Identity Issues

One saturday morning at Bangalore, all my roommates away, either gone home or to bank or to pay electricity bill, boredom at consummate.I locked my doors and set out. Aim: Avenue road. When Aniyettan at 'shabari' bakery asked where I was going, I shook my shoulders and walked back. Got a bus from Panchayat itself, took a day pass. In Bangalore if you pay Rs.25 you will get a pass which permit you to go anywhere inside the city in BMTC( Bangalore Metropolitan Transport Corporation) buses.

From Wilson Garden stop a young man got into and sat next to me. He was carrying a bag from which he pulled out a bundle of pamphlets. Me out of typical Indian curiosity, peeped into them, they read bold kannada letters, no hope, I gave up. Traffic was so hectic, bus was literaly crawling. I just smiled to him to breed some familiarity and to start a conversation. Now he put his papers back, sat relaxed.

" Hi where you going?" - I tried to suppress my discomfort to start a talk with a stranger.
" I'm to Shivaji Nagar", he stopped abruptly "and how abt u?". His voice was soft and clear and was bit slow. He positioned his hair, his fore head traced a premature baldness.

I didn't tell much about me, he didn't ask either. I was eager to know what those numerous cards and pamphlets meant, which I saw a few minutes before. I asked him what he did, he was a social worker.

"Social worker?!", I wanted to know more. "What all you do?"- I tried not to be over enthusiastic.
" We work among sexual minorities", he replied. I didn't understand what he meant. Minority means those who are less in number, There are two sexes male and female, in India men out number women and may be he is an activist for the welfare of women. My logic pomped. He must have noticed my raising eyebrows, he cleared his point. " We work among transgenders".

"transgenders!!??- who are they?", I have never heared that word ever in my life. "Transgenders means hijadas, kothis, crossdressers, gays, lesbians, doubledeckers, homosexuals and other sexual minorities", he started explaining, " who by birth fall into one gender and out of hormonal imbalances and psychic problems desire to be the other. We work among them, their problems, both from public and the police. We have an organisation 'Sangama', and have office near Shivaji Nagar".

I was struck, my curiosity increased. I have seen a program in Asianet few months back featuring gays and lesbians. I was of the opinion that they must be given psychic treatment. In kerala there are no Hijadas (atleast in public), and my knowledge about them are via news papers and my north indian friends. I was bemused.
" Can I just see your work?", I asked hesitantly.

" Why not, If you are ready I will take you to our office now, better they can provide you with the apt and relevant information regarding this." I noticed the spark in his eyes when those words came out of him.
He introduced himself, Narayan, a malayali by roots, born and bought up in Bangalore, now a full time activist of 'Sangama', later, to my shock, I learnt that he too was a gay!

We reached 'Sangama', a well furnished office working on the third floor of an apartment building which hosts other business establishments, very near to Shivaji Nagar bus stand. Lot of people were there, men and women, busily talking each other, serving snacks, watching television. I was lead to a room which served as a library and a lady was sitting there. She offered me a seat, the very first question she asked me was "..who areyou?", I told my where abouts, but she repeated the question in a different tone, I understood what she meant.

" I'm a male, nothing more or nothing less, I just came to know about the people among whom you works", it was convincing enough I suppose she didnt go deep into my identity or personal.

She briefly explained about the activities of 'Sangama', a well off organisation with multiple offices in the city. They do awareness among public about transgenderism and fight for their rights. They try to establish the fact that this kind of state is not a disorder and is just another existance. They work among hijadas, most of whom are sex workers, to prevent the spread of AIDS and other associated diseases. The organisation have international links and monetary help too. She showed me enough medical records and journals archived in their library to prove her points. She asked me to watch a documentary film screening transgenderism. Introduced some people present, all gays or lesbians, I was chilled, unable to speak.

