has been choking under incessant pressure of dealing with huge public. As you can see dirt and lot of waste strewn everywhere on the walk ways with house flies making merry on them emanating an unbearable smell. It didnt seem any body cleaned it over a period of time. The shrine was atop of a small hill and invited us with 80 odd steps with beggars on either side of each step as if they were the guardians of the temple.

As we ascended step by step so did the sounds of beggars of all ages begging (amma ayya.....) for thier share of coins too ascended to unbearable decibal levels. Two of them even managed to have a tangle and fought over a coin as to whose it was that was thrown at them. The begging at its best I probably have ever seen. The main mandapam where the statues of lord Rama and Sita are kept is made of sculpted black stone. As we reached the main abode, the chantings of the peaple ( jai Sri Ram) around me rose to a crescendo and it subsided after the statues were visible. After breakfast we left to paranasala about 35 km away.

The fresh breeze of river Godavari touched our faces even as the scourching sun was beating down on our heads. With Godavari in background Parnasala looked like a small movie set out of Bapu's Sita Ramula kalyanam with various kinds of shops leading up to a temple tempting the passers by with their own specialities. There is a piece of history attached to this place though. Rama, Sita and Lakshmana were here during their last three years of 14 years vanavasam. All this has been symbolically represented here with statues of Rama, Sita, Lakshmana along with their hut and Ravana abducting her. Also there is one rock on which it seems as per the folklore Sita had dried up her 40 feet saree after her bath. The marks of that saree are visible even today. It is called as ' Nara chira guruthulu'.

But one thing that stuck me is the extent of commercialization that's taking it's toll on these historical places. It clearly shows that we donot have any kind of respect and care for our own history. We as tourists just come round to have good time and take photos and forget about it after we leave. These places exist only as memories in our photo album. Those people cash in on the place popularity and set up their livlihood in these places thriving on it. But ultimately it's the place that is taking the beating with none caring for it's wellbeing. Those people thriving on it not just earn out of it but also make it dirty and filthy. In that process the rivers and ponds around are so polluted that you would shriek at the idea that Gods even bathed once here. It is hard to get any kind of devotion looking at these things.

Post lunch we took a 2 hour (75 km) drive to Pochavaram. Sandwiched between huge hills and Godavari river is Pochavaram a tribal village. From here we boarded the steamer to Papikondalu in Kollur. There was no signal in my phone here on. The guide anounced the start of the steamer. It slowly moved as if a tiger hidding in woods slowly moving to catch it's prey to give it a surprise. But our steamer never really gained speed as the level of water was pretty low. Using the depth meter it slowly traversed through the calm surface of the water cautiously wherever the depth was deep enough.

We reached the shore of Papikondalu just before sun set. Tea and Pakodas were served. Our night stay was at one of those 40 bamboo huts on the shore. Luckily we got a separate hut to stay. As the sun set the green hills turned darker like shadows of giant ghosts waiting to gobble. There was silence around except for few occasional gigles of tamilians gathered before thier hut. Should say this was one of the most unique experiences I have had until now. Huge hills on one side, Godavari on the other, no phone signals, no thinking about the world two days after. Laying down lazily on the soft sand beside our hut, looking at the crescent like moon in the dark blue sky perforated with stars, should be there to be experienced. Didnot know when I slept. Only gotup when my wife coerced me to at around 5 in the morning. We had a bath before anybody else and just walked around the shore in the pre- sun rise time. The beach of Kollur with our tourism steamer anchored, the freshness of the breeze over the still water of Godavari, our huts in hues of blue and yellow, people in it still lazily shifting in their sleep, all in all made an enticing experience. We had a chance to capture this ever so enthralling nature in our cameras.

At 8:00 after filling our stomach with some idlis, chutney and upma it was the time for some jungle walk. An halfanhour walk through the path criss-crossing the forest, Kollur tribal village and then through the hills of trees sided by the snake like canal of stream took us to this place. We enjoyed the stream for the rest of two hours diving, swimming and floating and taking snaps.

Post lunch we were all set to leave and sitting in our steamer. Suddenly we came to know that our neighbour's wife went missing. Aged about 80 yrs of age it was hard to see where would she go in the smeltering heat of the sun. It's tough to walk even 100 mts on those hot sands as you might be drained of your energy. May be she had fallen down and lost her consciousness. We had to search for about an hour but with out much success. Somebody from other boat gave information that she had left in another boat. So we hoped to see her at Pochavaram atleast.

