The local fisherman arrived at the back door with a seemingly heavy bucket, Ammu was very inquisitive and wanted to have a good view of inside of the contents. She had just given birth to three kittens and was out for her morning catch.
Rameshan dug his salty , fish scale studded hand into bucket , back in a flash dripping wet with finger sized white prawns that he quickly flung over to Ammu. In a quick dash Ammu was grabbed them and was on her way to the old house with prawns held in her mouth for a family breakfast.
My aunt thanked Rameshan and placed some orders for the next day. I began to wonder how he could catered to this customized order , how he could catch some king fish and some tiger prawns , does he know where find them in the sea ? Do fish of a scale school together too? This kind of home delivery right from the sea and at very nominal prices was something we never get back in the city.
That’s when it struck me.
----------------------------------------
We reached the tree lined bank of the coconut tree lined backwaters, just a stones' throw away from my grandparents place. My eyes were sinking in the eternal greenery , the dropping coconut trees, the gentle flow of the river .There was a bit of caution for the grazing white cow which had been tied with a long rope to the wooden stump.
“Will we catch a Shark?” asked Pachu with eyes filled with innocence and determination.
“May be , But how will be take it back?” I asked him.
Pachu ,Appu and Ammu my two little nephews and one little niece were silenced by this question, they got into deep thought wondering how they would get the shark out of the water and get it back home.
I remembered a Tom and Jerry cartoon , where Tom cat went fishing and he used Jerry mouse as the bait. Our fishing equipment was simple. Fishing strings or Tangis about five meters in length, with one end tied to a short stick that we picked up on the way, the other end with a small U shaped metal hook whose pointed end had a smaller wedge to prevent any fish who took the bait from swimming free. We had tied small stone just inches away from the hook, in order to add some weight for us to throw the full lengh of string farther into the river and also to allow it to sink into the water.
Now came the part where we need to take position, fix the bait and swing far into the water for some luck. The fixing the bait part was something I dint like much, as usually the baits used were earthworms, we had to dig up some wet patches and find the wriggly red worms. It always used to give me a very yucky feeling to touch there creatures especially when you needed to pierce their mid section onto the fishing hook. On the other hand the kids enjoyed playing with the freshly dug out worms, sometimes torturing the poor things.
This time round, Appu had smuggled some of the fresh white prawns to be used as bait, saving us the trouble of looking for the farmer’s best friend. Using prawns as bait had never occurred to me, prawns and that too the size we had got today would have burned a huge hole in the pocket back in the city, here it was just a catch away.
All set we flung the stones tied to the Tangis as far as we could into the water. My fishing string was just about two meters in length as I had donated most of the long string to my younger cousins. As a result my fishing area was very close to the rocky bank. The water flowed smoothly just a few feet below from where we were perched.
“Kitti! Kitti! “ Appu exploded in excitement when he felt a tug on his string.
We quickly pulled it up, an empty hook emerged..no sign of the half prawn that was the bait.
Appu showcased a serious look on his face , he quickly reloaded the bait and this time threw the stone even farther into the river. He would avenge the stealth of his prawn.
All four waited again with baited breath. Two fisherman passed by us in their wooden canoe , their swirled with the nets just like in the discus throwers in the National games and cast their blooming nets like spiders web into the river. Appu seemed unmoved by this activity, Pachu however was interested in the kingfisher that had just swooped in the water and was out in a flash with a small fish in its sharp beak. Perched on the rotten branch of a tree, it was preparing to swallow the fish head first. Ammu was getting a bit impatient and was occasionally looking back at the cow that had by now stopped grazing and was rubbing itself against the rough side of a the coconut tree.
“Pambe , Pambe!” screamed Appu as he some snake like creature in the water very close to where my bait ping ponged in the water. It was a snake indeed. A very small one the size of my arm and maybe just an inch wide. It was green and black with a pointed mouth.
All the kids clambered from their seats and rushed towards me. I moved the bait closer to the snake. I felt like a puppeteer using the string to control the prawn in the water. The snake moved very close to the bait, looking for something between the rocks on the bank. And bang! In one quick dash the my prawn disappeared into the snakes mouth. I felt the tug immediately.
