People think she is insane. But, I am sure life has done this to her. I always see her on the foot over-bridge leading to the harbour line platform at Kurla. I think she frequents the harbour line platform, and must not be going anywhere else. Because, whenever I am traveling to office or visiting friends in Chembur, I bump into her. But, I have never seen her late evenings when I return from office. Or perhaps, I did not really bother to consciously check out her presence at that time of the hour.
She is always staring at the pandemonium of the crowd rushing to office. At times, I have seen her talking endlessly to someone in the crowd who is impatiently waiting for the delayed train. And whose mind is grappled with this thought that whether he will make it into the train or not. Nevertheless, she keeps speaking unmindful of the ignorance. But, there is a certain amount of affection in her tone, which one would find in a mother’s towards her sibling. But, often she is just complaining. She is always trying to justify her stand on somebody’s wrong doing. Unfortunately, no body understands.
This morning was a little different from other mornings. She was not there on the over-bridge when I entered the station. But after sometime I could hear loud scolding sounds. After listening to the voice a little attentively, I realized that it was the same old woman. Today, she was pretty vociferous and animated in her rants. For a change everyone was looking in her direction and hearing her scream. But, the unfortunate part again was that -nobody was listening. That includes me too.
As I waited for the train to arrive, I began to think about the reason that must have forced this old lady to such a state. Perhaps, her children must have disowned her when she needed them the most. She must have undergone so many hardships and made equally unimaginable sacrifices to make their life better. I began to feel miserable with the mere thought of how painful she must have felt to be disowned by your children who are an extension of your own flesh and blood. You made your life nonexistent to give them their existence, and suddenly you just don’t exist for them. There cannot be a greater pain than the pain of rejection from someone who means the world to you.
Then again my mind raced in a different direction as I began to hear her dialect. She was speaking in a language that sounded pretty close to Bhojpuri or some other language similar to something spoken by the natives of UP or Bihar. That’s when I began to think again. Could it so happen that she must have lost her family to some villainous atrocity? Or was it some family feud? The questions started to pour and the answers were no where near.
For a moment I felt I should just walk across and strike a conversation with her. But then, something insane within held me back. My heart cringed with this thought that her story would remain unsaid and unheard. It will be lost forever.
My thoughts were racing in all directions and were growing overwhelming. I could not suppress them longer. Thankfully, just then I saw my train arrive. So I bundled my thoughts and boarded it. I could still her tirades. They grew faint as the train began to move ahead. Very much like her memories must have become in the minds of her near ones.
Monday, May 11, 2009
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Just do it.
There are many things that cross my mind when I am travelling or walking. Often a very good thought brushes my mind as I am crossing the road, or struggling to retain an inch of foot space in a crowded train. Unfortunately, I don’t get the time and resource to scribble it down or give it some tangible form. Then, when I sit down to recollect it and write it down: PHUT!!! The idea is lost forever.
It’s unfortunate, but it’s true. But that’s how painful and disappointing writing can get at times. No wonder, some of the prominent writers have called the process of writing as painful as a labour pain; and creating a piece of work an act equivalent of giving birth. You have no control of what will come out. You have no option, but to wait patiently until some miraculous force takes pity on you and the words begin to flow. The wait could at times last for eternity or just happen in a zephyr.
In times when you are feeling spontaneous or when you begin to believe that you have become brain dead, the only antidote you have at hand is –keep writing. Don’t think if it makes sense or sounds idiotic. Just keep doing it. After a while, I am sure, the words will begin to make sense -very much like how this piece of work has shaped up.
It’s unfortunate, but it’s true. But that’s how painful and disappointing writing can get at times. No wonder, some of the prominent writers have called the process of writing as painful as a labour pain; and creating a piece of work an act equivalent of giving birth. You have no control of what will come out. You have no option, but to wait patiently until some miraculous force takes pity on you and the words begin to flow. The wait could at times last for eternity or just happen in a zephyr.
In times when you are feeling spontaneous or when you begin to believe that you have become brain dead, the only antidote you have at hand is –keep writing. Don’t think if it makes sense or sounds idiotic. Just keep doing it. After a while, I am sure, the words will begin to make sense -very much like how this piece of work has shaped up.
