Mine. Part II.

And so, the girl keeps writing. College was an exciting time, so much to do, so much to see, so many people to meet. Oh, if none of this makes sense, do read Mine. first. Don't hold me to a strict timeline though!

When the girl came back to the big city for college, the first classmate she met was pouring over the entrance test results, wondering if he would get what he wanted. Couple of months later, he thought the girl looked super pretty in a saree. The shortest relationship ensued. Through the ups and downs, they remain friends and tell each other the most random stuff. Weird, but feels quite okay. Looking back, I am unsure if the guy ever got exactly what he wanted/envisioned. Life has a way of throwing him very interesting punches, leaving us with a repertoire of amazing stories! Manic Monday. Terrible Tuesday. Whacky Wednesday. Terrific(?) Thursday. Fantastic Friday.

It was also in college that the girl met the sweetest person she knows. Unflappable. Looks like a wrestler, is a marshmallow. Such patience this man has, to put up with what is now 6 years of ribbing by a set of friends who have all been generously sprinkled by the devil's dust. He is one of those people who will always be blessed, for he will have a child-like innocence with him forever.

While the girl was powering through college, she felt a need to explore an alternate world-view, partially because a close friend was immersed in it and the girl was bored and curious (in equal parts). So she went and did a short course with this international organization that claimed to change her and the way she saw the world. Yoga, social work and the lectures about living a good life were fine and dandy, but then horror of horrors! They wanted the girl to shirk her love for meat and alcohol. In desperation, she looked around for support. Found a pair of twinkling eyes. They shared a smirk, a "someone save us from these holier-than-thou people" look. Scooted closer and plotted to go out for a drink immediately after. So opened a world of hanging around in the heart of Mumbai and learning to understand Marathi. Going to small hole-in-the-wall places to eat fish(y) delicacies. Khooni paanje. Kala khatta golas. Conversations about Physics and Biology. An unforgettable holiday. Fights. Blame game. Constant pestering. Volatile emails. More pestering. A full circle, back to a tenuously held together friendship.

Once you start thinking about the people that have touched your life deeply, you realize that there are many more to go. And so, the girl will follow a friend's advice: "Today was a fantastic day, tomorrow will be better, if you like to write, don’t hesitate, if you like to draw don’t wait, whatever it is that makes you happy pursue it today for tomorrow today shall be a memory, a fading memory lest you capture it in your own special way…."

Mine.

There is always a little sweet spot in our heart for some people. The special ones from the myriad collage that makes up our lives. Old friends, friends you met only once, people who were such an integral part of your lives that you forgot all about their value, the shared mischievousness, the family bonds. Also, relationships that were not meant to be or will never be. As the years go by, sometimes even after things go bad, don't work out or maybe don't even really begin, they leave behind little pieces of memories that make you smile. Bitter-sweet as the smile may be, this is my journey through the smiles and (in this case), the men who made them!

A long, long time ago there was this girl who had the devil as her personal adviser. She was always the little perfect child in the presence of elders, but when in the company of her peers, the devil was let loose. Great many children were beaten up in the battles for food, game-time supremacy, kites, toys and attention. And then, a prince walked into the warzone, ready to face her. They clashed and fought, but realized that the whole was greater than the sum of its parts. So together, they ran headlong into mischief, co-conspirators against the boring world of the parents. Together they became teenagers, and discovered the first bloom of romance. Alas, the evil world of studies and Board exams interfered. The first bloom remained exactly that, and life went on.

Her travels took this girl to a new city where she was thrown in the midst of these strange big city kids. Too much free time and a love for bike rides got her together with this another guy. So different from her prince, this one was a crazy, unrepentant wild-child. So much potential for so much fun, and the devil told the girl, go live. She did. Even today, it brings an evil, evil smile to her face!

Oh, and then there was the competitor. The guy who wanted to challenge the girl in everything. They got into fistfights at fifteen, and stories abounded in the small town they call home. The girl took the ultimate revenge. She went ahead and charmed his parents. Practice helps!

First day in college. Girl sees a guy with an odd vibe, just lurking around, being unsocial. Somehow, over innumerable cups of chai, classic milds, pegs of varying alcohols and other adventures, they went from being awkward friends to this another plane of friendship. The one where the fact that you didn't really speak for a year and a half does not really matter. You can catch up over 3 days and 3 bottles. Bliss. Thank you, God.

Still in college, the girl meets another guy. This one was highly amused by the girl's attitude - her tendency to be the laziest in a pack of lazy, willingness to fight and propensity for using very colorful language. The exact opposite of what he thought a perfect girlfriend/wife should be. Then he discovered that she was willing to get yummy sweets from her hometown, just for him. Instant magic recipe for an everlasting friendship. Bike rides. Floods. Rainy days. Food. Chai. Alcohol. More bike rides. Gossip. Pretend study sessions. Xerox frenzies. Screaming matches (the girl won). Concern. Affection. A lot of laughter.

