The very day Chandrayaan was launched Mumbai was gripped with fear. It was a turmoil of emotions, a lot of confusion- whether to feel happy for our progress or to feel sad for our degeneration. In fact, whether to call our selves progressive or regressive? My milk man was scared; he stood at my door listening to the news in fear. He didn’t know anything about this path breaking progress; he was worried about those who were literally breaking the paths of Mumbai. We have made a move towards the moon, but Indians still don’t have the freedom to move within their country.

Futile News

Great entertainments have mostly been tragedies. Tragedy has the capacity to entertain. Aristotle said that tragedy (causing catharsis) should lead to pleasure. His word has been duly followed by all the news channels in the country. They all have one maxim- tragedy should cause pleasure (and hence increase TRPs). This maxim was aptly demonstrated by the coverage of the Delhi blast on 27th September, 2008. All the channels attempted to make their coverage as entertaining as possible; however, it was neither entertaining nor informative.

News channels have a disability or amnesia; they tend to forget the rest of the world when an incident such as a blast occurs. So on Saturday afternoon all the channels exclusively covered the Delhi blasts. No other news featured, not even as a scroll. Fine but even this exclusive coverage was not exhaustive. They kept harping on the same thing over and over again for more than an hour. Every channel followed a similar pattern: the screens kept flashing, in big font and bold letters – Breaking News, Blasts in Delhi, Blasts at 2:15pm ( or 2:18pm in case of India TV), 50/10/15 injured ( depending upon the channel), while a reporter form the news room kept questioning the on-location correspondents in the background. The questions and their answers were also painfully repetitive and devoid of information. Within twenty minutes of the blasts every channel wanted to know the nature of the blast, also of the injuries sustained, the death toll and most importantly- the culprits. The answers to all these questions were: the police have not confirmed anything. This was followed by an uninformed tirade by the correspondents.

Some channels also provided graphic details of the blasts. According to Headlines Today 2 persons on a black Bajaj motorcycle threw “black polythene” and this led to the explosion. CNN-IBN claimed that the cause was a tiffin box containing explosives. India TV again had the most exclusive and unique news to offer: A Mahila Aatanki (Female terrorist) was the pillion rider who threw the explosive. And, she was wearing a dark colored dress!

By the end of the first ½ hour, post the blast the channels got hold of a visual clipping of a bloodstain on the road encircled with white chalk. The channels repeatedly kept zooming in and out of this bloodstain while correspondents discussed the nature of the bazaar in the background. Some channels like Zee News claimed that this video, which was played for over 20 mins on every channel, was a Live telecast. And Headlines Today thought it to be Exclusive.

Every channel claimed to have delivered the news before the others. But what news did they deliver? They kept saying and flashing the same thing for over an hour. By the end of which all the viewers knew, was that: there was a blast in S. Delhi.

Bisleri … I have had it!

Ever overheard conversations of school children? Usually they like to boast about the great and unique experiences they have had. They like to outdo their friends in having done the new “in” thing before them. And so they rattle on endlessly with tales of uber cool holidays to Paris or US, or describe (in much detail) and flaunt their latest gizmos, gadgets, comp. games, mobiles, ipods, iphones and the like. They talk of the cool restaurants they have been to, the various cuisines they have tried, the latest mocktail or cocktail that they had. Also, of designer clothes and accessories.

Lately I happened to encounter one such competition between two school girls. It was sparked by my bottle of Bisleri water. One girl asked the other what I was having. The other felt great and enlightened her friend about the contents of my bottle. The ignorant girl was a bit astonished that it was just water after all. The enlightened girl carried on, its water, Bisleri, I have had it. When we had gone out last year my dad purchased a big bottle of it (mine was too small, so she outdid me too). We drank from it, all of us had it. I have had Bisleri, she announced with pride. The ignorant was awed by the reach of her friend. After all she had had Bisleri.



(I over heard this, not in a village or such place, but in the trains of our very affluent Mumbai)

In the company of the courtesan

-Sarah Dunant



A very well written and vivid book. It recreates history in an extremely charming style. You almost hear the splash of the waters of Venice as the oars hit against them. You feel the moist breeze, the crowded streets, their din and clamor, a city bustling with activity. Sarah Dunant very beautifully brings to life 16th century Venice in her gripping novel In the company of the courtesan.

Your guide through 16th century Rome (for some time) and Venice (for most part of the book) is a dwarf- Bucino. Bucino is a courtesan’s dwarf. A very realistically drawn character, Bucino takes you across the streets of Rome after the sack of 1527. He introduces you to cardinals, artists, poets, the ordinary no bodies and provides perspective to history. The perspective of an out cast dwarf who has on his own merits earned a reputable position for himself. Though his countenance resembles that of a rat or a dog or even a devil, he is much appreciated for his wit and talent.

