Malishwalas of Bombay

They appear usually at the brink of dusk and squeeze out the tensions and worries of the tired souls. They aren’t any Counselors or Angels but they are the Malishwalas of Bombay.You will usually find them seated on the banks of popular sea shores, whether its Chowpatty, Juhu beach and ofcourse Carter Road.Some of them will be walking around with a tray of oil boxes and chattais, and if they think you are a potential customer they will approach you and tell you about the various types of Malish that they can offer you. Obviously their main clientele is only men, however,women too have started taking some of their services, just like I got a foot massage from one of them at Carter road the other day.


The Malishwala connection

Malishwalas are people,who I had heard about all my life.Infact the Malishwalas of Chowpatty are also an integral part of my Birth story.

It was a dark winter night 21 Jan 1982 to be precise ,Pa was already tired and frustrated with the fact that I wasn’t coming out, He had made Ma,walk for more than an hour in the balcony of the hospital( I was to be born) facing the Queens Necklace,without any success. Having given up on getting any result that day, Pa walked down to the Ideal Corner restaurant, grabbed a beer and decided to unwind by getting his favourite Malish on the beach. As the masseur massaged his tired legs and head he starred at the stars and wondered in amazement how his first child would be.He wished it would be a girl,a girl who he could design exquisite dresses for, a girl who he could weave all his dreams into.Pa had always wanted his first child to be a daughter for some reason. At the end of that relaxing malish session,it was almost quarter past midnight and Pa thought it was a good idea to just drop by at the hospital before he went home just incase there was some development. Indeed Ma, had got her labour pains, and Pa was standing right next to her, the reluctant fool, I was I just wasn’t willing to come out, finally I did and when the doctor announced it was a girl, Pa just could not help but jump up in excitement,while my Nani (Mom`s Mother) who still subscribed to the old school thought in the 80`s, was quite grim with the addition of another granddaughter in her family.

Obviously, the Malishwalas had earned themselves a role in my birth story, but Pa, who himself was connoisseur of Champi Malish,ensured that I was introduced to the craft, as he would always Malish my head with oil.When I was younger I hated it, coz I hated putting oil in my hair, but when I was in college I liked it, it seemed so nice as it calmed my tired nerves, and then when I longed for it, my Malishwala, Pa was not there anymore and the magic of his champi fingers will remain only as beautiful memory in time


My Malishwala Encounter

One evening, after dinner me along with my friends were sitting at Carter road. My friends, who I suspect having some connection to the vampirish bahus of the sas bhi bahu soap operas who are always conspiring something against the other bahu, kept pestering me to get a malish done from one of the malishwalas walking across the promenade. With my tired feet, I was quite tempted, but part of me did not want to agree to the conspiring bahus and also a conservative part of me thought it wasn’t such a good idea to get your foot massaged in the middle of the road.

But finally my tired feet gave up, and we called one of the malishwalas. The foot massage was ok but what I really liked, is the vati malish, where they spread oil on the palm of your feet and rub the vati on it. It’s the most relaxing massage for 30 bucks. So next time you are on Carter road, and if you want to get your feet relaxed get the vati malish for 30 bucks. The Malishwala told me he was from Agra, and they usually sleep during the day and come here only in the evenings for their business.

Delhi Ki Diwali

The wide roads like welcoming hands, the striking monuments that stand as landmarks of our glorious past,the variety of scrumptious cuisines that innovate their style in the form of Delhi`s own cusine, the old city charm outlined with the fading ancient architecture,the chaotic Delhi traffic where everyone from the buswala, to the cycle rickshawdriver fight even for one inch of space on the road, to the completely lost and hostile attitude of delhiwalas( especially when u ask for directions).Delhi as a city has always fascinated me for the sheer character that it brings with it, giving me an opportunity to discover something new on every single trip I have made to Delhi. Here is memoir on my Delhi ki Diwali.

Since most of my family was going to be in Delhi for Diwali, I too joined the bandwagon and took the first train out what with the soaring air ticket prices. Getting a train ticket also needed some Jugad with the travel agent.

Public Transport in Gurgaon

If you do not have your transport in Gurgaon traveling around could be a problem.Local Public transportation in Gurgaon is restricted to cycle rickshaws,the motor rickshaw and some buses.
The Motor rickshaw is a 6 seater rickshaw, where usually more than 10 people pile up to take a ride for a nominal fare of Rs 5.Stuck without a driver, I too took a ride on one of these rickshaws, the rickshaw driver was so astonished, that he starred at me for a minute till he allowed me to sit in his rickshaw.

