Showing posts with label pune. Show all posts
Showing posts with label pune. Show all posts

A city called Mysore

I had the good fortune of living in Mysore for sometime. After a year and a half in Berlin, I was homesick, and in spite of Mysore not being my home, I felt like home here.

The first thing that I think about when I think Mysore, is pleasant weather.

I have a system to rank cities' worth living index. Let's call it the Arshatian City Life Index (I know, I can be more creative, but I am happy as long it has my name in it.)

After living in Berlin, 'living' in this context, means more than just going to college in the morning and parties in the night, 'living' here means being on the street with your packed bags, not knowing where to go. (For some reason, nobody would take us as tenants in Deutschland, wonder why! ). 'Living' means having half an Euro in your pocket and finding that everything on the menu, even coca cola, costs more than 1 Euro! After 'living' in Berlin and quick visits to London and Paris, coupled with hitch hiking through Eastern Europe (I know a post is due about my Euro trip, it's gonna be awesome), I have come up with a city life index to rank cities where I want to live most of my life.

So here goes :
Arshatian City Life Index Parameters (Weightage given in the brackets)

1. Weather (35%) : Weather is one thing that God or nature as you atheist pricks call it, gave you. No amount of GDP growth, centralised AC bathrooms or centrally heated garages are going to make it better. This is where Mysore scores all its points.

2. 24x7 ness (25%): By now, you must have realised I am making up these words, but really, if you know how cool 24x7ness is, you would know why this parameter is so important. I remember going out at 2 in the morning for a glass of milkshake when I was young. Yeah, that's Mumbai for you my dearies. Mysore scores very low on this parameter, though. Everything shuts down at 9 pm. It still does better than Berlin though. Except Falafel shops and clubs which are open all night long till the afternoon next day, everything else shuts down at 8!

3. Public transport (25%) : I am spoilt. I like to be taken from one place to another in a chauffeur driven rickshaw. I dont mind the bus either. I like trains too. This is one of the reasons why most American cities don't match up to the awesomeness that are European city. I don't get it. If Europeans built the US, how come they did such a bad job?
Mysore, like most Indian cities performs dismally. But it is still better than Gurgaon and Pune.

4. Exclusivity (15%) : In Berlin, you the firang! In India, you know how fascinating firangs are to the local folk? Indians are equally fascinating, if not more in Berlin. You have pretty girls come up to you and strike up a conversation...(Or maybe it's just me who's super handsome or something... yeah, we will go with that...) In London, there are more Indians on the roads than the English. I kid you not, there was a British soldier or whatever they are, you know the ones with red uniforms and that absurdly long hat? Yeah, that one was an Indian!
With my south actor looks (and weight) and a mustache to match, I was an insider in Mysore. Clearly it lost all it's 15% here.

There's nothing to see in Mysore or Bangalore for that matter. After you visit European cities, where everything is turned into a tourist spot by the Tourist authorities, you wonder how come such a thing never happens in India.

Anyway, given below are a few observations about Mysore:

* Sweater is all season wear. You will find people wearing sweaters in mid-May! Really, it made me ask one lady why she was wearing a sweater. She said - it's coldaaa.

The extra a's I gather were because of the extra cold, but later I found out that's how people here speak. And yes it does get incredibly cold in the morning. Even in Mid-may! (Europeans reading this blog, incredibly cold means 17 degrees in this country.)

* When people speak in a language you don't know, you talk to them in a language, you yourself arent too fluent in!

No seriously, whenever people started talking to me in Kannada (can't blame them, I had a mustache and south Indian actor looks) I shift to German. Not English, Hindi or Marathi, but German. This is how the conversation went when I once wanted to hire a rickshaw.

"Jayalakshmi puram?"
"Wokay"
"How much?"
"50."
"No. 30." (I can be quite a cheapstake.)
"Jayalakshmi Puram... far madi... naan orkunnai petrol badhai ho badhai... Pranab Mukherjee... nee papa parapo"

I bet he was talking gibberish, but I was bent upon saving 20 rupees. That's 1/3rd of a Euro, my european friends. Yes, I know you guys give away 3 Euros as a tip, but then that is why your GDP is falling and ours is rising. (Did I stoop too low?)

I shifted to German, as an instinct. I didnt do it on purpose. I swear -
"Aber, du musst petrol haben. Kanst du mir lift geben? Volkswagen. Das Auto. Audi. Vorsprung durch Tecknik."

