DNA Tower, King's Park

I was eager to visit the DNA Tower in King’s Park for quite some time; myself and Ram made it last weekend. It was not as difficult to reach the tower as reviewed by some people. We just had to follow our humble TomTom navigator. We scurried through the city, crossed the fantastic Mounts Bay road and took the Forrest Drive. This route is a sight for those sore eyes!

The beautiful tower loomed to our right. There is a small car park near the base of the tower and we parked our car. The tower has 101 steps (did not count them; the info panel had that info!) and is 15m high, resembling the DNA double helix structure. I thought it would be a tough climb to the top but I figured it is a cinch for anyone who can easily scale a three storey (approx!) apartment.

The tower has three small viewing platforms and a bit larger fourth platform at the very top. It is not quite large; only a max of 6 or 7 people can stand there comfortably. 

Bang on the centre of the platform is a compass that points to all the famous places around. I squeaked when I saw Rottnest island—a thin strip of land if you really squeeze your eyes a tad hard. It felt good!

It boasts a decent view of the Swan River and the Perth City Centre.

Leave aside the views and the climb up the tower; they are definitely for the thrills! The best part of this place, for me, was the Broadwalk to Synergy Parkland. The Broadwalk from the tower is bliss. I would compare it to looking out from the balcony of some English palace and feasting our eyes on the wide palace grounds below and beyond. It was stunning!

Here is a dismally bad take of the Broadwalk; curse my mobile cam for that! 

The Broadwalk stretched for as far as the eyes could see with wild bushland on both sides. Of course, I would not have ventured out there had I not seen at least a few people walking out from the other side. We took the walk and man was I chuffed. As you walk you notice that the ground level faintly slopes down making it quite easy to cover the 1.5km to the park on the other side. We reached a beautiful road that curved graciously on either side, crossed it and had a decent view of the park, some 100m or so beyond. We were quite surprised by the crowd that greeted us.

In contrast to the few aboard the tower, those playing, chatting, lying down or simply watching their kids play on the park were quite high. The park itself is a beauty. There is a small pond with a fountain, a small island and a boardwalk around it. To be a hit with kids, there are a lot of play things around and the park is based on prehistoric eras. So yes, I spotted one dinosaur with a few eggs around her and some other prehistoric creatures were around. I am positive every kid on earth would totally adore it. We took the boardwalk past an enchanting weeping willow and learnt about stromatolites and lycopods. Many ducks were wading through the pond. We took a few snaps, here, there and everywhere. It was exquisite!

We sat on the island and took in the ravishing beauty of the place and promised ourselves that we would make it again sometime soon. We just had some 20 minutes before sunset and had to take the Broadwalk for the car. And mind you, there are no lights throughout the Broadwalk. It is you, the moon (if your are lucky!) and yeah, the thick forest sandwiching you. At one point, I imagined a huge T-rex or a pack of velociraptors to confront us. Am I so glad we are past that era!

It was a totally awesome experience that visitors or natives of Perth should take. I vouch for the eventual enjoyment!

Towards An Extended Life of Adventure

Wonder why the human lifespan does not average more than 77 years (Google helped me here)! 

There is so much to see: nature in all her mysterious, fantastic splendour. I find it quite unsettling if a person breathes his last without setting foot on the extreme latitudes and longitudes and all those exotic places in between. That would be such a bummer! 

Not to mention seeing, watching, living, and experiencing the lives of the countless clans of people that makes up the human race. There are so many cultures out there, ethnic people to befriend and many others waiting to be known—million secrets to unearth, mystical stories to share, fabulous cuisines to taste. 

It took me close to three decades to partially understand the person I am. I am sure there are thousands like you on the same page here. It would still take two more decades to find out what I am really made of! Between the ignorance and revelation, I would have lost those pricey 20 years of my life to marriage, children and work. I would become a wise octogenarian with the deepest regret of not having set out on a grand adventure and making my life more exciting during my days of youth. In the end, I die, say somewhere between 70 and 90.

Dang, where was the fun part? Those 70–90 years are just not enough for me. Add to this a generous dose of good health.
 
There is a whole world out there waiting for every enthusiastic human; I need not prove here that our life years would hardly suffice in any way. 

Cynics might mock me at the very thought of extending human years—is there not enough hatred, violence and vendetta in our world to escape from? I agree. There are too many of those baneful happenings around the clock, but only for the weak and soulless human to succumb to. Perhaps it is time for every cynic to ultimately accept that life cannot be cocooned within the confines of human weaknesses and rigid boundaries. It has to be left loose—in order to form a full circle, in order to feel being complete. Still others might point out that I am not ready to embrace death—a silly, alleged prejudice for me to cling to the possibility of extending the human lifespan. To them, I say "You all are exceedingly mistaken." Death is one thing, life is another. Every second could be your last. Why not live it? Why not shelve all the hatred away and enjoy while you can?

