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

Zindagi...

Zindagi ke safar main guzar jaate hain jo mukam

This thought provoking song written by Anand Bakshi has been my favourite since I was in school, but I had never really gone beyond the first two lines of the song. Having managed to download the song on my phone, I have been listening to it carefully amidst the chaos of the noisy train compartments on my way to work and lot of thoughts came to my mind.

Zindagi ke safar main guzar jaate hain jo mukaam
Woh phir nahin aate, woh phir nahin aate
This line is so true, things in our life are so momentary. The simplest thing like the moments of laughter you have experienced, while sharing a joke with your friend will never come back, maybe because the joke wont make you laugh anymore or the friend probably wont exist anymore.

This reminds me of a beautiful and a realist quote I read some where
"The irony of time is that, sometimes we laugh at the moments we have cried, and cry over the moments we have laughed"


Phool khilte aain, log milte hain
Phool khilte hain, log milte hain magar
Patjhad main jo phool murjha jaate hain
Woh baharon ke aane se khilte nahin
Kuchh log ek roz jo bichhad jaate hain
Woh hazaron ke aane se milte nahin
Umar bhar chahe koi pukaara kare unka naam
Woh phir nahin aate, Woh phir nahin aate
Zindagi ke safar main...

This para is my favourite, just like how flowers blossom every day, we meet new people everyday. Some stay back with us while some are taken away in the storm of time and inspite of meeting more over 1000 people in your lifetime, you can never replace the space of those people who you have lost over the period of time, what stays back is only memories.

If I reflect back, i try to recollect the wonderful times I have had with my group of friends during my college days.At that time they were the nucleus of my joy and happiness, but times change, people change, relations, circumstances change, and then you end up being in touch with just a few of them, your interaction levels come down, you get immersed at work, you meet more people at work, you make more friends. Your nucleus of friends changes to your work friends. In the course of time you end up bumping into people who you had met earlier, then they suddenly become the nucleus of your interaction, again with time and commitments some friends leave, this epic or this silsila of building new friendships and fading old friendships continues. Sometimes I wonder, if we eventually know that all this is going to be momentary then why do we invest so much of time and effort in it. The answer to that question probably lies in the same reason, that we all desire to lead a good and successful life in spite of knowing its going to end one day.


If you want to read the entire the lyrics of the song click on this link
http://tinyurl.com/75e57

If you want to listen to this beautiful song. Click on this link
http://tinyurl.com/c4zbp

Baklava hunt in Bombay

One Saturday afternoon as I chatted over chai with Dada, Dadi, we suddenly remembered Baklava which we all had relished back in Memphis and Detroit. Dadi offered to make it, if we could find the pastry strips needed to prepare it. I wondered if we could get Baklavas somewhere in Bombay. Putting good use to Dadaji latest computer and internet connection, I did a google search and to my amazement I did find a place called Iranian Sweet Palace in Dongri, which sold Baklavas but only in March before Iranian New year. There was no contact no, but just the address. We all were thrilled to find out that we had some hope to relish our delicacy in Bombay.

By chance a friend of mine happened to be at Mohammedali road called me for something else, but before he could say anything I excitedly blurted the details of the shop and obviously expected him to go to the shop and get me my Baklavas. But my friend returned with no Baklavas but Hasan Irani(the owner) contact no and information that I could buy the Baklavas in March.

Baklava or Baklawa is a rich, sweet pastry found in many cuisines of the Middle East, the Balkans and South Asia and developed in Ottoman cuisine. It is made of chopped nuts, usually walnuts or pistachios, layered with phyllo pastry, sweetened with sugar or honey syrup.In Turkey, it is particularly associated with the city of Gaziantep.

SO one evening, post work I excitedly called Hasan Irani, he told me I could come any time before 8pm and gave me apt directions to the place from worli. So I took the 124 bus, which is an interesting ride through Byculla, Navpada and Bhendi Bazzar . I got off the bus at Bhendi Bazar stop and asked an old uncle for directions. He directed me to lane further, and just as I began walking another inquisitive gentlemen approached me and enquired where I was heading. Another group of men in the corner of the lane also asked me where I was heading.

Iranian Sweet Palace

Finally I reach Iranian Sweet Palace, I had imagined it to be one of those typical sweet shops like Zam Zam, huge in size and ignited with lights. Iranian Sweet Palace has an old board, without lights, you could easily miss the shop if you were not looking carefully. Hasan was standing outside probably gazing at the chaos outside. He welcomed me with a smile and recognized me instantly to be the mad women coming to buy Baklavas from the other end of town. The shop didn’t look like a sweet shop at all, there were these huge plates full of Baklavas, Pista & Kesar( similar to Baklava but made of pista & Kesar). The Baklavas are prepared in the Iranian style with more of the sweet and less of the pastry part, the ones I had eaten were more Turkish and French style. Baklavas are for 450rupees a kg. The problem is that Baklavas weigh a lot but are small in size, so you don’t have much of choice but to buy the 1 kg packing

The baklavas are made here in the traditional Iranian style, cooked with wood fire. Hasan`s family has been running this shop for more than 98 years now. Hasan claims to have the only shop in India to be preparing Baklavas, that too only in one month of the year. He also has some Iranian sweets and dates. When I recommend him to advertise his sweets in paper, he contently tells me “ I am just happy doing this, just catering to Irani community, I have enough for my self, I sold my restaurant Light of Asia for a fortune, I have 3 other houses, some are on rent, and some good investment in stock exchange, so I don’t need anything”.