This novel brings history much closer to you. You not only learn about the various happenings but also feel them and that too from various perceptions. It deals with many issues and operates on various levels, such as the conditions of the Jews, their problems, their apprehensions and desires, how they were ghettoised and exploited, how fear of the unknown led to their reality being misconstrued and misunderstood. You also see the position of single working women in the form Fiametta Biancini and La Draga, one a courtesan and the other a doctor or a healer. Also the various prejudices attached to these outcasts including Bucino.

Both, Fiametta and La Draga are spirited women who endeavour to survive independently in the most tumultuous of times. We see Fiammetta braving against the sack of Rome. She faces the invaders with panache, wit and nerve. Along with her dwarf she moves towards Venice and endeavours to reestablishes herself. With lots of cunning and pains Bucino and Fiammetta reestablish themselves. La Draga is also an extremely well drawn character. She is immensely talented and is a very good physician. But in order to make a living she presents herself as a blind cripple when in actuality she is a beautiful girl with sound vision. When she heals people in this attire or gives them potions there is a certain amount of mysticism attached to her and so people tend to believe in her powers to heal. However, she is misunderstood for a witch and is also condemned to death for witchcraft. Thus, we also encounter the gaols of Venice and conditions of prisoners then.

The book which attempts to re create history goes beyond that aim. For the characters are not mere caricatures of historical personages. They feel, they emote, they are real and they exist in Dunant’s fictional world as much as in history. Towards the end the narrative slips into the Stream of Consciousness mode. You feel with Bucino, the fear, the agony, the pain, the confusion, of discovering love and friendship amidst long standing misconceptions, then encountering a long forgotten betrayal, followed by immense fury and anger, and then having to face the guilt of destroying the life of one’s saviour and love.

MHADA mayhem

MHADA authorities attempted to elude responsibility for the collapse of Saifee building in Byculla which lead to the death of one girl and which was repaired just in 2003, under the pretext that they couldn’t repair a locked factory on the ground floor of the building, since they have no rights to enter sealed property. They also said that “the tenants did not even tell us that the factory structure was dangerous”. Firstly, it is MHADA’s responsibility to check and decide which structure is dangerous and not the tenant’s. Also, while constructing part of the building the “qualified” engineers of MHADA might have realized that the factory also requires repairs.

And secondly, if they were aware of the vulnerable condition of the building (which they should have been) then it was their duty and right to issue a notice to the land lord to unlock the area for repairs. On refusal they could have legally pursued him and made it obligatory upon him to allow them to repair the building in the interest of the tenants. On failing to do so the land lord would be liable for the damages caused.

It was favourable to the land lord, Thakkar that the factory should go without repair, so that the building caves in and then he can claim rights over the property. Thus, the occupants would become homeless and the land lord would be free to construct another building, sell it, and make profits. However, overlooking the landlord’s desires, MHADA should have thought of the risk that the residents of the building ran for their lives. Due to the callous and lethargic attitude of some officials, today a girl of 20 has lost her life.

Why did MHADA allow the land lord to keep the structure locked? It could have legally forced him to concede for repairs in the interest of the residents. Obviously the MHADA has that much authority.

Also, since this building was repaired in just 2003; it shows the lack of quality of the work done. Mr. Mahesh Dalwani, executive engineer of MHADA says that the building might have deteriorated due to the rain. But it was repaired, precisely to save it from that. Could the MHADA be a bit more efficient?

BMC- provide a solution not a new problem

It’s extremely foolish on part of the BMC to issue a fine for those who feed dogs. True, the excessive numbers of stray dogs are a big menace. However, this is not a solution, it’s a problem. Do they expect hungry dogs to be decent? Definitely hungry dogs will pounce on people with plastic bags. Instead the BMC should reintroduce dog pounds. Or it should keep them enclosed somewhere.

Helen Fielding and her overactive imagination!

Olivia Joules and the overactive imagination
-Helen Fielding

Chick lit slash mystery novel slash terrorism thriller slash feminist concerns book slash woman’s identity/ individuality/ independence search slash Bond slash Holmes slash whatever!

Oh my god! What in the world is this? What is happening? Why is it happening? What’s the aim, the theme, the plot, Is there any story? What?

Just too many “Watts” generated by one Joule!

This is one thoroughly confused and confusing book. All of a sudden a terrorist is introduced then follow M16, CIA, and also a great catastrophe from which the Oscars are saved! And all of this is based on one woman’s totally absurd, irrational suspicions, like Ferramo is “languid”. The book doesn’t seem to make any sense what so ever. It not only requires willing suspension of disbelief but it also demands complete suspension of all sense, logic and rationale. (Despite that, at times it does make you laugh and hence can be called entertaining.) However, it completely befuddles the readers and expects them to be foolish enough to believe the story line (that is, if there is any story line.)