Street food in Gurgaon

I never realized that street food in Gurgaon would be so interesting.Neatly layed out in small laris as they call it parked outside all the big malls,the smell of kulchas, samosas, kachoris being fried, amidst the light evening winter breeze will definitely stir your appetite for quick grub. The street food stalls will offer you, Kulcha paratha, Chole bathuras, Samosa chat and variety of other chats, golgappas,Kachoris, Chowmein, Kathi rolls and Mumbai ka famous burger. I decided to dip my appetite with Mumbai ka famous burger.
I chatted with the stall owner, and asked him how he discovered this burger since living in Bombay all my life I haven’t ever seen it. He smiles shyly and tells me "Madam yeah to pata, nahi lekin yeah burger variety to Bombay saih hai na isliye nam de diya".
The burger is made of small potato patty a slice of potato which he deep fries in besan,. The burger bread is a small tiny bun, he puts the potato patty, onion and big piece of freshly cut panner er then just dips the bun in hot oil frying pan . For 5 bucks its good value for money but it has not connection with Bombay, the only Bombay connection that I could get is a friend of mine who would have loved this burger simply coz of the Paneer

Tentwalas of Haryana

We decided to bring in our New year by inviting cousins, aunts and uncles over for the typical Gujrati jammanvar at home. A jammanvar is usually a sit-down lunch, where long tables are layed out and food is served to you on the table. My aunt has a big dinning room, but in order to fit 35 people for a sit down lunch, we definitely needed to hire tables and chairs. So one lazy morning, myself and Mukesh the driver went around Gurgaon`s chaotic market Chakarpur to look for the tentwalas. As we walk towards the tentwala shop, I have this wonderful imagery of meeting some interesting tentwala like Dubeyji from Monsoon wedding.
On our first stop we are greeted by a hostile owner who seems least interested in renting out his chairs or tables. After asking him about 3 times the guy says,
"Bhej denge, address likh do".I enquire about the kind of chairs, and table cloth he would send us. After much coaxing he replies and says we have white only, nothing else. I tell him we need some colorful table cloths and bows for the chairs. I finally give up on this guy, and tell Mukesh we should look for someone else since this fellow is list bothered. The second tentwala we visit, has his shop with his house, and I guess we wake him from his slumber when we knock the door. Even before we enquire further, he says he is on holiday till Diwali, so he will not be doing any business. Have you ever heard of a tentwala who decides to sleep during peak business season. I hope my friend, who runs a decorators business in Mumbai, doesn’t get inspired by this lazy tentwala
Mukesh tells me that this small time businessmen in Gurgaon are least interested in doing any business, they have already made crores of money by selling their land to the builders, they are involved in this business merely for time pass so customer service, business growth are concepts alien to them. Since we cant find anything in Chakarpur, we go further to Sikanderpur market, where after passing through some dingy shops we reach a very dirty looking shop called Shagun Tentawala. The people in the shop are busy watching a movie over a tilted TV placed on a tilted shelf. Finally we get the owners attention out from the movie, juggling between 2 phone calls, with the least interes, the guy takes my order. Obviously 8am in the morning is something the tentwala has never heard in his life, so I tell him to send me the chairs and tables the previous night itself and I hope that the dude delivers the chairs and tables on time.

Killer Blue line Bus

After visiting my cousins at Vasant Kunj, I decided to go to Chandni Chowk Via 605 blueline bus from Vasant Kunj. The bus was surprisingly empty and compared to our BEST buses; it was quite dirty and dimly lit, more like our bad ST buses. It was only six in the evening, but with winter set in it has already become dark. As the bus moved ahead I realized I was the only women sitting in that bus and all the men traveling by it were the typical worker class. The conversations in the background were spiced with gallis, and I hoped to learn some new, but they were using the same old ones. A part of me was a little scared, but the other part of me said that even if I was traveling by a rickshaw, I would have been equally safe or unsafe, and the bus was definitely a better option with more people. A very casually dressed mavali sort of dude dressed in jhatak tracks and t-shirts came towards me to sell the bus ticket. I had always imagined bus conductors to be dressed in uniforms,but blue line conductors don’t seem to have a dress code. Couple of stops later, the bus is over crowded; luckily I am sitting right in the front so I don’t have to worry about getting off. The striking feature of the Blue Line Bus ride, is that anyone can sell bus tickets on the bus. Another fellow who was sitting in front of me, suddenly got up, chatted with the mavali in track pants, took the bundle of tickets from him and started selling the tickets.The bus journey futher is quite entertaining, with a fighting couple in tamil, an arguing old man, although I am itching to get off this bus. So I get off at the Central Secretiat Metro station to board to my train to Chandni Chowk

Metros of Delhi

The Metro rail is probably one of the best things to have happened to Delhi, making traveling so easy. I have used the Metro rail earlier also, but they have never been too crowded, coz a lot of people are still reluctant to use it.Surprisingly this time I saw a lot more people using the metros, than I had before. Also the good part is that the Delhi Metro`s have been able to maintain the cleanliness levels in the trains and the stations which is definitely worth applauding.