So with my Baklavas packets in hand I walk through one of my favourite roads,Mohammed Ali road. I loved watching the Irani & Muslim restaurants serving maska pav and chai and the huge bakery and sweet shops like Zam Zam. The vendors trying to lure me to buy their goods right from the burkhas to the colourful dress materials. The minara masjid which looked so dim without al lthe lighting which I had seen during Ramzan. The sound of the Ayan( call for prayers). For sometime you could just forget you were in Bombay, you could be at Chowk in Lucknow or Chandni Chowk in Delhi

Generation X- Children’s world

As I dragged my self out of my Sunday slumber to attend my 10 year old neighbours birthday party never had I imagined that I was about to embark into a totally different world of the children of today.

As we walked in to this popular pizza eatery, the atmosphere was celebratory; the kids were playing the age old musical chairs conducted by the event manager of the chain. As each of the kids were out after every round, they had to come out and do a punishment, either sing a song dance etc.

The first boy to get out, a 10 year old, who I developed an instant liking to due to his very intelligent brains, sang a popular Sean Paul song Temperature. I was amazed to know that he knew the entire lyrics of the song. Later when I chatted with him, he told me he knew the lyrics of many English numbers, he listens to a lot of Sean Paul nos . I was so zapped, I still remember as a 10 year old I had no clue of music, or an artist .

Another 8 year girl gets dismissed from the game, as a punishment she is asked to dance like Shakira, that is the punishment suggested by the children present there. Initially the girl is shy but in a matter of minutes when the music starts, she gets into the swing and her steps go exactly like Shakira from her latest video.

In another game, the birthday girls parents and grandparents also join in. when the parents get out, the children instantly demand that they should also be given a punishment. The birthday girl suggests the parents dance, and my smart 10 year old friend along with 2 other girls recommends them to do a ball dance or jive . I don’t think I even knew what a ball dance or jive was till I even reached college. Of course the parents were very sporty and they danced beautifully to some popular number

As I was expressing my shock at the changing era of birthday parties and children to a young mother sitting next to me, she narrated an interesting incident of her friends 7 year old daughter who had short listed 3 potential candidates as her husband from school. She told her mother that she had short listed them, because one of them was strong, the other always came first in line and third one comes first in class. When her mother remarked that this it was too early for her to get married or choose a life partner, as girls got married only after the age of 25, her reply was that she wanted to finish one of the important works earlier only, copied her mothers dialogue in gujrati( Ek Kaam patavi devano ne ma) good to finish one work . Another mother at her son`s school who is a gynecologist was telling her, when she tried to educate her son about reproduction process, the son coolly told his mom,"Mom you don’t need to tell me about this, I know how babies are born". Times had really changed, the young mother infect invited me to come one evening at her place, and she could narrate even more such anecdotes since she has gathered many in her 7 years of motherhood

After the birthday cake was cut and the games were played, the kids settled down for a grub. Our generation bday parties of samosa , wafer and Rasna were replaced by the pizzas, garlic bread and coke. I joined the kids on the table, thinking this would be an interesting experience for me to learn from generation next.

10 year olds take on :-

Movies- All the kids watched all the latest movies whether it was Dhoom, KANK or even Nishabd. The kids almost agreed in unison that they liked to watch romantic movies and action films. A 10 year old boy tells me that he had watched Kuch Kuch Hota Hai and Main Ho Na at least 50 times on his personal DVD player. But now he loves to watch all the horror movies

Idea of day out – Playgrounds or gardens were something no one wanted to go to . They all liked to either go to In orbit mall or to watch a movie. Amusment parks were still ok .

Clothes- I asked the kids if they picked up their clothes, or they parents did. Most of the kids liked to pick up their own clothes. I asked them how did they know what was in fashion or not. Did they look at the clothes in movies and buy or otherwise. The birthday girl who is undoubtedly the smartest of the lot replied” Didi we are not so dumb, we have a sense of style, we know what looks good and what is in fashion, we don’t need movies to tell us that.”