He caught my bluff. He understood I was randomly naming car companies and their tag lines.
"No. 50 mean 50." He did a little twirl with his index finger in the air. I immidiately realised this was not a guy to be messed with. I gave him 50.

* Finding a place in Mysore can be tough. First you have to find a rickshaw driver who you think can speak broken hindi. Second you have to pronounce the name of the place you want to go right.

As an examples, all you north Indians reading this post, say "Kukrahalli Lake" 3 times. Do it in front of your south indian friends so that they can derive some pleasure out of it.

One you have pronounced the tounge twisiting name right, you are in for a treat as the driver tells you where it is.

"Sir, aap seedha jaana... Seedha matlab, straight-aaa. Fir dead end aana, dead end se left-aaa. Wahan pe ek bada building bolna toh, aapka building."

Go interpret.

* If you ask the locals for a place, they can be really vague.
"Anna, Gayathri Tiffin (an eatery in Mysore) kahan hai?"
"Gayathri Tiffin-aaa? Go straight-aaa, right mein ek bada tree hona. Wahan pe Gayathri Tiffin hona."

I went straight and found a big tree every 100 meters.

* The dasherra celebrations in Mysore are the best in the country. The streets are lit up, the palaces are lit up too. Due to this overspending by the Karnataga Govt. for a day, the rest of the year, the street lights are turned off to compensate.

* The filter coffee or "kapi" as they call it here, is the awesomest drink ever. Nothing pulls you up like a good cup of filter kapi. If only the Mysore govt decided to market it right, it would kick Nescafe's butt. Mysore makes Italy small. That is also because Karnataka is bigger in size.


At the end of my stay , I had begun to fall in love with the place. It was quiet, the weather was good, the food was good and the coffee, oh yeah.... It is a lovely place to retire. One part of me wants to buy a house there, the one with a front yard and a back yard. You know, some place where I could have a small garden, grow tomatoes and cauliflowers and chillies. A place where my grandkids could come visit. A place where I could spoil them rotten. Sound like I am getting old. And you know what, it's not that bad...


P.S. - I have been working on my second novel, that explains my absence... I will post an excerpt soon.. :)

A city called MysoreSocialTwist Tell-a-Friend

Editor in chief Arshat Chaudhary

Current Issues: , , ,
11 letters to the editor  

The excerpt


Do you know what a new book smells like? You know, a book that has just come out of the press? I love that smell.The smell of ink on fresh paper... It reminds me of my childhood. I used to smell the books while putting a new brow cover on them. (It was a rule in my school-no, not smelling, I mean, having covers on your books). The smell reminds me of a new beginning... it comforts me... It makes me feel that the past is forgotten. It's another day...

I have been really nervous the last few days... My editor told me that the Novel has gone into the press. They are printing copies as we speak...

I wonder how the final copy is gonna look. I wonder how it's gonna feel... I just want to touch it once.... I wanna just smell it once...

Here, I post an excerpt from the Novel : How I got My Girl Back...!

I hope you like it... If you do, do visit the site for more www.arshatchaudhary.com (It's up and running now)

Excerpt from
Chapter 19 :
The Date

“L9? That is level 9, right? I will be there.”

“See you around 8 then.”

“Okay”

I started getting ready at six thirty, I didn‟t want to be late or get stuck in the traffic. Pune traffic on Sunday nights is a devil. I wore my favorite Arrow shirt and jeans. I know, kinda weird, not something that you would wear to a restaurant, but tell you what; Indian girls find an office shirt worn over a pair of denims very hot! Okay, I didn‟t know that, Akshay told me.
I reached World Convention Centre around seven thirty. Entered my name at the reception and then took the elevator to the ninth floor. I approached the counter just outside L9.

“Excuse me, Sire!”
A guy dressed in a dark blue blazer, probably the captain at the restaurant stopped me. These swanky hotels have guys like these to make you feel unimportant.

“Yes?”

“You are not wearing a tuxedo!” He had a British accent. Fake of course.
I realized something. This guy, it was... it was... Umesh! In a Tuxedo! A Tux completely changes the personality of the person I tell you.

“Umesh? What‟s wrong with you?! What is going on?”

“Isn‟t it cool? I am the captain here and I want you to wear a Tux,” he said excitedly. He pulled out a black swanky Tux from behind the counter. “Here! Put this on!”

“I am not wearing any Tux!” I said. There was no way I was gonna change from the „hot‟ look to the „old fart‟ look.

