Colors of My Life

Wrote this for my icebreaker speech ( project 1) as a part of the Koramangala Toasmaster's Club . The objective of an icebreaker speech is to introduce yourself to the audience.

Many moon nights ago in a small town in Maharashtra called Solapur , a set of anxious parents nervously awaited the birth of their second child. Their first child was a healthy and happy boy and they obviously wanted the second one to be a girl. With a final painful cry, the mother pushed the baby into the world and the midwife and nurses eagerly crowded to see the child. The midwife suddenly drew back and exclaimed “Oh my God, it’s a monkey?' Figuratively of course, you see it was an underweight baby with bulging eyes, thin arms and legs and an inflated tummy that looked like a puffed up pulkha.


That monkey, my friends was me, Neha Shinde- a marketing professional , a voracious reader , a budding guitarist with no musical sense and a self proclaimed drama queen !


Though born in Sholapur, My father Dr. Shinde, a professor by profession, migrated to the sunny state of Punjab when I was in Kindergarten and it’s no surprise that everything bright and yellow reminds me of Ludhiana ad Punjab. Every year during our summer vacations my family, comprising of parents and brother and sister would journey to the western part of the country to meet our relatives and cousins. After a month of tremendous fun, I would eagerly look forward to return back to share my holiday experiences with my friends. After a train journey of a day and a night, the next morning would bring us closer to Punjab and I would realize, we were getting closer by the numerous bright yellow mustard and sunflower fields our train whizzed past. As yellow as well yellow can be, I watched these fields with childish joy that I realized home was near. And it was a happy thought.

When I was about thirteen, my father decided to go back to Maharashtra and we moved to a quaint little town called Miraj famous as they say for doctors and donkeys, sometimes referred to in the same vein. I lived there for about 2 years and lived in a beautiful missionary campus, which was as green and lush as the Garden of Eden. I remember the campus scattered with trees of Mango, Guava, Custard apple, Tamarind, Bamboo, and even sandal wood - and where there is sandalwood there are snakes, and it was in Miraj that I experienced two of my firsts in life- the first one was the sighting of a huge shiny black snake just 2 feet away from me on a narrow pathway and the other was realizing how trembling knees actually felt. But that naga naga did not dampen my enthusiasm of exploring the campus and whenever I think of Green, memories of Miraj come back to me.

As soon I started getting cozy in Miraj, we moved again to a town called Belgaum on the border of Karnataka & Maharashtra. Dad worked for JNMC and we lived in the staff quarters. So, whenever I think of white, I see flashes of white coats of the medical and dental students on campus. Even after my father thanks to his travelling itch, moved abroad when I was in my first year of BBA and I moved in to the college hostel, white always reminds me of the JNMC and its students.

Till the time I moved to Pune do my MBA and then to Bangalore for my job in Satyam, my favorite color was black. It still is, but it now shares the honor with Red. As a result I have more than half dozen black shirts and kurtas in my wardrobe that I don’t know what to do about.
But the color or colors that represents me most is not a black or a red, but the combination of 3 colors of saffron, white and green. You see, for many years because of my constant moving places, I had an identity crisis and wondered if I was a North Indian or a South Indian? Did I belong to the west or east? A few years ago I got my answer; I am a Marathi by birth, a Punjabi by nature, a Kannadiga by lifestyle and an Indian at heart!

So, Ladies and Gentlemen, meet Neha Shinde- a marketing professional, a voracious reader, a budding guitarist with no musical sense, a self proclaimed drama queen and a proud Indian!

An enchanting evening with Leela

The weather gods have gone crazy ! Bangalore is damp and soggy with incessant rains and deserted roads , ruling out any outdoor rendezvous.

So, what better way to spend a rainy evening than with a steaming cup of chai and one of the most beautiful woman in the world . Time pass at its best !
As for the book, it makes an interesting read with tit bits from the leading lady’s life with a twist of irony and humour. Gives a glimpse into the charmed life of a legend that was Leela. I especially enjoyed the chapter - The British on a hunger strike in the land of the Mahatma ! Great insights in some pages too and an easy style of writing . Do read it if you get the chance .

Clinic Casualties !

It's strange how sometimes you write a bit on something , then work and life takes precedence and you totally forgot about it. Here's another post I had written probably a couple of years ago.

The past 10 days have confined me to limited space (a single bed) , limited activities ( checking office mails/replying them and internet surfing) ,limited food ( soups, milk, soups, milk , eggs, khichidi , milk ) and unlimited medicines, thanks to a bacterial infection that caused havoc in Yours Truly’s body by way of fever,throat pain and severe cough !

