His master's company

Would it be incorrect to state that dogs are the best people around? Well, no. They are what they are whether they are tamed or stray. And going by the one i recently spotted outside Sanpada railway station, it only reinforces my belief that the four-legged cuties are a kind to reckon with. This particular handsome dog apparently was a puppy who decided to “settle down” with a—not quite legal, if you may—vegetable vendor on the footpath. As of today, the fully grown canine in question keeps guard throughout the day while his master sells his greens. One heck of a partnership!

For goal models

With the ongoing World Cup in place, football is pretty much part of all random conversations. And what better place can there be than your local barber shop to eavesdrop on unsuspecting fellow customers? What's entertaining though is the rise in interest about the game. One middle-aged gentleman was overheard worrying about the delay in monsoon but not for agricultural purposes. “Agar baarish nahi hui toh bacche football nahi khelenge. Agar khelenge nahi toh hum bas World Cup dekhte hi reh jaayenge—kabhi jeetenge nahi.”

I, me and old self

Every muscle in my body is sick of this sedentary lifestyle that i'm presently leading. I can almost hear myself fatten. I used to be very lean, quite fast and energetic. No, not like Cristiano Ronaldo. I had my reservations about turning into a machine. But then, he hasn't chased a local train—let alone struggled his way into one—so there's no way he'd know how inhumanly unfair life can be. Silly analogies apart, i'm getting old the way i thought i never will. In my head, i was supposed to travel, meet new people, learn something unforgettable on my journey and never ever settle down. Not that i'm settling down anytime soon but still. Turns out i didn't turn out the way i pictured myself at the turn of the century. I used to be 14 once and I remember running around a lot. I didn't mind the sun or the heat or the humidity. As a backup, i just wanted to complete SSC and get myself a job in an Udupi hotel as a waiter. Of course, that was a secret dream and things were to change eventually. Nowadays, when i look out of the window during working hours, i can't help blaming that boy for being so damn naive. Moreover, i can't help blaming this man who has nothing against greying and decaying but who refuses to grow up.

Yup

Matter of age

Did Buddha desire enlightenment? Or was it something else? Like longevity? Did he know what was going on? Given the translated scriptures at hand, he doesn't come across as a person with goals. Whatever he said were genuine thoughts, right? He sat down, meditated, connected with his inner self, ignited his consciousness and came up with theories—not to forget some of the awesomest oneliners—that sound so damn cool. He even had a pet dog. There's not an iota of doubt that Buddha practised Madhyam Marga as effectively as he preached. Maybe that explains how and why he stopped at his 80th birthday. [Muhammad passed away at 62 and Jesus became the sole founder of Club 33.] When Marco Polo visited India, he was astonished to see thin yogic men crossing 160. If that's the threshold of human endurance, then Buddha's alleged demise through food poisoning makes sense.

Vocational hazard

Over the years, i've had several thoughts about what i really want to do with my life. Because i know one thing for sure—even if i'm mistaken about everything else—this existence as a human is not a fluke. Each one of us is here with a purpose. However, very few manage to find theirs. Like i mentioned earlier, i've had thoughts. Real, deep, futile ones but still. Sharing a few that took form of words, is all.

Me: I want to be a fisherman. 

ABC: Try Pacific Ocean. Indian Ocean's isn't THAT deep.

Me: I want to be a teacher. 

DEF: What are you going to teach? How to become the prime minister of Pessimism? 

Me: I want to be a film critic. 

GHI: Devere! Just because you're an expert at downloading movies illegally? 

Me: I want to be an engineer. 

JKL: You're going to make a fine clone of a lower middle-class Indian who pretends to be an upper middle-class Indian. No offence, just kidding!

Me: I want to be a poet. 

MNO: For real? Hmm. If i'm hearing you right, you want to die of starvation? 

Me: I want to be a photographer. 

PQR: Last checked, the world hasn't turned completely blind. 

Me: I want to be a farmer. 

