Moving cities with a cat

We recently moved to Bangalore from Mumbai with our two-year-old cat A. It has been fun and we have a few people to thank for that.

The Indian Railways allows passengers to take pets in the First Class compartment. Which is a good thing because pets need their space and become awfully crabby in confined spaces like cages. The sudden exposure to new sounds and sights is too traumatic for them.

Transporting pets by air is possible. We know someone who successfully moved her three cats from Mumbai to Dubai, of course it cost her a bomb. There have also been cases of pets dying in the cargo. Only Air India allows pets inside the cabin but the final word still rests with the pilot. We lost a cat last year and weren’t prepared to take the risk. Trains seemed like the only other option. A friend sweetly offered to drive us down in his car but that would have been traumatising for him as well.

We booked two First Class AC ticket on the Udyan Express online on the IRCTC website and selected ‘Coupe’ in the drop-down menu to select seat preference. We read somewhere that it helps if you write a letter to the Railways telling them why you need a coupe. So we wrote a letter, took a print, attached a copy of our ticket and showed it to the Chief Reservation Manager at CST, Mumbai. She read it patiently and asked me to drop a copy of it at the Chief Commercial Manager’s office one day before the date of journey. (The Commercial Manager sits in the building at the Masjid end of Platform no. 1 along with the Materials and Accounts offices). There was a slot in his door into which requests are supposed to be dropped, post box style.

Something the Chief Reservation Manager said still haunted us though. ‘If there is no VVIP travelling at that time, you’ll get your coupe.’ A certain blog also mentioned that the TC can ‘arrange’ a coupe for you even after the charts were made if you only ‘gift’ him. Thanks to this, we were only partially relieved when an SMS appraised us of a coupe reservation.

A mewed her head off in the cab to the station. Once there, the noise of the trains and announcements pushed her to the very back of her carriage. She didn’t mew much but we could see her heart beat furiously. Her goggled eyes looked around in all directions. We couldn’t wait to get her into the quiet of the train.

Once inside, she stayed under the seat for about 6 hours. Only. After that, she wanted to be everywhere. We had read that pets don’t eat or poop when travelling. But we’d carried some treats which A readily had once she was comfortable with the space. Also drank water and use the litter once or twice. So relieved! 

Many thanks to Kaustubh Srikanth and Malika Bhavnani for taking time to write detailed mails about travelling with pets. Thanks to the awesome Clyde Nunes for offering to drive us down if we didn't get the coupe. Avantika Kapur, A loves the carriage, thank you! Varun Joshua, if you didn't let us bring A to your place, didn't know what we would've done! And of course, thanks to the Indian Railways for making A's first big journey comfortable!

Enjoy the pictures!

Best fifteen rupees spent ever!

The most amazing thing just happened!

If you call me on my number right now, you’ll hear a splendid old song - the title track of the Kishor Kumar 1961 classic Jhumroo.

I got a call from someone. Here’s how it went:

Hello sir, mein Sriram Finance se bol raha hoon. (Hello Sir, I'm calling from Sriram Finance.)

Ok.

Aapko koi loan ki requirement hai? (Do you have a loan requirement?)

Nahi. (No)

Accha theek hai sir, no problem. (Alright, no problem).

I was about to hang up when he said something that made my day.

Aapka caller tune sun-na tha. Mein waapus phone kar raha hoon. Aap receive mat kijiye. (I wanted to hear your caller tune. I'm calling you again, don't receive it please).

How I laughed when I hung up.

His call is lighting up my phone in silence mode right now!

How I got my first pauti

Ta da!

I got my first pauti* last Saturday. (*pauti – receipt in Marathi – slang term for the receipt you get when you pay the fine for a traffic violation.)

On my way back from the first free servicing of my new Honda Activa, I rode out of a one-way street into the waiting clutches of a constable who immediately seized my licence to ride. He asked more questions than all my interviewers in the past. He wanted to know if I had all the papers, who owned the vehicle, where I stayed, why then my licence said ‘Ambarnath’ and so on…all in an authoritarian tone, I think, they teach you in cop school. He wrote all of this down meticulously in Marathi in his tiny notebook.

