Saturday, December 22, 2007

A Cockroach Ride

In a previous post, I narrated a rather memorable bus journey. It appears that buses aren’t the only providers of action… Last Sunday, D, G and I were on our way back to JIPMER from the beach, in one of those shared autos (a k a Cockroaches). The Cockroach was packed to the fullest extent possible, and I was crammed between G and a woman with four young kids. Right behind me, his back against mine, sat the driver of the Cockroach. We’d just started off when a fight broke out between the woman with the four kids and the driver. She refused to purchase tickets for her kids, saying they were all too young to count. The driver pointed out that no matter what their age, they took up space, because only kid sat on her lap while the other three sat on the seats, so she would do well to pay up. She refused.

The argument, inevitable as it was, began. The driver pulled over, turned around to face the woman, and began yelling. She yelled back. There was quite a shouting match going on. “Shut up! Shut UP! SHUT UP!!!”, he hollered. “YOU shut up!”, she hollered back. Another woman, ostensibly a friend of the one with four kids, hollered “SHUT UP!” at nobody in particular. Since I was caught right in the middle of the fight, literally, squashed between the warring parties, I was deafened by the “SHUT UP”s and also generously sprayed with spit. Ew ew ew. After shouting for several more minutes, everyone DID shut up, though both the driver and the women continued to mutter rather unintelligibly.

And then, quite suddenly, an oldish woman right at the back of the Cockroach said something about mothers not ‘keeping their kids to themselves’ (rough translation, that one). The mother of four sprang up from her seat (quite a feat, considering the Cockroach was CRAMMED with people (and four kids, of course) and slapped the oldish woman- SMACK!!! Soon there was a string of Tamil profanities that I can’t translate to English, and even if I could, I wouldn’t have been able to put those words in a post on my blog.

Soon, they came to blows. First they beat each other, trying to do their best, what with the limited space and lack of light. I received a few blows on my back. We decided it was high time we got off the Cockroach. The last I saw, each woman was trying to pull the other’s hair out. I thought of all those seemingly pointless questionnaires I’ve answered… You know, the ones that carry questions like

If you came across two people fighting, you would

  1. Stop and watch
  2. Try to pull them apart
  3. Try to make them see reason and stop fighting
  4. Just let them be and get out of there as soon as possible

I’d always answered either B or C (though option C doesn’t make any sense, really). But I now realize that it’s a LOT more important that I save my own back. I DID try option B, albeit half-heartedly, but I got kinda hurt in the process. From now on, it shall be D. Always.

Well, thanks to that catfight, we had to get down MILES from JIPMER and then walk most of the way. As a result, we were late for dinner, and missed the Gulab Jamun that had been prepared as the Weekend Special…. Sigh.

Sunday, December 9, 2007

The City of Dawn

‘There should be somewhere on earth, a place which no nation could claim as its own, where all human beings of good will who have a sincere aspiration, could live freely as citizens of the world and obey one single authority, that of the Supreme Truth; a place of peace, concord and harmony…’


Reading that was enough to make me fall in love with Auroville, a utopian settlement a little to the north of Pondicherry. This alluring universal town was founded in 1968 by Mother Mirra Alfassa, the chief disciple of Sri Aurobindo Ghosh, as a ‘laboratory of evolution’. Here, a city has been created where all persons can live in freedom and peace, rising above all petty politics, caste, creed, and nationality, in unity and international understanding.

On February 28th of 1968, Auroville, or the City of Dawn, was inaugurated, when youth from 128 nations placed a fistful of their native soil in a white, lotus-shaped urn near the Matrimandir, representing the creation of a city dedicated to unity and harmony. Today, the city sprawls over 25 square kilometers, comprising of 80 settlements, separated by local villages. The city is planned in the shape of a spiral galaxy, with four zones radiating out from the Matrimandir, which the Mother called the Soul of Auroville.



The site of Auroville was originally a backward and impoverished rural area. Under the French architect Roger Anger, the Aurovillians toiled for twenty years and have succeeded in transforming it into a lush and beautiful settlement, with dense jungles and breathtaking greenery all around. The Aurovillians used only biological farming methods, planted over two million trees and paved all paths with plants. Even now, their primary activities include afforestation, organic agriculture, village development and environmental conservation.

I visited Auroville on a rainy Sunday with a few friends and students. We went straight to the Visitor’s Centre, built of mud blocks and Ferro cement. We spent considerable time looking around, gazing at the pictures in the gallery and reading all about the principles of Auroville, its history, conception, values and activities. After a cup of steaming coffee and a few brownies at the cafĂ©, we went on to collect the free passes that would allow us to walk to Matrimandir, which our students called the Golden Globe.











Before actually going to Matrimandir, we visited a small information centre, where we learnt that the Matrimandir is erected on four pillars, each one representing an aspect of the Mother. They’re called Mahalakshmi, Mahakali, Mahasaraswathi and Mahaparvathi. The structure of the globe itself is quite interesting. At the heart of Matrimandir is a circular meditation room, with white walls, and white carpeting on the floor. At the centre stands a crystal orb, the largest in the world (about 70 cm in diameter). Around the room are 12 pillars. Through an operculum above, sunlight falls directly on the orb, lighting it up. There is nothing else… No idols, no religion or religious symbols, no writing, no ornate carvings. As the Aurovillians put it, there is nothing except absolute silence, meditation, and Truth. They claim that once inside, nothing matters, except the Supreme Truth. All that one must concentrate on is the play of sunlight on the polished surface of the sphere. Nothing else matters, nothing else is real.