On the way back we stopped at Parentapalli. Here we visited Ramakrishna ashram and Shiva temple. A huge neam tree with steps adjacent to it invited us. There were many toys made of bamboo on sale by the locals there. But I could not find even a single cool drink or water as I was really thirsty. It was only in other boat's canteen that I could find one cool water bottle.

Back in Pochampalli we came to our bus and also found our Neighbour's wife seated comfortably. She had her side of story to tell. She had boarded a different boat out of confusion. And they dropped her to Pochampalli all the way. But anyways her husband breathed a sye of relief having found her. It's been 60 years since they have been together and this was not the way they were supposed to part. As my heart also felt comfortable our bus left back to Bhadrachalam from where we will heading back to the pavilion- Hyderabad.

Lost in Kerala !!!!

Sitting in the chillness of AC two tier compartment of shabari express enroute to trivendrum we sighed a heave of relief from the incessant tantrums (advices of dos and donts) of our parents, as it slowly left behind the south central railway junction. It was hot mid afternoon but the enclosed cabin of ours did not let us know the outside temperature. We spoke about numerous things through out our journey.

Next day at 7 am the train reached Erode immediately after which Coimbatur came by. From here on I found a sudden change in the landscape with trees covering everyinch of hills and ridges, coconut trees being the major benificiary. Then there were a string of stations like Wayanad, Trissur, Palakkad, Shoranur etc all covered with the similar green blanket. On enquiry came to know that Coimbatur was the last stop of Tamilnadu and from there on we were in Kerala famously called as ' God's own country'.

At Shoranur the direction of the train changed as the engine that was pulling our compartment in the direction in which I was sitting started pulling it in the opposite way. Even I had to change my sitting position in line with the direction of the train. From here on it was like ride of my life. As the train trudged along in the forest of greenery on the serpentine like tracks my heart also just lingered along without even once thinking about the normal life. This was the best getaway that I can get at least this way at the end of the year. The sky started to get gloomier aiding to the beauty of the surroundings. Our 36 inch large LCD monitor like Relytuf glass window showed us the numerous pictures of nature in myriad hues. Large grasslands with buffalos chewing along, bordered with hills of tall and lean coconut trees, farm houses in red oxide coloredroofs, huge electric poles carrying wires on it's shoulders bifurcating the land. Two eyes and words wouldn't be enough to grasp the complete beauty of the exemplary nature.

The sleepy town of Ernakulam welcomed us with a whiff of fresh air as we entered the station. Many foreigners were standing near the door to get down. As this is the high season the rate of incoming tourists is also high. The taxi driver greeted us with a reverent smile and opened the back door to keep the luggage. It's a 2 HR drive to Komarakam, a village on the beautiful backwaters of Kerala adjacent to the lake vembanad. When we started, there was no rain at all and it was sunny too. As we neared the 200 km long backwaters the rain started playing hide and sick with heavy showers battering our AC Indica hatch back car now and nothing at all in seconds. A paradise of dazzling bays, lagoons and coves, Komarakam is home to stunning resorts and hotels which are upper crust, leisure destinations. Along the rain battered roads, our car driver took our journey fatigued souls to the resort where we would be staying.

Abad Whispering Palms lake resortis on a sprawling 10 acre land with the background of back waters and house boats sailing through them. This world class leisure resort has stylized individual villas, a plunge pool, private garden and back water front.

The sari clad receptionist escorted us to our pent house style Bamboo villa cottage. The cottage was nice and decent just for us two to spend some time. As the name suggested the roof was covered by bamboos and so was the wall of the back yard. Open air bath, exotic outdoor garden showers, private beach sit outs and glorious views of back waters were some of the attractions part of a privileged life style. After inquiring with our travel agent we came to know that there was no further program on the curriculum the whole day. So we just idled in the closed interiors of our room before going for a small walk. As we were having our coffee in the restaurant I unconsciously enjoyed the sound of flute coming from some where filling the evening air.

When we came out I realized that it was the light cultural program of instrumental music being held adjacent to the swimming pool. The soothing music, the full moon playing hide and seek in the cloudy sky reflected in the serene back waters, the surrounding still coconut trees, me sipping the coconut water from the straw laying down on the couch beside the swimming pool aaahhh!! Heaven, if at all there was one.