The way they spoke and behaved, I felt embarassed, they were too open in topics we normally wont talk, but they were comfortable enough. Men who desire to be women, who have male partners, who wish to wear female dress, who have done transplantation surgeries to fulfil their fantacies. There were women with masculine appearence and mind, tough and concrete in attitude, who hate the whole male society, who speak passionately about rights and protection, who demand constitution amendment and legislation for homosexual marriages in step with Netherlands and Germany. I saw the jewel and passion in their eyes while substantiating their points.

The lady at the desk, Sreeja, she explained to me how organised they are and how they do field work. How they keep track of their records, train volunteers and collect feedback. She introduced a foreigner who came there, an activist, from Sweden, to invite delegates from India for an LGBT(Lesbians, gays, bisexuals, transgenders) conference to be held in Denmark coming august. I felt the scale of establishment and character such movements have achieved. My pre mindset about transgenders changed, the whole episode was an eye opening one. I wandered what all happen in the society, just infront of our eyes, without our knowledge, and how differently people think and behave, how they mould themselves to be in the society, how alarming the magnitude of radical thinking and proving be in a traditional social spectrum.

I asked her to show how they do social work and where, she accepted this gladly and asked Narayan to help me. I left 'Sangama' then.

The next day Narayan asked me to come near Dayanand Sagar College, Kumaraswamy Layout, Banashankari. I came. After some time he appeared in an auto, I got inside and we started. I asked him where we are going."I'll show you the places where we work", his voice was rigid and I didn't ask any more. I had a sour feeling whenever I thought about the person sitting next to me., I felt uncomfortable. Auto moved away from Banashankari, crossed the ring road, and started moving to the outskirts of the city. It passed past the metal road and entered a muddy path. Lorries parked on both sides, filthy smell from the nearby field pierced the air. Lorry drivers and other workers cleaning their vehicles, gathered together, eating pans, cracking jokes in loud voice. Some automobile workshops were also seen. Tiny tea shops, I felt as if I reached some remote village in Bihar or Jarkhand(I have never been to any of these states, but my idea about them is some what similar.) For a moment I forgot that I'm in Bangalore, in one of the finest cities of South India. The way lead to a small colony, exactly like slum. I never knew that we were going to a brothel.

I don't know whether I can call it a hut, it was little more than that. A small shop next to it, vegetables and grocery. Shop keeper gave a warm smile to Narayan, he might be a familiar face there. There were lot of such huts, all made of azbestos roofing, walls of baked mud, a public pipe was spotted nearby. Narayan knocked the door which was opened abruptly, a man/woman appeared. Narayan introduced him/her me. Her name was Fathima, a sex worker, male by birth, did organ transplantation, now a woman. I felt the softness in touch and sound when she/he offered his hand, "hello", I wished.

He was wearing female dress,and talked like a woman, mannerism very similar to the fairer sex, but he was never a complete woman, his original name was Ravikiran. Narayan and Ravikiran talked for sometime in rapid fire kannada, I didnt understand a single word. A small boy came with tea, he had three cups, for me, Narayan and the auto driver, I declined politely.

Ravikiran told me about his business, they were 6 people, altogether, all hijaras or cross dressers, and been there for the past two years. He introduced to me his girls there. When I say girls, all men, in female attire, far from seduction, nobody with a little sense will look at them, still they were succesful, have demand!! the way our society think and behave and how we are. It was a small house with compartments inside, there were no doors, open cupboards filled with cosmetics and robes, a disgusting smell of some cheap perfume in the room, I felt suffocating.

" You want any one of us?", Ravikiran amazed me with a sudden question. I was like thunder struck, words stammered inside my throat, I was ashamed, embarassed, exhausted, I looked at the driver and Narayan, I felt the whole ground under my feet moving apart and I'm trapped inside, I camly explained to the creature sitting infront of me why I came there, and convinced that I'm not a customer.

I asked him about his history, his back grounds and social life. He replied in beautiful english. The only son of malayalee parents, both retired government servants. They were from Mattanchery, Fort Cochin, now settled in Bangalore. Ravikiran spend the lion share of his life in Bangalore, studied in a hi-fi college there, a post graduate in English literature. Since childhood he had the desire to be the other sex, and fought with his parents on this issue. He was pursuing his Phd and working as a lecturer in one of the premier colleges of the city when he left the job and started the brothel. He was proud enough to say that each one of them make 2 to 3000 bugs per day and I was stunned to hear that statistics.