“Pull it up, Pull it up!” yelled the kids in excitement.
I moved sideways and one quick jolt the snake was out of the water onto the sandy bank. All wriggly and struggling to break free. It kept twisting and turning so much around itself that I feared it would knot itself. That’s when I realized it was not a snake, it was an Eel.
Appu was all set to beat it to pulp with a wooden stick, Ammu and Pachu we clinging on to me in awe .The shiny scaly skin of the eel was getting dirty in the mud and leaves. The eel was getting ready to give in, unable to spit out its last free meal.
To Appu’s despair I swung the string back into the water. The eel was clean again, then like a miracle it pulled itself free and shot for the gap between the rocks. Its head emerging out , probably cursing us for attempted murder or for thanking lord for its saved life.
The kids were back into action. We wound up in some time, heading back with an empty fishing bag but with the heart full of pride of having caught an eel.My aunt was standing at the doorstep when we returned. Looking at the new breed of fishermen who had returned from their mission, she asked.
“ So where’s the shark ? we have invited the whole village for lunch!”
“We caught a big eel, this BIG” said Pachu extending his arms wide open and eyes almost popping out,” but this Chetan let it go!”.
---------------------------------------------------------------------
Friday, December 31, 2010
Thursday, December 30, 2010
Me a Butterfly
2:00 P.M
A time we all clock by every day, but something magical happens to most us at this particular time on a particular day…like a butterfly trying to knock the insides of the dark cold cocoon…our restlessness starts. The thick heavy eyebrows that are arched across the temple start to ease and relax. Like the LED that starts to blink when an electronic timer is switched on for the first time…..our internal clock triggers its own timer that starts its countdown to 5:00 PM.
Yes it’s has to be a Friday and almost every working soul experiences this rush. There is a complete transformation from the white collar blackberried boy to the straw hatted , tropical flower garland bearing beer belly boy . By 5:00 PM all the cocoons are broken open, the butterfly stretches its wings the first time, gently flaps it open , displaying the ornate and vibrant wings that are put in place for this special moment , puffed up with life, off they flutter away…flying free and feeling lighter ……
Most butterflies land up on advertising flowers that emanate mesmerizing fragrances and serve up the most savory nectars. We too head to the most popular waterholes with the best draught beer in town.
On one such Friday , I got a call from a friend.
“ Macha, come to Mysore ! “
“Dai, I am in office da….but wait a minute I think I’m coming! ”
---------*----------*---------*----------*---------*----------*---------*----------*
11 P.M Friday
“Lets catch the sunrise at Chamundi hills !!”
“We can drive down or hey why not take the steps all the way up?”
“What time are you guys looking at? 8 Am ?? “. That was Chandu.
---------*----------*---------*----------*---------*----------*---------*----------*
5:00 A.M Saturday
“Wake Calvin Up, he is in the other lodge right?”
Three alarms and three snoozes later it was Chandu who was up and ready to drive up to hills. All the five jumped into the car parked outside Relax Inn.
We were cruising past the dim lit streets of Mysore , Calvin was giving us the directions. For it was almost a dream run to get all five awake, ready and in the car before Sunrise.
It was then that we suddenly came to a bustling junction , there were people all around with sacks of vegetables, empty bags, fresh leaves , fruits all swarming the road. I was finding it hard to drive as even my headlights were not able to pierce through the market crowd.
Some reversing, some honking, some swearing finally got us out of the stubborn vegetable market, Phew! All I hoped was that we still remain as fresh as the fruits we saw …..
A winding road, a few sharp bends and we almost up the Chamundi .
Now the challenge was to find the best spot to see the sunrise.
“Sunrise is always on the east, so let’s stop somewhere on the right of the road!” Calvin advised.Since we had many more brilliant advisors we went from spot to spot asking which place is the best to stop and watch. We finally zeroed in, stopped near the hillock with a small temple like structure on top, what we called the mantapa.
Five of us ran up the steps and yes it was indeed offered a great view. The mantapa looked quite old with moss patched stone pedestal with four stone pillars and a small dome. The structure was surrounded was a small wall. The SLR camera’s were out and clicking.
