The missing link

27 Jun 2011 – A rave party in the Raigad district near Mumbai was busted by the police late on Sunday night where about 300 people were rounded up. 

5 July 2011 - 31 fined for 'indecent' dancing in Mumbai nightclub after police raid 

13 July 2011 - 3 serial blasts rocked Mumbai in the busy hours. 

Do these news when put together make any sense to you? If not them let me elaborate.

A semi-harmless rave party is raided by cops and some very harmless Dirty Dancers are fined, by cops of-course. But a very harmfull bomb blast is neither stopped nor the people behind it fined, caught or as much as traced.

I would like to know that while our police force is busy busting and fining the defenseless youth who's going to take charge of the constant bombings the city is going through? Why is everyone (read cops and politicians) trying to stop something that could happen over something that is actually happening.

The drinking age in Maharashtra is 25 because if you drink before that you might drive irresponsibly and die. What the hell? You'll anyway die, in a bomb blast or a terrorist attack. Why doesn't the police of this country forget about the culture and morals and do some real policing for once.

My 5 dos on a rainy day

People who know me well, know this small detail about me that I don't like getting drenched in rain (o yeah, I am used to that raised eyebrow expression by now). So, while most of you like getting soaked under those showers I prefer staying indoors or under umbrella. But that doesn't mean that I don't enjoy the weather, it still is my favorite. So here I share my 5 dos on a rainy day:

Read a book: Being the bookworm that I am, picking up a good book is the natural choice. Nothing feels better than the sound of raindrops falling on the window while I try to engross myself in the book. It doesn't matter whether it is a romantic novel or a fantasy as long as I enjoy it.

What am I reading right now? Its 'Sea of Poppies' by Amitav Ghosh.

Grab a DVD: Its fun to stack up DVDs of some Hollywood classics and romcoms for the rainy day. Nothing can beat lying sprawled on the bed, watching movies and snacking on hot kebabs. Some Old Monk for company works wonders.

Head to a coffee shop: My new found love for cappuccino does take me to the coffee shop quiet often and if its raining outside, even better. My current favorite cafe is Gloria Jeans in Oberoi mall. Although they have hiked the prices a bit and the quality is going down, I still like the place for its perfect location.

A drive on the sea-link: Since its inauguration the Bandra-Worli Sea link has become the hot spot for those who love long drives. So, when its not raining heavily, I too, fancy a drive with my husband. A walk on the Worli seaface afterwards just adds up to the experience.

Blogging: I believe that there is a certain connection between the rains and my brain (o, it rhymes..:)...). Ideas flow and i am tempted to pen them or in this case blog them down. All I need is a hot cup of tea and a bowl of soupy maggi by my side....slurrppp....

Mumbai Diaries - Part II (Of rains and blocked drains)

It's raining in Mumbai....and being an active blogger I can't resist posting something about this favorite weather of the city. Undoubtedly almost all the mumbaikars hate this weather as much as they love it. I too have witnessed the best and worst of rains here in the past six and a half years.

Monsoons were almost over when I first arrived in Mumbai so it took me a whole journey around the sun to experience it first hand. The first few showers after the scorching heat felt like heaven. We planned trips to Juhu Beach, took a walk at Worli seaface. But there was more to it than just greenery and clouds. There were potholes, traffic and sick rotting garbage on streets. Reaching my office in Lower Parel became a task worthy of a bravery award. The city was chaotic and I was baffled. And then suddenly as if the leakage in the clouds got bigger, it poured and poured till the roads were submerged under water. We had 26/7/2005. The city stopped and the only thing that was moving was water, that too vertically not horizontally.

After few unsuccessful attempts of reaching home me and my few colleagues planned to spend the night in the office. A treat of pizza and coke cheered us up a little. The next day we walked from Lower Parel till Khar. The memories of walking in the green, slimy water still creeps me out.

However, I do have some pleasant memories too like walking on the Marine Drive while munching on a hot corn or bunking office.

Mumbai monsoons, with all its pros and cons are special to each and everyone of us. And how much ever we hate them we still wait for them every year cos thats the time of love and romance; hope and happiness; dahi handi and Ganesh Chaturthi.

What the hell are we fighting for?

Of all kinds of writing I do, travelogues are something that I have always enjoyed. I love sharing those small but memorable incidents happened on the journey. I believe they always stay with you, more than the place itself.

One such incident happened while I was on the train from Mumbai to Gorakhpur (my home town). I was traveling with my husband, my sister and sister's husband. There was a couple in our compartment with their two kids. With their language and dialect they pretty much looked North Indians. More than the husband, the wife looked from north because of her sing-song tone. After a while we noticed her speaking in Marathi with her kids. The obvious guess was that she must've picked up the language in all these years she stayed in Mumbai.

After a lot of guessing and assumptions we finally decided to ask her whether she was a Maharashtriyan or a North Indian. Her reply came to us as a surprise. She was a Marathi and had picked up the accent from her husband who was a North Indian. Trust me, her accent, dialect whatever you call it was way better than any UPite or Bihari and the husband had a very Mumbaiya tone.

