Down Nostalgia Lane

So this has sort of become a new ritual of sorts - I stay awake all Saturday night and at the crack of dawn, or a little before that - pick up my bag and camera and set off. This time I went to Bandra. 

Now, Bandra is my 2nd favorite place in Mumbai (the first is Town). It has this old - school charm which is evident in everything; the houses, churches even the pavements. At the same time has this buzzing vibe thanks to the people, the sea and those amazing murals which just leaves you awestruck. But most importantly my love for Bandra can be entirely attributed to the fact that it reminds me so much of home - Goa.

Bandra in fact, was gifted to the ruling Portuguese in the early 1500's 'for meritorious service'. That explains all those familiar Portuguese surnames I keep seeing on the name plaques here, among other things. Also, the architecture - those houses with slopping roofs and verandah's along those tiny lanes. With roads named Mt. Carmel Rd among many others, I can't help but melt in a puddle thinking about those narrow, winding roads back home leading up to beaches in the south. 
And it is the one place in Mumbai where I will find the maximum no of cars/bikes with a Goa (GA) registration. Sigh.

As much as I would love to believe that Bandra is like Goa, it is also bursting with a flavor that one can never get enough of - Mumbai. I have seen graffiti and then I've seen what Bandra's streets have to offer. Do me a favor and just walk down Chapel Rd and see it for yourself. Until you decide to go, here's a sneak peak.

 

There are a few places in Mumbai which are quiet, well at least at some time of the day and there are fewer that become your personal sanctuaries; at Bandra Fort, I found mine. Over the years, it has been revamped and 'beautified' but what stands now are the ruins of a glorious past. The Fort also gives you an amazing view of the Bandra - Worli Sea Link which now gives you another reason to visit it. Also 2 of my favorite movies,  Jhankaar Beats and Jane Tu Ya Jane Na were shot here. (Relevant Bollywood reference: Check)

I headed home aching legs and munching on some insanely delicious Pav from A1 bakery. Again. SIGH! 

P.S. Photographs with a Canon 600D by yours truly :) 

By The Sea

Disclaimer: No this is NOT a Robert De Niro movie ,how I wish it was. (Ref: the title)

Coming from Goa, I figured I'd hate Mumbai beaches (which I do) but there's something about a city by the sea. The one thing that's a constant in this maddening city; the crashing waves or the stirring water. Maybe it's the salty breeze, though it's definitely got to do something with the calm it brings upon you every time you take a moment to experience it. 

I've always been in love with visuals and then I realized I could capture some myself. This was the result. 

(Marine Drive)

(Worli Sea Face)

 (Haji Ali Dargah)

One year and 10 days in this city has confirmed one fact, the sea is it's charm, after the
people of course, or before. A little confused.

P.S. Photographs with a Canon 600D by yours truly :) 

I am going to change my life today

I am going to change my life today, well atleast one aspect of it. I wish I was strong enough, brave enough or stupid enough to go after I want. I can comfortably say, I've said that one too many times. We all have I guess. I think a part of the reason why we hold on to something so tight is because we fear something so great won't happen twice. We remember the beginning, the good times, the great times and that's what we fear we'll never happen again.

We have a habit of resisting change, call it comfort or just habit. We aren't really excited about drastic differences in the way our lives go on. Even those of us who so proudly parade that we live on the edge, not necessarily adventurous but who's call of the day is spontaneity. Some sort of routine, something that we are so used to doing blindly without even blinking or a second thought. In a world that is change constantly changing, we need something to remain constant. Right?

No, because change is inevitable, change is how we progress, change is the only constant. When we say things like "people don't change" it drives scientist crazy because change is literally the only constant in all of science. Energy. Matter. It's the way people try not to change that's unnatural. The way we cling to what things were instead of letting things be what they are. The way we cling to old memories instead of forming new ones. The way we insist on believing despite every scientific indication that anything in this lifetime is permanent. Change is constant. 

How we accept change now that is upto us, if we refuse then that's it, we'll never move ahead, progress or be any different. think about it, if we never grew up, never changed like we asked every person in our school scrapbooks to do so; we'd be the same naive, clueless version of ourselves just older. But here's the good bit, if we do just give it a chance, open up our fingers, change can actually be quite exciting.   

So here it goes, my famed parting note and a quote by the man himself : If you do what you always did, you will get what you always got.