Next day after a plate of honey spruced pieces of banana, two wadas with cups of different kinds of chutnies- one made of coconut and other one with ground nuts, a glass of pine milkshake, a cup of coffee ( a great and filling breakfast mainly due to the fact that it was complimentary) we started of to Munnar 190 kms away. This time it was a different driver and looked like a typical malyali with the sandalwood tilak on the forehead. As soon as he opened the door of Mahindra Logon car a nice spacious perfumed interior invited us. The road was not as flat but as we neared

NH 49 it was good but quite narrow. Muvattupuzzha( spelt as muvattu pura - muva means 3 pura means river, a junction of 3 rivers) was one of the first stops along in highway. There we stopped to take some photos of the drum players. About 12 white lungi clad people standing in 3 rows rhythmically playing some traditional drums with remarkable unity that would make even Sivamani proud.

As we cruised along the narrow snake like road there were varieties of trees on either side of the road of which Pine trees and rubber trees were the most. Seeing at the limitless greenery I decided it was better to give rest to my eyes and put my head on the pillows and slept. By the time I got up, we had covered good distance and now we were swirling and twirling like a mad bull on rampage at 100 kmph on the ghat road that had a twist every 100 mts. I requested the driver to go a bit slow as the twister like ride made us feel like vomit. We prayed to reach as quickly as possible. We did stop in between to have a couple of mango pieces near a water fall as a quick breather. As we were nearing Munnar there was a sudden change in the landscape from a thick forest to neatly arranged tea estates on either side. We were good 9 miles away when we reached ambady estate where we would be spending the rest of the time as long as we are in Munnar. It was lunch time by the time we reached this place.Ambady estate looked very unusual to me to start of with. Right at the doorstep of Munnar beside the national highway it is nestled in the middle of a hilly forest interspersed with tea estate and thickly grown tree vegetation. The entrance hardly makes any attempt to attract your attention. Two rusted gates, a small square board of Ambady estate dangling to a pole on one side of it, a narrow ( didnt think there was enough space even for our car to enter) mud road ascending the hill in zig zag direction getting lost in the forest of trees is all that you can find. It looked like a setting straight out of a

horror movie like Evil Dead. Had it not been for the booking of the travel agent as a part of package I would have been very scared even to enter it. But as the car started to climb the carved out road it was a whole new world that met my eye. With out disturbing much of the natural beauty, 8 well done cottages made of local wood and mud exteriors offering a plethora of views to gaze upon were built upon different levels on the unevenly descending mountainous range. The manager smiled and welcomed us in his old fashioned and rustic hut like office. The main hall was well furnished along with a mini library that had various novels and history books of Kerala. He gave us tea made of various spices that had sweetish tinge of taste. After check-in formalities the office assistant showed us the way to our cottage through the narrow pathway covered by grass. The interior of our cottage had a very mild lighting and was well furnished with deewans and bed. For someone who is so used to the noisy city life, the silence of the woods especially in the night might be very haunting as even a small sound might be heard with magnified effect.

For the next two days we went on to visit in and around of the small at bustling with life town of Munnar. We visited the Kerala tourism run Hydel park, roamed the streets of the local market ( bought pain relieving oil and honey from adivasees there), speed boated in rain water of Mattupati dam (the best of all experiences), shopped handbags at the Echo point, learnt how the tea is manufactured in kannan Devan hills plantation manufacturing unit, traveled amidst tea estate to visit eravikulam national park and viewed the exhilarating performances of the local Kalaripayattu

practitioners performing the martial arts in front of spectators sitting in a gallery. The martial art performance was akin to watching a set of gladiators fighting for their lives. We also visited spices plantation and bought some of it while returning descending the hill back towards kochi. We reached Kochi in afternoon and spent rest of our time in the 19th floor of the 5 star Dream hotel. Next day we were supposed to leave back during early hours.

