Part II is gonna be like all sequels... far more boring than Part I... in fact, I wouldn't hv written this, except to complete the description of the trip... more for my own memories than for anything else...
So, here goes...
I and another friend decided that we would do something that we had not done for the past 1 ½ years after joining a b-school – watch a sunrise!!! So, we pushed ourselves to get up at 5.30, and walked down to the beach. And, what a glorious sunrise we saw… show me the hottest babe on earth and show me a beautiful sunrise… and I’ll pick the sunrise any day… (after all, who can be hotter than the sun???)… ok no more PJs…
We crossed the tiny stretch of the river by a 2 rupee ferry trip to land at Moti Daman fort… now, this one was much better than Nani Daman fort… but, it is still a huge building made of stones, and so not much to see there…
Well, it was Sunday morning, just after Diwali, and the entire town was deserted. So, we had a good time roaming around with not even a stray kutta to disturb us…
The town area was full of bungalows for Government ‘servants’ and a lot of Government buildings. Not much to see there.
Then, we proceed to Jampore beach… a 5 km ride by a rick… I thought I had seen the worst of auto rickshaws, but this one took the cake (and the icing and the entire damn bakery shop). There were EIGHT of us travelling in that rick, including the driver. If rick drivers were to ever become fund managers, this one would be the hedge fund investing in wine funds...
Jampore beach… now that is something else… it changed my perspective of Daman… from a dirty place for daaru seeking dudes to a more acceptable holiday spot… this beach was my kinda place… calm, serene, no pesky vendors with chilled beer, not even other tourists… and there were benches under trees put up by the Daman tourism board (or some such)… I sat down on one, and for the next 1 ½ hours listened to the silence of the place… absolutely amazing experience… now I know why our ancestors used to camp off to Himalayas to become sadhus… this kinda silence is hard to get in a city like Mumbai… after a refreshing 90 minutes, had to leave as the check out time for the hotel was nearing…
Now I know what I am gonna do when I retire… buy a small house on the beach… put up a hammock, get some good books and just chill…
So, back from Jampore to hotel… check out… back to station… back to boring Mumbai and usual routine… with memories of a trip that was good, bad and ugly to say the least…
Oct 28, 2006
Oct 24, 2006
Diwali, Daman and Daaru...
Day 1:
This is almost a travelogue… basically, a way of boasting to the world that while you were scooped up in your home doing pooja and eating sweets, I got to go on a trip to Daman, and chill out.
We take off for Daman on Diwali morning… train journey of three hours was fairly uneventful except that we had to travel standing… (the typical MBA habit of JIT tickets did us in)
We reach Vapi and take off for Daman in a shared taxi. Like most small towns in India, the taxi driver firmly believes that taking the legal limit of 4 passengers is safe, but then, he has also learnt that fundamental principle of finance – There is no return without risk. So, he loads six people in the taxi – 4 at the back and two in the front… but we don’t mind as long as we get to our places… cheap but alive!