“Hey look! I don‟t make the rules!” He said.
Someone tapped me on my shoulder. I turned to find her looking at me with her lovely hazel eyes. She was wearing a maroon salwaar kameez. It had some embroidery but essentially it was very simple. Just like her - simple and pretty. She had a couple of purple orchids in her hand.

“Dev? Why is everyone giving me orchids?” She asked in her honey dipped voice.

“Umm.. umm..” Think Dev, think! “Umm… „cause you are pretty.”

Maybe that was the setting Akshay was talking about. He must have requested all the guys to give her orchids. I must have told him only once that Pritha liked Orchids, and he remembered that!

“Nooo,” she said. “I come into the WCC and the gatekeeper gives me an orchid saying Ma'am you are beautiful‟. I go to the reception to enter my name, the man at the counter stops me and gives me an orchid saying 'Ma'am you are beautiful', I enter the lift and say Level 9, the liftman takes out an orchid and says-”
“Ma‟am you are beautiful?” I offered to finish her sentence. “See? I was right! They really like you. And who wouldn‟t, you are beautiful.”
She blushed at that.

“Uh.. should we go in?” She asked.

“Ma'am, there is a dress code.” Umesh pitched in. “Tuxedos for men, evening gowns for women.”
“Oh.. but, I don‟t have a evening gown!” she asked.
What was he doing! He was ruining the whole thing. Just then he pulled out a turquoise evening gown from behind the counter and handed it to Pritha. Now turquoise is the name that girls have given to the color blue. I mean, why can‟t they call it blue! Wasn‟t turquoise an animal that goes into its shell every time it senses danger? Oh wait… That is tortoise.

“Ma‟am, you can wear this!” Umesh said handing her the gown. “And this too,” he handed her high heeled sandals or whatever they call them.

“Oh.. but do I absolutely have to?”

“Yeah, does she have to?” I quipped in. I was worried she might call the whole thing off.

“Sire, I don‟t make the rules.”

“Are these my size?” She asked checking the gown and the high heels.

“They sure are!” said Umesh.

This is the guy who gets up at six to take a dump, this is the guy who wears a baniyan for most part of the day and here he was ordering us to „dress up‟. Anyway, we decided to dress up, in our respective costumes of course, and in our respective restrooms of course.
I wore my tuxedo and came out of the men‟s restroom. I waited outside women‟s restroom for Pritha. She took a good twenty minutes to get dressed. Girls always take a lot of time to get dressed. But I swear to God, it‟s all worth it! She came out, wearing her turquoise evening
gown.

She looked beautiful! Her hazel eyes, her lovely curls, her curvy body. The dress hugged her body, revealing her figure. Till now, I had seen her in loose Salwaar Kameez which covered most of her. This gown was held by delicate straps at her shoulders. This was the first time I saw her shoulders. They were so shapely, and so delicate. My eyes lingered down. I wanted to soak in as much as I could. I would be lying if I said I wasn‟t aroused…, sexually. I would be lying if I said that 'thoughts' didn't cross my mind. Pritha saw me looking at her. Girls can distinguish between a glance and a leer. I was leering for sure.

“How do I look?”

My throat went dry. In a hoarse voice I said- “lovely!”.

She blushed. To be honest, I don‟t get why girls like Pritha blush after hearing something nice about them, I am sure they must hear such things about them all the time. But then, maybe, not the compliment but the person who gives the compliment matters.

I gave her my arm to hold, like they show in old Hollywood movies. She let out a laugh and held it as we entered the Level 9. Umesh held the door open for us. There is a small indoor section at L9 too. But today it was empty!!!

Who would wanna eat inside when you got such pleasant weather, and for some lucky blokes like me, such pleasant company? We kept walking through the indoor section and finally reached the terrace. The terrace was empty! There was a single table at the far corner of the terrace. Pritha looked at me confused. I wasn‟t less confused. Why was L9 so empty on a Sunday night!

“Sire! This way Sire.” It was Kunal! He wore a white blazer, like those waiters in costly places.
We walked to the lone table on the terrace. I pulled the chair for Pritha. It was dark on the terrace save for one pink candle that was on the table.

“It‟s a lovely night, isn‟t it Dev?”

I looked up at the sky. There was no moon. There were like a billion stars. It almost felt like they were here to watch us.

“It‟s lovely,” I said. Then looked into her eyes and said, “But not as lovely as you.”
She smiled. It was peaceful. Just me and her. Isn‟t that how God meant it to be?

