kodagana koli nungitta

A group of 5 of us ivolunteers participated in a community development initiative organised by makkala jagriti at their venue in old guddadahalli, bangalore. There were about 30 children from an underprivileged background (children of construction workers from the adjoining areas) who participated in the programme. The initiative was to spread awareness about civic, environment and social issues plaguing the community through theatre. The idea was to steer the children to choose an issue that they care for and conceptualise and perform a skit in a time limit of 2 hours.

Being my first volunteering experience and having always had a desire to do this, I was initially apprehensive. I was told never to sympathize with the children but build a sense of self-respect and self-esteem within them. The objective behind the initiative, in my understanding was to channelise their talent, give them direction and in the process spread awareness about the various issues affecting their community.The fear turned to excitement the minute I stepped into their premises. The kids were so enthusiastic about the "drama class" that they were told was going to happen. Inhibitions were non existent as far as I could see.

"ಅಣ್ಣ ಎಲ್ಲ ಶನಿವಾರಾನು ನೀವು ಬರ್ತಿರ ?" - will you be coming every Saturday, a kid asked.

Its not just about going there, teaching them maths, science or arts. Your very presence, having someone to talk to, to share their experiences, share some jokes, laughs, ask questions, answer questions, dance, play - that means a lot to them and to us too. I told her "I'll try".

After a few initial ice breakers, we divided the children into 4 groups of about 7-8 kids .Each volunteer was tied to a group and then the brainstorming sessions began. We just had to drive them a bit and one by one, they opened up. A barrage of varied ideas flowed in from every child. I was surprised and totally taken aback by their clarity of thought and articulation. I asked them how the traffic problem in their area be solved. He replied "ರೋಡ್ ಅಗಲ ಮಾಡ್ಬೇಕು.. ಫುಟ್ಪಾತ್ ಹಾಕ್ಬೇಕು" - Roads should be widened. Footpaths should be laid. One boy suggested that they should write a letter to BBMP notifying them of the problems faced. When asked about the possible contents of this letter, some very interesting answers came out. One girl said that it should talk about the number of vehicles on the road being very high, due to which the buses they take to the school gets delayed. Another boy started by stating the format of an official letter as taught in school and went on to suggest that it should throw light on the difficulties faced by them in walking on the road due to the traffic density and lack of footpaths.

On the whole, the issues they chose ranged across traffic jams, basic civic sense, deforestation, high speed driving, pollution etc. Rehearsals went on for about a good fruitful enriching 45 minutes. Then the performances began. While some children were reticent with stage fear, there were others who were not just dynamic and outgoing, but with an added tinge of ecstatic fervour of having dared to perform in front of a crowd. And they took pride in the fact that it was a skit that they had themselves conceptualised, scripted, directed and staged.

The last skit ended with the song kodagana koli nungitta... All the children and we volunteers joined in. It was a a picture perfect end to an enlightening experience.

Among those kids, I felt like one. The joy in those little eyes, the excitement in their voices, the curiosity in their minds, the humor in their speech, their inherent capability, capacity and interest in learning, the love in their hearts. Do they need us, yes. They need not just us but lots more like us. Not because they are incapable. But to give them direction. To give them focus. To help them realise their talent. To help them explore themselves. To make them aware.

"iVolunteer is an initiative that is working to create a volunteering movement in India. iVolunteer sees its role as that of a catalyst, which will create happy volunteering experiences for both volunteers and non-profit organizations. iVolunteer works through its Volunteer Centres across India and various Non-profit partners to a create a volunteering infrastructure that will reduce the time and cost of recruiting volunteers and there by making it easier for volunteers to make a difference in their local community."
http://www.ivolunteer.in

"Makkala Jagriti endeavours to create different learning opportunities for children, adult and communities from economically disadvantaged backgrounds. They believe its critical to encourage and offer spaces for children from different socioeconomic sections to engage with each other for mutual learning and growth."
http://www.makkalajagriti.org/

He said, "I'm ready to go anywhere else but nandi hills..." So... NAN's nite ride to bidadi cafe coffee day...

Plan: After a heated argument for over an hour, involving the stubborn stand of a team member, we decided to hit bidadi 24 hrs cafe coffee day outlet.