That’s when we noticed, we were not the only ones there. Two more people were looking away from us and onto something they had. Tea ! I thought imagining a steal can and plastic cups …It would be just perfect to sip on hot tea , early in the morning on top of hills.
As soon as I stopped hallucinating, I realized they were not tea sellers but probably students, very young students maybe just entered college. Maybe they were lovers who came here for a special morning dose.
That’s when the girl spoke “Excuse me, it’s my birthday , please have a piece of cake!”
As we wished her and dug ourselves into a cream cake, all my sympathies for the boy who must have planned a very special birthday for his girlfriend. Was also equally appreciative of the next generation, he had actually managed to get his girlfriend out early on her birthday on top of hills on his wiry bike. Just that we had barged in and stole their privacy.
Before the cake was over, the couple was galloping off to the next stop on the wiry bike, the princess strapping her arms around her romantic prince.
Legend has it that the demon Mahishasura was done to death by goddess Chamundi right here, luckily the demons that gate crashed got away with a piece of cake!
---------*----------*---------*----------*---------*----------*---------*----------*
7:00 A.M Saturday
“English breakfast at Lalith Mahal Palace?” I asked
No one was interested in a five star breakfast on a low budget trip, but they did cave in after some amount of persuasion and Lo! We drove past the majestic gates of the Lalith Mahal Palace.
The While house like building shone in the morning sunlight like while clothes that are freshly washed in Ujala, the great Indian liquid blue. I had imagined breakfast by the poolside or on the lawn, but here the restaurant was the main Durbar hall. So somehow I too dropped the idea of having breakfast here. It wasn’t difficult to spread the feeling too.
We did lighten ourselves at the Royal Maharaja Loo before we left.
As they say some believe in the best , some relieve in the best!.
7:30 A.M Saturday
As we drove out of the Lalita Mahal Palace , we saw a few men playing cricket in the open ground. Open grounds that are free on a weekend? Yes it is still true in Mysore. Back in Bangalore it is almost impossible due to the high population, most of the kids are grounded without grounds.I always carried a cricket bat in the dickey of my car, maybe this is when I would really some into play.
“Do you have an extra ball? Or else do you want to play a match with us?”
The captain looked at me , seeming to know that none of us might have played cricket for a long time.
“We are five, and I guess are five too, what say? “ i asked.
“We are almost done, we were about to wrap up”
“Just one quick match, 5 overs each, single side fielding ?” i smiled
That was it, we won the toss and elected to bat….
I think with age I have grown patient as I cannot imagine not starting to bat from the first ball when I was the captain and had elected to bat. In fact I was not even getting impatient when my team was not losing wickets early on. Then I did my turn.
Managed to hit some singles and one straight four, feeling all good.
My team did pretty well even though we lost the match, it was fun to play.
This time with your feet close to the ground.
---------*----------*---------*----------*---------*----------*---------*----------*
8:00 A.M Saturday
You would mistake this place to be a just another shop if you passed by , there were no significant boards, no winding queues, no parking problems….. I guess its to do with the time, the sleepy city was just to wake up to think about breakfast.
The small unassuming hotel has a small cash counter at the entrance and two rows of tables. The small wooden tables have equally small chairs. Once the rush starts people await their turn four hours to fit themselves into the little space left between the chair and the table. We had to distribute ourselves to two tables as each table could fit only four and we were five.
Dosas and idlis arrived at our table in a jiffy, the dosa was a bit smaller in size than then masala dosas that we get in the Bangalore darshinis, they were also just fried till they got a slight golden shine not the golden brown we were used to. There was a piece of unsalted butter simmering on top of the dosa. It gave away easily as I broke up a piece using my thumb, index and fore finger. It melted almost evaporated when I placed in my mouth.
Man this was truly the best dosa I have ever had. The coconut chutney adding its sting to the otherwise bland potato masala of golden roast dosa. The idlis were also very soft and fluffy but it came a second best to the ones I have had.