Nothing beats the charm of the written word.

The difference between reading and e-reading is that reading restricts one to the written word, whereas e-reading lets one go way beyond the written word. While reading an article online one can just click or google the words or names or facts (anything) that are not understood and can easily access information or discussions on it. However, while reading physically one has to leave that job for later on (which in my case, since I am too lazy, never happens). Also, the net gives one access to many view points at the same place. Without having to run about, rummage through library cupboards one can easily access many opinions and facts. This is a boon- for it brings the entire world at your doorstep.

Moreover, the freedom to begin reading something else whiles you were actually doing something else; and then to write about some other thing, for which you can receive comments and feedback, is provided only by the net.

However, nothing beats the charm of a physical book. It is the most relaxing activity. When you read from a book, and if you like it, a bond develops between you and that copy. You begin to love it. You keep it safely in your bookshelf, show it off to your friends and when in a particular mood, which that book arouses you re-read it. This personal bond is denied on the net. I can’t love an e-page. I can’t hold it. But my book, my own copy- I can hold it, I can write my name on it, I can put the date when I bought it on it, I can underline my favourite parts in it. It can become my friend, which I can feel and TOUCH.

What does freedom mean to the youth today?

Well, what does freedom mean? This term freedom is not preceded by the article the …I go into the grammar cause I want to know which freedom’s understanding of today’s youth shall I state. Ah. If the topic had said the freedom, then in an Indian context it would imply the freedom secured by India in 1947. Hmm. But it’s not “the freedom”. So then it could also imply the dictionary meaning of freedom. According to OED, freedom is personal liberality, magnanimity; the state of being able to act unimpeded, unrestrained, unhampered. Or does the topic refer to freedom as described by the Indian constitution. The constitution declares India to be a sovereign socialist secular democratic republic and I quote from the Preamble, “to secure to all its citizens:
JUSTICE, social, economic and political;
LIBERTY of thought, expression, belief, faith and worship;
EQUALITY of status and of opportunity; and to promote among them all FRATERNITY assuring the dignity of the individual…”

So these are the different freedoms the topic could refer to. But if this question was posed to any random youth he or she would say “1 holiday” and would be referring to the freedom of 1947.

(Sigh) 1 HOLIDAY!

Well this 1947 freedom, which now means 1 holiday, meant to the youth in 1947 a very different thing. They associated it with pain (I refer to the partition), joy, excitement, agony, hope. Amongst all these mixed emotions HOPE was the all pervading emotion. Almost every individual, even the ones who had lost everything had had HOPE.

HOPE, to set up a new nation, a country. Our leaders like Jawaharlal Nehru were overpowered by the fervour of nation building. “At the stroke of midnight hour, when the world sleeps, India will awake to life and FREEDOM”. A ‘noble mansion of freedom’, he wanted to build a wounded India into it. HOPE is what kept them all going in the most tumultuous of times. Today, in this age, the 1947 freedom is but just 1 HOLIDAY. And it is so because in these times of comfort, the HOPE that they had, has been replaced by DISILLUSTIONMENT. I am disillusioned; the youth of India is disillusioned. “Join us with faith and confidence”, appealed Nehru to the people of India. They have ceased to do so today. They are unable to do so today. No youth can show no confidence in no leader. We have lost faith. And to the disillusioned youth, the 1947 freedom can mean nothing more than 1 HOLIDAY, songs early in the morning, a few crap speeches and dumb competitions (disturbances to sweet sleep)

Wait don’t criticize us. How are we to be blamed? Why are we disillusioned? Because the 1947 freedom doesn’t coincide with either the dictionary meaning of freedom, nor with the constitution’s description of freedom. It is just some historical event of the past, when some India got some freedom from some Britishers and got enslaved by some other Indians. The freedom just performed cut-copy-paste; wherein the British monarch was replaced by the Indian democrat and a farce of freedom, justice liberty, equality, sovereignty was created. Huxley said in Themes and Variations, “to talk about the rights of man and the four Freedoms in connection… with India is merely a cruel joke.” Ha! Outraged am I to hear him say so.

Well, but we didn’t begin this way. We had a good start. Unlike other countries, who gained independence we were able to maintain stability. Our leaders sought to and strived hard to make India stand on its feet. They were not callous or selfish. They didn’t amass wealth for themselves. They were nation builders. They had foresight. The early independence years witnessed progress. There were projects for water management, IITs were set up, nuclear programmes were undertaken, and heavy industries were set up. This provided India with a base. Today we reap the fruits of those efforts; India today is world power.