STU: Are you out of your mind? Or are you forgetting that sun is usually out of the cloud? Or both?

Me: I want to be a writer.

VWX: Going by your blog, you can't write more than 350 words at one go. 

Me: I want to be a prophet.

YZA: Now we're talking, my bipolar friend.

Civic sense

The track distance between Vashi and Mankhurd is about 8.5 km, which makes it the longest between two railway stations in the city. Other than the thick mangroves on both ends, what separates the two spot is Vashi Creek in the middle. Other than enjoying the wind and watching Arabian Sea, the daily commuters make the most of the view in other ways as well. They fling plastic bags filled with withered garlands from puja and other such materials—for religious reasons—into the seawater. One gentleman recently surprised his fellowmen by wrapping his heap of dried flowers in folded newspapers instead of polythene. It goes without saying that his wordless action must have sparked some thoughts and hopefully, some nature-friendly change in behaviour. Though it is far from ideal a thing to do, let's hope some people got the hint.

Maximum mess

With the monsoon making its presence felt, many roads are back to their ugly best — thanks to accumulating muck. And, though we like to point fingers at the authorities, much of the blame rests on  the public who fail to do their civic duty. For some inexplicable reason, we don’t throw garbage into the huge garbage cans, which are hard to miss. Instead, it becomes a sort of game to throw stuff around the receptacles. The resultant pile-up of rubbish in the open is a common sight in the city. Much of the  problem can be easily solved if the aam janata took it upon themselves to just maintain basic cleanliness. Not helping the situation, rag-pickers forage for useful items among the litter, and leave  without putting the remnants back into the bin. Oh, and who can forget the stray dogs? They too do their bit in spreading the word... err...waste.

You and the tube

TV is back. It's been a gradual process and as of now, it's completely back. And how. While American and British television—if you're not into epic Scandinavian series—is growing by leaps and bounds. What's worth noting here is the way the upswing has been right across the spectrum. It's not concentrated on one genre. There's everything for everyone. The most reasonable conclusion behind this change is the fact that the best writers are moving to the smaller screen. When you binge-watch Breaking Bad or True Detective or Game of Thrones or Downtown Abbey or The Big Bang Theory or Sherlock or Mad Men and yadayadaya, you can't help spare a thought for the ones who had the genius to conceptualize it in their head. And also the arduous path the makers took to translate that vision into reality. The whole point being writers make all the difference. Imagination is priceless and so is the home truth that Indian television is going to face our back—indefinitely—for a reason.

Small wonder

When a child peeks out of the window, what does she see? A world annexed by adults who are impossibly taller than her. She can't help wonder what lies beyond what she's able (or should we say, allowed) to look at. There's so much going on and so many words exchanged. Most of them don't even make sense to her innocent mind. Regardless, she likes being alive and part of this fledgling scheme called family. She finds comfort in love and friendship. It's only when she moves away from the living room towards the window that questions flood her. The trick behind growing up hasn't really hit her yet. As of now, she's the only constant in this ever-mobile universe. Amazing! She stands there short with her eyes stretching wide open. Someday, she'll be on the other side of the window. The only problem is, will she seek answers or will she keep moving like the rest of us?

Liquid state of reincarnation

After toying with the idea of what exactly is sacred, i've reached a conclusion today while brushing: Raindrops are indeed sacred. Never mind the air pollution or the depletion of ozone. Every single droplet is a manifestation of ultimate patience followed by altruism. It moves as if it knows what it's up to. Except that it doesn't. Hypnotized by gravity, it goes down only to rise again. And for what? Suicide. And for whom? Strangers. Absolute strangers.

Good days, bad memory

With the Metro up and running in Andheri, the local residents have much to celebrate. Although the first day had its share of chaotic drama, things have gathered pace over the days. Reasons good enough for us to eavesdrop on conversations that take place in the air-conditioned train compartment. Two gentlemen were effusively praising the current prime minister for his promise of bringing ‘acche din’ back. One of  them even went so far as to attribute the very success of metro to the PM, conveniently forgetting that the infrastructure was a laggard work in progress for almost a decade now. Uff!

