Thursday, 26 December 2013

Amblingindian scores in Germany..

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Devyani K - please stand up...

Devyani K - the diplomat vs Sangeetha - the maid: An unusual case
Do I make any sense of the Devyani Khobragade episode? Not yet. Not even with the entire Ministry of External Affairs, some Indians, press and bystanders rooting for her. Not withstanding the support she has gathered. There seem to be enough people commenting about issues from her murky past, her fake "Damsel in distress " pleas, and her atrocious behaviour, and harbouring plain disgust, even calling her a Devi(em . Devil) in disguise.

Enough and plenty has been written about her and shared on the TV channels to portray her as a victim, and on the other side, her murky past raises a lot of questions too -
Cornered a flat in the prestigious Adarsh society, meant for war widows, on the basis of lies,
Cornered the choice of language in the IFS exam by bending the rules, grossly undervalued properties declared in her annual return, etc etc. the list goes on. And topping the charts are the cases slapped by her on Sangeetha Richard, the maid. Whatever be the treatment Devyani received at the hands of the NY police, will be nothing compared to what she has kept in store for the poor maid. (Non bailable arrest warrant as soon as Sangeetha enters India? Whatever for ? Using pure muscle and influential tactics? And who dares talk about this? )

Another interesting snippet comes out of reading the entire case. Devyani's husband, who has largely been quiet , apparently made a trip to the NY police to report that Sangeetha had stolen from their house. When asked which items were stolen, he said that he will have to check. He never came back to file the complaint. Now, if that doesn't smell of planted seeds, then what does? Also, do note that he has been quiet after, not making any statements, like her father does, almost on a daily basis. I dont know whether to infer that the husband is a law abiding citizen, perhaps ashamed of the whole affair.

Now, i don't know either of the women , Devyani or Sangeetha, or their relatives . All i know is what i read everyday. And i hear Uttam K( the father) speaking out,saying "Sangeetha is a CIA agent". Well, if she is a CIA agent, then I may be the "Queen of Sheba" too. And if she is a CIA agent, Mr K, then surely, India inc should file a case against Sangeetha , why do you need to do that ?

The case gets murkier by the day. And some sensible questions being asked too.. Devyani wants full immunity, pray why? If she is not guilty,why not fight the case in court? Anyway, all the bills for her lawyer and bail are being picked up by the Indian tax payer. And what does the taxpayer expect in return ?

A honest explanation , so that other Indians are not tarnished by the episode. A withdrawal of all the nonsensical cases filed in India against Sangeetha. A return of the Adarsh apartments, wrongly claimed. A statement of properties owned by her that is based on a correct valuation and an explanation of the sources of income. If these were inherited from her father, then an explanation of how the father acquired these.  And if , all these don't happen, can anyone be blamed for assuming that the whole persona of the "D" lady is based on a web of deceit and lies ? Will the real "D" please stand up and take ownership for what she owes to India?

The puzzled amblingindian.

Saturday, 14 December 2013

The rise of Babudom

The ugly monster of "Babudom* is rearing its head all over again. And this time round, it has spread its tentacles further, getting more daring by the day.
No matter which office i go to, a bank, Post office, or even a private telecom company, armed with all the mountains of proof that i can muster, I only find myself returning dejected, for, invariably , the incorrigible "Babus** " would have found something amiss. A spelling mistake here, a middle name omitted there, or an address that makes no sense, all errors made by another set of incompetent "Babus ", who chose to make my official Aadhar card (identity  card) address as "Bangalore North", when i live nowhere beyond the South of Bangalore.

Aina - deep in thought, trying to navigate Babuland
The part that would be hilarious, if it weren't so irritating, is the attitude of the private sector "babus" who chose to clone the public sector ones. Each time i go there they have another lame excuse up their sleeve, like "Govt regulations ", to find another way of rejecting all the paperwork which makes perfect sense to me, but never to them. Almost as if they wanted to say "Never mind, we really don't need business - give us bureaucracy instead".