Friday, March 27, 2009
Down the Memory Lane
Human body is a marvel. What is even more amazing is the ability of the brain to bring back memories. In fact, “memory” in itself is no less than a miracle.
I managed to scribble into my journal yesterday after a very long hiatus. I had decided to write something in it everyday. It could be something as trivial as eating a banana. But, I am going to write about it. Why I am mentioning this here is to arrive at the point as to why I have begun this piece describing the marvel of the human body.
The moment I sat to write there was a deluge of thoughts which I had saved to write about ‘later’ and which did not happen. I did not manage to write about them this morning as I was very sleepy. If you are still wondering what I mean, I would like to clarify that it was around 12:30am when I put pen to paper ‘this morning’.
As I sat to write, I immediately turned back time and traveled some Sundays back and reached the temple at Andheri. I was visiting it with my parents and was waiting for our cousins to arrive. Being a Sunday and an auspicious day (I say auspicious because there were a lot of people and pujas happening at the different corners) there were a lot more people than you often find on a lazy Sunday morning. We were sitting on the marble seating provided within the premises. Just then a very old man walked towards us. His age was wavering in this gait. He was trying to find a place to sit. I desperately wanted to help him find a seat, but unfortunately we were standing. Just then a gentleman got up and offered him a seat which he happily accepted. As he sat, he glanced towards me. I was staring at him completely lost. There was something about his face that grasped my attention and held my gaze. It was an aura that only old age could gift you. The moment he saw me he lifted his hands, brought them together and gestured a “Namaste.” I smile at him and raised my hands to reciprocate, but immediately returned to my senses and stopped them halfway while checking out if someone was watching me. I must confess that I felt embarrassed to reciprocate with a namaste.
Namaste is an Indian way of greeting people. In the humbleness of the gesture lies its beauty. It is something every other person on the surface of this earth takes pride in doing except we Indians. The incident signaled the pace at which we are loosing our rich cultural and traditional wealth. We some how seem to have developed a case of myopia and cannot see the true worth our values and beliefs -sad, but true.
The other incident that had me really shattered me from right within is what happened one night while traveling to meet a friend for dinner. I was supposed to meet a friend for dinner. We generally meet-up after office and discuss about work, challenges, people and a book I am planning to work on.
I boarded the train, and a couple of stations later three urchins boarded my compartment. First one was the eldest of the lot, not more than seven to eight years, who was carrying a tiny infant in her arms. Probably, her younger sister? Following her was a tiny, frail boy was also younger to her. He must be her brother. The eldest girl ordered him to beg for coins before the passengers, while she moved ahead to the other section of the compartment.
That boy had caught my attention because of his frail & tiny frame and the innocence in his eyes. I was watching him approach every passenger and get turned down with, either, a rude gesture, an indignant look or an oblivion expression.
After almost being refused by everyone, he reached my seat and bent down near my feet. I must admit that, I too was not inclined to pay him anything. His innocence till that time had just knocked the doors of my heart, but could not force me to open the door. I watched him as he lay there head down near my feet. Sometime passed, but he did not raise his head. The long pause was beginning to get a little discomforting. As he lay there, I could see a one rupee coin peep out of his clenched fist and look towards me with a naughty sparkle. As I watched him, a thought crossed my mind that, this evening I would spend over half a grand over booze and food -quite some amount that could save him quite some trouble of spreading his hands. I began to feel lucky and silently thank the almighty.
Gradually, the very thought of eating out began to feel repulsive as I stared at his delicate and soiled frame. Any extra luxury looked sinful. Everything good about my life seemed impious. I began to descend in the tunnel of sin; I was awakened by a loud, screeching voice. As I returned back I realized it was the elder sister calling out to this boy. He got up rubbing his sleepy eyes. He had fallen asleep as he lay there waiting for the doors of my heart to open. Unfortunately it didn’t.
I alighted at the next station, and began walking towards my destination discarding all the heavy baggages of guilt my conscience had just packed some time ago. Life just went on as it always does.
The only things that remained from those two days are their memories that stayed back and haunt me when I revisit them. They still set me thinking afresh, and take me to another world where there are only questions and very few answers, or rather no answers at all.
