The etymology of Mumbai

Yesterday, on our way to 'The Hub' in Goregaon to watch the 10.45 PM show of the latest sci-fi "Inception", my roomie popped up a very interesting question. He asked "Ever wondered why Worli is called by that name?"; or for that matter any other place in Mumbai is called by that name?

Colaba, Mahim, Matunga, Dadar, Sion, Powai, Vashi, Virar - these are not the usual names you hear of areas in any other city. So, I thought, let me look this up and see if I can find the answer to his questions.

I found almost all my answers at this online archive of a book by Samuel T. Shephard available at this link.

But as Perry Mason would aways say - Let us begin from the beginning.

Let us begin with Mumbai.

Mumbai derives its name from the temple of Koli Goddess Mumba or Maha Amba. Aai in Marathi means mother.

Mumbai is built on an archipilago of seven islands: Bombay Island, Parel, Mazagaon, Mahim, Colaba, Worli, and Old Woman's Island (also known as Little Colaba).

Here is a brief writeup on how other parts of Mumbai got their names.

Andheri

Though I haven't come across any concrete source of information on this but quite interestingly Wiki suggests that Andheri is quite ironically derived from the name of Udaygiri hills (Bright Mountain) that houses the Mahakali Caves complex.

Antop Hill

Possibly named after a Hindu resident resident N. Antoba who possesed properties at Girgaum and Varli. Antoba (or Antob) got corrupted to Antop in English.

Crawford Market

This market was opened up by the then Municipal Commissioner of Mumbai, Arthur Travers Crawford.

Bandra

Bandra is most probably derived from the Persian word Bandar for a port. In Marathi, the word for a port is Vandre, the reason why you would often find many rickshaw-wallahs and bus conductors calling it by this name (i.e. Vandre).

Babulnath Road

This road is named after the financer of the Babulnath temple. This Shiva temple was funded by a person named Babalji Hirji Nath, thus the name Babulnath (the God of Babul)

Bhuleshwar

This place is again named after a financer of a temple. He was a rich Koli, named Bhula/Bhola/Bhulya; thus the name Bhuleshwar (the God of Bhula).

Byculla

It is said that one Sir J. Campbell coined this name from 'bhaya' & 'khala' ('Bhaya' is the Indian name for Cassia Fistula, or Amaltaas & Khala means 'low ground' in Marathi). May be the place was once abound with these trees.

Charni Road

According to one account, this name is derived from a (then) locality near the Thane railway station called Chendni. Many residents of Chendni migrated to an settled near Girgaum and thus the name Chendni Road which became Charni Road later. Another account traces the roots to 'charon', the grazing of cattle.

Chowpatty

This is now synonymous with any sea beach in Mumbai, though initially it was meant only for the Girgaum Chowpatty. Chowpatty is derived from 'Chau-Pati' or four creeks.

Chinchpokli

This is derived from 'chinch' (Marathi for tamarind) trees that grew in the area.

Churchgate

Named after one of the three gates leading to the old fort. Interestingly Churchgate was called 'Pawan-chakki Gate' also, possibly on aacount of a wind mill at the location sometime in the late 18th century.

Colaba

The fishermen are called 'Koli' in Marathi (Interestingly, Koli means a spider - one who weaves a web or net). They were one of the earliest residents of Mumbai. Colaba probably derives its name from 'Kolbhat' meaning the residence of Kolis. Or, it could have originated from 'Kol-ab' (ab meaninng water in Persian) i.e. dwelling of Kolis near water. The Persian word 'Kalbeh' meaning a neck of land jutting into the sea could also have been an etymological origin for the name Colaba.

Cuffe Parade

Named after Mr. T.W. Cuffe, Chairman of the Standing Committee of Corporation 1901-02. He suggested the raised footpath on the Cuffe Parade Road that distinguishes it from other roads in Mumbai.

Dadar

Dadar means ladder in Marathi. Bombay was a set of seven islands and the village of Dadar would have been a 'ladder' leading to the main island of Bombay. No wonder, You still have sug a big crowd at the Dadar railway station even in these times.

Elephanta Islands

Originally known as Gharapuri, they were named elephanta by the Portuguese from the life-size figure of an elephant which stood in the lower part of the island. The figure later fell down, and was removed and re-installed in Victoria Gardens.

Girgaum

This is probably derived from 'giri' and 'gram' from its location at the foot of the Malabar Hills.

Kalbadevi

This place is named after a Kali (Kalika Devi) temple which was relocated to this area from Mahim.

Kurla

Derives its name from 'Kurli', meaning crab, which were found in abundance in the marshy areas surrounding the area.

Mahim

This is derived from the word Mahi, meaning earth. Mahim is a corrupted form of Mahikavati, (again, derived from Mahi) the capital of the 13th century ruler Bhimdeo.

Malabar Hill

Possibly derived from the pilgrims from the 'Malabar' region (South India) who used to visit the temple (Wlakeshwar/Ban Ganga temple) atop this hill in large numbers.

