C is for Calicut: A Series of Vignettes

This post is part of the A2Z Challenge.

The plan to visit Calicut was laid on a Thursday night, and hatched the very next night. The brother-in-law works at NIT Calicut, and he had been inviting us to visit for a long time. I've been to the city at least twice before, and it had impressed me on neither of those occasions - the beach there is one of the dirtiest I've ever set foot on. But this time, the brother-in-law promised me a better trip. We left on a Friday night, in an over-air-conditioned white bus.

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The first I saw of Calicut district was through sleep-filled eyes on a grey Saturday dawn. Our bus was descending a hill, moving alternately through patches of dark forest and open air. When the trees weren't hiding the view, the plains stretched out beneath us. Mist still clung to mounds of greenery. We were at hairpin number 7/9, I saw. 

The road was well-maintained, and empty at this hour. Which was good, because the bus had to stop and reverse at a couple of the other hairpins. 

All too soon, we were at the base of the hill. The village had clearly been named by somebody imaginative - it was called Adivaram (Base of the Hill, in Malayalam). On we went at a reckless pace, and soon reached Thamarasseri town. It was then that I realized that we had been descending the famous Thamarassery churam (pass). It connects Wayanad and Calicut districts. I know very little Kerala history, but even I was aware that this was the pass through which Pazhassi Raja had fled the British. 

I found this wonderful photo of the churam online.

Pic Courtesy: Kerala Tourism Pages

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We had to get off the bus at Kunnamangalam, which is about twenty kilometers from the main Calicut town. Tiny though the place is, it's almost an educational pilgrimage town - IIM Kozhikode is situated here, and NIT Calicut is seven kilometers away. 

***

Rather than stick to Calicut, we decided to catch what we could of Wayanad district. Edakkal Caves, though not the closest of the tourist spots in Wayanad, was the obvious choice - it offered history, greenery and a nice trek. Off we went again through the churam. 

Wayanad is relatively unspoilt, and one of the most beautiful places in Kerala. The place abounds in home-stays and resorts. There are plantations aplenty, and enough and more tourist 'spots'. I've been to Wayanad twice before, but mostly in the north of the district. This time, we were in the southern part.

We passed through some of the places that I'd only heard of before, such as Vythiri (famous for its resorts) and Kalpetta (the district headquarters). We turned off the National Highway 212 at Meenangadi (the name translates as Fish Market!). 

But the Edakkal Caves post is another one altogether - wait for 'E for Edakkal' on April fifth. :)

*** 

On the return journey, we got stuck in a traffic jam. We had left Edakkal at three-thirty, and had unsuccessfully tried to get to two waterfalls on the way. We got lost on our way to the first one, and the second one was closed for entry by the time we got there - every one of these places apparently shuts down by five in the evening. 

So by the time we hit the churam again, it was almost dark. We had hardly reached the second hairpin when the traffic jam started - a long line of buses and trucks and cars, all standing stationary on the side of the hill. I thought there must have been some accident, but it turned out I was wrong. The traffic jam had been caused by the fact that buses and trucks need to reverse at least a couple of times to cross hairpins!

***

That night, tired though we were (especially the poor brother-in-law, who had been driving all day), we had to complete a ritual that is apparently mandatory for visitors to Calicut - having dinner at the Paragon restaurant in the city. 

So we traveled the twenty kilometers to Calicut (I happily fell asleep while the brothers talked family history). The restaurant is so popular that it actually had a long waiting line - though it was thankfully a fast-moving one. The food did turn out to be worth it, though. (Though we were told by a localite the next day that it gets addictive because they add ajinomoto. But I'm sure that's just a rumour.)

***

Continuing on the theme of food, breakfast the next day was horrible. We had some shopping to do in the city. The brothers seemed to not want breakfast, but I'm a firm believer in (and practitioner of) the 'Breakfast like a King, Lunch like a Prince, Dine like a Pauper' principle. So I grew hungry pretty quickly, and asked them to take me to the first restaurant I saw - a place called Sagar. Possibly because of the Shanthi Sagars and Sukh Sagars of Bangalore, I thought it would be a vegetarian restaurant, and dreamt of warm masala dosa and sambar. 

