Thoughts Back Home

Thank you all, for missing me! S and I came back last night at about 3 am and I'm all cranky with sleep. I will write about my meet-the-people trip later but just a few thoughts before I nap.

• Among those spending the Republic Day Weekend in Dubai, there are some who do not want to be seen doing this (may be they told the friends that they were sailing in South of France). Hence, can typically be heard making such conversations as they deplane, to dissipate their suddenly LS image : Isn't it so artificial ... I just don't feel like going out the airport! Pray tell me, you did not know where it was headed when you got onto this flight? Neena called and said she has rented a villa South of Istanbul or may be it was France, I told her we were very busy or would have joined ... I tell her only this - it's all cool. We understand. You don't want to be seen as a Dubai-going person, but then these are recessionary times - be easy on yourself!
  
• I was pleasantly surprised that the TV had our very own Doordarshan channel! I realized that watching Republic Day parade on Doordarshan and waiting for the Birla Balika Vidyapeeth Band (better known as the Pilani girls band) still gives me the same high. Its my school (one of the many) after all!
  
• Whichever class I travel, I could never cut somebody off and thrust my passport in to tell someone, anyone that they should wait in the line for Economy as this one is for Business/First. Ever. Which is what this evil uncle who was ahead of us in line did this to an unsuspecting foreigner backpacker couple. So much for Athithi Devo Bhav. Seriously, how can you do that?! It would like, take a minute or two for them to get done, why be so rude? When I used to travel to work by local train, I could not even bring myself to walk to the front of the line and buy a first class pass if there wasn't already a separate queue, while an entire serpentine line waited. In fact, that reminds me of how these aunties in the local trains would go up to people who didn't pass their visual examination and ask them to show their first class pass! Imagine that! I'm still infuriated.
• I have opened the registration for people who want to join me in my morcha to get Ikea to India. I am tired of lugging stuff every time!Anyway, half of the stuff me wants is un-luggable :(
  

Ta!

Me off to my second vacation in as many months! If only I could keep up the consistency!

I shall be back after four long, tiring days of fun. Miss me.

Good? Bad? Ah, just mix it all!

There's no such thing as a bad thing. Or good. Its all just a messy, sticky bundle of both. It seems that every good thing in life leaves behind it a bit of sadness and vice versa. May be this is how it is supposed to be, to balance it out.

Amit is in India for his father's barsi, in fact he has been visiting every six months since the last year and I have been able to meet him more frequently than I have in all the years J and he have been gone ... which is SO good and would be really great, if not for the sad reason behind it. He reached Saturday night and was here till today morning, a good 36 hours including a Sunday so YAY, I had a really great time this weekend.

It started with Amit, S and I having a late dinner on Saturday and chatting till late, followed by a majorly lazy Sunday morning with much chatting, laughs, breakfast and some quarreling between S and me over who would get up from the sofa first to get ready. We had planned to have lunch at Lemon Grass and landed there only to realize that its shut down! I stop my many-a-week visits to Phoenix Mills and see what happens to the place! They should have begged me not to quit my job (I used to work nearby) and they would have remained in business! I digress ... we finally went to another favorite - Tamnak Thai at Shivaji Park and had a very tasty and very hot lunch which had all three of us shedding much water from the eyes. Somehow I have a history of senti, heart-to-heart chats over meals with Amit; a history which easily goes back a decade. So in keeping with the tradition we did have a serious chat, though not so senti this time. Hey, where's that bravery award for me?! :)

The evening was much fun with Abhinav, Amit, S and I taking the party to town for a long walk at Marine Drive, many cups of Tea at Tea Centre (and I am a not even a tea/coffee drinker!), a few breezy hours of laughing, arguing, pulling each other's leg and having a good time followed by more of the same over drinks at Woodside Inn, accompanied with even more passionate discussing. Ser directed us there after we peeped into Mondy's and Leopold and wanted away from the crowded noises and table hogging (Thanks Ser, loved the place! ). After so much mehnat, we rested our tired bones and had dinner at the Worli Copper Chimney, dropped Abhi and returned home with happy memories. Ha! It was one of those days when you feel saturated from having laughed, talked, eaten too much and from having had entirely too much fun.

