INSIGHTFUL TALKS, QUIRKY WRITINGS ON INDIA…

From the Virushka Wedding

From the Virushka Wedding Of late, i have been watching a lot of the snippets released from the Virat- Anushka wedding. Not that one is into celebrity gossip ( thats never me !) but just out of curiosity, now that the headlines are so glaring and unavoidably staring at one and all ,from every social media channel… And so, here are the ambling indian’s snippets or nuggets of wisdom on the whole do-da… 1. The wedding was very discreet- at least , it was meant to be, until the media got a whiff of it. In complete contrast to the regular Big fat Indian wedding, there was no show-sha before; with the couple even denying the whole plan.. 2. It was very classy- the venue in Italy @BorgoFinocchieto,, one of its kind, the flowery decor( made of elegant pastel roses )and the pictures, spoke of class and again, discreet spending. Never mind that it only cost about 13 lakhs a night.. the designer @devikanarain and the photographer are known for their classy wedding designs, so hats off to them and the celebrity couple for keeping it that way, not garish, no loud helicopters showering confetti or trumpets blowing loudly- but simply put, simply classic. 3. No dowry exchanged hands- Now this is a conjecture, but can you imagine the parents of Virat asking Anushka’s parents for a couple of millions, in exchange for their precious son and their wedding expenses? Just since he is the no 1. in Indian cricket? In fact, the whole thing seemed to be planned by the couple, with the parents really playing to their loving...
Glory be to Glasgow

Glory be to Glasgow

The seasons of change… The seasons have changed again and, this time, I am back to gorgeous Glasgow and to Scotland , after a long, long time.. Memories jog back as i walk across the Queen’s park, breathing in the autumn chill, enjoying the sunny day, feasting my eyes on all hues of autumn leaves and barren trees, with the sun streaming through. Seems like ages.. almost eons ago…when I walked across the same park with mum and baby.. three generations who strolled together, enjoying the same autumn hues, the meandering walks on sunny days, across to the lake where we fed the swans small bits of bread. And nothing much has changed since then, for the same swans ( or maybe the next gen of them) is cackling aloud, scrambling for pieces of bread, as another family – a grandmum, a mother and her young one feed the birds, the young one jumping with joy as a piece of bread is caught; dexterously, by yet another swan.. Its another delight to see that nothing much has changed over the many years; the same Glasgow Glasshouse with its collection of flowers, the reptile house, and the highest looking point that sees over the city. Fond memories flood back again.. It is time for the meandering walk across the beautiful park that i have come back to.. carrying many beautiful memories of the past, spent in this city.. Glory be to Glasgow – may it never change; may it always be a beacon of steadiness in this ephemeral world … Regards Aina Rao The amblingindian. www.amblingindian.com – for more quirky reads...

The season of change

The season of change – Bangalore : July 31,2016     The seasons change. Overnight, the mercury plummets. The rajais , comforters and woollies come out. Seems so typical of nature-to be taking one by complete surprise each time- just two months ago: a hot, arid and unbearable summer, suddenly overtaken by welcome but incessant rain, and then the cold winter months. If the  vagaries of nature weren’t enough , the vagaries of human behaviour also  envelop me with complete surprise.  A season of bandhs descends on Bangalore – almost a dark, cloudy, menace like season  – starting with the BMTC bandh ( a complete stoppage of Bangalore municipal transport buses) , and then moving on to Karnataka Bandh ( a protest against the water tribunal award of river water).  And so a whole week goes by, nothing gained, nothing achieved , but much lost. Kids languishing at home, for all schools have stopped. Commuters held to ransom for going to work. Daily wage workers tightening their belts for losing their livelihood . And it doesn’t stop there. So much more lost, by way of morale, productivity, and common sense. What sense does it make though- to stop work completely because someone is not happy with What they get paid How much water they get from the river water sharing agreement What stops them from walking out of the situation a?  Walk out of the job if unhappy- isn’t that ideal? The Bangalore transport staff are not bonded or wedded to their jobs. Why hold a city to ransom? Cushy government jobs are a privilege for some, not a right....