For the past 33 years, I have looked in the mirror every morning and asked myself: 'If today were the last day of my life, would I want to do what I am about to do today?' And whenever the answer has been 'No' for too many days in a row, I know I need to change something. 
                                                                                                 - Steve Jobs 

                                                                                                              

The story so far

I love a good story.  I am in awe of the humans behind each and every great story told. Stories help people. Stories make us laugh and cry. Stories lift us up. And Storytelling is one of the few human traits that is truly universal from time immemorial. When the cavemen picked up that piece of charcoal and scraped on the walls of those caves, little did they know they were writing one of the first stories, ever! (Or maybe they did and were just acting cool about it)

In the early 20th century American writer Ernest Hemingway made a bet with a friend who told him he couldn’t write a story in under ten words. It’s impossible, they said. Not one to give in, Hemingway came back with this one-line tale:

For sale: baby shoes, never worn

It really did have it all — an introduction, multiple characters, an emotional turn. Spinning a yarn seems to be a universal human instinct.

Think about your favourite teacher at school or the stories your grandparents would tell you for hours.’Just one more story,’ you’d demand. Why did you want more? What makes a story so appealing?

People in societies of all types weave narratives, from oral storytellers in hunter-gatherer tribes to the millions of writers churning out books, television shows and movies. But the best stories—those retold through generations and translated into other languages—do more than simply present a believable picture. Call it a script, plot, book, gossip or anything else; stories make everything interesting. How and Why do we remember great books or movies? It is for their brilliant characters, the one's that lived that story, it is for the emotions that we felt while watching/reading them. You can tell a story is great when you can put yourself in it, immerse in it whole and feel it as it progresses. Stories in a way are like 'flight-simulators' for life, a means of putting you in different situations. Cause when it happens for real, you know what to do.

In 1979, before the movie 'Alien' was released, a brilliant man Steve Frankfurt wrote a line to promote the movie- "In space no one can hear you scream". The sheer brilliance of this one line never ceases to amaze me! It allowed the audience to put themselves in the story and co create its own sense of claustrophobia thus capturing the idea of the movie and aligning every experience with it. A story in its own right!

For all the years that we've lived, each of us have been introduced to new characters. From the pesky elder brother who dragged you off your mothers lap to your best friend, without whom you wonder what would you be, not to forget your doodhwalaa and of course Batman. All of them have once central character and that is you. So now that you feel all special and important, the least you could do is make you story a little more interesting, isn't it? Imagine watching a movie or reading a book that rambles on without making a point. You'd be like just another Tushaar Kapoor movie or one of the books from the Twilight series. Nobody wants that, nobody.

And no Tushar Kapoor is not the note I'm not ending this post on but on this one.

"We all want to meet someone who will tell us more about ourselves".

Of Threads & Bonds

So now I get some of it, not all. There were times, when they made me run till I wouldn't run out of breath. Watch that terribly scary movie, while I screamed and clawed their hands so that I wouldn't fear the other demons I'd meet in real lives, or was that just for kicks? Make fun of me and tease till I would get angry (which wasn't too difficult) and beat them up, and they still wouldn't stop, so all the teasing by random losers didn't even make a mark. 

They are shamelessly possessive, terribly kind , incredibly crazy and hilarious to the point of being ridiculous, wait a minute, they are!

Brothers. The best characters in my life.

There hasn't been a moment in my life that hasn't been influenced by one of them and at times all. We grew up together, we watched each other rise and fall, make it big in our lives, celebrate each others accomplishments; whether it was climbing the first mango tree together or graduating with honors. They nursed me when I was unwell, bore all my tantrums, taught me a million lessons. The immense pride and regard that I have for them and everything that they do is inexplicable. Role models, Superheroes, Knight in shining armor; they fit the bill for all of them, and more.

I have a million reasons to thank them but majorly for introducing to all the cool apparently "boys will be boys" talk. Ask me anything and not everything about computer configurations, football clubs, action movies and I will yap your ears off for hours together.

Not because it's Raksha Bandhan, or maybe it is because it makes me miss these guys more than ever. And despite distances, arguments or time, we are going to be this crazy bunch of old timers, listening to 90's bollywood tracks, chasing dogs on the road, driving a beaten up old car and laughing till we couldn't breath.

This is Mumbai

Runs day in and out

A maze of towers and shanties stand tall

Tracks and trails weaving in and out

Dusty highways and forlorn by-lanes

This is Mumbai.

A rush everywhere, but nowhere to go

Seeing people everyday, never meeting any

Begging for some time but none to give

A flurry of hurried footsteps everywhere

This is Mumbai



Rains that fail to cease

Enchanted by rivers and creeks

Waits for none but pleases some

Makes it murkier, but hey

This is Mumbai


Fall in love with it

Embrace it for what it is

Fast. 

Enchanting.

Crazed.

This is Mumbai.

Lights.Camera.Drama.

The two masks associated with drama represent the traditional generic division between comedy and tragedy. They are symbols of the ancient Greek Muses,Thalia and Melpomene. 