But … it failed to maintain or sustain its cherished ideals of freedom. A stark contrast to the Nehruvian era was provided by the Emergency of 1976, when all rights and freedoms were curtailed, courts were subverted, press was censored, elections to Lok Sabha were postponed, Sanjay enforced vasectomy. But Indian democracy survived this blow. Democracy was restored once again. But hence forth India witnessed only politicians, who played political, power games, and no leaders. No leaders who were interested in her betterment; only politicians interested in some how retaining and maintaining power.

“Freedom and power bring responsibility. That responsibility rests upon this assembly” said Nehru, addressing the Constituent Assembly. But responsibility was completely forgotten. It feels like opening a Pepsi bottle- lot of froth and energy, and then all fizzled down.

Do we have freedom? Yes, politically we are independent of any foreign control. We the public do count to some extent. The Jessica Lal case, you may say; one, that’s one in a million. And, and, it’s not enough to give me HOPE. I have lost HOPE. I am disillusioned. Forget politics at higher levels, even basic things can’t be done freely, because corruption has got a very, very firm hold over the nation. I, I as a free citizen of free India can’t get my work done without bribe, flattery, influence. I lose my freedom, my dignity (as promised me by the Preamble) to gain my own rights.

The most explicit example of curtailment on my activity is this this parallel economy in India. If I want to buy a house, I can’t if I am a regular tax payer for I need black money for it. So it’s an unsaid rule, go the crooked way to live here. In the ‘noble mansion of freedom’ (as Nehru called it) I have none. Whenever I step to do something, anything I am confronted by some official as a hindrance.

So why will I have hope. Its money that talks or else nothing gets done. Is this freedom? And if this is freedom then why shouldn’t I just overlook it as yet another bank holiday.

“Nickels and dimes, nickels and dimes, war and peace, its nickels and dimes”, said Arthur Miller in All My Sons

“Rupees and paise, rupees and paise, freedom and justice, its rupees and paise”, I could say.



The youth then dreamt of freedom, the youth today yearns for it.


“Where the mind is without fear
And the head is held high
Into that heaven of freedom
My father let my country awake” (Tagore)

The Last Salute

- Sadaat Hasan Manto



Subedar Rab Nawaz’s confusion is a result of the war that he is fighting against his own friends. Until yesterday he belonged to 6/9 Jat regiment and was an Indian soldier. Now suddenly he is a Pakistani soldier and people, such as Ram Singh, who was born in his village, studied in his school and whose father too was his father’s childhood friend, is an Indian soldier. He couldn’t understand that just some time back they were united in the Second World War. But now he didn’t know why he was warring against friends. The motto of war in 1947 baffled him. He needed some reason to fight it and so did Ram Singh, but both were confused- who was this war against and who was it for? Since they knew soldiers on both sides.

Though Rab Nawaz’s confusion arises out of fighting against friends, I am sure every soldier does feel confused as to the motto. Why is he fighting? Why is he killing people he doesn’t even know?

How can one kill many? Just go on killing. There has to be a reason. A reason to justify the acts to one’s conscience, to keep one going, to make one kill. A reason, not just a reason – a CAUSE. It’s noble. My country, I fight for my nation’s pride and HONOUR. It’s a noble cause, very great, very vast. It’s bigger than all of us. However this cause is just so abstract that it creates an aura about itself. Every side feels that they are fighting for good against evil, let alone humanity. But how does good restore its HONOUR by killing. And are wars really fought to uphold GOOD, HONOUR?

Condider this poem:

The Next War

Out there, we've walked quite friendly up to Death;

Sat down an eaten with him, cool and bland, -

Pardoned his spilling mess-tins in our hand.

We've sniffed the green thick odour of his breath,

-Our eyes wept, but our courage didn't writhe.

He's spat at us with bullets and he's coughed

Shrapnel. We chorused when he sang aloft;

We whistled while he shaved us with his scythe.

Oh, Death was never enemy of ours!

We laughed at him, we leagued with him, old chum.

No soldier's paid to kick against his powers.

We laughed, knowing that better men would come,

And greater wars; when each proud fighter brags

He wars on Death - for lives; not men - for flags.

Wilfred Owen

To Kill a Mocking Bird

- Harper Lee


I have just begun to read this book. Hardly read a chapter or two, but I am already mesmerized by it. Very eloquent and expressive writing. It’s like a toffee; very slooowly it melts, and spreads, within your soul. Sweet. The sweetness grips you, stirs you from within, just in the first chapter. The women compared to teacakes, the descriptions of daily life, the children. All so simple and beautiful. I felt I was actually in Maycomb county.
It communes with your spirit.