So, inspite of all my pleas to reconsider, the documents must fail the tests of these babus, so cleverly convoluted each time , that it is impossible to work a way out of the maze. As mazes go, this one of finding my way through Babuland , takes the no 1. spot, to be feared by all maze breakers and puzzle solvers alike. How can you ever get a combination of ID, address, photo, marriage certificate and the like, to ever meet their lofty standards? And if, by sheer luck, you manage to make it past the first goal post ( also known as Know Your Customer), you will invariably fail the signature test . As your signature cannot change even by the minutest over so many years of existence, and, if it has, too bad, as you are now relegated to the deep dungeon, to be in a hellhole with other lowly mortals, who can never , ever get past the bar of identity proof. And so, defeated, you resign to your fate, your destiny of never crossing the finishing line of babudom.

The only silver lining, you can console yourself, that you only came away defeated,unable to reach the goal of acceptable documentation, but thankfully, had your modesty ( or honour) preserved, by being spared the groping and lecherous behaviour sometimes meted out by other incorrigible babus**, in addition to the raft of non - stop requirements.

So here i retreat into hell, defeated but still holding my head up, for being spared molestation, at least of a physical nature. To hell with Babudom , i say!

Aina Rao, the amblingindian.

*Babudom- the anal behaviour of officials when it comes to any govt transaction, making citizens run from pillar to post for unwanted documents.
*Babus - Officials
***A recent incident reported where an official of the Govt office (FRRO) harassed an Italian tourist seeking a visa ,by repeatedly asking for documents that didn't exist (marriage certificate when she wasn't even married ) , then for a bribe, and finally molesting her .  The official is now behind bars and  all is not lost, I hope, in the war against babudom.

Friday, 29 November 2013

Shame on you Shoma

The Tarun Saga is nearing its logical conclusion. Tarun goes behind bars ? Waiting and watching with bated breaths to see what happens next. But, in all this drama, what of Shoma? Is her resignation good enough ?
Should she not be behind bars as well, to have circumvented the law , with her clever ploys to ignore and slander the complainant ? If not anything else, Shoma , you are a disgrace to womankind and humankind. Not just a  rude and downright uncivil member of society. Do you realise, you have done an immense injustice to the woman in question, and also to the cause of humans at large. A woman feels safe when she can talk to another one, especially about matters so private, so personal, so humiliating. And what does she expect in return? Empathy, at least.  Being a woman yourself , the least you could have done was to recognise her complaint and act on it. Not take sides, just institute an enquiry, as the law demanded, and as common concern would have . But no, you chose the circuitous route , to dodge the law, for what joy, pray?

Please , fellow peoples , the next time another one of our tribe follows the "Shoma Law" please do not spare them. Do not let them get away with just resignation or recluse as some even more clever people call it. Ostracise them , boo them , bully them and send them behind bars. For that's where they belong.. For the cause of womankind.. for the cause of mankind.. Lets do it now.

Regards ,
The enraged amblingindians .

Shoma Law  - the new law perpetrated by Shoma, the MD of Tehelka, who chose to ignore the staffer's complaint of sexual harassment, blatantly violating the law that demands an inquiry. Instead she chose to ask questions in public that insinuated the staffer, and led to her resignation. Thankfully, Shoma has now resigned too.  The views expressed in this post are purely those of all enraged people out there, and not anyone's personal views.

Thursday, 21 November 2013

Bye bye O'Queen

Farewell to the Queen Mother.. back to Mother India, enroute Dubai .. missing this place, even as the temperature dips, the wind howls, and memories fade..

The flight comes in to land, after what seems an eternity. The sun is streaming through.. aptly, we touch down at sundown, the warm rays of the sunset envelope me, and India seems to welcome , with all her warmth ..

Bye , Bye , london.. will miss you for now..

The amblingindian.

Friday, 1 November 2013

Halloween comes to Bangalore

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The festival of lights

Here comes Diwali, the festival of lights ,
When the lamps around shine so beautiful and bright;

Here's to a happy, colourful, safe and fun- filled Diwali,
Have loads of fun celebrating with all Friends and Family...

Aina Rao
The amblingindian.

Tuesday, 22 October 2013

And so it was ...