I requested the waiter to be shown inside the kitchen from where this magic was being born. We did take in me proudly to a a dim lit room, the metal stove plate they used to roast the dosas were over 50 years old , they used the wood to fuel the fire instead of LPG, probably this gave them the best heat to roast the dosa. The dosa mixture was a well kept secret , the cooks eyes shone as he mentioned the words “ idhu secret saar!”.
We sipped aromatic filter coffee sitting on the small step outside the restaurant….looking at the city beginning to wake up now, the hotel had also started to get busier..as we were sinking in the goodness of food, we saw a kid running behind her mom. She happened just turn towards us and i thought she had a smile on her face. I could give it back with the same innocence…for a moment was as happy as she was.
---------*----------*---------*----------*---------*----------*---------*----------*
A time we all clock by every day, but something magical happens to most us at this particular time on a particular day…like a butterfly trying to knock the insides of the dark cold cocoon…our restlessness starts. The thick heavy eyebrows that are arched across the temple start to ease and relax. Like the LED that starts to blink when an electronic timer is switched on for the first time…..our internal clock triggers its own timer that starts its countdown to 5:00 PM.
Yes it’s has to be a Friday and almost every working soul experiences this rush. There is a complete transformation from the white collar blackberried boy to the straw hatted , tropical flower garland bearing beer belly boy . By 5:00 PM all the cocoons are broken open, the butterfly stretches its wings the first time, gently flaps it open , displaying the ornate and vibrant wings that are put in place for this special moment , puffed up with life, off they flutter away…flying free and feeling lighter ……
Most butterflies land up on advertising flowers that emanate mesmerizing fragrances and serve up the most savory nectars. We too head to the most popular waterholes with the best draught beer in town.
On one such Friday , I got a call from a friend.
“ Macha, come to Mysore ! “
“Dai, I am in office da….but wait a minute I think I’m coming! ”
---------*----------*---------*----------*---------*----------*---------*----------*
11 P.M Friday
“Lets catch the sunrise at Chamundi hills !!”
“We can drive down or hey why not take the steps all the way up?”
“What time are you guys looking at? 8 Am ?? “. That was Chandu.
---------*----------*---------*----------*---------*----------*---------*----------*
5:00 A.M Saturday
“Wake Calvin Up, he is in the other lodge right?”
Three alarms and three snoozes later it was Chandu who was up and ready to drive up to hills. All the five jumped into the car parked outside Relax Inn.
We were cruising past the dim lit streets of Mysore , Calvin was giving us the directions. For it was almost a dream run to get all five awake, ready and in the car before Sunrise.
It was then that we suddenly came to a bustling junction , there were people all around with sacks of vegetables, empty bags, fresh leaves , fruits all swarming the road. I was finding it hard to drive as even my headlights were not able to pierce through the market crowd.
Some reversing, some honking, some swearing finally got us out of the stubborn vegetable market, Phew! All I hoped was that we still remain as fresh as the fruits we saw …..
A winding road, a few sharp bends and we almost up the Chamundi .
Now the challenge was to find the best spot to see the sunrise.
“Sunrise is always on the east, so let’s stop somewhere on the right of the road!” Calvin advised.Since we had many more brilliant advisors we went from spot to spot asking which place is the best to stop and watch. We finally zeroed in, stopped near the hillock with a small temple like structure on top, what we called the mantapa.
Five of us ran up the steps and yes it was indeed offered a great view. The mantapa looked quite old with moss patched stone pedestal with four stone pillars and a small dome. The structure was surrounded was a small wall. The SLR camera’s were out and clicking.
That’s when we noticed, we were not the only ones there. Two more people were looking away from us and onto something they had. Tea ! I thought imagining a steal can and plastic cups …It would be just perfect to sip on hot tea , early in the morning on top of hills.
As soon as I stopped hallucinating, I realized they were not tea sellers but probably students, very young students maybe just entered college. Maybe they were lovers who came here for a special morning dose.
That’s when the girl spoke “Excuse me, it’s my birthday , please have a piece of cake!”
