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July 25, 2009
Mumbai Undarshan
Umberto Eco, the famous author of many books, including "The Name of the Rose" has a huge library of about 30,000 books, most of which he has obviously not read. Nassim Taleb, the author of "The Black Swan" interprets this in a very interesting way, saying that "read books are far less valuable than unread ones" and that "the library should contain as much of what you do not know (as you know)". He calls this the antilibrary.
As I was turning this thought around in my mind, I realized that this concept could also be applied to "seen and unseen" places. I then started thinking of all the streets and monuments that I have not yet been to or visited in the last 40 years, but will eventually get to in the next few decades as and when the opportunity arises. The very fact that these "unseen" areas exist, makes the city that much more interesting and appealing.
1. Haji Ali Mosque
It's there, sitting in the middle of the sea. I see it each time I pass the causeway and yet there has just not been an occasion to go there. Eventually one day when someone invites me to come with him/her, I guess this "darshan" will get taken care off.
2. Banganga
There was a picture just two days ago in one of the newspapers, showing women taking a bath in Banganga, after the eclipse. The Banganga Music Festival is famous as well, but that also hasn't been a big enough draw, I guess. It's such a short drive away from work that I guess I'll eventually get there, one day.
3. Matharpakady
I had read about this place many years ago; an area in Mazgaon resembling an old Portuguese village with cobble-stone roads and interesting houses. I don't even know if it still exists, but the knowledge there may be a street like this still around, makes the thought of going into Mazgaon one of these days, quite appealing.
4. Girgaum "wadis"
Many of these are quite famous for a variety of reasons, including the Ganpatis, but I guess I haven't been to any, simply because they are all located less than a kilometer away from my workplace and I keep telling myself that I can go there any time that I want.
5. Bandra-Worli Sea Link
This is the latest entrant. Everyone I know has been over it but funnily, I just can't seem to find the inclination to want to do so, perhaps because I know that sometime in the near future when I need to visit Bandra and then go to Worli, I will land up using it.
I asked my FB friends as well and they came up with many more suggestions, all of which I haven't been to yet, but will probably land up getting to sometime in the future, or perhaps never;
6. Film City and something called Chhota Kashmir
7. Mahim Nature Park
8. Mumbadevi Temple
9. Shivdi (Sewri) Fort
10. BHNHS Conservation Education Centre
11. Mahakali Caves (are the caves still there?)
Now that this list is made, it's actually quite comforting to have all these "unseen" places around. Considering that as a die-hard Mumbaiite with 40 years in this city already under the belt and with a few more still left to get through, visiting or thinking of visiting these 'unseen" places is one of the few things in this city that I can actually look forward to.
Posted by bhavinj at 07:52 AM | Comments (0)
July 18, 2009
Mud-Splattered Nirvana
Our relationship with the rains is completely schizoid. While we want it to rain, so that there is enough water throughout the year, we get really stressed and irritated when it rains on our way to work or when we are traveling to keep an appointment, or basically at anytime during the workweek. And yet it was not always like this.
One of the simple pleasures we had, when we were kids, was playing football in the rains. My school has the largest playground in Mumbai and there was ample opportunity to play virtually any game before or after school hours.
During the rains, the football grounds would get so soggy and soft that each time our feet hit the brown mud, wet clumps would fly and stick to our shoes, socks, legs and eventually, shorts and shirt. By the time we were done with our play, we would be completely mud-soaked, some of us even sporting brown hair, especially if we had fallen down at any time. We would then proudly trudge home, wait outside the door, remove our socks, shoes and shirt and only then be allowed to cross the threshold while gingerly holding in one hand, our dirty shoes, which would promptly go into a bucket in the bathroom, where both the shoes and our bodies would get a good dunking. Most of us would have been ideal candidates for Surf Excel or Rin ads.
Once we were done with school, playing football in the mud pretty much stopped. And as we grew up and made our way through college and then started working, the rains went from being fun to being irritating, something to avoid rather than to revel in.
Until three days ago.
I was running in school, in the evening, in an attempt to stay fit. It had been raining a bit in the morning, but the skies were clear when I started. A few minutes into the run however, dark clouds suddenly gathered over the ground, and a few raindrops started falling.
I continued to run, as did many others.
And then the heavens opened up and the clouds burst and the rain pelted down fast and furious. Within no time I was completely drenched. My spectacle lenses were swimming in large pools of water and I could barely see a couple of feet ahead. Luckily I know my running route inside out and so I focused on my stride, trying to make sure that I wouldn't fall, especially over the thin film of slippery water that often covers concrete surfaces.
Part of my route is along the edge of the football grounds. The moment I stepped on the mud, my shoes went splutch and squelch, splutch and squelch, with mud flying in all directions, cloaking my Nike Airs, splattering my socks and sticking to the back of my legs. I am now much taller than I was as a school-kid and luckily the rest of my upper body was spared.
Soon though, the shoes became wet and heavy and I could feel my socks turn pulpy. My T-shirt seemed to have gained a couple of kilos and was sticking to my ungainly chest. My hair was a fountainhead. The rain refused to relent and after a while, it just became too difficult to fight the pouring sheets of water and the accompanying wind and I finally stopped.
I walked home in the rain, on top of the world, without an umbrella or raincoat, devoid of any care in those brief moments.
Bliss!
