Attitudinal segmentation – the game of Chinese whispers in consumer decision making

A couple of days back we were at a team dinner , a whole bunch of 20 of us from the marketing analytics team. Someone came up with the idea of playing a game of Chinese whispers – a commonly known game where one person starts with whispering a sentence. The fun lies in the unintended distortion of the information as it is passed from one person to another - larger the group , higher are the chances of distortion. In one particular round , a colleague started off with a sentence which said ”Heaven is an American salary , a British house, an Indian wife and Chinese food”. By the time it had reached the last person , the final piece of information had an Indian salary , a motley group of British ,Italian and Japanese wives and a Chinese daughter thrown in for company.

So what was happening in this innocous game of whispers? Every single person was responding to an information signal differently (One of my team mates said he thought the information piece consisted of a Chinese wife because Chinese wives were pretty:)). Marketing space today is experiencing a similar game of Chinese whispers. In a digital world , the explosion of channels and information has put the balance of power in the consumers' hands. Marketers can no longer differentiate or control the information stimuli they want to use to influence different segments of consumers. And every single person will choose to react to the same stimuli in a different way.

Traditional marketing thought has revolved around the idea of consumer decision making occuring through a funnel process. In a world where information channels were limited, marketers constantly tried to reduce the number of potential brands that the consumer has in mind till they emerge with one brand that they choose to purchase. In the process what they built on is who to target , how to target and what to target through an understanding of segments based on an intersection of factors – mainly demographic and financial in nature.

Well, why doesn't the “funnel” hold today? Here is why:

a. The consumer is much more informed and has access to unlimited information. The “touch points” of marketing are virtually present everywhere for everyone – from a 5 second TV ad to a pop up on your facebook account. The process of selection of relevant information is no longer linear.

b. Segments are not defined by conventional demographics anymore. I relate much more to my 50 year old academician aunt who travels to a different country every two years than my 27 year old cousin who is a working female , lives in a metro and hates the idea of travel . In short , attitude or behavior now transcends age, geography , income and other conventional demographics . And attitude is almost impossible to predict.

So consumers now scan their environments for personally relevant information and self select themselves into responding to relevant stimuli. Marketers will need to understand how this process of self selection works and create stimuli which bring them into the initial consideration set and keep them in that set as their target consumers move ahead in their decision making while constantly being bombarded with new information. Some of the most important questions in marketing analytics/research now revolve around how this process may be captured through attitudinal segmentation – which creates actionable segments for marketers to work on.

The game of chinese whispers is on and marketing thought should change to discover consumer segments that recognize variance in consumer behavior by itself as the driving force behind consumer decision making.



References: David W. Stewart (1991):”Consumer self Selection and segments of one : The growing role of consumers in segmentation” (Advances in Consumer research Volume 18,1991)

David Court, Dave Elzinga, Susan Mulder, and Ole Jørgen Vetvik:” The consumer decision journey” (Mckinsey Quarterly,June 2009)

Lost in the moonlight

Darkness had fallen all around like a silent blanket. The full moon lent an ethereal beauty to the Kudremukh forest and the air was thick with the sound of the crickets. Vamsi and I were trying hard to walk as fast as we could in the feeble light of the one torch we had. My shoes were wet and my feet felt heavy , slipping at every instance. I followed Vamsi blindly , using my hands to save myself from slipping down as we stepped on the wet stones and boulders . How far were we from Rajappa's house? We could only guess. We had lost the other four in our group a while after we climbed down the second peak into the grasslands. “ I hope they did not take the other way around the stream” - I told Vamsi. The forest was a maze in the dark , like an unmapped territory with a blind turn around every corner. We were crossing one stream after the other , hoping this was the last one. Finally , it was the last one. We stepped into the water to cross it.The leeches were the last thing on my mind. I could not risk falling on a stone again. My cheek was already swollen and bleeding from my last fall. And I knew this stream perfectly well, it was here when I fell the first when we started the trek:).

Outside,a man from Rajappa's house was waiting with a torch . We trudged back to the farmer's house as fast we could.“ You are late!” - Rajappa said disapprovingly. We had already opened our shoes trying to wash away the leeches with salt. Damn these leeches! Vamsi tried calling up one of the others' cell phones - “No use , no network!” he said. We checked with Rajappa if he could send someone for help, and he immediately sent two men to look for the rest of the trekkers.

We had split into three groups on our way back – Varun, Mansi, Neeraj,Soumyajit , Balaji and Santosh (our guide); Avisek,Ambika,Puneet and Rohan – the other four from whom we split unintentionally as we had walked fast ahead and lost them. Mansi had sprained her ankle and we wondered how far the first group had been able to come , but atleast our guide Santosh was with them. “The other four should have reached by now,I hope they have not lost their way”- I said. “ I guess we can only wait “ - said Vamsi as we sat down silently in the moonlight. Out in the forest then, my prophecies were turning out to be true.