Chandni Chowk

Chandni Chowk has always fascinated me, and no trip to Delhi is complete for me without a visit to Chandni Chowk. I love the energy and character this place has. Chandni Chowk or that road which leads to Red fort is one of the most diverse streets I have seen. It has a Gurudwara, a Church, a Mosque and even a famous temple. Its choti diwali and the atmosphere in the evening is celebratory, cars parked outside filling up their boots with last minute Diwali shopping. Cycle rickshaws ferrying people, the lights, smell of pure ghee, and jalebis and samosas being fried.I walk through one of my favourite lanes the kinaari bazaar where you can pick up fancy laces, lovely material, artifacts etc. I love walking through these tiny lanes, which are so alive and lit up with the small kandils and decorations across. After making my stop at Paratha gali, I find myself buying some really fancy gifting bags and decorative pots, and gifting cloth. This place will definitely give your Tresories and Bombay stores a run for their money, both in terms of pricing and variety

Gujarati cuisine in Delhi

Some years ago, when my cousins from the north came down to Bombay they would love to eat the khandivs, patras and dhoklas, coz they could never buy them from the local mart and making it at home would be a huge production for their mothers. So when I heard we were having the jamanavar at home, I never realized that we would only have Gujarati food. A shop called Farsan in gurgaon caters to gujrati cusine, they churned out some really good khandvis, dhoklas and undhiya for us .Well every place brings in its own flavour to the cusine, so I could say that the khandvis and Dhoklas were more or less at power with the Bombay shops, but the undhiya was slightly different, less oily and not typically sweet like the gujrati undhiyu, so I quite liked it. So next time you want to eat guju food in Delhi head to Farsan

A decade...

It was a normal hectic Monday morning and my phone beeped,A sms from a very dear friend of mine all the way from Australia, congratulating me on completing a decade of friendship which began exactly 10 years ago at 11:30a.m when we entered the first RCMC General Body meeting in college. This made me nostalgic, and I said maybe this is a good time to walk back in time and reflect on the last decade of my life.

The last decade of my life has probably been the most eventful, flooded with lots of twists and turns.Apart from growing in age and probably by a couple of pounds I have also grown as an individual. I think I have become much calmer as a person then, what I used to be ten years ago, when I had just set my foot out of school, filled with illusions of the real world, but lots of dreams and aspirations


I do remember getting my passport renewed at the passport office along with Pa and my agent,who insisted that I should take the ten years passport instead of the twenty years, as I would definitely be married within the next ten years and I would anyway need to get the name changed. I wish he had allowed me to take the twenty years passport at least it would have saved me the current hassle I am facing to get my passport renewed at least for another decade.


Joining Rotaract
This was a real turning point in my life. Infact most of the friends I ever made in college were from Rotaract It was exactly today, 27 Aug 1997 at 11:30a.m that myself and Veena entered the first ever general body meeting of RCMC.We were both apprehensive about Rotaract, and honestly when we entered the meeting room, I just thought I was at the wrong place, everything seemed so different from my school world,where I was so used to being at the forefront of all the limelight because of the activities I participated in.
Making marketing proposals, Editing Bulletins,roaming around for sponsorships, getting closer to the college principal,Rupa Shah( what with the countless hours we would spend in her cabin to get her signature),attending other Rotaract projects as far as Neral, Ulhasnagar, Churchgate( thanks to Rotaract my Bombay geography is solid),dealing with all kinds of people from the south Bombay snob clubs to the pile on eastern suburbs clubs were just few of things that Rotaract taught me. But the icing on the cake was getting my first ever summer job with a PR consultant in Bandra. Most importantly because of Rotaract I made some really good friends,who have always stood by me in my moments of joy and sorrow till today.


