Tuesday, July 25, 2017

Horn OK Please

Picture this, you are riding down the road on your two-wheeler, say an Activa, Scooty, or even moped (all these in my case). You're focus is all on the road ahead. Maybe you do not want to go into a pothole, or you want to keep a safe distance from the vehicle ahead (maybe it's a lady driver or an auto guy who thinks he's an F1 driver or one confused rider not sure where they want to go). Your focus is razor shape, you can even cut butter with it, when all of a sudden your focus is broken because of an incessant honking coming from behind you. You turn around to notice that it is from a driver who wants to get ahead of you and wants you to move out of his, or even her, way. 

How often have you been either at the receiving end or the perpetrator of a mindless horn blowing. We are indeed a horn happy generation who loves to blow our horn for no apparent reasons. Not caring where we are or what we are doing.

The horn honkers always seem to be in a perpetual hurry to get to their destination. Makes you wonder why the hell did they not leave early, or on time, in the first place. They feel that the road is theirs to ride on and you are trespassing by riding on their side of the road. They will continue to honk till you give up in frustration and give way. Even then they will give you the stink eye, or with daggers in their eyes, as if you have committed a mortal sin against them.

Sometimes I have even tried to rationalise the reason for this habit. Maybe they want to help riders like me, who have a dangerous habit of dozing off, to stay awake. Honking helps to bring us back from a slumber. Or maybe they just want to frighten the jay walkers, who have strayed too far to the middle of the roada all lost in their music or texting or just plain chatting on their phone.

Whatever the logic for their honking may be, it seems like they fallen in love with their sound of their horn, and they don't want to keep this love to themselves but want to share it with the world; after all sharing is caring, even if it is frightening. With sharing this sound with the world, the world become a honky tonk place with the musicality of the horns. We are indeed a horn happy people.

Sunday, July 23, 2017

Dunkirk: a story of survival

The battle of Dunkirk was not really a battle but more of a tale of survival, an evacuation mission. It exposes you to the fruitlessness and the ravages of war. 

The movie by Christopher Nolan tells the story from three point of view, occurring at three separate timelines, each culminating to the same event. So you have the point of view of a soldier on the beach, who are trying to make it to the boats without getting killed, taking place over a period of a week. The second is the tale of a civilian and his son who are heading out to rescue as many soldiers as possible, taking place over a day. The last being a fighter pilot trying to buy some time for the evacuation, which takes place over the period of an hour. 

Each of their point view is compelling and gripping, sucking you in, or maybe it was watching the movie in IMAX. The tension cuts like a knife. You feel their anguish, smell their fear. On the beach these soldiers are a sitting ducks for attacks from enemies you never truly see (except for the air attack). Every bullet, torpedo, every shelling, bombing, reverberate through you, making you feel like you are with them. Never truly safe. Leaving them fearful and broken, what they only want is to make their way home, to safety.

At times the scene may seem repeated that's because it is told from a different perspective, in the end trying up the story.

In the end the movie leaves you a bit shaken, without being bloody, highlighting the futility of war. With minimalistic dialogue, the movie is a case in point of how a story can be so captivating and moving. The movie is also bolstered by some good performances. All in all the movie is a must watch, especially if you can catch it IMAX. 

Saturday, July 22, 2017

Stone Building: the House that built ME

2/23 Stone Building,
B.J. Marg,
Byculla, Mumbai-11.

The address of Mr. Henry Patrick D'souza, a address that is engraved in mind, that is imprinted on my heart. A place where I spent 27 glorious years, that seen highs and lows, happiness and sorrows, births and death. It was the place where I slowed danced with one that wouldn't be mine and had my first true love kiss in a relationship that would later end.

Stone Building is the place I lived for 27 of my years growing years in a one room hall kitchen, which though small, houses over 6 people and a dog, and still managed to feel like home. A place where you had common toilets and where the doors were always open, except if it was noon or night, or you had something that you didn't want your neighbours to know.