It turned out that Sagar is famous for anything BUT vegetarian. They had biriyani and porotta-non-veg curry combos for breakfast, for God's sake! And the place smelled like a butcher's shop. I suddenly realized that I was in the Land of Non-vegetarian Food. (At least one Tam-Brahm I know gave up his vegetarianism during his four years at NIT Calicut.) But seriously, how can anyone eat meat for breakfast? Gross.

***

The brother-in-law also took us to a temple near NIT Calicut. It's somewhere on the NIT to Kunnamangalam Road - a left turn along a rutted track so narrow that our car barely scraped through. But the place is worth it. A few hundred meters in, the path ends in a rice field. Though the rice had just been harvested when we went there, the place was exceptionally beautiful. I could swear that we saw every shade of green that day - from the light green of banana leaves to the dark green of coconut leaves.

Across the field, we could see the yellow walls and brown tiles of the temple. We couldn't go in, because they have a dress code (men have to be wearing mundu and women have to be in saris), but it was extremely peaceful. 

***

The return bus journey was eventful. Since we didn't want to travel twenty kilometers to Calicut city to catch a bus that would in any case be passing our way, we told the bus driver that we would wait in front of IIM Kozhikode. We waited suitcase in hand for almost an hour before the bus came long - at eighty kilometers per hour! It zoomed past us like the proverbial hare. We ran to the car, threw in the suitcase, and chased the bus on the highway, all the while trying to get through to the driver. He finally stopped a few kilometers ahead, and let us enter.

Apologies for the lack of pics of the place. We left the camera behind for the brother-in-law, and couldn't transfer the photos before leaving.

B is for Badami: Part 2 of the Badami Travelogue

This post is part of the A2Z Challenge.

Read Part One of the Badami Travelogue here. 

Badami was the capital of the Chalukyan Kings, who ruled a large part of southern India between the sixth and the eighth centuries. They came to Badami because of the natural defences it offered - it's a rocky ravine with a lake at one end, with tall cliffs for borders and a narrow opening in the west. Under the Chalukyans, it must have been a wonderful city, with temples galore.

Today, it's a squalid little hole in the wall. 

The first thing we saw when we got off the train at the Badami railway station was the herd of monkeys playing on the yellow fence surrounding the station. The station, a sleepy place at best, is about four kilometers from the main town. An auto took us through lands both green and stony in turn, and deposited us at our hotel. Just before we reached the town, a series of red hills rose up to our left - our first glimpse of the red rock that makes this land so beautiful. 

We were booked at the Maurya Chalukya - a pink monstrosity set in one corner of a large compound. It's a government-run hotel, though the prices unfortunately do not reflect that. The best thing about the hotel is that it's located about a kilometer and a half away from the cave temples. 

The Cave Temples

There are four temples - rock-cut and simple. They are located on one of the two cliffs that border the Badami ravine. Each cave is on a different level, with rocky steps leading up to the higher level. The Agasthya Lake stretches just in front of it. Facing it on the other side of the ravine is another steep cliff, which also has its share of temples - though these are structural temples, not rock-cut. 

A view of Lake Agasthya from the cave temples. Badami town is on the left. The  northern cliffs can be seen as well.

An ill-lit photo of the 81-posed Nataraja

The lowermost temple is Shaivite, while the next two are Vaishnavite. The uppermost cave is a Jaina temple. All the caves have exquisite carvings. The first cave is famous for the Nataraja depicting 18 different mudras. The third cave has a striking image of Vishnu, whereas the fourth cave has multiple images of the Thirthankaras. 

The cave temples seem to be popular with tourists. Since the entry fee for Indians is only Rs 5, there were entire hordes of school-children. 

A Good Hike

Next up on the agenda were the Shivalayas on the cliff on the northern shore of Lake Agasthya. Those with cars can choose to climb down to the town again and take another road which leads up to these temples. But since we had no vehicle, we opted to jump a back-gate and try our luck along the western edge of the lake. 