The whole incident made me think. Does a common man really care about people migrating from one city to other for work? Does aam junta appreciate the mas pooja conducted by Laloo Yadav or beatings of North Indians by MNS? I guess not. This is a country that unites for a Marathi cricketer who plays under a Bihari captain. So I think that the politicians should leave the language and let it be just a tool to communicate.

Yes...I was there..

Finally....after 29 years of my existence in this world and a wait of almost 15 years I witnessed it. Yes.... I was there, I was a part of that magical moment. Like every other Indian I jumped with joy when Dhoni hit that massive six, like every other Indian I had tears in my eyes when Yuvi, Harbhajan and Sachin couldn't control theirs'. And after that the ear to ear grin just couldn't stop.

The feeling of winning the World Cup was yet to sink in when we decided to go out for a drive. I had no idea what awaited on the roads of Mumbai. It was sheer madness, people came out on the roads, waving tricolors, cheering for team India on top of their voices. People in the cars, people on the cars, there were people all around. Crazy, mad people, crazy with joy. Thats when it struck me that nothing else could do this to our country. No films, no festivals, no religion.... when Cricket takes over the nation becomes one. Strangers hug and high five each other, every difference dissolved, every problem forgotten. So what if we have to go back to the same old boring life the next day, so what if it doesn't bring down the increased prices, so what if it doesn't save us from traveling in buses and trains in scorching heat....If people think its over hyped just because it brings joy to our otherwise joyless lives, so be it.

Thank you team India for giving us something to look forward to when everything else seems crumbling.

Festive Mumbai

Six years in Mumbai and I have developed a kind of love hate relationship with this city. There's a lot that I hate about it, the traffic, pollution, heat, noise, stress and a lot more. Despite all this I love being here during this time, the time when all the noise and traffic seems justified, the time when the roads turn into carnival streets, when there's light and joy everywhere, the time of festivities. Starting from the festival of dahi handi followed by Eid, rakshabandhan, Ganesh Chaturthi, Navratri, Diwali and Christmas. This festive season of the city makes me forget all worries. This is one time when you go out on the streets and feel happy.
My favorite period is the 10 day Ganpati festival. Roaming on the streets and watching the most lovable Lord Ganesha fills me with great happiness. I am sure this happens with a lot of people. You might be stuck in the traffic, fuming but one glimpse of Ganpati calms you down. And when its time to bid farewell you are all ready for the next season. Some people might even shed a tear or two.
I have been bringing Ganpati to my house since past 3 years. But this year I regret not being able to welcome him due to some reasons. So now, when its time to say goodbye i would like to say, "Ganpati, please come to my home next year." PURCHA VARSHI LAUKARYA!

अठन्नी सी ज़िन्दगी .....

आज बहुत दिनों के बाद कुछ लिखने के लिए कलम उठाई तो समझ में नहीं आया कि क्या लिखूं, तो खिड़की पर जाके बैठ गयी। मेरे घर कि खिड़की से ज़िन्दगी के दो पहलू दिखते हैं। एक तरफ ऊंची असमान छूती तीस-पैंतीस मंजिला इमारतें और दूसरी तरफ कचरे के ढेर में फँसी, दूर-दूर तक फैली झोंपड़पट्टी, और इन दोनों के बीच में फँसी मैं और मेरे जैसे लाखों-करोडो लोग, मध्यमवर्गीय लोग। जिन्हें आप कौमन मैन यानि कि आम आदमी भी कह सकते हैं। कौन है ये आम आदमी? ये क्या करता है? क्यूँ करता है? किसके लिए करता है? ये आम आदमी वो प्राणी है जो टैक्स भरता है, कानून का पालन करता है, सरकार पर भरोसा करता है और डरता है, पुलिस से, नेताओं से, गुंडों से। यूँ तो वो ये सब इसलिए करता है, ताकि अपनी ज़िन्दगी शांति से बिता सके पर जब बाढ़ आती है, बम फटते हैं, महंगाई बढती है तो मरता ये ही है। जो बड़े बड़े बंगलों और ऊंची-ऊंची इमारतों में बैठे हैं वो जेबें भरते हैं नेताओं की ताकि नेता खुश रख सकें उन झोपड़ी में रहने वालो को (वोटों के लिए)। आम आदमी देखता है सब कुछ, चीखता है, चिल्लाता है और फिर चुपचाप वापस चला जाता है अपनी ज़िन्दगी में, बसों और ट्रेनों में धक्के खाने, नौकरी करने, टैक्स भरने, रोज़ तिल-तिल मरने और एक दिन एक धमाके के साथ भीड़ में गायब हो जाने के लिए।
गुलज़ार साहब के शब्दों में कहें तो उसकी अठन्नी सी आधी ज़िन्दगी कभी पूरा रुपया नहीं बन पाती।