Stone Building was a place where your neighbours were an extension of yourself. Always curious and always ready with the latest gossips. You may have fought for the most pettiest of things or mere suspicion and reasons, but during your time of need they were always the first to come to your aid. I so remember my neighbours mummy, who I will always remember as my nana, putting off the fire, with her bare hands, when my grandmother tried to commit suicide, or when my aunt was serious, they came together to recite the rosary for her, or help my granddad to collect funds for her treatment, and when my dad passed away, they helped us make arrangements to get my dada's mortal remains and then stayed with us till the very end. Your neighbours were the first ones you would call if someone needed to be rushed to the hospital. They kept vigil with you. If you were to be left alone they ensured you were taken care of and fed.

Stone Building was a place where people woke at 4 in the morning, daily, to fill water and wash clothes, and in earlier days, to use the hand pump. It was place where people waited patiently to use the toilet, hoping no creepy crawly showed up or the current occupant was not constipated. It was place where children scurried to school in the morning  and for tuition in the evening. Evenings meant playing after studies, but the lights came on, it was compulsory for everyone to return home.

Vacation time meant whole day playing in the sun and then running home to drink water and get shouting cause you could get a sun stroke. Afternoon meant time to keep watch on the chillies and other spices, which would go on to prepare bottle masala. It also meant time for comics and books. Throw in a Phantom, a Mandrake, Tarzan, Chamapak and Tinkles, not to forget Archies and Nancy Drews and Hardy Boys and the odd Mills and Boons. Evenings meant playing, badminton, cricket or volleyball in what we called the gutter. It also meant playing Lagori or seven tiles, hide and seek (with hiding inside the houses or third floor out of bound) and catch and cook and Sankali, only to annoy the tenants living below the terrace as mud would fall and their rooms would leak in the monsoon. So they would come up to scold and chase us away. But then we too were shameless, we ran away only to come back again a little while later, much to their charging.

Mornings would also mean going for jogging to the racecourse. Going to your friends place to try and wake them up, because they would show up once and the next day would sleep from the soreness. Then you would have to try and sneak out alone as you didn't want your family to see.

The first rain meant everyone on the terrace, enjoying the rain by playing football, or just sliding away to glory. It also meant time to get rid of those pesky prickly heat boils. Monsoon would have the children praying for showers of torrential rains so that the roads would flood and the schools would declare a holiday. Primary children eagerly enquiring from the secondary ones and if the schools did declare then it was time to make paper boats and rockets and throw it into the waters below. Stare at the people as they waded through the water and at vehicle as they passed by, creating ripples like waves. The heavy rains meant bringing down the tuft, canvas or plastics, whatever you had to keep the rains from entering your house.

Come unit test and exam time and you would have everyone studying really hard and discussing their papers and afterwards parents comparing and boasting about their children's results. Tenth standard meant wanting to know who got what percentage and then the distribution of pedas to everyone.

Stone Buildings was the place where birth, christening, birthdays, first holy communion and wedding were celebrated on a grand scale. A birth was always announced with crackers, one for a boy and two for a girl (or was it the other way round). And then you had everyone rushing to congratulate the family. Christening meant trying to see who the godparents are and  to admire the dress of the child and enquired about the name. 

Birthdays meant having your friends over and cake cutting (at that time we were saved from the concept of cake pack). You  always wanted your cake to have the best design. So far I had a train, a house a bunny rabbit, some what I could remember. Your 21st birthday cake  would always be a shape of a key or some element that looked like a key, cause now you were the man/ lady of the house. Birthday parties went late into the  night mostly ending with a sing song session on the guitar or the gumat. 

Communion meant everyone admiring your attire. As I my aunt never trusted me with keeping myself clean, she stitched a three piece grey suit. Morning was for church while evening meant a celebration.

