Hyderabad on the Rocks!

Millions of years in the making....smoothened and polished to perfection by the ravages of the elements. Cradling the cycle of life on a miniature scale in its nooks and crannies. And a mute witness to the birth of a city, its growth, its political turmoil, and again fast paced heady rediscovery and growth of the modern times! And then the silent bystanders were blasted away..silenced forever exposing in its place, ugly scars which tell no tales. Yes...the city is growing, its roads are widening but environment is being held ransom!

The unique grey-black granite structures which lend Hyderabad a distinct spot in the geological map of the world and has rendered a rustic awe-inspiring charm to the city’s landscape are what I am talking about. They are almost like pieces of abstract art and are a sheer delight to the eyes. However, insensitivity to the heritage nature has bestowed on us, a nefarious greed to encash on the real estate boom of the last few years and frenzied and unplanned growth of the city, has resulted in destruction of these beautiful rock structures which dotted the terrain of this city...located right in the heart of the Deccan Plateau. In most places what remain are skeletons of the erstwhile beauties....ugly quarries in place of natural splendours.

Geologists say that these are amongst the oldest and hardest rock formations in the world dating back to 2500 million years ago!!! The Government has woken up after the mass destruction is almost over to ‘protect’ a handful of the more prominent structures. But what about the other not-so-prominent, yet fine pieces of nature’s artwork? Just last month one such structure, right in front of my daughter’s school was blasted away to make way for a palatial concrete atrocity!

I am all for growth. I, like millions of my countrymen, want to see India at the pinnacle of success…as a leader of the world. But at the same time, I want my country to retain, nurture and cherish the bounty of nature that we are blessed with. Economic development will cease to happen in a country indifferent towards social and ecological responsibility. Our insensitivity towards ecology, lack of basic civic sense, a growing disparity between the haves and have-nots are not what leaders of the world ought to be. A balance must be sought. Where material progress, infrastructure growth happens… but not at the graveyard of ecosystem equilibrium.

FunnyMen aka PoliceMen

Just couldnt not write about the traffic police of the city after sharing roadspace with them for almost 2 long years!

They are a strange lot. Almost docile, followers of Gandhian principle of non-aggression and non-violence, Policemen here (in most cases) are caricatures of their profession! They dare not fine a lady driver, despite her violating many a sundry traffic rules for which her male counterpart will be fined. But there again the fine would vary depending upon how much cash he is carrying. They are considerate enough to allow the offender to keep the change!! And if the offender is the assertive and hostile kind, they'll just let him go.....

Barring a few bulky mustachioed ''Men-in-Uniform", the rest of the lot are lanky, giggly just-out-of-teens "Boys-in-Uniform". And if the consequence of their immaturity and inability to handle the daily morning /evening choc-a-block traffic condition hadnt been so frustrating, their antics would have been downright comical.

Scene I : A group of two or three lanky, malnourished twenty something boys-in-uniform, standing in a cluster right in the middle of a busy crossing. A digital camera in hand, one of the group is showing something and the other two (or three) gangly chaps are giggling away, their backs to the honking traffice jam. Red light has turned green and green into red...the cars are all in a go-as-you-like mode. Chaos all around. But the boys (in their new avtar as cameramen) are oblivious to the pandemonium surrounding them...

Scene II : A lone youth-in-uniform, again with his back towards the chaotic rush all around, is happily chatting away on a cellphone, laughing and talking. That he is on duty which requires contant vigilance is a fact he is apparently unaware of.

Scene III : Again at a busy 'chaurasta', manned by a burly mustachioed man-in-uniform, geared up for action with a baton in hand, supervising another skinny chap in an ill-fitting uniform, shooting images of the passing cars on handycam. So what if the traffic has gone berserk and Autorickshaws, Cyclists, Mercs, BMWs and modest mortals like us, are vying for inches of roadspace. Neither of the Laurel-Hardy police duo bothers to budge from their self-designated spots on the road to clear the jam.

These are a few of the many scenes I am a witness to, daily to and from work.

Now coming to the catalyst for this blogpost?

SD received an inland letter. We were pleasantly surprised, because in todays age of e-communication, inland letters are remnants of the past and we were receiving one after almost a decade or two. We teared open the blue folded sheet in anticipation and wonder only to be deflated and disappointed that it was an e-challan (Traffic ticket) for jumping signal!! And that's when the mystery of the utility of those handycams and digicams was solved!