Games- None of the girls liked to play with dolls, or play doctor doctor, or house, house. They liked to play Hide n Seek or practice the latest steps of some dance number. Dancing was really in. Boys liked to play video games or watch movies at home, no one liked any toys

On girl friends/ boyfriends - Obviously since I was talking to such a grown up set of children, I couldn’t resist asking them whether they had girlfriends or boyfriends. This is interesting. The three boys in the group immediately pointed at each other stating that they had girlfriends. My intelligent 10 year old friend tells me that the guy sitting next door has a girlfriend, but she has moved to London and he writes to her and all. With a little blush on his face, the boys says that no there is nothing like that, it was just that they were teasing him a lot so he just said that the girl in London was his girlfriend, she was just a friend.
My intelligent friend also refuses all the rumours about being linked to the girl who lives in the next building stating, that she is not my girlfriend but a girl who is a good friend of mine. She was new in school and she didn’t know anybody, so I became her good friend and this people started teasing me with her. Obviously our smarty pants couldn’t resist asking me the question, so he asked, "Didi you are asking us, what about you, you are so old, don’t you have a boyfriend?."

As the kids bid good bye to me, for a moment, I really wondered how times have changed, today’s children know so much more, It seemed like a different world had grown up when I was away.

Seed for Thought

Its so complete.
But yet so empty.
Just like a movie which seems so perfect on screen.
Hiding the thousands of hard working beings behind the scene.

Just like the lovely picture of communal harmony
Our politicians and books paint for us, cremating the realities behind

Just like the thousands of people who blindly pledge their lives
To get betrayed in the name of religion

There seems to be so much happiness
But yet so much discontent inside.

Just like the smiles on those children’s faces
Who have buried their childhood behind.

Just like the sorrow hidden in the hearts of those people
Whose loves ones have drowned in to a volcano of religious clash

Just like the beautiful picture, we paint of the valley for us
Where thousands lead a life of survival in the atrocities of time

That brings me to a question.

What is the attraction of this thing called Life,
That we all want to survive even to fight against the hardships of time .

ON The Road Again - Cultural Back-pack trip - Update

Day 3- Varanasi, missed Ayodhya in LucknowI wake up at 5:30a.m as i want to watch the sunrise at the ghats. The previous night experience has been tiresome roaming around the tiny bylanes and being followed by touts everywhere. The place am staying at Sakshi guest house is alright. Its doesnt look very fancy,its a neat room in a old haveli with a attached bathroom and hot water. For 150 bucks its great value for money.

At about 6:00a.m i am at the Ghats( cant remember the name now). The atmosphere is truly divine and the air is magical. The sun hasnt come out yet, but the calm river still wipped in fog welcomes you.I get myself a one and half hour boat ride across all the ghats. The interesting ones among them are Narad ghat, where you will find any one bathing, as its believed that if a mother in law and daughter in law come here together they are bound to fight. The Hareshchandra ghat is a place where dead bodies are burnt in a electric crematorium, not the best ghat to watch and Meer Ghat is where the bodies are burnt in the normal manner and sometimes dead bodies especially of saints are just dipped in the water. My boat guide did show me one of the dead bodies floating in the water.

Surprisingly atleast in the morning, the water seemed clean, the boat guide tells me that the nagarpalika cleans the water every night and much care is taken for its cleanliness now. I watch the sun rise right in front of me from my boat. The view is undoubtedly outstanding, and i wonder about the no of sunsets and sunrises i have seen over the past couple of weeks on my trip, otherwise back home there is hardly any time to notice natures marvels. The morning is the best time to be at the ghat, its less crowded and very peaceful. Ofcourse viewing the migrant birds flocking besides the river side is another noticeble feature.

After that divine experience, i continue it by going to the rooftop restaurant of Dolphin hotel which is nice modern hotel on the banks of the ganges and ofters an outstanding view from top. After a quick breakfast i start walking through the ghats to go to Assi ghat which is close to Banaras University and on the other end. Its a long walk but nice to walk through the ghats and watching the ganga, thankfully its not crowded like the small streets and not many touts bother u except a couple of boat riders here and there on one or two of the ghats who offer u a boat ride. I notice a lot of Sadhus at their camps, sometimes i really wonder how authentic they all are, there is a possibality that some of them may dress and behave like sadhus just to get a free living.

At Assi Ghat, there is a set being done for a kavi Samelam shot for IBN live, the location is fabulous i chat with the guy who is in charge of production, he tells me he can organise anything we want on the ghats and its costs about 2000 as rent. The IBN team invites me for the shot at 2 and insists i come, i tell them that i can hardly understand hindi poetry and i might have to catch a train at 1 in the afternoon, but they still insist, i smile and leave

Assi Ghat is AND IS the only place to stay in Varanasi. Its nice, quite and you will not be bothered by touts and there is plenty of nice accomadations, how i wish i had come here instead of going to the other end. Anyways its about 10:00 a.m and i have lots of work to complete yet if i want to catch the afternoon 2:00p.m train. I stroll through Banaras University and take a rick to Madanpura. Its the muslim mohalla in Varanasi and a great place to buy Banarasi sarees at wholesale prices. Unfortunately all the shops in Madanpura are still closed, i move to Jagdamvadi next to it and after looking at a huge pile of sarees rush back to my guest house with 6 sarees. Now i am in a real rush to reach the station. The train to Faizabad leaves at 2 and i need to catch it some how. The road is terribly crowded, i am a little shocked seeing a deadbody on tied up on top of jeep,with its relatives sitting inside the jeep.

