A friend forwarded this to me:
I found the 7 Secrets of Success in my room:
Roof said: Aim high
Fan said: Be cool
clock said: Every minute is precious
Mirror said: Reflect before you act
Window said: See the world
Calender said: Be up-to-date
Door said: Push hard to achieve your goals
Friday, May 23, 2008
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
You broke my heart, Indore
"Hindusthan ka dil dekho" (Check out India's heart) - goes the jingle of Madhya Pradesh tourism advertisement. But the heart of this heart of India really broke my heart! Yes, I am talking about the city of Indore which I visited for a brief while sometime back.
Of course I Googled on "Indore sightseeing". When I saw the results, I thought I could get a lot of local sites covered during the half day that I had at my disposal. Visiting Mandu has been a dream since long but I knew it wouldn't be possible this time around.
A hasty conference with the Travel desk at the hotel added 2-3 more sites to my Google-list. Armed with my camera phone, water bottle and wet face napkins I got ready for the tour. Our first halt was the Ganesh temple nearby. I got a bit confused when I saw a cluster of temples. "The one at the center is the Ganesha temple madam" - the friendly-neighborhood driver came to my rescue. But I visited all of them anyways. Though I believe in God I am not very religious. In fact, the throng of devotees at any major temple complex gives me a fright. Somehow any form of organized religion starts looking like a cult and the sheer commercialization of it all drives me mad. Here too the temples were crowded but I thought many people were locals - not tourists. The idols were simply beautiful and most important of all the temple premises were clean. I managed to visit all the temples and hoped that the Gods wouldn't mind my presence ?My hands were itching to take photos and there were no "No photos" signs in sight but I know that in many places the restriction is implicit so I refrained from taking any. I emerged from the temple premises with a tilak on my forehead and a red thread tied on my left wrist. (I am still wondering why it had to be the "left" wrist though. My past experience tells me that at least the Hindu religion considers the left hand "Not sacred").
The next stop was the Rajwada. According to one of the internet sites, this is a 200 year old palace of the Holkar dynasty and a mixture of French, Mughal and Maratha architecture. This is the place where my heart broke for the first time during the trip. My first reaction on getting down near the Rajwada was - "Are you sure we are at the right place?" With the assurance that he had brought me to the right place the driver disappeared to the parking lot somewhere at the back.
I don't understand much about architecture but I must say that I didn't like what I saw. The 1st 3 floors are of one type of architecture and the next 4 of the other. Somehow to my untrained eyes it looked as if the floors were piled on without much thought to the overall look of the structure. My driver had informed me that during the '84 riots the electronics shops (near the palace) that belonged to the Sikhs were burnt down and in the confusion part of the palace was gutted too. He also informed me that restoration work was going on so as to make the palace more appealing to tourists. 23 years? Just for restoration?
I ventured inside and the wide empty courtyard unnerved me. A sort of make-shift temple was put up in one area. Few homeless people were roaming about. On the other side a wide room was filled with some objects (maybe books) bound in red cloth. I couldn't make myself ask whether it was possible to visit the upper sections. I just stood in the courtyard and looked up at the desolate structure. It looked like a "Ghostly mansion" from some B-grade horror flick.
I felt sad and I felt angry. I am not a "royalist" by any stretch of the definition. Looking at the scandals in the royal families that still exist and the way the crazy "Paparazzi" hound their life I am secretly glad that India is spared all this. But standing at the deserted courtyard of that 200 year old palace I asked myself "did we have any right to abolish monarchy if we didn't know how to take care of its legacy?" Don't we have any respect left for our heritage? The city is plastered with the cutouts of the politicians but not a single one of them seems to have time or enthusiasm to get this palace restored. It might sound melodramatic but I felt as if the palace stood there like an orphan child - whom no one wanted, no one cared for.
My driver had told me how to reach Sarafaa Bazaaar so I turned in that direction - but only half-heartedly. I walked for some time but my city feet and mind cringed at the thought of walking down the twisting turning alleys. Scared of getting lost, I retraced my steps as carefully as I could. On my way back I noticed a small shop selling bangles and bought one- more as a reminder for this sobering experience than for the beauty of it.
If the driver was surprised at my early arrival he didn't show it - maybe he was used to this. We next proceeded for the Chhatri Bagh. These are the canopies erected in the memory of the Holkar family members who have passed away. It was the state of these Chhatris that added to my melancholy.
As I got down from the car and walked towards the structure I noticed that the place was very dirty. I turned to the left as that side looked relatively clean. The carving on the structure was beautiful but I couldn't enjoy it as I kept nervously eyeing the beggars and homeless people that were staring at me. I observed that there was a temple on the right side but the mud and filth on the ground was too much to even think about going there. Don't get me wrong. I am not saying I have walked on marble floors all my life, but I expect the area next to the temples to be clean. And I feel that any temples that fail to do this don't have the presence of God anymore.