It was a great experience all in all except for a little out of tune effect in the form of delaying of our return train due to the derailing of a goods train. We were left biting our nails on the platform from early morning for about 4 hrs. From the comforts of a 5 star hotel we suddenly found ourselves fighting for sleep on the slippery steel chairs of the station waiting for the special train ( for the increased rush to Shabarimalay) whose interiors were quite ordinary. This we found out after boarding it.
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One rainy night at Venkatapuram - Part 2 (last Part)

The cellar was quite wet and windy – the effect of incessant rains. But in spite of this I felt my hands were sweating. Like distant waterfall in the hills that flowed in some zigzag motion channeling through the trees and hillocks, sweat was dropping down flowing through the forest of hair onto my wrinkled and worried forehead, its course of direction disturbed by the over sized black haired twin caterpillars like eyebrows on either sides to my billowed blabber like cheeks. A slight shiver not because of the chillness but a shudder caused somewhere from the left side of my chest spread to all parts of my body like a wave. As I walked to move out as quickly as possible from this state of discomfort I just looked side ways. There was no one but just felt as if some shadow just crossed overtaking me. Before I could understand what was happening that was gone.

Coming out of the cellar of my apartment I was walking on the rain battered and water laden muddy roads of venkatapuram (that’s the name of my area) that had street lights at every step but rarely giving light to the walkers. Looks like the government at last has woken up to the hardships faced by us people that they have decided to lay the cement roads. But the work is still incomplete due to the heavy rains (As usual even if it doesn’t rain) which is also the cause for further hardships with stones and chunks of cements scattered everywhere. From far I could see the Kirana Shop beside one of the dimmed but blinking street light. By the time I reached that shop there was some lady talking to the shop keeper whose back was visible in the blinking light. May be she was the usual customer but quite unusual to find a lady at this place at this hour.

With out looking at the shop keeper, in my own thoughts I asked for my usual brand of marlbrando cigarettes. As I took the money out of my pockets of my T-shirt to pay for the cigarettes casually I just looked at the face of the women standing there. They were the same dug up staring eyes. Some liquid was flowing through her nose, may be that was blood!!! The blinking light made that face even scarier with the hair falling on her eyes. Out of nowhere a small beetle like bug came out of one eye and crawled in the other one in a jiffy. Horrified!!!! I jumped at that very place with a scream that was half shut even before it barely arrived out of my mouth. The words of the shop keeper bringing me back in to this world. He asked me if I needed something else. I looked at his face to give the money for the cigarettes. Where was the face???? That was only a headless body. My heart at once galloped into my mouth at that sight. I looked side ways to see if the lady was still there. She was not there. It looked as if she just vanished in the thin air.

I started running from there towards my apartment as fast as my legs (any athlete would have been ashamed of) could carry my not so lanky body; to be precise the 110 kg burly mass of wobbling flesh covered barely by skin stitched together with muscles laced with loads of fat and supported by the framework of bones (I never felt them). The lift was not working any more. With out even thinking how I would reach my home ascending those stairs (This would be a Guinness World record if I do so) situated on the 7^th floor, I ran towards the staircase. As I crossed the ground floor I heard some kind of a hauling sound coming from somewhere. May be it was from the terrace. No!!! That was a cry. Initially it could be hardly heard. But as I kept ascending the steps with descending energy levels the shrillness of the cry gradually increased until it reached unbearable limits.

There with her head bent on her knees on the way to 6^th floor with all her air falling from over her head the night gown clad sobbing lady sat on the steps with her hands clasped on her head. The same stink of the dead body could be felt. Blood like stream of liquid oozing from somewhere scattered on the steps. There was silence now with the cry just stopped. I could hear nothing else but my breathing. This was the final step after which my home could be reached. But I have to cross this hurdle. Out of a lot of difficulty I filled my mind with some courage and tried to bypass her in the narrow space between her and the staircase wall.

She suddenly lifted her head with her hair flying over to her back. With screeching sounds like some kind of a bat she caught hold of my leg. In the dim light of the staircase I saw her crusted teeth with some kind of green colored liquid squirting out. With all the strength in the world I kicked her on the shoulder to escape her grasp. She fell on the other side. As I tried to run, my feet fell on the scattered liquid and slipped. I fell with my face downwards. With all force my chin hit the sharp edge of the step and my rest of the body pushed my head in the forward direction to make it skid through the smooth flooring of the stair case only to come to a halt when my head banged in to the wall of the staircase. The whole world revolved around me for a few seconds. My chin now resembled that of a ripped apple slit into two pieces fallen just from a tree. My whole face was ruptured with blood all over. Turning over I saw at the lady. Screeching and squealing intermittently, crawling on the steps and over to my body she brought her scary face directly on to mine, with her snake like tongue hanging……

Suddenly woke up. My whole body was wet covered by sweat. I was more than happy to realize that it was just a dream. I was not on my bed but looked like I had fallen of it in struggle with that scary lady in my dream. It was 3:00 AM. I was alone in my apartment as my parents had left to Ananthapur to attend some occasion. Still with 4 hours to go for the Sun to rise I relaxed on to my bed again.