I honestly envy the immortal jellyfish which can practically NEVER DIE. I am still amazed at the thought of this creature without a bracketed life. It possibly exists forever. Is it not wonderful that it can metamorphose itself to the infant stage once it reaches maturity? Maybe, for the jellyfish I am standing on the greener side of the grass. Maybe, it does envy my mortality. I assure you that I am not rooting for immortality here, but definitely an extension of life years—to explore all possible places, people, food; to eventually breathe my last and to be at peace that I did what I wanted to do, that I did not waste my time confining myself to the limited geography of my abode, that I did venture out and sought my own grand adventure. 

All it takes are some extra years!

Stop bursting Diwali crackers

I reckon I have an extremely sensitive pair of ears. I flinch when somebody raises his or her voice and shudder when that high decibel honking of a passing lorry catches me off the hook. I clench my teeth when I ride next to a lorry and cartwheel with silent gratitude when the same lorry honks feebly. No wonder I find bursting Diwali crackers an acute nuisance. I do not remember touching a loud cracker in my lifetime but for the mild kuruvi vedi. Dang, I was scared with that one too! I love sparklers, saatais and adore watching the black serpents mysteriously cropping out of that teensy little black button. I like watching those novelty crackers that vroom to the sky and spread spatially with flashes of stars in myriad colors – they are simply fantastic! But there ends my tolerance for crackers. I shut my ears tight for the rest and pray they be done with soon.        

I understand that as Indians we have every right to rejoice the slaying of evil Narakasuran. What I do not understand is how irresponsible we can be by being blind to what is reality.

We burst crackers and thereby are the direct cause of noise, air and land pollution. We have polluted our planet enough and this just adds to the insanity. Post bursting, the smoke stays and clings to our food. We brush this off with such foolish nonchalance when it can indeed be highly poisonous. Earth as such does not belong to humans alone; there are other creatures to be valued as well. Crackers are dangerous for animals. When was the last time you saw your cuddly dog happily woofing by your side during Diwali? Birds go missing and are nowhere in sight. Only after the deafening cacophony subsides do the other mortals come out. We of course know that very young children are employed to manufacture these crackers. To their parents or relatives it may be the only best thing that they can possibly do. Just replace those helpless kids with your child, nephew or niece – is it not agonizing to watch them waste away when they could instead march their way to school? Is it really important that we dance and enjoy bursting those crackers made from the unnecessary toil of those little kids? Not to forget the less healthy – there are people living amongst us with heart problems and old people can definitely not bear the cracker clamour.

Is it not our obligation to consider all these before lighting that doom of a cracker?  The festival can be pompous, grand, out of the world and everything to render it a visual treat. Exchange sweets, wear new clothes, educate newbies to the Diwali story, sing songs, party hard, picnic with friends and family. Nevertheless, edify people against bursting crackers to make this world a healthy place to live in.

Think before you light a cracker next time.
 

Begging - To Encourage or Not to Encourage

I was travelling by train from Chennai to Mumbai last week. The weather was pleasant - it had recently rained in Chennai - I was thoroughly enjoying this travel break. In every station that the train halted, there was a different scene; the people, the anxious faces, the vendors and the beauty of the place by itself. It felt good to go through so many different visuals in few hours of travel.

We reached Renigunta, nearby the infamous Tirumala Tirupathi temple. Our train halted for a good 15 minutes and I was savouring the happenings outside. I saw an old lady come out of the waiting room with a young mentally-challenged girl of about 14 towing behind her. Both looked shabby with unkempt hair. It was clear that they had a job to do - beg. Beg the people for money and food. I suddenly felt totally helpless and seeing them that way bothered me a lot. My mood changed. I felt sorry for them one side and furiously bitter the other. 

They entered our coach and started begging - some people gave food, others pittance. I am strictly against  begging but I did not have the temerity to ask them anything or advice them on a better life, a better world. I played a mute spectator that day. I did feel horrible.They passed me to continue their dehumanizing task and I felt terribly sad for them. 

Out of helplessness, I looked out the window and saw a fiftyish man walk briskly down the platform. With salt-and-pepper hair, a decent crumpled checked shirt and a lungi, he had a staff for support and a rag bag. May be I was the only person who was staring at him from our train and he noticed that. He changed course, feigned a forced walk and stood right outside my window; arms in supplication, begging for money. I was stumped. There he was - a hale and healthy man, who can walk and talk fine (positively not a differently-abled person) and he resorted to begging. I simply ignored him, he looked at me with his penetrative eyes for a second and he walked away. Then came another lady, an old couple and many other beggars - tall, fat, thin, strong and weak, traipsing around the platform. It was an unbelievably sore sight.