Inspite of the rickshaw guy rushing me to the station i end up at the platform without the ticket and the train almost leaving the platform. Some people on the platform volunteer to help me board the running train, but i disagree.

After running through various ticket counters i am told the next train is at 5 and would reach faizabad at 11 in the night. So its a bad idea to take that,i am advised to try my luck on the bus. I go to the bus stand and there is a airconditioned bus leaving for Lucknow, the bus driver tells me that i could get off at Sulatanpur and go to Faizabad from there. He said it would reach by 5:30p.m. The important point is also to reach Faizabad at a decent time. I would stay there the night and go to Ayodhya from there the next morning. By the time i check around to find out how far sultanpur is from Faizabad and how well connected it is, my seat in the bus is gone, i end up going in the drivers cabin seat upto Jaunpur.

The ride from Varanasi to Lucknow passing through Jaunpur is nice. Bright green fields with big mango trees on both the sides. The view of sun bidding goodbye behind the big mango trees was truly phenomenal.I make a couple of enquires seated in bus, check with my navigator friend for the distance between sultanpur and faizabad once again, call the hotel in Faizabad and even call a hotel in Lucknow. I read about Ayodhya once again in my book, it says u cant take cameras etc, so my plan to go to Ayodhya gets little shaken up. By the time we reach Sultanpur its about 6:30 in the evening, its became so dark and there are hardly any lights on the road. After getting off from Sultanpur i would still have to go further 60km by local bus of whoes frequency i have to idea on. I would reach Faizabad by around 8:00 at night. The thought of going to a unknown city in UP in the night alone scared me and i decided against it and bought myself a ticket to Lucknow on the bus and made arrangements for my stay in Lucknow. Ayodhya unfortunately gets a miss on this trip, but saftely is more important so be it.

I like the concept of waking up in a new city every day, Over the last four days i have been a new city every single day, and tommorrow it will be Lucknow

ON The Road Again - Cultural Back-pack trip

Day 1- Ticket to ride- Sunday- 18 Feb 07

I am still recovering from my road trip to Rajasthan, Gujarat and the day trip to Agra at my halt in Delhi, i finally wake up do some research and figure out a basic plan for my cultural extravaganza back-pack trip. Lucknow- Varanasi- Ayodhya- Allahabad-. I figured out that this was a circle so i could begin my trip from any location. My best bet was the Shatabdi to Lucknow but that was full too. I checked more than 30 trains on the internet going to Varansi, Ayodhya and Lucknow that night and can u belive it all were wait listed so i couldnt make a reservation online.

After a quick lunch at mall, and rushing the maid to iron my wet clothes i pack my stuff in a back-pack and leave in the radio taxi to New Delhi station. Radio Taxis are newly introduced in Delhi, they come within half hour of calling and charge 15rs per km its a electronic meter.

As i drive through Delhi, i admire the wide roads and the monuments, i pass by, i also love the feeling of not knowing which destination i am headed to as its completely dependant on the ticket i get. When i got of at New Delhi station at Ajmeri Gate- Ticket booking counter its about 4:30p.m and i am just amazed to see the huge lines in every window. No one knows anything, there is total chaos, i stand in a ladies line just to find out i cant get tickets in sleeper class or AC from this line. I move to another window, shatabi and rajdhani counter, the guy tells me all sold out, he advices me to just get into Rajdhani train standing on platrom 12 going to Mughal Serai and then ask the tC to make me a ticket. I think its a crazy idea coz it would reach Mughal Serai at 2 in the night and i would have to wait at the station and then take a bus or smthg to Varanasi. Anyways for the heck of it i enquire with the TC standing next to the train, he tells me its possible for 2500rs.

I go to Paharaganj ticket counter , which is again very crowded,i move from one line to other with no sucess, i also speak to a tout who is ready to give me a ticket in Shivganga Express for 1500rs, thats again a risky propostion both costwise and realiability wise. I finally get to something which seems like a right counter, i request the guy to give me a ticket to any destination varanasi, Allahabad or Lucknow, he laughs at me and tells me Magadh is full and for lucknow Mail i can try at 8pm,its full right now, i ask him to check for other trains, he asks me for train names, i dont remember them now, i remember my navigator friend at this time

In the middle of all these chaos i end up meeting two students from Banaras university, they are going back to banaras, they have one extra female ticket to magadh in sleeper class, i offer to buy it from them. They explain to me that the ticket is complicated, it belongs to a friend of theirs and has diffrent names and it cannot be canceled due to tatkal and if the TC is not ready to change names, so they advise me to buy a local ticket to Mughal Serai and then later adjust in the train. Later the two boys keep arguing about something in Bengali, i think its a better idea to part ways with them and figure out my own thing.

I enquire with a couple of TCs and they tell me that i can easily get in to the General compartment of Ladies in Magadh express. I didnt know wearing toe rings easily qualified one to be called as married women. As i chatted with the TC, he obivously was curious to know who i am and immediately told me that i was married and he guessed that by looking at my toe rings as in UP its a custom that only married women wear toe rings. Well i didnt say anything and will use this to my advantage as far as possible.