As we wished her and dug ourselves into a cream cake, all my sympathies for the boy who must have planned a very special birthday for his girlfriend. Was also equally appreciative of the next generation, he had actually managed to get his girlfriend out early on her birthday on top of hills on his wiry bike. Just that we had barged in and stole their privacy.
Before the cake was over, the couple was galloping off to the next stop on the wiry bike, the princess strapping her arms around her romantic prince.
Legend has it that the demon Mahishasura was done to death by goddess Chamundi right here, luckily the demons that gate crashed got away with a piece of cake!
---------*----------*---------*----------*---------*----------*---------*----------*
7:00 A.M Saturday
“English breakfast at Lalith Mahal Palace?” I asked
No one was interested in a five star breakfast on a low budget trip, but they did cave in after some amount of persuasion and Lo! We drove past the majestic gates of the Lalith Mahal Palace.
The While house like building shone in the morning sunlight like while clothes that are freshly washed in Ujala, the great Indian liquid blue. I had imagined breakfast by the poolside or on the lawn, but here the restaurant was the main Durbar hall. So somehow I too dropped the idea of having breakfast here. It wasn’t difficult to spread the feeling too.
We did lighten ourselves at the Royal Maharaja Loo before we left.
As they say some believe in the best , some relieve in the best!.
7:30 A.M Saturday
As we drove out of the Lalita Mahal Palace , we saw a few men playing cricket in the open ground. Open grounds that are free on a weekend? Yes it is still true in Mysore. Back in Bangalore it is almost impossible due to the high population, most of the kids are grounded without grounds.I always carried a cricket bat in the dickey of my car, maybe this is when I would really some into play.
“Do you have an extra ball? Or else do you want to play a match with us?”
The captain looked at me , seeming to know that none of us might have played cricket for a long time.
“We are five, and I guess are five too, what say? “ i asked.
“We are almost done, we were about to wrap up”
“Just one quick match, 5 overs each, single side fielding ?” i smiled
That was it, we won the toss and elected to bat….
I think with age I have grown patient as I cannot imagine not starting to bat from the first ball when I was the captain and had elected to bat. In fact I was not even getting impatient when my team was not losing wickets early on. Then I did my turn.
Managed to hit some singles and one straight four, feeling all good.
My team did pretty well even though we lost the match, it was fun to play.
This time with your feet close to the ground.
---------*----------*---------*----------*---------*----------*---------*----------*
8:00 A.M Saturday
You would mistake this place to be a just another shop if you passed by , there were no significant boards, no winding queues, no parking problems….. I guess its to do with the time, the sleepy city was just to wake up to think about breakfast.
The small unassuming hotel has a small cash counter at the entrance and two rows of tables. The small wooden tables have equally small chairs. Once the rush starts people await their turn four hours to fit themselves into the little space left between the chair and the table. We had to distribute ourselves to two tables as each table could fit only four and we were five.
Dosas and idlis arrived at our table in a jiffy, the dosa was a bit smaller in size than then masala dosas that we get in the Bangalore darshinis, they were also just fried till they got a slight golden shine not the golden brown we were used to. There was a piece of unsalted butter simmering on top of the dosa. It gave away easily as I broke up a piece using my thumb, index and fore finger. It melted almost evaporated when I placed in my mouth.
Man this was truly the best dosa I have ever had. The coconut chutney adding its sting to the otherwise bland potato masala of golden roast dosa. The idlis were also very soft and fluffy but it came a second best to the ones I have had.
I requested the waiter to be shown inside the kitchen from where this magic was being born. We did take in me proudly to a a dim lit room, the metal stove plate they used to roast the dosas were over 50 years old , they used the wood to fuel the fire instead of LPG, probably this gave them the best heat to roast the dosa. The dosa mixture was a well kept secret , the cooks eyes shone as he mentioned the words “ idhu secret saar!”.
We sipped aromatic filter coffee sitting on the small step outside the restaurant….looking at the city beginning to wake up now, the hotel had also started to get busier..as we were sinking in the goodness of food, we saw a kid running behind her mom. She happened just turn towards us and i thought she had a smile on her face. I could give it back with the same innocence…for a moment was as happy as she was.
---------*----------*---------*----------*---------*----------*---------*----------*
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