Matunga

Matunga (a neighbourhood of Mahim) is supposedly the place where 13th century King Bhimdeo of Mahikavati (today's Mahim), used to station his elephants (elephants are called matanga in Sanskrit).

Parel

This is another tree-named locality of Mumbai named after the Paral or Padel (Marathi for the 'trumpet flower')

Powai

The village of Powai is named after a 10th Century temple of Godess Padmavati located on the banks of the Powai Lake (exact location being within the premises of IIT Mumbai). The ancient name of the village was Poumvi. The word Powai is a corruption of the original name by the Portuguese. It is said that the village of Powai has been in existence for over 1000 years.

Prabhadevi

Named after the temple of Shakambhari Devi, the Patron goddess of King Bhimdeo. The temple, originally built in the 12th - 13th century, was destroyed by the Portuguese and rebuilt by one Shyam Nayak (a Pathre Prabhu) in 1715. Hence, the name Prabhadevi (possibly, derived from Prabhu).

Santacruz

The name comes from the Protuguese word meaning Holy Cross. This was the name of a church that existed on the site presently occupied by the Sacred Hearts Boys School.

Sion

Sion or शीव(as it is referred to in Marathi) is derived from the Marathi word शींव (Shinva) meaning boundary. The village of Sion was the boundary between the island of Bombay and Salsette.

Vasai

Probably one of the most important places in the history of Mumbai. It was known as Bassein during its long Portuguese rule. According to Wiki, the name “Vasai” appears on stone inscriptions in the Kanheri Cave writings and as "Vasya" in the Karla Cave inscriptions. Vasai is mentioned as “Bussy” in Ain-I-Akbari. Vasai was the seat of the various political powers such as the Peshwas, Mughals, Portuguese and the English.

The Treaty of Bassein was an important landmark in the history of British supremacy in India. Bajiro II, the late 18th - early 19th century Maratha ruler, was seeking refuge in Bassein after the Battle of Poona. To restore his Peshwaship, he had to agree to this Subsidiary Alliance that empowered the English to station 6,000 soldiers in the region against a payment of two and a half million ruppes to the East India Company as protection money. The treaty was intrumental in the downfall of the Maratha Empire.

Such historical importance, and I always thought of Vasai as just some far flung suburb of Mumbai.

Virar

Virar derives its name from the Eka Veera Devi temple, also called the Jivdani Mata. Legend has it that Pandavas visited the temple and carved out caves there (now called Pandav Dongri)

Ville Parle

Ville Parle was originally a set of two villages Idla (probably what is called Irla now in Ville Parle West, the house of the famous Alfa market) and Padla. Quite contrary to the belief that the suburb is named after the Parle Biscuit factory, it in fact is the other way round.

Worli

Worli is derived from Varli. Varli in Marathi means upper, relating to the northern location of the Varli islands with regards to Bombay.

And as for Vashi, am still looking for an answer!

On loosing half a grand

The other day, I withdrew 1K from the ATM before my swimming session (Oh Yes! Yes! Yes! I have joined swimming at the elite Hiranandani Club) and my mind said I shouldn't have withdrawn this big an amount. After all, my wallet would be lying there in the changing room and anyone could have access to it. But, I took my chances and here I am poorer by half the amount I withdrew.
It feels so helpless when you loose your money. The last time I felt like this was when we forgot Gunjan's birthday present in a rick.
Ever since I returned home and discovered my loss, I have been wondering where did the money go. I didn't spend it, and that I am pretty sure of. I never dropped it also, or so I think. And if someone were to flick it from my wallet, why would (s)he leave half the money. May be (s)he was a vey needy person (or so, my dear friend R thinks) who just took the money (s)he needed. How considerate!
Whatever it may be, I am poorer by half a grand, and I can't help but stop thinking of my lost money, and I feel irritated, helpless and frustrated at my carelessness.

In the land of Hindi..

Hindi literature is dead. At least none of my acquaintances seem to be too enthused on reading a good Hindi novel. The Hindi section in the Crosswords and Landmarks of the World have shrunk to a small neglected shelf; often stacked with Hindi translations of bestsellers such as 'Who moved my cheese' (मेरा चीज़ किसने हटाया ).

The closest one gets to Hindi Literature now is those x-grade thriller pocket books that you get at Andheri station or the unimpressive, superfluous poetry by our generations' poets which often is a result of the upheaval in their love-life.

What could be a bigger mockery of the language and its rich literature in the land of Mahadevi, Premchand, Dinkar and Neeraj.

Off late, I have been reading essays by Mahadevi Verma(remeber the stories of "Sona Hirni" and "Gaura Gaay" by this writer we read in our school). Though, at times her, choice of words is something that would get me to take out a Hindi-to English dictionary, that does not stop me from just going on with the flow of her stories.

I have read English translations of works of Tagore, but I wonder why has there not been a translation of Mahadevi's essays. Her portrayal of life around her is so real and so much in the context even today, almost 50 years after she wrote these essays. Then be it her pets in "Mera Parivar" or her memoirs of people in "Smriti Ki Rekhayein" and "Atit Ke Chalchitra", each story is equally unique and moving (disturbing, rather).

