Salaam Bombay! - Part 1 - Story of an Iced tea robbery.

A couple of years back, a trip to the cinemas, reset me and left me in a pleasant flashback mode. Mr Danny Boyle’s latest masterpiece- Slumdog Millionaire- with it’s clever sepia shots brought  back a lot of sinking memories of my two month stint in one of the busiest, craziest (in a good way!), and intoxicating places in the world- Mumbai…

I am sure a lot has been written, said, painted and even sung about this amazing place! So although I am itching to go on about the vibrancy, the buzz, the people, the colours and the love of this place…I am going to try and control it!

Just a few anecdotal incidents and the reflections (did anyone yawn ;-)!)

First let me introduce ‘the Mumbai power cut’ to you. From those of us from India, it is no big deal but to people from the richer parts of the world I better make it clear. So, it is two hours of no power, and that used to be in the middle of the day and it is so hot that if you spread raw rice on the ground, it would get cooked or even roasted in no time! Life went on, nothing stops- offices went on as usual, traffic remained the same, the street vendors took no notice, the house wives carried on with a hand fan…Mumbai kept flowing- with a chaotic calm!

However, I found the heat rather uncomfortable, perhaps because I knew there was a way out. And as it happened it worked out well for me and my partner (s) in crime...my dearest cousin-meet Miss R- the suave and sophisticated (need I say gorgeous!) modern day Mumbai girl!


It was R who suggested the escape route- trip to ‘The Mall’. A fully air-conditioned shopping centre, complete with a movie theatre and several food joints. Two hours fizzles out into the distance in no time in those Malls!


Having made the excuse of power cuts…we regularly haunted the Café Coffee Day( and I take this opportunity to salute one of the finest coffees I have had!)and drowned our melancholy of being hot and bothered, sipping Cappuchino in the cool air conditioned Café. One of those days, after our regular routine of a coffee, we decided to try the desi Subway in the mall. I was quite excited to in fact be able to have Subway after a long while and we ordered our regular subs, ate, cleaned and ordered our drinks to have on our way home- two iced teas.


A thing about iced tea is that - it is not everyone’s cup of tea!;-) And we found that soon enough, a few minutes later. With our take away transparent cups full of ice tea, we walk out of the Mall. Dazed by the mid-afternoon heat that hit us suddenly, we look for an auto rickshaw to take us back home as we had no intention of ruining the experience of having our ice teas by walking home. After standing for about 10 mins, we manage to hail an auto finally and get in half-baked and fed up with the heat(already!)


In our pursuit of hailing an auto (which by the way is a skill in that part of the world!), we had not noticed a group of street children who had been loitering around us. It is not an unusual sight in Mumbai , as you may know already if you watched Slumdog Millionaire.  There was nothing suspicious about them and when some of them approached me to seek alms, I politely dismissed them with a smile, as I have been told not to encourage begging for alms as the children are employed by the lobby and they don’t get anything out of it.

Every time I do decline though, my hearts sinks and feel bad for the child. I get into the auto with my cousin- I climb in first and sit nearer the window followed by Miss R.. Just as the auto starts up, a boy (one from the group of street children) of perhaps about 5-6 years of age, suddenly flashes near the window. Before I could even see him, or realise his presence, he snatches the cup of ice tea from my hands and runs it across the road into a traffic island with his mates.
Artic freeze made a guest appearance on my face!;-)
Dumbfounded, I made some noise which my cousin interpreted as ‘What the!’
Ice tea was not my concern…the way he did a Mission Impossible across the busy road, with cars screeching down to a halt, made my heart come to my mouth..and all for what – Iced tea!


In the state of shock too we could not help notice the auto driver, who carried on turning the rickshaw around as if nothing happened…detached from this world…the Yogi baba driver!;-)


As he turned the rickshaw around the traffic island, I looked at the little boy who mugged my drink. He took a sip…a moment passed…and he spat it all out with a  vengeance!!!


He could not understand, what had gone wrong! He shouted from the island looking at us…’Ye kaisa Cola he Didi! Aap kyon peeteh ho ye!’-


Translation: ‘What kind of Cola is this sister…why do you drink this disgusting thing?!’