Whatever happened to these people to stoop so low? I agree that they do not have good education, may be a place that they can call home or probably no one to care for. But does it mean that they are left with no choice but to seek alms? Have they lost their will power to rise and shine in life? Or just to do something other than begging? I strongly believe that even the lamest fool has some talent left within him - something unique to be put to good use. Where is the missing link? How do they get respect?

I strongly advocate to my friends not to encourage them by giving money, rather showing them in black and white as to how they lead a pathetic life, not out of being submissive to others but by their own choices. They need to know that they can lead a respected life, that they can earn money just like the fortunate others. I sincerely wish that I pluck up courage some day and confront them for good.

Every person is human and deserves a clean and refined life. I look forward to a world which appreciates this profundity and gives a fresh lease of life to hapless people, pulling them out of their misery. 

Visit to Mangammapet village, Arakkonam

I recently took part in a Health Awareness Program held in Mangammapet, Arakonnam. Organised by Boanerges Welfare Trust, it was a first-timer for myself and my two friends. We invited a pastor and a nurse to come along with us. There started our 3 hour journey from Velachery to Park followed by Central to Arakonnam. It was indeed tedious but we were excited and looking forward to the program. 

We reached Arakonnam by around 10:30 hrs, took a share auto and directly went to the church. I liked the village. There were a good number of people at the periphery but as we ventured into the village the count dwindled - it showed. We did not see more than 4 or 5 men; obviously they had gone to work. Groups of women sat under huge trees gossiping, with children goofing around. Most of them lived in huts amidst a sparse sprinkling of solid brick buildings.We reached the church - it was small, cosy and neat. Empty plots all around, a cemetery some 100m away, fresh green trees, cows grazing nearby and rocks heaped at random to lay the road - it was every bit the rural scene.

A women crowd of around 20 assembled in the church and we started the program. It was basic and simple. One of my friends educated them about daily hygiene and fielded questions. We came to know that there was a bout of viral fever around and women expected some medical relief. Our nurse was very helpful and she patiently checked those who were ill and prescribed medicines. Alongside, women who had woes poured them out to the pastor who ever so soothingly prayed for them, giving them advice. I was happy to see an old man (the only man!) with a crop of silver hair come in for a checkup. I was a bit gutted because we expected to spread awareness of chewing tobacco, consuming alcohol and smoking cigars to men and we just had one old man that day. Nevertheless, it was fruitful. We visited two families and prayed for them. 

There was a train to catch and we bid the villagers adieu. Promising to visit them again, we left Arakkonam with warm hearts.

We made good friends; young and old. It was enlightening for all of us. Having experienced the innocence of villagers and their living conditions, I honestly wish that every human reaches out to the under-privileged and offers them intellectual support. 

How 750words.com Helps

I love writing and one of my fervent wishes is to become a bestselling author. 

Sometime back I Googled for stuff that would help me write a novel and I stumbled upon this wonderful competition that is "NaNoWriMo", short for National Novel Writing Month. It is open to anyone who wants to don the writing gloves - the crux is to finish a 50,000 worded novel in a month; honestly a tough task. Yet deeply challenging! A writer should approximately squeeze 1667 words per day and that is where it is quite the meany. I can usually write between 800-900 words a day, twice the number is a feat for me. I definitely needed some start and some push.

Either I tend to run out of ideas or I run out of words. Both ways are bad for a writer and I had to polish my writing to better myself in the literary realm. That is when I discovered 750words.com.

It is a useful site started by Buster Benson (I am ever so grateful to you!) for any blossoming writer, especially ones straining to leap out of the writer's block. You log in, write a minimum of 750 words a day, stick to that routine and feel awesomely glad that you are able to hit that mark every day. The most fantastic thing about this site is the fancy algorithm which categorizes the mood of writing - happy, anxious, upset, affectionate; the mindset - were we negative, positive, introvert, extrovert, certain or uncertain while writing; the rating - PG if your writing carries abusive language and the most frequently used words. It also calculates the total time taken to write, the words per minute and the number of distractions (here a distraction is 3 minutes of non-writing). You have the option to share your writing or keep it just to yourself. 

I am totally chuffed with this serendipitous finding. If you are looking for something to test your writing prowess do try http://www.750words.com/ - it helps a ton, you will not be gutted!

Travelling That Is Bliss

I totally dig travelling and do not mind shelling out fat bucks there. To be in a different place other than home, to see fresh faces and make new friends, taste authentic ethnic cuisine, to buy souvenirs, to immerse in the sheer beauty of a never-before-seen landscape and to click myriad photographs - nothing can get as exciting as this. 