I have always been terrified of landing into one of these soups. I was trying to be cool and all that. The mention of ‘Ambarnath’ had a kind of effect on him I wasn’t expecting. He looked like he knew the place. Apparently he used to visit the place often, since he used to live in Vithalwadi. I used to live in Vithalwadi too, I tell him. Where? He inquires and then proceeds to tell me where his house was. Genuinely surprised, I let him know that we might have been neighbours decades ago.

Fifteen minutes have passed in this unlikely catch-up. He asks me if I know where the Chembur Police Station is. That’s where I must go to pay the fine to release my licence and get the receipt. I told him I had no idea where his office is. He said he’ll accompany me there so I could pay the fine. But then he’ll have to vacate his spot. The solution is to call the beat marshals doing the rounds in the area and ask them to accompany me.

While we wait for the, this guy must be wondering why I’m not in a hurry at all for he says to himself, “Aapko chhuti hoyega Saturday Sunday.” I nod. “Aapko late ho raha hai toh aap jao. Mereko fine de do. Main bhar dega.” I ask if I can then collect the receipt from the police station later. He looks me in the eye and pauses for a few seconds and calls the beat marshals again, telling them that they must be motherfuckers to be keeping him waiting for so long.

Soon enough, they arrive. But they don’t want to accompany a no-entry guy to a police station. Too measly. It is decided that the cop who caught me will accompany me riding pillion while the beat cops will stand in his spot. I relent.

On the way to the police station (riding against the traffic with my upper and dipper alternating and me beeping) he tells me Chheda Nagar is full of ‘tumhaare log’ meaning ‘your people’. I think he means south Indians. ‘South ka log gentleman hota hai,’ he observes. I immediately seize the opportunity to picture myself in a 3-piece suit.

Thankfully, I haven’t had the need to visit a police station. I’d been pally with the cops at Ambarnath Police Station because I would frequent it to plant trees for them. This was to be my first tryst with Mumbai Police. I saw a few Singham types (lean and built, with moustaches they seemed proud to sport) and a few who looked like they were imitating Ashok Saraf playing a constable. A cop in uniform was hanging up his regular clothes he had just arrived in. While I was being charged Rs. 200 for riding into a no-entry street, I was amused at how a cop station was nothing but an office – a workplace for these hardworking people. The inspector who was writing my receipt seemed a wee bit annoyed that the constable had brought me right when he was planning to leave for home. That explains why my name on the receipt looks like it plans to escape from the paper.

Licence retrieved and fine paid, the constable hops back on my vehicle. As promised, I am to drop him off at his spot.

‘Sorry haan, mein aapko pakda,’ he says.

I am amused. I tell him he’s just doing his job and wonder aloud as to why he was being apologetic for it.

‘Nahi mereko maloom nahi tha aap gentleman hai,’ he says.

I laugh, awkward at what that is supposed to mean.

He then proceeds to explain that he couldn’t have torn my details from his notebook because then his seniors will find out about it and cause a scene. Apparently every page in a traffic cop’s notebook is accounted for.

I drop him off at his spot and we shake hands dramatically.

And that, kids, is the story of how I got my first pauti.

RIDING IN MUMBAI TRAFFIC – DAY 1

The wife and I rode to work for the first time today. Yes, we are now the people who fall under the demographic of Sec A+, 18-30, M/F, double income group, who live in a rented flat but own a two-wheeler. With help from the parents, we got ourselves a Honda Activa – a highly recommended and popular choice for young urban couples.

I thought I would enjoy the ride to work and back but today’s ride was a nerve-wracking experience. Before this, my only riding experience in Mumbai city has been on bicycles. I’ve ridden the Activa before but that was only a short distance, that too between Ulhasnagar and Ambarnath.

