Would anyone have thought, even 10-15 years ago, that it is possible to go to a place as far as Sikkim from Bangalore by bus?
No way, right?
Yet, starting tonight, that's what we intrepid four are doing.
We tried train tickets- the normal way, the Tatkal way and the premium Tatkal way. Unfortunately, none of that worked out. Instead of giving up, we are now splitting our journey into multiple bus rides- Blore to Vijayawada by overnight sleeper bus, spend a day in Vjw. Then Vjw to Bhubaneswar by overnight sitting bus, then spend a day in Bbn (probably recovering from the overnight sitting journey). Then in Bbn we have two options: either take a short train to Siliguri or two more buses, first to Kolkata and then to Siliguri.
We have tried the first for now (tickets are still waitlisted, no confirmations yet), figuring that worse come to worst, we can always book bus tickets after scoping the scene at Bbn.
Booking Indian train tickets, I'm realising, really teach one the meaning of fate, timing, and risk tolerance.
I'm not even going to start with Tatkal, other than to say that we were miserably beat by the system. But let's think about waitlisted tickets for a second.
For instance, if one happens to get a waitlisted ticket, used to be, when I was younger, that one went a bit early to the station and watched one's father stand in various lines trying to get tickets before the charts would be prepared. Nowadays, you can cancel your ticket... But if you leave it too late, you risk losing a significant sum of money in cancellation charges. Or you play a game of chance: if your ticket is still waitlisted by the time of charting, you get nearly your full amount back. If even one happens to be confirmed, you have to then cancel the ticket, which means you forfeit that entire amount for that ticket. If your requested berths happened to be AC 2tier, like ours was, then you are talking something like 3-5k per ticket (depending on the train)
Today, we played for high skates (almost 11k) with the Indian railway system: at the time of chart preparation, we were at WL1-4. And we ended up getting the amount back. Phew!
Good start to the holiday. We are in a bus to Vjw now, enjoying the (slightly dubious) comforts of an upper berth sleeper.
Sikkim, we are coming!
Friday, September 27, 2019
Thursday, September 26, 2019
Tatkal
Booking tatkal tickets is like a game in who-can-click-the-fastest.
Yesterday, I was too slow.
Today, I'm geared up and ready. Really hoping it works out and that there are no hidden rules that I have not yet figured out.
16 minutes to go for the window to open online.....
Yesterday, I was too slow.
Today, I'm geared up and ready. Really hoping it works out and that there are no hidden rules that I have not yet figured out.
16 minutes to go for the window to open online.....
Wednesday, September 25, 2019
Brain block
Apparently I can only blog when I'm slightly sick, very stressed.
Any of the other times, when I'm trying to make myself write, nothing comes out... it's utter mental constipation. Stress me out a bit, then some diarrhea happens (mental, I mean. Apologies for the various potty-metaphors)
Any of the other times, when I'm trying to make myself write, nothing comes out... it's utter mental constipation. Stress me out a bit, then some diarrhea happens (mental, I mean. Apologies for the various potty-metaphors)
Aaarrggh
Can there be another word in English that is abused more than "disruptive"?
In the startup world, disruptive is used to describe EVERYthing.
Give the poor over-used word a break, people. Why not try something a bit less... well... destructive-sounding?
In the startup world, disruptive is used to describe EVERYthing.
Give the poor over-used word a break, people. Why not try something a bit less... well... destructive-sounding?
Tuesday, August 20, 2019
Attempts at stillness
I've never been able to meditate. All the stuff about letting go, concentrating on your breathing, imagining a dark pool into which you dive: have tried multiple times before, but meditation is like exercise: the more you do it, the easier it becomes. And like every exercise I have ever tried, I haven't kept it up.
I recently flipped through some pages of a book called A Million Thoughts by Om Swami. What I liked was a section where he says, first learn to sit still, without moving a muscle- not even to swallow your own saliva when it pools at the back of your throat.