Date: 15/02/2009
Start Time: 00 hours
Basecamp: Our standard adda - dixy's house – Indiranagar, Bangalore.
Bikes/Riders/pillion (only nicknames):
1. beedhi - Honda Unicorn
2. baldie - Honda Unicorn
3. rasika - Hero Honda CBZ
4. dabba - Yamaha Rx 135
5. dixy
6. figure - who decided not to take his unicorn
7. Mr.X(new addition to the team - no nickname as yet)
8. tension
Route: Indiranagar - MG road - Kasturba road - sirsi circle flyover - mysore road - bidadi

Mr.X retorted "Even critical decisions at AD are taken earlier than this.." referring to the time taken to arrive at a decision on our plan. On that note, we picked up our helmets, jackets, scarves, bike keys and walked down to our bikes from dixy's 2nd floor residence. To ensure we dont end up paying the cops like we did during our last night ride, I asked dabba to show me the documents of his bike. And it was a pleasant shock to see the original valid RC book and insurance papers that actually did have his bike's registration number and his name on it. We then decided to stop over at the petrol bank in front of raheja arcade at MG road as baldie and dabba’s bikes needed fuel.

As the engines revved in the dreary silence of the night, a slight fear of earning the wrath of the residents for disturbing their peaceful sleep engulfed us. The rush of adrenaline with the thought of the ride that was to be, ate up the fear. Soon, gears changed and we were on our way. 8 guys 4 bikes. The dusty roads of indiranagar, old madras road, MG road that wore the look of a war ravaged zone due to the metro construction were not very enjoyable. 3 bikes stopped at the bunk. Rasika with his inherent zeal for speed overshot the bunk and had to be informed to stop near Shankar nag rangamandira. Later he and dixy claimed that they had misunderstood that the petrol bank we were supposed to stop was the one near symphony. This slight confusion being nothing in front of the senseless argument we had before leaving, we headed towards sirsi circle flyover via kasturba road. The air started getting cleaner and clear as we moved to the outskirts of bangalore beyond nayanadahalli cross. Our next pit stop was a little beyond kengeri. And then our passionate cameraman(that's an understatement, "obsessive" would do more justice!) started his photo session. We posed and we posed and we posed. There were clicks and more clicks and to add to it, more clicks. Thanks to that, I'm able to post some pics along with this post! Some shuffling of riders and pillion happened and we decided to hit the road again. Vroom... After about 30 mins and 30 kms of riding we reached Bidadi coffee day.

There are so many ways to spend the night. And the best way is to sleep, but no, the whole lot of youngsters(inclusive of us) had to end up there! It was pretty crowded mostly with college going girls and guys who looked dressed for a party. We wondered if god had given those girls immunity against the cold breeze that they could be comfortable with sleeveless tops and short skirts when we felt cold even with our jackets on. I also wonder if dressing provocatively is done deliberately to garner attention or if there's a valid reason behind it. Anyways I'm no one to comment on that as its a free country and everyone is allowed to express themselves with their mouth, pen or otherwise (I dont wish to elaborate on that...). So we ordered cappuccinos, sandwiches, ice creams etc and settled down to chat. Sipping on some nice hot coffee we started talking. Politics, International, sports, youth empowerment are some of the topics that we definitely did not discuss. And it is not in my capacity to describe our conversations here.

We decided to move out of this over civilized place so that we get to breathe some fresh air and relax. After another brief photo session just outside of coffee day in front of the jungle junction food court, we found a nice spot just across the road. A stone platform under a nice huge tree just like the ones in village based movies where the head of the panchayat sits and gives his baseless judgements. The darkness, the moon, the stars, the tree, the breeze, friends around, that's what we were here for. A welcome break from the monotony of AC cubicles and monitors glaring at you. And that’s when they took my trip. Not a pleasant trip but an unpleasant one. They mined out everything in their capacity to pull my leg. In short “it was not my day.. or rather night”. We took a walk through what we assumed was a village road, that led us into a deserted area with some rocky terrain with weeds and dried plants. It was quite silent and calm around with only the sound of the breeze being heard. We settled down on the road talking about our college experiences, not realising the time flying away. It was about 3.30am when we decided to leave. The return ride was more or less uneventful except for a brief stop over at a ‘Chai’ shop for some nice hot brewing tea from an old lady who seemed active and cheerful while serving the tea.

Back at our adda we cherished the ride, the wind, the cappuccino, the tea, the chats, the photo sessions and the arguments. We then laid the beds, lied down on it, pulled the blankets over our faces and dozed. And the sun rose.