Yes, stop rolling your eyes and wondering,"When the hell is she going to get to the point? and give us that life altering piece of wisdom, WHEN GOD WHEN??". You see now, why i picked to write about drama. I'm full of it. More on that later. 

So in our lives too we see a little of Thalia and a little of Melpomene; the comedy in how we tragically try to deal with the blows/lemons life gives us and the tragedy that we fail to see the comedy when its glaring right there in our faces. We end up way too much time trying to take ourselves too seriously and also making ourselves look like we mean business. I mean seriously, think about it, what purpose has that served. Remember when, the kid with bat always ran the show, "Merko batting nahi milega, toh main bat leke ghar jaa raha hoon". See, you owned the place!

Ok, not the best example, but you get my point right. People who say they hate drama, are just plain bored, boring or belong to Sweden. 

And me, well ask my friends and they will exaggerate a whole lot and it still won't do justice. Some may even go to the extent of calling me obnoxious, then again I flap my arms in their face and ask them to change their minds, whilst singing a song. Face it, we all need a little bit of fun,excitement, crazy emotional confrontations, lots of gasping and 3 times slapping of the poor souls around you (I am Divya Galagali and I have watched one too many Ekta Kapoor shows) 

We all have a flair for the dramatics, Indians I mean, and if you're a descendant from some other country, GO BACK <insert foreign name here> GO BACK!!! I'm just kidding, no seriously, Go!

Nautanki zindabad! This will be my party ka slogan/war cry/celebratory words,you have to vote for me. Voting Lines are open from 21:00 hours, The individual who votes the most, gets a evening with me , complete with bhel puri, nimbu marke and mosambi juice ( Please get your own plate and glass,thank you). Hurry up!!

Those who were looking for some sort of gyaan or have an epiphany on reading this post, I do not make apologies, but since you'll cry and make a big fuss about it, here you go.

“All the world's a stage and most of us are desperately unrehearsed” 
                                                                                      
                                                                                                                      - Sean O'Casey

Unplugged

There are a few things that I can remember from my childhood, stuff like, tripping over a toy,hiding under beds and tables, but one thing I distinctly remember is my mother's voice, singing to me, while she put me to sleep. I don't know how, but I can still unmistakably remember how I felt every time she sang, floating paradise. Yeah, that and I didn't have a care in the world, (considering I was 1-2,yea that feeling seems about right). Now that was mostly my ma, but the song, the feeling still lingers.

They say the best kind of music is the one that touches your soul. I haven't heard many of those recently, but any music that can invoke an emotion is a winner in my books.

We all have special memories attached with certain songs there are those that, moved you to tears,that made you laugh, that made you dance. There are people and there's their song, and no i'm not talking about artistes here, I am talking about your friends, like I have one song that I associate with almost each one of them. The songs range from classics to pop to bollywood, lots of rock, never rap, even if they like it, I can't stand it. It's just a lot of cuss words and New York city codes and stuff like dawg, yo,thang being yelled at regular intervals.

I've always been in awe of people who make music, who sing,They're wonderful people just because of it, well atleast the one's I've met are real gems. My music sir,back in school, he was something else, I am yet to meet somebody as awesome as him. A couple of friends who's singing always lifts my spirits,even when they are humming something distractedly. Then there are those who wouldn't mind listening to my crabby voice, and actually find it nice, beats me,but I have to admit it does feel good.

Above all, it's the numerous discussions I have with people because of music,with people I've never met or complete strangers, and whoever knows me will vouch that I can make walls talk ( that's NOT true!!!) but it's great to have talk to somebody who speaks your language, I would have never known about the epic Woodstock festival back in that late 60's,or known about how beautiful Spanish music is or the various genres of music I stumbled upon if it weren't for those memorable talks.

Today that I sat down and thought about it, it struck me how much it's a part of me, as much as I am of it. Sounds strangely philosophical, especially when it's coming from me, but it is what it is.

Music gives a soul to the universe

Wings to the mind

Flight to the imagination and

Life to everything.

( haha, chew on that!!)      

Lost In Translation

Moving to a new city, has its ups and downs. I am not much of an optimist, but I can see the glass as half-full, depends on what's in the glass. So in my view, wearing my brown-tinted glasses, new city, new people, new experiences. And as a very famous man said, "New is always better". Yea, Barney Stinson.

But with this comes a new challenge, I call it a challenge because it is quite a daunting task to stay away from your phone, your Ipod,Ipad,I-what-not, when you have nobody to speak to, and all you know is what's trending on Twitter, what's the latest on goal.com, cricinfo.com, what's the latest on which confessions page, where are you checking-in, what will you Instargram. I have forgotten, what it was like before we had all these 'smart' gadgets, faint memories though.

