Such is Bombay

On friday morning I was going to office on that usual fast local train. Things were not great at office and in the morning at about 4am I was constantly being woken up by strange sounds, my neigbours were making across my wall. It was as usual all sweaty and crowded in the train. The type which makes you feel why-am-i-doing-all-this. Suddenly a guy (P.G.Wodehouse would have called him a dude) was listening to a song on his radio slash ipod slash music player slash some gadget. The dude started to sing aloud unaware of the crowd around. Such feelings you get when u listen to a good song and you just want to sing along. The dude was a good singer. Then three four guys started singing along and I did not realise I was also singing along. Song was a Kishore Kumar oldie prolly mere sapno ki rani. I dont remember typically which song as all the later songs were also Kishore's. The whole compartment tagged along and all those who could spread their hands also clapped. Some old people refrained but merely gave a toothless giggle. But the atmosphere had changed from sweaty and gloomy to still-sweaty but lively. I wished my destination station never arrived and we kept singing in the train loud and merry.

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There are so many good eating joints in Bombay but one place I really enjoy eating is the khao-gali (food lane) near Opera House (near my office). One place where you can go alone and eat because there is so much crowd that it takes over and never lets you feel lonely. I generally dont have lunch with office colleague because all of them are married and have dabbas(tiffins) delivered. So I walk alone and join the crowd at Khao gali. Its one of the most crowded lanes in Mumbai. The food is cooked on coal and the delivery is amazing fast. If you love people, you will love eating at Khao-gali for sure.
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On the day of Ayodhya Verdict (when the land was very diplomatically divided in to three), there was a huge alert for riots in Bombay. Fortunately such a thing did not happen. So when after office I was going home, Andheri streets were having a deserted look. I usually prefer to walk from the station to my home. But that day I preferred an auto. Suddenly the autowaala asked me about my views on the verdict (on having the land divided into three). I refrained from giving any views. Then the guy said "sahab galat hua, hindu ki zameen thi hindu ko dena tha" (sir, it was wrong, the land of hindus should have been given to hindus). I just said to him "wahaan mandir bane yaa masjid yaa kuch bhi bane, usse teri auto zyada tej to nahi chalne lagegi, woh ayodhya mein hai tu bombay mein hai, tujhe kya fark padega" (either a temple or a mosque is built there, it would not result in your auto running fast. It is in Ayodhya, you are in Bombay, how does that matter?" Suddenly that auto person stops the auto where 4-5 people were standing and started telling watever i said in a very hostile fashion. I got scared. I screamed "auto chalao"(start the auto). Suddenly one guy came near and slapped the auto person and told him "saab ko ghar lejaa jaldi se" (take him home at the earliest).
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Its been an year now at this grotesque and fascinating Bombay and what a ride it has been. It has come with a realization that two things namely love and job are not meant for me. They seem to take freedom out of the freebird I am. I am not a love hating person or a career hating too, its just that love is not my cup of tea and about career I am still to figure out what I wanna do. I guess its normal because more than half of the people I know are facing the same crisis.

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A rendezvous with a fruit-seller.

Whenever I look for inspiration, my first month struggle at Mumbai always comes to my help. I was new to Mumbai with limited idea of human skins clashing in Mumbai Local trains and the daily struggle for basic amenities.

When we (me and my roommate from IIM Kozhikode) arrived at Mumbai, we were duped by an agent and were made to stay in a claustrophobic room by a very busy street in Goregaon. The fan in the room was so slow that the May heat and sweat left us feeling miserable. Every time we tried to open the big window to get some fresh air, a cat used to crawl in and shit in our dirty floor. So to avoid the cat shit, we used to sleep with all doors and windows closed.

For me being unable to sleep, in such conditions, I used to tire myself further so that the sleep would come easily. Mentally I came back tired after dealing with a very difficult boss, but that was further a deterrent to my sleep. So I would try walking miles to get that physical fatigue so that when I laid on the bed, my physical stress would not let the combined mental stress of a difficult boss and the heat in the room come between me and my sleep.

