Lick!

It's not all - doom, gloom, monsoons, sewage water mixing with construction water mixing with rain water floods, mosquitos, red ants, black ants, earthworms, spiders, rats, holy shi*t gigantic rats, spit, snort, piss, cowdung, autos, exhaust, pollution, bumps, humps, pot-holes, ditches, cows, horses, camels, dogs, monkeys, snakes, typhoid, cholera, malaria, TB, Chikenguniya, Dengue, no electricity, no water, no WiFi, no phone - all the time.

For each day the 3.06 minutes it takes to finish two Kwality orange sticks, life seems delicious.

Tara's day out 2

We are guilty again of leaving Nisha home and taking Tara out to another one of my favorite childhood destinations. It's so easy to take Tara out these days, no diaper bag, no bottle feeds (she takes a bottle only at night), no stroller, no fuss. Frankly as I visit more of these kid-friendly places I don't think Nisha is missing out on much. Staying at home having your every need tended to by a dotting grand-ma and great-grand ma seems a darn good deal to me, I'm just saying.

Ok, where was I. Yes the outing, this time we went to Banerghatta National Park. When we used to go to the Woodland Park Zoo in Seattle (ah, the good old days) I used to often mock the animals as la-hey-zy. They would roam aimlessly and plop themselves in a comfy corner and, how shall I put this, procreate. I thought them to be a tad spoilt. I would often comment that we needed to take Tara to India to show her a real zoo with real animals that were active and fun to watch. I wanted to take her to Banerghatta!

So we set off to the Park in a cab which arrived 2 hours later than scheduled. Tara dozed off the minute we got into the car, thank God as the ride which normally takes 20 minutes took over 2 hours, and I could not have withstood her constant are-we-there-yet drone. A garbage truck had stopped in the middle of the road and caused a huge traffic pile-up, no one seems to mind this in India. People honk their horns louder and edge forward in their vehicles listening to the latest bollywood hits on full blast.

As soon as we entered the park a dude rudely pushed us into a line to the side of the entrance. He figured the first thing anyone does is go on the Majestic Animal Safari. We join an overcrowded mass of people standing millimeters apart in an extremely long line. The bars that zig-zag around are so closely spaced that at any point you have human contact on all 4 sides. As you get pushed forward you have to avoid eaten corn cobs, plastic bottles, straws, banana peels and spit (there was so much spit on the wall, I wonder how can you spit and not have it boomerang at you since there was NO SPACE between you and said wall). Adding to the uncomfortableness was a big asbestos sheet covering the waiting area, since it had rained, water was dripping through and the asbestos made it even more humid and sweaty. I wanted to turn back but once you are in the line, you are in the line with no way out!

We finally got into the worn-out bus and S wondered how that was going to protect us? Even he could knock it down with one hand leave alone an angry tiger. The windows of the bus were all grilled but each had a largish square cut-out in the center, a person could easily put his hand out and get bitten by whatever animal was trolling beneath (I later realized that it was cut so you could take pictures and not have grills show up in the pics, what a risk to take). We set off on the ride with Bollywood music blaring and the bus driver singing away merrily.

We enter the first section and see a whole load of massive ant hills, no animals. The next section we see two starved bears. They are so old and depleted that they don't even bother coming to the bus asking for food. We then enter the lions section and see one tired lion, we could count it's ribs, pacing up and down. By now Tara is getting restless, where are the animals mummy, where is Sher-Khan the tiger she asks? We enter the famous tiger section, we see a bunch of them roaming around and a majestic white tiger. Tara enjoys watching two cubs playing together and I think to myself this is the Park I remember. But my heart ached as I knew these cubs will grow up to be sad, depressed, starved, ill-treated animals all too soon.

That was the Safari, majestic I think not. This Park used to be filled with animals, only a handful remain. The driver drove like a reckless lunatic on the way back. He banked every curve on the narrow mud roads at what seemed like 100km/hour. I was all dude-why-the-rush and S promptly said - he probably wants to answer natures call! S was right, the driver didn't make it to a restroom, he stopped in the lions section got outta the bus and took a leek. No fear. As we drove back we passed poor people walking around in the guarded sections cutting branches to use as firewood, with no care about the prowling animals. Survival of the fittest in every sense of the word.

