By the Ganga in Varanasi

Just a little more, I tell myself as I follow the hotel attendant up steep stairs to my hotel room.

I am in Varanasi after what seems like a long, long day. A day that began with an early morning flight to Delhi getting delayed, leading to my almost missing the connecting flight to Varanasi. And then there was this ride from Varanasi airport through the most crowded roads I have been through in recent times. All this was enough to stress me out on the very first day of a holiday that I had started planning in May this year.

When the hotel attendant opens the door to my room, I can’t believe my eyes. The view is exactly as the hotel website claims it would be: an uninterrupted view of the river Ganga or the Ganges or Ganga ji as the locals call it. All my tiredness and irritation vanishes in an instant as I sit down on the chair in the balcony and let Ganga ji take over.

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Mumbai Lens: Misty monsoon avatar

Quick ! Tell, me, what images come to your mind when you think of monsoons and rains in Mumbai? The waves lashing the Worli seaface or Marine Drive. People wading through (at least) knee-deep water. Submerged tracks. Buses and taxis still plying in spite of heavy rainfall. Victims of landslides or collapsed buildings…

I present to you here none of these images; instead, what I present here are lesser seen images, avatars, of Mumbai. Images that almost made me feel like I was somewhere else.

View from Nehru Centre one rainy day

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My ‘now’ song: The silent anthem

Do you ever have a song, an idea, a storyline, or an image stuck in your head? And it just refuses to go away? For some time at least. I have this with music—it could be a song, an instrumental piece, a jingle, etc. This becomes my ‘now’ song, and the “nowness” (pardon my English here) could be for any length of time.

My now song is the silent version of the Jana Gana Mana, produced by .

I’m sure you’ll agree that no further explanations are needed here.

Happy Independence Day 🙂

Travel Shot: St. Mary’s Island

Once upon a time, ok in November 1998, a friend and I decided to travel down the West coast of India. We started in Honnavar in Karnataka and travelled all the way down to Thiruvananthapuram, hopping in and out of trains and buses. It is a trip that makes me nostalgic even thinking about it. One the places we “discovered” was St. Mary’s Island, off Malpe Beach near Udipi.

St. Mary’s Island, also called Coconut Island by the locals, is an uninhabited island with a shelly beach and clear, cool waters. This is how the local operator who ran motor boat services to the island sold the beach to us. What he did not mention was that the island was made up of columnar basalts, and that it was a geological monument.

7 November 1998: St. Mary’s Island

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The Lord’s Tour: A visit to the home of cricket

If you had been anywhere near the Lord’s Cricket Ground on 4th September 2009, at around 9.50 am, you might have seen a woman running around trying to find a way into the grounds. It is also possible that you might have heard some loud cursing in at least 3 languages from her. That woman was me.

In case you thought that I was trying to break in to see some cricketer, perish the thought. I was running (and cursing) as I was late for a pre-booked 10.00 am Lord’s Tour, which meant that if I didn’t find the correct gate in the next 5 minutes or so, I was going to miss the start of the Tour. And my experience of guided tours in England was that They. Started. On. Time. Period.

Now I am not a cricket fan. Never was, and never will be. If India is on a winning spree, I might just listen to the talk around me, but that’s about it. So then why was I going to Lord’s then? It was because of my sports fanatic brother’s parting words at Mumbai airport before I boarded my flight for London in September 2008.

Don’t come back to India without having watched a cricket match at the Lords.

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Hospitalisation, health insurance and TPA woes: A first-hand experience

A couple of months back, my Appa (father) was unwell enough to require hospitalisation. It was a very stressful period for all us, but the stress factor came not so much from his illness or hospitalisation or treatment or care and recovery, but from an unexpected source—his health insurance’s Third Party Administrator (TPA), who created delays and blocks at every step, making the actual hospital stay seem almost like a vacation in comparison.

Both my parents are covered in the health insurance plan offered by the organisation I work in, and this was the first time I was availing of medical insurance, which is administered by a well-known TPA. The insurance plan I am covered under offers a “cashless” hospitalisation facility in most of the well-known hospitals in Mumbai. A reason to feel relaxed about and not have palpitations. Right? Wrong !

Appa had been having fever, which showed no signs of abating in spite of medication and care at home, as well as his doctor’s supervision. After a week of battling with the fever, his doctor advised hospitalisation for investigations and focussed treatment at a well-known hospital, close to our house. Once this decision was taken, my brothers and I got into action—while they would get him ready for the hospitalisation, I would get the insurance and TPA formalities sorted out.

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