The Day of Karvachauth*.. An acid test of a day long fast for the husband's long life, so willingly taken by many "pativrata**" women.
A small quirk though- the trend may be reversing, with Raj Kundra openly declaring his fast for his wife " Shilpa Shetty". 
Kudos Raj!!
A Challenge - who else is " ma(r)d  " enough to fast for his "wife's long life"? 


The Amblingindian

* Karva Chauth- a day long fast observed by some Hindu women , for their husband's long life - this day, the 22nd of October, 2013. Celebrated with mehendi (  henna) and a ritual of prayer .

**Pati - husband Vrata - a person observing a fast
Mard- Man 

Also read the post on Msn-

Mehndi Designs patterns

Tuesday, 24 September 2013

A Happy amblingindian moment

A happy amblingindian moment.. 
coming up this weekend, on the blog. Keep reading  and sharing 
Thank you all ,
 Aina Rao

Friday, 6 September 2013

The Great Rupee Rescue

The rupee on a free......faa.....aa.......l, 
a Damsel in  Deep Distress!
Dr Rupee Rajan, thankfully, takes charge.
The situation is dire, 
Needs urgent  redress ...
Dear Dr Rupee Rajan , do show your gallantry,
by riding to her rescue....


The amblingindian

Thursday, 22 August 2013

The Great Rupee Circus

The rupee just went into free fall. But , hold on, say the authorities nee.. soothsayers , there's no need to panic. No panic Mr Authorities? Salaries just dropped by 40% , in absolute dollar terms. But , we shall not panic, after all the assurance, in lieu of  action. So what if  oil got any dearer ?We could ride bullock carts instead, and go back to the bullock cart economy.

Why should anyone panic? Just watch the tamasha* as others are doing, watch the circus in action as the acrobats swing around and the rupee keeps fa..a..aa.aa.ling.Think of the positives. the elections just got cheaper, in swiss money terms that is. So our collective savings account balances with the Swiss banks will stay high, inspite of an expensive election coming next year.

And no more "phoren" holidays. People can see more of their own country, maybe venturing as far as the Andamans and Nicobars. No need to fabricate airline tickets or boarding passes to claim a certain antiquated tax exemption called the " Leave travel allowance" , which, sadly, only applies for "domestic" travel. This time round, people can actually travel "domestic" and claim it, instead of travelling " phoren" and then having to fabricate the AIR India Boarding passes**. Well done , authorities, watching by the sidelines. The circus goes on...


Aina Rao.
The amblingindian.
* *For the benefit of those who did not know, a new type of scam where some employees travelled " Foreign or Phoren" and forged domestic airline tickets to claim  leave travel tax exemption, only allowed for "domestic - or within India travel"

Thursday, 8 August 2013

Have a Happy Eid

Eid is here , the festival of cheer
A month of gruelling fasts, ended at last 
Eid mubarak, Happy Eid..
To all Amblingindian friends and fans , across all lands..

Aina Rao 
The Amblingindian

Sunday, 4 August 2013

A happy friendship day

To all Friends of the Amblingindian:

Your reads, likes, comments and shares inspire the amblingindian, everyday.

Wish you all a very "Happy friendship day "! Do continue reading and sharing, and for those who want to share their wisecracks and witticisms, you are always welcome. Will post original WnWs with credit to the author .. 

Regards, Aina Rao.

The amblingindian

Thursday, 1 August 2013

A state of Existence

Telangana is now declared official.

The brand new, 29th state of India, carved out of another. The long standing agitations, dissent and discontent, all quelled by one more masterstroke of the UPA Govt. " Yes to Telangana. Lets go for it. Absolutely!" No need for more laws,  roads, or governance, what we need are more ministerial berths, cabinet seats and what have you. More elections to win, or at least to contest. More avenues for amassing ill- gotten gains, for stashing away kickbacks. At least, more people who can get their fingers into the pie, for the pie itself  is now sliced many times over.

And so we shall progress,  along the road from independence, multiplying by dividing, in an ameobic fashion. Go back to parasitic roots. Proliferate. Create more states. More states of confusion and chaos, at least. Sod the EU models of harmonisation. Unity we don't need, diversity we embrace. The more of it, the better. At least, as long as we can stay diverse, and disparate.