" How do police react?" was my obvious doubt. "What police, nobody can touch us, there are our people in all the departments, they will give us correct information whenever any raid is due, more over we pay politicians too. Even if anyone is taken in custody will get them released within hours, that is our network, our customers also help us a lot."- he had clear cut answers for all my queries.

I thanked him and left the place. He didn't forget to ask my number and he gave me his number too. I felt like an embarassing episode was over. I cursed my carelessness not to take my camera on both the occassions.

Transgenderism is an issue that must be adrresed carefully, the scale of black spots and life in our society is unimaginable. This is all about the reduction of individuals into choiceless singularity and hidden duality, simultaneaously.

On Reservation, Rights and Talent

1990 : Justice Mandal commission appointed by Indira Gandhi in early 80s submitted his report to the then Janatadal PM Mr.V P Singh. A nationwide haul and protests were called on.Youth took the order of the street. The unfortunate turn of the incidents vitnessed a protestor succumbing to burns when he tried for suicide( though it was confirmed an accident later). That was the time soon after the cold war, after the disintegration of Soviet Union, the time when world order just started the transformation from the semi rightist socialism to the open consumerism and capitalism, the time when state was the largest employer(even today it is), and the begining of cyber revolution in India, and people were conscious about their rights, importantly.

Exactly after 16 years, 2006 : A congress ministry in power, noted economist and world famous scientist decorate the premier posts of sovereign republic of India, HRD minister Arjun Singh announces the move to sore percentage of reservation, aim : upliftment of scheduled and other backward communities. Whatever be the political interests behind this move, this time revolting India is having a different face; rocketing markets, vibrant and dynamic economy, record forex reserves, free and fearless inflow of FDI in the pipeline, satellites and optic fibres giving a new defenition and edge for connectivity and information reach, an unending line of print and electronic media to absorb the meakest itcheing from the society. again youth in the street, this time intellegentsia from India's most respected medical sanctorum, All India Institute of Medical Sciences, along with so many junior doctors mostly from urban India extended their hands in the protests against the new reservation policy. They all are conscious of their rights but what about their duties?

Why we never bother about duties? Why they are put in the last few pages of the civics text book at high school? why no politician or relegious leader aware the people about their duties? How dare the doctors, who in contemporary Indian society considered 'next to God' forget their duty and bother about rights? Why we are so conscious when it comes to the matter of us?( this us includes the urban and semi urban middle class and above) and our rights?

I'm a a strict opponent of any move to divide the society on the basis of caste or religion, and believe on equal rights and previlages to all citizens irrespective of their colour or creed as guaranteed by the constitution. But we must not forget that India means not only the urban nucleus. India doesn't mean the upper and upper middle class, who watch NDTV, who drink coke, who work for MNCs and ultimately who believe in 'talent'. It includes a vast variety of people in the rural and remote areas who adherently struggle to meet their ends.

How come this concept of 'talent' or 'merit'came? Does 'merit' mean the financial affordability of parents to warp ther wards to face and get through the GREs, CATs and JEEs? Who gave us the rose glasses to view and believe ourselves that everything in India is fine once Sensex kissed the 12000 mark or an IIM graduate gets a five digit dollar pack? I agree, India as a nation, since independence has improved a lot, both finanacially and socially. But we must not forget certain ground realities.

Much depends on what we mean by 'merit' in the recent debates and protests. In the present day nation of vast socio-economic disparities and inequalities, it is unjust and misleading to define 'merit' in an academic fashion. The majority in the top notch Business and Technology schools belong to the top 10 or 15 percent of the households, they are from families who can send them to private schools and invest considerable amount of money on coaching and other preparation for entrance examinations. But at the same time the rural Indian common man do not have the means to keep his child continuing his education after secondary or senior secondary level. The is the truth, we comfortably forget. So it is the duty of the society commited to equal rights and social justice to make it sure that the play field is level enough, to lessen this disadvantage of the backward sects. Nehru once put it like this -' the effort of the greatest men of our times was to wipe out every tear from every eye, so, as long as tear remains our work goes on and on and on..'

