Monday Musings - 14

Have you been to the quaint little Bagel Shop off Carter Road in Bandra, Mumbai? It’s lovely, bright with comfy low lying chairs, and people sprawled about. Some clack away on their laptop, some are embroiled in a conversation, and others are curled up with a book. The bagels are quite delightful, and I particularly like the coffee that can keep you up all night..and the banana walnut muffins that are sweetened just right.

I enjoy going there. It momentarily stalls time, allows life to take a slower place. Ephemerally, you almost believe life is about just now. Not about the time to come, and not about time gone by. Not like the bookseller by the signal chasing cars to sell books. Not like the rickshaw driver by the street, chasing a passenger who has swindled him off money. And, not like the man from the flat downstairs chasing a girl too good for him.

It makes me think of what I am chasing. What we are all chasing. So many people I know are chasing such rich lives. Spiritually, culturally and socially fulfilling...meaningful, and productive. They make me envious, in a good way. They make me anxious, in a good way. They push me to chase.

And, chase not after money, and powerful, and all other things tangible. But, passions long forgotten, dreams dearly held, and little madness-es we were once too scared to discover. Like a sixty year old aunt of mine has just joined dancing lessons. And, another has started working.

It takes a lot of courage, I imagine, to take such a step. But, if they can, I know I can. It’s about a little step, isn’t it. And, I’ve been told this Monday, that if I do, or you do..or both of us do..victory is in store.
My chase has only just begun.


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Monday Musings - 13

Time and again, I'm humbled by the many wonderful people I've encountered; the many lessons they've taught me. On Friday evening, I was seated in the second-class compartment of an Andheri-bound local train, when a handicapped hawker boarded the train. He has severed both his hands, but still manages to sell bangles, earrings, trinkets and little knick-knacks. He also manages to groom himself astoundingly well - with a funky hairdo and a well-washed pair of denims. It's a marvel to watch him guiding his limbs, and executing a sale ever so efficiently.

A couple stations later, a blind man boarded the train. Guiding his way with a feeble pole, he is selling tiny combs, little toys and safety-pins. While the girls gushed over the earrings, nobody wanted to buy safety pins. The man with severed limbs however, did. He stopped the blind man, handed him some loose change and bought a useless plastic toy off him. Incredible! I was humbled. Some of us have such big hearts!

I was reminded of this privilege once again, at the launch of Suma Varughese's 'Traveling Light.' While the book launch itself was fantastic, for me it was such an honour to see a woman I revered on stage, celebrating a dream-like moment. Suma along with Nari Hira, Shobha De, Sathya Saren and Luke Kenny introduced the book, whilst discussing its many facets.

I was reminded of Suma's incredible generosity. When I was seventeen, and chasing an unsure dream, she took me in. Guided me, taught me, scolded me...and when I needed a change, even put in touch with able teachers. What little I know of writing, editing, beats, proofing, QuarkExpress I owe it to her. And, another incredible woman, who Suma put me through, Priyanka Sinha. Amidst all my childish exuberance, my lack on knowledge, and unforgivable mistakes, here were two women with little time, but giving hearts.

I am thinking of them this Monday. I am thinking of their unconditional generosity, of their invaluable teachings. And, I'm thinking of how a Thank-you will never be enough.


[More Monday Musings here ]

Monday Musings - 12

We are a small audience, in a charming little theatre. We are watching 'Grey Elephants in Denmark.' And, we are gawking like little children, and giggling like young lovers and muddled, and intrigued, and fascinated. Produced by 'Out of Context,' 'Grey Elephants in Denmark' is a delightful two-part stage show that brings magic into theatre. In it there are things disappearing and then appearing, there is mind reading and deciphering, and other charming little tricks that hold our imagination. And, that allow us to leave, only when we are truly enchanted, when we are truly convinced of all that is magical.