I managed to scribble into my journal yesterday after a very long hiatus. I had decided to write something in it everyday. It could be something as trivial as eating a banana. But, I am going to write about it. Why I am mentioning this here is to arrive at the point as to why I have begun this piece describing the marvel of the human body.
The moment I sat to write there was a deluge of thoughts which I had saved to write about ‘later’ and which did not happen. I did not manage to write about them this morning as I was very sleepy. If you are still wondering what I mean, I would like to clarify that it was around 12:30am when I put pen to paper ‘this morning’.
As I sat to write, I immediately turned back time and traveled some Sundays back and reached the temple at Andheri. I was visiting it with my parents and was waiting for our cousins to arrive. Being a Sunday and an auspicious day (I say auspicious because there were a lot of people and pujas happening at the different corners) there were a lot more people than you often find on a lazy Sunday morning. We were sitting on the marble seating provided within the premises. Just then a very old man walked towards us. His age was wavering in this gait. He was trying to find a place to sit. I desperately wanted to help him find a seat, but unfortunately we were standing. Just then a gentleman got up and offered him a seat which he happily accepted. As he sat, he glanced towards me. I was staring at him completely lost. There was something about his face that grasped my attention and held my gaze. It was an aura that only old age could gift you. The moment he saw me he lifted his hands, brought them together and gestured a “Namaste.” I smile at him and raised my hands to reciprocate, but immediately returned to my senses and stopped them halfway while checking out if someone was watching me. I must confess that I felt embarrassed to reciprocate with a namaste.
Namaste is an Indian way of greeting people. In the humbleness of the gesture lies its beauty. It is something every other person on the surface of this earth takes pride in doing except we Indians. The incident signaled the pace at which we are loosing our rich cultural and traditional wealth. We some how seem to have developed a case of myopia and cannot see the true worth our values and beliefs -sad, but true.
The other incident that had me really shattered me from right within is what happened one night while traveling to meet a friend for dinner. I was supposed to meet a friend for dinner. We generally meet-up after office and discuss about work, challenges, people and a book I am planning to work on.
I boarded the train, and a couple of stations later three urchins boarded my compartment. First one was the eldest of the lot, not more than seven to eight years, who was carrying a tiny infant in her arms. Probably, her younger sister? Following her was a tiny, frail boy was also younger to her. He must be her brother. The eldest girl ordered him to beg for coins before the passengers, while she moved ahead to the other section of the compartment.
That boy had caught my attention because of his frail & tiny frame and the innocence in his eyes. I was watching him approach every passenger and get turned down with, either, a rude gesture, an indignant look or an oblivion expression.
After almost being refused by everyone, he reached my seat and bent down near my feet. I must admit that, I too was not inclined to pay him anything. His innocence till that time had just knocked the doors of my heart, but could not force me to open the door. I watched him as he lay there head down near my feet. Sometime passed, but he did not raise his head. The long pause was beginning to get a little discomforting. As he lay there, I could see a one rupee coin peep out of his clenched fist and look towards me with a naughty sparkle. As I watched him, a thought crossed my mind that, this evening I would spend over half a grand over booze and food -quite some amount that could save him quite some trouble of spreading his hands. I began to feel lucky and silently thank the almighty.
Gradually, the very thought of eating out began to feel repulsive as I stared at his delicate and soiled frame. Any extra luxury looked sinful. Everything good about my life seemed impious. I began to descend in the tunnel of sin; I was awakened by a loud, screeching voice. As I returned back I realized it was the elder sister calling out to this boy. He got up rubbing his sleepy eyes. He had fallen asleep as he lay there waiting for the doors of my heart to open. Unfortunately it didn’t.
I alighted at the next station, and began walking towards my destination discarding all the heavy baggages of guilt my conscience had just packed some time ago. Life just went on as it always does.
The only things that remained from those two days are their memories that stayed back and haunt me when I revisit them. They still set me thinking afresh, and take me to another world where there are only questions and very few answers, or rather no answers at all.
