Just like any of my brother and sister of the republic of India, I read and heard a lot about Anna and this steaming hot topic boiled my brain to extract my own flavor of thoughts, which I would like to call “chaos” as of now for you, since this is my attempt to solve the billion dollar question, “should I join the Anna Brigade?” Though I am sure every bystander in the crowded bus stand or public square must have thought about it, I just took a step forward by messing up my brain further into the issue and suddenly the news papers and TV filled me so much in, relevant or irrelevant, that I got confused and thus the word defining that moment that first came to my mind was “chaos”. “Why chaos? It’s going to solve everything!” was the first reaction when I tried to assess my skepticism by talking to my friends, but what I couldn’t understand was how? And why and what piece of cake is everyone expecting out of it? What does Infosys get out of Anna? Won’t the opposition also be questioned about their history of corruption? Why are celebrities trying to hog the lime light in such an issue which doesn’t concern their earnings? Why is Swiss Bank trying to lose its premium customers? Why is the National governing party scared of the man without a gun, while they are the ones who have been elected by majority in this billion plus populated country, knowing their predecessors were not far behind in the league of extraordinary conman? What are the rucksacks carrying students jumping into this bandwagon, rather than their school buses?

An interesting reason one of the man, I met during the Anna National Holiday was, “Someday I could proudly convey to my grand kids that I too stood by Anna against corruption”.  Though it did sound good to me when I first heard it, but soon I started pondering that how far a proud issue, like his, is justified for bringing the productivity of a nation to halt? “Yes, I am against corruption”. Never had I seen my nation so united, but at the same time, it was one of the most chaotic times that shall go down in our history. Yet again the use of the word “chaotic”, because I couldn’t distinguish among the genuine supporters and the class bunkers. Another concern that rose in my conscience was whether my countrymen were being led in the correct direction or not, since many among those whom I spoke to seemed to have interpreted this very movement in their own context, without even bothering to read the bill being proposed by Anna! I do like Anna for standing for his belief in his step for uprooting corruption, but at the same time many of his supporters disgusted me for not even thinking whether what they are shouting the slogans for is right or not!

As I tried to understand this confused lot, I understood a divide in our society and a segment in particular to which many of these people belong. The rich, be it entrepreneurs, politicians or celebrities, get noticed. They are strong and well connected, but still play on a diplomatic stance; they never jeopardize their status by fighting face to face for any social cause. While the poor, who have lost their stand somewhere in their desperate act of making the ends meet. Neither are they noticed, neither are they up for a fight, all they do is to try and make it to like and struggle for existence for yet another day. They have accepted and given it up to the attempt to rectify things or make it right. In between these accepted strong and the satisfied weak, is the ever restless middle class man. For long we have the word “middle” has been used as a synonym to mediocre. Why? Well, that’s what a middle class man has been. He lives to fight an everyday battle to cut through the clutches of a mediocrity and join the elite club, but at the same time plays it safe for the fear of losing it to the money crisis which may force him down to poverty. He aspires, but can’t act since he is afraid. He awaits a representative, a leader, to come and breaks the shackles of his misery and lead him to the “as imagined” good life. He hustles every moment, while the strong survives and the weak is suppressed, because of fear and inability to stand apart. These are the people who, given a dream, would rise up for anything, unfortunately, many without understanding how, because their life is a chaos and thus, is the birth of the word “chaotic man”.

Well, as we know, chaos cannot be attributed to a single factor or fact, but if we do connect it, it solves the chaos! We, the middle class are so busy juggling the act to continue our survival that we barely stop to think about solving the chaos which has entangled us for generations. When Anna came and brought us out of our homes, we realized how we too can make a difference. Now here comes the point of bridging the gap in the society. We have so far associated ourselves with mediocrity and have been identified as a confused lot of the major chunk of our billion plus population, but we have never reached out to solve anything. But just give it a thought; we are the ones in between the two extreme ends of our society. We have been flipping the coin ever since and have seen both sides of it on numerous occasions.