I wait at the platform, the train is late by two hours and all the platforms are crowded with humanbeings, there are numerous announcments of trains going to allabahad. Lucknow, Varanasi. I just wonder where do so many people go and come in UP. Inspite of having over 30 trains across 3 destinations you cant get a reservation in any class.

Finally the train arrives at 9:50 p.m and honestly looking at the crowd on that platform, i just thought i would have to go back home that night, but somehow i managed to get in and that two a window seat.In no time i had children and mothers sitting and then later sleeping in every inch of place around. Some Men managed to climb in to this compartment. For some reason the ride didnt seem to long and at about 8oclock i was at Alahabad station


Day 2 - Alhabad & Varanasi
One very good rickshaw guy leaves me to Sangam. The area from where i need to take the boat ride to watch the Triveni Sangam. The chacha warns me not to pay too much to the boat guy and comes all the way with me, inspite me asking him not to come. i like the way he calls me betiya,its sounds very sweet

I negotiate the price and for 300 bucks i take a boat ride from Jamuna river upto the Triveni Sangam. Its beautiful in the morning, so calm and peaceful, the river seems to be still wrapped in the winter fog. The triveni sangam is a mixture of three dharas(rivers) Jamuna which is green in colour,Saraswati which is yellow in colour and Ganga which is white in colour.

The boat rider is informative and he shows me the places around. The ride from Sangam Ghat to Triveni Sangam is beautiful, with ducks and flamingos for company. First he tells me about why the place is called Prayag, apparantely the fort which Akbar had built on the banks of the jamuna always kept falling down, he had a dream that if he sacrificed the Prayag Maharaj a wellknown priest and two elephants, it would stop from falling. RIght here on the banks of this river he was sacrificed and the fort stoppped from following. There is also an outlet from the fort where Akbar wife Jodhabhai would come for a dip in the river.

As we go further,my boat rider insists i do the three cocunut sacrifice in the water, i tell him, i am not too keen on doing it as it pollutes the water, but before i could say anything a pujari with a boats come closer and he gives me the coconut,he makes me say a couple of prayers and i give him some 20 -30 ruppes. I am very angry with him and boat rider when they try to force me to do a 10 kg bhog to ganga which would cost somthing 600 rs. I guess i have just got alert with the touts around.
I walk through the city of Allahabad, its much more alive now. The architechture of some of the temples here have a lot of Islamic influence, the domes are very similar to mosques. I notice a lot of gun shops on the way,but first i decide to freshen up by going to the best hotel in town. The Grand- Intercontinental is the only luxury hotel in Allahabad, its located in civil lines. I use the bathroom and have some breakfast and then decide to go and see the famous Allahabad university.

Its a long walk, but nice walk through old colonial houses. Allahabad has some very nice British houses and lot of modern bunglows in Civil lines area. After a lot of walking i finally reach the university. Its huge and its architecture again has a lot of islamic influence. A lot of domes around most of the building. But the best part are the lovely classrooms with carvings inside and the huge lawns where a lot of young boys and girl spend there so called studytime together:). The campus is spread across diffrent diffrents and simply magnificent with its beautiful buildings.

I am tired of the walking and ask a rickshaw guy to take me to Harivanchrai Bachchan`s house, we go through various small lanes only to find out it doesnt exist anymore, i sort of dont believe that ,but anyways i have to get to Varanasi before night so i forget about it. A stop to gun shop is a must

I visit ths gun shop called Shastralaya. The old men sitting at the shop are more then happy to show me around. They tell me that they sell guns only to those who have a license. A license can be availed from a DM and its takes about a month to get it. He showed me guns ranging from 25,000 rs to 2lakh rupees. He told me they are supposed to sell it to criminals but usually its ends up going to them

I reach the bus stand at about 3:00pm and i get on to the bus to varanasi. Its a 3 hour ride from Allahabad fopr Rs 75.I reach Varanasi and as i have read in the book am tired of getting rid of the touts and guides then come behind me. I want to stay at the ghat so i rickshaw, and this is where i see a sea of just people and rickshaws. its chaotic. I run pillar to post to find a hotel, but cant, its getting dark and almost every individual on the street is interested in knowing where am going, its difficult to keep them away. Finally i manage to find a room in a guest house run by family for 150 rs. I atleast have a roof now. I look forward to morning on the banks of ganges tommorrow

ON THE ROAD!

photo courtesy- Sarfaraz Merchent(Pro-photographer in the making)

Over 35 hours behind the wheel ( with more than 2 flat tyers and one tyer burst)... 3000km of India`s scenic canvas ranging from the fields, to the desert and the forests.. 4 notorious characters. Adventure, Discovery & more

The route
(Mumbai- Surat- Ahmedabad- Himant Nagar- Palanpur- Sanchor- Barmer- Jaisalmer


Day 1- The beginning ( Friday- 9 Feb 07)

In the fading winter darkness of the morning I set out on this journey with 3 of my travelmates in quest of exploring the unknown. Although this is not really the beginning as our first stop is a wedding in Surat. Hardly had we reached the toll naka near Dahisar, that one of our travel mates opened one packet of Lays chips. He had got about 20 packets of Lays as he had a distributor for the product next door to his office. I immediately commented on How gujaratis love to eat all the time, and how their journey ends and begins with food. On the way to Surat, we halted at a Reliance petrol pump, and I was very impressed to find out that they provided facilities for shower for 20 bucks, I hoped to find such petrol-pumps on our long journey to Jaisalmer, as we might end up using one.