NSS
Joining NSS was not something I had planned to do, but it just happened by chance, I think because of a pestering professor of mine Prof Rawal who was persistent that I join NSS and do some good work. This was quite interesting coz we did a couple of social service projects( I cant even remember what) but the turning point was when, I was given the opportunity to represent the NSS junior wing of Mumbai University at the National conference in Nanded, Nagpur along with other girls from other colleges and a Prof from our college.I think this was my real tryst with reality. We were staying at this accommodation which was nothing but a dingy classroom of a municipal school,where we did have all sorts of rats and creeps for company, there were no real toilets and I remember I was so desperate to go to even an Indian style toilet then I actually went to a house in the village close by and requested them to allow me to use the toilet and thankfully made a arrangement to use it till I was staying there.This was a real all India meet,where I meet girls and boys from across the country all doing great work but couldn’t speak English at all. Going back was a real terror,in spite of having reservations there was a mob of sardars who just blocked the entry into the compartment and we girls some how managed to get in. After that I never meet those girls again.I think the only advantage that NSS gave me was that being a college supported organization, it really brought me in the limelight in front of my professors and this was probably the reason I was awarded as the Best Student- Arts junior college.

Mountaineering society/ Drama club
Mountaineering society was something I just joined for fun, I just went for a couple of treks to Karnala and Kanheri caves and then never bothered too much about it. Drama Club was something, I was really very interested in, since our team was very strong, infact I had auditioned and had been selected so many times but I think I was not dedicated to rehearsals as I was too busy doing Rotaract or NSS work and I would drop out giving some excuse or the other.I have attended a couple of college festivals like Malhar and MoodI, Brouhaha to participate in some faltu contest or other, but never really won anything.


Moving from Bandra
This was one of the most heartbreaking event of my life.When we moved from Bandra to godforsaken Kandivali which I really hated and I continue to hate till today. Bandra was where I grew up, every single lane of this suburb was filled with memories of growing up, this was home. Although our first house where we moved in till our actual house was ready was quite spacious and comfortable and equipped with all the modern amen ties I truly missed my Bandra house. Infact after we left that house, I never had the courage to go and visit that house in the last 8 years. Kandivali was a complete new culture for me,it was full of the Gujarati, nosy clan which I had always dreaded to have for company. There weren’t even any nice restaurants or places to go to and to add to it traveling was a real pain. To attend my morning lecture at 7am, I would have to leave home at 5:45 walk to the bustop and then board the crowded train and walk again to the college, compared to a simple bus ride to college from my Bandra home. But yes Kandivali brought me close to my culture and my roots, Ganesh chathurthi, Diwali, Navratri, Holi were festivals celebrated with great fanfare and oneness in our buildings.


Working
Almost towards the end of my First year in degree college, I started working with a PR consultant in Bandra. So every day after college I would go to office. In my 2year stint with this consultant I learnt quite a bit.I picked up the business, and my boss was so happy with me that she actually left the business to be handled by me for 2 months when she was away on a vacation. Work wise life was very good, my clients were happy with my work, I had a good rapport with the lifestyle journalists and also the job gave me the opportunity to work with some interesting people like Shatbhi Basu, NRCI, Anil Dharkar. But yes I often missed not being able to sit in the canteen aimlessly like some of my friends and go out and watch movies or just roam around.

Final year in college
This was a true landmark year in my life.I still recollect in November,I was taking a break from work to concentrate on my TY studies.It was also my first cousins wedding at our native place in Nainital and this wedding proved to be one of those rare occasions where all my fathers siblings came together.The wedding was truly memorable, it was grand family reunion, so much so that for some reason I had tears in my eyes when we were all leaving from the venue. This was also a beginning to a end which, I could never even anticipate in my wildest dreams. After we came back Pa`s health started deteriorating, he had already made couple of trips to the hospital the previous year but now the visits got more frequent. Finally in mid-December under serious circumstances we moved Pa to a big hospital and when he left the house that day in the ambulance, he some how knew he wasn’t coming back. I couldn’t believe this was happening to me, I wanted to believe that it was just a dream, but it was reality that I was facing for the next seven days,where every single day, Pa in spite of his pain, in his humorous style told me that he was going leaving me to look after everything.I wish it was just one of Pa`s jokes, but it wasn’t a joke anymore,when one Saturday afternoon, after singing one of his favourite songs he was gone and all I could do is see his diminishing heart beats on that machine outside that room. On that day, life seemed like a huge challenge.I just knew that I had a huge amount of things that I needed to sort but I didn’t know how I would do it. Although Pa was gone in person, but his sprit was alive in me , and that’s what helped me to slowly and steadily sort out everything.But at that time, I really wished, I had an elder sibling who would take care of everything for me.


