One twenty? No, one 'twenty'

                                                      

That's how you bargain at Chinatown and Downtown in Kuala Lumpur. The term 'Downtown' might be misleading, it usually refers to the posh areas in top cities. However the 'Downtown' here as it is referred to by locals, offers roadside shopping.
There are three rules to be followed while shopping in these places.
1 .Bargain
2. Bargain more
3. Bargain even more.
Both markets have almost every possible purchasable item known. They draw their own crowd. Shops aren't usually exclusive for one item. There are hundreds of competitors in the same market. Don't write them off, these people are professional in their own way, they are efficient entrepreneurs. They know what works in their business. For instance, just as it began to pour, as I started running to my car, calling out to me was a shopkeeper, "Umbrella for 20 MR. Bargain-able!", the interesting fact being the shopkeeper saying that he is open to a bargain even before the customer reacts.

Chinatown is the Malaysian home for 'Made in China' goods. One doesn't need an explanation for what holds in store there. It is the workplace of hundreds of vendors (who smoke as they work). "Now beware of the sellers here" a local friend of mine had warned. The sellers take to the knife if a purchase is not made after a long bargain!

Downtown offers a comparable experience in a slightly different way. It is a good example of the night life prevailing there. Shops open around 8 in the night and go on till 3 or 4 the next morning depending on the crowd. Couples walk in hand in hand at midnight.  The vendors here mostly work part time. Shops are set up in identical tents but they are distinct on the inside. These vendors are comparitively less aggressive, they don't hide knives.

"Each purchase is an act of mutual understanding between the customer and the vendor. The vendor clearly knows that he over-quotes his item, so does the customer realise that. The initial rates are similar to the ones quoted by Tamil Nadu auto-men to foreign tourists. Exorbitant."

In Chinatown, calculators break the language barrier. Conversations with vendors bear only numbers. A calculator can help accomplish that. So this is how you go, you first point at the desired item. The vendor types in a number (his initial quote in Ringgits) on the calculator and hovers his hand over the 'minus symbol' suggesting a prospective bargain, a definite bargain. You press the minus symbol and make the desired reduction in rate. If my observation is anything to go by, typical bargains end somewhere lesser than midway between the customer and the vendor, the consumer being on the left. This is how an unsuccessful bargain went,
"Black bag" <pointing at it>
"That will be 120MR madam." <'madam' being my mother>
"No, one 'twenty'"
"No madam" <nods no and performs a calculation on the calculator 120-35=85> .
<End of conversation>

At the Downtown, bargaining is not an easy task. The old lady at the 'bag store' was headstrong about the 'green bag' costing 30 MR. There was no room for bargain because the bag was 'water proof and made of 100% leather'. She was generous enough to reduce 5MR each for the other bags we purchased.
It is just the place for ladies crazy about shopping. The shops offer highly fashionable stuff in 'striking colours' as preferred by the locals there.
There are the restaurants that stay open till 3am. There are no competitors here, each restaurant offers a specific food item. There is no menu card, the only item available is clearly identifiable. It is hard for a vegetarian to get stuff to eat in there. He/She could get a cup of  'cut guava' for 2MR, and get more to make a meal. Then there are these shops that sell electronic goods. These goods are packed to perfection, replicating the original packaging. 'Beats Audio' for 15MR! No wonder most music-listeners in the city sport one of them.

Chinatown is the more popular of the two, drawing more foreign customers. Downtown is more restricted to the locals. Nevertheless both these places offer distinct yet enjoyable shopping experiences! So don't forget the extra bag when you plan a trip to KL, for it is sure to become full. Happy shopping!

The crowded streets in Chinatown

The tents in Downtown, closed in the day

No Parking!

#3
The incident described in this article happened a few months ago, when we had dropped by at a relative's place. The place located in a narrow street in Mylapore, had no room for cars to be parked. Parking the car contiguous to the street was ritualistic until then.

An hour after the car was parked, it was missing. The car had either disappeared or been towed by the police, the latter being much more probable. Being my sister's month old car, she was startled. The 'guy at the iron shop' had closed for lunch for the hour and had no clue where the car was. I wasn't shocked, unlike my sister. For me, it was partially exciting for I knew it was a game with the police. And so, we enquired among people who could have seen the car being taken away, no one had any idea. Common sense suggested we could enquire at the nearest police station and so, I along with my father and sister, in my dad's car drove to the Mylapore police station.