We book a room… fairly economical at 100 bucks a head… I’m already beginning to like this ‘budget’ holiday… I also indulge in my favourite pastime of reading Indian signboards in small towns… I had already noticed two in no time… The hotel has a board which proclaims “OUTSIDE FOOD AND DRINKS NOT ALOUD”. I hope it means we can bring daaru from the neighbouring shop as long as we do it silently…
A nearby shoe shop proclaims “New Stoke Sale”… I just luvvv the Gujarati pronunciation… Imagine having ‘snakes’ for breakfast…
A friend had advised us to visit Dadra and Nagar Haveli first… so, we traverse back to Vapi in another taxi… similar manner, similar rate…
Vapi to Dadra in a rickshaw… this time, 4 passengers in the rick… I get the privilege of sitting in the front seat… fairly uneventful journey… We reach Dadra Garden… typical sarkari maintained garden… sleepy and boring… the only things that moved were the ducks roaming around… not even lovey-dovey couples necking each other like in Ooty… btw, one more addition to the funny words collection… the fast food centre in the garden serves “Masroom soup”…
We take a rick to Silvassa… and the driver, seeing four clueless tourists, realizes that he has got his Diwali bonus after all… he promises to take us to all the tourist attractions in Silvassa for 300 bucks wonly… after some typical Indian bargaining (we start at 200 and move up, he starts at 300 and moves down), we end up at a mutually agreeable 250 bucks… even though he might still be fleecing us, we feel good because we had ‘bargained’…
He takes us to the ‘Lion Safari’… an artificial sanctuary… the outside office looks real cool… bamboo building, really admirable… there is a sign-board of a ferocious looking lion… we pose happily with that sign-board, without realizing that this was as close as we could get to a lion… well, the entry fee to the Safari is 25 bucks (“Rs. 100 for non-Indian tourists”… even the Government fleeces the unsuspecting foreigners, so why blame the tourist guides and taxi drivers??). We are taken in a caged Maruti Gypsy, and driven around… it feels like an adventure but it is post noon and the lions seem to be enjoying a siesta… (so what if you paid 25 bucks a head, the lion is only interested in four legged creatures it seems)… finally, we spot a lion and a lioness sitting under a shady tree… seems like they had just watched “Pyaar ke side effects” as they were sitting facing away from each other… the chance of additions to the lion family there seems remote… btw, we just learnt that the sanctuary houses a grand total of TWO animals… the ones we just saw… since we had seen 100% of what the sanctuary offered, it was time to go…
The driver of the vehicle is apparently influenced by Mark Twain’s advice of brevity… when we ask him “Sher ko khana kya dete ho?”… he replies, “Maans”… ooh, and I thought lions were vegetarians!!!
We then visit a dam… nuthin eventful about this one too except some half naked kids jumping about in the water… these kids actallu jump off from the high bridge into the water some 15 feet below… I wonder why they don’t train these bacchas for the Olympics…
From the dam, we return to Silvassa for a visit to the museum… Again, a typical sarkari maintained museum… sleepy, silent and empty… no guides, poor lighting, objects of some tribes arbitrarily placed… with some obscure write ups ( I really think I could spice up those)… absolutely not recommended unless you are interested in tribal history…
From the museum to a leisurely lunch, with beer… and then back to Vapi, and then to Daman… a visit to the Nani Daman beach… the sand was not fine, more gravel type… the beach was poorly lit (blame the Diwali Amavasya too)… and as we were incredibly lucky, the water was far away due to low tide (stupid Amavasya again)… well, this beach too was crowded with vendors selling all ‘snake’ items… the bhel-, paani-, sev- and miscellaneous puris… no sooner had we sat down, we heard a voice… “Sir chilled beer laaoon kya?”… “saste mein milega”… well… we had had our share of drinks at lunch, and the beach was so dirty that a drink would not have been too enjoyable… plus there was a paunchy cop doing the rounds, and since we didn’t want to give him any more Diwali bonus, we ignored the beer vendor…
We asked him if he could fetch us some chai… got some good gyaan from him instead… “Mard ko chai nahi peena chahiye”… well, to each his own… and I thought chai was good for health...
We returned from that beach, disappointed at the day… it was not too special… we also visited the Nani Daman fort… it is nuthin but 2 stone walls masquerading as a fort… and thus ended a day of roaming around… btw, we did sign off with half a bottle of Signature premium… ah, the day was not too bad after all…
(Coming Up: Day 2 of Daman... in the next post)
This is almost a travelogue… basically, a way of boasting to the world that while you were scooped up in your home doing pooja and eating sweets, I got to go on a trip to Daman, and chill out.
