Ayurvedic Massage

The power of constant advertisement is immense. First it makes you curious about the product, next interested in the product and then makes you a user or at least makes you give a try.

The Ayurvedic massage advertisement’s I have been seeing in fliers, newspaper and magazines for a few years. They first made me a bit curious then the growing curiosity made me a bit interested and as the interest grew I wanted to give it a try. The interest perhaps lay dormant in my mind as I said to myself “might give a try when in south India”

In Pondicherry when we (me and my wife) spotted one Ayurvedic Massage parlor we walked in to find that their male masseur was on leave for a couple of days and only my wife can have a massage done. My wife wanted both of us get the massage done at the same time.

Next day we walked into another Kerala Ayurvedic Massage parlor on the next street.

They looked like more professional with the staff’s wearing a grey color dress. The front office staff informed us that on that they are fully booked. However he found a slot for us next evening. We needed to confirm our booking with 25% advance payment, which we did.

The next day we reached in time for the 50 minute general body massage. We were asked to wait for 5 minutes to allow them to prepare the oil. The massages on ladies are done by females and the men by males.  Then my wife was escorted to the ladies massage room by a lady and shortly I was taken to the massage room by a man.  

I entered a small room that was dimly lit up.  The music system was softly playing something in Sanskrit. A wooden bed in the center of the room with its edges curved up like a bowl, a padded stool and an electric cook-top on which was sitting a bowl full of oil.

 I was asked to take off my clothes, even my underwear. I was made to wear a small piece of cloth just to cover my groin area.

Sitting on the stool I was given a head massage with some Ayurvedic oil. It was so relaxing that the 6-7 minutes of massage made me sleepy. Next I was asked to lie on the wooden bed and within minutes I felt as if I was swimming in a pool of oil. The short, dark, stout man was massaging the oil all over my body.

 My arms, body, back and legs all were covered in a thick film of oil. Now I realized why the wooden bed had edges curved up like a bowl, to protect me from falling down if I skid on the very oily bed. Let me assure you that fear of skidding and falling down from the thickly oiled bed were not impossible.

Like every beginning has an ending the massage ended. The Tamil masseur knew very little English but still he managed to ask “did you like the massage?” I said yes. The last part was bathing with soap and shampoo to get rid of the extra oil from my body before putting my clothes on.

To my surprise I felt my body was rejuvenated and much lighter, this feeling lasted for the entire evening. Oh god this Ayurvedic Massage is wonderful.

Merry Christmas

After an excellent Christmas at Agra in 2012 it was time for 

a decent Christmas celebration in 2013.

Why I call the Christmas in 2012 excellent?

1. It was the first Christmas self and my catholic wife were spending together in India.

2. We were very new in Agra and did not have a home our shelter was a hotel 

room and we were changing hotels on 25^th December.

3. Agra was bitterly cold and foggy with almost no sun.

4. I had joined a new job and my office was open on Christmas day.

5. I did not have a transport of my own.

6. The road in Agra, dark without street lights and deserted 

as night as falls, which ultimately gives you a feeling of insecurity.

When I returned back from work it was already 8-30 pm.

 It was bitter cold out the dark roads were empty with a thick fog cover. 

It did not seem like it was Christmas, A day of celebration and 

merry making. Just like another cold winter night. 

People prefer to stay indoors for the biting cold.

 I was happy to find that my wife had managed to move to the new hotel alone, 

with our huge luggage.

Although we wanted to spend the evening outside,

 the dark deserted and foggy roads prompted us not to risk venturing outside. 

We ate our quiet simple Christmas dinner in the hotels dining room. 

On that day I said to myself, the next Christmas we will not be in Agra.

On 24 December, 2013, afternoon we reached Pondicherry (also called Puducherry)

 a French colony for many years, now a union territory of free India. 

It has a fair amount of Christian population. 

After checking into our hotel we walked down to the nearest 

Catholic Church on Mission road.

It was an old church whose cleanliness, 

inside decor and paintings on the dome thrilled us. 

The Church was gearing up for the last minute preparation. 

The big number of chairs in the open space suggested there 

will be a huge turnout for the mid-night mass. 