If Chetan Bhagat can sell a million copies of his stupid stories; then Mahadeviji definitely has a much better potential. But who is listening? Hindi literature is passé. Hindi literature is dead.

Where do you belong to?

Friends, interviewers, landlords and many more inquisitive souls have often asked me this question - "Where do you belong to?" And this, has been the most difficult for me to answer and am often at loss of words to explain why.

My standard answer now is - "I belong to nowhere, I belong to India". Nah! am not a patriotic guy, but this is the best that I can describe my belonging-ness.

What adds to the woes is that even my paternal family has had two bases. My late Grandfather shifted base from Allahabad to Agra after his retirement.
So, technically I am from Agra; but I have never really lived there. Even my father hasn't (Though, am not sure as to where my dad thinks he belongs to.). And, I hardly know anything about Agra apart from Taj Mahal and Swami Bagh.

I was born in Allahabd. Spent my toddler-hood there and have very faint memories. My maternal family stays in Allahabad but it stops at that. I have always been a visitor to this city. Earlier it was to spend the summer vacations at grandparent's and later on (when I started working) to attend weddings and other such family get-togethers. In all these 27 years of life, I would have ventured outside the confines of Civil Lines barely twice. So, I think I don't even qualify to be an Allahabadi.

I can say that I am from UP, but am not aware of the geography of the state. I don't even know if Muzaffarpur neighbours Mirzapur or if Firozabad is close to Muradabad.

Till about two years back, I would have said I am from Ahmedabad. But after my parents shifted their base to NCR I can't even say this, though my permanent address continues to be 34-Sona Mahal.... Alas! am no more an Amdavadi also, though my heart dwells in that city.

I thought the best answer to this question could be Delhi but that also doesn't work out for me. For my parents don't stay in Delhi (They stay in the NCR) and am as unaware of Delhi's geography as am of Uttar Prdesh's. So, if one were to tell me they stay in Pitampura, my expression would remain the same if they would have mentioned Greater Kailash or Rohini or Munirka. Ah! It is not Delhi either. Neither is it the NCR.

Thus, even though my father grew up in Allahabad, shifted to Agra later; my mother belongs to Allahabad; we have our property in Ahmedabad, and my parents are now sort of settled in the NCR, I don't belong to any of these places.

I belong to India!

A blue bunch in a May & Baker's box

A blue bunch of old letters in a May & Baker's tin box on a shelf in the store is probably is a prized collection for my mother, especially today when Nani is no more with us. I remember when mummy had a tendon fracture on her right thumb, the first words that she tried writing after her operation were - प्यारी मम्मी . That used to be the opening of each letter!

Usually, Nani would use up the entire space on that letter; not even sparing the margins in her smaller-than-Arial-font-size-8 handwriting. One would need a magnifying lens to read it, but not mummy. She knew where the page was to be turned over and which fold to look for to complete the last sentence. Nani would write about the maid who had relinquished the post (after all they are also Ranis of a different sort), or the new sweater she is knitting for us, or the weather, or her heath, or the latest wedding in Allahabad, or wish us on our birthdays, or congratulate us for good marks; among many other things. Nani's letters would often have english words and that would amaze me. Her letters would also mention how much she is waiting for the summer holidays and our visiting them.

Occasionally, Nana would also get some space to scribble his blessings. The last haalf page is what Nani would offer him. He would be generous with his usage of space, quite unlike Nani but his handwriting being that of a doctor's also used to be illegible for us.

Of course, there would be delays in receiving letters. Often we would receive the letter mummy last wrote to Nani after we had reached Allahabad.

Those were the days when we did not even have the now forgotten BSNL land line connection. The frequency of exchange of letters dwindled as we got our personal connection and BSNL introduced the India Calling Card. Old age also made it difficult for Nani to continue writing the letters. Her writing had become increasingly illegible towards the last of the letters she wrote. Telephone and later on Nana's cell phone completely replaced the letters; though Nani was never too good at talking over the phone.

When I think of it now, I feel how much more connected were we in those days when news used to take weeks to travel as against now when we are just a phone-call away. The wait for a letter was something that kept us in each others mind and hearts; somethiing that emails can never replicate.

At least there were no error messages saying BAD BAD SERVER! NO DONUTS FOR YOU!

We knew, well in advance, that Nani would already be busy preparing the lovely katahal ka achaar and aatey ke laddo for us to be savoured in the summer vacations! They definitely tasted better than today's donuts!!

Of Ramlal, food, music, literature and celebrity spotting

It is very rare that you get to enjoy literature, good food, theatre and celebrity spotting; all at one go; under one roof. If you are wondering what place am talking about, just walk into the compound of Prithvi Theatre.
Tucked away in the calm surroundings of Janki Kutir, at a stone's throw from the hustle bustle of neighbouring Juhu beach, Prithvi is an art lover's paradise and I am in love with this beautiful place.