So this story is of one of those walks, when I heard a beautiful song from the movie Umrao Jaan on the radio on a footpath. Some people were sleeping on the footpath and I recognised them. They sold fruits on the fruit shop below my room. You know footpaths in Mumbai are used for walking in the day, as street shops in the evening and sleeping beds in the night.

I sat down there and initiated a talk with one of the guys listening to the radio. His name was Gokul Naresh Yadav. He was from Faizabad in UP. People in his town called him Pagla for his crazy dreams and crazy talks. So here goes the conversation:

Me: Gokul teri shaadi ho gayi hai? (Gokul, are you married?)
Gokul: Haan, Aarifa se (Yes, with Aarifa)

He shows me the photograph. A beautiful girl in a saree and our Gokul Naresh Yadav.

Me: Aarifa?? Ye kaisa naam hai? (Aarifa, what sort of name is that?)
Gokul:Muslim hai. Shaadi kiye hain. Love marriage. (She is a Muslim. I have married. Love Marriage)

Me: Ye kaise? Woh bhi Faizabad mein? (How come? And that too in Faizabad?)
Gokul: Kya bataayein? Hum football khel rahe the. Teen ladkiyaan humein burqa pehne dekhne aati thi. Jo sabse lambi thi use maine bola burqa hataane..usne hataaya..chaand thi woh..humne apne sapne ke baare mein bataaya..use acchaa lagaa.(What shud I say? I was playing football and 3 girls clad in burqa used to visit us.. The tallest one, I asked her to lift her burqa, she removed, she was like moon..later, I told her about my dreams..she liked them)

Me: Cricket nahi khelte ho? (Dont you play cricket?)
Gokul: Arre nahi, hum bahut accha bowling karte the..baad mein pata chal throw phekte the..bahut koshish kiye phir se..(No,I used to bowl very well..but later I realised that I used to chuck the ball..Later I tried hard)

Me: Shaadi mein koi baadhaa? (Any objection in marriage)
Gokul: Shuru mein sab hasne lage..soche pagla hai..kuch bhi bolta hai..par humne shaadi kar liya mandir mein..ladki ko ghar se nikaal diya..meri maa bahut royi ..par baad mein maan gayi..boli tu laaya hai tu hi khilaa..isiliye bambai aaye hain (Initially they all laughed thinking I was mad. They said I speak crap but I married her in the temple. She was thrown away from her home. My mom cried a lot but later she accepted her. She said, u brought her, u feed her. Hence I came to Bombay)

Me: Bahut maante ho Aarifa ko? (You like Aarifa a lot?)
Gokul: Ek wahi hai jo humein paagal nahi samajhti..Ek naseehat dete hain-usi se shaadi karna jo aapko aapke sapne ke liye pyaar kare, naaki aapke vartamaan ke liye..(She is the only one who doesnot think i am mad..One advice I would give you-Always marry a girl who loves u for your dreams.. not for what u are today...)

Me: Chhutti par kya karte ho? (What do u do on holidays?)
Gokul: Chhutti milti hai kabhi kabhi, phal bech kar. hum goregaon se churchgate kaa local pkadte hain aur marine drive par jaa kar baith jaate hain. bahut shaanti milti hai..samundar ajeeb cheez hai..gareeb ameer mein koi fark nahi kadti. (I get holidays rarely. I catch a local to churchgate and go and sit on marine drive. I get peace there. This sea is very strange. It does not differentiate between rich and poor)

(True.now it reminds me of Tsunami in Japan. It did not differentiate. The wrath or the peace,the sea treats us the same)

Me: Bahut bolte ho yaar? (U speak a lot)
Gokul: Saab bechne waale log hain...bolenge nahi to khareedega kaun? (Sir, we are salesmen. If we don't speak, then who would buy from us?)

The next day, I gave Gokul Naresh Yadav my phone and asked him to use it and talk to his wife in lieu of the beautiful story he had told me the previous night.

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PS: I would like to dedicate this post to the 15 day old baby Aarya. The most beautiful line in this post has been quoted by her mother.

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Those great examination days..

Well if u r an engineer, u will value your examination days the most. The craziest things are done during these days. I used to love them for they were the most happening days of the academic life. Songs used to sound more melodious, food tastier, gossips more engrossing and playing games a luxury.

