The Quest

He stood by the shore all by himself, for he had figured he needed a few moments of solace. There was something magical about the sea. The waves roaring as they battered the shore, the breeze grazing against him –it made him feel alive! This self-imposed reclusion of sorts wasn’t for nothing.

This had bothered him for more than a few months now. It was something he was looking for – or was it someone?

Lost in the depths of his own misery, he struggled to come to terms with who he really was. “It’s unfortunate,” he thought.

“Mirrors can only reflect the body and never the soul. So technically, no one ever sees their true selves.”

The thought of how well the others around him seemingly knew him made him feel exceedingly lucky at one moment, and overtly vulnerable the very next. His face went from a momentary smile to an awkward grin in a matter of seconds.

“Could they really know me that well?”

“Or are they fooling around?”

“Should I trust them at all?”

“Should I trust anybody at all?”

He could recall how fond his friends and family were of him. And he could also recall how they always expected the best out of him.

Were they right to do so? Or was the voice within him that repeatedly told him otherwise unmistakably true?

His mind flip-flopped from one extreme to another. It was all too much to take. His frustration reached new highs with each passing day. Ending his life would have been too cowardly a choice. Patience wasn’t around the corner. He needed an answer, and he needed it fast.

He looked through some of his pictures: old and new, which was followed by the books he read, the notebooks he wrote in, the paintings he so artfully made, his profiles on social media – all in search of traces of himself –but all in vain. His true nature belied him, unfailingly, always!

It all made him realise he had spent days together pretending to be someone he wasn’t. For when one’s own life seems dull, another’s looks attractive.

“Pretension – so easy to pull off, yet so difficult to live with”, he realised. “If only it was easier..”

He was pining to be himself. To be accepted the way he inwardly felt he really was. But he feared the possibility of a world that failed to fathom the person he really was. Rejection, he knew, could sting more than the deepest of wounds.

He had two choices –succumb to the pressures of the world or break the shackles and live wholly.

The choice he made could make his life a livelier affair or break him into pieces, shattering him for life. The uncertainty had his heart pounding. He took a deep breath and looked up to the sky –the stars and the planets gave nothing away. The realization that he was no astrologer hit him like a meteor.

starry-sky-washington_25309_990x742

“What was I even thinking?” he laughed.

The walk back home wasn’t the same.

Jollification (Or is it?)

The festive season is upon us again. And the fervour is here to stay.

1

You can sense happy vibes all around – the accompanying cheer is what makes them all so special, after all.

Growing up has changed my perspective on festivals in more ways than one. From being an out and out dancer in idol processions, to being my laid-back self now –a brief account of what has shaped these changes:

1. The Music:

So you need a reason to sing and dance? Let’s pretend to celebrate the next festival in line.

Drums would still be okay with me. But how on earth can you justify having a DJ playing an item song in an idol procession?

God doesn’t give two hoots about a Chikni Chameli or a Mary for all I know.

Seriously brothers, we need to reconsider this.

2. Contributions:

It’s an opportunity for every local to contribute to the celebrations. But let’s try to not make it seem desperate.

I personally believe that the amount to be paid is the sole discretion of the donor. Let them decide how generous they can be for themselves.

In the end, as long as they truly feel for the cause, no amount is small.

 3. Mass Inconvenience:

This is a special characteristic as far as my current locality is concerned.

The route to my place is a network of streets that are as narrow as they come. And when you decide to block one of them so that you can play garba/dandiya on the street, you’ve clearly lost your mind.

And being asked to take a U-turn and not go home just because your car won’t be able to get through is just the beginning. Hello folks? I live there for God’s sake.

4. The Consent (or the lack of it):

Bura na maano holi hai!

If you say this and expect me to not react when you throw a water-balloon at me, you would be very disappointed. If we are friends, we would probably still get along fine post this debacle.

But what if we aren’t even acquaintances, let alone friends?

5. Bans:

It’s your festival and you have every right to celebrate it. But, to force your commandments onto others is insensitive. Last time I checked, we were still a democracy. And to curtail others’ freedoms for no good is an attempt to try and move away from being one.

6. The Commotion:

I have never been a fan of all the commotion. Multitasking isn’t my strongest suit and blaring loudspeakers trying to distract me from any task at hand have always put me off.

To limit one’s to joviality to oneself is acceptable. Trust me. No one’s going to be mad at you. Not even God.

7.Traffic Snarls:

These are times when moving from A to B in your city can be a pain. You would rather just sit at home than be outside moving at a snail’s pace.

I know and appreciate that festivals are a part of the identity of our richly-diverse nation. They aren’t just opportunities to celebrate our culture but also for people to come together.

If only we had studied enough history, we would know it was all Lokmanya Tilak had in mind when he reformed and preached the idea of a Ganesh Utsav back in 1894 – he never thought about bans and mass inconvenience. Makes you wonder why all of this happening now?

Are festivals losing their true meaning amid all the hype?

Dear Sibling

Some of us have had the fortune of growing up with siblings while others haven’t. In your growing up years, your sibling relationships have likely been roller coaster rides. You make the best team at one moment, and could well be fighting a-la Floyd Mayweather and Manny Pacquiao in the ring the very next.

But no matter what, the equation always remains. You continue to share a good rapport despite all the disagreements. And this is a common experience irrespective of the part of the world you are from.

