Thursday, January 10, 2008
New Year Anecdote
It was January 8th, a Tuesday morning. I woke up and went to the drawing room and switched on the TV. As usual, I was surfing the channels. On a news channel, I forgot the name, I saw Anil Ambani being interviewed. I think there could be nothing more inspiring than his words to begin the day. He was speaking about the success of Anil Dhirubhai Ambani Group(ADAG) in the communication’s sector. He said at this stage in his life, he would wish for a rewind button to become 22 years old again and take full advantage of the Indian market and mentioned that he was very happy to be here at this time. Regarding his future plans, he said that he was ready to diverse in various sectors and expand the existing ADAG and drove the confidence from his dad who was not a petroleum or a chemical engineer, neither a textile worker nor a fruit picker, but made his mark wherever he could. I wish that our politicians will also have such thoughts in their field!
Wednesday, June 6, 2007
Fiasco
I remember Tom Hanks saying "Mama always said life is like a box of chocolates, you never know what it has to offer" in Forrest Gump. Two weeks before, I had to return to Bombay on Monday. I had booked my ticket in Saurashtra Janata Exp. which leaves Ahmedabad at 8:40 pm and arrives at Bandra at 5:40 am.
I left from home at 7:30 pm for the railway station only to find the road jam-packed with vehicles. So the rickshaw driver chose a longer route, charged more, drove ruthlessly and finally left me at the station at 8:10 pm. Legion of migrants appearing to be from Bihar, Uttar Pradesh and Rajasthan lay at the platform. Hardly managing to walk amongst those squiggling bodies, I somehow reached the notice board showing platform numbers for train arrivals only to see that my train would arrive at the 6th platform. It was 8:25 pm when I reached the platform. Luckily, I got a place to sit on a bench shared by 2 people already. My mind was preoccupied with thoughts about the next morning plans which consisted of reaching office directly, going to the gym and surf the net for personal use. A South Indian baritone voice was heard announcing that the train was half an hour late. The train arrived at 9:10 pm and after a long haul it left the station at 10:00 pm. I thought it would still be not bad if I reached at quarter to 7 am. No sooner had I lied down on the upper berth than I was asleep to take a nap until the ticket checker woke me up. After his waking me up, I slept at 12 in the night and woke up at 7:30 am. The train had halted at a village. Passengers said it had been more than 1 hour since the train had stopped there. Due to the Borivali-Virar mega block, this had happened. Just on the opposite side of the platform another train from Valsad was to come which could help me reach office, though late. I boarded this train and didn't know I had got to stand till Dadar like a Filmfare award with both hands raised. In the space between the door and the third row of seats from the former, there were about 40 people or even more. It was impossible for me to even see my feet or move even an inch amongst the body-smells. After arriving at Dadar, the journey to office was still to begin. I had to stand in a queue having considerable linear extent in a large hall. Since it was already time for people to go to office, the 25 minute journey was no less tiring than the one before. I reached office at 11 am, changed my clothes and rushed towards my bay.
I had reached 5 hours later than what I had planned.
I left from home at 7:30 pm for the railway station only to find the road jam-packed with vehicles. So the rickshaw driver chose a longer route, charged more, drove ruthlessly and finally left me at the station at 8:10 pm. Legion of migrants appearing to be from Bihar, Uttar Pradesh and Rajasthan lay at the platform. Hardly managing to walk amongst those squiggling bodies, I somehow reached the notice board showing platform numbers for train arrivals only to see that my train would arrive at the 6th platform. It was 8:25 pm when I reached the platform. Luckily, I got a place to sit on a bench shared by 2 people already. My mind was preoccupied with thoughts about the next morning plans which consisted of reaching office directly, going to the gym and surf the net for personal use. A South Indian baritone voice was heard announcing that the train was half an hour late. The train arrived at 9:10 pm and after a long haul it left the station at 10:00 pm. I thought it would still be not bad if I reached at quarter to 7 am. No sooner had I lied down on the upper berth than I was asleep to take a nap until the ticket checker woke me up. After his waking me up, I slept at 12 in the night and woke up at 7:30 am. The train had halted at a village. Passengers said it had been more than 1 hour since the train had stopped there. Due to the Borivali-Virar mega block, this had happened. Just on the opposite side of the platform another train from Valsad was to come which could help me reach office, though late. I boarded this train and didn't know I had got to stand till Dadar like a Filmfare award with both hands raised. In the space between the door and the third row of seats from the former, there were about 40 people or even more. It was impossible for me to even see my feet or move even an inch amongst the body-smells. After arriving at Dadar, the journey to office was still to begin. I had to stand in a queue having considerable linear extent in a large hall. Since it was already time for people to go to office, the 25 minute journey was no less tiring than the one before. I reached office at 11 am, changed my clothes and rushed towards my bay.