In my daily travels, to work and back. I have ample time to just look at people. Now looking means a lot of different things to different people, for me, its the observation bit and not stare or lech, though that too happens, occasionally. So while making that commute, everybody is absorbed in their own function, some lost in thought, others plugged into music and yet others hanging on to dear life from the little rope that we all clutch on to, now and then.
I was sitting listening to my all time favorite, "Hotel California",  and I see this girl, just ahead of me who was talking animatedly to her mom, and the mom heard her out and replied to her animatedly. I turned down the volume, to realize that the girl was speech impaired. I turned down my music all together, and the next 15 minutes I witnessed the most beautiful conversation I have ever witnessed. Through gestures she told her mother, that she saw a dog and how it followed her around, and when she turned to follow it, it licked her feet, and she loved it and asked her mom, if they could buy one. And then she spoke some more about some friends she met before, the trees that were passing, how they stood hung and dry because of the heat, and the bridge and a couple of cars, I could understand this, because I could read her lips and her mother's responses.
Here was someone who spoke I would say, because I understood everything she said, her heart out about her day, people she met, things she witnessed. And she wasn't done. She had a phone on her, but not once did she open it to even check for messages, so engrossed in describing her day, things she saw, things she felt. Now I’m a certified emotional fool, but I feel this was a incidence I think that would even makes stones budge.

^Talk about Irony!!! 

Among the best conversations I've had are with my dad, Just for the record and those who were sharpening their knives and forks, sorry folks. 

Now, what I say next, may make me come across as preachy, but what the hell, if you have been reading my blog, haven't you noticed? I Preach!!! Just makes you think at times, to switch off and just talk about things that are close to you with the people that are close to you, a little more often than you already do.

The Relapse of The Anti-Feminist

In light of what's happening in our blessed nation, the brutality inflicted on small kids, how people can even do something so heinous and still live with themselves is beyond me. Now I am no expert on criminal psych, so I don't have much to say on that account apart from 2 words, Hang him!, But I do have something to say on the feeling of feminism which is visible evidently post such crimes.

I won't campaign for gender equality! Crazy huh? coming from me, who's been howling about  better treatment of women all this while, rather obnoxiously? When one speaks of gender equality, it equates to men and women having, equal rights, same social standing and being treated the same. While I agree on the first 2 accounts, the third I'm a little skeptical about and here's why. Well, to begin with, I don't want to be treated like a man, an opinion I think most women would agree to I believe or rather hope. It's pretty simple actually. I am not a man, I don't have the same needs, so don't treat me like one. Yes, respect my space, treat me right according to my needs, rest I can deal with.

The one's leading these "treat us the same" campaigns, are the one's who'll expect a man to give up his seat in a crowded bus, open doors for 'em, jump the queue, get the picture, right?

At the risk of sounding "anti-feminist", I am not even remotely ashamed to admit that there are many things in my life which I wouldn't be able to do without the help of a man. Simply shooting down ideas and opinions that don't sound pro-women is pointless and this non nonsensical feminist ideologies are what give me sleepless nights (only when I am downloading Grey's Anatomy episodes) 
All I am saying is, the easiest way to end this tirade between genders, is to treat them as individuals, see what you like or hate about them, before stereotyping them based on their gender. And this is for both men and women!

Celebrating womanhood is a great thing, but this kind of mob mentality and needless demands aren't going to serve any purpose. Instead one could just focus on making the best of what one has,you would achieve much more because you would shirk the fixed notions of how much you’re supposed to have achieved. By doing this, you wouldn't just be getting your life in order but set a precedent for others to follow.
Just accept that there are certain things that the men in your life do it better than you, whether its cooking or driving (I can see my brothers taking a victory lap,Idiots!), instead of contesting and challenging their every accomplishment, just saying, we could co-exist more happily. But if you keep doing things, just to prove that you're better than him, in Marlyin Monroe's words "Women who try to be like men, lack ambition".

Yesterday Today Tomorrow

I miss a lot of  things in life.. people mostly, but there are some experiences you have, that are just so awesome, that they never repeat themselves. Well a major contributing factor of course is the people you had these experiences with.

And you know, the crappiest part is, As you're traipsing down sweet la-la memory lane, you end up missing all of this even more when you are certain that there is no chance of it happening, atleast in the next 10 mins(the phase where you're feeling a little emotional and nostalgia just keeps crashing over you)

So things that I miss :

 Rains, now rains are so goodamn apt for this "I miss you/that" mood, you can't help but think that way, its all gloomy and clammy, the ambiance is set. And the Chai Pakode, there's some bizarre excitement and enthusiasm that these hot,greasy treats bring out in you. Oh and my favorite singing and dancing in the rain endlessly whilst stuck in rains in the middle of nowhere.

