Kallola

Emirates Parent Plus. April 2010. Five perfectly formed, shining examples of excellence lay neatly arranged in the order of their size on my little fighter’s palm. Fighter, because he had gone off in a huff, to do my own thing , after grudgingly doing me the favour of drinking his evening milk down to the last drop. The shining examples were five clay models of vegetables that he moulded in the anger of having to do tea at tea-time. Of course, it didn’t come free – but more of that in a bit. He does this to me often. Eating quickly enough, just doing anything without a well-wrought explanation, not stopping a task to why? at everything (this is Why?- Phase II; you will be subjected, resistance is futile) are all events I have to be grateful for. And when any of these rare feats is achieved, God knows, I am eternally grateful. Then he takes off stomping and returns before I could have regained my breath, with a stunner. Maybe for only a little, teeny, weeny while, but at that...

Bangalore Mirror. Tuesday, 23, February, 2010 http://www.bangaloremirror.com/index.aspx?page=others&do=/blogs/default. I was born in this city and all my adult consciousness has been moulded in its quiet tenacity. Firm ambition laced in placid motives somehow silted by the shores of tradition and I trudged back home. Only, home was not what I had left behind. Home, I took with me in my heart and that’s where it dwells now – there’s no disputing it: Bangalore is not familiar anymore. That’s until more returnees surface and crunch, like a force, down ruffled alleys into old nooks that will not change. And within those resilient walls, flavours continue their dance in tandem with quick-footed and practiced waiters who know exactly what their purpose in life is: tireless service to those who walk in and groom their individual banana leaves of perfect proportion, colour and, soon, content. Like a happy infection, the spirit takes over within moments. It’s like sitting in a sep...

Deccan Herald. Sunday, 03, January, 2010 http://www.deccanherald.com/content/44496/tracking-history-time.html The Temple of Divine Caesar immortalized the greatest ruler of the largest empire in history, by inscribing his words ‘Veni, Vedi, Vici’ on the altar erected where his body was cremated. While each and every remnant of Roman imperialism that stretches across the Forum opposite the legendary Colloseum evokes strange feelings of awe and humility, this temple held my attention a moment longer than most. Snippets and visions loomed large and after an emotionally draining experience of touring the Colloseum earlier, dreamy tales of each ruin in the Forum lofted me into ages most delectably drawn in Shakespearean reams. Noting numbers that bore little relevance to him as ‘dates’, my son had already put forth a remarkable query to me as I dragged my very tired feet from pillar to shrine to palace fronts. A year later, the same question was asked of me, this time very clearly: w...

Bangalore Mirror. Monday 02 November 2009. http://www.bangaloremirror.com/index.aspx?page=others&do=epaper The city’s rather exuberant traffic has given me more than a fair share of Bangalore Bombaat ness to revel in. The timing of something that happened recently, still cracks me up. Fade in: RT Nagar traffic junction just after the Hebbal flyover. I was among the first line of vehicles. Having just caught up with my friend soon after my recent return, I was relying on the movement of other motorists around me instead of paying attention to the traffic lights ahead. As engines started to rev., I pushed the pedal and inched forward before noticing that the green light was still off. A good few vehicles had sped past and I hesitated, though way ahead of the stop line. As a driver still outsmarted by continually reformed and ill-marked roads, my perplexity was mounting to near panic. My friend had gone completely quiet and I was effectively solo. Never to be beaten, th...

Bangalore Mirror. Friday Oct 23, 2009. With all this talk about Chandrayaan finding water on the Moon and others finding ways to challenge its potability on Earth and still others ever more determined to blast the last rocks there to squeeze out whatever it can from the regolith, the gushing vision of life-saving hydrant pouring down from the heavens above, for the time being, stays hypothetic. Wonder what a vaastu expert’s take would be on this. To which direction of the orient would the moon be of us earthlings? Whatever the order there, Mr (or Ms depending on your parent culture) Moon has been quite a talking point nevertheless. And with my little boy on the watch, the cosmic forces always point to one plane – entertainment. There must have been some strong lunar vibrations even on that day then, when on his first solo net crawl, he happened to land on a web page on, who else but moon-man, Neil Armstrong! That week at school, the topic of exploration in English was the Articles, ...