And so, I have resolved, let me create my own state of confusion, Let there be further division, at a state, district, city, village, street and even house level. All is welcome. why not? My house is my state, and I shall have my own elected Govt. here. Be my own chief. Form my own cabinets. Get all kickbacks back to me. No sharing, no consolidation business here. Each house, a state in its own right, does not need to be part of any other , right? Subservience to another state? No way! I shall even levy my own taxes, sod all others.

Here's a toast to the eternal Indian states of my house, the states of joy, exhilaration, confusion and chaos. The genesis of the amblingindian state, literally!


Aina Rao
The amblingindian.

More on Telengana :

The post also on msn :

File:India Telangana locator map.svg

Friday, 26 July 2013

Walking along the Thames

It’s been a glorious British summer . I’ve seen it this year, the sun bringing lots of happiness and then Andy Murray, the Wimbledon Crown, and the baby prince bringing even more .  A warm feeling envelopes, as I walk on the bridge, across the river, soaking in the night life of this place that was at one time home, that I have come back to.
Walking along the river Thames, life feels so still and calm. Lilting strains of the guitar rise from the ripples in the water, as if someone were playing the notes on the water itself. Humming to myself  " Te amo, te amo, you are the dark,you are the light ",  I look .  The beautiful bridges allow an unbridled view of the river, the HMS Ispaniol docked so serenely, the blue lights of the eye smiling benevolently at the waters, a boat sailing past, so peacefully.
The city lives  passionately  here.  People  painting, singing, kissing, wanting to get so much more from their lives. But I, am content, finding my peace, just drinking in the beauty of the water, of the lights around , the soft and gentle breeze tousling my hair .
They say water is life. This water, is certainly that, shimmering and reflecting , in so many hues of pink, yellow, silver and violet, the life of the city that is so  irresistible!
Aina Rao.
The amblingindian
Facebook page : amblingindian
July 2013.

Sunday, 21 July 2013

Wednesday, 3 July 2013

amblingindian nuggets on life - on daughters

One day she may be a mother, a grandmother, a wisened or withered great- grand mother even, telling stories to her own young ones.
One day, she may belong to someone else. Someone, who i hope will love her, as fervently as i do, even more so, someone who cherishes her sweetness, her  softness and preserves it for as long as it can be.

But for today, she is my own little one, so gentle, her hands  soft like velvet, her skin smooth like silk, her eyes so full of glint,  her mind so full of questions. "Mummy, why is the heart more important than the brain?" "Because, my sweety, the heart rules the brain", and you rule my heart.

Dear daughter, I love you more than love itself, and for today , you are my love  and only mine.

If only love could be bottled, and preserved for ever, just the purest of mother's love.

Aina Rao
The amblingindian.
22nd Aug, 2013.

Thursday, 20 June 2013

Bye, Bye, Dear Telegram

Bye, Bye, Dear Telegram 

The telegram is now officially dead. Regarded for many years as the harbinger of really important  news, both good and bad,one looks back, sometimes with joy,  other times  with dread, when one thinks of the telegram. A relative lost, a job gained, a birth or a celebration, all warranting a time consuming trip to the telegraph office, to get the message to near and dear ones, in the days before the arrival of the ubiquitous gadgets , that we now know as phones, pods and tablets. 

It seems , as time goes by, that I am indeed lucky to belong to this generation of people who has experienced the slow, languorous way of living, with no pressure on time , to find myself now catapulted into the exciting world of fast games, racy cars, joysticks, and what have you, all available at the press of a button, or a fingertouch even. 

And so, I have moved, as has an entire generation of old- timers, from the good ol' world of waiting , to the world of instant gratification. From the time when a telegram was a luxury, and a telephone, decadence.And have been fortunate enough to have traversed two worlds of existence, in one lifetime !

Aina Rao
The amblingindian.

Thursday, 13 June 2013

Happiness in the mirror

Happiness in the mirror
It was exactly 20 years ago. A new graduate, about to join my first job, waiting at the Victoria Terminus ladies waiting room. 