But we have been watching the sad erosion of the debating culture in our parlimentary democracy. An alarmed symptom is our collective faith in violence and the corresponding loss of debate and dialogue in our public life. This is the road we, should not, cannot afford to take. The backbone of ethical behaviour is the ability to see ones interest in harmony with the larger interests. The curse of any society begins when darkened self interests mount up and break the above said equilibrium and never give any sense even if they prove legally sound.

I'm not of the opinion that the propsed quota system must be implemented as such. Let 'quality', talent' and 'merit' be the basis of selection to the IITs and IIMs. But once we say 'merit' or 'talent', it must mean it. Let us debate and discuss and have a general concensus to mould wise policies which will patch up the disparities in the society and make it sure that true merit reach the premier institutes of our nation which are our pride. What we need at this point of time is patience, common sense and wisdom.

Eyes, the windows

If face is index of mind, eyes r gateways,
Desire, love, passion, hate, and despair,
eyes can't hide, they show the inside out.
Looks can hook n do wonders,
..ha wonder how women in pardas live
In the cruellest summer in the black robes
with only eyes outside, and tough to breath!
they roam the streets like dark pillars,
What they fear, the men, or the world outside,
Or just to follow the age old custom,
Ridiculous, cant explain otherwise
True for them, in all respects,
eyes are windows to the world.....

Happening Highderabad

I was keen to note the buildings, my first journey to Hyderabad, kept an eye out of the window glass of my bus, though didnt get the side seat. It was my travel from Bangalore to Hyderabad, from the most cozy climate to the central deccan extremities, from the homely comforts to a completely unknown city. The first sights were the minarets and domb shaped buildings of typical mughal architecture, the bus crossed a bridge and entered the city limits, it was just few minutes past 7'o clock, roads were still not alive. My first ac bus travel, I have much heared about the Hyderabad heat, was wondering how it would be outside, I asked the guy sitting next to me where to get down to reach Panchagutta. Right from his sleepy mood he told some thing in broken English and mixed Urdu and Hindi I suppose, better part of which I didnt understand. I reached the driver and sought his help, he asked me to get down at one point, I did.

I found women busily cleaning and sweeping streets, very few vehicles on that wide road, a well maintained divider with grass and Ashoka trees, fancy flowers, few milk vans passed nearby, an autowala came near and asked, I told him the name of the hotel where i was supposed to reach, without any hesitation he told the approximate amount which I agreed. I get into that vehicle, of course much better than Bangalore autos, less sound and emission, we passed past a vast lake, the Hussain Sagar, which seprated the twin cities. Within a few minutes we reached Somajiguda. Driver, a white capped muslim in his mid fifties, asked some pan makers where the exact location is and came back soon. I nodded my head with gratitude when he helped to take my luggage out. I stood infront of a huge hotel, Hotel IK London Residency. A security guard came running, greeted and lead me inside. He was wearing a typical turbain, very similar to those used by Coffee house waiters in Kerala.
Within few minutes I got my room, I had a bath and got ready to office. Only thing that I know was it was Maniconda, the name of the place where I needed to go. At Bangalore Praveen had given me a vague idea which side of the city is Manikonda is. A sweet lady at the hotel travel desk told Manikonda is 20 kms from there and will take about half an hour. There were no direct buses from that place, will have to go to Jubilee Hills and get go. I thought better go by auto, and asked an auto driver, he was amazed, as if I asked him to do something wrong, it was that far. But when I insisited he agreed to go by meter. We crossed different roads, all six lined, junctions, and tall buildings, this city has a blend of ancient and modern structures, vehicles were freely moving, never felt any congestions any where as in Bangalore, reached Maniconda by 10:30.

