Vishful Thinking

2011-05-15T16:33:00.003+05:00

याद

एक अरसे के बाद जब आई उनकी याद,

समायी जैसे जान एक ज़िन्दगी के बाद,

ज़बान चलने लगी, कदम बोल पड़े, "अब क्या लेने आये हो?"

याद ने अपने माथे से पसीना हटाया,

तेज़ साँसों को धीमी की,

और थकीसी मुस्कान बोली, "पहले पानी तो पिला दो..."

बत्तीसी ने बता दिया, हाथों ने दिखा दिया,

शीशे में रहता नहीं पानी, बहती है तो बस में.

गर मेहमान को न हो ऐतराज़, तो पिला दूं मैं?

अपनी तौबा को उन्हूने कोने में बिठाया,

बेशरम ने अपना हाथ जाम की ओर बढाया

मेज़बान-नवाजी की उन्हूने फिर तो हद्द दिखाई,

थोड़ी और, थोड़ी और की जब रट लगायी

पीते तो हम भी हैं बेहिसाब, जनाब,

पर उस दिन लग रही थी हर शराब, खराब.

जब शीशों से आने लगी आवाजें,

सन्नाटा सा बातों में आने लगा,

जब हो गए खाली प्याले,

अन्दर बाँध सा कुच्छ बन्ने लगा.

डालकर खाली प्यालों पर तरसी हुई नज़र,

दे दिया याद ने खातिरदारी का वास्ता

की "याद को याद मत करना, जाम के साथ,

ख़त्म हो जाएगी जाम, पर याद नहीं."

टूटा दिल तो अब कुछ भी न रहा,

जब टूटते हुए बाँध का जैसे मज़ा ही और था!

नमकीन नदियों से समाने लगे थे प्याले,

जिनपर गिरने लगे थे बादल बरसने वाले.

"जाम को न याद करना हमारे साथ,

याद ख़त्म हो जायेगी पर यह जाम नहीं."

याद बोली,

"येही तोह था वोह पानी, जो हमको चखना है,

लौटकर मोह्तारना को, जिसका स्वाद बताना है"

2009-10-04T19:58:00.016+06:00

Nathdwara - Chowpatty

Yes, there is a 'Chowpatty' in Nathdwara too!

I suspect it is called so after the stalls of junk-food (like Girgaon Chowpatty in Mumbai) occupying a 'chowk' in the middle of the main road to the Temple.

We don't really venture into the lanes - that may be serving pav-bhaji, pizzas and other 'Bombay-style' food.

We gorge on the 'Suran-batata' and 'thandai' that catch your attention as the front-most stalls. It's a feast for those fasting, as according to the flexible fasts Vaishnavs have, we can eat a few selected variety of foods that is prepared very well here.

There are also a handful of 'thandai'-walas who make some awesome milk with dry-fruits and will include a dose of bhaang (domestic herbal intoxicant) on request.

Then there is Shankar, popularly known as Shankar Shikanji-wala.

Shikanji is a soda-based lemon drink, to which Shankar adds a masala made from his own recipe and he says that it can cure all kinds of acidity and digestion-related problems, apart from tasting really great! And indeed, we use the masala in different preparations - sandwiches, salads, etc and it adds a tasty zing to the food it touches.

But that is not the only reason why people visit his cart opposite Moti Mahal late evening, for a post-dinner, digestive Shikanji.

Shankar, is a crowd-puller of sorts. He has this act that he has been consistently being doing - since years - where he pretends to have lost in love, but is still hopeful that a girl called 'Dolly' (based in Jamnagar) who he is dating, will say yes to marriage. Cries out "Dolllyyyy..." in despair.

If you turn up with someone, he might try and embarrass you by asking, "Tumhari saathe Shilpa-ben hata ee kyan gya?" (Where is the lady called Shilpa who was with you earlier?) In all probability, you get taken aback and while you try to explain to people with you that you had not been here before, especially not with a Shilpa, he'll prepare the Shikanji and hand it to you with a mischievous smile and say, "Vandho nahi!" (No problem!)

Jokes apart, for some great Shikanji and masala to bring back - head to this guy!

As you return from darshan, for some great tea, there is the shop at the end of the first lane to the left.

It serves tea in earthern cups - but whatever the cup be - the tea is great! Especially if you're having it at 5 am, right after Mangla-darshan.

You could, well, have the poha along with it too, for an excellent start to the day!

Jai Shri Krishna!

