Update on Dizwell

For those of us who woke up late...Dizwell.com is back and doing fine!! Hurrah!! However, the treatment of the site is very different from what it used to be. [ Honestly speaking, I liked the old site better ]. Whatever reasons resulted in this new format, the new format is welcome. I'm just glad that the site that taught me a lot about Oracle is back. Just check http://www.dizwell.com. This is what I would like to say to the website owner:

Sir,

If you ever chance to visit this blog, I would like to say -- Thank you for opening the site again. To me your earlier site was like a library that I could walk into, pickup an article and take notes. I have done this quite often. Though the new format does not seem to host the older articles, I find the new articles like Automatically emailing Excel spreadsheets from Oracle insightful.

I just hope that you would again, someday, post the older articles in some section of your website.

The engine that pushes

This is first of a two part series on a trip to Ooty (Udhagamandalam) in Tamil Nadu.

From my place to the Satellite bus stand is going over to another corner of the city. My bus broke down in the middle of nowhere after starting from Shivaji Nagar bus stand. On top of it, we [Mother and I] had boarded the wrong bus!! The bus conductor, however, was the best I have ever met. Had it not been for his presence of mind the Ooty trip might not as well have happened. He stopped a bus passing by and requested the driver to drop us at a particular signal [he didn't give us the name of the signal]. From the signal we finally [after over 45 mins since the bus broke down] got an autorickshaw.

Poor Vish was in as much jitters as we were. I kept praying that other members of our team should not have to suffer on my account and requested Vish to carry on if we did not make it on time to the bus stand. But we did!! :-) Just 5 mins before the bus was to leave we reached. Vish had the presence of mind [everyone except me seems to have had tons of it!!] to get coupons for two cups of coffee for Mamma and I [We so badly needed that coffee!! Thank you Vish]. All of us boarded the bus and settled in.


Coimbatur

The stopover in Coimbatur was a very short one. We just walked over to the central bus stand to catch the bus for Mettupalayam. There are buses to Mettupalayam every 5 to 10 mins. The buses are in decent condition and the bus driver and conductor were very helpful people. The journey was completed in 1 hour 30 mins. It was some festival that day and lots of women dressed in red saree were seen everywhere. But they got down much before Mettupalayam.


Mettupalayam

From Mettupalayam bus stand to the railway station is a 5 mins walk. You just follow the straight road. Sights and smells of the morning could be seen and felt everywhere.

Our tickets were still waitlisted. We pleaded that we be let in the train. After all we had come to Mettupalayam for the Toy Train experience. The railway police and the guard were very helpful. They suggested that we wait for sometime till the other passengers are all seated. After a 15 [ loooooooooooong ] minute wait they suggested they can accomodate us but it would be in the compartment right next to the engine. Which is just what we wanted!! We couldn't wait to see the smoke billowing out of the engine and hear the whistle of the engine and of course all the whoosh that goes with it!!! A British couple were already seated in the compartment [ we later found that they had come packed for a long trek in Ooty ].

The engine that pushes the train

This is the engine that pushes the train! As most of the journey is uphill the engine is situated at the end of the train instead of the usual front of the train. The rythemic khat-khata-khat--khat-khata-khat--khat-khata-khat is mesmerising. Starting at 7:00 a.m. from Mettupalayam, the train reaches Ooty around 12:00 p.m. The cost of 8 people for a 5 hour [one of a lifetime journeys ride] works out to a whopping Rs.264!!!! [Yes, that is right ;-) ].

The "Toy Train" [as the Nilgiri Passenger is fondly known] stops every 45 mins to fill water for the steam engine. We had started clicking in the moving train. Some of the photos are proof to that :-) Every time the train stopped people came out and started taking photos. Often times, we had to be chided into the train by the guard who threatened smilingly he would leave us there if we did not scoot for the train. Half-heartely we moved into the train and started clicking rightaway!!

Twice the train stops near a bridge. Once, there is a brook flowing down below. The scenery here is amazing. Very dramatic. Our British couple decided to get some romantic advantage of the surroundings [ That which we Indians are willing to see in a movie, we are not ready to see in real life!! ].

There are hills, brooks, flowers, trees growing in the strangest of manners, bridges, tunnels and tons of smoke all through the way!! It is a journey of a life time. Don't miss it. Whatever your age do take the toy train once. Experience the ethereal moments that cannot be explained in words. The moments have to be felt, lived.


Toy train Bio-data




Till the moment we touched Ooty it was heaven... and then we were thrust down on earth to face the brutalities of a popular hill station.

Mothers of sons

Headlines proclaimed -- Mumbai terror ends. I had thought once this gets over I will be more composed and will be able to put my thoughts in proper order. I had thought words will come out more naturally, easily.

So I decided to wait till the terrorists were rounded up. The day came and the wait got over.

But the terror just does not end. Television and the internet have been blaring the gory details. Children crying having lost parents, parents crying having lost children.

That moved me to other thoughts. What about the mothers of the boys [they were between 21 and 25] who held seige in Mumbai landmarks. Do these women cry on losing their sons? Do these women know where their sons are going to [and what for in the first place?]?