Wipro campus was a small one, compared to Bangalore, but a major part of it yet to be completed, construction work going on behind, I went inside the reception and called Sagar. Sagar and Parvathy, two my batch mated they had already reached here two days before. He told they were in B8, here tower names are told in the reverse order. I reached there, met Anamika, the resource manager of TIS, my division, she greeted with a pleasent smile. Gave me a desk and system, called Chandra, my PM, and told I have reported. I talked to Chandra over phone for quite some time.

We had lunch at Sodexho, was horrible, no variety at all, and everything had an Andhra touch, which we malus could never compromise. By evening 6'o clk i returned to my room. The next few days my only job was to go there till Wipro, checking and rechecking all the mails, to read the numerous forwards with utmost care, surfing magazines in the library, and coming back. My stay at hotel was an experience. My room was on the second floor. The company package included breakfast and laundry service. The first few days I was the only person in the restaurant who ate without using knife and cork. I cant stop my laughter when I saw Indian born people all around me tried to hide their difficulty in eating vada and idli with spoons. The waiters were very formal the first few days, will open the doors when I arrive, wish good morning, serve with minute care. Later they might have realised this guy need not be given that respect, cool, afterwards they became friendly and very close.

Somajiguda is the heart of the city, just like Majestic in Bangalore. All big shopping malls nearby, all kinds of business establishments, hospitals, and very busy and crowded streets. Road side vendors braved the unkindest summer heat to make a living from mangoes, coconuts, and various other seasonal fruits sale. Evening chat shops were few, which made me a bit disappointed. There was a hotel named 'Red Rose' nearby, where affordable food was served, the area was always crowded as it served pans, juices, snacks, and other eatables from its different outlets. I bought an iron box from an electrical shop near to it. Few hours of my familiarity with Hyderabad taught me the fact, people understood English language well, and they used it as an immediate alternative for Hindi. Shop keepers most of them muslims,were very friendly and ready to help. Whether it is hotel cashier or in an STD booth people smiled back with ease and pleasure, here nobody is that busy or engaged as in Bangalore, had time for a talk with any stranger, it seemed.

I was asked to move to Microsoft for my project. It was near to Wipro, Maniconda. The next week I reported there. It was an afternoon that I reached. There were no much formalities at the gates and reception. I stepped inside that campus admiring the beauty of the construction, Microsoft, worlds largest and wealthiest software company, spreads across 2 huge buildings blocks. My manager, Chandra was waiting there at the reception. He lead me inside, introduced to his team, warm welcome everywhere. I was thrilled. We then went to the cafeteria and had lunch. Comparing to wipro food here it was much better. But Microsoft lacked something, which Wipro had. I never felt like inside a workplace, I felt as if I were in a shopping centre instead, people busily walking, talking, eating and doing work, casually dressed, fancy cubicles and walkways, smell of high density room freshner in the air, the MS the campus doesn't have a soul, a worth, a feel of oneness, or a bond that binds the employer and employee together, it was business everwhere and all were the links of a huge business net, nothing more or nothing less. People from other companies who work here are called vendors, there itself a feeling of a secondary citizen, but in Hyderabad campus its difficult to spot a regular employee. All are either from Infosys, Wipro or TCS, poor vendors, who are asked to bear the secondary tag on their neck which read in bold letters, MICROSOFT.

The very first weekend I met Anubel and Ditin here at Hyderabad Central. They work with Satyam and Kanbay respectively, my class mates at Kothamangalam. One year since we met, not much changes, there were still the same, Ditin more improved in his 'chalus' and Bel the same old 'mandip'. There was Saraswathy also, my batch mate with them. We had food from a hotel nearby.

After ten days of stay at hotel I moved to Ditin's place. It was a place called Tolichowki, much near to Maniconda, he and his seven friends all in Kanbay stayed in a rented house, 4 bedrooms and a large hall; next to their house also so many people from Kanbay, it was like a Kanbay society. Sagar moved to Bindo's house. Bindo stayed with a couple of malayalees who work for Accenture and Infy.