My mysterious malady, bought me in touch with two of my greatest fears, the hypodermic syringe and extraction of blood!

Well, it so happened that since my adamant fever refused to come down , my doctor suggested a blood test to rule out typhoid and malaria , which was a very noble act except for the naked fact that I have an irrational fear for the syringe and the sight of blood makes me weak . Now couple the two and I have a problem that makes the Iraq bombing look like fluffy clouds.

But doctor's orders are like the ten commandments that have to be obeyed at any cost ! And so I dragged my heavy feet on a bright Friday morning to Appollo Clinic to accomplish this mammoth task. My sister tagged along for moral support , which was lower than the sensex on 'Black Tuesday' .

To begin with things went pretty smooth, the medical attendant seated me comfortably in a chair and then tied my arm with a band to tighten the nerves. Then he dabbed some spirit on my arm and that did it ! That pungent smell unleashed a wimpy & weird creature in me that comes alive in such medical situations. I am not proud of it but I think I outdid Rakhi Saawant with my hysterics. I tried everything under the sun to evade that dreaded injection, right from pretend-fainting bouts to bribing the medical attendant to intimidating him. But the man was unmoved while my sister quickly moved to the end of the room and pretended she was with not with me.

After much deliberation and discussions, we finally decided on a fool proof plan. The medical attendant would be as gentle as possible, my sister would sing ‘Amazing Grace’ and I would try and allow them to do their jobs. I tightly screwed my eyes close and said those magical 3 words ‘Let us begin’.

Well, the room was flooded with a beautiful stream of ‘Amazing Grace’ with some occasional off-key notes contributed by me in my attempt to distract myself. Finally, towards the end of ‘Was blind, but now I see’ I opened my eyes and saw that the job was done with the Attendant triumphantly holding a syringe full of dark red liquid that once ran freely through my veins.
We all looked at each other with a look that must have been on Neil Amstrong’s face when he landed on the moon! Well, the medical attendant also had a look of relief on his face!

Some people conquer nations and scale mountains, I ,on the other hand braved the terrors of a clinic and returned shaken but wise ! Okay, I was exaggerating about the wise part !

So the next time you visit your doctor’s clinic remember Yours Truly and her brave exploits! And if it's Appollo Clinic, you might not want to mention me. I am not exactly popular there !!!

An unexpected rain shower

Yesterday, we had an unexpected shower of rain in Bangalore. It was amazing ! Since the past couple of days we’ve been enjoying an incredible weather.There’s a little chill mixed with the damp air and just the right amount of freshness.

I’ve been rushing often to our rooftop cafeteria just to feel the cool breeze and watch the traffic below. I am a little concerned that the café guy might think that I am totally jobless, but it isn’t often you get such wonderful weather at this time of the year.

I love this city. With its funny idiosyncrasies, its cosmo lifestyle, cheap eateries and expensive restaurants. It's traffic...It's never-ending Traffic!

I love it's Sukh and Shanti sagars !

I love it that there is a place for everyone here no matter where you come from; I love it that there are no Thackerays here claiming it for their own. I love the young call center and IT professionals eagerly crowding Forum & Garuda malls on weekends.

I love its crosses and mains ! Its parallel roads and thousand alleys.

I am learning to love its auto drivers ! Learning ..

I love it that when you stand on MG road, you’ll hear a babble of tongues muttering at least half a dozen languages.

And I love it even more even more when it rains at unpredictable times!


copyright(c) 2009 Neha Shinde

The Perils of a Puneite in Bangalore

Since my arrival in Bangalore about ten months ago I have often encountered the question “So, how do you find Bangalore? How is it compared to Pune?” I find the very question intimidating, especially the comparison part. It’s almost like asking “So, how do you think our left eye is as compared to your left hand or right ear ?”. Me I like ‘em all, yes, I do have something against my tummy, which has the highly distressing habit of deeply rumbling right in the middle of a lecture and more recently office meetings, but those are matters of less importance and I think I’ll live with it.

Coming back to the all important question how is it for a Punite in Bangalore? Thinking about it, I decided to post this as an answer to all those questions in the past and to those questions which are yet to come.

Well, for starters I detest Bangalore Autos!! Yes, you heard me right I do detest them, not the machine as much as the person operating it. And I am sure they detest me in return. It’s mutual, which is a relief in one way coz this hate business is rather difficult to carry one sided. And I have my reasons; I am yet to meet an autowala who doesn’t behave like a rantipole.