I was amused beyond my wits! Getting mugged by a 6 year old and sympathetic words from the little mugger himself! This happens only in India. Mumbai just got more interesting for me!:-)

Copyright : All images sourced from Getty Images. Copyright belongs to individual copyright holders.

In Memoriam - 11th Death Anniversary

Trying on your shoes...


I see a wide eyed little girl 
trying on some big shoes.
It is too big for her.
She is upset.
She is upset with her feet.

As she sat with her face buried
A hug warmed her and she looked up
Her father smiled down at her
She complained again about her little feet
He looked down and rolled his eyes and smiled!

He put his feet next to hers
They were big and they fit the shoes
He told her, that her feet were exactly like his
The shape, the colour and even how the toes were!
He told her that one day her feet will be bigger than his
And he would need to get her bigger shoes!

The girl was happy and hugged him back
And she put her feet closer to his and looked
Yes, they were similar, except the sizes
The girl thought one day I will be like him
One day I will fit his shoes.

The girl grew up...
She has big feet now ...
She measures up against the old shoes.
But they are still big for her.
But she is happy she does not fit it.
She knows that she will never fit it.

Walking through life,all over the world...
Happily in your big shoes:-)


We love you!
- Renu, Anish, Anju, Sunil and Krish.

Reflections

Yet another poem for Achan...

I see the dew drops..
so beautiful and precious
Cradled gently by the tender blade of grass
That sways in glee in a passing wind
The angel in the dew drop smiles
Beckoning the sun to rise a bit more
Like in trance he obeys with joy
And night leaves with a heaving sigh
The light then pierces the dew drop
Making it weep with heaviness
And finally like an unstruck note
It melts away into oblivion.
Like you left me that day
Echoing into a past

I wept, I mourned, I kept to myself
The words, the songs that i treasure so muchI kept to myself the silence of our moments-
the days you taught me about the life in clouds;
about the grace of the stream and the song of my soul
I kept to myself what little i understood of you
And When my words failed me i turned to my silence
and saw thyself mirrored in my conscience
And then I realised who I am
That I am a reflection of what you were

Homeless Deity

One night I decided to give up on this world and run away into the unknown. It was a strange night when the unknown seemed better than the known. I didnt think, I didnt even pause to look back. I ran into the thick darkness,with a luggage of hatred and anger on a path that leads nowhere. As I sped in the dark, I was fanning the fume inside me. I hated the world...and I kept walking repeating that hatred. And that was when, I saw her, sitting at the doorstep of some fortgotten ruins...

She was a frail little girl. It was just a blur from where I was standing, but she was an eloquent beauty with fierce eyes and an ethereal grace...I was stunned at her form and just watched her from the distance; she looked like a dream!Her face shone like a thousand moon in the faint glow of of the silver clouds.I wondered what a frail little girl like her was doing in this scary silence of this jungle.I walked closer to her and her form was becoming clearer and more enchanting.

She had her head down and she was sobbing. I looked closely, she was bleeding and bruised too. Her beautiful eyes moist with tears; glistened in the dark like little fireflies. Summoning all my courage I approached her. I asked her," Can I help ? ..."

She looked up at me. She had blue black eyes; just like the midnight sky! Such were her eyes that I could see myself reflected in them. A moment of gaze seemed like a lingering century...I was preparing to ask her again if she needed my help, when she stood up and walked off leaving me empty and baffled . I dont know why, I didnt walk off then- I was frustrated enough...I was humiliated enough...- But I didnt! I followed her. She walked and walked under the moonlight and I kept following her. There was something about her that was mysterious and magnetic. It seems strange for a person like me with so much hatred to follow a weeping strange little girl in the middle of the night in an unknown jungle.Perhaps it was my aimlessness, perhaps when in hatred I threw away my world, I was throwing myself into an existential vacuum.

Who knows!

And that was when it happened....she started singing...