Triiiiiiiing!!! The calling bell rang. Who could come at this odd hour?? My parents cannot come. Even friends cannot disturb me. May be??? With fear I proceeded towards the main door of my house. I saw through the key hole. Same starring dug up eyes. Same face was looking through the keyhole!!!!!

(The result of a just seen Horror movie with little madness added to it)

One rainy night at Venkatapuram - Part 1

At 11:30 in the night I Pressed the Lift Button. The railing see through doors of the lift opened. After entering it I directed it to the cellar. Slowly and slowly the lift started moving down. The heavy rain looks like has not stopped at as it was quiet wet everywhere with the water flowing from terrace to all the floors. I was headed towards nearby Kirana shop to have a cigarette puff. This is my usual daily habit of relaxing and also I consider this to be one of the (in fact just one) daily exercises that I can give to my already bulky body with flab jutting out from my sides pushing the stretched T-shirt (Double XL) after a day of – Fevicol ki masboot jod to a chair- mentally exhausting and Physically relaxing (but back spraining) software job.

As the lift crossed 6^th floor through the railing door of the lift, very unclearly through the foggy atmosphere on the balcony of one of the flats I could see a vague lady figure standing out. It was as if she had a head bath and just came out to get her hair dry. It was strange though - who would have head bath and come out to dry hair, that too at this rainy hour?? As I had moved to this apartment complex very recently, I hardly knew anyone. Hence with out putting too much of stress on my brain went ahead with the flow of the lift. Now the lift crossed the 4^th floor. Outside someone just moved somewhat swiftly from left to right. It was difficult to digest what I just saw. It was the same lady who was there in the 6^th floor. Even if I were to think if she was playing running around, there was hardly anybody else apart from her. At this hour what was the fun I couldn’t understand.

In the ground floor again the same lady was standing to board the lift. This time she was staring at me directly. With mixed feelings – Little fear and little Shyness – I too looked at her. The face was half visible with the other half covered by her flowing brownish hair. Initially her skin seemed very fair but on deeper look I felt there was something in that color. It was as if the skin was half burnt and the fairness being the result of that. The eyes of her as if dug up in between the crater caused by the walls of her nose, cheeks and eyebrows. She also had grayish circles circling her eyes. Those eyes were searching something in my face. I do not know whether it was the proximity of the distance between her and me or my nostrils being over sensitive, I felt suffocated with the emanating stink from her that smelt like that of a dead body.

The lift stopped with a thud at the cellar. The watchman’s dog always slept beside the lift. As I kept my foot out opening the doors it looked at me and started barking instantly so loudly that it caught me unprepared. Usually fearful of dogs- because of the lesson learnt to never play with your friend’s pet even if it’s just a puppy after I was pierced 11 times round my bulging tummy as soft as a dough cake from a rabbit teethed sneering animal doctor, after the puppy dug its teeth onto my right leg. After barking continuously for few minutes the watch man’s dog ran away as if it suddenly realized the presence of my bulky frightening( to say the least) figure. I could not fathom whether the dog that hardly ever made its presence felt was barking at me or something else behind me. Was there really something behind me?????

Shopping at Tnagar in Chennai one evening.

We had come to chennai all the way from Hyderabad via tirupati to do my wedding shopping. Named on the legendary poet Thyagaraja, Tnagar (Thyagaraja nagar) is a bustling locality where it seems whole chennai congregates to do some serious cloths shopping with almost all the rich and famous silk saree houses located in this area in a span of 1 km. After reaching my cousins house 1 hour from central railway station we had a lunch and a quick nap. We started to this place at around 4:00 in the evening reaching it one hour hence. As we got down the regional transport bus we were welcomed by a sea of people inundating the whole area where the tall buildings looked like some kind of ships docked to the shores floating on the sea. We then trudged along the forest of people like an army of cadets if not as agile, who were on a mission to save people kidnapped by Naxalites, only difference being that our mission was to buy some sarees. I say it as a mission because looking at the crowd made me feel as if buying a single saree there would dwarf even the triumph of conquring Mount Everest. As we passed shop after shop like shore after shore, I felt we were getting submerged under the incessant waves of people hitting us hard without respite. In between all this there were also some cars and two wheelers like hills and rocks in the sea changing our course of direction from time to time. It was hard to digest such an unprecedented crowd as we were struggling to even breath forget about staying together. With deepavali still three weeks away if this was the situation I would be scared to think what would it be during the festival days. My guess would be that we got to enter into some new avatars like spiderman or superman flying above everyone or walking over the ceiling upside down.