To begin with, I am not used to the idea of the big helmet. This heavy object feels like it will take my head and roll away. It also constricts your vision considerably. But what is a little discomfort if it saves your head from becoming a cracked watermelon?

I realized that I was being ultra-super-aware of everything around me. I was constantly monitoring both rear-view mirrors, keeping an eye on the speedometer, looking at the road to avoid potholes and looking at the closest vehicle up ahead trying to keep a safe distance from it.

My back would constantly heave from the bounce of the new purring machine under me. My shoulders would pass on their stiffness to my arms causing me to stretch them every few kilometers. My eyes began to hurt from the extra focus.

All my nerves felt like they belonged to a bomb-squad personnel who was wondering whether to cut the red wire or the blue wire. I was making crucial decisions at every step. Do I overtake this bus or do I just follow it? Do I take this bridge or not? Taking the aisle between cars and the wall of the bridge was the scariest part of today’s journey.  All the time I eked out of the narrow space tackling rear-view mirror hi-fives, I kept thinking, “what if one of the cars decided to swerve left and nudged us off the bridge?” It is a terrifying thought. It is still alright if you are a solo rider but you feel doubly responsible with family riding pillion.

Riding back home was comparatively funner. Mostly because the cold December wind is pleasant and there was no sun. We left work late and found less traffic. I even sang aloud to myself. I don’t know if the wife heard me though.

I am going to miss the lack of focus I could afford while travelling in a cab but I think I can get used to this.

I also learnt a few things today.

Jaywalkers will only understand what they are doing wrong when they become motorists themselves. I almost told a guy to use the footpath today. You suddenly feel like you own the road you are riding on and anyone coming between you and your road is a ‘stupid idiot who doesn’t know where he is going’. What an interesting turn of events for someone who has been a jaywalking pedestrian all this while!

Being a cyclist, I know not to rush cyclists if they hold me up. If I wait a few seconds, I can overtake them easily without bothering them. I’ve also decided to not honk until it is highly necessary.

I plan to be a good motorist, someone who waits for the lights to turn green before zooming away and someone who stops before the zebra crossing. I got told off by a biker already for doing that already. He said, “Tu jaao nakos…mala tari javoo de!” (You don’t go, at least let me go).

We ride between Chembur and Parel (Elphinstone also). Is there something we should watch out for? Something I should do or not do? Tips welcome.

IF YOU ARE A MALAYALI, YOU NEED TO SEE DRISHYAM

My head throbs from the blood rushing to it right now. It will probably give me a nasty headache at work tomorrow, tired for want of more sleep but I can’t not write this now. A film that had you rooted to your seat should get the praise it deserves. That’s the least a writer can do.

It is 2.15 am. I just finished watching Jeethu Joseph’s masterpiece called Drishyam and I am mind-blown.

The first half of the film is slow. No, call it draggy. Like chewing gum that has been in your mouth longer than you would prefer. I complained to my wife about the slow pace and the unreal, saccharine-sweet dialogues the protagonist Mohanlal and his wife shared.

Little did I know that this pace and tone was not only intentional but also meant to be the calm before the storm that the second half was going to be!

When the central plot of the story kicks in, the film develops automatic seatbelts and binds you. I was stuck to the floor as I watched it on my laptop (from an original DVD). I couldn’t pry my eyes off the screen as Lalettan masterminded the most brilliant game of chor-police I have ever seen.  

The Wikipedia page for the film modestly calls it a drama-thriller. The film is so much more! It is a fitting tribute to the world of cinema in general. It shows an illiterate but smart person who learns the ways of life from the number of films he consumes…no, devours every day…and often every night. His thoughts are from his movies, so is the voice in his head. His brain concocts devious plans based on learnings from all these films…all to protect his family from every danger he can foresee.

Director Jeethu Joseph has managed to eke out stellar performances from all his cast members. I am sure the crew was at its creative best too when they worked on this project. You will appreciate their hard work once you see the graph of your own opinion of the film go from base level to boss level.