Later at night, S and I were talking and said almost the same thing wistfully. If J and Amit lived near us, around us or just not-so-f*****g-far-away from us, we could have had more of this, it could have been more than an annual/bi-annual event in our lives. I slept with this thought and woke up with it on one my (least) favorite days off late - Ooh!Monday! (@#$%) After much moping around and having a summarily crappy day, I had a thought.

I'm seeing this as the bad in my good but may be this is the good in my bad. I have these people in my life, I have the kind of family a lot of people would kill for and I also have some really really wonderful friends - may be more than my fair share (touchwood, people!) - most people are not as lucky to have this much. May be this is my good and if that's the case, I would pay the price gladly. I would take all the crappy Mondays and all the pining and missing and reminscing that is out there, to have this 'good' and won't mope either.

Colored Scraps and Blue Skies

Hitch Writer's post here brought about a wave of nostalgia that I was trying to not let surface for some days. I have lived in Jaipur for a few of my growing-up years and my parents still live there, also I've spent two years at MICA in Ahmadabad. If you've ever lived in that part of the country or even been there in the winter months, you would know that with the sun up the skies turn the bluest blue you would see. In the backdrop of these azure days comes 14th Jan, which is a state holiday in both the states of Rajasthan and Gujarat, it being the much awaited kite flying festival, known as Makar Sakranti or Uttarayan respectively.

Although the kite-flying starts many days in advance, THE day is the final reckoning. I have memories of entire households camping it on the rooftops, armed with their music systems blaring the latest bolly music, platters of hot yummy snacks and food making their way ever so often, from a single warrior to an army of 8-10 kite-fliers manning a single terrace and a never-ending stream of visiting friends and relatives contributing to the kite-wars across terraces. These inter-terrace interactions were such fun, there would be much challenging, attacks, counter-attacks and sledging. With such colorful setting and the girls very much in the frey ... the start of a few romances was to be completely expected. After all, we don't watch our movies just for fun, there's much to be learnt from them as well! The colors, the energy, the food, the music, the war and the love of it all. Its to be experienced to be believed.

Although my abilities in the art are amateurish my dad is a pro and has many stories starting from the time when he was a boy and used to make his own manjha (the sharp thread used so that you can cut other kites) by coating the thread with crushed glass. Whenever we are together for the festival we troupe to buy the kites and other paraphernalia; whenever we are not we talk about the times we've had and dad tells me how he didn't feel like flying kites alone(without me) and got only few. Anyway he did most of the flying even when I was there, every time the boys from the neighboring terrace managed to cut more than 2-3 of my kites in a row I would call him to clear the skies for me. The bonus was of course no work in the maths class next day with everyone's fingers taped up with numerous band-aids. It was almost un-cool to not have your fingers criss-crossed with manjha-cuts as a proof of your valiance!

Even in the later years, in Ahmadabad me and my friends would climb on to the hostel terrace and spend the day flying a few kites and making much noise, chatting lots, lazing and munching most.

With all these compelling snaps-shots swirling in my head, I couldn't NOT fly a kite so I did. With no wind (courtesy the tall buildings around), borrowed kites, manjha and in the society compound. They didn't stay up for more than a minute and there was nothing war-like about it. However, I did manage to get them into the air and was as excited as any other kid around me. There are things which give you joy no matter what and it is joy all the same even if some of it may be borrowed from people, places, sounds, sights not present around you at the time.

Year of Finished Business

This year has to be an year of new beginnings and of finishing the unfinished business (I AM writing the new year post, ain't I?).

May this be an year where the past is not forgotten and those who fell are not left there, an year where the wounds heal and those with compassion in their hearts find the time and courage to wear their hearts on their sleeves. An year where we don't completely lose the pain in our hearts but do find the hope to look to the future.

So all you guys out there, have a great 2009 and may we all have many beginnings and many happy endings in this year.

May this year be the year of finished business!