This area is full of houses. In fact, I would have called it a slum, except that all the houses were whitewashed and pristine white. It was very strange. The place was quite dirty otherwise - children defecating openly on the streets (we saw at least three), dirty boars running here and there, cows wandering along placidly. But every single house, no matter how tiny, was whitewashed. Maybe it was some initiative of the government? 

It turned out to be a good thing that we had decided to take this route. Otherwise, we would have missed the exquisite Yellamma temple. A signboard at the museum later informed that "the curvilinear shikhara of the temple represents the northern (Nagara) style." 

The Yellamma temple, on the western shore of Lake Agasthya

I bet most tourists don't even see this temple. While Nikhil was clicking pictures, I sat on the steps leading down to the lake, and watched women washing clothes. It was strangely peaceful, despite the rhythmic thwacks of the women slapping clothes hard on rocks. 

Continuing on, we thought we would get lost in the maze of houses, but we didn't. Helpful blue arrows magically sprang up to show us the way. 

Though Badami is more famous for its cave temples, I liked my visit to the temples on the northern shore better. These hills offer more of a hike for the interested traveler.

The complex begins with an archaeological museum, which is nice enough, though as boring as most museums are. Our biggest learning from there was the different types of structures of temples. There's Nagara, which is the North Indian style. There's Dravida, which is the South Indian style. There's Gajaprishtamatruka, which literally translates as Elephant's Bum Model. (I swear that's true!) These lessons were to prove useful a day later, during our visit to Aihole and Pattadakkal.

To the left of the museum starts the climb up the steep steps to the top of the hill. After passing under a fort wall (more on that later), the path winds between many tall red rocks, and is awe-inspiring - huge red boulders on either side, narrow ravines glimpsed through the rock. There are so few reminders of modernity that it's frighteningly easy to imagine people walking up and down the path a millennium and a half ago. What made them build these temples up there, I wonder. I think I enjoyed the climb more than I did the temples themselves. 

The Structural Temples

The first item of interest is a set of two Mandapas off to the left. It's easy to miss them, because the path leading to them is well-hidden. It's tough to traverse, because the path, though short, is very steep and narrow and leads through two boulders that are very close together. I don't think plump people would be able to go up.

A Distant View of the Mandapas

Next up is the Lower Shivalaya, off to the left. This place offers a view of the ugly Badami town, and is full of monkeys. A security guard stands there with a stick to ward off the monkeys. 

The Lower Shivalaya

The Upper Shivalaya is situated at the top of the hill, at the end of the hike. It's much bigger than the Lower Shivalaya, and well-preserved. The view from here is better than at the Lower Shivalaya, because the world beyond Badami town suddenly opens up for you. The place is very peaceful if you're lucky enough to go when there aren't too many tourists. We sat there and watched an entire troupe of monkeys move across the hill - singly and in pairs. 

The Upper Shivalaya

There is also a Muslim Dargah on the hill-top, a few hundred meters away from the Upper Shivalaya. This was clearly more recent than the temples, and there seemed to be active worship going on. Strangely, we saw a Shiva idol in the Dargah. A pipal tree provides shade to the dargah, and a troupe of monkeys guards it. They gave us the evil eye, but we ignored them.

Remnants of a fort can be seen all along the path up, from the initial wall entrance to some round menhir-like brick structures at the hill-top. These were built by Tipu Sultan, almost a millennium after the Chalukyans built and left behind their stone temples. Tipu made good use of the stony hills and built tall brick walls in the gaps between them. Some of these walls still stand, though most are in a state of disrepair (compared to the temples, at least). 

One of Tipu's Structures

The Malegitti Shivalaya 

The Malegitti Shivalaya isn't really part of this complex. We saw it from the hill-top, and it looked so picturesque that we just had to visit it. It's quite hard to find, though. We walked up and down the hill looking for it, and asked quite a few people. The problem is that so few people are aware of the place. When we asked for the Malegitti Shivalaya, most people pointed back up the hill, towards the Upper and Lower Shivalayas. 

We finally discovered that we had to walk down the hill almost till the vegetable market, and then take a right. This path led us through more white-washed houses, defecating kids and dirty boars, till we finally arrived at the Shivalaya. It seemed like an oasis, after the squalor we had just walked through. 