2009-10-04T17:17:00.002+06:00

Shrinathji (Nathdwara) - The Rush

Going to Shrinathji is always fulfilling. Ask any Vaishnav. There is a rush that builds up, leads to a climax and then there is a relief. Strange way of making someone feel at peace - excite them, and then remove the excitement. What remains is relief - and peace. And satisfaction, of achieving what you set out to do.

Let me explain. The temple at Nathdwara remains a house of chaos - for a few minutes every few hours. There are five to six darshans or jhankis (peeks) of the Lord. These are at different stages of the day, starting from morning (Mangla), dressing up (Shringar), cow-herding (Gval), meal (Raj-bhog), waking up after siesta (Uthapan), snacks (Bhog), bring cows home (Aarti), retire for the night (Shayan) and more or fewer jhankis depending on the Utsavs (festivals) or seasons. Check here and here for illustrations and more details.

The primary difference between Shrinathji and other religious places of worship, is that here, there are multiple jhankis of the same idol in the same day, while other places of worship - whether it is Shirdi, Tirupati, Siddhivinayak, Vaishnodevi, Dargahs, Churches and Gurudwaras - do not differ in darshan (or any term used to describe worship) through the day. This poses as a logistical challenge for temple authorities because before and after each jhanki, the core temple premises have to be evacuated and shut down. And there is a fresh queue for the next jhanki.

Actually there is no concept of a 'queue'. We have been going to Shrinathji ever since but we have never ever seen a disciplined way of doing darshan. There is always this crowd that is pushing itself against the doors of the temple and the slightest sound of the heavy latches gets everyone excited and pushing to be first to get darshan. When we (sister or cousins) were kids and went for darshan together, we used to look at every darshan as a battle - to fight other bhakts, poke them, elbow them, stamp on their feet - only to keep distance and retaliate the aggression and physical force we were subject to only for the joy of getting the first darshan - and getting darshan for the longest time. If we were with our mothers in the ladies section, we would make our way to the front to be able to get a clear view from the front. If we were with our fathers, we would look for any support on the walls or dividers and get an elevation of a foot or two. Or dad would simply lift us on shoulders and give us a view that would make everyone want to be a kid.

I always wondered why did there have to be so much chaos and running around at the beginning of every darshan. Could there not be queues and a system to avoid anxiety, accidents and quarrels? Over the years, there were numerous attempts at organizing and re-organizing the way darshan happened. In fact, there are stories that the Ambanis (also devotees who visit regularly) offered to fund a re-structuring but temple authorities would not allow that as they feel, like our ministers and politicians, that they would lose authority and power if there would not be chaos.

Anyways, when i went there this year, i said to myself that i will not add to the chaos and run along with others, but will be calm and do darshan in a patient manner. However, after checking into our accommodation, i was the first to have a shower and set off for darshan before my parents. I could find myself walking briskly - even running at times - to the temple. Maybe i didn't want to reach late and find the jhanki over. Having reached the temple and finding the gates open, i could have heaved relief. But i would only walk faster and climbed stairs swiftly enough to leave my plans of patience behind. I knew i was rushing. I knew it was not only because i thought i would miss the darshan. In fact, that could not be the reason because i was already inside the temple. But i was still rushing. Or feeling the rush, rather. I could feel someone calling me. And i was merely responding to the call.

One look at Shrinathji and i felt the relief i feel only there. The rush subsides and converts to a joy, taking the form of a smile or a tear, depending on the person. There was little rush. So i stayed on kept looking at the temple and its Lord. An important feature of the temple are its jhapatias (slappers). Their job is to slap devotees with a piece of cloth as a sign of asking them to quickly finish their darshan and move ahead to make way for other devotees. Something like bouncers and policemen put together. Some bhakts go and offer to be hit be the jhapatias as a blessing. It didn't matter at that time, as there was little rush. Those in a hurry had their darshan and were driven out. Those who came in late didn't find the rush and stayed on for a longer view. I stayed on till the curtains fell on the jhanki.

Walking back, i could see the gates closed, as preparations were on for the next jhanki. And people were already sitting in front of the doors, waiting for them to open. Waiting for the next jhanki. Waiting for the next rush.

2009-09-29T16:45:00.004+06:00

Trip 2009

Mumbai - Shrinathji (Nathdwara) - Udaipur - Jaipur - Delhi - Mcleodgunj - Triund - Dharamsala - Amritsar - Delhi - Mumbai.