The highway from Bombay to Surat is well made and scenic, and with the good driving and speed of our travelmate we managed to reach Surat by about 10:30 in the morning. After gulping down some scrumptious breakfast of Ghee- Khakra, Ameri Khaman, Ghatiya and Jalebi we chatted with the bride, as the other two travel mates who weren’t supposed to attend the wedding set out in the heat to find something to do in Surat.

Surat
Surat has nothing to do, It’s a very crowded city and the only thing you could probably do is go to the Kapda Bazzar. In the afternoon we go to the Bombay Market which is a huge market selling saris and dress material. Its fascinating to see the colours and the chaos. Although we are quite unsuccessful in finding a simple kurta in this market which our friend wants to wear for the wedding as he ended up coming with the wrong clothes. If you are looking for something classy and simple then Bombay Market is not the place to shop for you.

Boredom and the need to rest compels our other two travelmates to find themselves a place to rest in a dingy little guest house. One of them has to drive in the night so the sleep is definitely needed

At about 10:30p.m in the evening we are done with the wedding and after many goodbyes we are finally ready to hit the road to Jaisalmer. The four of us have never seen a desert and we are quite excited to visit one.



Day 2 – On the road to Jaisalmer – ( Sat- 10 Feb 07)

Its about 12am now and we are on our way to Ahmedabad. One of the travel mates the morning driver is already zonked for the day. One of them our navigator who has religiously studied the road route sits in the front directing our third travelmate who is driving. My head is spinning and I have this desire to drink tea. Since the journey had just began, my travel mates are still very civil to me and are adhering to all my demands and requests.

The dhaba where we stop for chai is buzzing with truck drivers and their are some of them even with their families. We all wonder how difficult life would be for them traveling all the time.

The Ahmedabad express highway is mind-blowing, after crossing ahmedabad and various queries we end up taking a shorter route through a short cut near Himmat nagar. As we drive through this small road we can see nothing but trees, we do hope to find a ghost somewhere on the way, but there is nothing accept the silence of the night.

In the morning when we reach Palanpur, we halt at a petrolpump and I am just delighted to know that we have toilet paper with us, thanks to one of our travelmates who is in the tissue paper business. Our navigator friend opens the map on the bonnet of the car again trying to read the route map. Jaisalmer is still about 400-450km away.


Its time to swap drivers, and our day driver travel mate begins his journey. From Palanpur we need to get to to Barmer via Sanchor. We take a short-cut road which turns out to be a bad idea coz the road is dug up and bad. Rajasthan raods are not as good as the Gujarat roads, that’s a striking difference between both the states

The drive is scenic with just fields on both sides, the chakdo( a special type of rickshaw, which front is made up of a bullet bike and a square block behind for people to sit inside). At about 1:00p.m we halt for some food at a Dhaba. The Dhaba is well equipped with khatiyas and small separate dinning areas under huts. The food consisting of the dal, mixed veg is extremely oily, but the parathas are nice. I am a little sad seeing the young boy who is serving us food. He must be hardly 10-15 years old and here he is earning a living for himself

On the road further we see a little bit of the desert, but it not barren, its green. All our hopes of seeing a actual desert are getting shattered, maybe the desert we imagined was just in the movies and not in real. At about 3pm we reach Jaisalmer, after a series of debate we decide to stay in the fort.

The Fort offers a variety of accommodation for the budget traveler. Our first stop is a nice hotel call Surya, but since it has squat toilets I request the other three to look for other options. We finally reach a place called Maharajas Haven or Surya Palace, and find ourselves a good room after a little bargaining for 600 bucks. The room called the dream room with a outside balcony provides a spectacular view of the golden city from the fort. This is no palace hotel, but just a small house with couple of bedrooms and baths and a restaurant at the terrace The clouds are already out and in no time it begins to pour and our dream room turns into a rainy room.

The manager- Manubhai tells us that rains are very uncommon in Rajasthan that the room is not equipped to handle the rains, he shows us another room below which is saved from the rain. Once the rain stops in the evening we set out to find a mosque for one of our mates who needs to offer his evening prayers. I am fascinated walking through the tiny lanes of the main bazzar. We stop at a saree shop to buy some sarees which one of them needs to take back home. The saree shopkeeper is friendly and tells us about the Desert Safari, advises us to go only after the rain stops, while our navigator friend ends up chatting to some one else at the Phone booth to get some information on the Safari. He also finds out that Tanot( I kept calling it Taukhat for some reason) about 200 kms away which is on the Pakistan border is also interesting place to visit. They don’t allow you to go upto the border but just near the village where there is a temple.