I recommend Drishyam to you. I would love to spoil it for you but I won’t because I want you to experience this awesomeness by yourself. I will await your reviews and will wait to know if like me, your jaws dropped too when you realized why the construction of the new police station was so integral to the story.

Meanwhile, Mr. Joseph, you have a new fan.

Love for Clay

I discovered claymation with Taare Zameen Par’s dazzling claymation titling. Enamoured by it, I wanted to study under the man who had made it - Dhimant Vyas. While that did not materialize, I decided to make myself a clay selfie. It wasn’t too bad except that I looked inflicted by some serious skin and bone disease.

In college, I took a clay snake on a trek to Tungareshwar.

More of Saamp here - http://on.fb.me/1gVCjVz

Recently, Anthony had taken up a commercial project – a bunch of claymation films to promote a VoiP brand. Forever interested in claymation, I turned up at the set just for fun. I watched them shoot, ate free food and played with the leftover clay. I got to see tools that professional clay modellers use – nothing fancy but highly functional.

Spending time pressing the soft dough and watching the clay figures become the Shahrukh Khan and Madhuri Dixit of Anthony’s film one still at a time inspired me to start playing with clay regularly.

I set up a page called ‘A Lump of Clay’ with a seemingly philosophical bio that reads – ‘The world is changing and so is this lump of clay’. Every day, the lump becomes something new.

I started with a dice and went on to do some more. Do tell me what you think. See the rest on the Facebook page - https://www.facebook.com/alumpofclay 

The Lump of Clay

                                      

Shakuni's best friend

Thinking of the grandfather of claymation - Pingu

About time we made our bones

Pheess

When you become old, your kids don’t talk to you much. Even your body stops listening to you.

Be nice to old people. 
They’ll appreciate it.

The Great Indian PM Shopping Festival came to an end today!

I got disappointment. What did you get?

Use this straw to have some thanda thanda paani -http://bit.ly/1qXNFMD

5 films to catch this coming weekend

The last few weekends have been bad for the Bollywood cinema-goer but the coming weekend is making up for it like a boss. I have a feeling both Saturday and Sunday are going to be movie marathons. Here are the 5 films I am looking forward to. I am being nice and sharing links to the trailers. I might go to Mira Road to watch most of them for cheap with Hakim (if he's free). Join us if you are game. This is going to be epic! 

1. Ajoba

Ajoba the leopard was rescued from a well and fitted with a tracking device before being released into the wild. The film covers his adventurous trek from Malshej to Mumbai in 29 days - an amazing 120 kms! 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pZNLbBP6Q0M

 2. Hawaa Hawaai

What looks like a rags to riches story might be one of the most beautiful children's films of all time. After the critically popular Stanley Ka Dabba, father-son duo Amole and Partho Gupte bring you the tale of a young boy who yearns to be a skater.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L8WEqUvoJw4

 3. Kochada...something.

Frankly, I don't know what this is about but I am going to watch it for thalaiva and the awesome animation and SFX it is said to have.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=86R7d7Ny4LA

 4. Mastram

The film is about a reluctant pornographic writer who aspires to be a litterateur, is inspired by the anonymous author of popular pulp fiction and sex stories in Hindi, only known as Mastram. These books sold at railway station stalls and small roadside and pavement shops in North India through the 1980s and 90s. Jaiswal who was the screenwriter for films likeGangs of Wasseypur (2012), makes his directorial debut with the film.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LBBgv0N3Vck

 5. Manjunath - Idiot Tha Saala

This film is based on the story of a man with balls of steel or titanium or something equally strong. Shanmugam Manjunath (1978–2005) was a marketing manager (grade A officer) for the Indian Oil Corporation (IOC) who was murdered for sealing a corrupt petrol station in Lakhimpur Kheri, UP. This incident inspired several students at IIM, IIT and other institutes culminating with the IIM students setting up the "The Manjunath Shanmugam Trust".

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7nPY6O8XDv8

Happy Marathoning!