So I turned back and reached the car in 5 minutes flat. This time the driver's face clearly registered surprise. He was in the process of parking the car and there was concern in his voice when he asked me if anything was the matter.
"Kuchh nahi hai dekhane ke liye waha siway bhikhaari aur begharon ke" I blurted out half in rage, half in sadness. I didn't even ask him where we were headed for as the car started to move. I just wanted to get away from that place which is a testimony to our inefficiency, carelessness and indifference - as fast as the car would take me. I just sat there - feeling helpless. Clearly I am supposed to do something to change this. But what? And how? Like many questions in life I didn't get any answers to these.
When I finally found my voice I asked the driver if any of the Holkar family is in India now. He said none as far as he knows. There was some wedding about a year back he thought but nothing after that. "So no one looks after this place?" I asked the question though its answer had stared me in the face only a few moments earlier. The driver started blaming the politicians - the favorite Indian pastime. "But don't we ourselves elect them?" I asked. "What to do madam? We elect someone who looks the least corrupt. He becomes most corrupt as soon as he gets elected" pat came the reply. "Story of India!" I said to myself. Maybe it's high time we did something - people like you and me and every common man on the streets of India.
Maybe we shouldn't have campaigns before elections. We should make these candidates demonstrate some real work. Make them go to people and find out what the problems are, prioritize them and get them solved. 5 projects per candidate - one of them has to be restoration and upkeep of heritage sites. Make the whole process transparent so that there is no chance of hanky-panky.
The candidate that gets the most projects done - by fair means - wins. If they are going to turn corrupt eventually at least we will get something done before they do. ?Rest of my Indore story probably doesn't matter. I visited a few more places like Lalbagh palace, Kanch Mandir and Bada Ganapati. These were in better condition. But my heart was beyond mending. It still is!
Of course I Googled on "Indore sightseeing". When I saw the results, I thought I could get a lot of local sites covered during the half day that I had at my disposal. Visiting Mandu has been a dream since long but I knew it wouldn't be possible this time around.
A hasty conference with the Travel desk at the hotel added 2-3 more sites to my Google-list. Armed with my camera phone, water bottle and wet face napkins I got ready for the tour. Our first halt was the Ganesh temple nearby. I got a bit confused when I saw a cluster of temples. "The one at the center is the Ganesha temple madam" - the friendly-neighborhood driver came to my rescue. But I visited all of them anyways. Though I believe in God I am not very religious. In fact, the throng of devotees at any major temple complex gives me a fright. Somehow any form of organized religion starts looking like a cult and the sheer commercialization of it all drives me mad. Here too the temples were crowded but I thought many people were locals - not tourists. The idols were simply beautiful and most important of all the temple premises were clean. I managed to visit all the temples and hoped that the Gods wouldn't mind my presence ?My hands were itching to take photos and there were no "No photos" signs in sight but I know that in many places the restriction is implicit so I refrained from taking any. I emerged from the temple premises with a tilak on my forehead and a red thread tied on my left wrist. (I am still wondering why it had to be the "left" wrist though. My past experience tells me that at least the Hindu religion considers the left hand "Not sacred").
The next stop was the Rajwada. According to one of the internet sites, this is a 200 year old palace of the Holkar dynasty and a mixture of French, Mughal and Maratha architecture. This is the place where my heart broke for the first time during the trip. My first reaction on getting down near the Rajwada was - "Are you sure we are at the right place?" With the assurance that he had brought me to the right place the driver disappeared to the parking lot somewhere at the back.
I don't understand much about architecture but I must say that I didn't like what I saw. The 1st 3 floors are of one type of architecture and the next 4 of the other. Somehow to my untrained eyes it looked as if the floors were piled on without much thought to the overall look of the structure. My driver had informed me that during the '84 riots the electronics shops (near the palace) that belonged to the Sikhs were burnt down and in the confusion part of the palace was gutted too. He also informed me that restoration work was going on so as to make the palace more appealing to tourists. 23 years? Just for restoration?
I ventured inside and the wide empty courtyard unnerved me. A sort of make-shift temple was put up in one area. Few homeless people were roaming about. On the other side a wide room was filled with some objects (maybe books) bound in red cloth. I couldn't make myself ask whether it was possible to visit the upper sections. I just stood in the courtyard and looked up at the desolate structure. It looked like a "Ghostly mansion" from some B-grade horror flick.
I felt sad and I felt angry. I am not a "royalist" by any stretch of the definition. Looking at the scandals in the royal families that still exist and the way the crazy "Paparazzi" hound their life I am secretly glad that India is spared all this. But standing at the deserted courtyard of that 200 year old palace I asked myself "did we have any right to abolish monarchy if we didn't know how to take care of its legacy?" Don't we have any respect left for our heritage? The city is plastered with the cutouts of the politicians but not a single one of them seems to have time or enthusiasm to get this palace restored. It might sound melodramatic but I felt as if the palace stood there like an orphan child - whom no one wanted, no one cared for.