Post college
The day I finished my final exams, the only thing I wanted to do was to get a proper job for myself in a company. Finally I applied to a couple of PR agencies and managed to find myself a job with Percept Profile. For the first couple of months I was quite lost, and wasn’t to happy with the way things were at work, but about 10 months later my ex boss called me for an exciting offer with someone she knew. This is where I learnt to negotiate, I negotiated my salary and started working on Channel [v ]. Channel [v] was undoubtedly an exciting client and I had a great time working with my new boss. The new company Vaishnavi was good, and the people there were nice too. It was almost like a family. Professionally things were good for me, but I just couldn’t concentrate on my law studies. I had enrolled for a degree course in law but law needed a lot of time for research in library and lot of mugging up which I couldn’t do in my cramped time, and I realized that this was not something I really wanted to do, coz I wasn’t enjoying it so I left my law studies. As time passed by I had the opportunity to handle new clients, new challenges, I walked up the corporate ladder.
After almost 2 years monotony creeped in and I decided to take a break, and this is where I took my first single backpack trip to Kerala where I could sit and think about what I wanted to do in my life.

Sabbatical
Sometime in February after I came back from Kerala,I decided that if I wanted to try out something different and explore the opportunities this world has to offer, this is the time to do it so that ten years down the line I wouldn’t regret not having given myself a chance. I applied for my US- visa, shocked the world by quitting my job, without any assignment in hand. Luckily I got my US visa and I decided to go the US and explore the work, study opportunities that country could offer me.
My 3 month US trip was fun, I traveled a lot, met lots of interesting people, visited colleges, universities and concluded that US was not the greatest place for me to begin my career at this stage, as it would require a lot of time and funding. So I came back and started job hunting. Obviously I could have easily gone back to Vaishnavi, but I didn’t want to do PR, I wanted to do Marketing communications. I actually wanted to work for a media house but I ended up working with one of the leading life insurance companies ICICI Prudential. I have been working with them for close to 2 years now


New interests - Travel, Food, Reading & Children
Over the last ten years I have discovered the four things that I really like to do. I never realized how passionate I was about traveling until I took my first backpack trip to Kerala. Since then I have taken ever single opportunity to explore places in India and abroad.Travelling in Amtracks, Jamutavis , general compartments of long distance trains, state transport buses,staying at nominal home stays and exploring the local flavour of the regions I visit are things I just love to do.
Although I am a vegetarian, I love to discover new cuisines and food joints.In fact I am also in talks with a food site to pen a column on food.
Reading was something I was never to fond of, but this is something I have picked up over the last couple of years. I love reading Indian fiction.
I was never to fond of children, but I guess because of the sheer time I spent with my young nieces and nephews in the US that I started getting very fond of children. I look forward to the day, when I will have my own children


I know this is a very long post, and probably not everyone will be able to reach till the end, but ten years is a long time and 2000 words isn’t enough to document it.

Cheers to a decade !

The Birth story

The last couple of weeks have been exciting times for me. Two of my first cousins delivered their first childs, Anand & Om within a gap of 10 days. A new life has the power of bringing so much of joy and happiness. Unfortunately since they stay in another country, I did not get the opportunity to go and visit them, but thanks to technology we could look at their pictures.

New births always bring me nostalgia, It reminds me of my birth story, which Pa used to narrate, I think, this was one of favourite stories, and I often asked Pa to repeat it for me. It made me very happy for some reason. Pa was a very good storyteller, and his narration was so good, that even today when he isn’t here anymore, I can still imagine those details as his words echo in my ears.

I still remember the time my sister was going to be born. I was too young to understand what was going on. A seven year old kid, who believed that by eating eggs one got pregnant, my aunt who I had visited in the US the previous summer, was so shocked by my understanding of the reproductive system that she immediately gifted me a book on egg to chicken. The book didn’t change my understanding too much,I continued to believe that my mom has eaten eggs that summer, and that’s the reason I would be having a sibling this Christmas. I remember accompanying my mom and dad to the monthy, bi monthly visits to the doctor and aimlessly sitting in waiting area of the doctors clinic, just looking at all the patients waiting there and wondering what ailment they had, and glancing through the medical journals which didn’t make any sense to me.