How to find your name on the voter’s list online

I just found myself on the voter’s list on the ElectionCommission’s website after a random Google search, not expecting to find anything. I ended up finding my ID Card number and the name of my polling station!

If your name already exists on the roll, here’s how you can find yourself on the list.

Step 1: Log on to http://eci.nic.in/

Step 2: Click on ‘Search Your Name In The Voters List’

(Enable pop-ups for this website. My Chrome decided to block it at the first attempt.)

Step 3: You will see a list of states on a page that reads Links to Electors Search on CEO Website. Click on your state. (This will lead you to the website of the Chief Electoral Officer of that state).

Step 4: If you are voting in Maharashtra like I am, you get a Language option – to search in English or to search in Marathi. You also get to search with your Id no. or your name. Once this is done, hit ‘GO’. (I searched in English and by name).

Step 5: Next, you get to customize your search according to ‘Assembly’ or ‘District’. Once you select the assembly/ district, enter your name, surname and father/husband’s name and then pray to find your name after you input the simple captcha code.

This is the toughest part. Expect your name to be horribly misspelt or jumbled. (I thought I was Hari Damodaran Chakyar. Apparently now I am Hari Damodharan Chakar. My mom used to be Girijadevi Damodaran. The website has made her Girijadevi Damodaran Nair. But that is still alright. My wife is a 28 year old male!).

If you do not find your name in the first attempt, try various combinations of your name. Also try changing the search customization options (If you searched by Assembly first, try searching by District next.) 

Nat Geo’s latest campaign is just hilarious!

National Geographic just launched a series of hilarious print ads. All five of them show animals like the grizzly bear, koala bear and a gorilla clicking selfies!

The line simply drives home the message: “There are lots of terrible animal pictures out there. National Geographic Collection. The best nature images are here.”

The ads are the handiwork of Heads Propaganda, Sao Paulo, Brazil.

Here are all of them (via: Ads of the World). Enjoy!

How to make an awesome scratch post for your cats and fail

What you need:

Cardboard/wood or any kind of base.

Rope/string – basically any kind of fibre you think your cats will want to attack (ours go nuts at everything that moves but they have a special bond with string.)

Fevicol or similarly strong adhesive.

Too much patience.

As with every craft project of mine, I sat on the idea way too long. But I finally pushed myself to go get the required materials and sat down to begin around 11 in the morning.

I had barely touched the cardboard tube with the string when it was decided that we’ll have to take the cats to the vet for a pending vaccination and to put a thermometer up their bum.

Back home and after lunch, I stuck the first few lengths of string alternating between the adhesive and the string. Around this time, I began to question my ambitious goal of covering the entire surface of the tube with string.

Two hours later, I was still at 40%. Remember the part about patience? I think I have too much of it for I continued to do this mind-numbingly monotonous job. The wife saved my life by playing some interesting music meanwhile.

Two more hours later, I had 20% of the adhesive left and had finished 200 gms of string – everything I had bought in the morning. The tube looks like a decent scratch post now.

But there’s one tiny little problem.

The cats won’t go anywhere near it. 

Moral of the story: The landlord is going to throw us out because our dear cats are going to continue with their scratch-practice on the sofas.

Cat pics and more

From never having pets before to fostering two kittens, we’ve both come a long way.

I think I’ve always been a cat person. There’s a picture of a 7-year-old me feeding milk to a cat in dad’s house in Kerala. I also have a stupid smile going with it. My wife converted after she saw me pet stray cats anywhere and everywhere. Now she can’t do without a day of cat love. Here are a few pictures of our kittens Exhibit A and Exhibit B over the last few days.

Exhibit A sleeps while B looks on.

After a game of cellotaped newspaper balls, I need to recharge my batteries

"What do you mean this is your sofa?"

"Oh, you are undressing. Well...wait, what's that?"

All you need is love.

And some sleep of course.

And some more.

and some more more.

"How can we sleep with your camera in our faces?"

Exhibit A: "Fuck this shit, I'm going home."

"Why haven't you sent me a friend request yet???"