I had reached 5 hours later than what I had planned.
Monday, May 28, 2007
Chapora Fort Memories (September 2003)
I believe Goa tour will not be ever complete without visiting Chapora Fort for those who have seen the movie Dil Chahta Hai. We were three gujjus and four biharis. We finally reached the place after visiting the north Goa beaches, in the afternoon.
A narrow road led to the top of a hillock crowned by the fort. After parking the bikes at the slopy road end, we were all set to do trekking for about fifteen minutes. As we climbed, a small lake to our left and the Arabian sea to the right appeared splendidly glittering in the sun. An arch shaped stone gate appeared as a perfect entrance to the abandoned fort. Ahead of us was flat land with scattered grass and beyond it was the wall where the three actors had sat in the movie. After a five minute walk, the wall was before us with lesser stones than shown in the movie. All of us put our bags and belongings on the ground and ran to sit on the wall. I was the most excited and could not wait for clicking snaps. After clicking snaps of the scenic views, it was turn for us to click ourselves in all poses resembling the actors. The place appeared as if nobody had ever been there, with no sound except for the loud sea waves hitting the shore below. A triangular piece of land running below the wall seperated the sea into two parts. We were too tired to go to the bottommost point. It was fun lying on the wall to stare at the plain sky and also to sit and chat. Jogging around the place would have been an option if it was early morning. It was a perfect place for kite flying or playing cricket, with the wind blowing and open space all around. Unfortunately, we could not figure out the way to take a video by the camera and didn't carry food.
It had been almost an hour sitting on that broken wall and was time for us to make a move for lunch.
A narrow road led to the top of a hillock crowned by the fort. After parking the bikes at the slopy road end, we were all set to do trekking for about fifteen minutes. As we climbed, a small lake to our left and the Arabian sea to the right appeared splendidly glittering in the sun. An arch shaped stone gate appeared as a perfect entrance to the abandoned fort. Ahead of us was flat land with scattered grass and beyond it was the wall where the three actors had sat in the movie. After a five minute walk, the wall was before us with lesser stones than shown in the movie. All of us put our bags and belongings on the ground and ran to sit on the wall. I was the most excited and could not wait for clicking snaps. After clicking snaps of the scenic views, it was turn for us to click ourselves in all poses resembling the actors. The place appeared as if nobody had ever been there, with no sound except for the loud sea waves hitting the shore below. A triangular piece of land running below the wall seperated the sea into two parts. We were too tired to go to the bottommost point. It was fun lying on the wall to stare at the plain sky and also to sit and chat. Jogging around the place would have been an option if it was early morning. It was a perfect place for kite flying or playing cricket, with the wind blowing and open space all around. Unfortunately, we could not figure out the way to take a video by the camera and didn't carry food.
It had been almost an hour sitting on that broken wall and was time for us to make a move for lunch.
Bombay Mornings
The company buses arrive in a group of three at 8:20 am daily stopping just beside my building. Its been a month since I met my Airoli friends in the bus. Everyday its 6:30 am and am awake and in a hurry to make it to office latest by 7:30 to exercise in the gym.
