Friday, April 29, 2005
Of Solitude, Coelho and Kurkure!!
As the road spirals upwards like a python, devouring hitch-hikers, bikers, cars and the occasional Lorries in its misty murk, we stop to look back at the path so far traveled. This is no travelogue like the ones we used study in school text-books but I tell you this, in an upward journey it always pays to occasionally stop, sit back and stare-back at the past that you have left far behind. We park ourselves on a not-so-risky turn, remove the cobwebs, bushes and low-hanging branches to reach for the edge from where we can look clearly unto the valley we have left far behind. And lo!! Khopoli unfolds itself in a mesmerizing beauty. The blinking of the dim dhaba bulbs within the haze of the chimney smoke, the inherent symmetry of the houses on the slopes, the gullies gleaming with the road lamps, weave themselves into a compelling kaleidoscope of poetic beauty, so enthralling, we feel like having a longer break. Over the Kurkures and Haldiram’s we discuss mountains, sojourns, ambitions, Pirsig, Hesse, Couelho and come to a deeper sense of solace with our souls, which I oh-so missed in Hyderabad in my pub-outings. The serenity was spiritual. As we set off again, a solitary light beckons us on the precarious curves. The headlamp of Panda’s Unicorn. Rest later.
Baloney, Hypoglyceamia and Coke!!
There are trips, there are expeditions and then there are adventures. The bike ride to Lonavala and beyond I guess will fall into the category of an expedition at least if not more. (CI still working). Hang on, I would rather say the pillion-ride, ‘coz panda just would not allow me ride his objet de passion more than 15 minutes at a stretch.
About the CI stuff that panda’s roomie guessed so fast, I would say only a person with a higher CI can judge another person’s CI so quick. And when a person with higher CI makes a statement, I usually don’t heed them. (May be that’s why many people say I am not such a good listener). Let’s not ramble on ‘coz the trip in itself is gonna ramble a lot. (With fun-loaded pit-stops of course)
After a tiring journey of 14 hours, I reach at Panda’s 13th floor Sea-facing apartment, where his roommates and his dad welcome me as the telephone guy(now you know). Any ways after dispelling the myth or confusion or whatever, I take a shower and wait endlessly until our handsome hunk arrives. We fuel and lubricate the Unicorn for the impending long ride and vroom off. In the initial enthusiasm, Panda falters, be it long legged lasses on the street or big-bottomed beauties. So I request him, let me take over the handle. And what a nice ride we have, with no distractions on the old Mumbai-pune highway with the repertoire of its idyllic glory spanning beyond the horizon. The ginger sky with the setting sun zooms off in the rear-view just like a Nat-Geo postcard. The dusky chill of the wind fills my heart with the warm shuddering of a hopeless romantic adolescent and as a consequence I twist the accelerator further. The approaching hilly landscape passes us by at 90kmph and the sudden drizzle compensates for the lack of music that panda was cribbing through out. You should hear the tune a 90(-1.5i-j) velocity vector of rain-drop makes on a helmet, if you think I am talking gibberish. The sudden sensation of rain-drops makes us realize, we are thirsty like hell.
We stop at the Khopoli food-joint where people look-at us with awe. I don’t know if it was my melanin-smeared face, panda’s bandana or the huge back pack. (CI still working) And then the legendary COKE incident. Inside the joint we have a candle-lit snacks break(no electricity), talk all sorta gibberish like how amazing it is that people so near to the bustling Bombay can be such big yokels and then garnish them with neo-intellectual nonsense like innocence is source of all beauty and other assorted baloney. We know we are on for a good trip and set-off for the second-leg of it. Will update that tomorrow. Got to look for a rented house and its Friday.
About the CI stuff that panda’s roomie guessed so fast, I would say only a person with a higher CI can judge another person’s CI so quick. And when a person with higher CI makes a statement, I usually don’t heed them. (May be that’s why many people say I am not such a good listener). Let’s not ramble on ‘coz the trip in itself is gonna ramble a lot. (With fun-loaded pit-stops of course)
After a tiring journey of 14 hours, I reach at Panda’s 13th floor Sea-facing apartment, where his roommates and his dad welcome me as the telephone guy(now you know). Any ways after dispelling the myth or confusion or whatever, I take a shower and wait endlessly until our handsome hunk arrives. We fuel and lubricate the Unicorn for the impending long ride and vroom off. In the initial enthusiasm, Panda falters, be it long legged lasses on the street or big-bottomed beauties. So I request him, let me take over the handle. And what a nice ride we have, with no distractions on the old Mumbai-pune highway with the repertoire of its idyllic glory spanning beyond the horizon. The ginger sky with the setting sun zooms off in the rear-view just like a Nat-Geo postcard. The dusky chill of the wind fills my heart with the warm shuddering of a hopeless romantic adolescent and as a consequence I twist the accelerator further. The approaching hilly landscape passes us by at 90kmph and the sudden drizzle compensates for the lack of music that panda was cribbing through out. You should hear the tune a 90(-1.5i-j) velocity vector of rain-drop makes on a helmet, if you think I am talking gibberish. The sudden sensation of rain-drops makes us realize, we are thirsty like hell.