As they say you can never predict this things, one early winter morning the 11 of Dec 1988 to be precise, Ma and Dadi rushed to the hospital. Pa was still in Haldwani, scheduled to be back by 20th of Dec for my sister`s birth. It seemed like a normal Sunday morning, Dadaji was sitting on his sofa, happily reading his paper, chatting with me. Couple of minutes later the phone rang and Dadaji announced, “Dhruti you have a baby sister”.At that very moment, I don’t know how I decided, but I said than we will name her Shruti. I have no idea what happened after it, but she was officially named Shruti. I remember going to municipality office in Bandra along with Dadi to collect her birth certificate and Dadi explaining the importance of having a birth certificate to me.

I don’t recollect properly if I did go to Nanavati to see my sis, but I do remember looking at her in amazement, she was such a tiny little thing, I had probably never seen such a tiny human being in my life, so I was scared to even lift her in my hand, inspite of Pa insisting on me doing so. For the first 2-3months after her birth I just visited her on weekends and holidays with Pa, as Ma was staying at Nani`s house.

Shruti was a like a walking talking doll for me.I loved playing with her, tossing her up and down, scare her a little, pinch her cheeks.She was almost like a replica of my kid pictures. Infact I remember complaining to my Mom, that it wasn’t fair that she was always buying something for Shruti every week ( which was actually just Diapers) and nothing for me. Poor Ma had to deal with my tantrums of differentiation between me and my sister.But I still remember the joy, I had when she started crawling for the first time.It was almost like a new feature had been added to my doll, but I think I was most satisfied when I pushed her to walk, I would always make her stand and push her to take a step and one day she did start walking. It was a wonderful feeling and then we brought her the chu chu shoes the ones that generates a sound when one walk. She would happily walk around the house in those shoes. She was just 11 months old and she started walking. That was the end of my siblingdom story as she moved to the United States. When I look at her today, she stands almost 6 ft tall, its hard to imagine that one day she was that same tiny little being I was so scared to lift

After she left,the first couple of months were hard,the house felt so empty without her. It seemed like; my walking talking doll was taken away from me. Almost every one I knew in school or my neighbourhood or even my cousins all had siblings,I often felt that void of not having a sibling who i could nurture,guide protect, or be nurtured by. But as time passed by I started liking my singledom status and just felt happy counting the advantages I had by being the only child.More than that when I look at it now, I think I was very fortunate to have the kind of upbringing I had from my parents. They gave me so much of freedom to do what I wanted to do.I never remember asking anybody for permission, it was always informing them or taking their opinion on anything,I wanted to do.

I do wonder sometimes how life would have been with a sibling, especially when friends amaze me with the weirdest statements, and the weirdest of them was “You don’t like video games, because you don’t have a brother.”

Namesake

On one of those luxurious days when I actually had nothing to do,I decided to go and watch the movie Namesake at the local mall. I think, I like the concept of nothingness, it is indeed a luxury to have a day where you have nothing to do and nothing to think about, which leads you in to a land of wandering thoughts and imagination.
The movie, was ok and since I had read the book earlier it was just like a pictorial representation of the book. But after the movie as I ventured into my nothingness world, my mind got me thinking about the medley of names I have been addressed with from my existence on Planet Earth.

Dhruti- This is the name my father and bua (by tradition) gave me. Dhruti means courage and determination. I like my name, and more than me my parents liked it too, so they never addressed me with a pet name, as they feared that my actual name would get lost in the pet name.

Pudding-I think for the first couple of years of my life the sweet little kid that I was,Bhuj started calling me Pudding Infact even my first birthday cake, reads Happy Birthday Pudding. I dont think at that time I understood what Pudding really meant, but I was thrilled when Bhuj took me to Pudding street. Ofcourse with Pudding there was a list of many other names like Applepie, chickoo pie etc

Pattu- When I was little over 2 years old and we lived in Haldwani, my elder cousin who is just couple of months older to me, couldn’t pronounce my name,she started calling me Pattu, and then everyone in Haldwani started calling me Pattu.

Chotan as the little one and Piddu the little teddy bear were some cute names that Dadaji gave me.

DD-I dont quite recollect how I got this name. But I think we were going on a Rotaract trip and than some my friends started calling me Dangerous Dhruti, District Dhruti. DD. Of course the various abbreviations for DD followed

Daku DD -I think Daku was a name I gave myself, once I learnt about the fascinating Daku rehab stories in my family

The name destroyers, who could never prounounce my name
Daruti
Dhotar
Shruti
Kruti
Truti
Jyoti
Dorothy
Dhrooti

Babyji- Our servants in Haldwani used to address me

Bitya, Beta- From shopkeepers to bus conductors, acquaintances, to relatives to even some my younger friends. Infact I loved the way the old man my guide for one of the monuments in Lucknow kept addressing me as Bitya

Gudiya- This is a new one, I remember in Lucknow I was walking around a monument, and there was this family from a village who had probably come for the first time to a city and the head of the family he said Gudiya, "Yaah se Doosra Maqbara kitna dor hai", and again when I bumped into the family at another place, they kept calling me Gudiya.I like that

D- This is the shorter version for Didi, and my younger cousins call me D and I quite like it.