Is it money or religion or something else that prompts these women to not object. Why do these women not pull back their sons and save them from a fate that is not taking them to either life or glory.

Are these mothers of 21 year olds not mature enough to know that their sons are leaving home never to return again. It can't be poverty. That can be taken care of in other ways. Is it religion. Can a religion make a mother so insensitive as to look the other way when her son leaves never to return. Does not seem like that. Mothers don't have religions.

It is just plain a terror that will not end. But more so for the mother who knowingly sent her son never to return.

P.S.: Apologies if my thoughts are not coherent.

A very common cold

After a lovely trip to Coorg, I was hoping to write about its beauty and the time I had enjoyed [that will be the next post]. Instead I'm forced to write about the cold I've caught!!

I know, I don't really have to write about the not-so-uncommon common cold. But what can I do - kismat! Even my boss gives me the you-poor-thing,-you-are-so-done-for looks. [I've managed to contribute the germs to a poor colleague sitting in the US of A. All that the poor soul did was attend the same conference call with me and look what has happened to her].

Everyone is very kind, sympathetic. Cold makes everyone bring out their favourite remedies. "Take some ginger and add honey to it" [my fav actually, tastes good]. "Take about four cloves, put them in boiling water and catch the steam [catch steam ?!!]". "Put 3 or 4 leaves of tulsi in your tea" [tastes good too]. "Gargle with hot water and put some salt into it."

Then there are any number of medicines available in the market. The television advices me to take at least half-a-dozen different ones in a span of 3 mins.

The point here is that people who wouldn't give me a nod on an ordinary day give me recipes, advice and looks that make me feel like I've caught the common cold for the first time in my life. And this happens every time :-)

Fragrances of the day

We can capture sounds and sights of nature... my biggest grouse is that I can't capture smells. Just walking down a road in this heat and cursing the sun, humidity [or lack thereof!], pollution, politics... and then, then you stop because between all of this a very divine smell just caught your attention! The flower that was the cause for this sweet smell [which in turn caused you to stop cursing] is normally a simple off-white or pink 4-5 petalled creation of the almighty.

Hanging from a tree, it just looks at you innocently. The fruits around it could be any size, shape or colour. Time evaporates, sun melts, humidity is of no consequence and, by the way, what is politics!! Pollution will have to wait because a flower just bloomed and spread its fragrance. That moment the meaning of the word "divine" becomes clear.

You can photograph the flower. You can [if you had very good devices for doing so] perhaps capture the very subtle sound the flower must make when blooming. But what shall we do about the fragrance. The helplessness of it hurts. I can experience it but not capture it. No perfume factories/designers can work this magic. It solely rests with the flower.

The occassional maramalligai [Literally translated, tree jasmine. The stem is long and the petals are off-white and smells just like jasmine just subtler.], champa [Also called champangi. Don't know the English word for it] and many more. Tons of other flower trees line the roads of B'lore.

Throughout the year, and especially this time of the year, some or the other tree is in bloom providing people like me some respite.

Only, if some scientist could come up with a contraption that would allow me to capture smells like that. I would love to show off a few, maybe even upload to this blog :-)

Heaven in small pieces

I've always thought of Lal Bagh in that way. Tall stately trees; birds and squirrels chirping all day; people taking an easy stroll. There's no hurry in this bubble of time; no agitation. Life moves on at it's own sweet pace. The roads inside Lal Bagh are wider than many places in the Bangalore city adding to its many attractions [:-)].

With 240 acres of parks and a lake Lal Bagh is just the right place to visit if you want to take a very long stroll on an evening.

Lal Bagh is also a favourite with people who have gardens. It is nestles a huge nursery. Many a times I visit LB just for walking through the nursery. The variety of plants is amazing. Add to it the down-to-earth prices!! Someday I hope to have a garden to plant any and every tree I want. And I know where I can get them :-).

The lake in LB is also beautiful. Ducks, monkeys and lilies [and I'm sure there are fish, for you can't have ducks without them] abound in and around the lake. The fringe of the lake is adorned with coconut palms. When clouds reflect in the lake waters it makes a lovely scene to admire with your loved ones [I had my parents with me :-)].

Twice a year LB hosts flower shows [I've not been lucky enough to go to one of these]. But I was lucky enough to be at the Mango Festival last summer [and looking forward to this year's festival]. Mangoes from all over the country pay a visit and enthrall people. I believe I have seen quite a few varieties of mangoes but what I saw at the festival was beyond words.

I saw people buying mangoes in dozens of kilos. I'm sure those mangoes would have travelled across the country!! Considering the prices at which you could get some of the rarer mango varieties no one can resist buying like that.

There is so much more to LB which I cannot cover in one post and hence, will defer till later. Perhaps, in the meanwhile more knowledgeable people will share their views by commenting in this post.

Cubbon Park

Last weekend my buddy Vish and I went to Cubbon park to photograph the park. And this time I will not talk but let the photos do the job :-) [Sandy, this one is specially for you]