A lady walked in, peddling raisins . Something was different about her. I looked , and then i saw. Her legs were halved , kind of only upto the knee. She walked on these, maybe somewhat stumpish a walk, but managed to hobble along . Somewhere along the way , she looked at me and asked - did i have a mirror ? She needed it to position a small bindi on the centre of her forehead. I found a small compact, an old one , and handed it to her. She wanted to give it back . I gestured - she could keep it. Really, she asked ? "Dont you need it?" " No, I don't. Keep it".
I walked out of there to my first job, glowing with reflected happiness. She did not need to struggle to reach the wall mirror anymore. A small mirror, that reflected her joy, said it all.
Twenty years later, it came back in a flash " Aina - a mirror" . They say, what you sow, you reap. Maybe, twenty years back, I sowed the seeds of happiness in a tiny mirror.

Today , it comes back to me. Makes me so happy, when i write , masquerading as Aina , the mirror.

Aina Rao facebook: amblingindian

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Wednesday, 5 June 2013

Amblingindian nuggets on life - on ego

It feels so much lighter to travel around without an ego. Feeling light as an ant, who dilligently carries out her chores , without a shred of worry , or pride. Looking  at the ants, their neat little patterns moving  through my garden,  steadily towards their goal,  feels so humbling. In the realities of the cosmic creation, we may all be ants , our life spans being so miniscule in a universe spanning millions and gazillions of years.  Bowing to the lofty ants, feeling so uplifted. Without a care in the world, and most importantly , without the unwanted heavy duty  pride, the e-go, way to go..

Aina Rao ( the amblingindian)

Thursday, 30 May 2013

A shower of flowers

The heat of the summer. Hot winds hitting and lashing at us as we step outside. A short journey to my favourite place, Tippasandra, with its  narrow lanes and bylanes, picturesque little houses, leafy green shrubs and magnificent trees, is always welcome. Forming a canopy over both sides, the trees shelter and protect us from the harsh elements. And now that summer is here, they have burst open, ushering in a flowering carnival of pinks, fuchsias, violets, mauves, bright yellows and the ever-so-soothing white flowers.

A feast to my eyes. I  gaze up and a rain shower erupts. A delicate shower that drenches us in yellow. Even more in awe, the kids scramble to collect the beautiful yellow flowers that are falling on our heads like little blessings from heaven. An incessant drizzle of yellow, raining from the trees above. A carpet of gold forms  .I look for their names. No one seems to know - the nondescript, bright yellow bounties. Aloha, maybe? They certainly look like aloha flowers. Never seen anything like this shower before. Another wonder of the world? I am in the midst of something so precious, so beautiful, an absolute joy of creation.

An aloha shower? Halleluiah!! 

           Aloha flowers

Monday, 20 May 2013

The journey - the destination

  The life of  Hampi *

I gaze out of the window. A vast swathe of green and blue greets my eyes. As far as I can see, rolling sugarcane fields, lush banana plantations, palm trees, lilies gracefully dot the blue waters. My mind floats, on the stillness of the lily filled lake, with the beautiful bamboo branches that bend and sway so effortlessly, almost dancing to the tunes of the breeze.
I sit back, and think of the times, many hundreds of years ago, when people of a different era, inhabited this place, led their lives, as we do now. And I wonder what their lives were like? The very lives that left behind only vestiges of stories, through boulders and intricate carvings on stones , just shards of imagination and nothing more. And wonder, what will it be like, many hundreds of years later? When all of us, and our little souls in this vast universe, have left for ever, leaving perhaps only the faintest of imprints. What will those people who may come to see, know of us? From the many buildings they see, what would they know about  our dreams, our desires, and our innermost feelings?
As if on cue, the sun bursts out, in a hue of orange, before settling down finally for the day, bidding its byes. The undulating shades of yellow, green and brown plantations, never to end.. fade slowly until they disappear for the night. Bordering them, the ruins of Hampi lie silent, their calmness restored, silent spectators to years of merciless plunder and loot, mindless violence and destruction of beauty. And the beautiful plains, their glory regained, intrigue us again and again with their dignified silence, still hiding so many stories.
 All is quiet, the end of a beautiful holiday, a short and a sweet trip to Hampi, precious time spent with friends and family, people with whom I share a history of many years, so dear to my heart, even though an insignificant eon of time in a vast universe, with an attempt to rediscover some of our very ancient past  . Ending with an eventful train journey back to Bangalore and to life as we know it today!

