Monday Musings - 19

Off Mahim station, there's a little lane that runs along the opposite side of the Mumbai Wall Project site. A swirl of dust,kirana stores and hutments welcome you as you step in; and if you are me, welcome you everyday. An everyday that no longer is. On a Monday as free and mellow as this, I am thinking of that lane by Mahim station, of its warm welcome, of an office that resides in it.

I am thinking of the steps on which we shared many a story, and spilled many a secret...I am thinking of planks of cement where we found many a 'creative idea.' Over cups of hot, sugary tea in plastic cups, not glass ones. Of the smell that greeted us at the chai-wala- a mix of fresh tea, Mumbai sweat and a faulty bathroom pipe in the building above.

I am thinking the bhel-wala and the spicy concoction he would toss up to soothe our burning hearts. And, the sandwich store that served the cheapest, most wholesome salad sandwiches I've ever had at a mere Rs. 7/-. I am thinking of the quaint little bakery that found its place amidst industrial shops. Heavenly deserts, lunch saviours and happiness chocolates. And the little snack corner that shut down; I am saddened by this thought. A quiet old man with many stories started the store selling chicken ham and mayonnaise sandwiches, and then it shut down.

I am thinking of him, and the man who fried vadas serving piping hot breakfast to hungry Mumbai workers every morning. I am thinking of the grand white gate, we would swing a step on...to an office without windows. That was brimming with love, with work, with happiness, with anger, with passion, with success and the occasional failure. Bursting of stories, bursting with secrets; welcoming people and bidding them Goodbye.

I am thinking of the people who make our working life a little easier, a little more comfortable. I am thinking of nights spent searching for answers, and solutions in the moonlight. I am thinking of taking-off to places not so far away, and letting ourselves go. I am thinking of the rare luncheon, evening walks and desert outings. I am thinking of the friends, that came and went. And, I am thinking of the ones that stayed. And, the ones that will.

I am thinking of mornings so fatigued, and nights so weary. I am thinking of that excitement of an encouraging E-mail. Of the thrill of going 'Live.' Of the people who teach, the people who whisper and the people who stay so quiet, so still. I am thinking of me, who I was when I stepped into its walls. And, I'm thinking of me as I transformed amidst its walls. Of the moments the memories, the people their stories, the lessons the learning. I am thinking of them all this Monday, and I am sayin' a little prayer...

A little Thank-you.

[More Monday Musings here ]

Monday Musings - 18

And just like that another Monday rolls in, putting another week in the past, earmarking another time in days gone by. I am, if you must know, feeling terribly nostalgic. A slew of occurrences in the week gone by has left me wistful, and sentimental. Last Tuesday, I met an old friend from college...and her charming little five day-old-son, every bit of his Mum, every bit of adorable. In a room with a window, we sat...talking of our college years, talking of people, places and time gone by.

This Monday, I am sifting through old mail on a rickety Outlook Express software...two years of fun, two years of memos, and downloads, and instructions gone by. It happens to be my last Monday in an organization where I have spent over two years. And last Monday, I was at Bombay Elektrik Projekt's 'Wince,' a fun reading session that dug into diaries, and journals from the past.

I must confess, I was a bit weary. What's a diary to an Indian teenager, I thought? And, how many of us really had one? I was to be surprised. A handful of us old hags turned up at Cafe Goa, our old, worn-out, little lock diaries in tow. And took to stage, and ranted, and giggled, and shared.

We had many stories of teenage crushes. They seem to be a high point in our journal lives. Little tables comparing one cute guy to another not-so-cute-guy; intimate accounts of our girlfriends' and glorious accounts of our college lives. A heart wrenching piece on a grandmother lost, and one man's very very vivid imagination and a beauty-contest turned wild.

All of which of course took me back to my journals...their frayed pages coming apart with time. So I set off onto some terrible discoveries...pages plastered with lyrics of the Backstreet Boys and pictures of Leonardo Di Caprio from the Titanic. Pages scrawled with hearts and crushes addressed with blanks, and lines filled with cheesy, rhyming poetry. Pictures of friends, slogans of cool, newspaper cut-outs of my favourite columnists (some saving grace!) And, depressing pieces picked out from the Chicken Soup from the Teenagers Soul; resonating obviously with my angst-filled, troubled teenage-self. There were few streaks of rebellion too; but truth is I didn't Wince.

I found most of my younger self (and the little bit I discovered of everybody elses') to be pretty endearing. Just like the past ought to be. Somehow this stands me in good stead for the changes to come, the time to turn.

You can look back and laugh, or look back and cringe...and then you can look back and smile, and look back and be just a little bit sentimental.

[Thanks for reading here! Everything on this blog is cross posted from this link. More Monday Musings here ]

Monday Musings - 17

Considering last week was a warm, sunny one in the middle of what really is the Mumbai monsoons, I had a lot to be thankful for. I had some respite from the sultry summer wave...languishing at home, on a terrace, by the window. Sitting atop a friend's beautiful house in Goregaon East. Watching the clouds float, the sun collapse, and the crowds thin...while munching on browned toast, and sipping on strong, gingery tea. And then on, watching some movies.