When at Prithvi, one has so many options to explore that time seems to fly by.

We (Me and R) went for a play "Salesman Ramlal" starring Satish Kaushik and Seema Biswas. The play has a somber story revolving around the life of a common salesman - Ramlal (played by Satish) who like many of us, dreams of making it big. Ramlal's entire life is a mirage and it comes crashing one day. Though there is absolutely no positive note in the story, it does gets us to realise that "(इंसान के ) कुछ न होने में कुछ गलत नहीं " (There is nothing wrong in being a mediocre). The problem is in not accepting the reality and chasing the mirage. Seema Biswas’ and Satish Kaushik’s performances are impeccable as the husband-wife duo.

If theatre is not your muse, the Prithvi Cafe - an open air cafe - is a great place with its reasonable prices and the modest spread of appetising preparations. And if you are looking for that "something more"; look no more. Just look around; and the flute rendition by a sexagenarian seated under a banyan tree - Suhas Joshi (an architect by profession) - is something that would definitely take you to a different world.

If you are still yearning for more, Prithvi also offers its visitors a quaint book-store which houses one of the most amazing collections of literature. I am in love with their collection of Hindi authors.

You also get to spot many celebrities enjoying a cuppa at Prithvi. Me and R were able to spot Makarand Deshpande (the Fakir in Swades), Vrajesh Hirjee (the Anthony Gonzalves in Golmal Returns) and Madhurjeet Sarghi (Santosh Bhabhi from Na aana iss des….). There were many more known faces whom you could remember but not recall where were they seen last on the silver screen.

Prithvi is untouched by time. It belongs to an era bygone!

Do I look as if I care??

Many a times, in life, we create notions. About things, people and situations. Often there is no logic(or perhaps there is!) and we don't give a D*** to what others think of them.
Here goes my list, read on...
1) Gujarat is the best state (and Ahmedabad the best city) to live in. No, any amount of arguments (not even the Godhra Kaand) will not change my stand.
2) Branded doesn't mean it's always worth it. I don't think highly of Provogue as a shoe company or of Woodlands as an apparel company; nor is a 1000 rupees worth backpack from Adidas (after discount, of course) any better than the 200 rupees worth bag I bought from Bandra (it has lasted me over two years now). Titan is a good enough watch brand for me. I had never heard of "Police" and "Davidoff" before I came to Mumbai.
3) I don't need to change my phone every two years. No, I don't think I need a swanky cell phone to cast a lasting impression on a client.
4) I don't have an overstock of shirts. Yes, I have over 50 shirts and No, am not going to not buy any more!!
5) I am okay with the shades I bought from a street-side stall. No, I don't trust the claims of UV protection being made by most branded eyewears!
6) Yes, I love my green belt. And my Red shoes. And no, by no means are they a fashion disaster.
7) No, my jeans is not a li'l too slim. I like it this way. It's my jeans anyway, why would you care!!
8) Yes, these are cowboy shoes that I wear to my office. And my office is in the Arabian Ranches!!!
9) Maroon or Purple is a (shirt) colour to be worn to office. As is blue, beige, white and grey!
10) I look around in a zillion shops for that perfect bargain. It is fine if you won't accompany me for my shopping. I take a lot of time to choose. I may not choose anything, as a matter of fact!
11) Lemon soda is a waste of money at a fine dining restaurant. Now you know what not to order when I throw a birthday party!
12) No, I don't get tired of going to South Bombay. And Yes! I like to call it Bombay. South Mumbai sounds pretty shady!!
13) Yes, I remember each penny that goes out of my pocket. And I won't mind if you walked up to me to ask for what I owe you. It's your money afterall!
14) Yes, I like gossip. And no, I don't beleive that you don't.
15) Mughal-e-Azam is a great movie. And Madhubala is the most beautiful actress of all times.
16) Yes I watch Utran, Na anaa... and any other daily soap that you can think of. No, I did not follow IPL.
17) I hate it when you ask me if I remember you. I may not call you or mail you often. I may not even keep you updated of the latest happenings in my life (read my engagement), but If you were ever friends with me, I remember you with all my heart and warmth.
18) No, you cannot borrow all my things. Am attached to many of my belongings and would not like you to use them without me knowing about it. No, I don't trust your material handling skills!
19) No, I don't go home too often. Once in two months is pretty normal. What else do you earn for if you cannot be with them on festivities!
20) Yes, that is a chikaankari kurta that I wear. And no, its not too transparent!

Am sure this list can be endless... Do let me know if you know something about me which I don't. I never had a good score on my Johari Window excercise!

Of Mumbai, friends, birthdays and stray dogs

Mumbai
It is a city of dreams, glitter, local trains, fast life, slumdogs and millionares. Though I love every bit of my stay in this city, which I would prefer call by its maiden name - Bombay, I was rather disappointed when my parents told me that they found "Apnu Amdavad" better compared to this "Maximum City". Guess Bombay put all its efforts just being called Mumbai and Karnavati never minded being the uber-metropolitan and well planned Amdavad.