The priest also said that we must come well before the mass begins to have a seat.

The only concern left was how safe are the streets of Pondicherry after mid-night?

 we have to walk back to our hotel after the mass.

 Everybody we asked said that the streets are safe and secure even after mid-night.

Pondicherry being in south India has a tropical climate so houses have no fire-place or chimneys. 

Santa has to come through the door. On our way to the church after dinner we 

saw women and kids busy putting up colorful Rangoli designs in front of their house. 

The shops along the street were brightly lit up, had decorated Christmas tree 

and other Christmas decorations, “in the air there is the feeling of Christmas”.

The road in front of the  church was cordoned off and no traffic movement 

or parking of vehicles was allowed.

People who did not get a place inside the church sat outside for the mass.

The mass started a bit late and stretched for two hours and was in Tamil,

 the language we Do Not Understand. Never mind be it in any language God is God.

My wife was very happy as we walked back at 2-30 am to our hotel with our hearts filled with Joy.

It was a Merry Christmas after all.

India my India: Kedarnath Temple

India my India: Kedarnath Temple: The Hindu Mythology As per the Hindu Mythology, in the war of Mahabharata the Pandavas killed a lot of their friends, relative...

Kedarnath Temple

The Hindu Mythology

As per the Hindu Mythology, in the war of Mahabharata the Pandavas killed a lot of their friends, relatives and enemy soldiers. At the end of the war they went to sage Vyasa to show them how to absolve their sin. Vyasa advised them a pilgrimage to Himalayas and a sacred view of Lord Shiva.

 Lord Shiva would not allow the Pandavas to catch a glimpse of him so easily. He started playing a hide and seeks game and the Pandavas followed him from Kashi, Haridwar and Gupta Kashi till they reached Gaurikund.

Here they noticed Lord Shiva disguised as a he-buffalo. Bhima tried to grab hold of the buffalo as the buffalo also tried to enter and vanish under the earth. In the tug of war the buffalo split into five pieces and fell in different directions. The hind part of the buffalo fell here and turned into a stone. The godly voice of Shiva said “I will reside here as a Jyotirlinga” The Pandavas were absolved of their sins.

Hindu’s till today believe with a mere sight of the stone they will be relieved of all their sins. Hence they have been taking a journey to Kedarnath for centuries ignoring all the hardships they have to undertake.

Kedarnath not for the weak hearted

The distance from Rishikesh to Gaurikund is approximately 209 kilometer.

At present the road goes up to Gaurikund but in the past motor-able road ended at Rishikesh.

Pilgrims would reach Rishikesh from all corners of the country by road in small groups. Spend a day or two resting in some Dharamsala (Rest rooms in a temple complex for pilgrims at a cheap rate or free) before they start on their tough journey. They would carry little luggage, cotton and woolen clothes, water bottle, some dry food all wrapped in a blanket or put in a sack. The rich ones could afford a porter and the rest had to carry them.

Pilgrims would start their long walk in small groups with their back pack and a stick in hand at dawn when it is comparatively cooler. As the day progressed the summer sun would come scorching down forcing them to rest under the shade of a tree by noon. The rest might not be peaceful as one has to fight the ants and the flies. As evening progressed they will have to start again pull up their tiring legs and find shelter before night falls in the nearest Choti (rest house).

The Choti’s were a place where you get to sleep at night in a room shared with many other pilgrims, bed-roll available at a price. You can buy flour, rice; lentils, salt etc cook your dinner, eat dinner, clean the utensils and return them to the Choti owner before you sleep. 

If you reach late the Choti rooms may get overcrowded and you may be forced to sleep outside the room on the open porch. All around were jungles and there always remained that fear of a wild animal attack.

Again wake up at dawn and start your tiring days walk till the summer sun forced them to stop.

This would go on for days as the group walks up slowly from Rishikesh to Devprayag the confluence of the two rivers Alakananda and Bhagirathi after which it is called Ganges.  Near the confluence is a Rama Temple, it is believed after killing Ravana, the Demon in Ramayana, Rama came here for penance.