Monday, January 12, 2009
One for the New Year
I was just reading the various posts on my blog, and I realized that I haven’t made any postings in the New Year. I did have a lot to write about, but somehow managed to ignore them. I will write about them. When? God Knows.
For today, it’s just some random thoughts. I haven’t made much progress with my writings lately. Not that I regularly write, and I am applauded for the same. What I mean is that I haven’t been able to stick to my routine of writing something everyday. I did have a friend’s Laptop in my house, but nothing seemed to happen. I just got bored with the laptop. I feel I am more comfortable the desktop.
Work has been a little hectic in the last two weeks. We had an exhibition and, we all were all pushing ourselves way beyond our limits to add the final touches. But, the whole experience was fun and satisfying.
I have written a small story, which I want to upload here. I am still not sure with the title. I am toying with different options. Let’s see what best comes out of the creative hibernation that I have gone into.
For today, it’s just some random thoughts. I haven’t made much progress with my writings lately. Not that I regularly write, and I am applauded for the same. What I mean is that I haven’t been able to stick to my routine of writing something everyday. I did have a friend’s Laptop in my house, but nothing seemed to happen. I just got bored with the laptop. I feel I am more comfortable the desktop.
Work has been a little hectic in the last two weeks. We had an exhibition and, we all were all pushing ourselves way beyond our limits to add the final touches. But, the whole experience was fun and satisfying.
I have written a small story, which I want to upload here. I am still not sure with the title. I am toying with different options. Let’s see what best comes out of the creative hibernation that I have gone into.
Sunday, December 28, 2008
My Review on ‘GHAJINI’
I saw Ghajini last evening. I loved the movie unlike what some of the critics wrote. The movie is ‘a commercial movie’ and has no moral take away. But, the entire film is gripping. The direction is brilliant. In fact, each and every person involved in the making of this movie deserves a great applaud.
What appealed to me the most about the film is the continuity. The establishing shot too smoothly transitions from the neurons inside the brain to zoom out into an X-ray of the brain in the psychiatrist’s X-ray monitor where he is discussing Aamir Khan’s case with his students.
The other two instances which I can clearly recollect is when Aamir meets Kalpana (Asin) for the first time, and the other one is when he proposes to her and is awaiting her answer.
The other touching shot which I have not been able to get over is where Asin is brutally murdered before Aamir Khan’s eyes. The way the shot has been executed, simply touches you. I do not want to reveal it to take away the credit. Besides I feel, you should see it to feel it.
The director has been successful is engaging the audience with this mastery. You can actually hear the audience sighing at the misfortune of Asin before she is killed by the goons. And the second time is an exhilarated cry of victory when Aamir kills Ghajini the way he (Ghajini) killed Asin.
The subject has been convincingly handled. There are loose ends in every movie, and this movie is no exception. One must overlook them and see the effort. Aamir Khan is his usual best, and Asin too has done a good job. The movie is undoubtedly a masala movie, but is surely worth the hype and a watch.
What appealed to me the most about the film is the continuity. The establishing shot too smoothly transitions from the neurons inside the brain to zoom out into an X-ray of the brain in the psychiatrist’s X-ray monitor where he is discussing Aamir Khan’s case with his students.
The other two instances which I can clearly recollect is when Aamir meets Kalpana (Asin) for the first time, and the other one is when he proposes to her and is awaiting her answer.
The other touching shot which I have not been able to get over is where Asin is brutally murdered before Aamir Khan’s eyes. The way the shot has been executed, simply touches you. I do not want to reveal it to take away the credit. Besides I feel, you should see it to feel it.
The director has been successful is engaging the audience with this mastery. You can actually hear the audience sighing at the misfortune of Asin before she is killed by the goons. And the second time is an exhilarated cry of victory when Aamir kills Ghajini the way he (Ghajini) killed Asin.
The subject has been convincingly handled. There are loose ends in every movie, and this movie is no exception. One must overlook them and see the effort. Aamir Khan is his usual best, and Asin too has done a good job. The movie is undoubtedly a masala movie, but is surely worth the hype and a watch.