Hours later, we are still starry-eyed. And, magical isn't just a line of cars that never ceases, and a row of people that winds and unwinds...magical is a little family in its struggle for survival, a little family truly in love. Magical is everything around us, every little speckle of this bright, decrepit universe...that still somehow holds itself together.

Magical is a string of wheels awaiting to test the Bandra-Worli sealink, even if it is free. You'll whine about the traffic jams, and the potholes- but isn't it marvellous? Many mind, many hands built this- and a city has so easily come together to salute it! And magical, almost surreal is the taste of victory after many trials. The Federer win, the tears in Roddick's eyes, the true spirit of sport. And even, the sadness of a goodbye. Magical is the promise that we shall never part.

Magical is all of these things that occur, all of these that bind the mundane and lace it with splendour. We are so priviliged to experience such little, and big joys. Such little, and big moments we never expected. As if they were all pulled out from within us, and unfurled with a cheery smile. Setting us off for a moment of delightful disbelief, and winding us back to a place where all is beautiful, and all is magical.

A place where you and me, are thankful for the little things we live with. The little things we live by. The horrid Fridays and the magical Mondays.

[More Monday Musings here ]

Love Letters - 24 (This makes it 25 letters!)

It would be wrong not to think of you at all. For all the little moments of joy, for all the little smiles that lingered, for all the little secrets we had tucked away...it would be wrong not to think of you at all. But, how easy it is not to think of you today. Once it was impossible, but now it is so easy. Now, you are just an occasional passing thought, now you are just a bitter angry thought, now I do not know you at all.

Now, just now...we almost have no memories. Not because we didn't make any, but because I do not want to remember the time. We have nothing in common now. No little sparks flitting about us, when we cross each other. Not because they disappeared to anywhere at all, and not because they were never there. But, because I, I do not allow them to emanate. I no longer will.

And, it isn't because of time, or it isn't because I never loved. No, it isn't even because now I am cold, and angry, and without a heart. It is only because now, it must not be.

You and me, we had our time. We had our days that stretched out like little bubbles in an ocean of happiness. We had our days that were difficult like a yacht upon troubled waters. And, we had our days we were forlorn like the shore awaiting the ocean. We had our time. And, we had our chance.

When you think of me then, my love, remember I did once love. Remember, I did once fight. For our love. And, remember it was true. Remember, my love, when I said forever, I meant it. And when I said I care, I still do today. But know that you walked away.
Even in the moments I pushed, even in the times I prodded... you never stopped, you didn't turn around.

And, today as we have faded into everyday life, and I have found other dreams...I want you to know that. I want you to know that I gave us a chance. You would remember me by that, wouldn't you?


[ Wow, 25 may seem so small, but to me it is immense. I'd have never thought I'd get here. Thank you for so many comments, and all the good and bad things you say! Much love.More Love Letters Here ]

Monday Musings -11

As I write this, a furious wind lashes outside, and raindrops find their way onto Mumbai earth. My city is embroiled in a celebration - the coming of a new season, the disappearance of an old foe. If you follow my writing, you must know by now, the rains are here. And, even as people line up promenades, climb up to terraces and merrily walk about patches of green, not everybody is happy. As the rains linger, they leave behind a melancholy so deep, a sadness so uneasy.

Words pour out easily in the rains. Blogs are filled quickly with poetry, and prose and rambles in the rains. Roads line up easily. Streets are filled with cars that seldom move. Yet, a peace is settled above them all. The rains make an easy excuse. And, perhaps sitting there in a car, watching the rain, is worth every bit of heartache. For the rain is only a seasonal friend, a part-time lover. And, some of you would know, the sadness that brings.

The rains so easily make me fall in love. If only I could fall out of love, I lament. Perhaps, I should greedily feed myself with hot donuts like the girls and boys that stop by MadOverDonuts (donuts are a new phenomenon, in this city) or perhaps settle for butta grazed with lime, and salt and pepper. I have yet to have my share although. Because, I am still so enchanted by its beauty, I can only gaze at the rain wondrously. Like a difficult lover, it sought so much patience from me. And, now that it is mine, I can scarcely sink it in. And, I cannot fathom it.