“How come we are the only ones in the restaurant?” She asked.
Only if I knew! Akshay had come up with this. But the thing is, why hadn‟t he told me about it? And where was he! Pritha was looking at me, waiting for an answer.

“Umm… maybe they decided to let in only those couples who were made for each other.”

Pritha looked at me, kinda amused at what I had said.

“Devvv?” She said half amused, half annoyed.

“Pritha.”

Her name is so sweet. Calling her name out like that seemed to say that I mean that thing about made for each other.
Now, I knew she was someone's girlfriend, and here I was telling her that she was meant to be with me. Pritha was bound to be a little taken aback, albeit in a good way, to see this side of Dev.

The Dev she knew would always be a little hesitant to say something of that magnitude! But I figured that I had nothing to lose, since I was not asking for her answer. In fact, I wasn‟t even waiting for her answer. I almost declared that she was made for me.
Kunal came in with the menu.

I placed the order for Risotto olla Milanese and Russian salad. She asked for the Roasted vegetable Mediterranean Lasagne.

“You look handsome in this Tuxedo,” she said, looking at me.

I tell you, it is such a thrill when a girl you love says that. I felt a shot of blood rush to my ears. When Akshay had coached me, he made one thing clear, you have to be ready to keep her guessing, keep it interesting…

“Well, thanks. I always look good in rented suits,” I said. The line wasn‟t that clever but I couldn't come up with anything wittier than that then. Trust me, it‟s difficult to think straight when you got blood rushing in far extremities of your body.

Kunal brought in two plates. This time, instead of bread crumbs there was actual food in the plates.

We ate in each other's company. Soft music, I think it was Ronan Keating's 'When you say nothing at all', that was playing in the background. The only other sound was of the knife and fork touching the plate. I would say something silly every now and then and she would laugh her sweet laugh. Her laugh - like a seven year old‟s - unrestricted, full of innocence and clearly brimming over.

For dessert, I ordered a Gelato, while she ordered Vanilla ice cream with Kahlua. What is Kahlua? Don‟t even ask me! To be honest, I think even she didn‟t know about it.

“What is a Kahlua anyway?” I asked.

“I have no idea!!” She said it with mock confidence. For a moment there I thought she was kidding me.

Kunal brought in the dessert. She savored every bite of ice-cream. The metal spoon touched her pink lips, the cold ice-cream melted as soon as it touched her warm lips. I never knew you could eat ice-cream like that. My throat ran dry. She noticed me staring at her.

“What are you staring at Mr. Dev?”
Using „Mr.‟ as a salutation, when least required, is a girl‟s way of flirting.

“I..I..wasn‟t staring…”
Forget all coaching. If the girl decides to get flirty, you are on your own mister.

“Oh, yes you were!”
She smiled; baffled, but quite enjoying the fact that she was being stared at.

She looked at the sky.
“There are so many stars in the sky!”

“Yeah…” I managed to say. “There are so many more in your eyes.”
A smile played on her lips...

“But there is no moon today,” she said.

“There is one,” I said looking at her.

Soft music was still playing in the background. Now it was playing- I love you by Robbie Williams

“May I have a dance with you Mr. Dev?” She said.

If I didn‟t know better I would say she was high. The ease with which she was with me was quite uncharacteristic of her. She had always been this shy girl. Most of the times, she had trouble meeting my eyes, and here she is now asking me for a dance. Nothing wrong with that really, only that I have two left feet and hadn‟t received any coaching on dancing with Umesh. I gave the empty terrace a quick glance.

“Oh.. a dance? Really? Okay.”

I was not gonna miss this chance of holding her close to me.

I held her hand and led her to the centre of the terrace. She was wearing high heels and was finding it difficult to keep balance. I have always had a liking for simplicity. Pritha always kept it simple. No flashy clothes, no major makeup, no fancy high heels, she was comfortable in her own skin. In a way, she was so unlike me, I always wanted to be someone else.

I held her close to me. Since she was wearing high heels, she now almost came up to my height. She rested her left hand on my shoulder and I held her right hand in my left. Her hands seemed so small in mine. But it fit so perfectly. I placed my right hand on her waist.

The song played in the background.
Then afterwards we drop into a quiet little place And have a drink or two And then I go and spoil it all By saying something stupid Like I love you
I pulled her close to me. I think God hardwired us to slow dance, which is why even men like me who can‟t co-ordinate the movement of their feet to a simple left-right-left, have no problems dancing with a girl in their arms.