“ Aren't we crossing stream after stream?” one of the four asked. It had been two hours since they lost sight of Vamsi and me and they were nowhere near the final stretch to the farmer's house. As they looked around they suddenly saw something familiar – a peak which looked like the one we had climbed during the day. Had they simply encircled the summit and come back to the same place? A sinking feeling began to creep in – they were probably completely lost. They walked ahead , clueless, untill one of them spotted the tree -”Hey,isnt this the tree where Mansi had clicked a photo. Check your cameras!”. Yes, it was - the tree where Mansi had stopped to get a photo clicked when we started the trek. So, they werent close to the peak , they were somewhere near the final destination , but which was the way?? They looked around desperately for help, running around till they saw a hut. But how do they tell them where they wanted to reach? They fished around in their cameras – someone may just have clicked a photo of Rajappa's house. Luckily Ambika had; the photo was shown to one of the boys who quickly identified it and the lost trekkers were finally led through a maze of paddy fields back to the farmer's house.

Mansi was in pain. Her ankle had now twisted and sprained again. How was she to walk back with the rest of the group? They had managed to cover the steep descent from the second peak. The others had been asked to go ahead and not to wait for them. She had been taking small steps helped around with the rest of the guys. But this time around , the sprain was bad. And she could not move an inch. There was still some distance to be covered inside the forest at night. Luckily , help from Rajappa's house was on it's way and they reached just in time. Mansi was carried by one of them for the final stretch through the forest.

The wait finally ended ,and the last group of the disbanded trekkers reached home. We sat around the bonfire, beneath the moonlit sky to share our tales of the night in the forest. As they say,all's well that ends well:)!

Lessons from the trek:

Shoes, shoes and shoes!: Carry the right set of shoes. Even if you have trekked in the north , remember forest treks in south india are a completely different terrain .Your shoes need to have a very good grip on wet land/stones ( Unless you are like our experienced guide who kept hopping around like a rabbit in his pair of chappals). I personally had a very bad experience with Woodland shoes , so did two of my fellow trekkers , and would highly recommend against them.

Leeches: You cannot avoid them. You will inevitably get a couple of leech bites through the trek. In case they like you (or your blood as the case maybe), you will end up with more (10-12 in my case).It helps to walk fast,especially through highly leech infested areas. Sometimes sprinkling tobacco or snuff powder around your shoes may help.Dont stop everywhere trying to remove them, you will end up with more! If you choose a monsoon trek , God bless you;).

Sense of direction: Very difficult to build a sense of direction inside a forest , even if you do , post sunset is a different story all together. A lot of us built a sense of direction in the forest connecting it to events which happened around places. Best tip is to complete the trek in daylight to the extent possible.

Local language: At least learn the basics for survival. You may not have cameras and photos of the right places clicked everytime for pictographic communication.

Super quotes of the trek:

A highly guilty Mansi inside the Kudremukh forest at night :“Guys, I think I am impending your pace. I will stop and camp here,you can pick me up in the morning” (Sure Mansi , you can have a pyjama party too)

Rohan, hallucinating after the four lost their way in the forest :“Dude, I think I just heard a tiger roar” (it was the sound of a plane flying overhead)

Puneet, to the group when they were trying to figure out if they had lost their way:“ I am confident we have lost our way”. (Optimism redefined)

Santosh, to the group while they were inching closer to the first stream :“ Three more and we will reach Shireen's stream "( If you are trekking inside Kudremukh forest, and you want a stream named after you, just make sure you fall down into it.)

*Photo credits to Avisek

[More information on Kudremukh national park : http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kudremukh.

I also discovered a photo of a vine snake taken inside the forest , check this out on Kalyan Varma's blog here: http://kalyan.livejournal.com/191352.html]

Into the ruins of a lost empire

“..Two brothers -Hindus of the Kuruba caste , who were men of strong religious feeling serving in the treasury of the king of Warangal fled from that place on its sack and destruction in 1323 and took service under the petty Rajah of Anegundi. The brothers rose to be the minister and the treasurer respectively at Anegundi. In 1334, the chief gave shelter to Baha ud din – the nephew of Muhammad of Delhi and was attacked by the Sultan. Anegundi fell , as narrated by Ibn Batuta and the sultan retired leaving Mallik as his deputy to rule the state. Mallik found the people too strong for him and eventually the Sultan restored the country to the Hindus, raising to be rajah and minister respectively the two brothers -Harihara I and Bukka, who founded the great city of Vijayanagar in 1335.*”

And thus starts the story of Hampi – the capital of the grand Vijayanagar empire. Situated among giant boulder strewn hills and criss crossed by the Tungabhadra, the ruins of Hampi today stand as the last testimony to the architecture, history and religion of the great Vijayanagar empire.Another set of folklore associate Hampi with the Ramayana – Kishkinda is potrayed as the region around Hampi. It is here that Ram and Lakshman meet Hanuman in their search for the lost Sita.