Friends
Mumbai (Bombay) has given me my share of some very close friends. As much as I would like to write in the names, I would not like to succumb to the temptation lest I forget a name and regret it later.
We have shared innumberable laughs and bucket full of tears. We have been there for each other when we celebrated our birthdays and promotions; during break-ups and during the engagements; while shifting our houses to cooking yummy meals together; in enjoying the street food at midnight on the Juhu beach when someone's parents were visiting or in the times when someone hasn't got the big bonus they were expecting.
Thanks guys (and gals) for being there. You are a BIG support system here!!

Birthdays
Birthdays are always special.
I just returned from Tushar's place after wishing him a Happy Birthday. It was fun. We literally had a virtual party. Wouldn't get into the nitty gritties but me and Ruchika (one of the virtual participants) had a good time with Tushar. After a long time we wished someone Happy Birthday the XIMB way.
We, me and the bunch of friends that I have here, have always been innovaitive in the midnight celebrations. Then be it cutting a Pizza on Marine Drive (Am sure, Ruchika you would remember this all your life) or literally running out of air blowing the magic candles!

Stray Dogs
An obscure topic to talk about, but then a stray dog (even worse would be a bunch of them) chasing your motorcycle in the dead of the night on a dark road is the last thing you would like to encounter as you return home after a long day at work. I was reminded of many such wild chases I have had while I was retuning home from Tushar's place today. Each dog on the road was (and there were tens of them) a potential threat. Thank God, none of them tried racing with me else I would have had to zoom my poor bike (its an old 100 cc TVS) at whatever gear it was in with my legs up in the air!!!

All in a day's work

Read this old joke somewhere.. guess on a friend's Gtalk status message, and enjoyed it.
It read
"My company pretends to pay me and I pretend to work" :)

Musicals

Though I generally like all movies I watch, there are some musicals that are my favourite and I think I can watch them over and over again.

My Fair Lady - The movie, based on GB Shaw's Pygmalion is a visual and aural treat. Audrey Hepburn is phenomenal as Eliza Doolittle and so is Reg Livermore as Professor Henry Higgins. I just love the song 'I could have danced all night' and the use of alliteration such as 'The rain in Spain stays mainly in the plain'. Other songs such as 'Just you wait Henry Higgins, just you wait' is equally witty.

Manpasand - Closer home, our own Bollywood has made a remake of My Fair Lady starring Tina Munim and Dev Anand. This movie also has an amazing sound track with songs like 'charu chandra ki chanchal chitwan' that are on the lines of use of alliteration in the English version and the title song 'pankh bina udoo' which is the Hindi version of 'I could have danced all night'.

Thoda Sa Rumani Ho Jayein - This 1990 musical stars Anita Kanwar (of Lajoji fame from Buniyaad) and Nana Patekar. The movie compares a beautiful parallel of drought in a town to the drought in the lives of the movie's characters. Nana Patekar plays a rain seller (incidentally, many claim this movie is also a inspired by a Hollywood movie Rain Maker) who is able to get the rain back in the life of Anita Kanwar. Songs like 'Nanhi si Silu' celebrating the imending motherhood, 'main sundar hoon' celebrating moment of self realisation by Anita Kanwar, 'Do ghaton ke beech' celebrating victory over inhibitions and 'Thoda sa rumani ho jayein' celebrating victory over dismay are heart touching and leave a deep impact. Kanwar has done a class act in portraying the life of a not-so-charming-girl-nextdoors Binni Rai.

Morning Raga - Shabana Aazmi steals the show here. The movie is about Swarnalatha (played by Shabana), whos is a budding artist, who has taken to believe that she is the cause of death of her childhood friend and quits singing. The plot goes on to bring music back in Swarnlatha when her dead friend's son comes to her for a recording. Songs like 'Mahaganpati' and 'Thaye Yashoda' are a superb blend of Karnatic and Western music.

Sardari Begum - This movie is the cause of this entire post that I am writing at such an odd hour. The story which has Kiron Kher playing the main protagonist is a lovely story of a once famous thumri singer. The movie runs in a flashback after Sardari Begum dies in a minor religious tiff. What ensues is a reporter's (who also gets to know that she is the neice of Sardari Begum) further research into the life of the singer through interviews with people around Sardari. This movie would delight those who have an ear for thumri. If you ever enjoyed 'Piya tora kaisa abhimaan' from Raincoat, you would not be disappointed by songs in this movie.

Sound of Music - Julie Andrews is the show stealer. This cropped hair nun-to-be comes into the lives of a widowed naval captain's family as a governess to his children and overturns their monotonous routine. The plot is interesting with a hint at the pre-world war II Nazi era as well. 'Doe-a-deer' from this movie is the song which all of us have known since our childhoods. 'Edelweiss', 'My favourite things', 'How do we solve a problem like Maria', 'So long, farewell, auf weidersehen, good bye' are treat to one's ears.