We were a bunch of 4-5 guys of electronics engineering who used to study together but only during the last night and just go and puke the over-night-learnt-knowledge on the answer sheet. Probably all engineers in India are made that way.

There was this Raghav Mathur who used to mug up everything he thought was important and even if the questions asked were different, he used to put everything he had mugged-up on paper. He used to take on extra sheets and extra sheets, and wrote some electronics crap on it. I am sure he used to pass just by boring the professor of the crap he wrote, but he ensured that all that was written was electronics and pertaining to the subject. Although he had failed in subjects like Digital Signal Processing where the professor used to ask one word answers and Raghav gave a crap of minimum 250 words.

Then there was this Siddharth Malviya, who used to get bored of studying the last night and quit mid way assuming that the next day some one will help him pass. We used to try and pass him answers but if not done, he used to fail and he was ready for it.He was also caught once exchanging calculators(answers written on it) with Nirbhay, who had never before cheated in his life. Siddharth had so many suppli-s to his credit. But if u think our Siddharth was any less smart, let me tell u he has just got a great percentile in CAT and has got calls from all the IIMs (rest process is awaited).

I would love to mention Shubhendu, whose xerox copies we used to mug up and later even approached him at last moments to tell us the last moment important questions.
I am sure even if we didnt learn electronics we learnt the art of risk taking.

We used to play cards during these times and promising each time that this is the last half hour of our playing cards. In the evenings we played volleyball, we played Counter Strike too and Fifa just half an hour before exams was considered to be a good omen.

I am sure we were not only the selected few, everyone does the same. Living on the edge thing. Each student has his/her own cool story about his/her exams. I just mentioned mine.

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When doctor met the patient..

"I am a walking contradiction. I am often complimented on my honesty, yet more often than not I am lying. I talk a lot, yet nothing is ever revealed. I mock people whose goals and ambitions aren’t clear while changing the topic when mine are questioned. I spend most of my time fantasizing about the life I missed out on and the opportunities I’ve lost, yet still refuse to accept who I am and the life that I lead. Truth be told, I have no idea who I am. If I were to meet myself in street one day, I wouldn’t even know. After introducing myself I’d walk away thinking, ‘that was one strange individual who is nothing like anyone I’ve ever met before.’ Worst part is, I’d finally be telling the truth."
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And then he met his school time girlfriend now a doctor, someone's fiancee and far more beautiful than she was in the year 2002. They both met at a shopping mall and realized that it was not the right place to go in nostalgia. So they headed towards the sea, for the sea breeze would facilitate the contemplation they were about to endeavour in.

Then they both talked about the present. Of how his physique had grown as in his school days, he was all bones. Of how that nose ring she adorned looked great on her.

They talked about future. Of how she is going to London to her fiance after she gets married. Of how he would love to open his own hedge fund one day and be the master of his own soul and the captain of his own fate, above all not being bossed by anyone.

But above all they talked about the past. How they had met in a competition at a school where neither of the two studied. She was all nerves about her dance performance and he had calmed her down. She in return had gifted him a book which contained the short stories from Ruskin Bond. He still remembered the stamp of the bookstore which said English Book Depot, Ashley Hall. They had gone to one of the most beautiful places on earth together-Dhanaulti.They preferred not roam about the Mall Road because of fear of him being spotted by any of his teachers. They would instead head to the Landour Side.

Everytime he used to bunk his school, he would hitch-hike down the Rajpur Road and they would meet near the Parade Ground.They used to bet on even a trivial matter and they knew even anyone loses, it would lead to them meeting each other and the stake would be sponsoring Falooda at Kumar Sweet Shop near the Ghanta-ghar.

She used to send cards at every occasion, while the miser he was, he would just write mushy letters to her. They both knew that childhood love was no love, it was just some immatured, calf love where they would just boast about having grown up.

People want pretty much the same things: They want to be happy. Most young people seemto think that those things lay somewhere in the future, while older people believe they lay in the past.