Since my Grand ma’s bed time stories, to today’s headlines, I have found examples of how there has been a strong, a weak and a “middle” man, the “chaotic” man. Though never referred by the same word, but there has always been an intermediary, someone who shares the characteristics of both.  For example, during Paleolithic ages, the physical strength was the wealth, the strong was important, the weak were eliminated, but there were the ones in between, who were involved in other works, but were not considered important, but at some point of history came someone with brains, and history started changing. India’s struggle for freedom too, there were the mighty British, the defeated Sultanate and the commoners, among whom rose the likes of Gandhi and Bose who, who stood up for the cause and pummel the Empire till they were back on their ships to the Great Britain. But how long will the middle man wait for someone among themselves to stand and inspire? Why can’t every “chaotic man” stand for himself? Why does the Middle man still wait, rather than acting? And as I find my answers in the history, I bring some order to the understanding of “chaotic man”, as I see him repeating the same “wait and watch” protocol. As I answer these questions, my quest for solving the chaos comes to a full circle, as I wait for another Gandhi or Anna to come and wake me up.

(inputs from Yogi)

Well, first let me take you to Indira Nagar, 100ft road, destination: Barbecue Nation. The restaurant was a 4 floor filled with mouthwatering delicacies. A barbecue set on your very own table, your options and your wish over how to treat your taste buds! This restaurant, i must say before i go ahead, is worth the money only and only if you don’t consider eating meat a sin or are not a fan of PETA supporting Pamela Anderson, else i must tell you, you are at the wrong place buddy! Anyways, confirming that you enjoy the idea of a sumptuous non vegetarian meal, let me move ahead. Well, this is the only restaurant I have seen so far which respects a hogger. The flag on the table which says “kindly turn down to discontinue starters” takes out the devil in u and even the most tidy eater couldn’t resist himself from getting his hands down and dirty for the business since it invokes a challenge which inspires you to keep it going and interestingly, the staff is also supportive in your endeavor to win the contest…… man versus food at its best!The never ending starters and mouth watering delicacies kept me and my friend Akshat, a fellow food lover, going on till our stomach gave up. But hey, it ain’t over yet….. desserts are still to be enjoyed! As we walked towards the dessert counter with great difficulty we realized something has to be done to create that extra bit of space in our stomach, and that is when the oldest trick in the book worked….. loosen up your belt! And hence began our final course of meal, before the bill was presented on our table and let me confess, the bill at that moment didn’t hurt us in the least bit, as we knew, every penny we spend is worth it.

Today the term modern is associated with the clothes we wear, the food we eat, the way we speak and so on. But, somewhere it has lost its association with thinking and philosophies. We have learned the way to express them, but have forgotten how to understand and evolve them.

I believe that being modern is not about wearing inadequate clothes or eating food in restaurant that doesn’t belong to our region and bowel system, or speaking foreign languages in weird accent. Modernity lies in the progressive thinking we hold and believe in. Modernity lies in understanding our history to shape our future. Our forefathers fought for freedom, the freedom to express ourselves, explore ourselves, develop ourselves and think ourselves to decide our destiny. But somewhere their sacrifice has gone in vein as the freedom they fetched us; we used it to be the slaves of the ideologies of our previous rulers.

We follow the west, but we often forget we belong to east. Our climate is different, our conditions are different, our language is different and our ideas are different. Then why should we follow them? I don’t believe in criticizing the west for imposing themselves upon us, all I wish is to urge the people to think before following.  Our forefathers have evolved the thoughts and culture so well that they still hold apt and strong. Our food, houses, communities, clothes and lifestyle have not just been imitated; they have been evolved in such a way that they suit our requirements in the conditions we live in.

My idea of writing the words above is not to demean the west or stop ourselves from mingling with the world; but to think before following and evolving things that would benefit our future generations. It is to ignite the spark in ourselves to think, to be progressive thinkers. Let us be modern enough to define our future.