Weight lifting

I am very tired. Did a lot of weight lifting today. Oh! The college library sucks. The infrastructure is terrible. And the most interesting trouble is that while one part of the library is on the 3rd floor the other is in another building. So, today was my unlucky day. I never step into this stinky library. However, today I did, and I also spent good 4 hrs in it. Gosh! How did I do that?

Well I wasn’t in the library for most of the time. As I mentioned I did a lot of weight lifting, so coming back to that. I wanted certain judgments, quickly, just as always in an attempt to spend as little time as possible in the library, I breezed through a few books and jotted down some relevant citations. Then began my ordeal. I had to go to the peon with these citations and then he’d give me the relevant judgments. Oh! But he was out for lunch and the other peon didn’t want to leave his place so I waited for an hour for the peon. Finally when he did come, we had to go to the other library.

This library reminded me of an old haveli. It had a huge lock and its door creaked just as it does in ghost movies. Then we entered this haunted house and rummaged through the cupboards for judgments. And then I left with three heavy (extremely heavy) books. I had to go up to the third floor to get them issued then down again to get them Xeroxed then up again to return them. And no lift to aid me. After repeating this twice I felt like dumping the books somewhere instead of going up to return them.

Rain capers

It has just begun to rain after a long, long interval. But I am already bored of the rains. It’s all so dull and gloomy and wet. And everything is so filthy. Maybe tolerating the gloominess and wetness would be easier if it wasn’t all so filthy. There’s muck everywhere. Apart from the ubiquitous muck, the rains kind of highlight all the dirt lying about the place- empty wrappers, soggy tissue papers and the rest. It’s so frustrating to look at all this mess and begin a day.

But the bigger problem is not visual, it’s nasal. The open cans of garbage are a dismal sight; but when wet they emanate a much more rotten stench. Throughout the city, the lovely smell of the rain water and fresh mud is replaced by the intensified foul stench of the various wet manholes, gutters, bins and also animal wastes. Agrh!

Rains would be fun if little more attention was paid towards the cleanliness of the city.

Persuasion

A small girl in the train. I smiled. She caught it; flashed a tray full of rubber bands at me. No, I shook my head. I didn’t need any. She picked up another tray of clips and rushed towards me. No, I shook my head. I didn’t need any. Then I looked at her, then at the clips. One of them was fine. How much? I asked her, pointing towards a clip- part of a packet of three. She quoted the price of all three. Not the pack, just one, said I. She insisted, I’ll reduce the rates, take the whole pack. I don’t need any, I reminded, and anyways all three of them look the same. No, she pointed out, one is black and one red (it was a pretty carmine), and the other “chocolatey” (it was dark brunt sienna). Ya, but still it’s the same pattern. I don’t need them.

Then I bought them, all three of them, despite their being identical. Why did I purchase those clips? For her chubby cheeks, her innocence, her cuteness, or for her childhood that was lost in selling those clips.



The least I could do was buy them (lame)

Traveling by waterfall

It’s a unique experience to be traveling within a waterfall. Imagine yourself seated and a portable waterfall alongside spitter-spatters cool drops of water on your face. And this while you’re traveling!

To avail of this experience you’ll have to travel by the railways in Mumbai, during the rainy season.

Not only the window, but even the roof of the train will splash water on your head, face, bag and so on. So enjoy the waterfall ride.

“Protective discrimination”

The government has failed in its part. And has shunned responsibility. It has taken the easy way out in order to pacify the public. Things like reservation are a facade. They hinder and not enhance progress. Such “protective discrimination” doesn’t protect anybody.

Instead of reservation the government should see to it that it fulfils its responsibilities. Better education facilities ought to be made available to everyone. Mumbai has just 4 medical colleges; instead of increasing the number of colleges the government has tried to camouflage its inefficiency by introducing reservations to an extent that there are only about 200 seats available in the open category. As a result a worthy student loses an opportunity to study in Mumbai. This has led to undue stress and severe competition amongst young students. And this terror of not acquiring admission has been well exploited by the various coaching classes. They charge around Rs. 36,000 per subject. Anxiety is clearly visible as admissions to some of such classes for standard 12th and MH-CET were complete just after the tenth standard results were declared. So, a student who worked hard through out std. 10th and scored 90.30% was denied admission to a class (not college) of her choice!

The government should show some concern for its hard-working youth and make some seats available for those who score. It cannot make these students pay the price of its negligence by introducing ceaseless reservations. And any ways reservations don’t even benefit those who they are intended to benefit. For these students who again admission on the basis of reservation still lack the knowledge that a merit student posses. They would benefit if the government were to provide them with better educational facilities and not reservations. So, please don’t shun your responsibilities towards the citizens under the garb of reservation. And those of you who demand reservation, instead please demand for your right to quality education.