We stop at the Khopoli food-joint where people look-at us with awe. I don’t know if it was my melanin-smeared face, panda’s bandana or the huge back pack. (CI still working) And then the legendary COKE incident. Inside the joint we have a candle-lit snacks break(no electricity), talk all sorta gibberish like how amazing it is that people so near to the bustling Bombay can be such big yokels and then garnish them with neo-intellectual nonsense like innocence is source of all beauty and other assorted baloney. We know we are on for a good trip and set-off for the second-leg of it. Will update that tomorrow. Got to look for a rented house and its Friday.
Lonavala
TKD came to mumbai and my roommate got to know he has a high confusion index. It's unbelievable how the guy carries his confusion index so high. Anyone passing by looks and knows. Neways, I had to go to office to login and logout. These sadists at my office think office is the funniest place to be in even on a saturday. So i come a bit late after waiting for TK, who by the way reached about 4 hours late in mumbai, i think some of his CI brushed on to the bus driver who tok them on some other route. Then I go back early. The local trains seemed to be well behaved, considering there was a female(mustacheoed) in the first class too.
So me and TKD brush up on our societal things a bit and then start on our journey at around 5 in the evening after tanking up "The Big Red". Oh well you know what the Big blue is --> IBM. You know what the Big Yellow is?? hmmm guess guess.... Kodak.... The Big Red is my beautiful bike. Its big and its Red. Lovable isn't it. I am sure girls would like it too.
As soon as we were on the road I was about to hit this girl from behind. Actually she was wearing a skirt and my gaze was fixed on her bottoms so forgot to apply the brakes. So finally after asking for directions from a few people we were on our way.
-"Bhaiya 2 coke de do".
-"Sir coke nahin hai, coca cola chalega?"
This happened when we stopped for a drink near Khopola which is like the base of the mountainous route that lay ahead. This restaurant "Shree Krishna" served good vada pao which made TKD an instant fan.
So me and TKD brush up on our societal things a bit and then start on our journey at around 5 in the evening after tanking up "The Big Red". Oh well you know what the Big blue is --> IBM. You know what the Big Yellow is?? hmmm guess guess.... Kodak.... The Big Red is my beautiful bike. Its big and its Red. Lovable isn't it. I am sure girls would like it too.
As soon as we were on the road I was about to hit this girl from behind. Actually she was wearing a skirt and my gaze was fixed on her bottoms so forgot to apply the brakes. So finally after asking for directions from a few people we were on our way.
-"Bhaiya 2 coke de do".
-"Sir coke nahin hai, coca cola chalega?"
This happened when we stopped for a drink near Khopola which is like the base of the mountainous route that lay ahead. This restaurant "Shree Krishna" served good vada pao which made TKD an instant fan.
Friday, April 01, 2005
Bujho paheli …. 2
And here's another ..
There is a garden with 4 gates, and inside the garden is a lemon tree. Chakru wants 2 lemons for himself from that tree, but at each gate there is a guard, who would want his customary “bakshish” ! Chakru can pick as many lemons he wants, but at each gate he would have to surrender half the lemons he is carrying to the guard at that point. All guards are of a generous nature, though, and each guard promises Chakru that out of the “half” that they receive, they would give back one lemon for his pains ..
So, whats the number of lemons that Chakru would need to pick in order to be left with 2 lemons at the end of it all ?!
Now here is a bit of an extension from my side: what if, there are n gates, each with a guard, and Chakru wants X lemons at the end of this all ? for what values of X would there be an integer solution ?!
There is a garden with 4 gates, and inside the garden is a lemon tree. Chakru wants 2 lemons for himself from that tree, but at each gate there is a guard, who would want his customary “bakshish” ! Chakru can pick as many lemons he wants, but at each gate he would have to surrender half the lemons he is carrying to the guard at that point. All guards are of a generous nature, though, and each guard promises Chakru that out of the “half” that they receive, they would give back one lemon for his pains ..
So, whats the number of lemons that Chakru would need to pick in order to be left with 2 lemons at the end of it all ?!