Just a question to City Traffic Police dept? Innovative and effective though the idea may be to punish the violaters, wouldnt automated cameras be a better idea and let the 'men' do the manning of the commotion that our road traffic is?

PS: I am waiting for an opportunity to click pics of the antics of the men in uniform. If and when I successfully do so, I will amend this post and add the pics

Pricks and Pain

AD is down with fever since yesterday evening. So I am at home today trying to keep a physically down but high spirited 3 year old entertained. When I realised that it may be a bit more than just fever as she was throwing up whatever she was eating, took her to the Paediatrician who apart from prescribing a few medicines, prescribed some blood tests. A petrified me shuddered while remembering the several nightmarish incidents of taking blood samples from AD in past 22 months that we've been in this city at the so-called reputed and much frequented clinics and diagnostic labs of the city. As I drove to the recommended lab, I said a silent prayer to the ALL-POWERFUL-UP-THERE, to let the blood drawing be fast and smooth and let the already sick baby not be troubled further.

As it turned out, GOD, I guess, was busy or my prayers were not weighty enough....

As I entered the clinic AD bombarded me with questions as to why we were-where-we-were and I tried to calmly explain that to cure her tummy ache and fever, some tests had to be done. She screamed a loud NOOOO and I had to almost drag a suspended-in-air kid to the reception counter where the uniformed people gave us a bright smile and a candy to my AD. To avoid recurrences of the past, I enquired whether the lab technicians were experienced to draw blood samples from kids whose veins were too fine to be detected easily. They verbally assured me of their expertise and busied themselves in preparing the bill. As an uniformed employee of the clinic accompanied me to the 'Sample Room' and explained in the local language (which I am ashamed to say I dont understand but my daughter does and hence started bawling!) about the test, I repeated my query regarding his expertise. He looked blankly at me for a second and mumbled something unintelligible and took the rubber tying band and tied it on the left arm of an almost hysterically howling child. No soft words of reassurance, no mild handling of her arm. I kept my temper in wraps. He pressed here and poked there to decipher a vein but his incompetence was too evident to be ignored. I firmly put a stop and repeated (this time sternly) whether any competent person was around , otherwise I would prefer to go to another clinic. Hearing my raised voice (probably), a confident and very busy looking lady-in-a-white coat entered the room. Without giving me a glance, she once again tied the rubber band of AD's arm. Took out a disposable syringe and got down to work, oozing confidence. I was assured. (That appearances can be deceptive, I realised much later.) Deciding not to interfere further, I tried to do my part of the work by soothing AD and distracting her from the morbid going ons.

In the next few seconds (or was it minute I dont know!) what happened shocked me at the insensitivity and lack of professionalism. The lady pricked AD deftly (it was pseudo deftness) and when no blood would come out (as it wasnt a vein at all), she continued twiggling and turning the needle under the skin making the child scream in pain. She took it out and was about to prick it at another point to continue with her trial and error mode of extracting blood, when I hollered and hollered out LOUD...thus making her stop short. I yanked the band off AD's arm and asked her to just let us go. We did not want HER or the bl***y clinic's services. I walked off with a howling, child running a temperature and in (inflicted) pain due to the incompetence and sheer callousness of a bunch of people who open fancy clinics to mint money. As I was about to exit from the premises, the receptionist returned the money I had paid. I was too angry to care ....

I went to another clinic. AD again was hysterical fearing a probable repeat act of the horrendous experience! This time luck was on our side. An expert nurse was on duty. And the whole process of blood drawing was over even before AD could fill enough air into her lungs to scream out loud! I thanked her profusely with tears in my eyes. She was too taken aback to receive my sincere gratitude for a mundane task she probably does countless times a day...

Well, God finally found the time, I guess, to receive my SOS and act upon it!!!

Holiday Hangover...

First and foremost - Thank you all...for all the wonderful words of praise and encouragement that you've sent my way...

I had been away from blogsphere for almost a month....

A month which had started with the anticipation of Pujo vacation, followed by Pujo shopping. Then came the cleaning and washing spree - a must-do before the festive season sets in...so what if the festivities are not celebrated in this house itself? Moreover, I have this fetish of returning after vacation to a sparkling clean and tidy home..otherwise the already down-in-the-dumps post-holiday mood crashes into a state of severe misery and depression. My husband calls me "Baatik-grostho" which if translated into English would be something of a mild psychological disorder.