We all wanted to stay in a village or a desert for atleast a day, so this seemed like a interesting proposition, if we could get to stay in the village near the border

We wait for our travel mate to come back from his prayers as we sip some coffee and savour some cake at the German bakery round the corner. Our pasta fanatic friend has seen the Italian restaurant- Little Italy at the fort and we all go there for dinner. I look at a Hajam shop and enquire if I can get a oil hair massage, the guy agrees for 45 bucks but my friends think it’s a bad idea for me to get one and convince me to forget about it


The restaurant- Little Italy has a nice ambience, with table and chair seating and Indian style seating. We choose the Indian style seating and place our orders. The pasta is slightly uncooked and when we argue with the manager, he tells me this is authentic pasta, and everyone here( mainly the firangs) like it that way.

Day 3 – Jaisalmer & Desert Safari (Sunday- 11 Feb 07)

We all have a good sleep, and wake up quite late. At about 11:30 we proceed for breakfast at our hotel. It’s a nice sunny day and Savan a young boy comes to take our order. We eat as if we haven’t eaten for ages, Plates full of burjis, porridges, cereals, pakodas and toast gets wiped up in a matter of time.

Savan- The little rockstar

Savan is about 15 years old, he has been working in this hotel for about a month or so now. He is in charge of cooking as well as serving the food. He has a distinct, innocent smile on face. He is from a village close by and his father was not to keen that he studied so he dropped out of school and came here to take this job. The boy is very sweet and is more to happy to sit and chat with us every day when we go for breakfast. We ask him if there is any small village which is in a desert, where we could go and stay. He tells us about Tanot and the surrounding villages but advises us to take the Desert Safari


After a series of discussions with Manu Bhai the manager of the hotel, we finally take the safari for 550 rupees a person which would include to transport to a village near Khuri, a camel ride in the desert, accommodation under the sky with gaddis and rajai along with food. We walk around the bazzar and in to the lanes of the city to locate our other two namazi friends who have gone to the mosque to offer their prayers. I am amazed to see the small houses, all like little havelis with some carving, all of golden stones. An interesting feature to be noted is, that whenever there is a wedding in any of the house, the wedding invitation is painted on a white patch on the wall of the house. So we pass through various such invitations of weddings which have already happened from 97- 2007.
On one tiny crossroad, I come across a group of women are chatting which each other, they smile at me and the chatterbox that I am we start chatting. They tell me that its Sunday, so they are relaxed as their husbands are sleeping and they are finished their morning chores of cooking etc. My other friend is troubled by the running children around who want to look at the pictures in the camera

We do locate a mosque, but just to find out that are friends are not in that mosque so we walk further to find a mosque called Jama Masjid. At first some people think we are crazy trying to locate Jama Masjid in Jaisalmer. Anyways we finally find our friends and rush to the hotel, as we have to leave for the desert safari at 3pm.

Still much more to write... about the next 5 days.. Watch out

Mumbai Marathon – Toast to the spirit of Mumbai - 21 Jan 07

Having snoozed the alarm a couple of times I woke up with a start at 6am with the fear that I ,might just miss the marathon. Although with the little sleep and the tiring schedules that I had been having over the past couple of days, I wouldn’t mind missing it. As I boarded the train to Churchgate the atmosphere around seemed charged. It didn’t really seem like a sleepy cozy winter Sunday morning as I saw a few people dressed in tracks and running shoes waiting for the train

The train ride was so peaceful and beautiful as it passed through the little green patches in Goregaon, Parle, Khar Bandra and all through ,I could seen the orange twilight of the dawn and orange sun shinning brightly.

The journey When I got off the train at Marine lines station, I noticed a lot of more people walking in different colored t-shirts were walking along with me to the Corporate challenge area from where we would all began our run. As I walked through the lanes to Metro from Marine Lines, I couldn’t help but notice some of the most oldest and beautiful buildings across the road. They all seemed nice and bright this morning. I loved the smell of the fresh bread which was being baked at Kayani Bakery.

I spotted my gang all dressed in the orange T- shirt which I ignored to wear completely , I was running as part of my company contingent and running for Women`s cancer initiative After a wait of over a hour and half and a passing through various lines we finally began running

The Run—6 km (VT- Nariman Point- Mafatlal club- Flyover- Metro)
The atmosphere was charged, and wherever I looked I could just see people. At various spots we had the traditional dhool wala, people dressed in different outfits. Although the most annoying part was the hundreds of people who were walking not running, one had to find their way through this walking people. Maybe next year they should have a separate line for people who want to walk and not disrupt people who want to run.