My heart stopped!Her voice pierced the insides of my soul like a million swords. Her voice was faint and melodious but as she continued singing, it shred my soul into pieces and I felt a deep, unbearable pain. My insides bled! She walked into into a cave,still singing... I followed her into the cave. The next thing I know, is that I was in this deep dark cave alone talking to my own voice...and found myself battling between shock and pain. She was gone!I felt humiliated and angry, but at myself this time not at the world. I endured all this pain...to catch a glimpse of her and she decides to hide. I was angry with myself or caring...!I stormed out and walked back...

That was the last time I was going to care, I said to myself..

And just as I finished saying that in my head...I spotted her again...sitting on some other ruin...

I was'nt going to let her baffle me this time. She is not what she seems, I thought, and I must get to the bottom of this. I was convinced that this was far from reality and I was spiralling in a phantasmagoria...

I approached her again and I said " Look, I dont know what your story is. I am tired...now. Look at what you did to me!...Your voice pierced my insides and now I am bleeding...What have I done to deserve this?What are you...? Are you like a ghost or something?Are you punishing me for hating this world?...I dont understand...."

She looked up at me with her moist blue black eyes again and stared again into my eyes. There was a certain helplessness in that stare , this time.Then in a faint, soft voice that had the quality of first rain about it, she said " You say I am punishing you? " She titled her head to one side and looked at me rather consolingly and said " No, I am not, In fact you are punishing me..."

I was shocked!

She continued " I am not a ghost or an evil spirit. I dont have the power to punish. I only have power to love and receive love. I am the Goddess that once knew not what grief is, until the day

the seed of hatred was planted on earth.

Today the weed of hatred has invaded the world and there is no place for me. I walked out of the concrete buildings ,whereI was housed and people came three times a day to offer meaningless prayers! I was bathed in expensive milk and honey and annointed pointlessly, when I could hear the world chanting pure hate! I have become nothing but a wooden or marble figurine in a building or an image in a frame. I was feeling consumed !I couldnt breathe! I was dying a new death every moment seeing the world tear itself. It was just too much and I had enough!

So one day I walked out of all those temples , for good! I didnt want to exist, monumentally...I walked out into the darkness like you.And today I am homeless, I am alone..I am a goddess without power. I can only weep at the death of humanity. I can only sing a song of hope...

I wander aimlessly in the darkness mostly on my own. Occasionally I meet people like you ...who are runaways like me. There is only a single difference between me and you - I am running away from hatred, you are running towards it...."

She got up and walked off, singing into the wind, in a resounding voice that was like the first rain...She didnt turn back...

I stood there dumbfound and guilty; in an unknown jungle surrounded by thick darkness!I stood there watching a forgotten deity walk off...

I closed my eyes and I saw her blue black eyes again..I stood there with my face to the sky..

It started raining ...

The deity is crying...

The Road that they walked

THE  ROAD THAT THEY WALKED

It is pretty deserted when I walk through those streets in the morning on my way to work except for the delivery guys making deliveries to the cafes, the compulsive  Mc Donalders and the man who sits before Starbucks asking for spare change.

The darkness slowly unsettling itself, the rustle of the wind, and the clock tower at Carfax chiming every hour, exudes the elegance of a centuries old town whose every corner sighed and every building whispered a story. It is truly a city of dreaming spires. Especially at dawn, you look at those spires standing there in the darkness with closed eyes and folded palms, chanting an unknown prayer and dreaming of something unknown…And you feel Perhaps they are alive, perhaps they come alive in the darkness and talk to each other!

 Generations of wisdom that echoed these still stones. These magnificent stone structures and the staring gargoyles must have witnessed the making of millions of great lives, great world leaders and human beings who lead us through time and the various challenges of our history. For some its all about privilege, eliteness and grandeur to walk in through those gates. But then for a few other… its penance, determination and courage.  The ground smelt of sweat and tears and the wind that blew beyond those gates probably carried the smell of a thousand cultures and countries, exhaled in unison by the seekers of wisdom from around the globe!