I liked this temple the best of the three. It used to be a Surya temple, before it was converted into a Shaivite temple. ASI seems to have gone to some lengths to landscape the area, and the red stone temple looks pictureseque against the greenery. And it was almost empty of tourists, since the place is so hard to find. This was the only one of the temples where we saw active worship. 

There are also the Bhoothanatha temple on the eastern shore of Lake Agasthya. But we were so exhausted by this time from our climb up and down that we didn't give it more than a cursory glance. There are some rock carvings here, as well as a Buddha statue inside a rock. 

A Frieze of the Nine Avatars of Vishnu

And so we were done with the Badami temples by four in the afternoon. After a short lunch of curd rice back at the hotel and some rest, we decided to go out for a walk and catch what we could of the local cuisine. Unfortunately, it turned out that Badami doesn't offer much in terms of cuisine. A coffee at a local restaurant tasted like it had been spiced with, of all things, jeera. The walk wasn't pleasant at all because the the place was so dirty. We hurriedly retired to our hotel and watched two troupes of monkeys playing on the trees in the compound. 

[Next up in the series - Aihole, the cradle of temple architecture in India.]

On the Chalukyan Trail: Part 1 of the Badami Travelogue

The Red Rocks of Badami

Ruined temples restored to their former glory. Red sandstone against the blue sky. Monkeys jumping from one tree to another, framed black against the dusk sky. Fields of jowar and sunflower. A few minutes of unexpected prayer inside a dark temple. A sunset of blue and orange.

These are the things I'll remember about the trip to Badami, the ancient capital of the Chalukyan kings.  It was the perfect trip in many ways, though it didn't begin particularly well.

A bad beginning, thanks to Meru Cabs

The best train from Bangalore to Badami is the Solapur Express, which leaves Yeshwantpur station at 7:45 PM and reaches Badami in twelve hours. It's a slow train when you consider the distance, but a convenient departure time and a convenient arrival time make up for the delay.

We booked our Meru cab for a quarter past six, calculating that traffic is always heavier on Friday evenings. Usually, Meru cab drivers call about fifteen minutes before the pick-up time, to confirm the pick-up point. We didn't receive a call. 

So we called them up, and were told that they had cancelled our booking. That's right - we had a train to catch in ninety minutes, and they had cancelled our only means of getting there. Without even bothering to inform us, whether by a call or a message. 

We would have loved to chew out their brains over it, but we didn't have too much time. So having promised to raise a complaint at the highest levels, we grabbed our suitcase and ran. 

Unfortunately, it's tough to find free autos around that time, especially those who'll agree to travel such a long distance. We finally found an auto twenty minutes later, at six-thirty. We told the auto driver to gun it. 

He said, "Sir, seven forty-five only no? Aaraam se." 

Despite ourselves, we believed him. After all, it was only eighteen kilometers from our house to the station.

Sitting in the auto, Nikhil fired off a tweet about what had happened. Since he has 7000+ followers on Twitter, Meru Cabs couldn't exactly afford to ignore him. Almost immediately, we received a call from  them - it seemed like the caller was some poor boy at some back-office. Nikhil explained what had happened politely (read: yelled at the kid) and ended with a rhetorical question, "How are we supposed to get to Yeshwanthpur station by 7:45 PM?" 

Believe it or not, here's the reply: "Sir, you can't."

Wow. Clearly, they need to train these kids better. Though I don't really blame the kid - his ears must have got burned by the kind of shouting he received.

Meanwhile, our tension levels were rising higher and higher. After all, we were in the middle of the traffic hellhole that is Bangalore on a Friday night. We got stuck in traffic jam after traffic jam, till even our auto driver's optimism started to wear out. To make matters worse, there was Metro construction happening all along the road leading to the station.

At seven-forty, we were stuck at the signal just before the Yeshwanthpur station. With luck, we calculated, we would be able to make it if we ran. So we waited for the signal to turn green. We waited. And we waited. And we waited some more. 

Incredibly enough, the signal just by-passed our road entirely - the signal for the road next to ours turned green for the second time. 

"Wow," I thought fatalistically, "Even the traffic signals don't want us to get on this train."