We take off for Daman on Diwali morning… train journey of three hours was fairly uneventful except that we had to travel standing… (the typical MBA habit of JIT tickets did us in)
We reach Vapi and take off for Daman in a shared taxi. Like most small towns in India, the taxi driver firmly believes that taking the legal limit of 4 passengers is safe, but then, he has also learnt that fundamental principle of finance – There is no return without risk. So, he loads six people in the taxi – 4 at the back and two in the front… but we don’t mind as long as we get to our places… cheap but alive!
We book a room… fairly economical at 100 bucks a head… I’m already beginning to like this ‘budget’ holiday… I also indulge in my favourite pastime of reading Indian signboards in small towns… I had already noticed two in no time… The hotel has a board which proclaims “OUTSIDE FOOD AND DRINKS NOT ALOUD”. I hope it means we can bring daaru from the neighbouring shop as long as we do it silently…
A nearby shoe shop proclaims “New Stoke Sale”… I just luvvv the Gujarati pronunciation… Imagine having ‘snakes’ for breakfast…
A friend had advised us to visit Dadra and Nagar Haveli first… so, we traverse back to Vapi in another taxi… similar manner, similar rate…
Vapi to Dadra in a rickshaw… this time, 4 passengers in the rick… I get the privilege of sitting in the front seat… fairly uneventful journey… We reach Dadra Garden… typical sarkari maintained garden… sleepy and boring… the only things that moved were the ducks roaming around… not even lovey-dovey couples necking each other like in Ooty… btw, one more addition to the funny words collection… the fast food centre in the garden serves “Masroom soup”…
We take a rick to Silvassa… and the driver, seeing four clueless tourists, realizes that he has got his Diwali bonus after all… he promises to take us to all the tourist attractions in Silvassa for 300 bucks wonly… after some typical Indian bargaining (we start at 200 and move up, he starts at 300 and moves down), we end up at a mutually agreeable 250 bucks… even though he might still be fleecing us, we feel good because we had ‘bargained’…
He takes us to the ‘Lion Safari’… an artificial sanctuary… the outside office looks real cool… bamboo building, really admirable… there is a sign-board of a ferocious looking lion… we pose happily with that sign-board, without realizing that this was as close as we could get to a lion… well, the entry fee to the Safari is 25 bucks (“Rs. 100 for non-Indian tourists”… even the Government fleeces the unsuspecting foreigners, so why blame the tourist guides and taxi drivers??). We are taken in a caged Maruti Gypsy, and driven around… it feels like an adventure but it is post noon and the lions seem to be enjoying a siesta… (so what if you paid 25 bucks a head, the lion is only interested in four legged creatures it seems)… finally, we spot a lion and a lioness sitting under a shady tree… seems like they had just watched “Pyaar ke side effects” as they were sitting facing away from each other… the chance of additions to the lion family there seems remote… btw, we just learnt that the sanctuary houses a grand total of TWO animals… the ones we just saw… since we had seen 100% of what the sanctuary offered, it was time to go…
The driver of the vehicle is apparently influenced by Mark Twain’s advice of brevity… when we ask him “Sher ko khana kya dete ho?”… he replies, “Maans”… ooh, and I thought lions were vegetarians!!!
We then visit a dam… nuthin eventful about this one too except some half naked kids jumping about in the water… these kids actallu jump off from the high bridge into the water some 15 feet below… I wonder why they don’t train these bacchas for the Olympics…
From the dam, we return to Silvassa for a visit to the museum… Again, a typical sarkari maintained museum… sleepy, silent and empty… no guides, poor lighting, objects of some tribes arbitrarily placed… with some obscure write ups ( I really think I could spice up those)… absolutely not recommended unless you are interested in tribal history…
From the museum to a leisurely lunch, with beer… and then back to Vapi, and then to Daman… a visit to the Nani Daman beach… the sand was not fine, more gravel type… the beach was poorly lit (blame the Diwali Amavasya too)… and as we were incredibly lucky, the water was far away due to low tide (stupid Amavasya again)… well, this beach too was crowded with vendors selling all ‘snake’ items… the bhel-, paani-, sev- and miscellaneous puris… no sooner had we sat down, we heard a voice… “Sir chilled beer laaoon kya?”… “saste mein milega”… well… we had had our share of drinks at lunch, and the beach was so dirty that a drink would not have been too enjoyable… plus there was a paunchy cop doing the rounds, and since we didn’t want to give him any more Diwali bonus, we ignored the beer vendor…
We asked him if he could fetch us some chai… got some good gyaan from him instead… “Mard ko chai nahi peena chahiye”… well, to each his own… and I thought chai was good for health...