I personally find travel getaways refreshing, relaxing and exhilarating. Not to mention that it broadens my horizon and widens my thought base. 

• There are different people out there to rendezvous - tall and short, black, white and brown, grim and smiling, proud and ever-giving. 
• There are gazillion places to venture to - the breathtaking expanse of flora and fauna just does not suffice the human mind. 
• Likewise, I consider it a silly sin when one restricts himself/herself to her cuisine. If caged within those four walls, one might insanely miss the fantastic varieties of delectable food options. 
• Seeing the same old stuff can pull us into the abyss of boredom. Travelling kicks hard those mundane frames from daily life. It bursts open vivid, vibrant sceneries; the perfect treat for sore eyes! 
• Being an avid photographer (still very very amateur at that!), I do not miss any opportunity to wield my camera and point & shoot at nature, people and other awesome stuff that catch my eye.

Having travelled quite a lot around India, my thirst to foray further is unquenchable. It is two different things - travelling with friends and with family. Each has its own share of enjoyment and free rein that I have come to adore. It is utterly amazing to drift to places every now and then.

Like the famous saying goes - "The world is a book and those who do not travel read only one page." - Saint Augustine of Hippo.

Confessions of a Food-aholic

I have been living for close to 3 decades. There are many things that I like, love, adore and that I am crazy about. It is only recently that I discovered myself as an insane foodie and an exotic eating machine who loves to experiment in the kitchen and wolf down as and when I please. My mom says I hardly spend time in the kitchen (that is coz you are there mom, and gran too!:P). Whenever I get the time I try cooking something different. The results are not grandiose, most of the times. Come on, I just experiment! Yet I absolutely feel the unbreakable bond between me and that delicious thing on the plate. It fills my tummy, makes me happy, brings back that long-forgotten smile back on my face and I feel complete. Food completes me. Tom Cruise, hear this!

I have heard people say, "All You Need Is Love". But I say, the best thing that can ever happen to a person is authentic, relishing, mind-boggling, awesome, lip-smacking, salivating, scrumptious food. 

I say, "All You Need Is Food".

The Last of the Oburumus

There was this online random writing competition where I had to use these four words - "Reluctant, plague, magazine, sleep". This is something I tried out of it!

Aba Oburumu was forced to kneel. Hands tied behind him he fought back, his nerves bulging out at the neck. Only he and his brother, Nalo, remained. With guns pointed at his back and hair yanked to one side, Aba reluctantly gave in. His mother, sister and friends were mercilessly killed. There was blood everywhere - obliquely splattered on the walls, coursing crimson on the road, diluted in the gutter. The strong metallic smell permeated the air, portending death. Tears of loss, anger and fear ran down his cheeks. The mysterious plague robbed him of his dear father barely last week. He knelt hopelessly as the heartless men circled Nalo with shotguns and rifles. One of them kicked Aba from behind and he fell flat on his face. The poking spikes of a shoe crushed his jaw, forcing him to watch Nalo plead for his life. Utterly terrified, Nalo cried his lungs out; hand outstretched calling his brother for help. Aba thrashed furiously on the road and cursed himself. They were outnumbered, he was powerless. The sudden click of a magazine resounded and time froze. Blood oozed from Nalo’s temple; his body went limp, lifeless and he looked every bit asleep. Aba let out an inhuman cry. Hisentire tribe was dead and gone. Another familiar click; his vision blurred and he felt searing pain on the back of his head. He shuddered for one last time, never to wake up again. The Oburumus passed on in a ruthless genocide.

Writing - A Panacea to The Boggled Mind

I read books, experiment in the kitchen, surf the net, play shuttle, commune with nature during my once-in-a-blue-moon walk on the terrace, watch TV, sing songs, sleep and write. All these in random obviously! I enjoy every one of these moments but the sheer satisfaction that I get out of writing is unbeatable. Initially, I preferred writing on paper and kind of abhorred the idea of shunning my wonderful black pen. As I enlightened myself with the trivial yet significant merits of digital writing I gradually started liking it.

• There need not be those squiggly strikethroughs. Tap a key and it does the cleaning.
• Where all have I used "Septuagenarian" in my 1256-word document? Search and find it easily. It is a great relief not to scan through the entire document for one word.
• Formatting options are galore.
• I am not wasting paper.
• I am tree-friendly.
• There are still loads more, these ones steal the bunch for me.

Though dismally tangent at the start, my thoughts somehow channel to make some sense. I enjoy my writing moments as they extensively improve my diction, my thought flow. I get to toy with words, play my own word game - I am a self-confessed logophile. To me, the best part of writing is expressing my emotions. Be it happiness, sorrow, anger, hatred, jealousy or anything that just wants to jump off the chest, I put them into writing. It is my remarkable panacea for all those mind wars.