Our auto driver, who had become infected with our tension levels by this time, decided to just gun it, red signal or no. We joined a roaring honking stream of vehicles, all trying to enter the narrow road leading to the station. If you've ever been to that station, you'll know that the road leading to it is a sort of market, with shops on either side and vegetable carts right on the road. 

When we finally got off at the station entrance, it was 7:50 PM. By this time, Nikhil had started cursing everybody and everything - including the Meru cab guys, the traffic on the roads, even Bangalore city as a whole. He had almost decided to quit his job and start farming in some lonely piece of land in Kerala. 

We paid off the auto guy. He wished us luck. We RAN. 

Inside the station, we found our first piece of luck of the evening - the train hadn't left yet. Though Yeshwanthpur was the train's starting point and we were almost ten minutes late by this time, it hadn't left yet.

The bad news was that the train was on Platform 5. We ran all the way, with poor Nikhil dragging our heavy suitcase behind him. Up, across and down the foot over-bridge we ran, with people staring at us as if we were crazy.

8:00 PM - We actually made it. Breathless and panting and thirsty - yes. But we made it. We exclaimed over how unfit we had both become, and collapsed onto our seats. 

And thus began the Badami Trip. Next edition tomorrow!

A Carving on the Upper Shivalaya (Temple) in Badami

A is for Amen: A Movie Review

This post is part of the A2Z Challenge.

These days, it seems like every other new Malayalam movie features Fahadh Faasil in some role or the other. Not that I'm complaining, mind you. I've been a fan of the guy ever since I watched Chaappan Kurishu (I still don't know how that's pronounced). And the fan-dom is just growing with each new movie of his that I watch.

Amen is the latest of these. The story is set in a small village in Kerala, called Kumaramkari. Kumaramkari is your typical Kuttanaadan town, beautiful almost beyond belief. Water meets sky meets land everywhere. People travel around by boat. Petty rivalries abound, as usually does happen in cutoff places.

The movie follows several threads, all inter-connected. There is the love story of Solomon and Sosanna, which seems doomed - she is the daughter of a rich contractor, and he is the wastrel son of the late clarinet player of the church band. The church and its band form the other focal point. The church authorities seem corrupted by their power, whereas the band hasn't won the local band competition in many years, and seems unlikely to. Kumaramkari really needs a saviour, to rescue it from the mire it has fallen into.

Could it be that the new 'small priest' of the church is this saviour? Father Vincent Vattolly is dashing, looks faintly like a plump Jesus Christ, rides a Bullet, plays the guitar. His arrival in Kumaramkari throws everything into a turmoil.

So far, so good. Unfortunately, the movie starts to go slightly off-track from here.

The main problem with the movie is that there are just too many things happening. The director seems to love his characters and setting so much that he delves much deeper into their lives than he needs to - never mind if the viewers are interested or not. The movie could easily have been half an hour shorter without anyone missing anything.

The other annoying thing is the crassness. Amen starts off with a wonderful animated sequence featuring three cute angels and a foot-tapping song. Unfortunately, it then jumps into a sequence which ends with a packet of shit being splattered all over a crowded lunch table. Fart jokes abound throughout, as do people who like to throw chicken curry all over each other. The young men in the audience seemed to enjoy all these antics though.

Despite this, Amen is held together by three things - its wonderful setting, its church, and its music. The place is a cameraman's fantasy - lush greenery, grey backwaters, blue skies. Kuttanaad itself seems to be one of the characters in the movie. The church (which is introduced to us as the place where St George appeared in person to scare off Tipu Sultan's army) is also a larger than life presence throughout. And the music - it's fresh, foot-tapping, very different from the usual horrible stuff we hear these days. 

Every single one of the actors does a fantastic job. Fahadh is beyond brilliant - those who've only seen him in Chaappa Kurishu will have a tough time believing this is the same guy. (Those who've seen Natholi Oru Cheriya Meenalla won't have much trouble though.) Indrajith seems to have been born just to play Father Vattolly - he's that perfect here. Kalabhavan Mani seems to be trying to step into the void left behind by Thilakan - there's even a shot of him praying to a photo of Thilakan just before the final performance.