One day me and Ditin went to 'Paradise' hotel. Paradise is the real paradise of biriyani lovers. One single biriyani costs Rs.90, but it was worth that, no single person with a normal capacity can finish it of his own. The way it was cooked, kept,and served made all the difference. Paradise was a hotel which could trace back its history from the British period.

I didnt get much chances to visit other parts of Hyderabad. Nobody will be willing to go out in the sun. Temperature is too high now a days. With the humidity effect and heat waves, life is torrentous in the day time, but evenings are pleasant. The real wonders of this ancient city are yet to be explored, waiting for the monsoon and winter.....

KUDLU DAYS

There would be much to tell if it is about kudlu, a small panchayat, in the outskirts of Bangalore, and near to electronic city. I reached Kudlu on an october morning with Anoop, my old pre degree batch mate when both of us joined wipro on a same day. My aquaintance with kudlu starts even before, as my cousin stays there. She too works with wipro and was coz of her that we reached Kudlu for a rented house. Me, Melvin, Binesh, Hari, all class mates at M A college Kothamangalam, have decided to stay together. Now Anoop also with us, we found a house quite near to my cousin's place. House owner's name was Madhuramba, a quite lady who stays alone, her children all settled well and she doesn't want to disturb them. She stayed alone in a single room on the first floor of that newly built house. We were the first tenants, occupied it even before the completion of the work. A house large enough by Bangalore standards, two spacious bed rooms, a dining hall and one living room, kitchen and little space for a store, a well built pooja room and attached baths, we felt it was not meant simply for giving to rent, but built it with so much care and perfection. It was an independent house with car garrage and enclosed by a compound wall.

Our neighbours were a Tamil family, an old man and his wife, on very few occasions we used to see his son, a lean man probably at his mid thirties with a lifeless face which never gave a smile. The Tamil old man, with a policeman moustache, was an interesting character, his living room was visible from our dining. Most days we see him watching fashion channels with great enthusiasm, even early mornings. So we gave him the name 'FTV appooppan'.

No tale of kudlu will be complete without Aniyettan. He is the 'Shabari' bakery owner at kudlu junction. A man with lot of energy and willingness to help others, who talks in the typical Kannur accent, even I'm from kannur,may be that is why we were a bit more close, he came to kudlu some 5 years back, with his brothe-in-law, started a small bakery near Garbhavepalaya, the place better known as 'Garepalya', he now owns couple of bakeries at kudlu and garepalya, and is one of the popular and accepted faces in kudlu. He maintained cool relationships with all, helped most the malayalees who are new to kudlu, his ease of kannada and local contacts helped us a lot. His willingness to help was unmatchable. He employed a kasargode guy there in his bakery, Shekhar, who speaks broken malayalam with a kannada accent.

It was difficult for us initially to cop up with the dusty roads and environ of Kudlu. The very next week we reached there, it rained in Bangalore so heavily and the dusty roads of Kudlu bacame a real tortue for travellers. It became so pasty and slippery and walking through the streets became a nightmare. There were buses in kudlu, all starting from Majestic, they went till kudlu village, some two stops from panchayat, where we stayed. Other means of transportation in kudlu were autos, and the most popular one indeed. None of the autos in Kudlu were bought after 1990 we suppose, all old torrental machines, produced drum like sound, used kerosine instead of petrol, had stickers of kannada matinee idols alongside ganesha and laksmi, made people to sit on both sides of the driver, ferried people from kudlu gate to panchayat amidst the dust and pits and charged 5 rupees per head. But we all enjoyed it.