All the pain I had from the last night’s bumpy ride from Trichy to Rameshwaram went away once the strong breeze of fresh air brushed my face. After a strenuous effort, I open my eyes to see the heaven on earth. One of the most picturesque views I had ever seen in my entire life. Blue Ocean, rocky beach on one side and sandy on the other, green trees behind the beach, huts arranged along them in the most perfect manner possible and in front, the engineering marvel of the pre-independence era, the Pamban Railway bridge. I am standing on the recently built vehicle traffic bridge along the Pamban Railway Bridge, which is also called Pamban Bridge. It bridges the Rameshwaram Island with the mainland of India, which is divided by Palk Strait.

The view of fishermen fishing, their boats dancing to the tune of the waves and prize catch shining like bronze medal in sun is something that capture my eyes for so long that I forget what made me come here. Suddenly, I hear a train’s whistle rising between the chorus of waves and then I turn my head to the Pamban railway bridge. An engineering masterpiece sculpted in steel, so amazing that it took my breath away as my eyes witnessed a train actually rolling over it.

Surprisingly this 93 years old railway bridge, constructed in 1914, is made of steel in world’s second most corrosive environment. Bridging a gap of 2.3 km., this bridge stood as the longest bridge in India till Bandra Worli Sealink recently surpassed it. The bridge is a cantilever bridge which accommodates a single broad gauge track. Not surprised? Well, the interesting thing is that still it stands a functional double leaf bascule bridge which facilitates the passing of ships under it by opening up in the centre from two sides, a feat that still remain a challenge to the world’s greatest bridge builders.

As I stand here admiring the shining steel wonder against the blue water, with a slice of juicy pineapple in my hand, a group of travelers get off their bus. Within no time I am surrounded by another bunch of awestruck admirers covering their mouth with their fingers as if trying to avoid a fish to pop into their open mouth. Well, I can’t blame them; it is something which will leave anyone spell bound. After a 45 minute conversation among my friends which only comprised of “whoooo….”, “amazing”, “breathtaking”, “superb” and few other words that came out of excitement but didn’t mean anything; I start walking back to the bus stand on the Rameshwaram side of the bridge. Though I walk back to keep up with my schedule, I just can’t resist looking back at Pamban for one more time.

Struggling through the old city area of Hyderabad, you reach a point where you feel the whole of Hyderabad coming onto you altogether, the chit chat of local people in Hyderabadi Hindi coupled with the shrieking hawkers with a hint of whispers by awestruck visitors create the perfect background score for this unique experience. And just when you start thinking that you have seen it all, you see the monumental Charminar standing in front of you. Every step you take towards it, it imbibes you all the more into its charm and when you reach this whole new world, the speakers start roaring allah ho akhbar…. and suddenly the entire place turns solemn and all you see is the Charminar and the Mecca Masjid.

As you move ahead, a distinct fragrance attracts you to one of the tea joints next to Charminar. Well, sipping Irani tea next to Charminar may not be a dream to any ordinary person, but once you have done it, your senses will keep reminding you to do it again and again. The haunting aroma of the badi patti blended with the amazing flavor of chotti patti will seduce your taste buds in such a way that calling back miyan for another cup becomes formidable. Just as you keep piling empty tea cups on your table and crush the cigarette butt on the floor, oh yes you can smoke here without eyebrows being raised at you, you see the antique clock embedded on the Charminar and as you stare at it, you eventually reach a different era. Sitting with your close friends, as the tea keeps flowing, the conversations get endless and blame it on the Irani Chai, you eventually pour your heart out. Your brain soothes, your body relaxes, your problems find solutions and suddenly you forget all the pain you have taken to reach this place, as you cherish every sip of the amazing tea.

But here, it’s not just the tea or the Charminar; it’s the ambience, the surrounding, the shining pearls, the fragrance of unique perfumes, the dimly lit endless arcade corridors of the bazaar which blend among themselves to give you this unforgettable experience. Though all the flashy cafés claim that a lot can happen over a cup of coffee, the Irani Chai at Charminar does deliver.