Moving ahead

I have been away from my blog and my email account for the past few days ... checking them on my phone and not replying. After being glued to them day and night for the past many days I felt that I had to have something substantial to say in my next post. I just felt that I couldn't easily slip back to writing about trivial things in my life; that I couldn't suddenly be normal after everything that has happened. I should not have worried about it, all around me people who were affected have found ways to be and remain a part of this - whatever 'this' is. Overwhelmed is the emotion I have now, next to the grief and anger I talked about - the help and support that people have poured out in every way possible makes me feel like a part of a large whole, it makes me feel hopeful. I was afraid ... what if I got caught up in life and let 'this' die. I should not have worried.

All you guys, we didn't start this but we are going to keep this alive.

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Last Wednesday I went to Town, Town is what we like to call South Bombay. It was the longest drive ever - literally and figuratively. I had planned to meet a darling friend and her mum and also wanted to go to the peace march. A close friend didn't want me to go, his point was that there are other ways to help ... still on my way I had thought that I will go to Gateway, what he doesn't know can't hurt him (or me). There are things you need to do for yourself, this just seemed like one of them.

I was scared, I just wasn't sure how I would feel going back to the streets and places which for me are Bombay. I live in the suburbs in a very well-planned township which is cosmopolitan, has all the conveniences and joys which most parts of Bombay cannot afford like open spaces, parks, malls, movie halls, restaurants, nice looking buildings, minimum filth etc. - everything within a 5 min. walk radius. For living, this is the kind of place I would like to live in but this township could have been in any part of India. For me its the colonial structures, the oval maidan, the marine drive, the arched corridors at Fort, the painters at Kala Ghoda, the bustle at causeway ... these are what make it Bombay. The years that I have been here in this city, I have spent numerous days walking about and absorbing the feel of the place and they just keep me coming back. Even the book sellers who aren't there any more, Churchill, Jimmy Boy, NCPA, Rhythm House ... they all are such a part of this city for me that I was scared for what I will feel when I go back this time.

I did feel that heavy sadness which just settles on you, I felt the anger at the thought of these madmen roaming the streets of my city, I felt the sting of tears . But it was some other feeling that took over very soon. I saw the sea of humanity surging towards Gateway, I saw people of all ages, people from different walks of life, people with laptops and people with children, people in groups and people walking alone, people with banners, our flags - they filled the very streets where the terrorists had roamed less than a week back. With rumors still rife it may not have been the safest thing to have over 2 lakh people gather in a not so large space but it did not seem to matter. I was stuck in the traffic for almost two hours and even those who tried to walk it were a part of a pedestrian jam and never reached till Gateway, it hardly mattered though. I have to say that I have never seen or felt anything like it - that traffic snarl and that logistical nightmare was the nicest thing that happened to me after those days.

The movie Halla Bol has this dialogue which I completely love, Pankaj Kapoor (playing Siddhu) says ... Apne Jism pe chot lagne pe to janwar bhi rota hai, insaan wo hai to doosre ki chot mehsoos kar sake - Even an animal cries when there's a wound on its body, a human is one who can feel someone else's wounds.

Sometimes you just need to know that people are affected, that they will walk to a crowded Gateway to speak up - even if that's the only thing they do, that you live in a world where 'everything doesn't go'.

Can anyone guide me on this?

My aunt who lives in Sydney is a very active member of the India-Club and has also been relaying the sentiments of those in Bombay to the community there. She wrote to me regarding the procedure to help those families who have suffered. I am posting her message here and would be thankful if any of you can tell me how to go about this.

Her Message:
A friend of mine would like to raise funds for one particular Police constable from Uttaranchal (Dehradun) who was amongst first casuality - his name is Rajinder Singh. She felt his family may find it very tough to survive financially so she intends to raise substantial amount for his family, especially for the education of his children. What are your thoughts on this? If we do this, how we can make sure that the money reaches his family and does not get lost in the system? Your advice will be very valuable on this.


They key questions are:

• How to find and contact Rajinder Singh's family?
  
• What is the best way to send this aid?
• How to make sure it reaches the family directly?