July 09, 2006
Concerts in Contrast
This appears in today's Mumbai Mirror.
Last Sunday, despite my protests, I accompanied my family to a Sonu Nigam concert, a the Shanmukhananda Hall. Honestly, if it wasn’t the fact that the hall is a four-minutes walk from my house, I doubt if I would have gone. Let’s face it; no parking facilities, a screwed up approach road and a concert by a singer whose only song I really know is “Har Ghadi” from “KHNH”…the deal didn’t seem all that great. And with my past experience with “Musical Nights” and “Voice of Mukesh” and “Voice of falana dhikna”, I wasn’t particularly enthusiastic.
And things didn’t get better. It rained heavily during our short walk to the auditorium. Then, the musicians had gotten late, so until they were ready with their instruments, we were made to wait out in the hot and humid foyer…which wasn’t so bad in retrospect, since I got to meet quite a few of my professional colleagues. Then the show started an hour late, because everyone was waiting…as we all do all the time.
Anyway, finally, after some felicitations, a forgettable opening act by an upcoming female singer, but a nice ensemble rendering by his musicians, Mr. Nigam came on stage.
And all I can say is that I am glad I was there.
Mr. Nigam is a consummate entertainer. He has a great voice and is supremely confident of his ability to handle it. He also has a great self-deprecating manner and is not above making fun of himself and last Sunday he used all these abilities to the hilt. He bantered with the audience, kept drawing them in and his words of “wisdom” to the crying infant at the very beginning of the show, made all us warm to him immediately. It was fun seeing an “Indian” singer entertaining the audience, in a manner more reminiscent of rock stars rather than the sedate “Hindi” singers of yore.
Just as Ian Anderson had done in February during the Tull concert. Having grown up with Tull and having missed his previous concerts in Mumbai, I had made sure that I had the time and tickets to be there on the second day, at Shanmukhananda Hall. Again, everything started late, and the opening act by Alms for Shanti was a bit of “pseudo – sopho” patchwork, but once Mr. Anderson was on stage, it was a different story. He held his audience by the palm of his hands. And though he couldn’t really hit the high notes and the music at times felt desultory, it didn’t matter. It was good fun.
I wish I was a classical music aficionado, because then Shanmukhananda Hall would have met my “live performance” needs with ease. Unfortunately, though in my distant “thelawala” past I tried to “understand” classical music, all that ever happened was that I woke up at the end…refreshed and ready to go home.
Hopefully though, we should see the Hall being used for more “popular” entertainment, so that when it rains and the entire city is flooded and you are stuck at home, you can go someplace else apart from Aurora and watch something else than Krrish, though in all fairness, watching Krrish wasn’t a bad use of 2 ½ hours last Monday evening.
Considering though, that even if Shanmukhananda Hall had something, there would have been no way of reaching it, through all that water that always collects around it during the rains.
Posted by bhavinj at 11:00 AM | Comments (0)
August 04, 2005
All About the Rains
After writing about our experiences on Terrible Tuesday, my thoughts turned towards those times when the rains were fun. This was when I was much younger and had the time to appreciate the rains. This piece is out today in the Mumbai Mirror.
For the last few years though, each time it rains, the first thought has always been of the possible extent of disruption that it may cause at work.
In 2000, during a similar deluge day, though of lesser proportions, I had trekked from work at Girgaum to Matunga. That experience was chronicled on the site then and I've brought that piece back into the blog.
Posted by bhavinj at 08:45 AM | Comments (0)
Rain-Soaked Memories
This appears in today's Mumbai Mirror.
It is so ironic that what sustains life can treacherously take it away as well. And yet, amidst all the chaos and misery that has been wrought by the rains over the last week, run memories of fun times as well.
Until I finished my PG, I didn’t move out of the Bosco, Ruia, Sion area. The focal point during each rainy season, was (and still is), the regular water-logging of the Gandhi Market area, which would cut-off King’s Circle and the rest of South and Central Mumbai from Sion and the Eastern suburbs. There were gangs of boys who would line the roads knowing fully well that the “delcos” in the Premier Padminis would eventually get wet, and the cars would stall, and they would be able to make some money pushing the cars through the water to the nearest mechanic. And surprise, surprise…the mechanics would be waiting just beyond the waters!