The Sabha is a ten day event, set in front of Shri Thiyagarajar Samadhi on the bank of river Cauvery in a small town called Thiruvaiyaru. This Carnatic Music festival attracts Carnatic singers, musicians and audience, belonging to all age groups, from all around the globe, especially Tamil Nadu.

As I start my journey, I don’t know what is attracting me to that place…… may be it is the craving for a new experience or something to write about or may be because my friends were making fun of the fact that I am going to attend a Carnatic music festival!  As of now, I am enjoying a comfortable bus journey in cool cloudy weather and the recently constructed Trichy Tanjore Highway. As we take a break at Tanjore to change bus, a crisp dosa and strong filter coffee welcomes us. Now with our enthusiasm fuelled with food, we proceed towards Ariyalur, on the way to which lies the town, Thiruvaiyaru.

As we walk towards the venue from the Thiruvaiyaru bus stand, loudspeakers playing the compositions being played at the concert intimate us that we are going on the right way. Within no time we reach the Thiyagaraja Samadhi. The mandapam is covered with a canvas canopy, decorated with colorful frills on the inside. At one end of it is the Thiyagaraja Samadhi and on the other end is a stage, divided in two parts with a group of singers and musicians on each of them, playing alternately.

First I visit the Samadhi to pray and then settle myself in the Shri Thiyaga Brahma Mahotsava Sabha. My friend explains to me that a Carnatic Music concert is referred to as Sabha. This Sabha, in particular, is dedicated to the ‘kritis’ by Shri Thiyagarajar and most of them are in Telugu! As a clueless visitor belonging to Gujarat, sitting in Carnatic music Sabha in Tamil Nadu, listening to Telugu compositions…… I looked around to realize one interesting thing about this sabha. This is one event which attracts crowd from far and near, striking the common chord among them…… Music! The crowd here was not Shaivite or Vaishnavite, but just music lovers. Amazing to see how Music crossed the barriers of Caste & Creed, Cults & Sects, Male & Female, Language & Dialects, to bring one and all together. Surprised with what I just realized, I look back at the stage with a whole new perspective to appreciate this very Music. To be truthful, I am now enjoying it. Contrary to the notion I had about Carnatic music being calm and solemn, it’s vibrant!  The orchestra comprises of Mrudangam, Violin, Ghatam (a pot) and Kunnakoon (a harmonica-like instrument, made of iron). But, the most impressive part is the voice of the singers. A well controlled voice with pitch modulating with every word in a range I had never heard before. Just as the singers close their eyes and tap their palm on thighs, music rises and a melodious voice sets the ambience, which cannot be described in words. The only words which could describe my state right now are ‘spell bound’!

Since its time for us to go back, we take a walk along the bank of Cauvery in shallow water. Though water wiped off the sand from my feet, I know nothing can wipe the memories of Thiruvaiyaru from my mind. For me, something so uniquely amazing had never been seen or heard before.

Fountain pen, especially, since long have been a passion to many a people and an identity to most of the Artists and Architects. Every drop of ink that flows through the shiny metal nib, expresses your thoughts and feelings on the paper. Every curve of script you write and every stroke of sketch you make is a conscious effort which your enthusiasm plans for you even before you remove the cap. Eventually, with every passing attempt, you get addicted to materialize your expressions on a paper and this is when you realize what a mere fountain pen can do to you!

Well, this very addiction bought me a bus ticket to Chennai along with a fellow connoisseur and a generous man who provided me with food, shelter and direction in the city. And thus began my “PEN HUNT”! Being a student of Architecture with a knack for fancy fountain pen, I often find myself admiring collections of exquisite fountain pens over the internet and this is where I found the address to my dream fountain pen collection, which read……… Oh God! I forgot the address ….. and so did my fellow pen raider! And yes, at this moment we were at Broadway Bus stand! All we knew was that it was in Parry’s area near Broadway and all we could make out from the vague recollection of its photograph on the internet was that it was taken from distance, thus we came to the conclusion that the shop was not in some alley. With this information, we began our final phase of pen hunt.