'The officer at the entrance' showed us in. The men there were dispersing for lunch and lead us to the Traffic Police department in the first floor. The sight of the first floor left my sister in a daze for it shared a striking similarity to a men's changing room , there was only one police constable in that floor and he was busy with his lunch. As we walked back down, the 'officer at the entrance' suggested we go check at the beach or at the next nearest police station. The next nearest was by my place. And so we drove to the Abhiramapuram police station. The officers there were done with lunch, and they listened to my father with interest. "My car was parked by the street around 11 and .....". They seemed like the better officers at that moment. They suggested we call the control room, and gave us the number. The line was busy.

And there we stood, right before the police station having no idea where the brand new car had been taken. It was not parked in a 'No Parking' zone.  Moreover, it wasn't the idea of the second to park it at that spot. Highly frustrated but keeping his cool was my dad. Just as we decided to go to the beach to look for the car, an attempt to reach the control room succeeded. My sister explained solicitously to the 'officer on the line', "It wasn't parked in a No Parking zone, it is a brand new car". Calling back after five minutes, the 'officer on the line' confirmed that a car towed matching the mentioned description had been taken to the beach or The Music Academy junction.

The MA was the next spot. From a distance, my sister spotted her car parked under the flyover next to the towing van and a traffic police officer. Parking the car haphazardly, my father, and sister got off the car. I used the opportunity to enhance my parking skills and parked the car better.

Frustrated and heaving a sigh of relief at the sight of her car, she interrogated 'the officer' why her car had been towed. "The Governor had to pass by the road". That was the answer. Disgusted by the hasty response, my dad asked why there was no information left about where the car was being taken. He wanted answers for the hour we had just spent in agony. "Governor varam bodhu car ah nirithna apdi dhan pannuvom" were the words of reply.  The calm was lost. My dad wanted legitimate answers. After a few heated exchanges, the police officer fetched the key, didn't unlock the wheel yet. He had just taken his billing machine out. Demanding a fine of 500 from us, he carried on billing. My father stopped him from doing so. He wasn't ready to pay the fine, not for the amount, but because there was no wrong on our side. When asked what the fine was for, he replied it was for the car being parked on the road when the Governor passed by. When we argued it wasn't a 'No Parking' zone, he hastily said it wasn't a Parking Zone. Looks like there is something that we have all missed between Parking and No Parking.
This led me to these inferences : Never park your car in a place that does not have a 'Parking' sign. Paste your personal contact details on the windshield of the car to make it easier for the police to reach you. (sarcastic suggestion by the officer)

Balked at the purpose of the fine, my father refused, 'the officer' contemptuously replied he wouldn't release the car. The disrespectful comments infuriated me. I decided to take help from my 'influential friend'. I knew I wasn't taking advantage for there was no wrongdoing on my side and for we had been treated crudely. I remember shrieking at one of the police officer's harsh remarks before I decided to take it to my friend. The 'influential friend' was quick to respond. All he wanted to know was the name of the police officer. I could see my father succumbing to the officer's demands as I was on the line, I shouted from a distance asking him to wait. I didn't want it to be an episode where the police officer had his way even when he was on the wrong side.
The officer threatened to move the car to the beach if the fine wasn't paid immediately.
It all had to happen at the same moment, as my father drew currency notes out of his wallet (to pay the fine), as the policeman re-towed the car, came a phone call. 'The officer' responded with respect on the line. It was from an authoritative person. I do not take pride in saying this, again, I hadn't taken advantage of my friend's resources.
It is stupefying what a phone call can do. The police officer, who showed no signs of respect until then unlocked the wheel and had just three words to say and I quote "Kavalthurai Ungal Nanban".

