If Mahabalipuram was fun because of the photography, Pondicherry promised to be better because of the photography and the booze. We goy out of Mahabalipuram and drove on to Pondicherry. Pondy was a french colony before the French gave it up and went back home. However as one enters Pondy, the only thing that probably strikes one as being out of the ordinary is some sort of a tax that has to be paid for driving within Pondy. Still the booze kept me going on. I also wanted to see what the french architecture is all about.Mr Shiva kept up his taciturn demeanour as he deposited us at a huge under-construction temple where photography is prohibited.
Pilgrims had written their prayers on strips of paper, hoping to be heard. The priests inside were all out in their traditional costumes, people standing in a queue for their sight of the idol. All very fine but I went out and ate Khichdi that an old man was distributing to the poorer pilgrims around. Was delicious. We went on to where the action lay. As we entered the city I sa my first policeman in the French kepi and was most excited, much to the amusement of Mr Shiva who asked if I wanted to take a picture. Of course I do, I replied and he just drove on, eventually stopping on the Rue de la Marine in front of a couple of push carts selling pirated pornographic DVD's.
The Rue de la Marine was probably the most important street earlier. Now it has the french consulate and the Aurobindo Ashram and has a couple of important landmarks nearby. Walking down the street one reaches the sea.
An old man on the RDL Marine opposite the Aurobindo Ashram. I looked on for my policeman in the Kepi, wouldnt go back without him.
The french connection.
The french consulate, has an old door with stained glass inside. Photography here is prohibited. I took this picture sitting at a cafe opposite the consulate, the sea breeze blew the paper plate away and stained my only clean shirt. The consulate has the flags of France and the european Union that are dutifully hoisted down at sunset.
As i chanced across this street, i remembered for some unknown reason these lines that I had read as a school boy in a musty english textbook. With compliments and apologies to O'Hara, from "The Last Leaf"

The Rue de la Marine was probably the most important street earlier. Now it has the french consulate and the Aurobindo Ashram and has a couple of important landmarks nearby. Walking down the street one reaches the sea.




In a little district west of

Contrasted merrily with this tropue of rather giggly and definitely pretty school girls who like all good school girls had made a line to get into the Aurobindo Ashram. They gave us magnificient company until the time that we were there. My friend gaurav was ready to leave psychiatry and spend the rest of his life here.

Photography inside the Aurobindo ashram is not allowed. It was beautiful inside. I know nothing about Aurobindo, but when I got back, I did some reading and found some interesting stuff here. The samadhi was covered with flowers with all manners of people sitting besides it, with their heads bowed, touching the marble and lost in meditation. Fair number of foreigners too, and people in wheelchairs. They are supposed to be espescially benifited by his presence. Such scenes, always fail to move me. Maybe I am a bit psychopathic.







Thereafter, we got to a shopping area where we all brought some cheap and non-pornographic pirated DVD's. Haggled and bargained in sign language and got one for Rs 20/- only.
Soon we reached an alcohol shop, as is common in the south, people drink standing at the counter of the shop. the helpful shopkeepers provide the glasses. We brought more than adequate quantities of beer and a bottle of brandy for Mr Shiva and drove back. Mr shiva helped out by being fantastic and producing out of the boot of the car some MP3's with punjabi songs. And we all sang along.
As the diuretic and the intoxicating action of the beer kicked in, we all raised our little fingers and asked Mr Shiva to stop where we could leave a mark in the Bay of Bengal. Mr Shiva thought for a long moment and said, "saar, there is Rs 50 fine for doing that". We took his warning and irrigated the coconuts instead.