I also enjoyed all the pop culture references. Aside from the nod to Thilakan, the movie also features Vikraman and Muthu as two gundas hired to 'take care of' Solomon - complete with the original costumes! 

For a change, the female lead's character is strong - she can take care of herself. She's the strong one in the Solomon-Sosanna relationship. She even smashes Vikraman's face in with a frying pan! 

Amen is a love story to Kuttanaad and to a certain way of living. It's not fast or tightly edited, but it does relish the politics of small communities. It celebrates music - be it the energy of the band playing to a crowd, or the sad wailing of the clarinet on a full moon night. It puts a small village on a big canvas, and succeeds to a surprising extent.

So go watch Amen if you have some patience. Make sure that you're willing to sink into another world entirely without being tempted to look at your watch every half an hour - you'll enjoy it. 

****

Aside: I love the fact that Malayalam cinema seems to be climbing up out of the sinkhole it had fallen into a few years ago, when the superstars were picking the most horrible movies, and it seemed like the Golden Age was past. Misogyny seemed to rule in movies that called themselves 'family dramas'. Recent movies, part of the 'New Generation' or 'New Wave' or whatever it's called, feature fresh young actors and experimental directors. They are choosing to work on innovative scripts, and superstars are being rejected in favour of fresh faces. I really hope this trend continues. 

A2Z Challenge

A short post to say that I've signed up for the A2Z Challenge. I have to post 26 times in the month of April - one post per letter of the alphabet. The challenge starts off on April first, and I get Sundays off. 

The objective is to ensure that I do actually finish my February Resolution of posting a hundred times this year. I'm woefully behind on that front, so I'm hoping this will help. I have some travel plans for April, so I'm not sure I'll be able to completely stick to the resolution, but maybe some advance writing will help.

The worst part of the challenge will be, I think, coming up with topics to blog about. I have some ideas for the first few alphabets, but the later ones are still problematic. If you have something you would like me to blog about, let me know in the comments.

If you're an on-again off-again blogger (like me!) looking for some inspiration to kick-start an inactive blog again, I guess you could do worse than sign up for this challenge. They're trying to get to 1500 bloggers before the deadline. 

Of Books and Their Movies

Like many other book-minded people, I've always had the book-versus-movie conundrum. There are two parts to the conundrum:

1. Should I watch the movie adaptations of my favourite books? Suppose it ruins the images I've carefully constructed in my head of my favourite characters? Suppose - God forbid - the next time I read Pride and Prejudice, I can only picture Keira Knightley as Elizabeth Bennet? (Don't worry, it's just an example - Pride and Prejudice isn't one of my favourite books.)
2. And on the other hand, if I know that the movie I'm planning to watch next week is adapted from a book, should I read the book first? Since I'm a book person, surely I'm morally obliged to read the book before watching the movie?

Many bookworms do refuse to watch the movie adaptations of their favourite books. Personally speaking though, I have no such qualms. I eagerly look forward to movie adaptations, to see if the images I've constructed in my head match those conjured up by others. Funnily enough, I generally leave the hall happy even if the movie is terrible. (The first two Harry Potter movies come to mind, though Prisoner of Azkaban is both my favourite Harry Potter book and movie.)

The second question is more of a problem. I do generally feel that I should read the book before watching the movie. (That's one of the reasons I didn't watch Midnight's Children - I've tried a few times to read the book, and never gotten beyond Saleem Sinai's nose.) 

But once I go through the trouble of reading the book, the movie usually seems quite superfluous. I get impatient, knowing what's to come next. If the movie is especially faithful to the text, I even know what the character is going to say next, which makes it quite boring.

But good news! I discovered the answer to this question today. The answer is two-fold.

If you haven't read the book yet, don't read it at all. Or at least, wait until the movie is completely erased from your memory. 

If you HAVE read the book however, make sure that a few months elapse before you watch the movie. This way, you don't miss allowing your own imagination to construct the book's world for you. But at the same time, the details remain hazy enough that you don't feel impatient while watching the movie. 