A trip to Hampi was recommended by many when I moved to Bangalore. A long weekend on the Gandhi Jayanti and quick planning with 'travelaholic' friends from Mumbai -Rathi and Vinay (who also got my new Canon DSLR..yippee!) was the perfect set up for a journey to Hampi. We started off early Friday morning. The scheduled 8 hour journey by road from Bangalore, however,extended to a painful 10 hours drive thanks to the rains which wrecked havoc and the dismal state of the NH 13 (so much for the tourism infrastructure for a UNESCO world heritage site).

Day1: Vijayanagar architecure- Tungabhadra- Hampi bazaar- food!

Hampi presents a bizarre but brilliant combination of the rocky , peninsular landscape interspersed with man made architecture. We started with the Saraswati temple dedicated to the Goddess Saraswati. The temple is mostly in ruins but the terracota made stucco figures can still be seen. Behind the Saraswati temple, the road leads to the Octagonal Bath – a gigantic bathing area shaped as an octagon. Our next stop was the Virupakhsa temple located in the Hampi bazaar. Dedicated to Lord Shiva , this temple is a crash course in typical Vijayanagar architecture.
For most of the temples , Vijayanagar architecuture  is apparently similar to the Cholas  for making its towers. The top portion of the tower is made of brick and mortar , the outside of which is packed with terracota images. Usually , a large open hall stands between the tower and the main shrine. Another typical feature of Vijayanagar architecture is the use of Yalis – giant mythical creatures carved on pillars situated around the porch in these open halls.

Behind the Virupaksha temple , flows the Tungabhadra – coloured as red as the laterite soil all over in Hampi. The monsoon lends this river an intimidating fury and force as it rages through the gorge. Southwards from the temple , the path leads to the Hemkut hills scattered with Jain temples and an incredible canvas of rock structures. My personal favourite was the double storeyed temple – a Greek acropolis like double storeyed structure on the rocks. Hemkut hills also provides a panoramic view of Hampi – a perfect place to get sunset shots. As you climb down from the Hemkut hills, you can walk down to see monolithic statues of Lord Ganesha ( Sasvikalu and Dodda Ganesha) and the Ugra Narasimha located a little ahead. Another must see site is the Krishna temple built by Krishnadevaraya to celebrate the conquest of Udaygiri ( present day Orissa).

Our next  important agenda of the day was discovering food in Hampi. Most of the eateries are located around the Hampi Bazaar dotted with shops selling clothes, artefacts and antiques. It is interesting to observe the standardisation of the flea market – from Janpath and Sarojini nagar in New Delhi to Hampi Bazaar and Jew town in Kochi, flea market products (be it the colour,the fabric or the style and cuts of the clothes) are now pretty much uniform. A must go eating place is the Mango tree restaurant located on the banks of the Tungabhadra with terraced floor seating facing the river. A giant mango tree stands right in the middle of the restaurant. A great place to relax and chill out with sumptous food – from traditional Thalis to assorted dishes. Another favourite was the Shanthi restaurant – just a small walk away from Virupaksha. An exotic menu serves everything from Israeli to Italian food , a predictable hit with the foreign tourists who flock here everyday.

Day 2: Vittala -Achyuta Raya –attack of the Xenophobic Hampi Buffalo – last glimpses of Hampi

The Vittala temple, dedicated to Lord Vishnu is one of the most sprawling temple complexes in Hampi with the iconic stone chariot inside it. The temple built in the 15th century has been enhanced by many kings in successive regimes. Around the temple complex, are the remains of a township called Vittalapura. From the Vittala temple , one can walk to the Achyuta raya temple. The road is interspersed with ruins and runs across the Tungabhadra. Like the Virupaksha , the Achyuta Raya temple also has a bazaar leading to the doorstep of the temple. This street known as the Courtesan's street was once a flourishing centre of trade. From here, a trekking trail leads through the Matunga hill to the Hampi bazaar , and it was here that occured the “landmark” event of the trip.

As we made our way through the boulders , a herd of seemingly harmless buffalo passed by. Vinay decided to crack a joke on the red cap I was wearing which he said would enrage the buffaloes. Very prophetic! A split second later , one of the buffaloes suddenly came charging , but surprisingly at Rathi ( who by the way was wearing a yellow cap, colour blind buffalo maybe!). The brave woman made a kung fu style gesture faced with the buffalo's horns few cms away, I , in my attempt to pass by fell in the bushes on the side , while chivalrous Vinay kept watching on the side (our ex post analysis since he could not provide any feasible explanation to what he was doing at that exact moment). Colour blind-aka-xenophobic buffalo however , simply walked by lazily, after having achieved the desired impact – three stunned travellers , a moderately bruised one (i.e me) and a Nokia phone with a splintered screen ( I now need to check with Nokia if their warranty covers buffalo attacks).