From Devprayag the Kedarnath pilgrims will take the right trail along river Alakananda to reach Rudraprayag which is the confluence of rivers Mandakini and Alakananda. Then the parties takes the left hand trail along river Mandakini and moves upward touching Gupta-Kashi, Kund and Trijugi Narayan, Gaurikund and reach Kedarnath.

All this hardship just to go and stand in front of a stone block?

The journey was so tough that many gave up halfway and return dejected, defeated. Then there were the attacks of diseases like measles, pox and cholera with no proper medical centre nearby some pilgrims even lost their life only to be cremated by their friends in the group. The death news reached their home much later.

A person who has successfully borne all the hardship and came back alive with a glimpse of Kedarnath was considered a person who has seen god and got his blessings. People would touch his feet to pay their respect to Lord Shiva. 

Reporting a Mobile Loss

I have been using a mobile phone for almost fourteen years and never lost one. Weather I traveled in a train, a crowded bus or fell asleep while traveling. Although I have seen people loose one. It naturally builds up a self confidence, My mobile phone cannot get stolen or lost.

Very recently I lost mine and cannot remember exactly when and where I lost it. It was when I came back home that I realized, it was missing. For security reasons in India you are supposed to report the loss to the nearest Police station within 24 hrs. This is to protect misuse of the mobile phone and to get a duplicate Sim issued from the mobile company.

Next morning I went to the nearest Police Station to register a complaint. The 10x10 feet room I entered had piles of files on the side racks, with film of dust on them. The room has not been painted in years, two bulbs lit up the otherwise dark room. About a dozen blank looking young guy's were made to sit on the floor against the shabby wall. Didn't understand if they were criminals or just held back for interrogation. There were two tables around which four duty cops were sitting on very old wooden chairs. They were in duty uniform but none of them wore shoes, all in their slippers. The wireless was going on, monotonously.

As I stood in front of a table one of them looked up and asked what I wanted I said I lost my mobile and wanted to register the loss. He pointed to another cop sitting on the other table, who was busy talking on the mobile.

I patiently waited for the cop to finish on the mobile then he turned to me "yes?"
I handed him the two copies of letter written in English. I did not expect the cops to get me back the lost mobile phone. Only need a received copy of the complaint letter from the Police Station to get a duplicate Sim. He looked at the letter and said "Get the letter written in Hindi"
I said I am not so good in Hindi writing and it is only a couple of line letter written in most simple English.
He said, "I have to read, understand and write a report in my register in Hindi, get it written by someone outside if you cannot" there was a register in front of him.
Then I requested if I can get a blank sheet? Then I may try to find someone to write for me in Hindi. His answer was "buy one from outside shop"
Well! very citizen friendly and helpful Police Force of Agra.

I was loosing my patient and asked the aged fat mustached cop "You are next to a world heritage site where thousands of foreign tourists come. If one of them comes here to lodge a complaint, will you ask him to first learn to write in Hindi and then pen down the complaint? It is most obvious they will write a complaint in English"

He stared blankly at me for a few seconds then he folded hands and said “I am sorry but I cannot accept your complain written in English.”
Hindi may be the National language of India but English is followed everywhere in Government departments, banks, post office etc.

I came back without being able to lodge the complaint then.

I was telling this story to a friend a couple of days later he smiled at me and asked "did you pay him some money?" I asked why I would have to pay money. My mobile got lost and I am not demanding it from them, I went to simply register it got lost.
He laughed aloud and said " They charge Rs.100/- to register a mobile loss!"

We surely must be living in heaven now.

Opening a Bank Account

After I moved into Agra, land of the Taj Mahal opening a local Bank account became imperative.

 I had all the documents required to prove I am an Indian citizen and was confident it would take a few minutes to open a Bank account with any of the Nationalized Banks.

With this confidence I walked into a Nationalized Bank with my documents to open an account. The Gunman sitting at the gate asked me what I want?  I said I want to open an account. He showed me a counter. It was afternoon and the shabbily dressed middle aged fat man behind the counter perhaps just had his lunch and was resting leaning back fully on his chair, as if, relaxing at home.  His huge fat belly bulging out. Few button of his pink shirt open showing his under shirt with the grey and black chest hair peeking out. 