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
Some Random Thoughts
I saw Mr and Mrs Porter the other day. They have shifted their haven. Now-a-days they sit near the pile of scrap iron between platform number 8 and 9&10 of the Harbour line. I noticed that they do not have their new born child with them any more. I only find their elder daughter tugging along with her mother. The scene flushes innumerable assumptions into my mind. But today, I don’t want to think about them.
Today we had Christmas celebrations in our office. They distributed a lovely piece of plum cake (at least that’s what I believe. It could be something else. It looked, and somewhat, tasted like one.) That’s all; nothing else. I believe the cost cutting has crept into Christmas celebrations. This Diwali too was pretty sublime. I could find some lights glittering in the shanties and in the pics of celebrities flashed across various magazine and news supplements. It looked as if there was no “deepavali” for the middle class.
Traveling in a local train is an experience in itself. Traveling by a Mumbai local train is an even greater experience. Every morning thousands of individuals: young and old, rich and poor, Hindu & Muslim…in fact every permutation and combination you can possibly think about travel in a state where they are crammed-up like chickens moving for culling. At times you end up traveling in physical positions that even Baba Ramdev must have never dreamt of, or even mustered the courage to try. But life moves on. You travel cheek to cheek with a complete stranger for over an hour, and don’t fret about it. Perhaps, this is where we Mumbaikars receive all our patience from.
Everyone I meet now days has a common question, “When are you getting married?” I fear that if I do not get married in the next few months, it might become a National Issue. Or even worse, a breaking news on a local news channel. Every one seems to be very keen to see me married: friends, relatives, colleagues, and some new acquaintances as well. But then, what do you do when you either don’t find the right girl, or if you do manage to find one; she cannot marry you?
Tomorrow is Christmas. The mood will start building from today. I plan to visit Bandstand tomorrow. Just to get a feel of the Christmas spirit. The trip is not confirmed. I did share it with ‘SY’ and he needs time to think over it. Let’s hope he finds the time. It will be a good change, for a change.
Merry Christmas.
Today we had Christmas celebrations in our office. They distributed a lovely piece of plum cake (at least that’s what I believe. It could be something else. It looked, and somewhat, tasted like one.) That’s all; nothing else. I believe the cost cutting has crept into Christmas celebrations. This Diwali too was pretty sublime. I could find some lights glittering in the shanties and in the pics of celebrities flashed across various magazine and news supplements. It looked as if there was no “deepavali” for the middle class.
Traveling in a local train is an experience in itself. Traveling by a Mumbai local train is an even greater experience. Every morning thousands of individuals: young and old, rich and poor, Hindu & Muslim…in fact every permutation and combination you can possibly think about travel in a state where they are crammed-up like chickens moving for culling. At times you end up traveling in physical positions that even Baba Ramdev must have never dreamt of, or even mustered the courage to try. But life moves on. You travel cheek to cheek with a complete stranger for over an hour, and don’t fret about it. Perhaps, this is where we Mumbaikars receive all our patience from.
Everyone I meet now days has a common question, “When are you getting married?” I fear that if I do not get married in the next few months, it might become a National Issue. Or even worse, a breaking news on a local news channel. Every one seems to be very keen to see me married: friends, relatives, colleagues, and some new acquaintances as well. But then, what do you do when you either don’t find the right girl, or if you do manage to find one; she cannot marry you?
Tomorrow is Christmas. The mood will start building from today. I plan to visit Bandstand tomorrow. Just to get a feel of the Christmas spirit. The trip is not confirmed. I did share it with ‘SY’ and he needs time to think over it. Let’s hope he finds the time. It will be a good change, for a change.
Merry Christmas.
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
….AND I CALL MYSELF A GOOD HUMAN BEING
Last evening was a new chapter in self introspection. I have had such bouts of introspections earlier. But,
I have never written about it. After listening to the whole incidence some of you may write it off as a trivial issue that I am getting little extra sentimental about. Nevertheless, sentimental or not sentimental, I am writing about it.
I had wrapped up my day very early yesterday. Well, very early for me but normal time for those punctual office leavers. I had finished my work and was feeling pretty exhausted mentally. Just then one of my colleagues walked up to my table and asked me if I was leaving. Initially, I was a little hesitant or rather a little uncomfortable to leave this early. But then, in a spur I shut my computer and walked out. It really felt refreshing to walk out of the office this early. As we climbed the station the train to CST had reached the station. I decided to take the other train that starts from Vashi, so my colleague wished me bye and dashed to catch the train.