Sometimes when I walk past there I just close my eyes, just to soak up in that moment experiencing something I cannot describe, I knew then, I was indeed feeling the pulse of this place, the vein of wisdom had run through here for aeons and will do so for aeons to come too! I just reflect back, quietly walking past the grand gates. I think of my school days and my university….days of endless combined study sessions punctuated with sighs and laughter…nights of intense sleeplessness spent burning the midnight oil… last minute hunt for lecture notes ….and what seemed like excruciating three hours of exams…and finally the gentle relief  upon getting the results! All seemed so far away in the distant past. I look at the clock tower again, the time is slowly ticking away in silence. I felt undeserving and proud at the same time walking that street. The road lay in darkness, the towers stood still and chanting…awaiting the sky to break into dawn and to welcome many new pilgrims of wisdom. The quest goes on! Many of those who will walk through here would be waited upon by the world...

I walked slowly…with measured gentle steps…This is the road that they walked! I must not disturb a speck of dust even as they carry the lightness of time in them. This is the road they must walk ... I should tread them with care lest I might wake the dreaming gargoyles...

Walking very quietly, I  listened….I could feel the throb of the place…serene and calm…like the depths of the bluest oceans!
The silence of that moment was better than a hundred prayers! I walked on…the dawn was about to break...the road awaits the pilgrims of wisdom...I must walk on….

Photograph source: Image Source Page: http://www.fineartphotoblog.com/architecture/dreaming-spires

©Andrew Gibson Photography.

Conversing with the Echoes

A caravan...

Spitting laughter into the tuneless desert.

Dunes changing shape with the wind...

Shifting dreams into a faraway distant land...

Time passes; steal my tomorrows...

I stay conversing with my shadows...

Listening to those echoes from the past!

In the Valley, chasing White Butterflies...(For Achan)

The emptiness, the void, the unspent stillness

Like the hollows of a dark deep gorge plunging down into the unknown

Still roars in silence.

All those dreams that have been suspended to eternal waiting

Walk around dragging their half formed bodies through the darkness

Lost with hollow eyes -blank and all hope undone.

The Unfaithful one- Fate, which lurks up behind you ever so slyly

Striking you down when you least expect it,

Still stands at the other end with a victorious smile on its face.

I look at It's eyes and the insatiable hunger in It's eyes

As if it is war, striking again and again, defeating me...

Turning my mindscape into a barren desert with just vast stretches of nothingness.

Just then, I had a dream....

A valley with horizons that stretched up to the sky,

Where the golden buttercups whispering gently and giggling in the breeze,

Danced to the unending chatter of the sparrows perched on the haystacks that they slumbered upon.

As the golden ball played hide and seek with the clouds weaving a myriad of patterns on land,

The big tree in the middle of the valley with its outstretched arms pointing to the sky

Yawned and stretched a little extending its relaxed, lazy shade a bit more...

Under the shade I see you sitting with your eyes that casually scanned the horizon

Your face was as how I always knew it - Peaceful, content and calm

Your smile as I always remembered- kind, graceful and infectious...

You looked the same as you were on that day when I said good bye to you!

Between then and now, it seemed no time had lapsed...

Between then and now, it seemed everything was as it were always!

For a moment you looked at me, smiled and walked towards me

Stroked my head and held my hand, whispering gently into my ears

That you were finally where you belonged, where we all do in the end...

You smiled and said that you are not alone now; you had a little friend to play with...

And that you two chased the white butterflies amongst the buttercups all day long...

And that there were the two of you now watching the valley until it is time for me to return!

Wiping my tears, helping me up from the dark abyss,

You looked into my eyes and asked me to march forward unafraid...

Looking fearlessly into the eyes of that which struck me down!

For you said, one who picks himself up from a fall and finishes the race

Is the one who counts as the real winner; there is nothing to be afraid of...

For there is someone watching over me as I go through whatever this life has written out for me.

Today...I have woken up...

My heart does not despair; it does not sink in the unwept tears

It does not bleed where the wings of my dreams were cut off now.

My mindscape is not deserted anymore; it is studded with the shining stars of yesterday and golden rainbows of tomorrow!

I will look into It's eyes and march forward with sure steps that echoes with a thousand prayers...

I know that there are two of you now watching over me, to pick me up when I fall again...

I know there is a sunny valley somewhere for me to return someday...where you wait with your new little companion...under the golden sun; chasing white butterflies!