As I write this post am reliving the experience which I have enjoyed I don't know how many times now. Though I wouldn't recommend these as a must-watch but they are an absolute treat for any 'parallel cinema' lover.

To any of you who may plan to watch any of these, just a word of caution. Do not watch these with a big group. You would end up listening more of 'uff yeh kya ho raha hai...fir ganaaaaa..nahinnn' rather than the film's musical score....

The view from my window

I love coffee.
Though I 'm not a big fan of CCD but am loving this coffee here. What makes me love this horrendously overpriced coffee at the airport is the view from the window.

I can see the planes landing and taking off at a distance. The whole place is lit up with thousands of twinkling lights. And, I am sitting in this cozy little corner sipping my hot café latte along with some not-so-great samosas.

Ah! there comes the announcement. Flight 452 is boarding, and off I am to home for one chilly weekend in the otherwise subdued winters of Mumbai!!!

Broken Images - Indeed!!!

I was taught in my childhood that one should never scribble over books, which I was following untill I met this veteran actress - Shabana Azmi.

I am usually a no-autograph-for-me-please-type person, but I don't know why I felt like asking Shabana (sorry can't call her Shabanaji for various reasons) for one. What followed is a lesson for life.

We (Me and two other friends from XIMB days) had gone for this new play by Girish Karnad - Broken Images.

The play arose some interest in me for two reasons: 1) Shabana Azmi, the protagonist; and 2) Use of technology.

The plot of the play is simple and yet has a suspense that unfolds beautifully towards the end. Manjula Sharma (played by Shabana) is an English lecturer and a small time Hindi writer till she comes up with her magnum opus - a novel in English which becomes a worldwide bestseller. Manjula is at a TV studio launching her book in India when she gets face to face with her conscience. What follows is a dialogue between the two that takes us through Manjula's life and her eventual breakdown in front of her own self.

Shabana Azmi, as anyone would have guessed, was superb.

What added more stars to the act is that the Shabana's conscience was also played by Shabana albeit through a pre-recorded video being played on a large plasma TV. There was perfect coordination between the video and Shabana just as it would have been between two actors.

The play got over and as we were walking out, my friend started bugging me with her whimsical whim to meet Shabana in flesh and blood. I ignored it completely and soon we were standing out in the crowd doing some star gazing (the smalltime actors of tellytown were there to make their presence felt in the social circles, but no-one seemed to be noticing them except us). But this lady's urge to meet Shabana was so strong that she cajoled my other friend to get back to the green room and meet her dear actress, while I waited downstairs for both of them to be shooed away by the guard.

Quite a few minutes passed by and there was no sign of the two of them. I was getting curious, so I also decided to join them. To my astonishment I found the duo engrossed in a blah-blah that Alyque Padmsee was delivering in some strange accent. Shabana was nowhere around till this friend of mine decided to venture in the green room. The assistant informed she would be coming out soon. Suddenly the door opened and there was a little commotion. It took us quite some time to realize we were standing next to Shabana.

My friend didn't loose a moment to "catch hold of" her dear actress and congratulate her for the lovely performance. This poor little girl had thought Shabana would be all ooh-aah at her praise. Instead she got a cold response. Shabana scribbled her illegible signature on a book that my friend was carrying without even looking up in her eyes.

It is precisely at this moment when I suddenly felt this inner urge to get rid of my habit of keeping my books clean. I dug out a copy of Pather Panchali that I had purchased barely an hour ago and slyly forwarded it. Her hands once again moved in the same mechanical movements to scribble.

Once I had the book back in my hands, I realised my mistake. I felt like tearing off the page or throwing the book away. Alas! I could not do so. I had purchased it from my own hard earned money. It would always stand as a testimony to my fallen self respect in front of a damsel from the tinsel town.

This page, dirtied by the illegible signature of Shabana, would always remind me to continue to be a no-autograph-for-me-please-type person.

I would always remember those words from Shabana, as she climbed down a flight (just one flight) of stairs - "Yahan lift nahin hai kya".

I wish Shabana would not have said this. I wish she would have at least looked up in my eyes for one moment as she scribbled on my book. I wish she would have courteously replied, or at least smiled, to my friend’s wishes.

Then, I would have never minded calling her Shabanaji.

Another year and they will call it Twenty-Ten!

I had posted this long back, almost a year back. A friend of mine asked me "Has anything changed, or you can still use the same post for this year"

The other day, I sent a mail to everyone in office inviting them to a small celebration that we had organised in office on the New Year's eve. The mail had a line that read "a year full of sweet memories..." and my colleague commented "are you sure (of the sweet memories)".

Am still trying to find answers to these two questions.

Yes, many things have not changed.. but some things have, and for the good!
And the year may not be full of good memories, but it wasn't that gloomy either.

When I sit back and count, there were more reasons to be happy that to crib about.

Home bound always!! I was home on all festivals and important occassions :)

Marriages Galore!! Three of my very good friends got married, and I could attend the wedding of at least one of them.