Now here is a bit of an extension from my side: what if, there are n gates, each with a guard, and Chakru wants X lemons at the end of this all ? for what values of X would there be an integer solution ?!
Bujho Paheli….1
Along with the wisecracks, there were riddles, too… and each had an engaging tale with a juicy little arithmetic core at the heart of it… Here’s one about the eternal Sardar pair of Santa and Banta .....
In the days not-so-long-ago, when electricity was unheard of except in the cities, and there was, on the average, one shop to five villages, Santa and Banta decided to replenish their stock of kerosene. Now, kerosene available at the government fair price shops, is rationed at 8 litres per family. So Santa carried his big canister of 8 liters, and Banta brought out his two smaller cans, one of 5 liters and one of 3 liters, and both set out on a walk to the next village, 5 miles away.
It was at the fair price shop that they learnt of the oil crisis being faced by the govt; and that consequently each would get only half his scheduled ration. A quick calculation showed that this brought the total amount of kerosene available to both of them to eight litres, which would fit snugly into Santa’s gherkin. So they topped up the big can, and promptly used the remaining cash to top themselves up at the nearest toddy shop.
The liquor was good, and by the time they left the shop on the trek back home, the whole world outside looked good too. Except for the fact that Santa’s moustache was an overgrown piece of shrubbage, the world was perfect to the t. Consequently, it came as a bit of surprise to Banta that when he tried to remove this last bit of imperfection by pulling out the weedy growth from Santa’s face, he was faced with stiff resistance from Santa himself! One word led to another, till finally each came to the independent decision that he could no longer continue walking on the same path that was infested with the most degraded species of humanity. Having decided to part their ways, the only problem remained was to divvy up the kerosene equally. With only two empty cans of five and three liters; and neither being able to think too clearly at the moment, the Sardars are in a bit of a spot. Can you help them out?
In the days not-so-long-ago, when electricity was unheard of except in the cities, and there was, on the average, one shop to five villages, Santa and Banta decided to replenish their stock of kerosene. Now, kerosene available at the government fair price shops, is rationed at 8 litres per family. So Santa carried his big canister of 8 liters, and Banta brought out his two smaller cans, one of 5 liters and one of 3 liters, and both set out on a walk to the next village, 5 miles away.
It was at the fair price shop that they learnt of the oil crisis being faced by the govt; and that consequently each would get only half his scheduled ration. A quick calculation showed that this brought the total amount of kerosene available to both of them to eight litres, which would fit snugly into Santa’s gherkin. So they topped up the big can, and promptly used the remaining cash to top themselves up at the nearest toddy shop.
The liquor was good, and by the time they left the shop on the trek back home, the whole world outside looked good too. Except for the fact that Santa’s moustache was an overgrown piece of shrubbage, the world was perfect to the t. Consequently, it came as a bit of surprise to Banta that when he tried to remove this last bit of imperfection by pulling out the weedy growth from Santa’s face, he was faced with stiff resistance from Santa himself! One word led to another, till finally each came to the independent decision that he could no longer continue walking on the same path that was infested with the most degraded species of humanity. Having decided to part their ways, the only problem remained was to divvy up the kerosene equally. With only two empty cans of five and three liters; and neither being able to think too clearly at the moment, the Sardars are in a bit of a spot. Can you help them out?
Tales of the taxi driver ….puzzles, jokes and more ..
Drivers as a breed are incorrigible raconteurs, with authentic, hearty accents, collected from the days of long off-duty periods of days at a time, when all drivers sit spinning yarns around endless cups of tea and rounds of beedi. Here are some pearls of wisdom from one who has been my companion for many a ride:
Chutkule ….
The editor of a daily storms “The government is the biggest thief of them all” !
Next day, the police lands at his doorstep to arrest him.
“Of what crime, pray, am I accused of ?!” enquires the scribe.
“Thou accused the Indian Government of theft!” Quoths the inspector.
“But that is not true, for I wrote ‘government’ only .. nowhere have I mentioned which government.. it might have been the American or the Pakistani government that I was referring to !"
“Do you take me for a fool, sir?! Do I not know which government is the thief ?!!?”
Chutkule ….
The editor of a daily storms “The government is the biggest thief of them all” !
Next day, the police lands at his doorstep to arrest him.
“Of what crime, pray, am I accused of ?!” enquires the scribe.
“Thou accused the Indian Government of theft!” Quoths the inspector.
“But that is not true, for I wrote ‘government’ only .. nowhere have I mentioned which government.. it might have been the American or the Pakistani government that I was referring to !"
“Do you take me for a fool, sir?! Do I not know which government is the thief ?!!?”
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