Aina Rao -the amblingindian
19 May 2013, Hampi,, Karnataka, India.
*Hampi- a world heritage site, source ; Wikipedia.
Hampi  is a village in northern Karnataka state, India. It is located within the ruins of Vijayanagara, the former capital of the Vijayanagara Empire.
The first historical settlements in Hampi date back to 1 CE.
Hampi formed one of the core areas of the capital of the Vijayanagara Empire from 1336 to 1565, when it was finally laid siege to by theDeccan Muslim confederacy.[1] Hampi was chosen because of its strategic location, bounded by the torrential Tungabhadra river on one side and surrounded by defensible hills on the other three sides.
The site is significant historically and architecturally. The topography abounds with large stones which have been used to make statues of Hindu deities. The Archaeological Survey of India continues to conduct excavations in the area, to discover additional artifacts and temples.
Predating the city of Vijayanagara, it continues to be an important religious centre, housing the Virupaksha Temple, as well as several other monuments belonging to the old city. The ruins are a UNESCO World Heritage Site, listed as the Group of Monuments at Hampi.[1] The name is derived from Pampa, which is the old name of theTungabhadra River on whose banks the city is built. The name "Hampi" is an anglicized version of the Kannada Hampe (derived from Pampa). Over the years, it has also been referred to as Vijayanagara and Virupakshapura (from Virupaksha, the patron deity of the Vijayanagara rulers).

Hampi monuments 

Zanana palace - Hampi

  The train journey home

It appeared to be an uneventful train journey back from Hampi. But what should have been uneventful became quite interesting. To start with, all the seats were scattered all over the coaches. So, the kids and the adults being in disparate places, one had to go through some rather intriguing situations with fellow passengers ,the Ticket Collector and other characters to arrive at a combination or a permutation that suited us all, finally settling into two coaches, far apart, but at least joined by a vestibule.
And with some clever ideas of retractable coach partitions being mooted by us IITians, mostly to suit our own privacy requirements, none of which would ever have any hope of getting any credence with the railway authorities, we finally settled into our ritual of fun and banter, over a drink or two. And the night flew, each regaling the others with stories from the past, of days when we spent many a nights travelling through trains , over the length and the breadth of the country, waiting in waiting rooms , to catch connections, and reaching home, grimy and tired, for the trains would do that. Shake you up, proper.
 But for me, the trains always bring back the excitement and the sadness of coming back, growing by the minute, as I waited for the stations of Wardha and Sonegaon to pass, heralding the arrival of the place I called home, Nagpur. Invariably waiting for the sight of the airport that the train crossed, which carried so many precious, indelible memories of going there with my father,  to drop him off for his journeys, one of which he never returned from. 
Nothing has changed much over the years, though my train journeys have now become less frequent, with the occasional one being performed more through curiosity than necessity and a sense of wanting to hold on and experience the past, with my daughters now. And somethings, sadly don’t change at all. The same narrow berths, the same beddings ,the noisy ACs and the fans , grimy windows, little distractions to what seems an unbelievably beautiful landscape of India, bushes , lush paddy fields, meandering rivers, placid lakes and others, not much visible  though the tinted windows.
And some more engineering thoughts came to mind. Some of which have been realized, like the mobile phone pouches which they have so thoughtfully placed in the coaches now. Designed as pouches but sometimes ending up as holed chutes leading the mobiles to land elsewhere. And the complete lack of a safety grill for the little ones that I had to now make up with the help of luggages and strolleys, placed as barricades to stop the young ones from falling down. Even so, all the engineering in the world could not work when it came to the side berths where there was no hope of fitting even the smallest of briefcases, and so, it had to be a long bed sheet tied across the berth, into a longish pouch, anchored with the help of only curtains. A Scarlett O’Hara++ approach, making the best of curtains that were so amply available, with the hope that it would catch the little one, if she ever rolled over from the narrowest of sleeping berths.
And so it turned out be an eventful night with friends and fun, old times, stations and passengers arriving at all odd hours, scuttling even the faintest hope of catching any sleep. And one finally gave up, in-between guarding the kids, accommodating the fellow passengers and reliving lost memories, the journey itself becoming the destination.
Aina Rao - the amblingindian
20th May 2013. Bangalore , India .