Had the 'infuential friend' not been there, we would have had to accede to the police officer. This is not thanking the friend. "Why did my car which was parked very much in the corner have to be moved for the Governor to pass by?, Why did the officer show such baffling disrespect?, Why were we asked to pay a fine!" are the unanswered questions.
British prime minister David Cameron took to the Metro Rail after a speech of his a few years back, while the Governor here requires a convoy and the road to be cleared to make it through the way. The police officer was definitely not a friend as he had claimed.
Thoughts about our country being a politically bad one flooded me that day. I respect policemen, it would be wrong to judge them with one incident.
Unwilling to indulge in any further exchange with the police officer, we returned to the relative's place for the special lunch.

Meeting the Superstar

#2

Not many get the opportunity. I am one among the very few fans who was fortunate enough to meet the Superstar, yes Rajinikanth. It is amazing how his real life is so different from what we get to see on screen. It is stardom that many have only dreamt of. Yet, that dosen't show in his real life persona.

Rajinikanth is clearly a league above stars of his level in the sister industries. So how did I get to meet him? It was 2010 when I was in my 11th grade. GVC (Group Vocational Course) was a subject we had in school. We hardly had GVC classes as most of them were converted to English classes as the same teacher was incharge of both subjects. We had to do a project for the dumbest subject we had. The topic goes 'Living Legends'. It was an insignificant project for an unimportant subject. Scribblings on sheets of paper torn from books could make an 'A' grade GVC project. But we had different ideas. Yes Rajinikanth was our Living Legend and we met him as part of the project. The project had to be done in teams of four. Teams were chosen based on that day's seating arrangement and that is where luck favoured me. Hareshwar, a classmate (son of a very influential person) found himself sitting next to me unusually. He was a back bencher. He had come next to me only because the guy who usually sat there was absent on that day. He could get almost anything done. Want to meet Rajinikanth? Yeah done.

So that's how we got to meet him. I readied the project in half an hour as I got home that day. Yes I had scribbled too but on A4 sheets. Three sheets that contained a quarter of Rajinikanth's Wikipedia page made my project. It was enveloped with a beautiful poster from his yet-to-be-released- movie then, Endhiran.
On the following day as I walked into the classroom, I was surprised to see Hareshwar come to school so early. He was known for the drama he created in the first period having come late. He told me and my fellow team guys who had just arrived "We are going to meet Rajini at 10". The three of us gave cliched reactions, "Apdiya?" "Epidi da?" "Dei sama da!".

And so we walked out of the class (individually like a boss) at 9. We were given permission by the principal to leave the campus. We were on a roll. As I said, Hareshwar had extrordinary resources.
Raghavendra Kalyana Mandapam was where Rajinikanth had his meditation sessions. We were scheduled to meet him there right after his session. We walked into a room in the top most floor of the building accompanied by police constables. The room had two doors both of which were closed as we sat there waiting for the Superstar to finish meditating. We were given glasses of Lassi when the 'other door' was opened, opened by..... Rajinikanth. He glanced at the four of us dressed in school uniform and said, "Wanga" in typical Rajini style and shook hands with each one of us.

Superstar shaking hands after entering from the 'other door'

And so we walked into his meditation hall. Dressed in a plain White Kurta, with rubber slippers and wearing a watch with 'Om' written in the dial, stood Rajinikanth as the 'influential father' reminded Rajinikanth of his first meeting with him.
It truly isn't exaggeration when people cite him as an example for the epitome of simplicity.

It was time to show our project. Embarrassed, I handed over the file to Rajini. He smiled at the cover picture and quickly turned through the three pages. It contained nothing that could surprise him. He signed on the cover page as new ideas popped into my mind now. We were going to add another page to the biggest project ever, an Interview with Rajini. Responding to my friend's query about the secret of his success he replied saying it was sheer hard work and about using opportunities as and when they come. When I asked him what his advice to his fans would be, he said it is important to always try to be the best in what you do, one should never feel inferior and should have faith in god. He took these questions very seriously. When asked, he listened carefully with a shrunken forehead. We didn't ask him anything new, yet he listened and answered with interest.
It was time to click some pictures with the Superstar. The four of us stood next to him, two on either side. After two clicks he suggested we could come individually and that he had the time. It was now a dream come true. The photographer couldn't resist asking Rajini for a click and Rajini gladly agreed with a smiling face.