Thanks to:

Subin, Delhi - for suggesting a place like Mcleodgunj and being there on call when i wanted guidance

Swati, Delhi - for pushing me to go to Triund

Megha and Kavish, Udaipur - for being great hosts, showing me around and the time at Jag Mandir

Adi Chordia, Jaipur - for the beer, the sight-seeing and a temp phone :D

Prajjal and Sannita, Delhi - for the pad in Delhi and all the directions (however confusing they were)

Santosh and Shashank - for supporting us trek to Triund

My team, at office - for allowing me leave and not calling me up

...and Kunal - for being a great companion (and carrying my bag when i couldn't).

Will put up some pictures and experiences from the places visited.

Cheers!

2009-02-15T16:42:00.004+05:00

Shankar ‘trains’ Mumbaikars

The steps of Asiatic Library (aka Town Hall) were converted into seats and traffic was diverted from around Horniman Circle as the road would be converted into an amphitheatre for Shankar-Ehsaan-Loy’s performance at the Kala Ghoda Festival.

Shankar Mahadevan was at his usual best, belting out one hit after the other – all fairly recent, from Dil Chahta Hai, Rock On, Kal Ho Na Ho and more.

While the few of us found a place to stand and from where we could get a view of the stage we got a better view from one of the camcorders’ display screen instead. I was trying to keep pace with Shankar’s ‘Breathless’ and hoped no one was listening to me. But then, I hoped someone noticed, in case i was left breathless.

Anyways, they played ‘Mitwa’ from Kal Ho Na Ho and Shankar asked the crowd, as they usually do, to sing along. “No no no no…the trains in Mumbai go all the way to Virar. Yours’ stopped somewhere at Dadar.” he complained, referring to how long the crowd stretched ‘Mitwaaaaa….’. Try again, and he went, “…kahe dhadkane tujhse kya…” and just when he pointed the mic at the crowd, I suspect all the air in the atmosphere must have been sucked in by the audience who were ready with a deep breath to pull the song through to ‘Virar’. And we went, “Mitwaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa….”. “Viraaar!!” he announced and the crowds felt like they had become opera singers!

Later, he had a jugalbandi with the audience and tested vocal chords of Mumbaikars, and gave us 95%.

But I guess you do get punished for trying to be God – my throat still hurts.

2007-02-08T19:12:00.000+05:00

Wait!

I remember "Baa" telling me stories of her trips to Africa and other places. The pride and relief on her face said that she was waiting for someone to come and listen to them. Since many years though, the only sound that came from her room (apart from that a creaky fan) was of heavy gasps of breaths - quick and loud - almost like hiccups. Every gasp seemed to wait for the next one.

Mother of a family-friend, she passed away two days ago. As if her waiting for the last breath wasn't enough, her body too had to wait in the morgue. Her eldest son was coming from the US for the last rites. But he was waiting too, in transit, somewhere in the Middle East.

Everyone was waiting for him. And he came on time, thanks to Election Day - clear traffic and no waiting on the road.

People had gathered for the funeral and were waiting for the family to start the procession. An elderly couple in sparkling white had to rush back as they had friends waiting at CCI.

As the pre-procession rites started, some tears started rolling down. Others might have decided to wait.

Just when the sons were about to carry the mammoth weight on their shoulders they were asked to wait. An elderly gentleman, a childhood friend of Baa, was being helped down the stairs. He wouldn't have waited 10 months to step out of the house if only the housing society had not stopped waiting for an elevator.

Once the procession started, it didn't have to wait for anything. On its way, it saw polling stations waiting for voters and to-be Municipal Corporators waiting for results. It reached the crematorium in no time but had to wait for older, slower legs to reach.

Before the final prayers were being offered, chairs below the fans were waiting to get occupied and chats were waiting to resume. Condolences and sympathies could wait.

The trapdoor opened. The fire was waiting. The body slid in and the door shut as if it had waited enough.

"But why an electric crematorium?" I asked myself. Maybe they didn't want to _ _ _ _.

Is 'waiting' such an integral part of our lives? Or have we made it so? Is it possible to wait for only those things we really want to wait for?

p.s. Drop in an answer if you don't want to wait for mine. And I can't wait to find out what you think!

2006-07-14T00:00:00.000+05:00

Cut the 'Spirit-of-Mumbai' crap

Okay. So there's been another tragedy, loved-ones lost, lives affected, business drained, people shatterred, shocked and scared. But Aamchi Mumbai is 'back on its feet'. Back to work as if nothing has happenned. Back in the rat race by dusting itself off after slipping on a hurdle. Back to a mechanical life where the only breather is an interruption that disrupts life on a large scale. We are supposed to be in grief, but we are celebrating THE SPIRIT OF MUMBAI.