A chance online meeting. An instant connection and a decision was made. The girl met this complete stranger, one late evening, in the middle of her exams. Passed those, couldn't pass up on him. Shared a common love for coffee, food, cinema, and exploring their city. Could not tolerate each other's music choices. The girl made him smile, and his smile made her feel like a princess. But if you think they were a boring sweet couple, think again. There was this sparky current between the two, and well, life was very interesting. Though time and tide found its way in between them, an email is all it takes to remember the time the girl scared the daylights out of him. All it took was a bumpy ride on the roads of Goa, with the girl driving the two-wheeler. 

The girl has more stories and more people to write about. She will too, soon.

Time flies!

I had a set of scribbles and drafts from the past months, which I decided to condense into the CliffsNotes version(s) of multiple posts, with my retrospective thoughts!


November:

Diwali time! Another Diwali in the land where you are legally prohibited from bursting fire-crackers except when you can. The child inside me wanted to rebel so bad it was almost painful. The adult part just smiled a serene(?) smile and spoke about the need to reduce pollution. I am looking forward to attending the Euphoria concert and my first Los Angeles Lakers game. Go Kobe!


PS: The Euphoria concert was an unique experience. A small crowd of about 250-300 people, mostly Indians, a high energy band, listening to old favorite songs, standing on my seat and singing out aloud, overall pretty darn good! The game was predictive - Lakers had to win! For those in the know, and wanting to challenge my wisdom, they were playing GSW. Its a moot point - Go Lakers, all the way!


December:

Mumbai in 5 days. Home in a few days. It is a feeling that has not completely sunken in yet. I am looking forward to the sights and sounds of my absolutely favorite city. Getting to see my family and friends after a long while is exciting, and somewhat scary. What changed, what did not? I am definitely not looking forward to the customary "she has changed after going to America...." dialogues and the like. Also there is a marathon struggle to get done with (too much) school work before the vacation can begin; and that's the reason why I am writing a blog instead of a report.


There is something beautifully alluring about those then-common, now-special things which beckon to me so temptingly. They say "come home to us" - the simple pleasures of having chai at a tapri, with a garam cheese toast butter with extra chutney, company of old friends over old monk+coke and papad in the as creepily welcoming as ever Nimantran. Train rides with the breeze of the Vashi creek in my face, going to Colaba and having the freedom to bargain my way out, a cold Kingfisher, eating pizza from Joey's, coffee at my Juhu Barista, a walk along the beach, meeting school friends - those special people who keep me centered, meeting the newest members of my extended family; a very fast, very long ride on my Dio, and more. India, brace yourself - here I come!


PS: Those 21 days at home made me realize - time flies. It was a rude slap in the face, but brought along the comfort of knowing, for certain, that some people, some relationships and some places do not change. I don't want to imply that they are in status quo, but just that their essence does not change. I am quite sure that I have seen this before, but I guess this is a lifelong learning? Or maybe I like my illusions too much? Whatever, don't know.


January: 

Dee has faced a grand realization: Home is where there are no "well-wishers." Absolutely no one who is concerned about my life, career, marriage and child-bearing potential. Home is where I are comfortable with myself, and not under a highly judgmental microscope to be dissected by society at large.


I missed my Claremont "family" and was surprisingly happy/excited to be back here. Maybe time flew by too much, too fast and I lost my place in Mumbai/Ajmer in the larger scheme of things. I will take help from the wise - "All changes, even the most longed for, have their melancholy; for what we leave behind us is a part of ourselves; we must die to one life before we can enter another." - Anatole France

Mera Bombay, Aamchi Mumbai!

Which is your favorite city? Mumbai!

Where are you from? Bombay, and Ajmer!

Do you want to go back to India? Yes, to Mumbai!

What do you call the city? Mumbai or Bombay? 

I call it my city, my home.

My city has such a firm foothold in my heart that these answers are very easy! But the one question I have not yet been able to address eloquently is why. Why do I love Mumbai? One would think that reasons would come pouring out, but surprisingly, they don't. 

The real reason is so intrinsically tied to the Spirit of Mumbai, that elusive lady who wraps you in the cocoon of her charm even before you realize it. She is strong, sensuous, scandalous, surprisingly sweet, oh and she is fast! Actually, I don't think she travels at anything less than breakneck speed, and somewhere along the way she invented the "time is money" motto that rules life in her city. She gets hurt often - riots, bomb blasts, floods, shootings - but her recovery rate, like everything here, is accelerated! 

Emotions run deep in Mumbai - may they be joy, victory, festivity, or anger. Mumbai does not celebrate any festival half-heartedly, we are crazy about our Govinda, we pray and then go eat at Mohammed Ali Road during Ramadan, we love our favorite Ganpati bappa, we burn Raavan's effigy on Dussehra, we dazzle on Diwali, we adore the midnight mass on Christmas, we party to bring in the New Year, and we are awash in color on Holi! If that is not enough celebration, we also also do our Sankranti, Easter, Chaat Pooja, Hanukkah, Navroze, Rakhi, the Prithvi Theatre festival, the Kala Ghoda festival... and on it goes!