I was thinking If I should get down at Chembur and catch up with a friend. Or maybe get down at Tilak Nagar (TN) and just walk home enjoying the evening. While I was working out these plans I realized the train had left Chembur station. I thought I should get down at Tilak Nagar and walk my way home. But this time the train reached TN station, but I was feeling a little lazy so I decided to alight at Kurla. The train was a little crowded, but I got to alight comfortably. I was moving with the crowd when I realized that the crowd was suddenly parting into two. As I reached near that spot I saw a old lady lying on the platform and looking helplessly at the people passing by. She was looking up and murmuring something that wasn’t louder than a whisper. Her expressions showed she needed physical assistance. Everybody was passing her as if she did not exist: I can still feel that unbearable squeeze in my heart when I recollect that scene. I wanted to help her. Something within me was screaming GO HELP HER. I don’t know why but I disobeyed that voice within and walked away with a stony feel along with the wave of the crowd. I desperately wanted to help her, but
I could not figure out what was stopping me. I was feeling like somebody has placed a stone on my heart and I was making no efforts to relieve myself off the burden even though I could and badly wanted to.
While I was battling these tumultuous emotions and by the time I could come up with a concrete decision
I already reached the top of the over bridge. Just then, another train arrived and then there was a deluge of heartless passengers aimlessly dispersed all over the station and on the over bridge. I just kept walking ahead frustrated that I did not reach out to help that needy old woman. What disturbed me the most was despite having the urge to reach out and help that needy old woman I lacked the courage to convert my thoughts into action. I reached home but I could not get over the incidence the whole evening and I kept asking myself ….Can I really call myself a good human being?
I have never written about it. After listening to the whole incidence some of you may write it off as a trivial issue that I am getting little extra sentimental about. Nevertheless, sentimental or not sentimental, I am writing about it.
I had wrapped up my day very early yesterday. Well, very early for me but normal time for those punctual office leavers. I had finished my work and was feeling pretty exhausted mentally. Just then one of my colleagues walked up to my table and asked me if I was leaving. Initially, I was a little hesitant or rather a little uncomfortable to leave this early. But then, in a spur I shut my computer and walked out. It really felt refreshing to walk out of the office this early. As we climbed the station the train to CST had reached the station. I decided to take the other train that starts from Vashi, so my colleague wished me bye and dashed to catch the train.
I was thinking If I should get down at Chembur and catch up with a friend. Or maybe get down at Tilak Nagar (TN) and just walk home enjoying the evening. While I was working out these plans I realized the train had left Chembur station. I thought I should get down at Tilak Nagar and walk my way home. But this time the train reached TN station, but I was feeling a little lazy so I decided to alight at Kurla. The train was a little crowded, but I got to alight comfortably. I was moving with the crowd when I realized that the crowd was suddenly parting into two. As I reached near that spot I saw a old lady lying on the platform and looking helplessly at the people passing by. She was looking up and murmuring something that wasn’t louder than a whisper. Her expressions showed she needed physical assistance. Everybody was passing her as if she did not exist: I can still feel that unbearable squeeze in my heart when I recollect that scene. I wanted to help her. Something within me was screaming GO HELP HER. I don’t know why but I disobeyed that voice within and walked away with a stony feel along with the wave of the crowd. I desperately wanted to help her, but
I could not figure out what was stopping me. I was feeling like somebody has placed a stone on my heart and I was making no efforts to relieve myself off the burden even though I could and badly wanted to.
While I was battling these tumultuous emotions and by the time I could come up with a concrete decision
I already reached the top of the over bridge. Just then, another train arrived and then there was a deluge of heartless passengers aimlessly dispersed all over the station and on the over bridge. I just kept walking ahead frustrated that I did not reach out to help that needy old woman. What disturbed me the most was despite having the urge to reach out and help that needy old woman I lacked the courage to convert my thoughts into action. I reached home but I could not get over the incidence the whole evening and I kept asking myself ….Can I really call myself a good human being?
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