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.