Two weeks after our arrival Mathai and Raghavan (his name too is Arjun, inorder to avoid confusion he was called Raghavan and I was called Sagar at college, and we used to call him like that only) came. Mathai joined Igate and Raghavan was doing Embedded System course at Cranes. His class was in the evening and when we all go to office (ofcourse to sit in the bench comfortably) he used to be there at home whole day. After one month of training Hari was sent to Cochin, his posting location was there, and Joseph came from Chennai. By this time, Vidhu, Anoop's batch mate at TKM college joined us. Vidhu was a stout figure weighing little more than 100 kg. A born programmer with lot of patience and a bit shy. He never talked too much, but once we became familiar enough, he had his own word on every matter we discussed. He was from Palakkad and was a gifted person when it comes to the matter of cooking. 'Upma' was his master piece, he knew almost all the kerala dishes, there was a time when we felt like 'u-just-name-it-vidhu-will-prepare-it'. We had a gas connection and we were reluctant to go out and have local food, or to be frank we never had much options otherwise.

Joseph was my room mate at college also. His training was in Chennai and the very next day he came to Bangalore, he was put into project and didn't get any chance to enjoy the sweet bench phase of a software guy( which we all tasted a lot) in his life at all. Life in kudlu became so nice and comfortable afterwards. We had nice 'kathiyadi' sessions late night, exactly like in college hostel, bought cricket bat and stumps, played in the yard infront so also the ground nearby, Mathai took initiative to buy cards and he gave master degrees to all except me in that, Vidhu was a quick learner and an expert now in various card games. ( till this date i dont know how to play cards, despite all the efforts of Mathai.!!.)

The character we can never forget at Kudlu is 'sandhyechi', who is responsible for spotting this little village for stay. She is my mother's cousin, as per protocol, my aunt, though we differ just a couple of years by age. When she felt uncomfortable with the reference aunt, I stopped it and followed others calling 'sandhyechi'. She stayed at an apartment some 2 mins walk from our home.She stayed there alone defying all the traditional girlie concepts. A very much mood dependent person, with abnormal and unusual interests, her areas of interests include psychology and Tagore. Even though she pretends to be complicated and reserved at times, emotions were clearly understood and visible to others. She always tried to imitate the 'bold' mask of the modern working woman, and tried to put on a complicated self, though unsuccesful at times. She was of real help when we were new to Bangalore, to have a foot grip at an unfamiliar place, as one to resort for any immediate needs, which she did a lot.

During our early days at Kudlu we used to walk till Singasandra to board our bus to electronic city. The way is wonderful with pleasant meadows, empty roads, couple of shepherds with their herd, vast lands, and the cool Bangalore wether made our walking a nice experience, winter is a happy experience for an outsider, in this Cyber city. On the way to Singasandra is our ground where we play cricket..

After a few days at Electronic City Melvin was sent to Pune for a Mercury Project, all on a sudden our home became so silent and dull, he was the one who made all the noises, did most the scoldings, made the life alive, he was sent to distant. It was then that Shankaran and Sooraj came to Kudlu. Both of them were my batchmates at Wipro and, by the time when they came, were with me in free pool enjoying it. Shankaran, a Tamil pattar born and bought up at Thrishur, with a typical interesting way of Thrishur language and Sooraj from Kozhikode soon became the part of our Kudlu gang. There was a guy who worked in the soldering unit of GE staying infront of our home in a small cottage, Mohan. He was from Tamil Nadu, but language was never a barrier in communicating with him, his smile talked for him, with lot of positive energy and his unending love for cricket, soon he became friendly with our team. On sundays we played cricket together, he introduced his roommates and friends to us, slowly we were gaining relations in the neighbourhood, cool!!

It was then that Bosch came to Kudlu. to introduce him, he is Rajesh, basically from Alappuzha, a Konkani by roots and speaks that 'Chineese-like' language at home,works with Bosch, was in Germany for quite some time with an assignment, one fine morning he appeared there with his family, his wife and two lovely kids. We called him Robert Bosch, his wife Mico Bosch, kids milli and micro Boschs respectively.

Eating out was always a real problem in Kudlu, the only reason why we took a gas connection immediately. There were lot of restaurants( if u can call them so) to name in Kudlu, all like our 'thattukadas', prominent among them was 'Andhra Mess'. There was a hotel boy there, we never knew his name, but called him Jafar. It was Mathai who gave that name, Mathai's usual practice is to call waiters either Jafar or Gopalakrishnan irrespective of the hotel. So we had one Jafar and one Gopalakrishnan at Andhra mess, just 13 or 14 years old, both school dropouts, they presented a hearty smile whenever we called them so.