Marriages were a whole different  all game. The bachelor party or roce or panni meant breaking eggs on the bridal entourage heads which in turn lead to breaking of egg on everyone's head. If the groom was from the building, then the boys would rush to decorate the car as soon it arrived. If the bride was from the building then you would eagerly await to hear the bursting of crackers to come out and see the bride and admire her gown. Evening meant people rushing into the bus, as soon as it arrived, in order to ensure they got the window seats, but the boys always sat behind, entertaining the people in the bus with song filled with double meaning and colourful words. Being one of the few boys who knew to dance and jive, I didn't have a problem asking a girl to accompany me for the wedding march or a jive. As at the time, music was always by live band, you ended up jiving a lot and usually you had the camera focused on you. But then this could have a drawback if you dropped your partner.

Stone Building was a place where you celebrated most of the festivals. During Holi you witnessed the burning of the Holika and then see people play Holi. The next day you played with water pistols only to get shouting for wasting water. 

Ganesh Chaturthi meant going around seeing different pandals, with your neighbours, admiring the idols. During visarjan day, you would have everyone crowded at your place as they wanted to see the Lalbaug chat Raja. 

Diwali meant lighting of sparklers and crabs and fountain and enjoying it with friends. But you always ensured that all the remains were gathered at one place least anyone should get burnt. Then you also enjoyed the various delicacy prepared for the festival, in my case besan ka ladoo.

Bakri Eid meant feeding goats and then see them get sacrificed and then swear off mutton for the next month or two, much to the charging of your mother cause your freeze is stocked with it and you refused to eat. Ramzan Eid meant you were eagerly waiting for the appearance of the faloodawala and not to forget the sheer kurma.

But the grandest of all was Christmas. Christmas meant time for carolling. The time when got the whiff of the frying of kalkals and navri and  sorpetel and vindaloo. Once you were done making it at your place, you went over to your neighbours to help them. 

WChristmas also meant the making of the of the almost 10 feet star with a crib in it. Staying up all night to make it and then putting the finishing touches on the 24th to ensure that it went up, in the centre of the building, before midnight. Midnight mass was followed to with the customary trip to Cafe Mondegar and Bade Miyaan and then staying up all night at Gateway of India only to return home early next morning. 

Christmas Day meant music and housie and request program (a chance for the secret crush dedication). Children rushing around to sell housie tickets and people wanting to call out numbers, people standing out of their house with their tickets. It was customary to go and wish your neighbours,also because you wanted to taste the sweets they made (marzipan being my favourite). 

What followed was a week of fun and entertainment. Talent competition meant singing competition (at least then) with songs like Give me hope Joanna, Hey Mona and I was born a hundred thousand years ago. Fancy dress brought out the colourful best in the kids as well as the youth. Telly games brought a lot of excitement and some heated moments. And then you had the night cricket and volleyball matches for both boys and girls with the whole building out cheering everyone on. 

But the best was Christmas party. You had children dressed I their best, eagerly awaiting the arrival of Santa. And when he arrived they wouldn't contain their excitement and rushed to join him as he went around the building greeting everyone, while Jim Revee's  Jingle Bells played on loop. All eagerly to catch the candy that he threw in the air. Then you had games for the different age groups and snacks and dancing. The evening ended with the unmasking of the Santa, much to the anticipation and glee of everyone and the announcement who guessed the Santa right.

The weeks festivity culminated with the prize distribution and the winners of the raffle draw, on New Years. But before that you had the Old man walk. You had the children going around asking for old clothes and sarees, who then proceed to go to Byculla market to get hay to make the old man and old lady. Even though we were warned not to play in the play in the grass, we still played in it and then get scolded when we complained of itching. Evening meant loading everyone into an open truck for the old man ride and head to various places like Worli sea face and mazgaon but ensuring you came back before midnight, where the effigies of the old man and old lady were set on fire at the stroke of midnight followed by crackers and people wishing each other for the New Year and dancing and music.

As days and year went by, we grew up and moved on. The one room now felt small. Slowly and steadily people moved out and with it the spirit that bound neighbours together, slowly began to seep out too. Though Stone Building may still stand it is not exactly what it used to be. But whatever and wherever you may be it always draws you back to it cause you take it with you wherever you may go, an imprint on your heart, a photograph that's hung on the walls of your mind, a sweet memories that live on with you forever.