I thought this would be a good way to start. It sounded less like meditation and more like an exercise in willpower- which I do love to challenge. Om Swami had also described the way in which to sit- upright posture, with back rest initially, hands not on the laps, but in the center, maybe one on top of another, mouth slightly relaxed, tongue resting against the edges of the teeth, with a slight smile on the face.
So, a couple of days ago, I sat on the floor of the study room, after the house emptied of kids and husband. And I tried stillness.
It was remarkably difficult. Every possible part of my skin that could itch itched. My neck, back, legs and hands found muscles that suddenly needed stretching, the hair in my nose tickled, and just when I thought I had controlled them somewhat, my body decided that I needed to cough and sneeze at the same time.
I gave myself three conscious movements- three swallows. But I tried to still everything else. Regardless of how frustrating it was to sit absolutely still without a single movement, it was still exhilarating. I didn't time myself that time, but it felt like a really long time!
Today, I tried it again. I gave myself 3 sessions of 5 minutes each and with a firm resolve not to have any conscious movements, including swallowing. The first 5 minutes dragged on forever. I started by concentrating on my breaths- in and out, in and out. My hands twitched a bit, and I realized I had moved them only after they already moved. Just as I was about to leap up in frustration and check that the timer was still on, the timer went off and I sighed in relief.
The second set of 5 minutes: I realized that just the act of observing my breath changed it- I was becoming breathless, my lungs felt quite stressed and my hands started twitching even without my conscious action. Thinking back, there was some feeling of anxiety that arose every time I focused on my breathing. I wonder why. During this session, I had decided not to use a backrest, just to see if I could do. And by the time 5 minutes had passed, I was leaning a bit in front without having realized that I had moved at some point of time.
The third set of 5 minutes got over before I even realized it. And I think I was slightly better at a) not concentrating on my breathing b) dropping thoughts before I could dwell on them too much c) Stopping my movements before they started.
Looking forward to doing this some more...
I recently flipped through some pages of a book called A Million Thoughts by Om Swami. What I liked was a section where he says, first learn to sit still, without moving a muscle- not even to swallow your own saliva when it pools at the back of your throat.
I thought this would be a good way to start. It sounded less like meditation and more like an exercise in willpower- which I do love to challenge. Om Swami had also described the way in which to sit- upright posture, with back rest initially, hands not on the laps, but in the center, maybe one on top of another, mouth slightly relaxed, tongue resting against the edges of the teeth, with a slight smile on the face.
So, a couple of days ago, I sat on the floor of the study room, after the house emptied of kids and husband. And I tried stillness.
It was remarkably difficult. Every possible part of my skin that could itch itched. My neck, back, legs and hands found muscles that suddenly needed stretching, the hair in my nose tickled, and just when I thought I had controlled them somewhat, my body decided that I needed to cough and sneeze at the same time.
I gave myself three conscious movements- three swallows. But I tried to still everything else. Regardless of how frustrating it was to sit absolutely still without a single movement, it was still exhilarating. I didn't time myself that time, but it felt like a really long time!
Today, I tried it again. I gave myself 3 sessions of 5 minutes each and with a firm resolve not to have any conscious movements, including swallowing. The first 5 minutes dragged on forever. I started by concentrating on my breaths- in and out, in and out. My hands twitched a bit, and I realized I had moved them only after they already moved. Just as I was about to leap up in frustration and check that the timer was still on, the timer went off and I sighed in relief.
The second set of 5 minutes: I realized that just the act of observing my breath changed it- I was becoming breathless, my lungs felt quite stressed and my hands started twitching even without my conscious action. Thinking back, there was some feeling of anxiety that arose every time I focused on my breathing. I wonder why. During this session, I had decided not to use a backrest, just to see if I could do. And by the time 5 minutes had passed, I was leaning a bit in front without having realized that I had moved at some point of time.
The third set of 5 minutes got over before I even realized it. And I think I was slightly better at a) not concentrating on my breathing b) dropping thoughts before I could dwell on them too much c) Stopping my movements before they started.
Looking forward to doing this some more...