We trekked back to Hampi Bazaar trying to recover from the hilarious incident and keeping our distance away from suspicious looking cattle (including goats). We decided to spend the afternoon at the Mango tree , gorging on food and reading up on Hampi. Post lunch we headed to the Queen's bath and the Zenana enclosure- a blend of Indo Islamic architecture built when the sultanates of the Deccan managed to percolate down south and squashed the Vijaynagar regime thus ending the grand empire.Sunset was spent at the Hemkut hills , where we managed to get some shots of the double storeyed temple . As darkness fell ,we walked back to Hampi bazaar, had a quick dinner and headed back to the hotel.

Early next morning we drove back to Bangalore to resume the humdrum of our daily lives.The ruins of the ancient metropolis lay behind ,where time it seems...has forgotten to move on.

* Excerpt from the book 'A Forgotten Empire (Vijayanagar) - Robert Sewell'

Around the world in two..well three plates!

I always thought Bangalore had great places to eat out..the opinion being partly created out of a short stint during my internship when I stayed in the city for two months. The night curfew thing is a tad (or more !) sad though and completely rules out any hopes of spending a good weekend with friends over a couple of drinks and good music. So when a friend from Mumbai was visiting over the weekend , I decided to explore eating out in Bangalore (selling the idea of night life in Bangalore to a Mumbaiite is a complete no no:)). Here are our three picks over the weekend:

Fiorano Ristorante, Koramangala:

This quaint Italian restaurant gives a very Mediterranean feel the moment you enter it with a chic yet soothing ambience. The black furniture contrasts stylishly with the whitewashed walls. The highlight of the restaurant is the complementary plate of bruschetta which you are supposed to put together on your own. If you do not know how ( like the two of us who kept giggling at the loaves and ended up eating all the tomatoes till the friendly chef offered to enlighten us) , just ask the waiters around , or better still , scroll down to read ' how to make your own bruschetta':). The starters are good , especially the minestrone soup. Try the Gnocchi Cream and Mushroom sinfully dipped in cheese for your main course if you prefer vegetarian. The non vegetarian is good too , but the vegetarian options on the menu are truly extensive.The mocktails are passable. Sadly enough, this otherwise authentic Italian restaurant does not serve wine ( I wonder what an Italian would say to that!). All in all – highly recommended for the food , ambience and the very friendly staff!

MTR, Lalbagh:

If you want some great south Indian food in Bangalore, head to the Mavalli Tiffin rooms in Lalbagh. Housed in a small building, MTR does not have the ambience of today's restaurants but the food more than speaks for itself. Our initial plan was for lunch , but we reached late only in time for the afternoon snacks. A marathon run of idli , dosas, upma and filter coffee later , we had turned into complete MTR loyalists. In case you want to get lunch here , you would need to register and wait for your turn. An absolute must go for anyone visiting Bangalore and totally worth the wait!!

The Zen, Leela Palace Kempinski:

The Zen is the pan Asian restaurant at the Leela serving a range of cuisines – Chinese, Korean , Japanese and Thai. Options are not too extensive , especially for the Korean. The Chinese here is your best bet. Food is reasonably good , but I am sure Bangalore has better options for Pan Asian food. The dessert was the high point of the evening. In case you are looking for South east asian cuisine, this would definitely not be the most preferred place.

*How to make your own bruschetta?

Here is what you need: Warm, fresh bread, roasted garlic pods, basil leaves,cherry tomatoes, olive oil, salt and pepper.
Rub the garlic pods on the bread and spread evenly. Follow this up with rolled basil leaves and sprinkle some salt and pepper. Drizzle the olive oil and then rub the cherry tomatoes. Your fresh bruschetta is ready. Deliziosa!!

Cairo Diary

[This is actually an old post written during my Cairo visit in February as a note on fb, I did not have this blog then. Just thought it would be a good idea to have all the travel notes on the blog.]

28th February,2009

I thought I would write down a diary on my Cairo visit since I had nothing better to do sitting in my hotel room on a rainy Saturday afternoon. The Cairo trip was on the cards since December ever since our client in Cairo wanted us to come down on a project but kept postponing till February end when he finally told me “we are ready for you now”(err???) . So I got my visa and tickets done and flew down to Cairo (the only sad part -I miss my flatmate’s most awaited big fat wedding in Delhi which is today).

My initial itinerary was to cover the pyramids and as much as I could of Cairo on the weekend since I was flying to Dubai the week after. But I would now probably be in Cairo longer , which means I can even hopefully try and plug in Alexandria/Luxor as well.For the trip to the pyramids I decided to use the hotel concierge services, something I normally do not do when I am traveling since I prefer working out the logistics myself using the public transportation system as it lends a lot of flexibility and I normally avoid guides. But a language barrier (now I regret not being more diligent about learning Arabic as a kid) and the fact that the pyramids were away from the city made it a good idea to use the hotel services for transportation.