And before you tell me, yes there is Dharavi, Asia's biggest slum. Yes, the trains are crowded. Very crowded. The traffic is terrible. I also know about the potholes. Yes, sometimes not speaking Marathi can be a problem. Yes, the heat and the monsoon floods. The hawkers and the beggars. Blah blah blah.

Did I ever say it is the perfect city?

There are numerous reasons why I love Bombay, now that I think of it. The problem is, if I start listing them out (I tried), it reads like my personal Lonely Planet guide to Mumbai. That simply does not capture the friendliness of the people, nor does it capture the calm feeling of sitting by the sea with the breeze in your face, and it absolutely does not capture the whirlwind of colors and lights that decorate the city! There is this energy that sustains the city, gives it that extra zing, and pulses in every nook of this metropolis. The word on the streets is survive, and the word in the boardrooms is succeed; both often interchangeable.

I miss the trains, with hands that extend to pull you in, the aunty who grabs you tightly because she is worried that you may fall off, the "I am living an adventure" feeling when only about a fourth of you is actually in the train! I miss the freedom of being able to walk out at 2 in the night and take a rickshaw ride along the sea on Carter Road, saying a quick prayer at Mount Mary, and returning home again, perfectly safe. The bargaining sessions at Colaba Causeway and Linking Road. The revitalized feeling I get after spending an hour in my favorite Agyari. I miss eating coconut ice-cream while sitting next to a celebrity, and other similar small pleasures!

Oh, and I deeply, viciously, miss bombil fry and Joey's Pizza. 

This and more, is what I love about Mumbai!

ऐ दिल, है मुश्किल जीना यहाँ; ज़ारा हटके, ज़ारा बचके, ये है बम्बई मेरी जान!

26/11/2008

26/11/2008

One of the few nights in my life I want to forget. Unfortunately, I can visualize it far too well. And the feelings of angst and anguish, remain.

My Taj burned (yes, I am a proud bawi first!), my city's blood spilled. Landmarks defaced, innocents murdered. Heroes made out of normal men, resilience and bravery seen from our much abused Brihanmumbai Police and the Mumbai Fire Brigade. Men from various agencies risked life and limb to get the young and old out from the Leopold Cafe, CST, Cama Hospital, near the Metro square, Taj, Trident, Nariman House......

My role in all of this? Keeping the memories alive for me, and for everyone who reads this.

I was at home, 11:20 in the night, studying for my semester VII final exams. I remember getting a frantic call from my uncle (who was in the UK) demanding to know where I am. His sigh of relief when I told him I am at home and "not dancing around town". That's when I switched on the news and saw how 12 men were ripping my city apart. From there on, it was a series of calls. Calling up my dad and telling him that for a change I was actually home. Calling up a friend who stays two streets down from the Taj, and being thankful he didn't go out for a walk! Glad a friend had just finished her shift at the Taj in the evening, but praying for her friends on the night shift. Worried about our exam the next day, life in DY was unpredictable, if nothing else...

I also remember when the shock actually set in. Next evening, a friend and I decided to go to our regular Juhu Barista to grab a coffee. We walk out into an eerie silence. Never ever have I seen Mumbai so quiet, not even at 3:30 am in the suburbs. Yes, that is when the pall of mourning that was in the air became real for me. We just got back inside the house and to the comfort of Nescafe.

And now, on 26/11/2009, I am away from my city, and I wonder what has been done. The normal: Politicos going about reforms and upgrades, Pakistan talks about prosecuting a couple of minor players, US and the rest of the world condemn the attacks, DCPs shout about more training, Ram Gopal Verma plans a movie with Ritiesh (or whoever), Mumbai Police tells citizens to be aware and alert (the contact link on their website doesn't work, I checked), MNS still wants the Uttar Bhartiyas out, the Mumbai/Bombay/Bambai argument goes on along with the other usual hoopla-hoop.

But what has been done?

The moongfali-wallahs are back at Gateway, the chai-wallah paddles his way around, the horses trot with the colourful 'Victorias', the awed tourists still pose in front of the Taj, the lights from the Trident gleam bright on Marine Drive, CST is as busy and probably more crowded than ever, beer guzzlers and dragon chicken lovers are back at Leo's. Before leaving her city, missydee went there with a group of friends and toasted the three bullet holes in the glass pane with our cold Kingfisher, see pic! Mumbai's spirit lives on in the lives of its people, who have absorbed the repeated attempts to hurt their city, regrouped and recouped (showing the figurative middle finger) and lived, loved, laughed and cried there, embodying the eternal Mumbai spirit.

Love this photo clicked by a friend, KD. The lights and speed of Mumbai captured beautifully along Marine Drive!

Mumbai, miss you. Bombay, love you.