... no matter where you go
O'er land or sea or shore
You will always hear us 
Singing this song
We are the Stone Building Boys

Thursday, July 20, 2017

I believe in Love

I believe in a love
That's pure, that's true
That doesn't judge 
Nor does it distinguishes
It just knows how to love
And be loved in return 

I believe in a love 
That makes no distinction
That knows not 
The colour of your skin
Or where you're from 
Or what you do
What's your religion
Caste or creed
What's your social status
It only believes in loving
And nothing else

I believe in love
Where it doesn't matter
What your past has been
It believes in the present 
And working to a beautiful future
It doesn't matter 
If you're rich or poor
Forward or backward
A village belle or bumpkin
Or a city slicker
It believes in loving all equally

I believe in a love that doesn't label
It doesn't matter 
If you're straight or gay
Transgender or bisexual 
Your gender doesn't matter
Your age doesn't matter
It knows no boundaries 
No nationalities 
No religious beliefs
No political leaning
What truly matters is love
And that's all you'll ever need

I believe in love
That's strong enough 
To move mountains
To bring even the most 
proudest and powerful of men
To their knees
That teaches to be humble and kind
That shines like a beacon of light
Lighting up even the darkest of days 
A love that's a guiding light 

I believe in a love 
That doesn't believe 
In putting people down
But a love that 
Lifts up the ones that are down
A love that's never cruel
That loves without any expectations 
A love that's unconditional 

I believe in a love
That's eternal
A love everlasting 
That's never spoiled
By the ravages of time
A love that continues to grow 
Long after we're gone
That continues to thrive and survive
Giving hope and warmth 
To those who we leave behind
A presence with them forever

I believe in a love that's pure and true
And I pray and hope
That you believe it too

Wednesday, July 19, 2017

WeInspire

One thing that I have always believed is that we all have that quite little power within us that can move and inspire and uplift those who need it the most. We all have it in us to inspire the lives of others.

You needn't be a superhero (this coming from a person who's name sounds like one) or perform any acts of great valour in order to inspire those who look up on us. We don't need to do anything great or grand or anything out of the ordinary in order to inspire. 

Inspiration can be found in the smallest of things, in actions that we dismiss as insignificant. What may be small or insignificant to us may prove inspirational to the one who needs it. Our words and deeds are what inspire others. We need not wax eloquent prose or perform great feats. Inspiration comes from the tiniest and simplest of deeds, when it comes from the heart.

Our lives may seem mundane to us, nothing new, nothing out of the ordinary. For us the lives we have lived and what we live is just a normal ordinary life, nothing novel or extraordinary about it. We haven't overcame adversity, beaten the odds and surmounted the impossible. Ours isn't the life what dreams are made of. No one would write ballads or poems about the, no one will put our lives in songs. We wouldn't even be a footnote when the book of history is written.

But then this is what we feel, what we think, because by nature we all are modest (at least most of the time) and don't sing praises about ourselves (when we try not to). But the way we see our lives may not be the same way others look upon it. 

What we may dismiss as mundane and routine may be the ray of hope that someone seek. Our simple words may just help someone find the courage to make it trough, the soothing balm that they need. Our stories and our lives may not be what legends are made up of us, but what they are is relatable, for people to associate themselves with it, thus bringing them hope and strength.

Our deeds, no matter how small or insignificant they feel to us, maybe the lifeline that someone seeks. Our positivity and our encouragement may just be what a person drowning in despair needs to save themselves, to find themselves. Our caring nature, our love, our perseverance, our dedication, is what inspires others to do the same and in turn inspire the lives of others.

Inspiration needs no grand gestures or superhuman ability. Not all of us go through odds that are never in our favour. But still, it is in the simplest of things, being who we are, being true to ourselves, doing thing we aspire to do, we find ways to inspire. 

We all inspire, one way or the other, knowingly or unknowingly, intentionally or intentionally. We find a way to inspire those in need. Being their lifeline, their ray of hope in the darkness of despair, their guiding light in the stormy sea. We well well and truly inspire.