My first halt was at Saqqara, the site for Egypt’s oldest pyramids, which lies south of Cairo. The most famous feature here is the Step pyramid for King Djoser which was overseen by his architect Imhotep. A lot of the site is still under excavation. Although Egyptians are, genuinely very friendly and hospitable people, it helps to be a be a tad careful of the friendly smiles in these tourist spots which may be mostly motivated by prospects of money (almost in the same way that foreign tourists are fleeced in India). Near Saqqara,, there are also a lot of carpet weaving schools which teach the children staying in the villages to weave Egyptian wool and silk carpets. It makes for an interesting visit and the carpets woven are truly beautiful although very very expensive. The proprietor tried hard to convince me to buy one (with a 30% discount especially for special Indian “friends”) , unfortunately without any success.After the carpet weaving school , I noticed my guide would non chalantly drop every now and then into a series of shops selling papyrus paintings , Egyptian essences , Egyptian cotton on the way. Sadly for him, I was an Indian , and no amount of convincing would help (although I did buy a papyrus painting for my parents, one of the few things which I thought was worth a purchase:)).

My guide and I also had several intellectually stimulating conversations on the way to Giza:
Conversation Sample 1 (note high level of deductive reasoning):
Guide:” You know why India and Egypt are friends…you know?”
Me: “ Umm..no well.. why?”
Guide: “Because Egypt has camels and India has elephants. Camel and elephant – friends ,so Egypt and India – friends”
Me: “I see “

Conversation Sample 2 (note high level of cultural awareness and guide’s never ending curiosity for elephants):
Guide: "Are elephants expensive in India?"
Me: "Not sure, I have never bought one."
Guide: "But will they be more expensive than camels?"
Me: "Yea, maybe"
Guide: "So elephants are roaming around on the roads?"
Me: "Yea , part of the traffic problem is because of them."

Giza is magnificent , especially when you are driving down the roads with the pyramids on the sides. I was not awed in the same way as I remember when I had first seen the Taj , but there is something about the fact of so much history being buried all around in the sands that makes it very thrilling. I would love to go to Giza after sundown, maybe I will catch the light and sound show if I am here longer. The sphinx on the other hand is disappointing , much less magnificent than what I imagined.

Today I decided to see old Cairo. Cairo is a chaotic city , especially the traffic. There are also areas of downtown Cairo which reminded me of North Calcutta:). Old Cairo is well…very very old! It has some of the oldest mosques, churches and also a very old Jewish synagogue. If you want to see old Cairo, take along someone who knows about the history of the area. I managed to get a very interesting guide , a bright, young lady named Maie , who is an Egyptologist currently doing her Phd at the Cairo university. Thanks to Maie, I would rate my Old Cairo visit one of my most interesting tours.

If you are interested in history/architecture/religion/symobology, do make a trip to this area. The hitch here is you cannot shoot much since photography is not allowed inside most of the oldest buildings in the interest of preservation. The area is a hotpot of culture and religion - Ottoman mosques built around 1400 A.D, Coptic Churches , ruins of Roman fortifications and one of the oldest synagogues. Coptic Cairo was the stronghold of Christianity in Egypt till the Islamic era. A must visit here is Abu Serga – the church built on the spot where Mary and Jesus were hiding from the Romans, the hanging Church and the Coptic museum – relatively lesser known compared to the more famous Egyptian museum but worth a visit. You can also stop by for breakfast at one of the street shops selling falafel:).
My trip to old Cairo in the morning made me realize I need a refresher in Egyptian history. So I ditched my intial plans of going to the Egyptian museum to see King Tut’s antiquities and got down to read up on Egyptian history instead. So my rest of the day will be spent reading Egyptian history (any references on the net would be very helpful:)) , and a walk down the Nile in front of the hotel around sunset. Maybe I will get some good shots unless it stays as cloudy!

Backwaters brief

I was just two weeks into Bangalore with a huge to do list as I was trying to settle down into my new flat when a colleague of mine informed me about the photography club in office and an imminent weekend trip to watch the snake boat race at Alleppey in Kerala. “Would you be interested?” , “of course”- pat came the reply, putting flat in order can wait:D!!. A few email exchanges and a short break out session later the itinerary was fixed. We left Friday evening for Alleppey in a tempo traveller with especially inadequate leg space (the only close proxy I could think of are DTDC buses plying between Sarai Kale Khan,Delhi and Bharatpur). A mostly sleepless night (interspersed with a Munnabhai show and attempts to watch a Tam movie) later, we reached Alleppey at around 8 a.m in the morning and headed towards the Punnamada boat jetty. A boat from the resort where we had booked ourselves picked us up from the jetty. As we made our way to the resort through the water channel, I got my first glimpses of the incredibly beautiful backwaters.

A short boat trip later, we got off on a small island where a giant thatched hut like structure greeted us. The resort was a collection of bamboo cottages connected by an overhead walkway with an unrestricted view of the seemingly endless water and ricefields. The bamboo structure and the big open spaces blend seamlessly with the environment outside lending a natural aura to it (more inside info on the resort later;).