And then I go and spoil it all
By saying something stupid Like I love you...

She placed her head on my shoulders. We kept moving to the soft tunes of different songs.

________________________________________________





P.S.

1. Please do join the community How I got My Girl Back...! on facebook : http://www.facebook.com/group.php?gid=125312997504438

2. Also there on orkut : http://www.orkut.com/Main#Community?cmm=102975754

3. If you wish to be updated about the book, please do follow me on twitter : http://twitter.com/arshatchaudhary

4. Btw, this was my 200th post :)




The excerptSocialTwist Tell-a-Friend

Editor in chief Arshat Chaudhary

Current Issues: , , , ,
12 letters to the editor  

The Judge's daughter

Short story

She joined school after the first midterm in the 8th grade.. Public schools are pretty strict when it comes to joining school on time. Her dad must a big shot, Rahul thought..

She was cute, petite, had short shoulder length hair.. She was confident, very sure of herself...

The class teacher introduced her as Kritika Rajan.. Kritika gave a friendly smile..

Rahul noticed her cute dimples.. Now Rahul wasnt a dimples guy.. never was.. But he couldnt stop staring at her as she smiled. Rahul was the tallest guy in the class, so he always took the last bench, Kritika took the third bench. Good for him, coz he could steal a glance or two everytime she smiled and those dimples flashed..

She had asked Rahul for his Geometry notes.. Apparently, Rahul's teachers had high regard for the guy, they had suggested Kritika to get his notes to cover up for all the portion she had missed the last semester.. Rahul was obviously too happy to help...
She came fuming to Rahul the next day...
"I dont get your handwriting.."
"Arre, samjha woh likh.. baki drawing nikal! hehawhaw"
"Shut up.."
Clearly, it was not the right time..
"Okay, what didnt u get?"
"This word - 'cle' Whats tht?"
"cle- cle means 'circle'!!Thats called Rahul shorthand!!" Rahul shrugged..
"Ooookay.. whats 'rle'?"
"Rectangle!"
"Oh.. and 'tle' is er.. triangle?"
"Way to go girl.."
"Oh.. hmm.. hey, can u please wait after school to help me understand more of your shorthand? Please! Pretty please!"
Now how could anyone say no to that!!

That evening, among congruent and similar triangles, she opened up to him.. She talked bout her favourite movies, the sitcoms she watched, how much she loved Tv and why..

Rahul never met her father, but was pretty sure she was her father's daughter.. She was honest, strong willed, tough..
Her dad was a high court judge, and now was on the special bench for political cases. He must be an honest guy.. They dont transfer someone at a post that high that often.. Kritika later told him that she had changed 5 schools in the last 7 years. She had stayed in Nagpur, Aurangabad, Solapur, Pune and now mumbai.. she hadnt spent more than 2 years at any one place. She had very few friends, most of them in Pune, where her dad was last placed.



There was this place behind the school building.. It was like a very small playground, with a single swing, a slide, an incredibly small see-saw and a cement bench, for the teacher to sit and govern the pre-primary kids... He had seen the kids play there in the small sandy place. It seemed big when he saw them kids play there, but now that Rahul was sitting there waiting for her, the place seemed too small.. kinda cosy..

She came, she wore a pink sweater.. weird are these ppl who come from Pune.. After the freezing cold of Pune, they still find the need to wear sweaters in Mumbai! But then, Rahul didnt mind, she looked hot in that pink sweater..

"You have cute dimples.."
"What?"
"Your dimples.. they are cute.."
Its weird how a girl who is that tough around others melts when shes around someone she likes..
"No they are not..", she tried to look away, trying to suppress a blush..
"Yes they are.."
"Noooo", the more she tried not to, the more she blushed..
"Yes they are.."
"No, they arent.."
"Yes they are"

The Judge's daughter she was..., she liked winning arguments, but she liked him too..., she could let him win this one...


Back in school they behaved like total strangers.. Ofcourse there was a glance here and a wink there.. but they made sure not to come within 1 metre of each other.. The fact that no one knew about them made it more thrilling!

They started meeting every evening behind the school after school..
She always wore that pink sweater, now, even more coz she knew Rahul liked it on her..
"You got nice hair.. and pretty eyes.."
Its weird how naive these 8th grade boys are! No creativity they got I tell you..
"Nooo.. No one has told me that before.."
"Well, I am telling you now.."
"No, they arent that pretty.."
"Yes they are.."
"No"
"Yes"

The Judge's daughter she was..., she liked winning arguments, but she liked him too..., she could let him win this one...


