An elegy to Abhiram

This is perhaps not quite a poem, but I surely mean to remember Abhiram Kotha fondly.

It was in early August 2010, that Karthik sent me a snap of his dilapidated car over Whatsapp. The message he sent with it said, ‘this is gonna cost me a few tens of thousands.’ His brother, Abhiram Kotha had met with an accident in the heart of Hyderabad city – late at night. I don’t quite remember if he was driving it or drunk. But it gave me the shivers. Karthik went on to say, ‘if he doesn’t mend his ways, he’s gonna meet with a fate others will be sorry for.’

Late last night, a common friend gave me some news I was too shocked to react to for a while. Abhiram Kotha passed away yesterday, Rishabh mentioned in the passing.

The first thoughts that came to my mind, uncannily, were not that Abhiram may have suddenly fallen ill, but the possibility of a massive accident.

Accident it was indeed. 

Abhiram Kotha was neither violent, nor impulsive. He had aggressively attempted to save my own life once – not through some superficial act of bravado or machismo, but with words, thought and reason. Words were Abhiram’s greatest strength. His articulateness often made me sit back and think. He was pragmatic, thoughtful, charming beyond imagination.

I believe the last couple of years had also seen him successfully progressing in his brand consultancy business. His curiosity, passion and energy could put an infant to shame. I remember just how rich he made our concert outing by simply giving me tiny insights into a movement or style. I believe he was a fabulous violinist himself. Abhiram Kotha sure was a powerhouse.

I believe it is strong personalities such as Abhi that are most missed by loved ones. His family has been even more unfortunate in the last few years. Losing a child however, is unparalleled.

Precious he was. Remembered, he will be.

Pondy Hopping III

On Day 2 in Pondy, I biked through the busy streets of Grand Bazaar early in the morning. The closed Goubert Market in its centre is a maze full of several flavours and colours and textures and noises. The place surely lives up to the name and the ride surprised me with sites I had intended to uncover during the trip. Asking around didn't help on the first day, biking around definitely did! I rode by what I believe is the oldest and prettiest church in Pondicherry. While I could never go back to see it from inside, but perhaps that I'll leave for next time!

The first smells to hit me at the Grand Bazaar in Pondy were the masalas. Mint, coriander, lemons, garlic, ginger... Strong, yet not sneeze-inducing. Gunny bags full of veggies, some I didn't recognise, were being hauled down from the trucks. And since the market hadn't settled yet, there was none of the buying crowd there. Just vendors getting ready for the day.

Going to the Amrakunj or Khanderao or Mangal Bazaar in Baroda was a pain, unlike at the Grand Bazaar. Not only because it was dirty and usually the cows from the nearby village treated it like their go-to hangout, but also perhaps because I did not appreciate the bustle and aromas of a fresh produce gathering. The colours, the flavours, the noises and the sense that vendors and visitors made out of the chaos. As if the neighbourhood market wasn't bad enough, there is a big wholesale market and the other old city retail market. That place was sheer cacophony. Impossible to get in, and beyond comprehension to navigate!

It was the small but extremely well-organised veggies aisle at King's Cirle in Bombay that made me sort of in love with the concept of going to buy fruits and veggies myself. It took little goading, and the friends I made was an unparalleled perk. Of course, the metro also gets some of the best produce in the country, so that was an added attraction. But when I first stepped into Crawford Market, it was as if my perception of a foods market did a complete turnaround, and for good. Everything - I mean EVERYTHING one could ever conceive edible is available there - red meat, poultry, sea food, greens, spices, chocolate of various intensities of darkness, pickles and preserves, jams and jellies, preservatives and food grade chemicals - it was any chef's haven - almost like a mini replica of the Grand Bazaar!

In Hyderabad, I discovered supermarket grocery shopping like the Jubilee Hills and Banjara Hills residents do it. Among the first SPAR stores in the country, this one at Begumpet was a joy to shop at. Not only was it clean and well laid out, there were also none of the intrusive and superfluous staff that gets in your way arranging stuff at peak shopping times and helps in no way when you ask (no wonder people in India can only barely tolerate Big Bazaar/ Food Bazaar and most of the rest are closing down). It was such a truly holistic shopping experience - also the first time I bought alcohol at the grocers. Hypercity there was next in line - far bigger and spacious, though I thought they'd nailed the marketing ethos of making people want to buy more than they needed rather than ticking off their weekly/monthly grocery list.

Pune was a gala surprise at Aundh's fresh produce market, and winters are just the time to enjoy it. The colours and aromas of fresh raw fruit and veggies and herbs and spices is beyond anything that relaxes at the end of a long day at work. To carry as much as you can handle in a trip is like a bull in a china shop. You want it all. You nail it all. And it;s a nice straight walk up one side of the road, so there are no distractions and the vendors are all a friendly, generous lot. Going to the now closer-home Food Bazaar is a slightly detached experience. There are none of the smiles, the banter, the letting go of a buck or two, and the constant feeling that you're being cheated. So I continue to buy at least the veggies and the odd south Indian rice batter from right outside - funnily I never spotted this batter at the Grand Bazaar in Pondy - perhaps because it's too much of a staple.