Monday, July 17, 2017

Home on a Jet Ski

The monsoons in Mumbai can be something else, of you experience one. You should never believe the municipal when they say they made all the preparations and are ready for the rains, for usually they are never prepared. The first signs of a steady downpour and Mumbai turns into our very Venice, and thats not in a pleasant way.

The past night it had been raining, or should I say, pouring, steadily. So my mom took it upon herself and tried to dissuade me from going to the gym this morning, but being the gymholic that I am, I had to go. So I ended up at the gym being more wetter without even actually lifting a muscle.

To my surprise, after my gym, I was able to make it to the office without trying to stifle a yawn or dosing off on my bike, oops I meant Activa. So there's a good sign, no bad joojoo of it being the bitter seventeen. 

Anyway, it continued to pour through the day and the rain showed no signs of letting up. So when it was time to go, was really hoping for a way to make it home dry as a bone, but that was not to be. So got all suited up in my rain gear, took out my activa and made the sign of the cross ( of course I was petrified to ride in the rain).

Making my way up the slopes towards Kailash Complex I was greeted by sight that made me go what in the sweet Lord was this (not the exact words, but hey got to keep it clean and less colourful) and how will I make it through. Cause there was a stream of steady water running down the slope. Going through it made feel like I was riding a jet ski on a choppy sea. Began to imagine I was part of Baywatch (the David Hasselhoff one and definitely not the Piggy Chops), almost wanting to dive in to the water. As my activa waded through the water all I wanted to do is put my hands up in the air and go Wee! But hey I was the rider and not the pillion, and unless I wanted to fall into the water, then I should not do that.

Reaching Powai made secretly wish that my bike, sorry, I meant activa, was amphibious and there was a way from Powai to Marve, a secret route, which I could take and avoid the traffic. Alas, there's none, not even the Mithi river has a way (which in any case wouldn't take to avoid the stench). So I was left to travel down the JVLR. 

Since I never did like travelling down the JVLR (even though I have to take it every morning) and drive slower than a grandmother (not that I know of any grandmothers who ride a two-wheeler) I decided to be a bit adventurous and make it through Aarey (which incidentally is my usual evening route). So passing through L&T I weaved my through traffic, weave in, weave out ( very much like wax in and wax out from the Karate Kid movies).

Now travelling through Aarey would mean trying to spot woodland critters and enjoying the vegetation, but in the rains the only thing you need to spot is potholes and try to dodge it along with the oncoming traffic.

Traversing down Aarey, suddenly got an urge of nature beckoning me. Felt like I was going to burst, like I can't fight this feeling anymore, I've forgotten when I had taken a leak before. So had to stop and relieve myself before proceeding on.

Being on a two-wheeler gives you the unique opportunity of circumventing the lines of tail lights and go straight ahead to the front of the line. But then came to a stop cause a bus couldn't get through. Damn you two-wheelers always trying to make way without thinking, but hey even I was a part of it, but then I Ride an Activa which technically is not a bike.

So made it through streams of flowing, gushing waters, dodging potholes and in coming traffic, slowly made my way to the highway. Now even though the rain let up a bit, there was a still a humongous jam, thanks to the Metro, idea of which is to make traveling easier. So until it is finally operational, we've gonna have a miserable time in traffic, dodging tariffic, dodging jay walkers.

So finally, almost two hours after leaving office, made my way home. Phew, pleased to have survived the rains and the traffic. But inspite of all the rain gear, I ended up soaking wet. 

Throughout the ride back home, all I could think of is Yipee got to make my way back home to download the first episode of Games of Thrones (cue the theme in my head, or the Rains of Castemere, if was feeling a little sadistic) and what do I write in the post and make it a bit humorous. So I really hope you like it.