We quickly freshened up , had breakfast and headed out for the boat race with a couple of other photographers (part of a workshop in progress at the resort , some of whom had camera equipment we kept leching at throughout). Although the race started late in the afternoon , we arrived early to get our preferred slot. Gradually, people started trickling in. The colours, sounds and sights of an entire town out to watch the boat race was quite enthralling. A long wait later , the race started. It was exciting to see the boats battle against each other to photo finish while the rowers rowed in complete harmony. The race also had its share of overenthusiastic and slightly inebriated cheerleaders who entertained the crowds with their antics in the water. Unfortunately for them , they also had to face the baton with the Kerala police on the prowl . The cop boat also had a mascot somewhat resembling a Zebra which kept waving to the crowds as the boat panned the stretch of the race picking up rowdy cheerleaders;).

As the entertaining and fun filled race got over , we headed back to our resort around sunset. Evening was spent on the open terrace in the resort over drinks and discussing plans for forthcoming trips.We decided to spend the first half of the next day doing a tour of the nearby villages followed by a quick trip to Kochi before we headed back to Bangalore.

Next morning, we checked out of the resort after breakfast and started on our tour of the backwaters. For those of you who still have not been to the backwaters, just GO!!:) It’s absolute bliss just sitting on the roof of the boat with the vast expanse of water and lush greenery all around.In case you love to eat anything with fins or which swims, there are options galore. Stop by one of the local shops on the banks to savour some of the local fish served with tapioca (you may end up overpaying though as a tourist:)).
After the tour , we came back to the Punnamada boat jetty and headed towards Kochi. An hour and a half later we arrived in Kochi just in time for lunch. We stopped at the Grand hotel for a taste of Kerala cuisine. And some lunch we had!! We ended up spending 2 hours over a huge gorgeous spread of squids, prawns, fish – you name it and we ate it:)! Post lunch, we decided to do a quick tour of the Jew town and then to the beach to click the Chinese fishing nets at sunset. The clouds played spoilsport , we did get some shots nevertheless. As the sun set on the Arabian sea, we headed back to Bangalore.

A brief stint with the backwaters, a fun filled and colourful boat race smattered with some sumptuous food in truly God’s own country – thats what I call a weekend well spent!

[Inside info on the resort (Bamboostix): Very backpacker styled (except for the price;) with bunker beds and rooms right on the waterfront. Carry your own towels and toiletries ( in case you want a smoke or a drink , carry them as well since there is nothing that you get here). All in all – great location , bad food , overpriced for the entire proposition]

Flashback@Presidency

I was in Calcutta for a day and decided to make a trip to Presidency College where I spent my graduation years. I landed in the midst of familiar chaos at College Street – narrow footpaths cramped with bookstores selling old books, hawkers, buses, trams and rickshaws all jostling for space on the road. As I arrive at the college gate, I can’t stop grinning – a Che poster welcoming the freshers greets me on the portico wall. Quintessential Presidency! For a lot of outsiders I have spoken to, the Presidency environment seems highly politicised and somewhat inimical. For me and I guess a lot of other Presidencians as well, it is an integral part of what Presidency is – a virtual melting point of everything. From the moment you step into the college, it throws you into a vibrant chaos with no inhibitions. You may end up spending your college days slogging it out at the lecture theatres, sloganeering as a leftist leader or discussing philosophy in the canteen high on grass for all you know. The college does not promise a textbook education, it lets you choose (no archaic attendance enforcement rules exist), makes you question why and yet lends everyone a space for individuality.
Each department in the college had it’s place in a percieved value chain born out of past history and the college grapevine. Eco was quite high up with a certain element of glamour ( I am not sure why, probably the girls :), I wouldn’t believe if someone told me it was because of the guys, except for two batches senior:)). Batch sizes were typically small and an incredible student teacher camaraderie existed. Sadly enough, the college has been a victim of the state’s poor education policy, a reason why it falls short of good infrastructure and fails to retain the best faculty.

I turn left from the portico.I notice Derozio has been coloured a disappointing blue and stands a tad incongruously now. Inside the department, things are pretty much the same except for a new computer lab which occupies part of the erstwhile office. I stand around in the corridors for a while , how it just seems like yesterday!! The library looks better organised. I meet Balmiki da, our favourite assistant librarian and saviour to many an errant student. He tells me most of the old faculty has left and laments at what many think Presidency needs the most – good teachers. There is a new lady librarian in the EPL library. She looks up to me and asks “ Ei, first year? Library card nebe?”( First year?, looking for your library card?). I nod, murmur a soft no and walk out. There is something I must absolutely check before I go back. I walk into one of the lecture rooms, where a couple of young students are vociferously discussing Harris Todaro. I wave a hi and walk straight to the last row. My eyes look searchingly for that one last bench. Ah, there it is! I run my fingers on the rough inscription on it: “This bench is dedicated to the memory of those who died waiting for the bell to ring”. I look around the scores of names till I find mine etched somewhere in the corner. Atleast somethings in life remain just the way you remember when you left them last:). I smile to myself and walk away.