Boats for 26/7

Churchgate station witnessed a host of changes in the past few days. First of all an array of walk through metal detectors were installed. Good heavens for that- one metal detector that had loyally stood all alone in a corner of the large station has finally found some companions and also now its presence makes some sense. Or else, all these years no one even bothered to check whether it functions or not, by walking through it. It had endured this loneliness for too long now.
However, my head was spinning all this while. After all why was the station being made all so “secure”? Then on 7/11 when I saw many healthy Labradors doing the rounds of the station and some politician giving a speech, everything clicked. Of course these security measures were being taken since 7/11 was approaching.
So, on the big- day the station was flooded with security officials. Hats-off to our security forces. I guess on 7/26 we shall see many boats on the roads.
What if it decides flood on the same day?

A GUIDE TO my ex-college CANTEEN AT LUNCHBREAK

The moment the bell for the lunch break rings, you should begin to run towards the canteen. Or else the mob that comes out of all the innumerable classes will block all routes to the canteen. And then reaching the canteen will become a mammoth task. You will encounter minor skirmishes, long lost friends (who insist on blocking the stairway while chatting hours on end), and those who don’t follow the traffic rules, blocking your way to the desired canteen.

Well, once you have some how managed to reach the canteen, then you will realize that getting across to the canteen counter (to acquire food tokens) is like trying to get across the road while a cycle race is in motion on the same road. You’ll have to battle with famished girls to get this blessed token.

Now you’ll have to wade through a sea of ravenous girls and give this token to the guy behind the counter. This has to be followed by a long wait. Wait. Wait. Hey! What? That other girl took your order away. Wait. Wait. Ah! Finally you’ve got it. But wait again. He has made a mistake and has given you veg fried rice instead of non-veg. oh!

Yeah! Congrats now that you have finally received your lunch you will realize that there is no place for you to sit and gulp it down. But don’t worry, any way the bell has gone. So now fight the same battle amidst the hordes of people to get back to your class.

And your food?

Don’t worry. The crows will finish it for you.
(the cat can help them)

P. S. Keep trying

A new beginning

A new beginning has never been so tough and easy at the same time. Transition from school to junior college was easy for me. While most of the girls missed school, I had no pangs of longing. In fact I fervently hoped that I shouldn’t find someone from school in college. I was pretty excited about this new beginning and wanted it to be new- without any traces of the past. And that it was – new- I began afresh, no one knew me. So I made new friends and a new image (or so I thought). Everything was nice and fun. I loved it and never missed school. Not that I had an extremely bad experience there, just that I enjoyed the freshness of everything around me. I felt different and this excited me.

I left junior college to join senior college, once again filled with a lot of excitement. I had high hopes and many dreams. My new college set my pulse racing. It was lovely and again I didn’t miss junior college. However, this time I missed my friends. Missed them a lot. It felt like a physical pain. I am a very reserved person. It takes me a lot of time to settle down in a place. It was different in school I’d make friends with the girls around my seat. So I had rotating friends- they’d change as and when teacher would change the seating arrangement (we had to sit at a fixed place allotted by our class teacher). But that wasn’t a problem I always had company I enjoyed. But in junior college things had changed, I had changed. Or may be it was a result of my freedom to sit wherever I liked. I ended up spending two years of junior college with just four other girls. Yes, just four, no more friends. We were like a cloister. We didn’t attend college unless three out of the five of us were present.

So in senior college I felt lost. I had to sit with other people- after a gap of two years. Oh! I was so used to sitting with just them. But then slowly I got integrated, made new friends. And I began to enjoy again. Senior college was fun. In fact it was excellent. I didn’t get stuck up with a few people as I had done in J.C. so when I left senior college to join Law College I thought this transition will be a cake walk. After all I wasn’t attached to anybody as such.

But then for the first time a new beginning was so tough and easy at the same time. Easy- because in post-graduation people seemed to become friends pretty easily. There was no need to get adjusted; people were not interested in that. So I made acquaintances in the first 5 minutes, despite being late by a week. The delay didn’t seem to create any problem. The atmosphere on the whole was very casual.

However, I was very uneasy. For the first time I didn’t feel excited while going to a new college. For the first time I missed an institution, not certain people, but an institution.
The campus, the canteen, the bookshop, the Xerox shop, the coffee vending machine, the trees, the corridor, the benches, the blackboard, the long climb to my class, the view of the Arabian sea from our classroom’s window, everything. Without realizing I had developed a bond with the institution. And I miss it.

As I go to Law College daily, I miss my college. And what makes it tougher is that I won’t be able to love my new college in the same way. Despite being the best law college in Mumbai it is as dingy as can be. The only solace is that the staff here does teach well.