When we got out of the bus. Tara noticed a cow eating from a garbage bin. She mumbled so sad mama, I feed it some grass and headed off to do just that. My girl is learning.

July 20, 9:42pm

The kids were ready for bed. Both had been given their milk, Tom & Jerry was switched off, air conditioner was set to 24C, Mosquito repellent was sprayed and the comforter was unfolded. S was lying on the the bed watching Tara jumping on the bed, I was singing 4 silly monkeys and my Mom was arranging the pillows. Nisha was sitting quietly in the center playing with S's cellphone and in the softest possible voice mutters Mammah pause Papah. We all collectively stopped and melted into a mush around her.

Life is hard here but oh so very good. The end.

Park across the street

My father built his house right next to the one he grew up in. In those days the area was considered a wilderness - it was pretty far from everything and the only thing it was known for was a running track and a swimming pool which had a park in it. We used to come every holiday and stay a few days in the house dad grew up in and look at our home wondering why in the world he built it in this part of town. All we did was stare at a gigantic sprawling Rain tree in the park and run underneath it to feel rain drops on our face in the scorching summer heat.

How things have changed. The area has turned into a bustling locality as it's on the way to the IT town. It's crowded, traffic packed, animal packed, vendor packed, noisy and messy all at once. The one thing that has remained is that huge Rain tree. The park has been a boon to us, we take Tara to it everyday as it is literally across the street (if we can ever cross the street!). Parks and trees are a scarcity these days in Bangalore and we are very fortunate to have one that we can hop to and hop back if there is a sudden downpour of rain. My dad chose well.

Tara has made a good set of friends (3 boys and 2 girls) she as always is the youngest. Communication is a problem. None of them speak English, they learn a few words in school but mostly speak their native language. She has been exposed to Kannada, Tamil, Telugu, Marathi and Hindi. She is often puzzled at their speech and looks at me going Wha? I chase her and the boys around constantly providing translation services back-n-forth. Luckly they all understand Kannada which is the local language and I can speak that. They are learning more English thanks to Tara and she's, well, talking in gibberish to us.

She hangs out mostly with the boys as they monkey around, throw stones in the dirty mosquito ridden puddles of water, dig out earthworms with sticks, tug on the branches of the trees, pull the petals of the marigold flowers, use twigs as swords, chase the dogs yelling ruff-ruff and then run back when the dogs bark, break down ant hills and piss on the park walls. Tara is exhausted by the end and it gives her an outlet for her never ending energy. The boys who she has named Diego (Dilip) and Rahool(Rahul) fight over her and protect her. As soon as she arrives they run to her and give here their cars and batman toys to play with. The have figured out a unique language among themselves and enjoy their time together.

Every few days a new kid comes to the park. These are the NRIs(Non-Resident Indian). They speak English with an American accent, hold Spongebob sippy cups and wear Stride Rite shoes. Tara immediately runs to them and says Hi I'm Tara, what's your name? They give her a stare, hold their sippy cup even tighter and walk away. Tara frowns, pouts and then runs back to her buddies. The parents of these NRI kids struggle and make conversation with me, I see both envy (I've managed to return they haven't) and pity (poor me stuck in this chaotic country) in their tone. We talk about the cities in the US, the weather, the pollution and go our merry ways.

My best friends have become the geriatrics. All the kids come with their grand-parents, I am the only mother in the park. Everyone is so busy making money that kids are brought up predominantly by their fatigued grandmas. They sit on the benches and gossip about long IT working hours, how daughers-in-law don't cook and how the recession has hit the US. They advice me on what to feed the kids, what Hindu shloka's to teach them and pride in the fact that I made the journey back to India. Mostly they are grateful that I chase after their grand-kids so they can catch a breath.

We are pretty popular - we're known as the girls from Seattle. One day while I was stopping Tara from flinging mud an old lady came up and said in broken English "Neevu Seattle inda nah? My son worked there. He lived on some island, it was 4houses down from that man who started Micharowsaft. The house faces a big lake. I don't like lakes they are not safe. My son got citizenship and come back. I like him to stay here, it was very far to visit, I am old. It rain too much in Seattle, very lonely in rain. India thanks you for coming back." She continued on her evening walk while I stood there, stunned.