Free fall

Streets provoked by monsoon come up with stories of their own. Some have grim ones to share while others, happier. However, post-rain scenarios are worth a dekko. At least in our haphazard city. The garbage is soaked. Puddles created out of nowhere. Dogs feeling homeless all over again. Cars failing to hide their glee due to free wash. Kids acting like they'll never grow up. People walking cautiously for a change. Umbrellas up out in the open. The professional municipal road-diggers cursing the clouds. Long queues outside local dispensary. Vegetables rotten and crushed in the market. Fortunately, it rains every single year. Unfortunately, it never pours hard enough to rid the streets off their scum.

Minds and memories

The idea of disappointing her troubles him. So what does our hero do? He ponders. Deeply. About the various possibilities that lay ahead of them. This makes him starkly pessimistic but utterly realistic. Success has been alien to him for the major part of his life. So he goes ahead with the thought "I don't wish to disappoint her...blah bla" and then does what he has to do. At least what he presumes he has to do. Guess what he does. He creates memories. Loads of them. Good, bad, silly, forgettable. But he creates them with her as sincerely as possible. Because at the end of the day, they aren't in a worldly relationship. They don't stick to labels or vice versa. They are what the purists can call soul mates. And they might be mistaken too. What they can't be wrong about are the memories. Besides, you can't add an ex- to memories. Memories flourish whether you like them or not. The thought process involved is almost sacred. Like them. Perhaps why he thinks "I don't want to disappoint her again...blah bla" before going back to her. Repeatedly. 

Kthxbai

A wise old man once said, "You see what you like to see."











Doesn't matter what i write or what you read because we'll never be congruent. Fortunately, it saves me a lot of trouble.

Incontinence

There was this grey cloud filled with water. 

Barely able to contain itself. 

Full of promises as well. 

Monsoon was away and sun, too close. 

The poor thing had no clue. 

Moreover, it dragged along. 

Knowing not where to stop.
Wind flirted with its hopelessness.
It took small steps in return.
All alone.
Floating up in the sky.
Waiting for the right season.
And the correct moment to break loose.

In case you're wondering what happened to the cloud, i don't know. And neither should you.

Unposted letters

Dearest, 
            I wish to be with you for the rest of our lives. I'll stick around till 2236 and you can be around up to... well..as long as you want to.














                                                                                                               That's all.
                                                                                                                  Yours

Rays and kisses

It takes a bit more than eight minutes for a ray of sunlight to reach us. In other words, it takes quite a lot of time. Arithmetically speaking, an average person blinks 20 times per minute which means 160 blinks would be required for a ray to settle down. Since blinking is an individual process, the numbers may differ to some extent. How about a kiss, huh? A collaborative process, no doubt. If a person kisses another person, say, 60 times per minute—non-stop—as if on a potion composed by Cupid himself—how many pecks on any part of the face please? 480 or around 500. Whoa! 500 kisses for a ray of sun to touch the surface of our planet sounds..err..wearisome. Ahem. Here's hoping that a ray kisses the eyes of the one lost in another. Devastatingly.

Why?

Every little thing we do, we do it out of love. Love for money, fame, success, reputation, legacy, family and the list goes on and on and on. But the key element remains the same: love. Not hatred, just love. Pure. And there's a price attached to it. It's a daily process manipulated by trains of heartbeat, pints of poisoned blood, streams of stinky sweat, storms of headaches, fields of warts and godknowswhatelse. But they are worth it. Anything we do out of passion, the end result has to be bliss. Like a drunk person who lays on the side of the street unattended by civilization. Or a painter locked in his basement unmindful of the bills that are accumulating upstairs. Or an otherwise svelte housewife who is gaining weight thanks to her responsibilities nicknamed hubby, kids and in-laws. Or firefighters who enter inferno while everybody else is running out of it. What drives them? What's in there for them? Why do they appear like they are totally fine with their share of effort irrespective of the consequences? Just in case you reach that spot, do let me know how it feels like. We'll share notes.