Emirates Parent Plus. March 2010. Smiling through nothing more than a snooze after an entire week of exasperating sleep deprivation, I looked at my son, smart in his crisp whites, chin-up and thrilled to be back in school after a long and well-deserved break. Having beat the rush hour, we reached school unexpectedly early that morning and with all room doors still shut and maintenance staff only just trickling in, there was not much else to do but wait. The virtually empty school building worsened the heaviness in my eyes as we sat there, just the two of us, my little boy leaning on my knee. It’s been a year since we officially started life in Bangalore and one question repeated itself through the fatigue weighing me down into the cold steps outside the classroom: “Is there anything I wouldn’t do for my child?” Again, I looked at his beaming face, now bobbing up and down along the row of floor tiles, when my eye caught the poster on the wall behind him. Boldly calligraphed was:...

I never know what will bolt out of Space when my little boy is on the watch. Under his visor, this week, was a web page on Neil Armstrong. At school, having covered a short chapter on the astronaut, it so happened that my son’s first internet search on the man, coincidently, presented itself on July 20, exactly 40 years to the day Mr Armstrong first stepped on the surface of the moon. Small step. Beat 1. In the Language part of the same subject, the current topic of exploration is the Articles, a , an and the . We had completed an extensive worksheet and other exercises, by the end of which my son was quite a little master of their usage. This is what shocked me earlier. He repeatedly intoned: “The-is-used-with-a-par-ti-cu-lar-noun-or-with-the-name-of-some-thing-that-is-one-of-its-kind. The-is-called-the-de-fi-nite-arti-cle. The-in-de-fi-nite-arti-cle-is-used-be-fore-a-common-noun-that-is-sing-ular-in-num-ber. A-is-used-bef-ore-a-con-so-nant-and-an-is-used-be-fore-a-vowel-sound. They-a...

Deccan Herald. Sunday, June 14, 2009 http://www.deccanherald.com/content/7909/a-truly-poetic-extravaganza.html Why pull a page out of history when you can step right into the book? And in a repository of such eminence, every single step I took bore the entire awe and reverence of my being. The art connoisseur’s fantasy, the historian’s paradise, the devotee’s sanctorum and the cynic’s crucible, this sovereign city-state, seat to the catholic authority − the Holy See − contains itself within two succinct square miles of the city of Rome. Like a jewel, Vatican City stands, tucked within its impenetrable walls, in the middle of all the din and razzmatazz that the Italian capital is famous for. Inside, its serenity is as imposing as its flamboyant opulence. Where the present is a breathtaking legacy of yore and the past just eyefuls above, the psyche becomes a humble melting pot of emotions that linger on forever. In this vast conglomeration of museums beyond compare, each sculpture, paint...

Deccan Herald. Sunday, May 24, 2009. Edited as : An Alternate Modern Twist www.deccanherald.com/content/4122/an-alternate-modern-twist.html It was cold. And rainy. And grey. With the BBC weatherman promising cloud upon cloud for the next three days, spring-time London couldn’t hope to get more Londonesque. To beat it, we couldn’t find a better time to get more ‘un’Londonesque. So while most Londoners travelled away to the respite of holiday lands, we stayed put to enjoy the city-in-respite without the crowds, inching traffic and congestion charge. Destination: Tate Britain. Now before you tense your forehead, let me also add that we had in tow, our excited son full of seven-year-old beans. Yes, I am still talking about ‘the’ Tate, and what was expected to be a rather sombre journey through 500 years of British art and situational history, quickly turned into an invigorating little excursion, most enjoyed by our delighted little boy. Time has certainly moved on fast. If we are here in ...

Deccan Herald. Sunday, March 22, 2009. Edited as : Turning over a neem leaf http://www.deccanherald.com/Content/Mar222009/sundayherald20090320125295.asp In a reversal of roles, the hunter becomes the hunted and clambers up a leafy tree to escape the tiger. Night falls and the tree remains his sole refuge. Fearful and hungry, his restive fingers incessantly pluck leaves off the branches, dropping them below. By day break, the tiger is clearly out of range, so the hunter lowers himself to the ground and spots a heap that the leaves he had been dropping through the night, had made. He also spots that the tree that gave him shelter was a Bilwa tree and the heap of leaves had made a mound on a Shivalinga . Instead of foolishly defying the animal or running aimlessly in sight of it, he trusted his instinct and gained succor of a tree that shaded him from danger. His adversary at bay, he walked into freedom. Little did he realize, then, that his hunting days were over, and not just instinct,...