It is not for his kind gestures that I call him simple and down to earth. It is for everything that I had seen. Right from the way the man dressed to the manner in which he spoke to us, it was clear the Superstar is a simple person. He probably feels what he has achieved is nothing extrordinary and that his stardom is a gift from god. He is the most celebrated person in the country. His then-upcoming movie was the biggest in the continent. Nothing showed. He was like an ordinary person, a star who had surrendered to some power above him that he had seen.

The fifteen minutes I still cherish had come to an end. He walked out of the room waving at us, down the stairs and into his Ambassador car.

The legendary team with Rajinikanth, the second one from the left being Hareshwar.

Giving a title is harder than writing an article # 1

#1
This is my first blog. I don't have any experience as a writer. I am open to any comments from people reading this blog. Criticism and suggestions will be much appreciated.

The one and a half hour - journey back from my college had just started. The traffic was on an unusual high that day. Hot and humid with the summer just starting to set in, inside the bus sat forty odd people waiting for the traffic to clear. I sat at my usual place in the sixth row with my leg folded against the seat in front of me. 'The guy with the curly hair' was sitting next to me sleepy. Reacting to a text he had just received, he shouted "Machan one week leave da!" It was sudden joy. None of us could take it in immediately. My college works under any situation. But what had happened? What had caused my college to close down for a week? As most of us pondered over these questions, we heard that all colleges in the state had been ordered to shut down as part of the Tamil Eelam protests.
Students had begun protesting. We pass by atleast 10 colleges on our way back in the OMR. Students sat at the entrance of a famous college which we pass by protesting. They had posters and placards. It was like it was already planned. That sight made me wonder if the students were really into such political situations. Were they?
The joy of knowing that the next few days were off was special. I celebrated that night with a long drive in OMR . And no there weren't any student protesters at that time. I planned to use the week off productively. I knew the next few weeks were going to be hectic. But as things turned out, neither did I use the week productively nor did the colleges re-open the following week.
Next Monday it was, as I woke up I saw infront of me yet another week off. "I just have to spend this week productively." I said to myself. Not caring to brush, I spoke to my parents about In-plant Training programmes and how I wanted to do something different. This wasn't new to them. They were familiar with this side of me which wanted to do something different once in a while. It was just a morning talk. None of us bothered to talk about it later. But I had serious plans. I wanted to study, it had been quite a while since I did. So did I open my book right after lunch. Some things never fail to happen. I never fail to fall asleep on my book after lunch. After waking up two hours later I ended up reading articles like "How to stay awake after lunch".
Social networking, texting, reading confession pages were part of daily life now.
Friends from other colleges in the state had come to the city. It was time to meet up, game and have some fun! And that is exactly what we did. But as the week drew to a close, I was left wondering with the same question. Why did we have so many days off? Were the students really involved in this? I had read only 10% of the students protested. I inquired how it would be if the rest protested for the colleges to re-open. I kept this revolutionary idea to myself. I had gotten into the habit of lazing around quite nicely and I didn't want to give up on that.
Mid week it was. News channels had gotten into the act questioning the reason for colleges to remain closed. "Students on an indefinite holiday streak", "Colleges remain shut" were the phrases of the hour. For us students at this point in time, it was joy combined with anxiety for by then all of us knew tough days were ahead as soon as the colleges re-opened. My college authorities were as clueless as its students were. None knew what was going on. Results were out all of a sudden. I got grades that I didn't expect. (No, in a bad way)
There were posts on social networking sites now that said students were solicitously waiting for colleges to re-open. I honestly wasn't. I liked the situation I was in all through.
But the fact that a small group of people could manipulate big decisions was a thing to worry about. As my father told me, the truth is out of the 10% that took to the streets to protest a very small percentage knew what they were actually doing. For the rest it was just fun. It isn't such a major thing here after all to shut down more than 500 colleges in the state. The decision by the government was probably an act of over-cautiousness.
Finally colleges are set to re-open. I am no way waiting for it to open but I know I should be. 11 working days aren't easy to compensate at the college level. All weekends henceforth in the current semester are going to be working weekends. Am I worrying about the tough days ahead? Actually no. I have a 'totally worth it' feeling inside me now and hope I don't mind sweating it out over the next few weeks.