Hasta La Vista Delhi

I came down to Delhi for my postgraduation 6 years back. Ever since it has been a love hate relationship with this city – a place mired in history, power and a struggle to survive. I am not exactly sure right now what I love about the city (except for the truly amazing roads) or whether I have a sense of belonging but there is something about the city which exudes power – as the political capital of the country or the fact that historically it has been the centre of all battles to the seat of power, and there is something which induces a necessary dose of aggression for everyone who comes to create a space of his/her own.

As a child, I used to move places quite often since my father had a transferable job. There was always a sense of sadness of leaving behind places and friends but the thrill of moving to a new place and meeting new people more than made up for the farewell blues. I also had an extremely quirky habit of saying goodbye to all pieces of furniture (I am not sure why I had an inexplicable sense of emotional connection with furniture) and would roam around the house saying my goodbyes to every single piece of furniture till my parents were forced to drag me outside. As I leave Delhi , I thought I would say my random goodbyes and thank yous to few places ,people and events which will always be a huge part of my Dilli memories (no , not to furniture this time, age has made me saner I think):

JNU Campus days, night outs at PSR rocks watching the planes fly overhead and wishing that life would just stop; Sarojini Nagar, Janpath,Lajpat for all the street shopping and lessons in the art of haggling (Delhi autowalas deserve special mention here); the drives around India gate at night and the sudden rush of pride; the noises, crowds and smells of Parathe wali Gali and Chandni Chowk, the Galotis,Burras and kebabs at Karims’ and Al Kauser (you made me realise the true sense of gastronomic pleasure); fruit beers at Dilli Haat ; Connaught Place (for the eternal knowledge that no matter how well you know this place, it takes a minimum of two rounds to locate any damn thing, four if you are with Ankita) ; the nip in the air as winter approaches; the nights spent at Silver Oaks playing the same boardgames over and over again (I realised I suck at drawing, I lose all my money in Monopoly, I can hardly get over my laughter fits to be able to act remotely for Dumbcharade and I have the highest tendency to cheat) ; Ronnie,Babu, Tanuj, Buddha (I know you are smiling), Peejay, Adi, Shweta, Varun,Boru for the amazing weekend times ; Garga, Joy, Anal, Ankit and all the kids for the birthday surprises and the party sessions;Tanuj and Babu for converting me to Alcoholics Anonymous; Babu for the drives down Faridabad Highway (sorry for err..puking in the car) and my first camera lessons.

So untill next time Delhi..see you! Mmuah:)

Run Lola Run!

Experiences in self defence – some suggestions in hindsight and supporting anecdotes for fellow women:

• When in doubt run (If you are in stilettos, God save you girl. Else wait for available superheroes)
• Get a sense of local geography. Keep a map in handy if you are highly prone to get drunk/stoned/both
• Get a hang of public transport and routes if you are travelling or moving to a new place. It helps not to be a lazy bum who only sticks to using cabs
• Master the art of walking fast in Brownian motion (Theoretically , it helps if you have a slender frame as it minimizes drag)
  

Yenna Rascala!
Bangalore, May 2004
I was in Bangalore for two months for an internship with two of my friends– Rathi and Apu. One of the weekends we decided to hang out in the evening ( I think it was some birthday celebration thing). So we go, gorge at some restaurant , have one of those girls night out kind of time and finally decide to head home. It was slightly late and it was getting difficult to get an auto. We finally managed to get one , told the autowala where we wanted to go and went back to our random conversations . Now women chattering away have a habit of losing sense of time and direction which we soon did , not to mention our severely limited knowledge of Bangalore geography. I suddenly realized we were travelling in the auto for an unusually long time .I poked Rathi to check the route with the autowala ( she is a fake half kannad woman who can only count till 10 but nevertheless the most qualified to converse with our shady autowala). He muttered something incomprehensible and before we realized we were inside a dark alley with not a soul around. Our highly suspicious autowala stops, jumps out and vanishes inside what looks like …err..a house with pink curtains leaving the three of us quite baffled about what is it that we should do. Apu is the first one who notices the pink curtains, I mention that I find those pink curtains incredibly shady, while Rathi thinks we should run ( smart she is I tell you, that fake half kannad woman). Apu was the one who was most averse to the idea of running , I thought it wasn’t a particularly bad idea plus we even save on the auto fare. So there we were , three girls running in a dark Bangalore alley one summer night. Rathi was the fastest , quite commendable given that she was the only one in a skirt. Apu was the pessimistic one who kept telling us running would be of no use since the autowala could catch up with us in no time. We ran till we reached what looked like a main road, got another auto and reached home while giggling hysterically all the way , much to the consternation of our new auto guy:)
Yeh dilli hai mere yaar!
JNU, New Delhi ,March 2005
It was my final year in JNU and the season of hostel festivals. The JNU campus is incredibly huge and vast areas of the campus are under natural forest cover. Outsider entry is somewhat unrestricted and sometimes results in security issues although the campus brims with life till late night (Night life at JNU is also one of the most incredible memories for anyone who has been a part of the campus). I was attending a dinner and dance night at one of the hostels and decided to take a stroll down the ring road ( the road which circles the entire campus ) with two of my friends. It was late and a lot of the security was diverted to the hostel festivals leaving some other parts of the campus unmonitored. We were walking along a particular stretch which was quite desolate and the only populated area was the campus school area which was somewhat ahead. One of my friends –a strong , well built Punju girl was telling us about a self defence course she recently took from the Delhi Police. Suddenly, a car comes and stops near us with some drunk ,jeering Delhi brats. While we try to ignore them and walk faster , the car does a U turn , goes back and a while later we could hear its screeching brakes to turn back again.
Two of us turn to our Punju friend reassuredly:” Hey, you took the self defence course didn’t you?
Punju friend:” Yea, I know, but girls, right now..JUST RUN!”
My other friend suggests hiding in the bushes. We overrule it completely , you might just end up landing on a cobra’s tail for all you know.
So there I was , running again on JNU roads , hoping we could beat the car and reach the school area ( which we did , or maybe the brats decided not to drive all the way)!