Today is my sibling’s birthday. And we’ve grown up with our share of good times and quarrels alike. I have learnt a lot from her over the years and continue to. And needless to say, we do make a great team.

I am not sure if she’d remember this. But my earliest memory of practicing cursive handwriting dates back to sometime in 1998. I was only in the first grade, but I’d be forced to practice cursive writing every day. I use the term ‘forced’ because I can recall being reluctant to do so on more than one instance.The practicing helped and I have learnt to write beautifully over the years (in the aesthetic sense at least). Many of my friends over the course of school and college have complimented me for my handwriting and claimed that my notebooks looked like printed books. Well, if it wasn’t for the practice, that wouldn’t have been the case.

I hated being forced to practice cursive, but today, I can’t thank you enough for it. Thank you!

It was because of you that I developed a penchant for reading. If I hadn’t, I wouldn’t have had a good vocabulary and the ability to write as well as I can. This very blog then would only have been a distant dream – far from reality, never transcending the realms of fantasy. You introduced me to the world of happening kiddie newspapers and got me to read. No kid fancies going through a Times of India or a Loksatta, after all. It took me a while to be a consistent reader and eventually a writer. I still have a lot to learn when it comes to writing, but I will in due course.

But credit to you for getting me started. Thank you!

I am the most clueless person in the world when it comes to shopping for clothes. Over time, I have learnt to pick and choose. But it hasn’t happened on its own. I am still a bit apprehensive when it comes to shopping for myself, although it’s easier when I have you for company.

For helping me choose the right stuff – Thank you!

There was a time when I didn’t know of a world beyond McDonald’s, KFC and Subway.

For introducing me to varieties of food beyond my imagination – Thank you!

Here’s to the best siblings in the world, to all of the nonsensical jokes we crack and still laugh wholeheartedly to, to putting up with football matches and desperate housewives.

Happy Birthday!

Black and Yellow

Here in Mumbai, we are all too familiar with the colors black and yellow.

You-Know-What-It-is_o_92122

And the ruckus raised by vehicles donning these colors, their infamous drivers and unions keeps making it to the headlines at regular intervals. I am one of the many citizens of Mumbai who have taken an acute dislike for these occurrences. Mind you, I wasn’t always this way.

As a kid who was ferried to and from school in an auto rickshaw, I wasn’t conditioned to despise them.But as I grew up to start traveling around the city by myself, I realized that successfully getting into an auto/taxi to anywhere could be a whole new ball game. The power dynamics at play blew my mind. No prizes for guessing though – I didn’t stay amused for long.

Every time I get refused, I have this urge to give them a high five –in the face, with a brick. But wouldn’t that be inhuman bordering on illegal? Every time I consider doing it or get frustrated, I also wonder why I waste my time getting all worked up. For all I know, they do not give a damn and just go about their day rather merrily. It might also fill them with a false sense of pride – you know, to wholly be in control of where they go whenever they choose to and to not give two hoots about what happens with your life post the refusal.

That’s not to say all the cabbies or auto riders are errant. Let’s say it’s roughly 70% of them (Am I being too lenient? Let me know).

There are two things the black and yellows can really do to successfully compete with private cabbies –

  1. Acknowledge the existence of the word ‘yes’:

1

Say yes for a change. The very reduction in the number of passengers being refused could divert half of the uber/ola faithful to the black and yellows.

  1. Rent better cabs:

Who wouldn’t fancy going around in a Hyundai i10 as opposed to a worn out Premier Padmini?

267  vs. i10 Taxi2

Better cars = Happier Customers = More Customers = More Income = Happier Cabbies

Hiring a cab is an event that can unfold in a number of ways..

Around the world, refusals aren’t the norm. You would never come across a taxi driver refusing customers saying, “Arey lekin mujhe idhar nahin, udhar jaana hai” or “Abhi gas bharne jaana hai” while in Tokyo or New York. It’s pretty routine that way – Passenger arrives > opens door > gets into taxi > tells the driver where he wants to go > off to destination.

The routine in Mumbai is rarely, if ever, the same. It could be like any of the following depending on a person’s luck/ astrological chart / destiny / determination/ persistence:

Case I:

Passenger arrives > opens door > gets into taxi > tells the driver where he wants to go > off to destination.

This event is as rare as an elephant in Antarctica (and is often considered hypothetical).

Case II:

Passenger arrives > opens door > gets into taxi > tells the driver where he wants to go > driver refuses > passenger requests > driver refuses > passenger requests > driver refuses > passenger begs > driver agrees > off to destination

Case III:

Passenger approaches taxi > Tells the driver where he wants to go > Driver looks the other way and drives off without a response> Passenger feels like an idiot

Case IV:

Passenger approaches taxi >Tells the driver where he wants to go > Driver refuses > Passenger threatens to take the driver to a police station for refusing>Driver doesn’t say a word > off to destination

Case V:

Passenger approaches taxi > Tells the driver where he wants to go > Driver refuses > Passenger leaves fuming > Somehow finds another cab > Lodges a complaint about the driver on RTO’s website> Hopes and prays the driver is punished or at least warned > Never gets any response with regard to the complaint > Same old miserable feeling!

No wonder every Mumbaikar has learned to make-do with the situation.

Inconveniencing thousands of Mumbaikars and subjecting passengers to hostile treatment will never do these guys any favors. Ola and Uber will do better than usual every time they stay off roads – Protesting against a service only to increase its demand is the epitome of irony!

When will they learn? Sooner than later I hope.