Nodding is possible

The untimely drizzle in parts of the city might have come as a relief to some, but where there was no precipitation, there was continued perspiration. Also as expected, the so-called rain was followed by high humidity and further high temperatures throughout. No wonder sleeping without sweating is nothing less than a task—at least for the unprivileged lot. And in such a scenario who wouldn’t want to sleep with the open sky above, especially when you’re certain that it’s not going to rain anyway?

Here and thereafter

Her: "Do you ever wonder whether God believes in us?"

Him: "I don't know about others but she believes in us."

Her: "How come?"

Him: "What other option does she have?"

Her: "Well...she does."

Him: "Like what?"

Her: "Not believing in us?."

Him: "She can't afford to do that."

Her: "Really?"

Him: "Yup....in her imagination like she's in ours."

Oh, God!

• "Who was Jesus Christ trying to impress?" - questions you aren't supposed to ask
• Jesus was an underpaid carpenter and a closet wine connoisseur.
• "Thanks so much y'all but it ain't my birthday." - Jesus on Christmas
• Moses simply changed the course of a river. Jesus changed the course of human history.
• Jesus is my second favouritest superhero. After Mowgli.
• tattoos: all JC ever asked for 
• "Let him sans sin cast the first couch." - Jesus to Bollywood filmmakers 
• Marcus Schenkenberg is widely believed to be the world's first male supermodel. Jesus disagrees though. 
• There's a reason why "Oh Jesus" played a significant part in the rise of porn industry. 
• As attached to your mother as Jesus was to his cross.
• "He's grossly underfollowed." - a tweep on Jesus, before his resurrection 
• Jesus can't possibly love us more than Santa Claus.
• Zuckerberg may have about a billion 'friends' on FB but Jesus still remains the most befriended Jew of all time. 
• JC, help me find my soulmate first. You can save my soul later.
• I started believing in Jesse after he made Jim Caviezel act in The Passion of the Christ.
• "Jesus asks us to follow him but would he follow us back?" - Doubting Thomas, before he got blocked
• They crucified Jesus because he refused to work for Ikea, right? 
• "We are only as unforgettable as our last supper." - Jesus
• When it comes to welfare, Jesus is the government's ultimate dole model.
• “I missed the 27 Club by just six years. Damn.” - Jesus
• Jesus walked on water before walking into a bar mitzvah. Oops!
• Not a day goes by i don't think of JC and how his fabulous abs went to waste. 
• I've got nothing against Jesus. Even if he hates me, i wholeheartedly forgive him.

A secret admirer

Once upon a branch,
there lived a bird,
which sang songs nobody heard.
But nonetheless, being shameless,
he sang his poor heart out loud.
Be it sunny, rainy, snowy or something else,the musical chords seldom shut the fuck up.
Lost in his own world, barely anything mattered to him
—except on that fateful afternoon.
Struck by his loneliness,
no, not the lack of audience,
he stopped singing.
Just like that.
Silence prevailed for a few days,
before the brown ol' tall tree broke silence,
"I'm your greatest fan and you can't do this to me!"

Figment of reality

The moment a train drags itself to a halt, the passion (for lack of better word) exhibited by passengers is worth a dekko. Civility is the last thing on the menu as the animal instincts take over. Wait, can animals stoop this low? Once the commuters get in, the struggle is to find the space to stand—if not a seat to sit on. This often leads to trivial arguments about that imaginary fourth seat guaranteed by the railway department. Some passengers budge and let the fourth guy sit on the edge of the bench while others don't. Nevertheless, this results into interesting conversations. In one such confrontation, "Baatne se pyaar badhta hai" was replied with "Lekin jagah kam hoti hai." Indeed.