We returned from that beach, disappointed at the day… it was not too special… we also visited the Nani Daman fort… it is nuthin but 2 stone walls masquerading as a fort… and thus ended a day of roaming around… btw, we did sign off with half a bottle of Signature premium… ah, the day was not too bad after all…
(Coming Up: Day 2 of Daman... in the next post)
Oct 6, 2006
'First Class' Travel in Mumbai !!!
Statutory Warning: Contains explicit language. (Or is it expletive language???)
************************************************************************************
When I first came to Mumbai eight years ago, I travelled by second class local train even though I was eligible for student concession and could have managed a first class season ticket. The experience was enough to make me swear that I would never travel by public transport, if I had a choice. Somehow, at that time, the first class compartments seemed a ‘class’ apart… lesser crowds, cushioned seats, better dressed people (???)…
Nowadays, even though I am not taking any ‘student concession’, I bought a first class pass when I had to travel. Suddenly, the ‘first class’ thing doesn’t seem as glamorous after all. Maybe, because they let me travel in it, but then…
A few days back, I witnessed a first class fight…
Place: Andheri Station
Time: 8.28 am (That is the starting time of the Andheri local… People outside Mumbai, pls note that Mumbaikars are used to be ‘that’ specific when it comes to train timings!!!)
Setting: First Class Gents’ compartment
Cast:
One well dressed ‘gentleman’ wanting to get out of the train, as it slows down at the station.
Another equally well dressed ‘gentleman’ wanting to get into the train, at precisely the same time.
Yours truly (not as well dressed as above).
About 30-40 other gentlemen who were also spectators.
Story:
As expected, the gentleman getting down and the gentleman getting in forgot one elementary fact – that only one person can occupy a given space at a time. So, it lead to another elementary situation - both collided as they tried to push each other out of the way. Since I was new to first class etiquette, I half expected each to apologize and move on (happens half the time in second class actually, since people know that colliding into each other in Mumbai locals is as common as the air we breathe).
But, no, here were two ‘gentlemen’ who were presumably used to getting their way in life all the time. So, an interesting dialogue started… (reproduced verbatim… pls excuse the language, it is theirs)
(We’ll call them GM1 (getting out guy) and GM2 (getting in guy))
GM1: You bastard! Get out my way. Don’t you know that people have to first get OUT before you get IN.
GM2: Who are you calling bastard, bastard?? You are a bastard. What were doing all this while? Waiting for the red carpet to be rolled out for you?
GM1: (grabbing the other person’s tie… I told you they were well dressed) Hey bastard, fucker, who do you think you are?
GM2: Hellooo, don’t keep using foul language? You are a bastard. Your whole family are bastards.
GM1: (finally realizing that he has to go out after all, and staying in the train is not achieving his purpose) Go to hell, bastard! I don’t know how they allow such people in first class?
GM2: Yeah, the same way they allowed you, you cheap bastard. In fact, they should throw you out of second class too.
Exit GM1 into the all consuming crowds, while GM2 settles down… the fight has ensured that he has not got any seat, leave alone the coveted ‘window seat’ for which he was rushing in (which was the reason for the fight, btw).
He looks around to see all the other first class gentlemen staring at him in disgust, as if he were some disgusting creep who should have been eliminated like bacteria in their toilets. I was sure he was feeling bad, maybe about the fight, but definitely about the stares being thrown in his directions like daggers.