And finally came the week before the trip.

Last moment packing, last moment shopping, last minute office work, instructions to the maid...it was a week bustling with activities. To add to all the craziness, just three days before the journey, the cooking gas decided to get over at late evening 8:30pm. And what with the 21 days Gas booking cycle and all (as if the Gas Company has been authorised to ration the quantity of cooking I do at my home!!!!!), and as already mentioned in my last post, the microwave being stranded at the service centre, I was left with no fuel to cook!!!! I was just short of having a nervous breakdown when my husband walked into the house after office and was quite unperturbed upon hearing the calamity that had befallen us!! And that made me even more mad, if that's possible! Well not only was he least bothered, his very patronising suggestion of "we can always eat out the next few days" had me boiling mad! I left the house hyperventilating (I always do when I'm tensed and without a clue as to what is to be done).

Suddenly I had a brain-wave, patted myself on my burst of commonsense, went to the nearest local market, asked around for a "Chhota Gas" and finally said yippee when I could locate the right store. There stood only one set of locally made, crude mini-gas cylinder with a burner fitted to the top. To me it was the most precious and coveted object at that moment! Very unsafe, but in circumstances like I was, it was like a God-sent! Lucky me...had I been two minutes late in reaching the shop, I would have missed it. Another sullen faced man frantically entered the makeshift shop in search of a similar "Chhota Gas" just as I was making the payment and expressing my doubts over its safety! The sullen-faced-prospective-buyer must have been in the position of my husband...bombarded by the wife to take some proactive disaster management measures and was decent enough to actually make an attempt to do so ... in glaring contrast to my husband, who had found the situation and especially my condition, quite amusing. Well.. though I brought the "Chhota Gas" home with a lot of fanfare, I couldn’t rest in peace till I somehow got the Gas Boy to deliver a full cylinder before I left for vacation. Well ...at a price though!! This was one occasion when I had no option but to indulge in bribery!!

I wonder when basic amenities like cooking fuel will become a matter of right for any ordinary citizen instead of us having to resort to bribery or the black market!

Thereafter, reached Kolkata for the much awaited vacation without any further excitement or untoward events.

As usual, Pujo vacations are never long enough. So ten days passed in a jiffy. Short, enjoyable, hectic..with Momo's (my daughter) double birthday celebrations, Pujo rituals, Pandal hopping, Belur Math trip, meeting family, Bijoya Dashami lunch & dinner parties, Lakshmi Pujo, the vacation was chock-a-block with activities. There wasn’t a moment to sit, relax and let the holiday mood to seep in...Pujo vacations are nothing but a mad mad sea of hundreds of activities that just have to be packed in during the five days.

Durga Puja, I feel, is not only about religious fervour. It is a blend of art, creativity, skill and a celebration of our life in general! By art and creativity, one has to see to believe the awe-inspiring craftsmanship and skill that go into making the Pandals which are just temporary structures dismantled after five days of the Puja. It's a shame that they have to be dismantled. We should have a museum to preserve these masterpieces by the unsung master craftsmen. What is more fascinating is the conceptualization of the themes for the Pandals which are both topical as well as innovative.

For example, one of the Pandals I had visited was based on Global Warming and the entire material, colours etc were environment friendly.

Another Pandal was a prototype of Tata’s much-maligned Nano factory at Singur. This pandal, which looked like a factory from the outside was tied with a chain and a lock to symbolise West Bengal’s industrial doomsday. Wish circumstances were different and Bengal had had the opportunity of celebrating the launch of Nano from its backyard......

The variety, the beauty and the grandeur of the clay idols of the Goddess and her entourage leaves one speechless. They too are immersed, as is the custom, at the end the the Puja. If one happens to pass by the Ganges the day after Dashami, one finds thousands of remnants of the grandeur ... the carcasses littering the water and adding to the already over-polluted river.

As I said, THE PUJA is a time for celebration ...not necessarily and exclusively religious It is a social potpourri where the whole community and society, irrespective of religion, caste, creed get caught up in a festive gaiety so unique to this particular festival. I am not exaggerating when I say irrespective of religion - I have seen Muslim families in Kolkata dressing up, renting cars and going from Pandal to Pandal, enjoying the lighting, decorations, and in general getting immersed in the celebrations. That is what I feel is unique and the very essence of any celebration…where no one ought to be left out! Happiness should not be ethnicity/religion specific….it should be all-encompassing!