Twenty minutes approximately are spent in getting up from the cozy bed, brushing, putting office clothes in the bag, taking soap and towel. Then I got to put on shoes and look for the company id card and at 7 am downstairs, standing outside my building hoping to get a cab which would drop at office. Sometimes I feel luck owes me a debt for my hope turns into reality, though its once in ten days. Rest of the days, I get a cab till Gandhinagar, which is followed by a two minutes brisk walk to the bus stop. With sleepy eyes I sit in the cab and the blaring music of the radio keeps me awake for the journey ahead. Its worse if I am seated at the back. Even after asking to lower the volume, the reduced volume is still good enough to irritate me especially when I hate the song being played. Its a picturesque sight over the Airoli bridge which spans 1.5 kms and the only sound other than the vehicle is of the long and massive trucks. A river runs below the bridge with thick green forest on both shores. Pink early morning sky, birds and sunlight don't gel with the loud music. Just after the bridge, is the toll stop or toll naka as we call it. After a five to ten second halt the cab again picks up speed and am outside the limits of Navi Mumbai. Some people (its a shared cab) ask the driver to stop just at the four crossroads at the Eastern Express Highway. The journey after this is pretty fast for about five minutes and with the wind blowing without any dust or smell of fuels of vehicles its a cool ride ahead. I really forget if this is the same Bombay which has jam-packed roads in the evenings and peak hours of the morning. Sign boards signalling ways to Chembur,Seepz,Powai signal the end of the speedy ride and a right turn is taken to go to Kanjurmarg. Barren land with small patches of greenery on either side of the road run only for about two minutes, and a small overbridge making way for the railway line under it is where I get down. After the walk am waiting for a BEST bus to take me to the office. The walk, the wait and the bus journey when over sums upto fifteen minutes and am towards my bay to change the shoes.
Today, its the first time I did not come alone in the cab as Abhishek told yesterday he would come along early. At 7 today, both were out, waiting for a cab. Luckily, the driver agreed to drop us at Vikhroli and in fifteen minutes we were at the office.
Twenty minutes approximately are spent in getting up from the cozy bed, brushing, putting office clothes in the bag, taking soap and towel. Then I got to put on shoes and look for the company id card and at 7 am downstairs, standing outside my building hoping to get a cab which would drop at office. Sometimes I feel luck owes me a debt for my hope turns into reality, though its once in ten days. Rest of the days, I get a cab till Gandhinagar, which is followed by a two minutes brisk walk to the bus stop. With sleepy eyes I sit in the cab and the blaring music of the radio keeps me awake for the journey ahead. Its worse if I am seated at the back. Even after asking to lower the volume, the reduced volume is still good enough to irritate me especially when I hate the song being played. Its a picturesque sight over the Airoli bridge which spans 1.5 kms and the only sound other than the vehicle is of the long and massive trucks. A river runs below the bridge with thick green forest on both shores. Pink early morning sky, birds and sunlight don't gel with the loud music. Just after the bridge, is the toll stop or toll naka as we call it. After a five to ten second halt the cab again picks up speed and am outside the limits of Navi Mumbai. Some people (its a shared cab) ask the driver to stop just at the four crossroads at the Eastern Express Highway. The journey after this is pretty fast for about five minutes and with the wind blowing without any dust or smell of fuels of vehicles its a cool ride ahead. I really forget if this is the same Bombay which has jam-packed roads in the evenings and peak hours of the morning. Sign boards signalling ways to Chembur,Seepz,Powai signal the end of the speedy ride and a right turn is taken to go to Kanjurmarg. Barren land with small patches of greenery on either side of the road run only for about two minutes, and a small overbridge making way for the railway line under it is where I get down. After the walk am waiting for a BEST bus to take me to the office. The walk, the wait and the bus journey when over sums upto fifteen minutes and am towards my bay to change the shoes.