Beaches, I don't know, is it the never ending expanse of sky and sea, the calm or what, it's bound to take you down that memory lane. The crooked sand castles you made and proudly posed with for numerous photos as a kid, getting drenched in the middle of crazy waves, floating around driving life guards crazy, burying people under blankets of sand. and drawing weird (at times questionable) things on them.

Inbox, messages of yesteryear's ,plans, conversations, conspiracies, birthday wishes, tiffs, true confessions (not the kind that's doing the rounds on FB nowadays ), just makes you replay all those times, those moments with the whole picture being painted, like it just happened yesterday- those secret "hideout spots", making up spooky tales, early morning return after insane birthdays and Niteouts (don't ask ;) ) and  night-in's usually involving a movie marathon, some chai-biskoot and loads of Maggi.

Now saying that I miss just these times, would be the understatement of the century. But as much I miss 'em, I look forward to making new memories and newer experiences with people I have met and I will meet. Because you're only moving forward, when you're looking ahead. So yes, a little measure of nostalgia for the soul and we're back to the present. It's like how Master Oogway says (Kung Fu Panda fan here!)

"Yesterday is history, Tomorrow is mystery
Today...is a gift!! That's why it's called the present.."

More than strangers

People who you've never met, never seen them beyond their social network DP's (most are photoshopped to perfection ), some you give a second glance else it's business as usual.
In the last couple of months, I've had the pleasure of knowing a few of these strangers. A pleasure, I'd say cause meeting them has been nothing short of awesomeness. Now this usually doesn't happen. For many reasons : 1) being yourself is too mainstream, although people may scream about it from their rooftops, saying it and actually doing it are 2 entirely different concepts that some bozos can never grasp. 2) people have way too much time on their hands to tell random people thing like "Hi, will you fraand me, I am cool and smart" , yes this an excerpt from a message, it happened, for real.

Anyhow, screw the bozos, about the awesome strangers I met and yet to meet a couple of 'em, in the journey of pursuing a common goal. What amazed me was that, there wasn't just a match in the way we thought but also in a way the kind of lives we've lead, the people we've met among other things.
Now this was exciting because, because they had so much to share, teach and experience, we did it together and how!
And until very recently, I hadn't met any of 'em, and when I did, it was just a validation of everything I had thought about them. I still stand by the idea that friends I've made till now are my friends for eternity but that doesn't mean I couldn't have more on board.
That instant click, that connection, wavelength match is something you are always looking out for or rather should look out for, that's where and when the magic happens

So the next time you meet somebody who you don't know too well, or before you turn away before getting a chance to know 'em, think again! Who knows, they might just turn out to be more than strangers

P.S. No, I am not asking you to accept "Fraaandhip requests!!! Please by all means Ignore 'em and Block 'em. Cheers

Dekh Bhai Dekh

A week back when Asaram Bapu, didn't know who he was up until then , made a statement on how Nirbhaya should have reacted in that situation. She should have pleaded, called them her 'brothers' and asked, sorry, begged them to leave her. Now my first reaction to this asinine comment was to berate my choicest gallis in all the languages I know, but on further research and couple of news flashes later, I realized he wasn't the only one. There were close to a thousand people at the gathering where this "Ass-aram" made these statements, and I can bet you my little toe nail and win it back when I say that, a good 100+ in the audience there clapped and nodded in agreement.

The prolific rise of the self proclaimed "God men" is not startling, I say this cause we are a nation that worships these gurus/saints/babas and will garland anything and anyone who can "heal" AIDS and others of its kind. Switch on your TV and you will catch them dancing to some bhajjan, and howling some mantras and touching new heights of ridiculous. Now in my personal opinion, old men in overalls singing and dancing on national television are a load of bat droppings. I wouldn't give 2 hoots about what they say. But nowdays they seem to have a lot say!!!

And it's not just them, every tom dick and harry, with a famous daddy or a seat in the assembly has a ridiculous insight or suggestion to make. Bizarre even doesn't even begin to describe their statements, right from how Chowmein is the reason minds are getting corrupt, making little girls wear overcoats at all times and of course the show stealer, calling the man who is raping you, Your Brother.

The bit that saddens me the most is the that a large population of our country agree and  stand by such chauvinist and medieval ideologies. You can go ahead and set up fast track courts, hang rapists but unless there is an attitude make over, the one that screams "She asked for it", we are in for a long ride.

So, my sisters and brothers kindly give a crash course to any fellow "brother" who needs it rather, deserves it.