++ Scarlett o'Hara - the protagonist of Gone with the wind, who uses her curtains , in times of dire distress , to design a beautiful gown.

Hampi temples 

Friday, 3 May 2013

Being the new Baba - Barbie

Image result for ped wale baba
pic courtesy :


Disclaimer : All names and characters used are purely fictional. any resemblance to real persons is purely coincidental.

I  had always thought that  a baba ( Godman) was a kind of a recluse, white, orange or yellow robed figure, a mendicant of sorts, who traveled places with just a stick and a potli(a bundle of belongings) in tow, whom people ran to for solace in times of distress and generally when they had nothing better to do. Babas being the conduit to heaven, the next best things to God , they were (and continue to be ) hugely popular.

I may have been wrong. The babas , Godmen, Swamis  and others seem to now be  the ultimate celebrity  incarnations one could ever hope to be.

When i saw Professor Baba Shiv speaking from Stanford business school today, dispensing one minute business insights , and that too on you-tube, I was speechless. Babas at B- schools ? Babas are going online, social and viral too. No longer the dhoti clad , living under a tree , or sometimes on it ( Ped- wale-baba meaning the- tree- baba), kutte- wale -baba  meaning the Dog-loving- baba types. those might be soon going into extinction. We now see  a new generation of babas. called the facebook babas, the media- savvy-babas, who can dispense nuggets of wisdom in the same breath as buying up entire islands in Scotland , striking contorted yoga poses, jetsetting, rolling in gold and precious stones, and also creating vibhuti ( sacred ash) from thin air.

These babas are certainly a force to be reckoned with, not to be taken lightly. I dare not belittle them for fear of being turned into ash. But i can aspire to be them. Nothing wrong with that, right? I can't aspire to be the swami variety, for i have no desire or even the Casanova profile needed to fit that image , a la  Swami Kamasutrananda . And therefore, since being a type of a swami is somewhat tough , I will stick to the Babas or Barbys rather, and to make it look even better, shall rebrand and relaunch someday as the " Barbie Ramadevi *" amalgamating ,in an amblingindian way,  two of the undoubtably most popular creatures on the planet. Here comes the amblingindian, propagating  her nuggets on life, in a new avatar.

Watch out for the new Barbie Ramadevi*!!

Disclaimer : All names and characters used are purely fictional. any resemblance to real persons is purely co-incidental.

(* can be construed to be a close cousin of Baba Ramdev, a well known & respected figure . However she is not related to him in any way, in reality.) 

Tuesday, 30 April 2013

Love in the air!

Amblingindian nuggets on life - On love


Like the heady fragrance of jasmines  , love lives, somewhere,  in the air . It is so pure an emotion, one can never  see it, so lofty and weightless, one can only hope to sense it , somehow.
Perhaps that's where the adage comes from " When you love someone, show it!". Show it through a smile,  a touch, a gesture, a hug , a kiss. Show it all the time . Remember others can't see it. Love is in the air, floating around, can never be pinned down!!


Aina Rao,
The amblingindian..

Saturday, 27 April 2013

The Quintessential Middle Indian

Is there any such thing as a Middle Indian? Not the middle-aged or middle-of-the-road Indian, but just a simple Middle Indian? There may well be, considering the number of products of mixed northy and southy genes that you increasingly find nowadays. A species of people who can claim complete allegiance neither to the flamboyant north Indian style of living, with glitzy Rolexes and Rolls- Royces on perennial display, nor to the softer southern parts of the country, so proudly proclaiming their Kanjeevaram** silks, Bharatanatayam *graces and Carnatic music traditions.