Suddenly, his eyes met mine; and I gave him a smile – a genuine “I-can-understand-what-you-are-feeling” smile… and he turned away… and we went our separate ways (in the same train though)…
And my mind went into flashback mode…
I was reminded of the innumerable ‘fights’ that I was fortunate enough to witness all those years when I travelled by ‘Second class’…
Situation is similar, only more crowded… and the ‘gentlemen’ in the story are not very well dressed…
GM1: Aye hero, hat na… raste mein kaiko khada hai? Aadmi utherega tab tu chadega na… (I always wondered why people addressed each other as ‘Hero’… I mean u would call someone a ‘villain’ if you wanted to abuse him)
GM2: oye… awaaz kaiko kar rahele… itna der kya taare gin raha tha? Saala, darwaaze pe khade khade item ka sapna dekh rahela…
GM1: (grabbing the other person’s shirt) aye gaaaandu… gaali nahi deneka kya… apun ko bhi gaali aati hai…
GM2: abe madarchod… haath lagata tu… taang thodke haath mein pakda doonga… saale chutiye… aukad mein rehneka kya…
GM1: abe shaane… kisko madarchod bola re? tu madarchod… tera baap madarchod… tera poora khandaan madarchod… tu mil mereko kal… tapka daaloonga saala… (and out he goes… into the maddening crowd…)
GM2 gets in… and as expected cannot get a seat… the only difference is that the fellow spectators are not giving him dirty disgusting looks… in fact, a few of them joke around saying they have got their daily dose of entertainment (“aaj ka timepass ho gaya boss…”)
GM2 looks around… am not sure whether he is feeling bad or not… his face is expressionless… Our eyes meet… I give him a genuine “jaane-de-yaar-pagal-aadmi-tha-woh” kinda smile… the only difference is that he doesn’t turn his face away – he smiles back…
Somehow, I feel that second class travelers are more human… they don’t put on fake accents and try to curse each other in the Queen’s language (which I have found is as useful for cursing as a comb is to a bald guy). And in spite of their fights, they still treat each other as human beings, not as ‘toilet bacteria’.
PS:
You are traveling in a second class compartment. Someone actually stands on your toes. You try to make some room for yourself. There isn’t any. You politely ask the guy stomping your feet to move a millimeter. And that is when he utters the worst insult a second class traveler can throw at someone… he says, “aye chikne, dhakka nahi khaneka toh first class mein jaana!!!”
************************************************************************************
When I first came to Mumbai eight years ago, I travelled by second class local train even though I was eligible for student concession and could have managed a first class season ticket. The experience was enough to make me swear that I would never travel by public transport, if I had a choice. Somehow, at that time, the first class compartments seemed a ‘class’ apart… lesser crowds, cushioned seats, better dressed people (???)…
Nowadays, even though I am not taking any ‘student concession’, I bought a first class pass when I had to travel. Suddenly, the ‘first class’ thing doesn’t seem as glamorous after all. Maybe, because they let me travel in it, but then…
A few days back, I witnessed a first class fight…
Place: Andheri Station
Time: 8.28 am (That is the starting time of the Andheri local… People outside Mumbai, pls note that Mumbaikars are used to be ‘that’ specific when it comes to train timings!!!)
Setting: First Class Gents’ compartment
Cast:
One well dressed ‘gentleman’ wanting to get out of the train, as it slows down at the station.
Another equally well dressed ‘gentleman’ wanting to get into the train, at precisely the same time.
Yours truly (not as well dressed as above).
About 30-40 other gentlemen who were also spectators.
Story:
As expected, the gentleman getting down and the gentleman getting in forgot one elementary fact – that only one person can occupy a given space at a time. So, it lead to another elementary situation - both collided as they tried to push each other out of the way. Since I was new to first class etiquette, I half expected each to apologize and move on (happens half the time in second class actually, since people know that colliding into each other in Mumbai locals is as common as the air we breathe).