For Her

Everytime I hear about a rape case, I am infuriated, I get real angry, swear a lot, hurl my choicest gallis to the politicians, and shudder. This has happened time and again, in different parts of India and my own state, So I resolve that I will avoid going to these places,well atleast make sure I don't deliberately go there. So there was the Mathura rape case, the Bhanwari Devi case, the 3 year olds in Hydrebad and Bidar ,closer home the Scarlett Keeling case and an entire geography mapped out where horrendous damage was inflicted on women. And these are just a few, I'd make a mental note of my not-to-visit places and eventually get on with my life. Then the Delhi gang rape case came along, now Delhi has always on top of my list but this time its hard to move on,it was brutal, it was sickening and just inhuman, but what latched me on was her. Something about this girl drew me from a forlorn purposefully forgotten reality.

Today, I woke up to hear she is no more.

I for one ask for justice fitting of the crime, a week back I would have asked for barbaric ways of killing these bastards, but today I ask for much more.
I ask that every girl/woman treat each other with the utmost respect.
I ask every man to honor women, her body, her emotions,her soul and also to keep it in their pants.
I ask the society to antagonize and cause anguish to the rapists and not its survivors.
I ask the police to be sensitive to a girl's complaint,she may be 'modern' or 'forward', but she is never asking for it. Not to be leered at, not to be assaulted and definitely not to be raped.
I ask the judiciary to amend and fix the loop holes in the laws that let so many get away with such a heinous crime. And the 6 guys, be killed. Yes.Barbarically.
I finally ask the government, enough with the cheap political antics, get working, get working now. 

She didn't ask to be a symbol of courage nor did she want to be a singular rallying point of hope and a sign of things to turn around for the better. Yet she was and continues to be all of this and much more. In the past 2 weeks, she went through an ordeal that made us question our own belief system whether humans are still... well humans.
The brutality of the pain inflicted on her is unimaginable and yet she waned to live, she wasn't a victim, she was a survivor.

I don't know her name, in the past few days she has been addressed as nirbhaya/amanat/damini. Now what remains of her is her spirit. Her family asks for privacy, I hope they can grieve in peace. For me, I don't need to know her name to cry for her, to pray for her, to hope that she is at peace.

The Magic of Sundays

SUNDAY!!!

sounds fun already right??? thought as much.

The day we all look forward too, well not as much as a friday but well sunday is in a league of its own. Back when we were kids, it used to be the only day off from school, so unlimited access to television, and those who grew up watching Doordarshan will know this.. SHAKTIMAAN!!! afternoon siestas, playing endlessly the same old hide and seek , catching cook and all its variations. And yes an evening trip to the beach was a must.

Sundays during holidays were also highly awaited. Parents,reluctantly tagging along kids to fairs, parks,movies. A Sunday morning show was a huge affair: get up early, get dressed and keep asking the grown-ups "lets go??? ", incessantly. Less crowd, less traffic, Empty parking lots, It used to make you smile.

 Sundays, with everybody sleeping in, you would wake up to the chirpy birds, some stray dog hobbling away, and the smell of the amazing holiday special breakfast your mom made.

OK that's enough nostalgia.

Sundays now are totally different, caching up with friends, recovering from hangovers, checking status updates on fb,twitter,bbm,whatsapp and what-not,crazed queues everywhere and anywhere, and don't get me started on the beaches : wannabes, extra cheeky teenagers (actually put them in the same bracket), weirdly dressed tourists and some really gawky locals.

Everybody has their  days, Mine is Sunday. Some would argue and say that it is followed by 'dreadful-pathetic- sad as hell', Monday. But for me, Its about the long talks with my family about anything under the sun, getting my hands messy; painting or cooking. I never could really make my family or friends understand the importance of a Sunday in my life, they don't question it either.

The point of my Sunday discourse is simple. In this mad rush to have more and do more , we forget the little things that made us happy. The very things that you probably intended to do on a lazy Sunday morning but didn't. Everybody has a calling, and there isn't really a perfect time to hear it, but the stillness on a Sunday morning , just makes it  heard a little clearly. May your Sundays be as meaningful as mine.

Always here..

People do not last forever their impressions do.

It's the little things they do that sets them apart from the others, their mannerisms, sense of humor, the uncanny one of a kind style, the funky colorful eye wear and the hard to miss slang.

You'd think that I am being specific.. I am.

You could pick him out of a crowd, the one cheering the loudest of 'em all, that'd be him. You can ask everybody who knew him and they will all have a story to tell you : how he helped them fix their car, how he resolved a lovers-tiff, how he ferried them back and forth from places, how he enjoyed every single moment, how he swept people off by his cooking. A million times over and again, that's how far he'd go to help his friends. 