But, as I watch young school-children splash about maddeningly...as I see the boys from my office step out for a cup of piping hot tea...as I find swimmers' take in the joy of a monsoon swim.. I know I must no longer wait. My love, this love is fleeting. I must savour it quickly. Even as some find the rain so romantic it makes them mushy...some find the rain so melancholic it makes them weep...and some find it so furious it makes them angry... I too must allow the rain to sell me its charm. I'm off this Monday, a little break from my routine, to embrace the rain. I hope you do too. And, then I hope it paints you an everlasting smile:)

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Love Letters - 23

You must know by now, how easily the rains take me to a faraway place. Little drops build big dreams in my world. And, in my big dreams, I imagine I am a song. Your song. The song that makes you do a jig every single time you listen to it. The song that sets you off to a faraway place. With words strung together that make you think, dream and hope. The song that reminds you to smile. Always.

And, then sometimes, I imagine I am a piece of writing from your favourite book. Words that linger, long after you have read them. Words that stay with you through worlds old, and new. I imagine I am a fairytale, the one you read when you were young, many years ago. I imagine, to you, I am that lovely little tale of love, and happiness. I imagine I remind you, of your childhood. Of your innocence. Of a life so banal, it is without fear. Perhaps, I am like that castle, always there. Like that gingerbread house, always divine. Of that flawless background score, flowing so perfectly in and out of your life.

Other times, I imagine I your shuffling feet, as they pick up speed. I imagine I am the thrill, you know only when you are running, the joy you only know when your mind is free. Or, perhaps I am the day you wear so comfortably, the night you sleep in peace. The promise you know you will keep. The anger that fades quickly away, the insecurity that withers away.

I imagine, we are the like moments people cherish. We are like gawking teenagers at a fantastical amusement park, like starry-eyed children at a toy store, like adults in a moment of unadulterated success. And, as I float out of my far away place, I smile at how easily the rains fool me. How easily they make-believe me.

[ More Love Letters Here ]

Monday Musings - 10

Sometimes, I wonder if we are so caught up in our busy little lives, we so easily forget to laugh at ourselves. We're always running around chasing money and chasing clients, we're so caught up in our lives other than the ones we dreamed of. Our lives at work, and traveling to work, or our lives running errands and keeping things in order. Oh, how easily we lose the plot! How easily we lose sight of our dreams- of our happy homes, our happy families, our zealous ideals, our stardom hopes. We leave it all behind in our race, our routine. We let it all so easily slip past for a tomorrow.

Stop to catch them? Perhaps, there's no easier way than taking sometime to laugh at our madness. Maybe, we take our lives too seriously. Perhaps, we need to watch the things we occupy so much of our lives with, with a funny glass. And, laugh at the things we give so much importance. The meetings, the running about, the stress, financial goals. Or, in my work life for example, the running back to office, the backstabbing, the endless meetings.

Just like Omkar Sane teaches us in his debut novel, "Welcome to Advertising, Now Get Lost!" He takes us through the Indian Advertising world, bit by bit, getting all of us to laugh at it, with it and also at ourselves. Because, you and me we make up a little part of the madness. Even if all we're doing is buying the delicious new Nokia Supernova, just because Priyanka Chopra dresses it good.

Launched on Friday the 19th, by Cyrus Broacha at a gathering of friends, family and mentors, "Welcome to Advertising, Now Get Out', got its first few laughs at the launch. With funny man Broacha, there's little else to expect. Back home, curled up with this beautifully illustrated paperback, it was time to discover.

Discover the darkness in his humour! I began quickly to think our flailing lives, and the laughter we so desperately need. Loudly, I laughed at me. Silly. But then again, a lot less silly than the madness that crowds this Monday.

[More Monday Musings here ]