In school, we were guaranteed at least three holidays each rainy season, becase the school buses would not be able to bring in any of the kids from Sion. Since I stayed just a five minutes walk away, I would anyway walk to school to find out if it was a holiday and then call up my friends staying further away, telling them not to come (provided the phone lines were working, which they weren’t half the times). In today’s day and age, I guess I’d just SMS everyone in my phone-book. Which is actually how we’ve come to know about school closures this week anyway!
The first rains would always make us heady. Whether it was from the tar on the road outside the house or the mud in the school-grounds, the smell of fresh earth permeating the air, was giddily intoxicating. We would either land up playing “gully cricket” or football in the school-grounds, soaking wet, and then land up home for a hot bath and scolding.
And it was de rigeur to get our white socks, shoes and in the later years, our white pants, splattered by the wet mud, before the first morning period and then to swagger into class, like some heroes who had just vanquished Gabbar Singh. The teachers always let the “dirty” look pass during the rains…as long as the home-work was clean.
Memories! Of gingerly finding a route to Sion via Telang road and Bhaudaji road that would prevent my shoes from getting soaked. Of swimming past Shamukhananda Hall to reach my wife who was staying at her mother’s house, near Tamil Sangam, to deliver dry clothes for the next day. Of driving a Honda City through 2 feet of water, just to check whether the company claims of being able to do so were true (they were!).
The dinners of many families in Matunga have a direct connection with a water-logged Gandhi Market. In the morning after heavy rains at night, frantic efforts are made by the womenfolk, to find out from the “doodhwallah bhaiyyas” whether Gandhi Market is flooded or not, and if so, how high the water level is. Which tells them whether the cook and the “bai” from Dharavi and labour camp, etc. will be coming or not. Which decides how the rest of their day will go. Which decides what the family gets served for dinner!
Posted by bhavinj at 04:59 AM | Comments (2)
July 29, 2005
Surviving Terrible Tuesday
This appeared in today's Mumbai Mirror.
My wife was stuck on the top of Parel flyover for 2 hours from around 4.00PM, trying to get to Matunga. Not having moved an inch, she turned around and went to the ITC Grand at Parel for a much-needed loo and coffee break, after some taxi drivers removed the intervening divider stones. While waiting to get back into the car at around 6.30PM (she finally reached home 2 hours later), she saw an out-of-towner who wanted to go to Lifestyle at Phoenix, angrily yelling at his driver for coming late. Bijal tried to tell him that leaving ITC, at that time, was insane, but he refused to listen and drove off with his family. Tourists can be so stupid sometimes!
At midnight, my Dad and I finally decided to drive home to Matunga, from Girgaum. We actually reached the flyover after Phoenix Mills in 7 minutes flat - no traffic, no water-logging, a few stray people and complete “sannata” all along the way. Seeing a flowing river below, we turned back, and then tried Tilak Bridge, but turned back halfway between Siddhi Vinayak and Shivaji Park, then from Portuguese church as well and later from below the Parel flyover, having reached there via the S bridge past Jacob Circle. Having turned back from the Bhoiwada road after Tata Hospital, we finally went onto RAK Road, reached Wadala and parked our car on a free pavement and hoofed it up, reaching home at 2.00AM.
We were the lucky ones. My sister’s husband was stuck between Andheri and Santacruz, alone in his car for over 16 hours. Bijal’s brother reached his home in Andheri, at 2.00AM after having walked 10 kms. My mother-in-law was stuck until Thursday, in Nallasopara, where she had gone for some work, . My 80-years old uncle walked back to Matunga from Masjid.
There was complete chaos when we walked from Wadala to Matunga, but it needed the morning light to truly appreciate the madness. There were vehicles of all kinds, clogging both sides of each and every big or small road in Wadala, Five Gardens and Matunga, along with crowds of people, walking, trying to find a way home. Some were palpably lost - like the guy who thought Khalsa college was Ruparel college and that he was in Matunga West. Most cars hadn’t moved for over 12 hours. People who had hit Don Bosco by 8PM had reached Aurora (200 meters away) by 8AM. There was no food, no water and most cellphone batteries had died down.
Except for the people who helped each other and locals who tried to help those who were stuck, everyone and everything failed us. The weather services, traffic police, the fire-brigade, most cellular networks, the land-lines, the railways, Reliance Energy, the politicians, everyone…
I know one thing about this city of ours. Whenever disaster strikes, we cannot and should not expect any help from our authorities and services. We must assume that we will be on our own and each one of us needs to have some sort of a Plan B in place for such situations. Or pray to God, or whatever…..
PS: Those who have waded through water, please talk to your local GP for doxycycline prophylaxis against leptospirosis.