Today, its the first time I did not come alone in the cab as Abhishek told yesterday he would come along early. At 7 today, both were out, waiting for a cab. Luckily, the driver agreed to drop us at Vikhroli and in fifteen minutes we were at the office.
New Farce
They were 2-3 in number in the early nineties, became 5-10 in the later decade and today they are almost 20. They all defy the purpose they are there for. Just because they claim to haunt us for 24 hours, they add spice on any damn occurence and qualify it for telecasting. By now, you must have guessed I am referring to none other than the news channels appearing at the rate of atleast 1 in every 4 channels.
They are there not because there is something new happening somewhere sometime, but because they have to stand by their sick claim of being eternally present. Its an insult to call it 'news', because it is hackneyed by telecasting 'n' times with the same short video clips. Instead of slinking off when the reality is over, they make money even when there is no occurence. They literally make 'news'. For example, they can compare SRK and BigB desultorily without reaching any conclusion, and by showing the same age old video clippings repetitively, keep the audience intact. They are able to find relationships in people who themselves don't know if they have ever met! In August 2006, they just made an issue about Jia Khan being Aamir Khan's sister. Don't be shocked, because I guess even Aamir himself must have been left astound. The crux here was that Aamir's father had an extra marital affair with Jia's mom. To be on the safe side, this was only raised as a question and was never confirmed. Bottomline is -"They brought something on air atleast for 1 hour, which could pass their time". Similarly, cricket stars also help very much in filling the otherwise empty slots. If there is a love affair of celebrities, then for the media it is a dream come true, because they can easily pass about 5 hours by showing the event after every 1 hour interval. They must have made a seperate section made into a dummy temple to sit and pray day long for such affairs to take place or atleast for any 2 unrelated people to pose intimately for a photograph. These days every news is a 'Breaking News', maybe for us to bang and break our heads against a wall after being taken aback on realizing that this content has qualified for such a title. In a remote village in Haryana, a baby's fall into a bore-well is the whole nation's concern. Whole nation has to know right at that moment that Hrithik Roshan pays a tax of 16 crores, or else they cannot go to the loo. Recently, Raju Shrivastav and Rakhi Sawant appear on a show on Aaj Tak's Tez and in other channels laughter shows are telecasted. I dont know on what basis are they so important to be a part of a news channel.
Their job is of a kind that can make them earn forever since everyday Mallika's dress will keep reducing, a zoo animal in some remote part may wear clothes, an animal may be nicknamed with a human name, every celebrity is going to dine somewhere, a lover couple will elope from their houses, unknown people are going to have extra-marital affairs, a husband will beat his wife on the road or vice-versa, students will copy in the board exams, and finally the Indian population is big enough to respond to the silly polls after hearing about the unachievable prizes and moolah at stake.
They are there not because there is something new happening somewhere sometime, but because they have to stand by their sick claim of being eternally present. Its an insult to call it 'news', because it is hackneyed by telecasting 'n' times with the same short video clips. Instead of slinking off when the reality is over, they make money even when there is no occurence. They literally make 'news'. For example, they can compare SRK and BigB desultorily without reaching any conclusion, and by showing the same age old video clippings repetitively, keep the audience intact. They are able to find relationships in people who themselves don't know if they have ever met! In August 2006, they just made an issue about Jia Khan being Aamir Khan's sister. Don't be shocked, because I guess even Aamir himself must have been left astound. The crux here was that Aamir's father had an extra marital affair with Jia's mom. To be on the safe side, this was only raised as a question and was never confirmed. Bottomline is -"They brought something on air atleast for 1 hour, which could pass their time". Similarly, cricket stars also help very much in filling the otherwise empty slots. If there is a love affair of celebrities, then for the media it is a dream come true, because they can easily pass about 5 hours by showing the event after every 1 hour interval. They must have made a seperate section made into a dummy temple to sit and pray day long for such affairs to take place or atleast for any 2 unrelated people to pose intimately for a photograph. These days every news is a 'Breaking News', maybe for us to bang and break our heads against a wall after being taken aback on realizing that this content has qualified for such a title. In a remote village in Haryana, a baby's fall into a bore-well is the whole nation's concern. Whole nation has to know right at that moment that Hrithik Roshan pays a tax of 16 crores, or else they cannot go to the loo. Recently, Raju Shrivastav and Rakhi Sawant appear on a show on Aaj Tak's Tez and in other channels laughter shows are telecasted. I dont know on what basis are they so important to be a part of a news channel.