When I think back about the Goubert Market at Grand Bazaar, the idea to get up and get out early that morning was the best decision ever! Not only was the market fresh, but it was also the only time of day in Pondicherry when the heat wasn't singing and bicycling was sheer delight. I still remember my last long ride across Anand's Agricultural University campus with Sajani. In juxtaposition, while the ride across the campus was all about exploring space Grand Bazaar was about the convenience of occupying minimum space on the road and getting the most in. I could never thank Rao enough about goading me onto one. I had little confidence in my foot-eye coordination - but I discovered that day that it is indeed true - you never forget swimming and you never forget how to bicycle!

The advantage one has with the traffic when one is on a bicycle is brilliant - you don't have to wait for the red lights to turn green, you can ride in the opposite direction, take U-turns where none are allowed, and so much more! Bicycling is the best way to break rules and be proud about your sins. You discover so much on the way!

Some DIY fun!

I enjoy my share of DIY activities - and creating chapbooks - whether a little picture storybook or a collection of memorable quotes and writings from one's favourite writers. Here are two projects I undertook during 2012, that struck a chord and carried a distinct imprint.

Leveled Chapbook - Birthday gift to the boy

This one was a collection of lines from my own poems for him, his favourite books & songs, and quotes in general that ring with him, about things that he and sometimes I are passionate about.

The material: Basic art paper or handmade paper, coloured felt pens, a ruler, glue & pencil. I also had some stamps & stamped flowers handy 

I stamped the top & bottom of the pages to give an elegant customised touch without cluttering the page.

Voila!

Picture Story Book - Secret Santa gift at Work

This one was a quick fix, and one of those ideas that come to you in the grogginess of morning dumps on the pot. Anonymous gifts were asked for and I had nothing ready for the D-day. And the idea of anonymous gifts was mine in the first place!

I made simple Warli art inspired line drawings fused with elements from the comics of my younger years

Again, the material remained more or less the same. Art paper was replaced with a sheaf of newly acquired handmade paper from Pondicherry's Handmade paper factory & centre pinned to hold together

Thankfully, since I'd already sketched on the pot, it was only a matter of tracing or copying the illustrations onto the book with roughly done margins for frame.

Presto!

These illustrations are going onto my bookcase as slightly larger versions painted on a warm ochre yellow soon!

Then there are times when one just doodles to keep the sketching skills oiled!

A little window fun @ work at my previous office - yes it's a cat peeping into a cummode :P

And some wearable DIY!

I thought this was a fabulous DIY jewellery idea. Spotted this folded & glued newsprint at Kasha ki Asha in Pondicherry.

"Clandestine" - my entry to the GetPublished contest

Clandestine is my first short story, a mellow office romance revolving around Nandini and Manan. Inspired by the true story of two colleagues from my own work place, much of the narrative is fictitious. As the name suggests, it's a coming-of-age tale about how lovebirds at work can succeed if only...

The story defies several myths about such situations - considering we are all increasingly spending more hours at work, struggling to keep our social lives afloat and perhaps squeezing in something more substantial than just flirtatious banter between meetings, presentations, launches, shoots and late nights.

It's an uncluttered third person narrative that highlights unlikely personalities in a high energy advertising agency environment making it - not only in the work space, but also in terms of emotional growth. The starkness of juxtaposition doesn't end there. The lead characters also go against the grain of stereotypes in that being not entirely opposite in nature. However, as in any love story, it is not so much the beginning, middle and end that differ as the sequences that bring about the closeness between the two.

Here's a short excerpt:

Nandini suddenly felt a pang. The bottle of brandy her best friend had left behind had just dregs left now and the cold wasn't helping. 'He can't be that bad,' she thought. 'Would you mind if I joined you for that drink?' she asked. Manan was flummoxed again. He had tried not to threaten Nandini and kept his advances of aid to the minimum. 

Manan and Nandini walked into the only 24-hour bar in town where women could enter without fear or awkwardness. He ordered his usual rum and water and looked towards her. 'Brandy. Neat. Small,' she said and looked at her mobile phone for the time. He sensed her anxiety about waking up in the morning and getting to work on time. 'It's ok,' he tried to help, 'You can take an hour off in the morning if you've left really late.' That smile again. Nandini glanced at him searchingly, as if to decipher if he was telling the truth or mocking her. The thought of him being unsafe company had been pushed out of her cold car window, and stayed back. The smile had grown on her. It comforted her now. She settled onto her bar stool and rested her elbows on the bar table. 

'So how does your first long day at work feel?' It was Nandini's turn to smile. She remembered her earlier thought of work speeding up after work hours. The upward arc brought warmth into Manan's spirits. 'I definitely didn't think it would end with a drink with a colleague,' she caught herself replying. She couldn't believe the first full sentence she strung to this man was flirtatious in nature. This time Manan laughed a hearty laugh. Just then the account director's name flashed on Manan's phone. 

"This is my entry for the HarperCollins–IndiBlogger Get Published contest, which is run with inputs from Yashodhara Lal and HarperCollins India."