It was evening and the sun was about to set down the sea. She attended a call from her about to be mother-in-law and lied to her that she was meeting a patient.LOL- A Patient! Then she rushed to her car after the hug he very well deserved. She started her car and turned on the radio where he heard the receding sound of:

"Joh naina karoon bandh bandh beh jaaye boond boond! Tadpaaye kyun, sunaye geet malhar de...!"

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**This post is dedicated to all those people in whose hearts live the mountains of Mussoorie and the valley of Dehradun....Here's to my adolescence.

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A hell of a random night.

He had got high on an illegal substance and later went to Colaba to have a brownie at Theobroma. There,a certain conversation between two girls struck in his ears.
Girl 1: "You know Divya there are 1000 guys for every 933 girls in India. Bullshit. No?"
Girl 2: "Ha ha where did u get this from? I am sure ki tere liye koi nahi hai..Vodka kam pad gayi kya? "

The dope reduced his shyness and he went onto striking a conversation with the two
"Hi, perhaps I am one of those 67 guys, one of u were talking about for whom there is no girl"

He joined the two and then they ended up listening to each other's life stories.

All three spoke and spoke and he realised how similar each and every person of his generation was. They all talked about the same facebook, twitter, Coke Studio, movies, books, city life and etcetra.

He realised that he was the one who was talking most on the table. They all listened to him. He was a great story teller. They all loved the concept that he had lived on his own since he was eight. He had been independent, he took all his decisions.

He loved the idea that the two were jovial, outgoing, random girls ,similarly goofed-up and messed-up in their own ways.

They left Theobroma and entered Tantra T-shirt shop and the 2 girls chose a T-shirt each for him. Divya chose him a Bob Dylan T-shirt while Vidushi gave him T-shirt with a fancy Indian tr-color in it. He paid happily for the two T-shirt.

Then they headed for Marine Drive, where they sat for hours and talked about how stupid all three were. The common thing between them was they believed that self depreciationg jokes were the best kind of jokes. They laughed on each other's stories. They competed who was the most stupid of the three. They talked about their own embarrassments. Inebriation helped them talk freely. They talked about how they had ended up loving and losing. How the universe is so indifferent. One point they all agreed was that like pain, stupidity can also not be compared.Out of the blue one of the girls cracked this:
"Zindagi ek Chahat ka silsila hai,
Koi mil Jata hai koi bichhad jaata hai,
Jise Maangte hai hum duao mein,
Wo kisi aur ko bina maange mil jata hai."
The rest two clapped and she giggled.

Later the same girl also played on her mobile phone a song from Coke Studio " Chal dil mere". The three sang in unison with the mobile speaker.


They talked and talked and realised it was dawn. And then they watched participants and onlookeers for Mumbai Marathon gathering up. All three wondered what the people were running for. Fitness, peace,love,solidarity, showbiz?

Finally he left for Churchgate station and the other two for VT station but all agreeing to the point that it had been a hell of a random night.

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Please excuse the sorry state of story-telling of this post because it has been hampered by the sleepless night the blogger had.

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The four fables.

I
He had quit smoking, long back. Love had made him do so, atleast he thought that way. Love makes people do ridiculous, crazy, beautiful things. There was a time he could do anything for her. She just asked him once to quit smoking and he did it. That was not the toughest thing he had done for her because letting-her-go was the toughest.

II
They were a bunch of thirteen people. Out of the world. Engineers. They were not like usual engineers like those who spend half of the time on facebook or orkut. They preferred playing football on the rooftop of their hostel in the rain or volleyball in the mud. They were so much of a great company to each other that they did not miss a thing. Time passed and then they had to leave. Now they face the hardships through the memories, the photographs and the songs they sang together.

III
He loves the open sky. The free air, how much polluted it may be. He often sneaks out of his office and goes to the beach nearby and watches the excitement on the face of the tourists catching the memory in a camera. He was not a tourist to Bombay but he loved observing the zeal on the first timers.
He even stole the keys to the rooftop where the Society he lives in has made it forbidden to go. He sneaks in the rooftop and watches the stars. Star gazing had always been his favourite hobby.

IV
So the new year had come and he was still wallowing in the last one. Only the calendar had changed? But with each day he was more in love with the city he lived in. In his ipod played the song by U2 "You love this town...Even if that doesn't ring true...You've been all over...And it's been all over you"- Beautiful Day.
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PS: This post is dedicated to Anurag Lal Sinha, one of the 13 engineers mentioned in the post.