Their job is of a kind that can make them earn forever since everyday Mallika's dress will keep reducing, a zoo animal in some remote part may wear clothes, an animal may be nicknamed with a human name, every celebrity is going to dine somewhere, a lover couple will elope from their houses, unknown people are going to have extra-marital affairs, a husband will beat his wife on the road or vice-versa, students will copy in the board exams, and finally the Indian population is big enough to respond to the silly polls after hearing about the unachievable prizes and moolah at stake.
Glittering Gets Going
Whenever we step out of our houses, we see so many things around. Maybe you may come across the same things everyday, but have you ever realized you may have skipped something. Perhaps not, because you missed observing it even today!
Its been more than 8 months in the Airoli house. Everyday I step out of the house early at 7 and step in not before 7 in the evening. As far as the weekends are concerned I have to come out thrice for the meals. Ambience outside the building consists of a small garden, a guard room and parked cars and bikes. There is a white car, always seen it dirty and dusty. It appears as if the owner has left the car to lose its original colour irrespective of the time it takes. Whenever the sight of this car comes across the eye, I avoid giving it a second glance. Except for this one, I remember each car's model (there are only 6). I never bothered to figure out which model was this damn abandoned car. Time passed, these thoughts also vanished from my mind. On a Saturday, Babu and Deepak dropped in at my place. We were playing table tennis at the ground floor. After the game, just to have some cool air blow against our sweaty bodies, we came out to stroll in the garden in the evening. To reach the garden, one has to pass the parked cars. With a sudden feeling of wonder Deepak asked me to whom that Mercedes Kompressor C Class belonged? It had so happened that we had crossed the car and Deepak was staring towards it. I was taken aback to know there was someone in the building owning such a car. The shine of the steel symbol of Mercedes signature at the rear side in the dark had caught his attention.
Thanks to the evening, the car got noticed. The ever dusty look had defied the brand name. I realized then that everything exra-ordinary in this world can only make its mark if it is noticed. It is important to let someone know you are special or it may be late if you leave it for people themselves to figure it out.
Its been more than 8 months in the Airoli house. Everyday I step out of the house early at 7 and step in not before 7 in the evening. As far as the weekends are concerned I have to come out thrice for the meals. Ambience outside the building consists of a small garden, a guard room and parked cars and bikes. There is a white car, always seen it dirty and dusty. It appears as if the owner has left the car to lose its original colour irrespective of the time it takes. Whenever the sight of this car comes across the eye, I avoid giving it a second glance. Except for this one, I remember each car's model (there are only 6). I never bothered to figure out which model was this damn abandoned car. Time passed, these thoughts also vanished from my mind. On a Saturday, Babu and Deepak dropped in at my place. We were playing table tennis at the ground floor. After the game, just to have some cool air blow against our sweaty bodies, we came out to stroll in the garden in the evening. To reach the garden, one has to pass the parked cars. With a sudden feeling of wonder Deepak asked me to whom that Mercedes Kompressor C Class belonged? It had so happened that we had crossed the car and Deepak was staring towards it. I was taken aback to know there was someone in the building owning such a car. The shine of the steel symbol of Mercedes signature at the rear side in the dark had caught his attention.
Thanks to the evening, the car got noticed. The ever dusty look had defied the brand name. I realized then that everything exra-ordinary in this world can only make its mark if it is noticed. It is important to let someone know you are special or it may be late if you leave it for people themselves to figure it out.
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