The run from VT to Church gate was nothing phenomenal, except the running fountain at Flora fountain, but when I reached the bay area near Jazz By the Bay I was so taken aback by the beautiful view of Mumbai`s skyline. The sea seemed to wrapped in a thin fog and looked so peaceful and calm. I just couldn’t take my eyes off it all the way till I reached the Mafatlal baug near the flyover which we were supposed to take to get down to Metro. The only dangerous part of it was ensuring I don’t fall down as I was looking on the side instead of looking in the front. When I got on the flyover the view was ecstatic. On one side I could see a sea of people, the enthusiasm, the energy, and the other was the calm sea which seemed to be smiling just as the helicopters passed by.

When I got of the flyover and moved towards the Metro Cinema, I noticed the beautiful Fire temple. The old buildings, Braboun Irani café, the now not operational Parsi Dairy Farm. On one such neatly carved old building which was probably 5 storey tall, I noticed two old Parsi women chatting. I wondered how Bombay would have been for them 30-40 years ago. It was just about a 45 min run and I had seen another brighter side of Bombay
I saw the Bombay spirit in action as I walked back in to the holding area ground I saw a group of rag pickers standing with huge plastic bags urging me to put my plastic bottle in their bags

All in all, it was wonderful running for a marathon which gave me an opportunity to explore my city in a new light.

Shashikala- An inspiring life

In the month of July, somewhere in 1920`s in the tiny bylanes of Agra, behind the Taj Mahal in an area called Namak Mandi a girl was born to Brijbhushan Das & Revaben. It was an old house owned by the Ghanshyam Das, a well known judge during the British times. It was a huge house with a small backyard, considering the numerous births in the household, there was a separate room built for delivery of children, and a dedicated mid-wife to the family.Hospital delivery were unheard of in that era

The parents were probably delighted to see the birth of beautiful daughter, after all till now they had just had sons, and having a daughter was a welcome delight. She was white as snow white, and nothing less than a princess from a fairy tale. She was named as Shashikala, but her naughty brothers named her Chhocho, pronounced as Chho chho as they couldn’t pronounce the word Shashikala too well. In the intial years of her childhood, mother took special care of the daughters, feeding them, ignoring the brothers.

In the early years, as she along with her sisters laughed and fought with the brothers after being the victim of the numerous pranks like tying their braids together, silently putting a handful of leftover seeds in their mouth, Somewhere in the native place of her Mother, Reva ben`s, native town, Kapadwanj in Gujarat her marriage was fixed by a aunt in a house to a man, whom, not only she but even her parents had never meet. They were just a known family to her parents who had a son aged 20 years, so they decided to fix the wedding with this girl then probably aged 10.

It was probably just another holiday to Kapadwanj, when Shashikala got married in the ancestral home in Kapadwanj., She was 15 years old and she had no idea what marriage was, she was just too happy to wear the new clothes and have a feast.

When she saw her husband and his family for the first time, she wondered what was wrong, what was she doing with a family who was completely dark skinned. She was white as a snow- white and her husband black as coal and ugly looking. She felt like a celebrity for the first couple of years. She looked like a white doll and people from neighboring households came to watch her beauty. They all joked in Gujarati “ Kagro, Daithro layegayo” which basically means the crow took the diamond.

Settling in Kapadwanj, was not to easy for Shashikla, having brought up in Agra and Haldwani, they had always spoken in Hindi, she didn’t know to read or write Gujrati, the common language in the town. The only comforting factor was a good mother in law. Just as we learn to live with our circumstances, Shashikala accepted her new life and moved on. She had two sons and just when life seemed to be going smooth her husband died.

She was 25 years old when her husband died. She was determined that she was not going to live a life of pitiful widow who is rushed from one house to other to do errands. She wanted to take care of her children and give them a good future. With a supportive mother in law, Shashikala enrolled herself to read and write Gujarati. She took help from Prof, who taught her. As usual people did make stories about her and Prof, but she never let any such rumors come her way to become a teacher. She appeared for the exam and after passing that exam, she went to Teachers college almost 4 hours away from Kapadwanj. For 2 years she selflessly lived at the hostel and studied to become a teacher.

When she came back she, got herself a job at a local school and taught upto 4th grade for over 30 years, got her two sons educated and today at the age of almost 78 , she still fends for herself getting a pension every month

Shasikala is someone who has inspired me so much. A women who never had a choice to paint her future, But when did get the brush in her hand, she was determined to turn her life brighter. She took her plight as a challenge and beautifully wiped away her worries. There must have been a million aspirations and dreams of her own which she must have cremated in her heart, all for her children`s future.

Today, Shasikala is almost 79 years old, She shuttles between her grandchildren houses and hers from Kapadwanj and Bharuch, playing with her great- grand children. Her health is not in the best of conditions, but she is happy and she has no desire. She is proud of being financially independent. She gets a pension of over 4,000 rupees a month which is even more than the salary she ever earned, and is more than sufficient to take care of her expenses. She thinks that god actually gave her a new life, when her husband died. The path was challenging but the end was very rewarding.

Most importantly Shashikala is my grand aunt, my grandfather’s sister. I, now, know where I and many of my cousins and aunts get our nature and abilities, it runs in the family.