As we walked out of the Broadway bus stand, with peanuts in our hand and fountain pen in our mind, we were greeted by a huge crowd moving all around in a specific direction like ants!  But when we tried to join them, we were pushed out, but this didn’t discourage from our hunt. Just as I got an opportunity to raise my head, I read a shop address which said NSC Bose Road. Suddenly there was a click of flashback, as we recalled that Internet also pointed out NSC Bose as a part of the shop address. After a sigh of relief, came the very obvious question…… should we proceed on left or right hand side? So we all tossed a coin inside our head and a unanimous decision was taken…….Left!

The next two and a half hour was a long walk under bright sun in a crowded street and taking a sneak peek into the stationary stores along the road. For those Chennaites who are not aware, NSC Bose Road is a mine of stationary in Chennai. From pocket diaries to executive folders…. from use & throw pen to pen with warranty…. all could be found here at Parry’s. Anyways, browsing through the shops with eyes wide open, we came across a shop with a huge replica of a fountain pen hanging inside it. We bent backwards to read the board which said “PARRY PEN CORNER”. Assuming that it was the shop we were looking for, I exchanged a victory smile with my partner and a smirk with our rest of the companions who didn’t believe in us, and barged into the shop shocking the other customers. Looking at our tired but enthusiastic faces, the shopkeeper opened a few cases filled with GAMA pens and welcomed us. In a fraction of a second the pen caps started popping like soda, as we started inspecting the pens with a curious face. Though I and my fellow pen enthusiast are final year students, for those 20 minutes, we turned into kindergarten kids standing in a candy shop, delighting ourselves and annoying our rest of the tired company. Soon (though our company disagrees with this adverb) we picked the pens of our interest and started discussing them like some wine taster discussing their wine. The only things missing were monocles and money. Anyways, scratching our wallets yielded some money and pens were packed in envelopes. Though we stood victorious in our pursuit of pens, we did realize that another mission was on its way once we step out of the shop, “THE ATM HUNT AT PARRY’S”. Luckily our desperate eyes found an ATM across the road, so we took another sigh of relief and ordered for lime soda from one of the many petty shops along the road, knowing that companions had money to pay for it. Once the bubbles of sparkling water burst their energy into us, I and my friend took a stroll across the road to the ATM, just to read a board hanging over its knob saying “ATM not working”. All the recently gain energy was lost…. the stroll turned into a tedious effort of dragging our feet as we started crossing the road back to our rest of the company.

Just as we were about to reach the signal in the center of the road, my eyes caught a glance of a huge board on the top of a shop with “GEM & CO.” embossed on it. This was it! This was the very shop we were looking for! The shop on the internet! Within a blink of an eye, we found ourselves running towards it like a lady who just spotted a 50% off poster on the window of a boutique. Oh God! the excitement was back again as I threw a half burnt cigarette to enter the shop.

This shop was bigger than the previous one, had a better collection of pen and before anyone could stop me, it was Rachit in Wonderland all over again. The shelves start sliding, the cases start opening, pen caps start popping and the next thing I know is that I am having the same old animated conversation and yet again sans the monocles and money. Pens were amazing, ranging from writing to sketching, antique to executive and from affordable to definitely not affordable. Luckily I found some emergency money in my traveling wallet and crossing the fingers praying that nothing goes wrong during our trip, I let my desire for pen take control over me. I bought myself a Rotring Calligraphy Pen and a Gama pen with a Sheaffer nib for fine writing, an addition to the collection of my most prized possession.

The most notable thing about these shops I visited, which distinguishes them from the mall and corner stationary store, is the service they provide. The person across the counter knows what he is selling and respects your price constraint. He would suggest you pen, let you check it and would also offer you tips for usage & maintenance of fountain pens, before he packs them in an envelope and write you a bill with a smile.

Anyways, once I paid the prize for my most prized possession, I obliged him with a smile, turned back with my head held high and walked out. I stood valiant in my PEN HUNT AT PARRY’S.