Of the movies, Roland Joffé's 'City of Joy,' made it to the top of my list. It's a charming, bitter-sweet tale set in a Kolkata slum. The movie painfully pulls out life's many adversities, its struggle for survival. Yet, it is heartening to see the hope, the joy, the light in their eyes. Imagine living in such deplorable conditions. And, learning how to be happy! 'City of Joy,' made me think, love and cry.

It also taught me how to love. 'What is not given is lost,' is the quote at the end of the movie. It made me think of the love kept back, the love saved for a rainy day, the hope to someday do something good for someone...Each day I didn't do anything, was a day lost. Was love not given, was love lost.

The thought stayed with me on Saturday, when I watched 'Marley and Me.' I'm certain you've watched this adorable tale of one man, a woman, a dog and the happy family they build. It is such a delight to watch a movie with a happy family, that loves as it learns. And, to watch a woman and her dog dancing to the music, while her husband watches from the distance. As the film fades into black, the following lines appear: "How many people can make you feel rare and pure and special? How many people can make you feel extraordinary? "

It's nice to think about that this Monday. And, it's nice to know there a few. Through distances, through adversities, through struggles for survival. It's nice to know there's still a glimmer in that eye...

[More Monday Musings here

Monday Musings - 16

I wonder if you have ever been to the CCI? I wonder if you have played with its wet, glowing grass...if you have sat upon its cane chairs, if you have hung around its marble promenade watching the rain come down? Or, have you perhaps snuck up to the bar for a drink, or to the coffee shop for a lala puri..or have you better still, watched a game of cricket...whilst having a little conversation with the cricketers? I know I have, and I know I have been lucky.

The Cricket Club of India Mumbai, is a joyous celebration of a old world charm, of cricket, and of an all new world brimming with elegance, sophistication and joy. I was there today too, and I was sitting there watching the water ripple in the swimming pool, I was thinking of legacies. I was thinking of the things we have in our lives, not because of us, but because of our parents, and our families. And, I was thinking of how lucky we are to have them.

Of little family heirlooms like a piece of classic antique jewellery. Like a lovely house by the sea, in a village so far away. Like a home in another country. Like a recipe for a divine biryani, or perhaps charming chocolate chip cookies. Better still, a fantasy tale, or a real story, or a folk tale...only for you, and the family you left behind.

I don't know, do you have one of those? Do you have an artistic chess piece, or do you have a library of books so old, and famed their pages are wearing thin...but their stories remain? And, do you have a lovely little tale of your grandparents who danced, or of your aunt who ran away with the wondeful man who stood her through time? Do you have a story that celebrates where you're from?

I'm thinking that we must celebrate, this Monday. Celebrate our little exclusivities, and privileges that come from the generation before us. We should give them more than just a moment of our time. For these are the things that have unknowingly shaped so much of us. And, these are the things we should be thankful for.

At least I am this Monday...for the things that we are born into, the joys we are lucky to have. The joys that take little, and come by easily. Legacies...

[More Monday Musings here ]

Monday Musings - 15

The Bombay Elektrik Project is a fabulous group of youngsters come together, and currently they seem to be on mission 'Poetry Slam'. A bunch of self-proclaimed poetry-lovers, we were at the Caferati Open Mic at Prithvi, last Tuesday. A hurried hour of Hindi, and English poetry, with a good measure of pretty singing thrown in, meant we were still wanting more. And, so off we went to MochaMojo, which by the way, is the revamped Cafe Mocha at Hill Road, Bandra. The place is quirky. And, the Lemonade comes in a classic, old big-sized, curious glass bottles. This part of the evening turned out to be electrifying, encouraging and funny- with a lot of talented poets and performers come alive!

Other good things happened last week. Little achievements, little acquisitions, little spiritual fulfillments. That are of course, magnanimous if you consider the stillness that often is life. The moroseness that often is life. The often troubled, difficult, draining life. Amidst all this hullah-bullah of last week, I turned twenty-three. A little older, perhaps, a little wiser. Birthdays are a good reminder of all the love that surrounds you. All that you should be thankful for. Birthdays, also make me introspect.

And, so there I was last Friday, thinking back at the year that was. The year that was a triumph of so many little joys, and yet a series of so many tribulations. I knew I was thankful for read meets, and spiritual meets, and new friends, and humbling old reunions, and marvelous discoveries. I knew then I was thankful for this blog, for my writing, for the friends who'd stood me through. But, then I also realized the price. Its cost.

I also remembered the things I'd lost, the things I couldn't get, the things I wasn't yet blessed with. The things that were still taking their time. The things that may never be. And even, the things that turned up after a whole year of seeking, wishing and waiting.

It made me realize, that life, like love often takes too much, and gives too little. Then too, it is worth it. It is valuable. I hope that stays with you this Monday. Just like it did with me.

[More Monday Musings here ]