I think this 'spirit' that everybody talks about is at the most worth acknowledging and appreciating, but not glorifying and celebrating. I beg to differ, but according to me, this 'spirit', is the spirit of this city - that has died long back. And still dies everyday. We don't pay too much attention to it as this phrase has been hammerred into our brains by the audience-hungry media, authors (of books on Mumbai), politicians and whoever needs to say something about the city. Maybe the media and some authors use it in perspective - as a social support or to project an amiable image of the city. But why do we get carried away by a minister hailing his praja for being a good one. Case-in-point: State Chief Minister Vilasrao Deshmukh and Union Home Mnister Shivrao Patil - who would might as well have said that they have more faith in this 'spirit' than in their abilities.

I don't want to sound like wussbag that blames the burearocrat for every pot-hole on the road. All I am trying to ask this Mumbaikar who 'takes every tragedy in his stride', is - "Why do you allow somebody to slap you, punch you, rape your sister, shove a knife up your arse and go away with everything you own, leaving you behind to see a family in pain? Why dude, why? And how do you even get the motivation to go to work the next day?" Gandhi spoke about taking only a slap, not a molestation of rights. But we sell our moral fibre to a bunch of verbose bastards who applaud our silence, helplessness and ignorance of rights by calling it the 'Spirit of Mumbai'. It's like your body-guard appreciating the way you held yourself, got up from a pool of blood to wear your torn underpants after getting beaten by a stranger. You don't ask him where he was, what he was doing and why he didn't do anything. On the contrary you smile coyly, embaressed by your own 'resilience' and give him a hike and a day off. I know, it's not as bad as it sounds. It's only worse.

Please don't get me wrong. I am not even talking about the motormen returning to the Dead Man's Handle. I am not even talking about the helpful nature and positive attitude that people of this city show when calamity strikes. That is indeed applaudable and such a show of selflessness and brotherhood can be seen only in a city with a social fabric like ours. But that is where the selflessness should stop. What I have a problem with, is people getting used to the pain only because they can bear it. What I have a problem with, is the masking of incompetence, unaccountability, unpreparedness and corruption with an excuse that the city will be able to cope with anything. And this excuse called 'spirit' is being confused with the patience, attitude and resilience that the city has.

I know life needs to get back to normal. I know the victims and the affected are looking around for signs of sympathy, strength and normalcy. I know it's not correct to point fingers when there are people who need a shoulder. But I also know that we have a short memory. I also know that we forgive easily - not because we want to give a second chance, but because we are too busy making money. I also know that we're used to getting raped and some of us just can't live without it.

Either people of this city are being fooled, or they are changing. I can think of four reasons why the city wants to get back on its feet so soon after a tragedy.
1) We've become insensitive. We've already become blind to beggars and deaf to cries of pain. A crowded train with commuters hanging on with a finger and a toe do not make us sigh. Sights of hunger and malnutrition do not bother us. We are strong Mumbaikars, our hearts do not melt as they are made of stone.
2) A reason we don't do anything or even cause a whimper for our lost rights could be because we've given up hopes for our city. We shamelessly believe that no change can happen and the administrative machinery can be oiled only by money. We also believe that going out to vote for or against anybody will not help. We believe that we can't change our lives, forget changing the world.
3) We're too busy making money and don't want to mess around with our cash flows and dreams of a bigger house and a faster car. Time is important - corporates lose millions if they do not work for even a day. But they lose money everyday because of bad roads, poor electricity and weak infrastructure. Our economy loses too, but not as much as through defence allocations.
4) And the mother of all illegitimate reasons is - indifference. Perhaps, we just don't care! Perhaps, we feel it does not affect us. Surely, what has the city given to us that you should care for it? It didn't give opportunity - we grabbed it. It didn't create an environment in which our ideas and talents could thrive. We created that environment. The city didn't even give us money - we earned it. And we return favours, if any, by paying taxes. Why, we even pay bribes! After all, why should we care about the city and its people. And its future. We won't be here in future. We'll be settled somewhere in the States looking down on the non-existent standard-of-living.

Whatever reason or excuse ti may be, my fundamental grieviance is with our behaviour. We'll follow an unconstitutional bandh and not go to work if some bird craps on a bust, but we won't show concern to lost lives by staying back to spend time with affected families, share their grief and give them hope. We'd might as well make some money, right? So we'll wear a blood-stained shirt to work. If Mumbai is home to you, those living here are your family. Would you get back into the grind if someone from this larger family is no more? By getting back to 'normal life' within hours of a tragedy, what are we trying to prove and to whom?