Mumbai application
Mumbai apprehension

Since no one is accountable

Tenth standard results were out on 26th June. And the rush to secure admissions began. Long queues and more long queues were in vogue this season. Though the state government did attempt to change this eternal trend of long queues by launching a website called mumbaiapplication.com. Nevertheless, the traditional pattern of long queues prevailed. Mumbaiapplication.com provided the facility of applying online to various colleges. However, it failed to get rid of the apprehensions attached to this new facility. Students and parents were skeptical. The site itself declared that, “Deputy Director, government and any of its employees carry no liability what so ever.” Furthermore, principals of various colleges had denounced responsibility for online forms, in case of any error.

Against this backdrop of no accountability, anxious students lined up outside colleges for hours on end to purchase a form, then again to submit it. Many students applied both- on-line and off-line. In this fashion spending twice as much money and time. Sheila Tiwari, state deputy director for school education, had said that, “[she] was looking for a way to introduce technology to fight admission woes.” However, these admission woes seemed to be never-ending, as students and parents stood in ceaseless queues since 27th June, while tolerating the rains and the heat.

While errors are bound to take place, nonetheless if some authority would assure rectification and guarantee admission (in case of a fault on their part), then students would have peacefully applied online, within the comforts of their homes.

Besides accountability another disadvantage was that not all colleges had registered on mumbaiapplication.com, namely Patkar, Bhavans (Andheri) and Sathaye. This site was also supposed to display the merit lists of various colleges, which were declared on 3rd July at 3.00pm. Conversely, until 12.00pm on 3rd July the merit lists of only 12 colleges were available on mumbaiapplication.com. Colleges such as Ruparel, Ruia, Jai Hind, St. Xavier’s and Mithibai had put up their merit lists on their respective sites and not on mumbaiapplication.com. Certain colleges such as Sathaye did not display their merit list anywhere on the net. In order to fulfill its claim of displaying merit lists on mumbaiapplicaton.com, the state government should make it mandatory for all colleges in Mumbai to register and upload their merit lists on mumbaiapplication.com. Thus, students can avail of all the advantages of this site.

Mumbaiapplication.com provided 24 hours access. So, students could fill and submit their forms at any time of the day. As a result, parents would not have to miss work. Moreover, mumbaiapplication.com would save all the data filled during registration and this information need not be re entered while filling many forms; thus saving much time. In fact S.S.C. students of this academic year just had to feed their seat numbers and the site would fill in other information such as marks. The use of zip cash cards was also very thoughtful since everyone does not possess a credit card. Altogether the site is a very good attempt but despite these conveniences only 25% applicants in the open category for science, 0.87% for open category commerce and 0.13% for open category arts at Jai Hind College utilized the online form facility.

If accountability was taken then this site would have proved to be a revolutionary change. And many more students could have benefited from it.

Rome Was Not Built In One Day

Rome was not built in one day,
I know it,
The garden was also not built in one day.
It underwent
stages of transformation;

1st it was a plot
with some swings,
we used to play,
the big boys broke them,
and in summers,
cricket they used to play,
in the monsoons,
(a pond),
swimming and sail paper boating
they used to play.

Then after y-e-a-r-s
(the garden predates me)
they decided to build it,
an elaborate thing,
A jogger’s park,
a nana-nani park,
a children’s park,
all in front of my house.
With a huge ornamental piece of grass in the centre
all empty, (why)

1st they cultivated it,
different kinds of grass,
Different kinds of flowers,
sometimes beautiful,
then suddenly! All yellow
Now they want to turn the centre
into a badminton court
Rome was not built in one day,
I know it,
The garden was also not built in one day.
(still not ready)


A small plot of land
Many people
Many ideas
Some religious
(religion was kept at bay,
The garden is a place to play)
Some politicians,
Lots of time



Whatever it is,
better it is,
or else we still wouldn’t play,
In summers,
cricket they would play
in the monsoons,
swimming and sail paper boating
they would play.




My country
B
I
G
Piece of land

L O T S of time…

Mango

When I pass by the kitchen I smell sweet hay,
As I enter the kitchen, the smell intensifies.
This smell comes from a basket full of hay
In which are embedded scrumptious mangoes.
I move towards the basket and put the hay aside,
And remove a ripe yellow mango.
It is as warm as a chick.
I wash it with ice water and remove the hay stuck to it.
The entire room is filled with its aroma.
I then take a knife and begin to slice it.
It is orangish yellow, looks very pretty and alluring.
Then I dig my teeth into the soft fleshy fruit
And pull it off its skin;
Into my mouth.
Ah! It is sour.
Tuck! It’s sweet, sour.
I begin to take small bites and suck it within my mouth.
The sweet, sour taste is tickling.
Yum! It melts into my mouth.