Apart from the mixed species, I myself can lay claim to belonging to this variety of people, the Middle Indians namely, not by ancestry (being a pedigreed southy), but by virtue of having lived across the country, born somewhere in the middle, and having grown up in various parts, at different points in time. And therefore, imbibing what one hopes is the best of both, or all worlds, a veritable potpourri of culture, music, traditions, food, values and, most importantly, languages. But, considering myself to be modern, having rejected some of these as well, at least the traditions that seemed irrational, I could only hope to have filtered in what I thought was the best.

And today, being conferred the title of "Honorary member of the Rajasthani brood" inspite of my true blue southy blood, by none other than "hunny the hubby from the north indian  hindi heartland " himself ,  I can finally claim to be a native of "the Real Middle India", and to have officially arrived as the ''Quintessential Middle Indian'.

Hurrah  for all the Middle Indians!

Aina Rao,
The amblingindian

                                                                           * Kanjeevaram - a town in south India, known for its   silks
** Bharatanatyam - A classical dance of south India

Monday, 22 April 2013

Water, water, everywhere but...

Looks like a certain 'foot-in-the-mouth' disease is doing the rounds. With public servants being afflicted, making statements of the order of " Peeing is the best way to boost sordid water levels in the rivers",even the Amblingindian is not spared. The piece below being a sample of the result of this terrible epidemic.

Not a drop to drink.

Is water a precious commodity? Not really, if the 'public servants' are to be believed. For, there's plenty of it everywhere, so what if it's not in the taps or rivers, we all collectively have a lot stored up in our bodies, like in tears or pee even. And in true Mary Antoinette style, if we don't have bread, we could always eat cake, and extend that to water.So why worry about  dry rivers  anymore?

- Lets fill the clouds with tears,
  Lets fill the dams with pee.

  If there's no water to drink,
  There's always coke or pepsi.

  Why worry about the rain,
  When all the water will anyway go down the drain?

The Amblingindian.

Sunday, 14 April 2013

Caught on the sly

Finally, a picture of me..usually too shy to face the camera.. Can't remember what i was thinking, though. Amblingindian -a Monalisa smile?

Saturday, 13 April 2013

Silver , the new gold

Silver , the new gold
Image result for silver jewelry
pic courtesy:


Of late,  I have become a staunch admirer of silver. In a country which accounts for nearly one-third of the total world demand,  and gold is the universal metal to aspire for, how could this be?

A chance comment from an aunty –in- law ( bua /chachi /taiji/ kaki,  I can never get the real name , hence the generic  designation -aunty ) may have been the catalyst. For the lady in question, one of the matriarchs from the northern part of the country, described her culture shock in vivid terms, when she came to the south of this country, on one of her one – off jaunts, maybe a first time trip.  “ Lots of black people wearing lots of gaudy yellow gold", she went. Comments on skin apart( & I have always found black to be very beautiful  contrary to the popular view ,maybe  because I am a radical , also a contrarian at heart ), the statement did strike a chord somewhere. Gold, I realized, can be really gaudy , and gawky even at times. Visit the town of Madurai  and the Meenakshi temple there.  The street seems to have been bathed in gold. Your eyes may be hurt by the glare of the yellow metal  staring at you from every shop on the street, proudly displaying a glimmer of glittering ornaments .Some people actually find that inviting, so hard to resist that they end up hoarding the yellow stuff.  But silver? No such displays are to be found. It carries an understated elegance, a delicate, ethereal  feel, to say the least.
And that has led to my switch in toto. To my great joy, I have also discovered that silver comes at a fraction of the price of gold , so that I could potentially stock up on many hundreds, if not thousands of silver artefacts, jewels and the likes, indulging my senses completely , without breaking the bank. Thus began  my fascination with silver, which continues unabated.  Looks good at all times, beats inflation, and generally just feels good too.
Apart from jewellery, even nature seems to realize its value, as the precious years of wisdom, always translate into silver strands, and never to gold.  As for my silver medal, it is absolutely worth a lot more than its weight in gold.  Gold ? No thanks. Silver is right up there in my popularity stakes. Give me silver, anyday !

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Aina Rao