Noticing me standing in front of the counter he glared at me from behind his black framed spectacles as though I was his age old enemy. He swung his head upwards with eyes opening further in a gesture to ask ‘what do you want?’ I said I wanted to open a new account.

Most reluctantly he bent down to pick up a waste bin and released all the reddish brown Gutka juice he has been so lovingly preserving in his mouth. Then chewing on the Gutka he asked me to come back tomorrow with the required documents, original and a set of photo copy and my passport size photograph. As he spoke I could see glimpses of his teeth with layers of beep brown Gutka pigments on it, reminding me the looks of   public toilets that are never cleaned.

I told him I have the documents with me right now, original and photocopies. Hearing this he stared at me for a few seconds as if, I have asked him to donate his Kidney and he is undecided whether to say Yes or No. He stretched his hand for my papers and I passed them to him. He put the papers on his desk and started checking them as if he had sniffed something forged might be there. Returning the papers to me he said “But you are not from Agra? “  So what? I am an Indian is that not more important?

“Whatever! You need a residence proof of Agra and an introducer with a Bank account here. He has to come here and endorse he knows you. Then only we will open your account.”

Rejected, frustrated or humiliated what was my mental state at that moment I don’t remember, I think all of them. Was wondering in a small under developed country like Nepal I could walk into any of the Bank and open an account just with my Indian Embassy Registration card. Photo copies also I did not need to carry as they did it in their own copier machine.

On hearing this bank episode my colleague said he will introduce me in his Bank but, the paper formalities remain the same. The next day we went to his Bank. A different nationalized bank but, closer to work. The branch was small with only a handful of staff. The person behind the account opening counter is a young smart lady, she is the only lady in the branch and also speaks English.

Documents verified and submitted, introducer has introduced me, money deposited, so technically account opened. But I was asked to come back the following day to collect my account kit. What time should I come? Anytime after 10 am. How long will it take? Just a few minutes the kit will be ready just have to sign and receive it. That’s Great! Work done.

Next morning I returned to the bank at 10 am. The bank has just opened and staffs were getting ready for work. The lady was sipping tea. She saw and recognized me, pointing to the seats meant for customer some 5/6 feet away from the counter, she asked me to sit. I had an important business meeting and wanted to be there in time so obviously was in a hurry.

After waiting for 10 minutes I returned to her to check.  She was doing something on her computer gave me the look of irritation and sternly but in a cold tone said ‘you will have to give me time, come here only when I call you’ as though class teacher talking to her student. In my mind I started back counting 10, 9, 8….. any argument will only delay things and I don’t want to spoil my mood as I have an important meeting to follow.

I sat on the customers chair looking at my watch almost after every few seconds. Suddenly the other middle aged bank staff sitting next to this lady started talking to me. Where are you originally from? I said I am from Calcutta. When did I come to Agra? Very recently.  Is your family staying with you here? Yes. What does your wife do? Home maker now. Which part of India is she from? USA.

The lady all this time had her eyes glued to the computer but her ears weren’t as she looked at me all surprised. ‘Is she N.R.I. (non resident Indian)?”  No White Caucasian, US citizen.

Now she joined the conversation with a flurry of questions- How did we get to know each other? where did we first meet in person? When did we decide to get married? Where did the wedding take place? Any objection from our parents? Etc etc

I had to carefully answer as I am not too eager to divulge personal details to people I hardly know. She took out my application papers from her drawer, went online, completed the formalities and the account opening kit was handed to me  within 5 minutes with an exclamation “Love is beyond boundaries”

That night on the dinner table I narrated the entire incident to my wife. She said ‘At least people give you priority for marrying a US girl!” and we both laughed loud.

Since that day every time I went to the bank I got a very friendly and helpful attitude from all the staffs. My work gets done super fast. The lady would be the first to greet me. She would take personal initiative to get my work done faster. Also she would enquire about my wife, How is she? Is she enjoying her stay at Agra? Which places in Agra have we seen? Etc

One day came a request from her, bring your wife with you some day to the bank, I want to get introduced to her. I could only smile in answer.

I still go to the bank but don’t meet the Lady anymore. She has been transferred to some rural branch far away from the city.