Saturday, July 15, 2017

What's Ok

People ask me
If I am doing OK
But honestly
I don't know what's OK
What's not OK
And in that way I am not too sure
If I am doing OK

I have had moments of hope
And then it has all come
Crashing down
I thought I saw the light
But then that's just the speeding truck
That's run over the hopes
That I had built

I have tried to stay strong 
And fight back the feelings
And sadness and the loneliness
To let things go on
Into a new phase
But something always draws me back
And I feel all these feelings
Which I have been fighting
The emotions that 
I have been suppressing 
Wash over me

See you with another 
Though there's nothing there
For the other
Tears me to a thousand pieces
And even though I promised myself
I will not break or go weak
Something triggers the pain in me

Though I know you want me
To move on
I can't move to other things
Cause I have known to love you
And even though I did the same
In the past
But right now I can't 
Even though I say I am strong

Right now I have withdrawn into shell
A loneliness I feel inside me
And somehow happiness
Makes me feel even more alone
A pathetic mess I have become

I have tried to distract myself
But somehow I have seem to have failed

So in end if you ask me 
If I am doing ok
And if I said I am ok
Don't believe me

Friday, July 14, 2017

Heart to Heart

Be calm my beating heart
Though you have known sorrow
More than you have known joy
This is not the end of the road for you
You have to still have to journey on

Though there have been moments
When you craved for eternal sleep
To just stop beating And give it all up
It isn't the end of the line for you
You still have to carry on

There have been moments of joy
Like bright sparks lighting up a dull life
That are interspersed between
Moments of despair
But still keeping you still
Have to keep moving on

You have known joys 
You have known sorrows
Heartbreaks and valentines
Are friends you have know so long

You may have been broken
And have been trampled on
Been used and abused 
By those who haven't
Known your worth

You've been tempted 
And at time fallen weak
And given into temptation 
Thinking its what you needed to do
And have got hurt in the process

You have shed tears 
For the ones you've lost
Breathe a sigh of relief
For the excess dead weight
You have lost

You've known love
In every way and form
You have learnt to love
Not bothering who and what and when
Sadly at times to be deceived

You built expectations and hope
Only to have them 
Come crashing down
Because you built them on sand
With their foundation not too deep
So at the first sign of a wave
They just got washed away 

But you have never gave up on hope
Never gave up your trust
On what you felt 
Is the goodness of humanity
Even though you have been hurt
Even though you have been burnt
You refuse to learn
Or see life any other way

No matter What 
you may have to go through
You resolved to stay strong and true
Like a captain you commandeered 
Rest of yourself
To stay strong and persevere on
Through whatever life has to throw
Continuing to know love
Continue to beat 
Till it's the end of your time

Thursday, July 13, 2017

To Love Someone

When you love someone
You love them completely 
Not just the good in them
But also the things 
That are not so good 
You see beyond their flaws 
To the goodness that lies in them
Like admiring the flowers
Overlooking the weeds 
That grow there

You love them for who they are
And what they want to be
And not what you want them to be
You love them for who they can be

When you love someone
You promise to be with them
Through the good times and the bad
To see them through 
Every challenge that they may face
Cheering them on
Giving them the support they need
Being strong for them
Their mistakes my irk you
But you can never stand to be 
Angry with them for too long

When you love someone
You will never let them walk alone
You'll never let their life go unwitnessed
Cause you will bear witness to their lives
You promise to be with them 
At every step of their journey
Though never explicitly saying it
Always implying it, meaning it 
You will always be there 
To catch them when they fall
To lift them up when they are down
To give them your hand
And help them up on their feet
To love them no matter what

When you love someone
The world just fades away
Nothing truly matters to you
All that matters is your love
Every moment apart
Seems like a lifetime
Every moment together 
Is never enough 
They're love is your cure
When you are down out
Their touch heals you

When you love someone 
Your heart beeps for them
Like a beacon 
Zoning on them in a crowd
Your every heartbeats 
Says their name
Loud and clear
They give your life purpose
A reason to wake I the morning 
A reason to look forward to the day

When you love someone
All you know is their love
All you crave is their love
Cause their love is all you need 
You reason for living
All you need is their love
And to love them in return
Cause to love them 
Is the greatest thing you'll ever do
Your love forever and all eternity