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The valedictory post

Hi guys,

By the word guys I mean all of you (guys as well as girls). The world seems to be coming to an end and this might be my valedictory post. I really want the world to last longer so that all of you could fulfill all your dreams in your respective bucket lists.

I would just try to limit it here to few sentences.
If you are student, you r living your best life right now and I hope you are not wasting your time reading this post of mine. These are your last days of freedom before being thrown into the wheel of life to become another spoke, to be taken away to the distant land of sweat and the grind. Those days of hang-overs, watching sunrise before calling it a “night”, Sunset at 4 to Sunset at 11..I miss it and you would too.

If you work, I know each and every job sucks. But try to make the best of it. Dont carry the shitty work out to home. Enjoy. If in Mumbai, go and sit in the Marine Drive,its really beautiful. My three favourite places are Marine Drive (next to my office), Prithvi Theater and Andheri Sports Complex (both next to my house), u see none of them are bars or pubs.

Avoid falling in love, it comes with too many side effects. Coelho says it takes you either to heaven or to hell and he ain't any liar. Yeah experience of being in love is ok. But dont hang on. I mean dont 'fall'.

Lastly for all you gypsies, keep traveling. Be the incessant traveler. The best feeling is to be alone but not lonely. I donno but I prefer the trains. I love the glimpses of lit up bogeys, people playing cards, children wandering about. So many lives crossing my backyard every day and every night. Rich, poor, famous, oblivious of my existence, I of theirs. A mutual oblivion that can never be resolved.

Thats it. I will make this as my last post of 2010. A general one although. I am happy that this year is coming to an end. It was an year where my life changed to the maximum. I learnt most about life, the intricacies of it. All i know is growing up is no fun,man.

With love and wishing you a happy new year!
-vC

PS: Please do comment after reading this. Thats how I know that U read it and being read is obviously a nice feeling!

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Folk songs vs Dylan

Well, seriously I am dreading going home. Just because of this festival named "Chhath" which is the most pompous festival in the state of Bihar.

Last time I was there, the entire family was there to greet me "Arre Vikas, itna bada ho gaya?".. As if I had an option not to grow.

And then you go to the ghaats ( lake side) where all the functions take place. There, the ladies sing some folk songs, after hearing which I believe even Bob Dylan would jump into the lake.

If u try to put an iPod in your ears, the ladies would look at you, as if u committed an act of dishonor.

Further. the girls around would try to dress at the best, putting powder(may be dermi cool) on their face, trying to look fair-skinned and ending up looking obnoxious. The worst would be relatives would try to fix you up with them.

The festival is a 3 day affair. So last tym on the second day, I acted as if I was unwell and avoided all the proceeding at the ghaat. So all the relatives are like "shahar ke bacche weak hote hain"

The only good part is that the local people would smoke high quality weed and u just pay them a little to keep all this a secret and then even all the cacophony sounds like Dylan...


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PS: This is fiction. On a contrary, I am a well-behaved Mama's boy.


"And then he changed the month card on his workstation calendar and wondered in amazement how the past 6 months zoomed by… His tenure at Bombay has been really good and yet it brought him the worst. He had lost some investments, mostly emotional and has spent most of this time, trying to keep the sanity of it all, together…"

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Recommendations!!

I recommend:
1. Each person should once live in the city of Mumbai. This is one mini-world in its own. You get to see all and sundry here. It can fascinate you and at the same time choke you. One city which has a soul!

2. Each person should one have suffered heartbreak. Thats wat will make you complete.

"Loves are like that. Your heart starts to feel like an overcrowded lifeboat. You throw your pride out to keep it afloat, and your self-respect and independence. After a while, you started throwing people out - your friends and everyone you used to know. And it's still not enough. The lifeboat is still sinking, and you know it's going to take you down with it."

3.Travel to an unknown direction and travel in solitude completely. Take a train, a ticket to anywhere, a set of books, some snacks, a big rucksack of necessities and a clear sky above. Just travel.

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