I had an early taste of their malicious nature. I happened to miss my company bus on my very second day in Bangalore, and instead of waiting like any normal person would for the next bus, I foolishly ventured out to make it on my own. Suicide I tell you! Well, with the help of a kindly soul, whom I met at the local bus stop in Electronic city, I somehow made it till Silk Board, and I decided to take an auto from there. I have a firm belief that these auto people do have an uncanny sense of smelling out people who are non -Bangaloreans Anyways, I asked an autowala to take me to the desired location and he unblinkingly said “Rs 140 madam” Beggers cannot be choosers they say and I agreed, but before I could even get into his sacred auto he suddenly turned around and said “Madam udhar ja kar 30 Rs extra” Boy did I see red ! I refused not only his ride, but also gave him a sound lecture on how he was spoiling the image of a beautiful city. Not that he cared. For him all I resembled was a piece of paper with a waterline, the image of the father of the nation and a promise from the governor of RBI. Ufff!! I have had many such encounters with these machine men and now it more like who trounces whom. With so much training I could have taken up Law if not the Army!!!

Anyways, with travel taken care of, my next experience was with accommodation. Not only do I find accommodation in Bangalore expensive, but also highly cramped. During my first week, my sister and I went looking for good PG accommodation in Kormangala. Of course, finding a needle in a haystack would have been easier. We tried BTM, Kormangala, Indiranagar without much luck. Nothing could please us moderately. I still shudder at the kind of places we were shown. It’s unbelievable! There was a place where a bathroom was converted into a room!! The lady went great lengths to explain how wonderful was it to live there and even agreed to reduce the rent, but then who wants to live in a Bathroom!!! Disappointment enveloped us. Finally we came up with a solution . Mission “Find it and Rent it was brought into action “That was all what was on our mind. With that new found mission we were again ready for combat.

Thankfully, by God’s grace and admag's help , I found a place that was not only clean and hygienic but also centrally located, with a lovely balcony. So all’s well that ends well! But sometimes I still see that lady’s face as she earnestly tried to convince me that a bathroom was a room after all.

The next logical item in the sequence of things: Food. Thankfully, I love south Indian food, and so I kind of gorge myself on Idlies, Dosas, Bisse Bele Bath, Curd rice, Rasam rice and all those goodies. I am a rice eater so Bangalore is a food haven for me. Of course there are still times when I crave for Poha, Vada Pav, Missal Pav and Pav Bhaji. I haven’t yet found a place that makes decent pav bhaji and the rest of the above items are out of question. But I have found a couple of places where I get great Malyalee food and I was recently introduced to Coorg style by a friend and boy did I love that!!

Coming to the final element (if there is ever such thing) , THE LANGUAGE !!! Now, I have stayed in Belgaum for a few years , so I understand a few kannad words , but the dialect here is very different from that of Belgaum or North Karnataka. And of course there is the slight resistance to speak Hindi , by the locals which is just fine with me as my Hindi is also nothing to write home about. I have the typical Mumbaya way of talking that would make a Hindi lover blush if not have murderous thoughts. But I love the statement ”Chill Maadi “ Its a concoction of English and Kannada which I have termed “ Kanglish “ a statement enough to make you forget all about those horrid ‘autofellas ‘and bathroom woes and feel great ..So whatever the problem chill maadi !!

Which brings me to one of my favorite muse.. People,. People, I believe are same all over irrespective of the geography or culture. Bangaloreans are gentle people with a lot of pride for their culture. Sometimes , I feel they resent their city been invaded by outsiders, a dilemma faced by every expanding metro , but being the hospitable people that they are , they are quick to adjust to the changes and open their hearts and houses ( and bathrooms heh heh ) to us. Some are good and some are bad , like I said earlier the fabric is the same for all of us it’s only the color and pattern that differ.

But nothing beats the weather, which is simply amazing. Just the right temperature and the freshness is striking. It’s a lovely feeling early in the morning, on my way to the bus pick up point, as I see elderly couples taking their morning walk, or late nights as I come back from work when I see youngersters hanging out at different juice junctions and eat outs, or on Sundays when on my way to church I see a lone jogger with an ipod in one hand and water bottle in another on the ring road that connects Kormangala to Indiranagar, or the numerous ‘narayial paniwalas’ I see scattered all across the town. That’s’ when I realize why Bangalore is what it is. It’s that moment when I want to look up in the sky, feel the breeze on my face and say “namm Benguluru rocks”

Copyright (c) 2007 Neha Shinde