The Italian job
Milan, June 2006
I was in Milan for a couple of months on work and I would take a trip off to see some place in Europe every weekend. This particular weekend I had gone to Barcelona and was returning back to Milan. When I reached the airport in the night, I realized there was a taxi strike and the only way to get to the city was the shuttle which would go till the Central railway station. I was so used to taking the cabs to work and back that I had completely ignored on exploring the public transport system in the city , especially the subway. So I took the shuttle and reached the Central Railway Station. I realized there was a subway station nearby , but had no idea how to get to my place. I figured the best way would be to reach the Piazza Duomo (the square in the heart of the city) and then walk back home from there. I found the subway station quite empty, partly because it was late and partly because there was a soccer match that night. I noticed two men (who looked very Indian to me) loitering around in the station. They got in the same compartment of the train I boarded and got down at the Piazza station with me. I realized I was being followed but fortunately for me I knew the Piazza very well. I also knew there would be a huge crowd at the square to watch the soccer match on the giant screen. This is a perfect situation for what I call the Brownian motion walk – walk extremely fast with high degree of unpredictability in direction. Once I reached the square, I lost myself in the crowd and the two blokes as well and a while later walked back to reach my apartment safely:)

Billions of blue blistering barnacles!

A friend of mine recently asked me when was the last time I felt truly happy ( she was trying to explain to me that after a certain point of time in life happiness becomes "relative"..err..she is profound , ain't she?). So here goes the conversation:

Profound friend: Think of it..when was the last time you felt truly happy ?
Me ( think ..think..think ): Oh..when I went home two weeks back and I bought myself a Tintin comics from the local bookstore....its a sequel to this another comic I was looking for..bla..bla ..bla..
Profound friend (rolls eyes):*Oh my God.. so she is actually nuts!

I cant remember a single moment in the entire chronology of my life when a Tintin comics did not make me truly thrilled. It was my dad who actually introduced me to Tintin , he being a obsessed fan of the series too ( I therfore call it genetic:)).As a child, I used to wait eagerly for my Dad to visit Calcutta since there was a bookstore at Howrah station where he used to get the Tintin books from. The book was expensive and hence supply was rationed. Another source was a local bookstore in my mom's hometown which used to offer cheaper prices. It was part of a program of cultural exchange between Soviet Russia and the West Bengal Government. The collapse of the USSR however , left me with the sole Howrah bookstore option.

I used to pride myself at my carefully built up inventory of Tintin comics and put them to greater use:). One of the boys in the neighbourhood had an amazing toy - a Leo racing circuit with a set of cars which I thought was fantastic ( That I thought he was a dumb,fat brat worth being socked was a different thing). I used to bargain one Tintin comic a week (or till he finished reading it) for using the Leo racing circuit 2-3 hours everyday during the entire period. He was a damn slow reader and the bargain worked beautifully:). I often used to overshoot my daily usage quota and everytime I did so , I would go to his mom to return the toy . Fat brat was obviously not pleased but his mom was a big fan of mine ( I used to play the nice, model kid with elan and it worked;) and would just brush away any objections he had with my blatant violations of the contract. Oh., and by the way , I also made him sign something resembling a contract ( I wrote a long drawn sentence in English which I thought was complicated and hence sounded very legal and made him sign it). Fat brat left the neighbourhood after some time as his dad got transferred . I thoroughly missed exploiting him:).

I still collect Tintin comics now , they are readily available now everywhere.I realise the utility levels have gone down ever since the huge demand supply mismatch ceased to exist. Nevertheless, the gleam in my eyes and the restlessness to finish reading it off has stayed intact ( or so my mother says). And I do realise what it is to be truly happy when I have one in my hand!

* Author's version of unvocalised thoughts
P.S: For other Tintin fans , here is an interesting link http://www.tintinologist.org/guides/lists/curses.html
List of all curses used by Captain Haddock:)