I had this revelation while attempting to watch the first episode of the Game of Thrones series. The show is so faithful to the book that I kept judging the actors. (Why is it that they have adults playing the kids anyway? Is it because of all the nudity and the sex?)

And yet, I don't know how much sense the story would make to people who haven't read the book. So many characters and history. How can they grasp all the complexity without being able to flip back a few pages and refer when needed?

The best way is to have the basic plot-line in your head, so that the recesses of your memory light up one by one as the show progresses. At the same time, you're unable to anticipate what's about to happen. Think of it as walking through a long series of rooms with closed doors. Each door only opens up once you reach it, rather than having all the doors open, with you being able to see all the way to the last room at the beginning.

And hence the above method.

***

I know I'm behind the entire world and its grandma in reading/watching the Game of Thrones series. In fact, believe it or not, I resisted reading the books for a long time as well. That's quite strange considering that fantasy is my favourite genre. 

The reason for my resistance was the fact that my brother kept pushing the book at me, saying it was better than Robert Jordan's Wheel of Time series. That statement is pretty much guaranteed to put my back up; I love that series, despite its many flaws. 

So it was only in February that I read the first book. And then, of course, it's so addictive that the second book just had to follow. I've given myself a bit of a break at the moment, though.

So is the series better than the Wheel of Time? Well, if you force me to be strictly objective about it, I would have to say yes. It's about a hundred times better written to start with. George R R Martin does have the tendency to  go on and on and on, just like Robert Jordan. But at least the plot moves forward. And secondly, the characters. Oh my God, the characters. There are so many many layers to each character that you don't  quite know whom to support. For example, Tyrion Lannister waddled his way straight into my heart in the second book. And he's supposed to be a 'negative' character. 

But I don't know if I'm going to really continue reading the series. First of all, at the rate the books are currently being written, it will take George R R Martin another twenty years to finish the series. And I would much rather wait till the entire series is completed before reading them. Which is what I finally did with the Wheel of Time series. 

And secondly, the book is just so - violent. And I don't mean the beheadings and the random killing of innocent villagers. (In fact, one of my favourite things about the series is that Martin has no qualms about killing off important characters.) No, I mean the rapes and the way women are generally treated. Yes, I do know that the condition of women was quite bad during the Middle Ages, but still. The first few paragraphs of this post explain what I mean. (By the way, please do read the entire post. It's slightly haphazard and much too long, but it does make you think. And then there's the title, of course.)

Travels in 2013

The year 2013 has been quite exceptional for me so far in terms of travel. We're barely into the third month, and I've already had four memorable trips. In fact, the Travel Gods have been good to me not only in  quantity, but quality as well - all the trips were so different from each other!

The first trip was in the second weekend of January. It was a three-day weekend because of Pongal, so Nikhil and I went off on the Chalukyan trial - the cave temples of Badami; Aihole - often called the cradle of temple architecture; Pattadakkal - a museum of temples.

After a bare day's gap, off I went to Goa. Fantabulous food, shiny beaches, and - God - the sheer magic of Goa. I think I finally understood what it is to be a man in India - to not have judgemental eyes on you all the time, to not care about what you're wearing, to walk on a beach in the middle of the night with no worries.

The next trip was home. It was almost unplanned, to be honest. We were supposed to just enjoy the Kochi Biennale for two days and come back to Bangalore. But we got tired of the biennale on the very first day (it was SO HOT and HUMID - Bangalore seems to have spoilt us weather-wise), and scooted off to Kollam and the grandmother's awesome food. From there, we went on home to Trivandrum. And then ended up staying for a week because of the two-day all-India bandh.

And then last weekend, we went off to Delhi. The trip was ostensibly to collect my award for winning this competition. But my friends in Delhi have been wanting to meet Nikhil for a long time, and this seemed like the perfect opportunity. So I had three wonderful days soaked in nostalgia - meeting old friends from school and college, visiting Dilli Haat, street shopping in Sarojini Nagar, travelling on the wonderful Delhi Metro.

So history, beaches, home, nostalgia. A pretty good set of trips, don't you think? I'm planning a bunch of posts on these travels. In fact, a couple of them are half-way done. Let's hope I actually finish them this time around!