Two of my cousins also got married (looks like the entire year went away in marriages) and I thoroughly enjoyed the family reunions.

That one SMS. A friend made me realise the value of friendship through that simple SMS
that she sent while she was exchanging the marital vows with her beloved.

Pooo....My long time friend in the US of A is still in touch with me and we still share the same warmth.

Dube the painter. Friends gave me an amazing gift on my birthday.

Still stuck to Mahavir Classik. and I am loving it!! :)

That lovely 5-star dinner. And what a lovely time we had that night! Thanks Tushar and Ruchika for a memorable evening.

The Voice & Accent training. Learnt how your teeth need to pain(t) the tongue when you are saying "thank you" and that I have to bite my V's and kiss my W's. Crazy stuff!!

The unionbaazi at office. Though our lunch table has shrunk to three members for erstwhile figre of four, the unionbaazi continues. We have found some new members who have the potential to be a part of our union :)

While my mind has probably given up at this hour, I am sure there would have been a thousand other instances that would be a part of my happy memories for 2009. Not that I did not have my share of not-so-good memories, but what is the point is crying over spilt milk :)

A lesson from a cook

I crib a lot.
On various issues.
I often find myself underpaid, overworked, underutilised, over strained, underestimated, etc etc etc. More often than not things get down to money and the salaries we draw. We hardly think about the innumerable gifts that we are enjoying in our current lives.

The very reason am writing this post today is my small chat with my cook today.

A stone faced lady, that she is, Chhayabai was in a little talkative mood today. So, while I made myself a cup of hot milk she asked me about my family and other generic stuff. I chipped in to ask her about her children and pat came the reply "dono ghar pe rehte hain pagalon ki tarah". This wasn't the reply that I had expected. Then she told me her story. She has two children and both suffer from mental disorders. She told me that her daughter has problem with her memory and does not remember anything, so she is home. Then she told me the story of her son. Probably a guy of my age, may be a little younger. He was a normal schhol going kid till the age of twelve. And then he met with a rail accident after which he has not been able to walk properly. While she told me her tale of sorrow I was constantly looking in her eyes to find that moist corner. I could already feel the goosepimples on my hands, but her eyes remained dry.
They had a sparkle, on the contrary.
She was telling me how bright a student her son was. That they had put him in a good English Medium school and had arranged computer lessons for him. She was probably reliving those happy days as she narrated me the story.
I didn't know how to react. In the entire conversation, not once did she try to evoke sympathy for us.
For once, I realised the true meaning of an essay I had written long time back in school - "Health is Wealth". My father had asked me to add these closing lines : Health is Wealth, but Wealth certainly is not Health.

Nostalgia - Served hot on the platter!!

We met after a long time - Me and T. It was a long day at work and I was counting each second. As soon I wrapped up I and was at the basement, just about to give that first kick to my motorcycles, I remembered that I had forgotten to mention something important in my past mail to my client. So, back I went; frustrated and cursing myself for being so careless. As soon as my mailbox’s sent items folder confirmed that my mail was out from our server, I ran back to the casement with the cake (it was A’s birthday as well) in one hand to rush home, lest T would have to wait outside (as indeed it turned out to be).

When I reached my apartment I saw T standing there, may be cursing me for not being thereJ.

Before I proceed, let me also describe the commonalities that I share with T. Me and T were the part of the same conglomerate before wee joined the MBA course at XIMB. We were neighbours during the two year course. We did our summers in the same company and got the final placements in the same company.

But now T is moving out (as S did a week back) and is shifting his base to Mumbai. It was in this regard that T was visiting Mumbai for a short duration over the weekend. So after the day’s work we met like long lost friends and had so much to catch up. Post the birthday kicks to A, I shifted with T to his hotel, where our banter continued till late in the night.

The following morning we had the regale breakfast at the hotel. All thanks to T and his new employer J The evening was packed with good times and nostalgia. R had come over and the three of us chatted over a long dinner at the hotel. The discussions meandered from our current bosses to former friends; from our future life partners to the friends getting married; and from our roommates to life in Mumbai. The food was good and was unlimited. We had everything from soup and breads, salads, pasta, pizza, noodles, fried rice to even our very own aloo paratha. The “icing on the cake” were the desserts. We would have tasted some 15 variety of desserts that night!! While we were savoring the desserts it was getting late for R. So we decided to drop her back home. This gave us some more time to sit and chat. None of us was in a hurry and we simply did not want this dinner to end. When the service staff came over to tell us that it was close to their closing time, we proceeded for our final course of our lovely meal. The ice-creams! R was super-excited and created a very personalized scoop which we ate to our heart’s delight. Thanks T for that great dinner treat!!

And then came the goodbyes!! We dropped R to her home and then tucked ourselves to a peaceful slumber. The next morning saw us at the same place, where we had our dinner, munching away some bread over the breakfast.

It was around 10 or 11 when T checked out to meet another friend who was visiting Mumbai. I bade him farewell with the wish to see him soon in Mumbai and have more such (may be not this lavish) dinners!!