Posted by bhavinj at 11:58 AM | Comments (0)
July 11, 2009
Lunch - The Most Important Period in School
"Breakfast like a king, lunch like a prince and dinner like a pauper", is a popular saying in the Western World. In India, it should read, "breakfast like a prince, lunch like an emperor and dinner like a king".
Our obsession with lunch manifests itself in many ways, one being the Six-Sigma acknowledged "dabba" system, which delivers tiffin-boxes across the length and breadth of Mumbai, along with a large number of private carriers and peons who carry warmer "dabbas" for those who don't want their food cold.
Our "emperor" lunches have many consequences, the most important perhaps being the significant diversion of blood from our brains to our stomachs, which in turn induces an almost instantaneous post-prandial, soporific state, the effect of which becomes quite evident in the general slow-down in most of our work-places in the afternoons. The worst hit is usually the first post-lunch speaker during a conference, who keeps wondering why he is lecturing a bunch of drooping heads and closed eyelids.
This "lunch" obsession of ours also finds an echo in our schools, with many parents falling over themselves to prepare the most elaborate of meals for their children. Some of these parents also land up in school to hand-feed their wards, a few even laying down mats and cutlery, "picnic" style.
Last week, at a PTA meeting in one of Matunga's premier schools, the new Principal laid down the law in no uncertain terms, showing off a strictness that may not be out of place when dealing with Matunga/Sion/Wadala parents. Among other issues, he discussed the lunch hour and said that the school henceforth would not allow parents and guardians unlimited and free access to their children and that they would have to stay in a specific, enclosed area from where the kids could come and pick up their dabbas, lunches, etc.
The moment the floor opened for questions and the first couple of comments related to learning disabilities and "authentic" and "non-authentic" doctors were swept out of the way, the discussion became completely focused on the "lunch" issue, each questioning and commenting parent claiming to represent many others, in the hope of adding more validity to his/her comments and views.
The unifying thread was that parents had to be allowed to feed their children. Some needed to do this so that their children could be given necessary medicines, which apparently only they and no one else could administer. Some others wanted to be around to make sure that their precious offspring were not injured during the remainder of the lunch hour while playing; one parent apparently had been recently bit by a ball while standing on the sidelines and wanted the kids' play to be better supervised, not understanding that this was just the kind of excuse the school needed to restrict parental encroachment.
The best comment, which was immediately endorsed by another parent, came towards the end. "Why don't we change the timings so that school starts one hour earlier, and ends by 2.30PM, so that all the kids can come home for lunch and then rest and sleep? This way everyone is happy." I guess this is one more way to train our kids to believe that the end of a working day should be a large, sumptuous lunch.
As we were all leaving, I overhead a parent, who like me must have found the proceedings quite "interesting". "I guess, school for many is just another 'lunch' place, with incidental teaching periods before and after". That made my day!
Posted by bhavinj at 11:40 AM | Comments (0)
July 04, 2009
When the Music (Didn't) Die
I cried the day Lennon was shot and then spent the next two days playing all the Beatles albums I had, as loudly as possible.
I almost blew out my speakers and fired the amp playing all the Queen I had, when Freddie Mercury died.
I will take a day's holiday when Knoffler or Springsteen or Billy Joel cross over.
I was working and continued to work when I heard of Michael Jackson's death.
I just don't get it! I mean, I get the fact that MJ is an iconic figure and has created waves, good or bad, throughout his career and therefore would be expected to dominate the news in the event of his death. What I don't understand is the hype and hoopla over his music. I know I will be quartered for this blasphemy, but I am confident that I am not alone; that there are others like me out there (apart from Krishnan and Ramnath, of course!).
In the early 80s, I was already hooked into the whole Floyd, Zep, Tull, Sabbath scene. The Beatles were numero uno. For pop, it was ABBA. Also up there were S & G and CSNY. Bee Gees were somewhere in the middle, with Wham, etc at the periphery. Dylan and Clapton were icons (Dylan of course, still is). And amongst all these greats, MJ and his music just didn't figure anywhere in our scheme of "music" things.
In fact, his name and music first wafted into my consciousness only because my parents had brought back a Sony CD player from a trip to Japan and the only CDs that a friend from the US was able to get, were "Thriller" and some Billy Ocean rubbish. This was around 1982-83 and if I wanted to show off the sound quality of the CD player, I had no choice but to play some numbers from the "Thriller" CD. To be fair, "Billie Jean" was not bad and I can remember "Beat It" as well, but that's as far as MJ's music goes for me; I am pretty sure that this is my loss and no one else's!
The other reason we talked about MJ in those days, for some time, was when we saw his music videos of some of the "Thriller" numbers. There was no question that he was an outstanding dancer and like everyone else, we tried to moonwalk for a while. But even then, he never did match up to our all-time dance idol, John Travolta, whose pelvic thrusts in Saturday Night Fever had us staying up long evenings, trying to get those moves just right. After that, the only other video I found interesting was the one he did with Naomi Campbell, in which she looked sexier, but he looked prettier.
Then the last time I really listened to any of his music, was during the "great" concert in Mumbai, though "listen" is probably a euphemism, given the terrible acoustics at the back of the stadium. What I do remember most from those days though is the toilet that didn't get flushed for a few days, after he peed in it, in the house of one of Mumbai's famous politicians.
I take no pride in kicking the dead. And yet, I am amazed at the extent of the emotional outpouring that has occurred over the last week. The only logical explanation for my remaining untouched by all of this must be that that I am totally and fully, musically and emotionally challenged.
Posted by bhavinj at 04:15 AM | Comments (0)