My driver had told me how to reach Sarafaa Bazaaar so I turned in that direction - but only half-heartedly. I walked for some time but my city feet and mind cringed at the thought of walking down the twisting turning alleys. Scared of getting lost, I retraced my steps as carefully as I could. On my way back I noticed a small shop selling bangles and bought one- more as a reminder for this sobering experience than for the beauty of it.
If the driver was surprised at my early arrival he didn't show it - maybe he was used to this. We next proceeded for the Chhatri Bagh. These are the canopies erected in the memory of the Holkar family members who have passed away. It was the state of these Chhatris that added to my melancholy.
As I got down from the car and walked towards the structure I noticed that the place was very dirty. I turned to the left as that side looked relatively clean. The carving on the structure was beautiful but I couldn't enjoy it as I kept nervously eyeing the beggars and homeless people that were staring at me. I observed that there was a temple on the right side but the mud and filth on the ground was too much to even think about going there. Don't get me wrong. I am not saying I have walked on marble floors all my life, but I expect the area next to the temples to be clean. And I feel that any temples that fail to do this don't have the presence of God anymore.
So I turned back and reached the car in 5 minutes flat. This time the driver's face clearly registered surprise. He was in the process of parking the car and there was concern in his voice when he asked me if anything was the matter.
"Kuchh nahi hai dekhane ke liye waha siway bhikhaari aur begharon ke" I blurted out half in rage, half in sadness. I didn't even ask him where we were headed for as the car started to move. I just wanted to get away from that place which is a testimony to our inefficiency, carelessness and indifference - as fast as the car would take me. I just sat there - feeling helpless. Clearly I am supposed to do something to change this. But what? And how? Like many questions in life I didn't get any answers to these.
When I finally found my voice I asked the driver if any of the Holkar family is in India now. He said none as far as he knows. There was some wedding about a year back he thought but nothing after that. "So no one looks after this place?" I asked the question though its answer had stared me in the face only a few moments earlier. The driver started blaming the politicians - the favorite Indian pastime. "But don't we ourselves elect them?" I asked. "What to do madam? We elect someone who looks the least corrupt. He becomes most corrupt as soon as he gets elected" pat came the reply. "Story of India!" I said to myself. Maybe it's high time we did something - people like you and me and every common man on the streets of India.
Maybe we shouldn't have campaigns before elections. We should make these candidates demonstrate some real work. Make them go to people and find out what the problems are, prioritize them and get them solved. 5 projects per candidate - one of them has to be restoration and upkeep of heritage sites. Make the whole process transparent so that there is no chance of hanky-panky.
The candidate that gets the most projects done - by fair means - wins. If they are going to turn corrupt eventually at least we will get something done before they do. ?Rest of my Indore story probably doesn't matter. I visited a few more places like Lalbagh palace, Kanch Mandir and Bada Ganapati. These were in better condition. But my heart was beyond mending. It still is!
When I checked out the date of my last posting here I realized that I have been absent for almost 2 weeks :-( It wasn't that I didn't have anything to write about but I guess it was nothing short of pure unadulterated laziness. And I guess after 4-5 days of inactivity there was apathy as well. I mean, who cares whether I write or not. There is hardly any feedback on this site.
Then suddenly today I found some free time on my hands. That plus what a dear friend wrote once in an email. He had said that he writes solely for himself - for the joy of expressing himself. I don't see what could be a purer reason than this.
Those of you who have seen the movie "Abhimaan" might remember the dialogue between Amitabh Bachhan and Jaya Bhaduri when they meet for the first time. She tells him frankly that she doesn't like some of his songs. He says that he doesn't like some of them either but has to sing them because people like such songs. Surprised, she asks him whether he sings to make people happy. Now it's his turn to get surprised as he wonders why else would he sing. She simply says that she sings because she feels happy doing it.
Likewise, I should write because I feel happy expressing myself. :-))
Then suddenly today I found some free time on my hands. That plus what a dear friend wrote once in an email. He had said that he writes solely for himself - for the joy of expressing himself. I don't see what could be a purer reason than this.
Those of you who have seen the movie "Abhimaan" might remember the dialogue between Amitabh Bachhan and Jaya Bhaduri when they meet for the first time. She tells him frankly that she doesn't like some of his songs. He says that he doesn't like some of them either but has to sing them because people like such songs. Surprised, she asks him whether he sings to make people happy. Now it's his turn to get surprised as he wonders why else would he sing. She simply says that she sings because she feels happy doing it.
Likewise, I should write because I feel happy expressing myself. :-))
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