December days get kinda chilly, even in Mumbai.. That day it was a bit chilly.. Even Rahul wore a sweater to school that day.. he normally thought he was too cool to wear one! He looked at Kritika who was sitting on the third bench.. she looked lovely as ever..

He kept looking at her throughout the Geometry and Science class.. Restlessness grew within him as last lecture of the day was approaching.. He wanted to be alone with her.. Talk bout stuff.. bout what he loved.. his fears.. his dreams...

The bell rang.. After everyone had left the school, he went to the playground at the back of the building..
She was sitting there.. The golden sun rays of the evening sun were falling on her face.. her dark hair looked golden brown in the sunlight.. It was very cold, she was wearing her pink sweater.. He could stand there looking at her all his life..

She looked at him.. Something wasnt right.. or so it seemed..
He sat beside her..

"Whats wrong.."
"My dad’s getting transferred.."
"Again?"
"Yep..This is my last week in the school.. My dad will be transferred to Nagpur"

She was taking it amazingly well..

"What? But it has been only three months!"
"Oh.. I know"
"You wont miss me?"
"No, why?."

This was weird.. didn’t she feel anything for him..

"Not even a little?"
"Umm.. a little.. maybe.."
He saw a mischievous twinkle in her eyes..

"You liar.. You not going anywhere, are you.."
"I sooo got you there..haha"
"Stop laughing meano.."
"Nahi re, my dad is getting transferred.. But I am staying with my Grandmom.. "
"I m not even talking to you.."
"Aaww, I am so sorry re.. sorry sorry sorry.. "

She must have said sorry bout 9 times.. And there must be guys reading this thinking that it doesn’t make things better.. but trust me, it does..

Rahul’s heart melted..

Its not fair.. Men were made taller and stronger.. Men fight, eat with their hands, drink from the carton.. What was bout these girls that made men all soft inside.. damn..

"Not fair..You cant do it to me.. I like you"

It was the first time he said that to her. Both of them knew it, but it was the first time he said it to her..

"I like you too.. more than you like me.. "
"No, I like you more.."
"No, I like you more.. "
"Nope, I do.."


The Judge's daughter she was..., she liked winning arguments, but she liked him too..., she could let him win this one...

She smiled, Rahul’s heart melted. He had won the argument.. But something he lost.. And he was not sure what..

She held his arm close to her and placed her head gently on his shoulders…

Last time I saw them, they were just 14 year olds, with dreams in their eyes.. and maybe.. one day... they got married...., and had kids and yes..., like all good stories go.. They lived happily ever after...


________________________________________________________
I am a sucker for happy endings.. Something didnt seem right in the last story. So I changed the ending..Happy New Year Guys..:)
 The Judge's daughterSocialTwist Tell-a-Friend

Editor in chief Arshat Chaudhary

Current Issues: , , , ,
21 letters to the editor  

A city called Pune..

I was at Pune last week.. Now like every true blue Mumbaikar, I have been brought up to look down at every city other than Mumbai..
I wasnt expecting anything special from Pune..
I was pleasantly surprised...


Some musings...

*There r more colleges on one street of Pune than all of Mumbai.


*The rickshawalas are allowed to joke.. Rs.800 for a 6km ride at 1 am? hahahahaha... so funny..

Another time another day..
Me: Jagtap dairy? kitna?
Rick: meter+half or return
Me: Nahi re.. itna paisa nahi hai
Rick: okay.. 90
Me:nahi 30(something I learnt from my bargainin pro female frds..)
Rick: kya sahab.. chalo aapke liye 60..
Me: nahi yaar 30(man!! i am good..)
Rick: okay 50..
Me: roz ana padta hai yaar.. 50 roz-roz bahut costly hai..
Rick: (shifting to may marathi) 20 rupayat tumcha kay jaanar..
Me:(sticking to matrubhasha hindi) nahi yaar.. bahut costly hai..
Rick: aacha baitho

In bold letters MISSION ACCOMPLISHED!!

Btw, we got to be good friends at the end of the ride.. he told me what buses to take and what all places to visit in Pune.. I asked him if he was on orkut and what his name on his profile was but then he thought i was getting too personal.. But he did tell me that he had his Ricks pic on his profile.. I have been searching for it ever since..