Mumbai's roads in the rains

It's raining, it's pouring,
Mumbai's streets are breaking
It's soggy, it's dirty
BMC was sleeping
So people are weeping
It's raining, it's pouring

Rain's pain
Since government's vain

doggies

ALL THEIR DAYS


Maze

Right, right, now straight,
a little left, now straight,
a weird curve, now straight,
careful, careful,
I can’t hurt any of them,
I am walking through a maze,
of doggies.

Oh! I am home.
They are safe.
(Actually, I am safe, relief!)


A nap

Let’s sleep.
Oh! How can I sleep?
The competition has just begun,
Patchy is at his best today,
Tom is catching up.
How could I have missed this melody?
The barking competition!!
I must just sit still,
and listen to the great musical competition.
Bravo Patchy!
Good barking.
Tommy needs practice.


Dedication

It’s 7.30 in the morning,
I’ve got up at 5.00 to be here on time,
I can hardly sit,
It’s so sleepy.

But they, they are attentive,
as ever,
They attend every lecture.
English, history, physics, politics
You name it,
and they know it.

They come here,
in large numbers,
in any situation,
whether they have the most terrible disease, wound, broken leg, cut, scratch, flees…

These are the real dedicated Kalina Campus loyalists.
the Kalina Campus doggies.

Starved

The aunty with the big hat has come in.
Doggies are chasing her Auto.
Happily, anxiously.
She has brought lots of milk and
glucose biscuit for them.
Does that daily.
Small girls in ragged clothes distribute it.

The street children look upon.

Veterinary cafes

Veterinary cafes


This brewing pot of success,
everything is glittering, growing
This is Mumbai.
There are big roads,
On them are big cars,
And on the sides are big towers,
big malls, big, all big.

And on them,
are veterinary cafes.
big, these are also big,
big in size, big in numbers,
big in customer list,
Crows, cows, dogs, cats and flies
these are their regular visitors.

In a city, where
everything is glittering, growing,
where slums are considered a blot
on the face
and uprooted,
veterinary cafes are flourishing.

Happy eating,
veterinary cafes, a gift
from the city to its
animal citizens.

Coupon punching machine

The absence of functional railway coupon punching machines in Mumbai


Mumbai is an overpopulated metro in a rush. And its railways have the highest passenger density of any urban railway system in the world. Hence it is an extremely tedious and demanding task to travel by these overloaded railways- packed with men as if they were cattle. The battle, however, begins with trying to acquire a ticket to these railways. One has to stand in a never-ending queue or else one might try to end this misery by purchasing railway coupons. But no, this isn’t that easy. First you have to evade through hordes of people (fight with some) and purchase a coupon. Then you go to the coupon punching machine; a sign board either says ‘out of order’, or else in its absence you try getting your coupons punched and realize, like Sisyphus, the futility of your attempts. Having realized that one hunts for the stamps with date and station name on them in frenzy and then finds them – two dirty stamps tied with a dirty rope to an equally dirty ticket window. Well once this date stamp had the wrong date on it. A kind passenger saved the other commuters from the T. C.’s wrath by correcting this date; in the process the man ended up staining his entire hands in blue ink. And this in the financial capital of India! I won’t deign to imagine the condition of places elsewhere in India.


In order to capture this I have written a poem as follows:

The coupon punching machine

The coupon punching machine.
The fat man who’s hardly ever working!
Whenever I go he’s on leave
Due to some ailment;
Last time he was handicapped.
Miserable condition I must say.
Poor thing!
Finally he succumbed
To his illnesses.
Now there are
Two wires dangling
Where he sat lazily,
And two stamps elsewhere
At a ticket window.
May his soul rest in peace.

Cricket Daily Soap !!!

The IPL seems to me to be like any other Ekta Kapoor daily soap.

It is packed with all the masala- catfight, Tulsi's famous slaps (not punches, which are supposedly more "machoistic"), and most importantly TEARS!!!

I wonder who writes the script.

Shawarma...yummy!!!

A tower of meat
Rotating on a vertical skewer.
Flanked by an onion on top
And a tomato beneath
Intermittently are placed chunks of fats.
As it roasts in the furnace hot
Grease and the juices fall in the receptacle
Drop by drop.
The shawarma man shaves off the meat from the tower
Into the receptacle
Full of grease and juices drops.
This mix of meat, fat and juicy drops
He transfers onto a roti hot.
Then on it is poured hummus, tahini and lemon juice.
Followed by pickled vegetables, cardamom and lettuce.
Then come the French fries
And the roll is made.
Heated a bit and served with
Mayonnaise and pomegranate concentrate.