Thanks again to T for the treat.

A "Union" disintegrates

"S" has quit the company and that leaves only the three of us at the lunch table. Till now, even if one of us was on leave it would be a crowd of three having lunch and the post lunch walk. But, now onwards, on such occassions it would just be the company of two.

Over the past 18 months, we have shared everything from personal life to professional life over the lunch and snacks sessions. We have played pranks; been more-than-often to the nearby Naturals for those ice-cream breaks; celebrated birthdays and weddings; and shared our thoughts about others rather loudly.

While S moves on to be with her dear P, we wish her a great life ahed. We will miss her in our very dear "Majboor Union" of Four.....

The cattle class and the poor little minister

A train rams into another near Mathura killing some 30 people (that is the official figure) and Ms. Mamta Banerjee immediately announces a 5 lakh compensation for the family members of the victims. What else could have Ms. Banerjee done? This is not a dharna of which she has an expertise, nor is this a Lok Sabha session where she screams with elance. We are dealing with people here, whom she represents, and that is something that our poor little Railway Minister has got no experience.

The authorities are investigating the cause of the accident, or so they are saying. Soon, Ms Banerjee would set up a commission to prepare a report on the incident. And we all know what will happen next. The report would never be out and the dead would be forgotten as they have always been in the past. After all, we are the “cattle class” and why bother for the cattle when you have other greener pastures to attend to!

The Kali Shoe

When I stumbled upon this website called zazzle.co.uk I was first amazed at their product offering. The website allows you to create your own designs online. But I was appalled, when I came across one particular design - the "Kali Hindu Goddess Shoes". The designer has crossed all limits of cultural sensitivity by putting the image of a Kali-like figure on the shoes.

Wonder where have all the activists gone who had vandalised M.F Hussain's art works when he had "supposedly" portrayed the Hindu Goddesses in nude.

The Invisible Gift

Never in my life would I have felt this blank as all of us did after we got off from the rickshaw that Saturday night.
We had been invited to a friend's house over dinner cum birthday treat. As is customary, we - me, A and R - had a bag of goodies as a gift for our host for the night. We got a rick and were chit chatting all the way to Mulund, where we had to change to another rickshaw to reach G's house in Thane.
I called up G when we reached Mulund that we are standing in a queue to get a rickshaw to Thane. This (queue), in our view, was the most absurd thing that we had come across that day - at least till that point in time.
Our turn came pretty quickly and soon we were trotting all the way to G's home. Half way through I called up G to tell her that we would be reaching in another 10 minutes.
As we got down from the rickshaw, and I was settling the bill, A asked the BIG QUESTION "Where is the bag?"
In all this rickshaw hunting and queuing up, we had conveniently forgotten about the gift which we had left in the first rickshaw.
My mind went blank.
This rickwallah was saying aomething about change and I son't remember how much I gave him over the fare.
I was still blank.
As we made way to G's house I could see the disappointment on A's face and astonishment on R's face. We could not believe we had done this, and there was no way that we could trace the rickshaw back.
We went up to G's house and were greeted by the warm smiles of G and her mom and grandmom.
The jaws dropped when they heard our deeds and we got our share of scoldings from Maanti (as A and G call her) and G's mom.
For G, we had nothing but an invisible bag from Lifestyle, an odourless perfume by Marks & Spencer and a colourless eyeshadow pack by Maybelline. Guess G would not have been too happy flaunting these.. neither we gifting them to her.

Ganpati Bappa Morya, Pudhchya Varshi Lavkarya

And then it rained, like it had never before in the past few days. It was a sign of good omen. The skies had finally relented to the cries of the people. May be, it was the final gift that Ganapati wanted to give to his devotees.
It was the tenth day of Ganapati celebrations. The last day. The lake near my home - the Powai Lake - was a busy place. This Ganapati, though I had all plans to visit one of the pandals, I decided otherwise - thanks to the flu of the Swine. But then one could not have missed the grand visarjan ceremony.
As if, the waters of the lake were not sufficient, there was a great sea of humanity that was thronging the ghats to bid farewell to its favourite God; and one could see hundreds of statues floating amidst this sea of thousands of devotees. It was a joyous and mystic atmosphere all around.
The dhak of the dhols, the glare of spotlights, the blaring bollywood numbers, the soft-tonned aartis, the loud slogans and the messemerizingly beautiful statues took you to a different world altogether. After a good long walk and a dekho at all the murtis and a memory card full load of photographs we headed home.... and just as we entered the apartment, it started pouring heavily... May be, Ganapati was showering his blessings on us!

Some beautiful moments my friend "A" captured on his camera.....

"Is that a halo, or am I dazed by your divine presence"


"Even the mouse is so cute"


"I pray to thee, oh lord!"

"A hand from all"

"Am holding your hands"





"You are under my umbrella"



"Rest your tired bodies on me, am here for you"


"The sea of humanity"

"Divine"

"The Golden Ganapati"

"A closer look"

(C) All photographs are courtesy Amol.