The construction of Matrimandir began in 1971, and is still going on. The inner chamber is now complete, but work is still going on outside. We couldn’t go inside Matrimandir because of the ongoing construction work, and even if that weren’t the case, we would’ve been asked to come back some other time because Matrimandir is open only in the afternoons, and only on weekdays.




After watching a documentary on Auroville and Matrimandir, we collected our passes and walked one kilometer through the Matrimandir gardens (Battery-powered coaches are available for those who can’t walk that far) to the globe. It’s really quite awe-inspiring… like a gigantic blob of gold, surrounded by greenery. Right in front of Matrimandir lies an amphitheatre. And that’s where the urn containing the soil of 128 countries is. Nearby, there’s a huge banyan tree, the geographical centre of Auroville, revered nearly as much as Matrimandir itself.




I was delighted to learn that Auroville has only mud paths, paved with plants. Nearly all the construction here is eco-friendly. All the houses in Auroville are dependent on solar energy. In the kitchen of Auroville, there’s a solar cooker that’s 15 meters in diameter… probably the largest in India. Biogas tanks and solar heaters are commonly used for domestic purposes. There are 30 windmills, 2 wind turbines which pump water, and 100 photovoltaic pumps and a 36 kW photovoltaic power plant. What with all the greenery, energy conservation plans and near-zero pollution, this community must be every environmentalist’s dream come true.


The inhabitants of Auroville are actively involved in educational research, health care, cultural activities, community service, small and medium scale businesses. They have set up workshops and schools, and provide education to a large number of the rural populace. They also have several education centres for the local farmers. Research is on in several fields… organic farming, alternative energy sources, water management, and so on. Meanwhile, they also experiment with issues relating to organization- the process of entry, the economy, decision taking, and other aspects of administration.

All education in Auroville is based on what Sri Aurobindo once said… ‘The first principle of teaching is that nothing can be taught’. Auroville claims that here, children would receive education not so that they can pass exams, obtain certificates or jobs, but so that they can ‘enrich existing faculties and bring forth new ones’. Opportunities to serve the community are considered more important than ranks and titles. Work here is not a way to earn one’s livelihood, but a means to express oneself and develop one’s capacities, while serving the community to the fullest extent possible.

Later, we checked out the Auroville boutique, which sells fine leather, marbled silks, batik textiles, essential oils, aromatherapy bath salts, fragrant candles, pottery, pewter, cards and handmade paper. We then stood watching as a few artists in the Artist’s Camp sketched and painted. Soon, it was time to go. We took one last look around and then headed back to the real world, which, even with all its corruption, communalism, hatred, bigotry and discrimination, isn’t such a bad place after all. But if every place could be like Auroville…


‘…It would be a place where human relationships, which are normally based almost exclusively on competition and strife, would be replaced by relationships of emulation in doing well, of collaboration and real brotherhood…’


Saturday, December 1, 2007

Buses, brakes and bald heads

Once again, it's time to leave home. I've spent the last two days pressing, folding and packing. Really, I envy those Bollywood heroines who screech hysterically, "Mein yeh ghar chod ke jaa rahi hoon!" and then just toss a few designer sarees into a designer suitcase rather unceremoniously and strut out of the ghar. Ohhh boy. Not so easy. I know my kind of 'leaving' is slightly different, but still.

Anyway, this time tomorrow, I'll be on a bus to Pondicherry. I generally like journeying by bus. More often than not, a bus ride is anything but uneventful. This leads me to narrate something that happened the last time I was traveling to Pondicherry (Yeah, kinda like Tinkle's 'It Happened To Me', I know)...

I was traveling alone, and I had a window seat in the very nice, very comfortable bus. Sitting right in front of me was a bald, middle-aged man (henceforth referred to as BMM, for convenience's sake), who, soon after the bus started moving, reclined his seat and promptly fell asleep. Every few minutes, he'd wake up and move the back of his seat a little further back. By the time we entered Tamil Nadu, the back of his seat (and his head) was resting against my knee. Bugged, I moved to the next seat which, thankfully, was empty. BMM started to snore, loudly at that. I got bugged-er. I looked around. Everyone else seemed to be asleep too, with the exception of a heavily pregnant lady who was retching into a plastic cover (her second. The first plastic bag was still hanging from the hook on the back of the seat in front of hers) with abandon.

I looked away, and focused all my attention on the snoring BMM. How could I wake him up? Which would be the best, most irritating way of doing so? Okay, I was being unnecessarily mean, but an idle mind is the devil's workshop, remember? I played a game on my cellphone, careful to shine the light on BMM's face. I was contemplating playing a loud and unpleasant ringtone (Mars, or Coconut would've been my choice), when the bus, which had been whizzing along at a remarkable speed, lurched to a sudden halt.

Inertia. I fell forward. Since I'd stowed the arm rest, I quite involuntarily grabbed that which had now taken it's place- BMM's bald head!!! To make matters worse, I'd had my mobile in my hand, and there was a dull THWACK when it made contact with BMM's skull. I withdrew my hand at once and squeaked, "Sorry, sir!", but the damage had been done. I wish I could describe the look (The Look) BMM gave me, but I can't. I won't even try... I'll leave it to your imagination.

Anyway, after that, BMM pulled his seat back into the normal position, I moved back to my own seat, and the pregnant lady stopped puking and threw both plastic bags out. Nothing untoward happened during the rest of the journey.

But the best part was yet to come. I got off the bus right in front of JIPMER, instead of going all the way to the Pondicherry Bus Stand. And guess what? BMM got off too! As we walked through the gates of JIPMER together, another man, a doctor, came striding up to BMM and spoke to him for a while. He called BMM 'Doctor'. So he works there in JIPMER. He's very probably a staff member. Maybe even a big shot... the kind that can pull some major strings.

Dr BMM gave me The Look again, and walked off.