Dhruti Masi- Oh that sounds so sweet, when my young nieces and nephews( which are very few) and my friends kids call me that

Aunty- I obviously hate people calling me that , but guess I cant run away from the fact that I am an aunt to some people

Bhabiji- Hated it when the vegetable vendor called me that and warned him that I would never buy vegetables from him if he called me that

Behenji
Didi
Madam
Maam
Madamjee
Sisterjee
Aapa
Brother

List can go on, I guess, but what’s interesting is that one person can be called by so many different names in a short life span

Random thoughts

Sometimes the strangest things can ignite your minds, thought process and get you thinking. Over the past one week, a lot of random thoughts ignited out of various situations have led me thinking

Boring life or Age ?

It was a Friday evening, and I was catching up with my friend who has just returned to town after a long stay in Chennai and she insisted she wanted to eat at Mc Donald’s since there wasn’t a single outlet there. When I walked into that noisy and crowded Mc Donalds outlet at Parle, I just couldn’t handle the people, the noise, I wanted to get out. Some how we found a place to sit down, and as I waited with my friends college going brother as she stood in line to get the food, I remarked,
“Its so funny, some years ago I was a part of this chaos and noise, and now I cant handle this anymore, I think I am getting old”. He smiled and said, "You have not got old, but its just that you have a boring life, working in an Corporate office, if you quit your job and do nothing else, you will enjoy the noise and chaos”

I kept thinking about what he had said, did I really have such a boring life? Didn’t I do interesting and adventureous things ? After all i am this adventurer who those the craziest of things



Survival

I was reading one of the interesting short stories, and I came across this story called, Hope, which was about this rickshaw driver in Delhi narrating the story of his life. How he had walked over 500 km from his village in UP to come to Delhi to find a job, he walked 25km on a daily basis to work in a mill, and he was jobless for sometime after the mill closed down, worked in a printing press earned good money and then was jobless again after the new automatic printing machines came into existence.

A couple of days later, I was watching a show on Discovery called Colours of India, which was on the poster painting artists of India. In my school days I remember seeing the artists at work painting the latest movie posters or advertisements on the hoardings. This art has now been replaced by the computer. The paint brush of the artist has taken a backseat and all that this artists have are fond memories of the glory days where they were the biggest advertising agencies themselves and now left with some trifle work assignments from abroad.

I kept thinking of the rickshaw driver & the poster artists, how difficult life would have been for him, but they learned to survive, Imagine how you would feel if your source of livelihood is taken away from you.

For the poster artists, so many would have buried their talents behind to take up jobs as delivery boys, or waiters or whatever they got for survival




Marriage as Life insurance

One afternoon I was catching up with two of my married friends over lunch. As we chatted about this, that and other, they talked about their married life, rather one of them constantly bitching about her husband, while the other, the experienced of the lot was teaching her to learn to work around situations. I smiled inside, and told them, that I was glad I wasn’t married and didn’t have to worry about all this so called nokjhoks. To which I really liked what one of them said, “Marriage is like life insurance, just like you invest money for you future, when you invest in a relation like marriage, it’s a little difficult initially to pay the premiums, but when at the age of 60 you need companionship this premium will prove productive” I chuckled and said, your analogy is great, coz just like life insurance there is a risk here too, if your partner dies, the premium has gone down the drain


Singledom

I happened to meet one of favourite elderly friends to pick up some investment papers. As we chatted over Chai, he suddenly said “From my experience I can tell you, being single can get lonely sometimes, and it doesn’t mean that your unhappy, but you just get weird, like sometimes if you have people around, you wouldn’t want to talk to them, and if you are by yourself you will always keep wondering about having company” .

Well on my way back home I pondered about what he had just said. All my life, I have always been single, I grew up as an only child, I remember envying my friends for having siblings, and complaining to my Mom, for not having any brothers and sisters to play with . But as I grew up I got used to my singledom, I liked it that way, I did like meeting cousins, but it was only for a short while, after sometime I wanted my space and my peace. Even now I still do enjoy traveling alone. I don’t think too much if,I don’t have company to watch a movie or a play or to eat out or for any activity I wish to do, I just go ahead do it by myself. Although I do wish, I had company sometimes, and when I do have company sometimes I wish it was otherwise



Childhood

This is something I am constantly reminded off, when I see the little boy serving chai at tea stalls, or when I think of sweet waiter in Rajasthan who had abandoned his studies to work at the hotel we were staying at, or the school boy who missed school to manage the camel we were taking a ride on in deserts of Jaisalmer.