The 'spirit' is not in getting back to work in record time. It is to understand and act on the message being sent by terrorsists. Unless we take notice and demand action, we'll have to keep taking death in our stride. There are millions of people around the world for whom every day is either a 9/11, 7/7 or 11/7. People of these religions and communities don't know whether they'll return home in the evening. What terrorsists want is an acknowledgement of this fact and compassionate behaviour in return. If we cannot act on the message, they will keep reminding us with more messages. Sir Manmohan Singh said that India will not kneel in front of anybody. Maybe it affects national pride. Really? What are we gonna do with the pride? If giving Kashmir away will affect national pride, think again about what you plan to do with the pride. There might not be anybody left to enjoy it.

I don't say war is a solution. But I don't even say that taking terrorism in your stride is a good thing. There are better things to unite upon - we don't need grief. If this point of view seems drastic, check out The Times of India (July 13, 2006) and Hindustan Times (July 13, 2006). Articles voicing similar concerns gave reassurance to my thoughts. I don't know why I chose this moment to think about it. I guess it is the personal loss I have sufferred. It is a pathetic way to keep sensitivity alive and I hope nobody has to see blood to realize its worth.

Anyways, we're back to our lives. Back like the commercial break. Back like the monthly bills. But NOT like the tide, the sun and the seasons. Because these are natural - we are not.

2006-07-06T11:54:00.000+05:00

Respondents I Remember

While doing consumer research as part of my summer internship, I got to visit Coimbatore and New Delhi. I met a lot of people to interview them with my lengthy questionnaire. Much against my wishes, I interrupted couples holding hands, parents cajoling their kids, teenagers chilling out, students filling admission forms, and lots of people in the middle of something or the other.

“I don’t have the heart to disturb people when they’re having a good time.” I groused to somebody from advertising. Then, he told me, I was in the wrong business as advertising and marketing are all about interrupting people. I could disagree with support from Craig Davis' quotes.

Anyways, from the hundreds of people ‘interrupted’ by me, some are stuck in my memory – either with reason or without. I enjoyed two of the best perks a marketing job can give: traveling and meeting people. Here’s an attempt to recall…

Mumbai is where I started my research and met people at various places.

Rajeev Mehra was with a couple of friends at Nariman Point and was probably having a post-lunch chat. As I approached them and asked for some time, they begged for forgiveness but Rajeev obliged. “Apun ne bhi bahut kiya hai, la.” he said. Don’t be impressed by his show of sympathy. He only screwed up the questionnaire. Writing occupation as ‘Market Research’ is an indicator of his sadist tendency. He selected options that were most different, perhaps to mess with the skew of data. I guess his favourite was the Likert Scale. He ticked diagonally, zig-zag and straight. I wonder if he read anything. His answer to “What’s the coolest thing you’ve done in the last week?” was – sex. Collective advice they gave me? “Kya itna kaam kar raha hai. Fill them on your own, yaar!”

It was a Saturday noon when my haversack of questionnaires and me headed for Jai Hind College. Thought we’d get some students to talk to. Just as I entered the gate, a girl came rushing to me, asking for a favour. No, she only wanted me to get interviewed by her camera-laden team. We’d scratch each others’ backs. Sindhu Satish turned out to be a BMM student doing her internship in an ad agency and had come with her team to interview people. She was so soft-spoken that I had trouble listening to what she was saying from two feet away. I later discovered that she usually does that save her voice. A trained singer, Sindhu had reached one of the final rounds of Indian Idol 2. She intends to make singing a profession.

I met Jasmine Eunice in the canteen of a medical college on my first day in Coimbatore. A fair, chubby female in salwar-kameez with a lovely and warm smile. I interviewed her and later regretted not taking her number or e-mail. Maybe I didn’t need to. The next I was at Nilgiri’s (a famous supermarket) and walking along Aravanshi Road along my way to Racecourse Road. Surprise surprise! Who do I see! We say hi to each other as if we’ve been old buddies and give brief intro’s. I took her e-mail and she gives me her palm to jot my contact down. I didn’t want her to be seen taking numbers on her hand in the middle of the road, in front of her friend. Like a good boy, I take out a post-it and hand her the details. “I’ll wait for your mail.” she says. Very eagerly that evening, I went to a cyber café to write her a mail asking her to show me around. The mail still bounces back.

(to be continued…)

2006-03-05T10:53:00.000+05:00

Helping others can be quite a drain. Ask Spidey.

2006-01-03T15:03:00.000+05:00

Window to the 'underworld'