From demonetisation to demobilisation

From demonetisation to demobilisation… Love it or hate it – Demonetisation in all its glory has spoken . Along with this masterstroke, I wish though, that Mr Modi had created another one. The one of demobilisation. Now what on earth is meant by that big term… de..mobi.. lisation. Putting it in very simple terms- all it means, dear reader- is that- the way Mr Modi, the Indian PM, has stopped people from using cash and pushed them online- I wish, somehow, that he would stop people from using mobiles too, and cajole them towards the written word. In a very non- destructive way that is. No need to burn piles of mobiles here, just ask people to send messages or mails explaining what they want, instead of calling up at all odd times, especially targeting the times that you are brushing your teeth, or having a bath, or having stuffed your mouth with a particularly crunchy piece of food … And  what are you supposed to do when that happens? Pick it up and mumble your way through the conversation with lots of embarassing background noise… Return the call immediately after, by which time the other fellow might have gone for a bath,or be brushing his teeth, or have his mouth full of a pizza slice.. I mean, how, are you supposed to  know , apart from telepathy? Send an sms stating- busy, please message me. To which there will invariably be no reply. Anyway, wasn’t that obvious- the fact that the phone didn’t get picked up meant that the person was busy , right ? But that wouldn’t...

This land, our own

This land- our own? by Aina Rao | Feb 11, 2017 | Every now and then comes a post that shakes you and makes you want to cry. A 2 year old who wants to die as a refugee ?This is so.. unbelievable – it belies belief itself. Who gives us the right to kick others out of a land, a place, a country even? Who are we to call a place our own and not that of others? Who decides what we own? It is very easy to forget that we ourselves are living on borrowed time, on land that has never been ours. We mark our territories thinking and assuming that they belong to us. When in fact nothing is ours for keeps. One fine day, we will leave this earth too.. we have to.. its not ours.. it has never been. To all the bigots out there.. the aces and the trumps.. don’t forget that you are just an insect in the vast expanse of the universe. The walls, the regulations, the restrictions you make, just a creation of your imagination. You think you rule this earth.. Read on..from Kabir, the 16th century saint : ” mati kahe kumbhar se tu kya ronde mohe ik din aisa aiyega mai rondogi tohe” ” Clay says to the potter- are you kneading me today , wait for the day when i will knead you into dust…” Regards Aina Rao www.amblingindian.com Post from CNN below http://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/manitoba/manitoba-refugees-border-crossing-1.3972374 ———————————————————————————- After the quirky characters- the amblingindians and the blog, here comes… A fun story on India–Bollywood, IITs, IIMs, politics  & more, a...

A BMTC bus ride

A BMTC(local) bus ride! It had been many, many, days since I took a BMTC* bus ride. Not that one doesn’t want to. It’s just that there never seems to be the right combination of available time, a suitable bus route, or leisure that one can find. It just seems so much easier to hop into an auto (and now that Ubers are here, even more so), than wait and take the trouble to get into a bus. It came as a welcome change, when there was the chance to go to Richmond road, which very conveniently , is served by multiple buses on the arterial old airport road. And so, it was the BMTC bus I got into. Not the fancy – airconditioned Vajras, but the regular BMTC ones . The ones that get washed perhaps, once a year. Or maybe its gross exaggeration- more likely to be washed once a month. And having got in, and secured a precious seat ( it was off peak time on Saturday), it was an experience certainly worth its while. For starters, the ride was smooth. No jarring music, no loud mobile phone conversations. Simple folks, looking out of the window, as would be expected in a bus ride.  As it used to be, in the olden days, before the mobiles took over almost every minute of precious existence. I sat there and looked too. And that was what made the bus ride so much more worth the while. I must have travelled along the old airport road at least a thousand times before, but, it was only this time, that...