Friday, July 19, 2019
Pictures of idols
Temple idols of various Gods and Goddesses were sculpted or carved or cast or whatever with a particular story in mind, right?
Like the Parthasarathy temple in Chennai was built to commemorate Krishna as the warrior in the Mahabharatha; the little ambegalu Krishna temple in Chennapatna was built to remember Krishna as a crawling baby etc.
No matter what the idols are or what the story might be, many temples think that the best ways to decorate the idol is to dunk it under half a ton of flowers and leaves.
Excuse me Mr. Vadiyar, if you do this, how in the world am I supposed to know what I'm praying to?
Sure, I could take the long view and say, well, everything alive and beautiful is God therefore it really doesn't matter what I'm praying to, even if it is just a mound of flowers and twigs, but then why bother worrying about the exact way of alankar then?
I would much rather see an idol like this:
Firstly, you can see the face and the expression. You're like, hey, that's a friendly, if a little startled-looking, God.
You can see the carvings, you can see the markings on the wood. This idol is one that allows you a bit of imagination.
The idol's been carved out of wood (and kept in a silver casket under water and brought out every 40 years.. this year is a 40th year and as usual, a lot of hullabaloo). This is before the idol got covered up in a lot of ghee and honey and milk and all the other stuff they like to dump on it. No wonder He looks startled...
On the other hand, take this set of idols:
God only knows who these idols are supposed to be... Krishna, Balarama and one of Krishna's wives? Rama and co? Some other version of either God? You could put in anything in there which is a bit golden and shiny and all of us would just take your word for it for what it actually is.
I know these are deeply personal and religious matters and that some acharya many thousands of years ago must have laid out precise instructions for exactly how each idol has to be decorated on which particular day. I'm not arguing against any of that.
I'm just saying, might be nice to see a proper face once in a while.
Like the Parthasarathy temple in Chennai was built to commemorate Krishna as the warrior in the Mahabharatha; the little ambegalu Krishna temple in Chennapatna was built to remember Krishna as a crawling baby etc.
No matter what the idols are or what the story might be, many temples think that the best ways to decorate the idol is to dunk it under half a ton of flowers and leaves.
Excuse me Mr. Vadiyar, if you do this, how in the world am I supposed to know what I'm praying to?
Sure, I could take the long view and say, well, everything alive and beautiful is God therefore it really doesn't matter what I'm praying to, even if it is just a mound of flowers and twigs, but then why bother worrying about the exact way of alankar then?
I would much rather see an idol like this:
Firstly, you can see the face and the expression. You're like, hey, that's a friendly, if a little startled-looking, God.
You can see the carvings, you can see the markings on the wood. This idol is one that allows you a bit of imagination.
The idol's been carved out of wood (and kept in a silver casket under water and brought out every 40 years.. this year is a 40th year and as usual, a lot of hullabaloo). This is before the idol got covered up in a lot of ghee and honey and milk and all the other stuff they like to dump on it. No wonder He looks startled...
God only knows who these idols are supposed to be... Krishna, Balarama and one of Krishna's wives? Rama and co? Some other version of either God? You could put in anything in there which is a bit golden and shiny and all of us would just take your word for it for what it actually is.
I know these are deeply personal and religious matters and that some acharya many thousands of years ago must have laid out precise instructions for exactly how each idol has to be decorated on which particular day. I'm not arguing against any of that.
I'm just saying, might be nice to see a proper face once in a while.
Saturday, June 29, 2019
Teaching is horribly hard
How do people teach little kids without losing their patience? Especially if the kids show attitude and generally behave like little brats?
My mom was there to help me with the kids and their school work till last year. I managed it somehow after she passed on, mostly by concentrating on D and letting A do things his own way. But this led to A doing not-so-great in Hindi and Kannada, his nemesis subjects, though he ended up with As or Bs in the other subjects.
This academic year, D is in first grade, has a full schedule of subjects and I entered this with some pretty high expectations for A. I felt he was getting lackadaisical and lazy and wanted him to feel like he ought to give things his best shot.