Posted by bhavinj at 04:56 AM | Comments (0)
August 05, 2000
It Happens Only in Mumbai...Of Deluges, Treks, Leptospirosis and Wet Mobiles
Currently I am about to finish a week's prophylactic course of an antibiotic called doxycycline, for a disease called leptospirosis. This is an infectious disease, spread through rat droppings and typically seen in sewage workers. If not picked up early, it becomes deadly and people die because of multiple organ hemorrhaging.
I am sure you know that I am not a sewage worker. So what does this have to do with me?
Last year I had read about two men who drove for half a day to find the only existing PacBell phone booth in the middle of the Mojave dessert in California. All they wanted to do was to go there and make a call, which they did. Why? Just! Ever since, I have had this "keeda" (Hindi for itch, urge, whatever...) to do something crazy!
On July 12, the day of the big deluge, I was at work, but stuck without a car. Around 4.00PM, when I finally decided to go home, I realized that my only options were to stay back the night in office or to try and catch a taxi through Pedder Road, Worli and Dadar with a walk to Matunga or to walk the whole way from Girgaum to Matunga, a distance of approximately 11 km. I had never experienced the last option before and on an impulse decided to try it out, thinking that there would be no better opportunity to do this again. I left my laptop in my office, put my wallet and Palm V in two plastic bags which I placed between my chest and my shirt, put my mobile in my shirt pocket, rolled up my pants a la Raj Kapoor and set out, armed with an umbrella as my only protection against the rain.
At Lamington Road, I suddenly found myself in hip-deep water. People told me that this state would continue only for another 100-200 meters and so I forged ahead. The 100 meters eventually became 4 km, all the way upto Jacob Circle (Saat Rasta). I thought of turning back, but having already walked a kilometer before realizing what I had gotten into, it didn't make sense to turn back. After half a kilometer, my thighs were aching, my shoes were biting and I was feeling miserable. I was wet from a fall I had at the beginning when I thought it would be a smart idea to walk on the divider in the middle of the road, not realizing that at places the divider stones are often absent. Within minutes of starting the trek, I fell into a gap between two stones, lost my balance, bruised and scraped my legs and fell into the water, wet upto my shirt pocket. I soon became an expert though and realized that the best place to walk was a foot away from the divider.
Around Nair Hospital, I saw two BEST buses successfully plowing their way through the water. During school and junior-college days, I used to be an expert at catching running buses and I tried to do that again. I am out of practice, thirty-five years old and the bus raised a big wave as it came towards me, pushing me backwards. I fell and completely drenched myself.
Frustrated, wanting some sympathy, I tried to call home on my mobile. It was then that I realized that the mobile had been drowning in water for some time and when I tried to turn it on, it obviously didn't work.
I walked on and reached Jacob Circle. From there on, past Arthur Rd Jail, Chinchpokli Bridge, Lalbaug, KEM Hospital, Naigaum and Wadala, things were much better, since the water was at best, a thin film on the road. I tried in vain to get lifts from stray cars passing by; the only one I could manage was a 1km ride in a police jeep from Lalbaug to Naigaum, via KEM Hospital.
Two and a half hours later, wet and dirty with cuts on my legs and forearms, I reached the safe sanctuary of my home...only to find that there was no electricity and the hot bath that I had been dreaming of was to remain just that.
Last week, I heard of a person dying of leptospirosis outside the KEM casualty. The same day, the Times of India reported that there might be an epidemic of leptospirosis, linking it to the July 12 deluge by tracking the incubation period of the germ backwards. According to experts, on that day, sewage water had mixed with rain-water in all the flooded areas and prolonged contact of wounds, cuts and bruises with this kind of water is known to give rise to this infection. Within an hour, I felt feverish and I immediately called a physician friend who laughed at me, but then anyway advised me to start a course of doxycycline to be on the safe side. I am fine at present and probably past the incubation period...but let's touch wood anyway!
Just to end this on a happy note. I had presumed that my mobile was a gonner, despite having opened it up completely on a friend's advice and dried it using a hair-dryer. I finally gave it for repairs...and guess what...I actually got it back in working condition, in two days. Last week, it conked off again and when I again gave it for repairs, they changed the battery and ever since it has been working fine. My Palm V and credit cards had remained dry anyway, thanks to the double plastic covering.
So, at the end of it all...no leptospirosis, a working mobile and an adventure to write about. Not bad, huh!
Posted by bhavinj at 04:48 AM | Comments (1)