More recently I was cycling through Charkop area, and I saw this huge Maruti van , which was covered, all I saw was these group small children all clamed up together, they looked no different from the beggars we see on the road, I guess they were being taken to some place to be sold or to be trained to beg. As I looked at that van zooming passed me, I wondered what will happen to the childhood of these kids. Thousands and thousands of such children come into this city escaping from their homes in search of a brighter future, leaving their childhood behind

Filmtime : Bhojpuri ishtyle

I have always had this desire to watch a Bhojpuri film and see what its all about.From what i hear, Bhojpuri movies are made on shoe string budgets, and extremly profitable, especially in UP and Bihar.The biggest star of the Bhojpuri film industry is Ravi Kissan, Ofcourse Rakhi Sawant is also there, but only for item songs, i dont know if she has acted as lead in any of this movies. I still do not know much about the Bhojpuri film industry, but am intrigued to find out more. From the kind of actors, to the kind of money and time that goes into the making of the masala Bhojpuri films.


The general impression is that most Bhojpuri films are showcased at shady theatres full of unemployed men, bhaiyas, rickshaw and truck drivers. So when i voiced the desire to watch a bhojpuri film, the immediate reaction of mosto f my friends and collegeous was in negative, they all had just one answer,that I was insane and I shouldn’t go to watch such a movie in a theatre. None of my male friends agreed to accompany me to watch the movie, instead they volunteered to buy me a DVD to watch it at home. But as i have always believed, that if you want to get the flavour of a particular thing, you have to experience it in its natural surroundings. Watching a Bhojpuri movie in a local theatre, would not only give me an opportunity to watch the film, but also see the target audience watching it, and observe their reactions.

The viewing
When i had almost lost hope of watching the movie, one of my journalist- friend, the same guy who had promised, to take me to a dance bar and did not do so, messaged me enquiring about the Bhojpuri movie. Here was my chance of settling my old score, not realizing what he was really getting into he agreed to join me for the movie. I had already done my R & D on the Bhojpuri movie scene. The latest flick, Ram Balwan, starring Ravi Kissan was playing at Super Cinema in Grant road. I called the theatre just to ensure its not housefull. The guy having recognised my voice from the previous day calling to enquire about show timings says "Madam chinta mat karo, bahut ticket hai, aaram se mil jayega."


In the afternoon heat i walk from Grant road station towards chor bazzar. Super Cinemas is located a couple of blocks further to Novelty. Its only 2:30pm yet, the waiting area near the theatre is slowly filling up. Although its not very crowded. When the booking counter opens i go and buy two tickets, i ask the guy for good seats. He smiles and tells me "Madam, yeah free seating hai"Already some people are starring at me, my journalist friend has just left from town, so i take shelter in the local mughali restauran next door.
By the time my friend arrives, most of the people have alreay entered the theatre. The theatre is actually quite nice. Its just not maintained properly. In its glory days it must have been quite popular. We walk in to the balcony section, the movie has almost started, its so dark inside i cant even see my friend. The seats are little uneven, and the fillings in seats is worn out or eaten by rats, i guess. There is no air-conditioning only huge fans


The movie begins, in a matter a couple of mins, the two heros, Ravi Kissan and dont know the hero`s name save two girls from getting raped, those girl fall in love with them, there is song dance, the heros try to escape from the women, the women pray to god and suddenly find them playing Kusti in those typical underwears in the kheth. The Heros again try to run away heroines entice them with dance and jhatka matka. The hooting happens only from the stalls, when the women are dancing. The Heros mothers, Aruna Irani find out of their chakkar and she goes into flashback and tells them they have to take badla for their fathers death from father`s elder brother who is shown as very a cruel thakur. In flashback mode there are more than 5 item songs, or mujra types, the biggest obviously is of Rakhi sawant. In the end like all movies the sons take revenge by killing the uncles sons, and the uncle and then they live happily ever after.

All in all, Bhojpuri movies are really time pass, watching them at a theatre like super cinema is fairly decent, people won’t really bother you

To know more about Bhojpuri films click the link below.

http://www.bhojpuri.org/film.htm