4 days later Mr. X retorts "whats worthy of writing in a night ride? u just ride .. feel the wind .. get a glimpse of freedom from this mundane world. .. thats it"

FoOt In ThE mOuTh SyNdRoMe

Perhaps I should categorize this incident as an anecdote or rather an embarrassing story or maybe I'll narrate it and you guys may make a decision on what category it should fall under. It was around 9.30 pm on a friday, 2 years back in my engineering college. The inter collegiate festival hosted by my college was drawing to a close. The college buses that had to ferry the hordes of students to different locations in the city arrived at their respective stops in the campus. So called "youth" that we were, there was a whole lot of excitement and everyone were in high spirits (that included me). A gang of us boarded the route no.10 that goes towards east Bangalore via the outer ring road. It’s usually an hour's drive but considering the time at which we were traveling, we could make it in 40 minutes or lesser.

A lot of chit chat ensued as we took our seats, most of which was incomprehensible even to those who were a part of the conversation (in short it was quite chaotic!). The last event had been the Indian and western music group. A number of good performances and some not very good performances were staged (or vice versa). We took our seats in the bus reviewing the performances by the different college bands. We started humming a few famous numbers that were still in our minds and ears. Slowly the conversation moved onto the bad performances of the day.

I decided that it was time for some action and started imitating the singing performance of the lead singer of a college band that had performed the song Duur (from a famous album by the Pakistani pop band Strings). In a bid to entertain the crowd that was already having a good time, I exaggerated a bit (or should I say a lot rather?). I cleared my throat and sang "Du u u u u u u uuuuur..." with animated hand gestures trying to show the breaks and pauses in the singer's voice. I also added "Is this the way to sing a wonderful song like duur? It’s an insult to strings!" I repeated "Du u u u u u u uuuuur..." this time with hand and neck gestures! This scintillating performance (kudos!) by me evoked a lot of laughter and cheer from the majority of the crowd. An aberration to the appreciation being received turned out to be a friend sitting adjacent to my seat. He was trying to indicate something to me and was signaling me to stop. But how can a STAR (that's me) stop performing when the crowd is enjoying his performance to the fullest. So I ignored the RED signal and continued with my show.

At that point my cell phone vibrated. I took a small break from my superhit show and looked into my phone. I had received a message from the same person who had signaled me to stop. I stared at him for interfering in my 15 minutes of fame and with slight frustration, read the message that said :

"The guy who sang that song for the music competition is seated right behind you. So for heaven's sake stop it!!!"

I missed a heart beat. I felt like digging a hole through the floor of the bus and vanishing from that spot right then. I felt like I should turn into liquid and flow out of the bus. I stooped real low in my seat (and in my behaviour) trying to avoid looking at the guy whose "maana mariyaade" I had taken away not just in piece meal but as a whole. All the excitement of the day had just got dissolved in this "put my head down with shame" situation. By then, the rest of my gang had got the information of the extraordinary circumstances and there was a lot of giggling and deliberate coughing around. There were shouts of "once more once more!!” Who needs enemies when you have friends like these?

Realisation struck then. I was ill. I had been infected by a killer virus. An epidemic. More dangerous than any disease ever known to mankind. Its called the FITM syndrome. Foot in the mouth syndrome. No cure known. Can be controlled only by thinking before talking. I'll have to inculcate that in all its forms into my life.

This incident will go down in my history as the “Open mouth foot inside” incident.

Phoenix rises from the ashes

Warning : The title may or may not be misleading.

The following string of sentences are just meant to announce my re-entry to the world of blogging. When I started blogging about a year and a half back, the thought of having my writings being read by someone, commented upon and discussed about was too exciting. It provided the necessary impetus to hop onto the bandwagon of blogging. But due to lack of time(a reason that I just made to make myself sound convincing) and conviction, the effort ran out of steam and I havent posted anything beyond two paragraphs of a story that "I desired to write". Now I feel that I have the time and the inclination to write.

Moving on, let me substantiate the title that I have given to this post(by hook or crook!). As wikipedia states "A phoenix is a mythical bird which builds itself a nest of myrrh twigs that it then ignites; both nest and bird burn fiercely and are reduced to ashes, from which a new, young phoenix arises; reborn anew to live again. " (yawn....) In a similar manner, my blog space that was burnt fiercely by my inherent laziness and lack of determination, will give way to a new active blogspace where I hope to keep posting regularily(barring which I'll put down my head in shame...) with renewed vigour.

I hope you do enjoy my posts; I will definitely look forward to constructive and destructive criticism(provided its in my favour...). My posts will mostly consist of my experiences and travels but on the whole I should say its going to be random. I'm not sure if i'll continue the story that I began with my first post but I will definitely make an attempt towards it. I'll publish a new post very soon.