Out of a lot of diffulty we managed to find one shop which we chose to buy some sarees. But the queue to enter it with so many of them trying to out do each other made it look as holy as the abode of lord venkateshwara of tirupati which we visited a day before standing in queues for hours together even after paying hefty darshan fees of Rs 300. We also lost the same amount to a con jeep driver on the pretext of driving us to tirumala being a different story. The 5 floors huge shop looked small and spaceless with so many people occupying every inch of the space. Had it not been my wedding shopping I would never have entered the locality forget about the shop. There were several counters with different ranges of prices to different varieties of sarees. The mission that I had was to select three sarees to be given to my fiancée for three occasions while my parents's mission was to buy sarees which will be given to the near and far relatives who would visit. Muhurtham, Nagavalli and Reception were three of the occasions.

Finally we were out after buying just 3 Saree which took us about 4 hours. It was finally a relief as we were completely dehydrated but nevertheless it was a good experience.

Horrified!!!!@Toronto

It was 11:00 in the night and raining heavily in Toronto. Returning after shopping, parked my car in the dingy basement of my 20 floor apartment which had tube lights flickering here and there. There was not even a single soul around. The whole place looked very gloomy as if filled by some kind of snowy smoke like never before. I always dreaded this kind of atmosphere because back in India it is always crowded any time and it was still initial days here. I had to carry all the shopping bags myself and out of a lot of difficulty walked all the way to the extreme right corner of the basement crossing several rows of darkness and pressed the Lift button. As I waited for the lift I felt a sudden gush of chilly wind from some where that made me frenzy. I looked around to see that it was coming from a small enclosure in the ventilator.

As the lift descended from above I could hear the beep sounds and the numbers on the digital board beside the lift button changing in decreasing order to come to a stand still at -1. The doors of the lift opened and I stepped into the four walls covered by mirrors and pressed the number 13 button. As if the chillness was following me I felt even chillier inside the lift. I couldn’t understand the reason for this as there was neither fan nor any gap through which wind would flow. The lift stopped on the 3^rd floor and the doors opened. But there was no one to enter as if some one waited and waited for the lift to arrive and left through stairs when it did not come. The chillness did not abate even after the doors opened. Infact it seemed to have increased by a degree or two. I heaved a sigh of relief as the lift came to a halt with the number reading as 13.

As the door opened I saw one of the tenants with her pet dog. Usually a calm dog barked so loudly that it scared me and ran away hurriedly taking his master along. I then understood that it was not barking at me rather at something behind me. I just looked around to make sure that there was no one except me and my chillness. But it did dent my confidence and filled my heart with fear. It is about 100 meters from lift to my flat. As usual the whole corridor was deserted and had to cross the several closed doors of other flats to walk to my flat. With so many bags in my hand I decided to keep some of them on the floor so that I can take them on the second turn.

As I walked, though with so much of chillness around I had sweat dropping over my forehead. I could hear my heartbeat echoing through the shrilling silence of the corridors. Nobody was there around but felt as if something was following me all along. Was it my feeling or really happening? Unsurely I trudged along. Reached my flat door, searched my pockets for the keys and opened the door. The moment I opened the door the chillness was gone and I was invited by the air that normally flows from the window in the kitchen. I kept the bags inside the hall and ran back to pick the rest of them. From far I could see a faint figure of a lady in huge gown like dress with short hair standing along side of my bags. Before I reached the place it was gone so were my bags. I couldn’t understand whether I was dreaming or was having some kind of a memory loss. These days I have been forgetting a lot. May be this was also one of those cases. I got back to my flat only to find that my bags were already there. This was a shocker as well as horrific to me.

Next day I woke up with a heavy head. I had to drink coffee to shake it off. In the evening edition of the newspaper as I was turning the papers, came across some pages with excerpts from some of the people leaving in the same area as I do. They seemed to have experienced some kind of a super natural phenomenon similar to what I faced. This caused a flutter in my heart and this fear remained for ever whenever I parked my car in the basement.