I have teased, troubled and annoyed him to extents I didn't know I could and he still took it in his stride. He had his ways of getting back but there never goes a day where I wish I could take it all back.Always up for an argument, always at the front of things and always enthusiastic. You'd be amazed at the things he'd do for a dare.. we certainly were.

He had that zing which'd make people get up and dance even if it was reluctantly. Birthday's were incomplete without his trademark midnight wishes and of course the cakes. Always had a tale to tell, long,descriptive and immensely entertaining.

A year has gone by, and it's not gotten any easier to accept that i won't get repreminded for not keeping in touch,that i lost a brother, a friend. 

Prankit.. for all of us.. never gone.. always here.

Food for thought

I was watching Masterchef Australia last night,for those who don't know what the show is about, its a contest where amateur cooks are put through a 3 month boot camp of sorts, at the end of which 1 cook is declared(no prizes for guessing) Masterchef!!!

Now, what's amazing about this show is that,it's REAL!
No drama,no fake tears and no celebrities(yes,I am taking potshots at our desi version). It is about people who love food, people who have day jobs,families to tend to, who have left all of it behind to pursue their passion.

These "home cooks", are put through a gruelling series of tests, challenging them at every step of the show, the goal is to bring out the best in each of 'em. In just a span of 90 minutes, they are forced to innovate and invent a dish or on another day work with a team and whip up something gastronomical and on yet another day,they are put in a pressure test, where they fight for their spot in the competition.

Coming to the episode I was watching, one of the contestants got eliminated off the show, he was asked to sum up his experience at the show, he said and I quote "Being here has re-affirmed the faith I have in myself and that I should listen to my inner voice more often,for now I have realized, cooking is my calling".
And after a few hugs and good byes he was on his way home.
I went into a little deep thinking mode after watching this.

It wouldn't be absurd, I thought, for me to think that the show in a way, resembles our lives. We are expected of ourselves and others to be good at what we do,face a million obstacles and 'pressures' doing them and finding the need of a 'team', people we can count on,a support system.
And in the end we'd sail through this journey of life without any resentments if we'd truly love what we did, to be called no,Not Masterchef, But true masters of our lives and not its slaves. Some food for thought eh?

Lessons from my friends

All my life, of all the things that have come and gone by, most of which I can't remember but what i do remember is always having a friend by my side. Right from kindergarten up until now, the only difference between then and now is , back then I had 1, yes just 1 friend ,she was this cute adorable oddball like me,still is!! And now, I have a bunch of crazies, who claim to own me and call themselves my friends (well i do too.. we agreed to complete ownership rights of each other!!)

As a kid, I was extremely shy,reserved and I only did talk to my family and friend (yes, just the 1), as the years passed by I realized that "other people", aren't that bad after all.. they are in fact quite nice (well most of 'em). I inferred that my friend seemed to get along well with them and the fact that she didn't get eaten up also seemed to help somehow.

Lesson 1: People are nice, Talk to 'em.. Just talk!

Cut to college, I met specimens (still talking about friends). I say this because these guys had to be custom made for me (and me for them). They had and still do have, the ability to make me laugh while I cry, kick my ass while I sit, make me dance and call me Micheal (yeah.. Jackson.. who else?), come up with the most ridiculous and hilarious plans which always seem like a good thing to so. Yes, my friends are closet magicians  ,indeed I am truly blessed!

Lesson 2: Love and trust the people who love and trust you. 
And Don't panic if a dog starts walking behind you, but if it starts running, you better do too ..panicking and running!!

So i continued with my education, bless my parents for having faith in the grey matter of my brain. This time around, when I say crazy i really mean it!! They sneaked around and taught me how to.. drove people nuts and taught me,this now failing art.. eliminated my residual sanity and branded me a complete and certified crazy. They never failed to make my day by just being in it.
Lesson 3: It's never too early to start having a good time, 
if you decide you are not good enough, ask the people who believe in you more than you do in yourself. 
And ..always... have an alibi for your last night's whereabouts.. always!!

I went to school and then college and then some more, most of which I can't remember. But what I do remember is.. the school band I joined because of my friend and found the love for the most beautiful thing in the world: music. Overcoming my inhibitions and fears. Laughing.. a lot!! Making everyday a day to look forward to.. living it...loving it!! 
I could do all of it or rather I can't imagine doing any of it, if it weren't for my friends. They say classroom is the best place to gain knowledge. Agreed. They say life is a great teacher,you learn as you grow. Agreed. But I have to add, friends teach you the biggest lessons ,no school teaches or no teacher can read from a book. You just need to find the right "educators".