Lastly as I end this piece, I can't help but write about a section of the society we love to hate but without whose tremendous support, the non-stop travelling within the city, commuting between my two homes (parents and parents-in-law) in two corners of the city would have been nothing short of a series of nightmares. THE KOLKATA TRAFFIC POLICE!!!

I was amazed and very very pleasantly surprised to see their super-efficient handling of the enormous bulk of traffic. Fantastic manning of the roads, supported by widely publicized road maps leading to the Pujas, aided by SMS helpline resulted in smooth flow of vehicles. The whole scenario could have and would have turned nasty if this daunting task had not been handled deftly…Kudos to the Kolkata Police…

We're back in our Hyderabad home with suitcases bursting with gifts of new clothes and various goodies. Life has gone back to normal. Office, home, cooking, …the list is monotonous and common! The holiday hangover is gradually receding to the background and the orderliness of day-to-day life is coming to the forefront. Ordeliness is boring and commonplace...but that's reality, I guess!!!

Looking forward to next week’s festival of light …DIWALI!

HAPPY DIWALI TO ALL

Bibliography :

Baatik-grostho-A Bengali terminology referring to a habit bordering on obsession/fetish for a particular characteristic/way of life;

Chhota-Small/mini;

Durga Puja-The most important festival in the Bengali calender celebrated during September/October;

Pandal-A structure made of bamboo, plaster-of-Paris, canvas and various other material meant for housing the Idol of any Hindu deity;

Pandal-hopping-Pandal visiting spree to have a look at the decor and the Idols;

Belur Math- Headquarters of the Ramakrishna Mission, founded by Swami Vivekananda. Situated about 15kms from Kolkata on the banks of the River Hugli;

Bijoya Dashami-The fifth day of Durga Puja, after immersion of the Goddess, friends and family meet, exchange greetings and offer sweets to one another;

Diwali-A major Hindu festival celebrated all over India. Fireworks, Lighting of oil-lamps, candles and worshipping the Goddess Lakshmi /Goddess Kali are significant aspects of this festival

Hyderabadi Hiccups

The City of Pearls and Nizams, forts and monuments, dotted with lakes and rocky hills... Steeped in history and culture, here the confluence of multitude of religions rendered it a novel charm of harmonious co-existence. Life was graceful and slow-paced. ‘Tehzeeb’ and nawabi etiquette were true to form in all strata of society…be it the lowest rungs or the upper echelons of the social hierarchy.

Hyderabad was all of the above and more…Hyderabadi way of life was unique because of its multifaceted hues.

Then came the windfall. A whirlwind of growth frenzy and development brought about a metamorphosis… And Hyderabad, in a span of few years transformed itself to Hi—tech city aka Cyberabad.

The city changed … and how!
The indulgent way of life had to give way to breakneck speed.
Hyderabad became a ‘happening’ place to be in - with almost every IT giant one can think of, making Hyderabad its major hub; with a booming real estate with massive projects coming up; with SEZs mushrooming in surrounding districts; with a swanky airport of international standards to boast of; with bright, young professionals flocking to the city from all over the country and different parts of the world.

What more could Hyderabad ask for? Unfortunately, MORE..MUCH MORE - better service, better work culture, sense of punctuality, a positive and proactive attitude, to say the least!

The new makeover was too sudden and at too alarming a speed. The common man, used to the nawabi culture and an inherent attitude of indolence and procrastination, COULD NOT and DID NOT keep pace with the speed of transformation.


My husband and I are part of the burgeoning professionals who have made Hyderabad their home in the recent past.

Moving to any new place is a mammoth and tiresome task, settling down to new environs is not easy.
But in Hyderabad, the difficulties are several times more, thanks to a pathetic, uninformed and lackadaisical local service sector…
- be it a driver who oversleeps and forgets to report to work; or
- a car mechanic who responds to a complaint of a broken silencer two months later, expecting that the repair job would be waiting for him ; or
- uninformed / untrained sales personnel at departmental stores who respond to a request of the modest eau de cologne with a blank stare followed by directions to a shelf stacked with Colins cleaner.