One day while coming back after a tiring cricket match, we got our 'burfy'. He was our puppy, we found two of them new born, just opened their eyes, Mathai took one of them home. We put him inside our garage, gave him utmost care, provided milk and other eatables, soon it became 'unda'. We tried to give maximum publicity for 'burfy' at wipro, we took its photos and showed them to all, we gave another name java to him and he came to be known as burfy alias java. But our house owner, Madhuramba didnt like it she asked us to set him free, she doesn't like any pets and one day even without our consent she let it out. It never came back.

To have malayalee food was not possible during weekdays, so we resorted to 'Ammachi' mess at Madiwala. Me, Joseph and Anoop will start at 6'0 clk shuttle from electronic city even though none of us had proper bus pass, Binesh and Vidhu join us there at Madiwala. It was at 'ammachi' that we take nice kerala food. We took so much pain in going there and coming back late night all for the 'ammachi' food. Our other eat outs were 'Tharavadu' at Bommanahalli and Kairali or Mas at Madiwala. First priority was given to food in all the occassions, and we went to any extend to have nice food, Bangalore never disappoints a foodie guy.

During february we went a trip to Courg, my first and last trip with Kudlu guys. We hired a Sumo and ten of us including Shankaran, Avinash and Sebastian set out for the two day trip. Mathai, Raghavan, Binesh, Vidhu, Joseph, me and Anoop were there. Kushal nagar, Madikeri, Nisargadama, Abbey falls, the trip was awsome, i bought an 'aanavaal' from Nisargadaama, where we went for an elephant safari.

On march 10 mathai had a bike accident, he and one our friend skid fall from a bike and mathai got seriously injured. It was the tough time for all at kudlu, his stage was critical for more than one week and he underwent couple of surgeries at Manipal Hospital. Somehow he recovered and he went back home after that.

On april 1 our old class mate rohit was with us. The previous night we handlifted Bosch's bike and locked inside our garrage. We eagerly waited to watch his response, the moment he realised that bike was missing. It was so funny, he went upstairs, called his wife and parents, came down, they all were shocked and desperately started searching for it. The tamil aunty in their ground floor started shouting aloud and before things going out of control we told them the truth. They couldn't believe it..he told he was never fooled in his life like that before.

Vishu was celebrated at kudlu, none of us went home. Rajkumar's death coincided with vishu sankramam and we got a public holiday for that. We prepared vishu sadya, with Sandyechi's help, set 'Vishu kani' the next day, for another auspicious year ahead. We couldn't buy crackers no shops were open thanks to Raj Kumar's death. Our Payyanur friends Abhilash and Sandeep were there on the Vishu day.

By this time Sandeep joined us, he was the neighbour of Bosch at Alapuzha. He works with Satyam, we could not put down Bosch's request to let him stay with us. He was a driving force and stout supporter of our initiative to clean the premises and make our surroundings plastic free. That was a great initiative, Bosch and one his colleague were willing to help. Even some local kids who use to play cricket with us joined and we removed plastic bags from the surroundings. Creating awareness among people and cleaning the road side, that was a wonderful experience, most the people wanted some change, but doesn't know how to. Our tamil neighbour was so happy with this move, she provided us with 'majjika' and later we started calling her 'majjika rani'.

'Mulaku bajji' and 'bonda' of Kudlu are worth mentioning, taste any of them we cannot just stop with one.

After Vishu me and Joseph bought two cycles and we started going to Wipro on cycle. Initially people laughed at us, but the comfort was unmatchable. We took the way through Singasandra and it lead to Hosa Road, from there it is only a small stretch through Hosur road till the HP avenue, where EC begins. It was the most comfortable means of transport considering the Hosur road traffic and the new construction works there.

I got transfered to Hyderabad later but Kudlu presented me memories to cherish for a long time.