*There are only two age groups in Pune less than 25 and more than 55...There is no middle aged uncles/aunties around here..You will not find anyone around 35-40 walking the streets on Pune..I dunno how they do it..But I gotta feeling that the Govt. secretly kidnaps guys who are more than 25 yrs and less than 55.. To me, it looks like a social experiment.. Someone's got a better theory?

*Darvin derived inspiration for his theory of "Survival of the fittest" from the the Pune traffic.. The driving skills possessed by Punekars would make a Andheri bred-SV road driving-foul mouthing-horn honking rickshaw driver envious.. Punekars drive like they are playing a PC game.. Its like they gain extra point for cutting lanes and overtaking on flyovers..
If you dont overtake someone from the wrong side in the first 3 mins of driving its considered a foul.. You are red carded and ejected from the game for 90 mins.. what? seriously!!!



*The girls here are pretty, or so you guess..coz all of them have scarves around their faces with only their eyes showing... A lil tid-bit- Men in Afghanistan can tell a burkha clad womans age and how beautiful she must be just by noticing the spring in her step..Infact there are stories about how these Afghani men caught burkha clad female Russian spies just by noticing their walk.. I have become pretty much the Afghan myself...

*There so many scarves sold here... Girls, you know!!rolleyes they have like 7 diff scarves for 7 different days - (baby pink for Monday, green for Tuesday, turquoise for Wednesday etc.).. btw, turquoise is a female version of blue..
According to the last budget 07-08, the sale of scarves in Pune contributes 0.3% to the country's GDP.. Its the second biggest industry in Pune after IT.. mrgreen

*Koli was driving me around the city one day when this scarf clad girl picked up a race against us.. She beat us for the first half of the race, but the male chauvinists that we are mrgreen we werent ready to accept defeat from a lady rider.. Koli revved up the engine and beat her to the Pune university(thts where she was going we figured out).. For the record, the girl had an Activa while we had a fully loaded 150cc Xtreme..mrgreen

*Pune is one of the few places which has an ideal boy-girl ratio.. Apparently ever guy with a bike has a girl(scarf-clad ofcourse..) on the back seat.. In much anticipation I asked my frds if they had found someone special, they hadnt.. it turns out they didnt have bikes!! Two of them had cars though, but as it turns out, cars dont do the trick.. How do u spell l-o-s-e-r-s?twisted

*The apartments that I stayed in Pune deserve a special mention.. I stayed near the IT park in the burbs.. Huge apartments they have.. I stay in a 3BHK here in mumbai but flats in Pune are wayyy bigger... and their balconies.. hugeee balconies(half the size of the my bedroom)..The living room is the size of Eden gardens.. You could actually play Test matches there..(one tappi out ofcourse)

*I cant do without mentioning the weather..The weather is pleasant..
There was this day when I went sight seeing, I walked around 7-8 kms that afternoon, and not a drop of sweat!!
It doesnt rain tht much, but the temperature drops a good 5 degrees every night...With balconies big enough for you to play golf in, the evening is the best time to sit out there and soak in the scenery..
Both the apartments that I stayed in during the visit were on the 7th floor and offered quite a view of the city.. One word - Beautiful.. Dont tell Mumbai, but this was the first time I thought of settling outside mumbai..



If I have to compare between Mumbai and Pune, I would say Mumbai is like a middleaged businesswoman..(It has to be a woman, a man wont wear the queen's necklace now, would he?) Shes well established, respected and powerful.. She has worked hard to get where she is now.. shes always busy..she never sleeps...shes enterprising.. shes colourful.. shes fantastic!

Pune on the other hand is a 15 yr old.. Shes fun loving.. Shes beautiful, just like most girls are when they are 15.. shes got a few pimples here and there, but they only add to her beauty.. Shes growing up.. shes busy, but not coz she has to attend business meetings, shes busy coz she has to meet her frds or go shopping or do other girlie stuff..

As different as they are, they both are special in their own way...For the first time I am finding it difficult to choose between Mumbai and some other city.. And I thought this day would never come..

Special thanks to the guys who had to bear my company: Harish, Amit, Hemant, Suru, Ambrish, Abhjit and Koli.. All of them SPCEites.. What camaraderie!
Special thanks to Rishikesh aka monu
Thank you for the memories.. A city called Pune..SocialTwist Tell-a-Friend

Editor in chief Arshat Chaudhary

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