I can cite a zillion such instances which I have been experiencing in the past twenty months that I have been in the city. Some, on hindsight, are so comical that one forgets how exasperating and irritating they were when they had actually happened!!

An illustration :
Last year, just after shifting, I called a carpenter to fix a shelf. After at least a dozen phone calls and half a dozen visits to his workshop, he finally took pity on my desperation, and obliged me by coming over to ‘have a look’ at the dimensions and estimate the raw materials needed. It was the humblest of shelves, with no ornamentation, just utilitarian to keep my printer. A job of not more than half a day. Well, after his first ‘visit’, he decided to disappear once again. Again I resumed the phone calls and trips to his workshop. Finally he relented. He came with the materials, started the job, made the two supports to which the plank of wood was supposed to be fixed, cut the plank of wood as per the required dimensions. And before he could proceed, he received an ‘emergency’ phone call and with the ongoing job and materials scattered all over the floor, he again did the disappearing act…NEVER TO RETURN, despite several dozen attempts at contacting him..
A fortnight or so later he called me, demanding payment for the material and work (he seemed to have been afflicted by selective amnesia, choosing to conveniently forget, that the work, for which he was demanding payment, remained unfinished). I burst out in anger, ranted and raved. But to no avail. That was the last I heard of him or from him and I was just too tired and disgusted to care.
The plank of plywood was later utilized as a makeshift shelf where I dare not keep the printer!!
Please note that the carpenter did not even bother to collect money for the raw materials he bought!!!

Some not so comical ones…
For the past one and a half month my microwave is out of order.
Initially, the oven door had come off. The response to the complaint lodged with the call centre was snail paced. The technician decided to turn up a good ten days later. He reported that the door needed to be replaced which would be done within two days. I was surprised, as the door, to me, looked in fine shape except for the joints. But the technician would know better…or so I thought!
Another week or so passed by and when I again called up the fellow (I had been wise enough to have stored his mobile no.) he informed me that new doors of that model were out of stock and he would come and repair the existing door! Well, if the existing one was repairable why bother to prescribe replacement in the first place, I asked, but to myself. I was too happy that the microwave would be operational the next day. So I did not dare ask too many questions. The technician turned up two days later, repaired the door, collected Rs.400/- and left. My maid informed me (over phone as I was at work) with great pleasure that the ‘mesheeen’ was working.
She was the happiest as the chore of heating food is so much more simplified with the ‘mesheen’ in action!
But our happiness was short-lived.
The door was fine, but now, due to his inefficiency or lack of skill, the technician had dismantled and reassembled the machine in such a manner that it was not working at all. Another technician came after a week of phone calls and we were finally asked to send it to their workshop where it is still being ‘repaired’ (or further destroyed!!). Our wait is on…

My three year old goes to one of the better playschool cum day-care centres in an upmarket locality of the city. The school has great infrastructure, pleasant teachers, adequate outdoor play areas which satisfied my husband and me enough to entrust them with the responsibility of our baby for almost ten hours a day. Last week while I was discussing the activities of the kids with one of the teachers, I casually mentioned Montessori method assuming it to be common knowledge. I was shocked and amazed that the terminology was as alien to her as Greek is to me.

These instances, you would say, can happen in any Indian city. Maybe….though I’m sceptical that the levels of service in any of our other BIG cities can be this poor. What makes the lack of professionalism and efficiency all the more glaring is the cost factor - The charges for the substandard services doled out are exorbitant and could be amongst the highest in the country. The price charged for the sheer indifference, complacency, lack of interest and absence of adequate skills, is mind boggling..

Well, from all of the above, you would conclude that I hate the city. Strangely enough, I don’t. Though neither am I magnanimous enough to love it.

A city like Hyderabad, with its peculiarities and nuances, grows on you. Its myriad contrasts are almost a microcosm of the India of today-where development and backwardness co-exist with glaring obviousness.
But to rise above the average, retain its growth spurt and make it a city of high standards, a remedy for the HICCUPS IN THE LIFE OF A COMMON MAN IN HYDERABAD, has to be developed.
Because hiccups may be just a mild discomfort, but if they persist, life becomes sheer HELL and are indications of bigger problems to come!!!!

Bibliography : Tehzeeb - An Urdu word which means manners / etiquette