But, no, here were two ‘gentlemen’ who were presumably used to getting their way in life all the time. So, an interesting dialogue started… (reproduced verbatim… pls excuse the language, it is theirs)
(We’ll call them GM1 (getting out guy) and GM2 (getting in guy))
GM1: You bastard! Get out my way. Don’t you know that people have to first get OUT before you get IN.
GM2: Who are you calling bastard, bastard?? You are a bastard. What were doing all this while? Waiting for the red carpet to be rolled out for you?
GM1: (grabbing the other person’s tie… I told you they were well dressed) Hey bastard, fucker, who do you think you are?
GM2: Hellooo, don’t keep using foul language? You are a bastard. Your whole family are bastards.
GM1: (finally realizing that he has to go out after all, and staying in the train is not achieving his purpose) Go to hell, bastard! I don’t know how they allow such people in first class?
GM2: Yeah, the same way they allowed you, you cheap bastard. In fact, they should throw you out of second class too.
Exit GM1 into the all consuming crowds, while GM2 settles down… the fight has ensured that he has not got any seat, leave alone the coveted ‘window seat’ for which he was rushing in (which was the reason for the fight, btw).
He looks around to see all the other first class gentlemen staring at him in disgust, as if he were some disgusting creep who should have been eliminated like bacteria in their toilets. I was sure he was feeling bad, maybe about the fight, but definitely about the stares being thrown in his directions like daggers.
Suddenly, his eyes met mine; and I gave him a smile – a genuine “I-can-understand-what-you-are-feeling” smile… and he turned away… and we went our separate ways (in the same train though)…
And my mind went into flashback mode…
I was reminded of the innumerable ‘fights’ that I was fortunate enough to witness all those years when I travelled by ‘Second class’…
Situation is similar, only more crowded… and the ‘gentlemen’ in the story are not very well dressed…
GM1: Aye hero, hat na… raste mein kaiko khada hai? Aadmi utherega tab tu chadega na… (I always wondered why people addressed each other as ‘Hero’… I mean u would call someone a ‘villain’ if you wanted to abuse him)
GM2: oye… awaaz kaiko kar rahele… itna der kya taare gin raha tha? Saala, darwaaze pe khade khade item ka sapna dekh rahela…
GM1: (grabbing the other person’s shirt) aye gaaaandu… gaali nahi deneka kya… apun ko bhi gaali aati hai…
GM2: abe madarchod… haath lagata tu… taang thodke haath mein pakda doonga… saale chutiye… aukad mein rehneka kya…
GM1: abe shaane… kisko madarchod bola re? tu madarchod… tera baap madarchod… tera poora khandaan madarchod… tu mil mereko kal… tapka daaloonga saala… (and out he goes… into the maddening crowd…)
GM2 gets in… and as expected cannot get a seat… the only difference is that the fellow spectators are not giving him dirty disgusting looks… in fact, a few of them joke around saying they have got their daily dose of entertainment (“aaj ka timepass ho gaya boss…”)
GM2 looks around… am not sure whether he is feeling bad or not… his face is expressionless… Our eyes meet… I give him a genuine “jaane-de-yaar-pagal-aadmi-tha-woh” kinda smile… the only difference is that he doesn’t turn his face away – he smiles back…
Somehow, I feel that second class travelers are more human… they don’t put on fake accents and try to curse each other in the Queen’s language (which I have found is as useful for cursing as a comb is to a bald guy). And in spite of their fights, they still treat each other as human beings, not as ‘toilet bacteria’.
PS:
You are traveling in a second class compartment. Someone actually stands on your toes. You try to make some room for yourself. There isn’t any. You politely ask the guy stomping your feet to move a millimeter. And that is when he utters the worst insult a second class traveler can throw at someone… he says, “aye chikne, dhakka nahi khaneka toh first class mein jaana!!!”
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