Well, the year has only just begun and already I'm ready to pull my hair out and bang my head against the wall.
A has developed a sneering, know-it-all 'tude- he only wants to keep watching cricket or playing it. He yells at me, refuses to write down anything and wants to skim through the stuff in the most superficial manner.
D is the other extreme: gets extremely anxious about everything, bursts into tears if she feels something is incorrect and generally panics if she can't find something, whether it's a pencil or a notebook.
Getting them to study at the same time is an exercise in juggling- giving one kid an assignment and teaching the other, while also answering the first kid's questions and grumblings and ignoring everyone whining.
God, writing this makes me realize how out-of-control this classroom is. I don't think I should be teaching the kids anymore. This is some sort of mental abuse I'm subjecting everyone to, with the yelling and drama. I need to dial my expectations way, way down.
Is this why people put their kids in tuition class ?
I need to change my attitude entirely. Although, how? Tell Ani that he's free to study the way he wants? Maybe I should only intervene with Hindi and Kannada and leave the rest to him (Though... God, it makes me cringe when I see his mistakes in Maths... but no, that way lies mental torture. I need to let him make his mistakes, but also need to teach him that he and only he can put the effort into doing something well. How the hell do other parents bring up their kids? How does one push somebody hard without tipping them over the edge? Where is the manual for these kinds of things?)
With Durga, I need to give her some constant, low-level attention, instead of piling on the pressure just before any exam. And I need to give her some cuddles and physical affection to calm her down. Not scold her for getting tensed.
I am the problem in this scenario, I think. And it will only improve if I step back, take a deep breath and trust my children.
Can I just say, I miss my mom! I know it's been over a year and I need to move on, but it's times like these when I really really miss both my parents and I really wish I could just kind of hand over the kids to someone a bit wiser, more loving and more patient.
My mom was there to help me with the kids and their school work till last year. I managed it somehow after she passed on, mostly by concentrating on D and letting A do things his own way. But this led to A doing not-so-great in Hindi and Kannada, his nemesis subjects, though he ended up with As or Bs in the other subjects.
This academic year, D is in first grade, has a full schedule of subjects and I entered this with some pretty high expectations for A. I felt he was getting lackadaisical and lazy and wanted him to feel like he ought to give things his best shot.
Well, the year has only just begun and already I'm ready to pull my hair out and bang my head against the wall.
A has developed a sneering, know-it-all 'tude- he only wants to keep watching cricket or playing it. He yells at me, refuses to write down anything and wants to skim through the stuff in the most superficial manner.
D is the other extreme: gets extremely anxious about everything, bursts into tears if she feels something is incorrect and generally panics if she can't find something, whether it's a pencil or a notebook.
Getting them to study at the same time is an exercise in juggling- giving one kid an assignment and teaching the other, while also answering the first kid's questions and grumblings and ignoring everyone whining.
God, writing this makes me realize how out-of-control this classroom is. I don't think I should be teaching the kids anymore. This is some sort of mental abuse I'm subjecting everyone to, with the yelling and drama. I need to dial my expectations way, way down.
Is this why people put their kids in tuition class ?
I need to change my attitude entirely. Although, how? Tell Ani that he's free to study the way he wants? Maybe I should only intervene with Hindi and Kannada and leave the rest to him (Though... God, it makes me cringe when I see his mistakes in Maths... but no, that way lies mental torture. I need to let him make his mistakes, but also need to teach him that he and only he can put the effort into doing something well. How the hell do other parents bring up their kids? How does one push somebody hard without tipping them over the edge? Where is the manual for these kinds of things?)
With Durga, I need to give her some constant, low-level attention, instead of piling on the pressure just before any exam. And I need to give her some cuddles and physical affection to calm her down. Not scold her for getting tensed.
I am the problem in this scenario, I think. And it will only improve if I step back, take a deep breath and trust my children.
Can I just say, I miss my mom! I know it's been over a year and I need to move on, but it's times like these when I really really miss both my parents and I really wish I could just kind of hand over the kids to someone a bit wiser, more loving and more patient.
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