Lessons from my friends, 3 and counting.... Now available in Spanish too;)) 

Olympic Woes

"A population of 1.2 billion and all we could bring back from the London Olympics were 6 medals? and not a single gold? . We trusted them so much (read:athletes), they have let the nation down."
The above comment in 1 way or another has been quoted by the rags, the media and any tom dick or harry , who until the commencement of the games didn't know who on earth  is Mary or Sushil.

6 medals is a huge deal. Looking back at India's run at the Olympics, this is the best yet.

All this hue and cry about how we, "The world's second most populated country in the world couldn't win more medals and countries with a quarter of ours won far many medals then us", will die down in the next few weeks and surface again when India goes to Rio for the 2016 games.
Let's face it guys, we don't really give a damn about them. I might as well be a little honest over here, because until the games started we didn't know or cared what these sportsmen and women did.

Whereas on the other hand we have a game that has hooked generations, churned out millions with its own premier league and which to date is played in nearly every gully of India. Yes, cricket, the religion that we solemnly have been following all these years. We worship them, pray for them, stay up nights, chant their names while we watch them play. We know everything there is to be known about them, right from their schedules to their WAG's and their pets and bikes.

In India, Cricket is THE only sport that counts, well atleast for 3 and a half years. Here is a sport that has the best; in terms of infrastructure, facilities, training, moolah, exposure. If  half of the attention we give to cricket is given to the rest of the games, India will be the sporting superpower, we dream of.

But who cares, the next India-England series is coming up and then it will be back to business. We don't care if Gopichand's academy is razed down by the government or that the national archery team doesn't have a premises to practice. No, all we care is that Sacin scores another ton. (not to undermine the great Tendulkar's contribution, he is the best)

We say that its the athletes that have let us down, but the fact is we have. We don"t believe in them, we don't acknowledge their hardwork and dedication. Playing a sport in India which is not cricket is a feat in itself and to represent it at the Olympics, is worthy of more than a few praises.
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Here's hoping that all these remarkable sportsmen achieve their Olympic dreams, that they have a better chance at winning the next time with better training and facilities. And that we, support them more often than once in 4 years. Gagan,Vijay,Saina,Mary,Yogeshwar and Sushil and the rest of the Indian contingent we are proud of you, it takes more then amazing talent and skill which you have, to do what you do. More power to you'll...

It's a man's world!!!

As much as it saddens me to say this... in India... it is in fact a man's world!!!

Its appalling how women in our country are treated, they are traumatized, harassed and on many occasions subject to humiliation and character assassination. Be it her workplace,a public gathering, her home or her mother's womb...she is not spared. Her integrity is questioned right from the moment she is conceived to the time she dies. Every step of her life is struggle for survival.
India appears 4th on the list of countries declared unsafe for women to live.( not exactly the best list to be on) . Delhi, our national capital also known as the rape capital. I won't deprive the other states of their due, trafficking, dowry, female infanticide, domestic violence... at least have 1 of these horrendous crimes to their credit if not more. So much, for a country that calls its motherland, Bharat Mata...(if this isn't irony, then i don't know what is)

The babus sitting in their plush offices tell us how much they have done for the upliftment of women in our country, how, through so many schemes and yojnas have done nothing but improved their living conditions, and to prove their point they guide our attention towards our current ex-president, the lok sabha speaker ,the leader of the biggest political party in India.

Well then kindly explain , how do 15-odd men get away with molesting a girl,a minor if i may add? How does a cop not face any charges but is let off on parole for raping a girl in his chowki? How do innumerable doctors, parents not face any consequences for killing a female foetus? How do the khaps still stand without any conviction for "honorably" killing girls?
They further have the audacity to pass ridiculous comments like- "if you dress like that, you are bound to attract negative attention" , and this is not even where the ridiculous part begins. The most bizarre coming from the head of the National Commission for Women in India- "being called sexy,should be taken in the right spirit". Let me impress on the fact that the head of the NCW is in fact a woman.

What will it take for the legislature and judiciary to come up with laws so austere that these bastards will think a million times before offending a woman? A divine intervention, perhaps.

It's clear by now(clearer then before,that is) you cannot expect justice in a country where rapists are promoted to DGP's ,where ministers in power have been accused of numerous criminal offences against women and continue to do so, where a woman whose offender roams free, lies in a vegetative state,after being assaulted and beaten up 40 years and still counting.
It's not a complete distrust in the justice system, just a complete loss of faith.

A message to the men: It's been said time and again, but just for the benefit of those who weren't listening then... Treat a woman, the way you want you mom or sister to be treated. (to those who already do : spread the word!!)

A message to the women: Learn some self defense , carry a mace or whatever suits your fancy. Be alert, be strong and be safe, cause, it doesn't look like things are going to change around here.