Musings From Mumbai

2006-07-15T11:00:00.000-07:00

Thanks to my rain-rides and slipping on ferry gangways, I had managed to bend my girl's handlebar. Although very minor, I could feel the discomfort while riding her on straight roads.

I narrated my trouble to my mechanic at Vakola, and he suggested a visit to the 'Pardewala' in Vile Parle. It wasn't too difficult locating the Pardewala. I took the street opposite the Centaur, near the Airport. A short ride later, it seemed allright to ask any autorickshaw chap for directions to reach the Pardewala. I did just that, and was directed to the nearby Sai Mandir and also advised to ask for directions once I am there. Getting to Sai Mandir was easy. And the people around, promptly directed me to the Pardewala.

I now know that two of the brothers are Salaluddin and Yusufuddin. Their garage is housed next to an apartment building. The nearby cycle repair shop's wall advertises the Pardewala: They don't work on Fridays. Timings are prominently displayed, and nobody is allowed to enter the garage. They have no branches.

They're highly respected in their trade and seem to be an authority at straightening vehicle's twisted necks back in shape. I think the bearded Salaluddin took my lady inside, while I was asked to wait next to their advertisment on the wall. The Pardewala led her into the garage and pulled the curtain hiding everything from sight. He emerged 5mins later, and asked me to take a ride and see if all was well. It was.

The steering felt a whole lot smoother and the handlebar and front-wheel were now perfectly aligned. I guess that's what the magic of the Pardewala, next to the Sai Mandir in Vile Parle, is all about.

2006-07-12T09:20:00.000-07:00

I went to donate blood today and the Copper Sulphate solution spoiled it. I had a low haemoglobin count again, the doctor at Tata Memorial Hospital declared.

So, me couldn't donate blood, and has voluntarily added beetroot and pomegranate to my dietary list - something my Mom never succeeded at, in all these years.

And the funniest thing happened this evening when I went shopping for grocery. Not knowing what they call beetroot in the vernacular, I pointed my finger at the maroon bulb and asked for 'shalgum' (atleast that's what I thought its called). The shopkeeper informed me that that's beetroot, shalgum is different. I am sure that the women around were snickering. I now know that shalgum is turnip. Apparently, beetroot is also called beetroot in Hindi.

2006-06-29T07:45:00.000-07:00

I am a stockholder. I am in Mumbai. And I think I could make it. And I did.

This was my first attendance at a company's Annual General Meeting. I was extremely curious to know what the AGM is all about and took some time off to attend the TCS AGM at the Birla Matushri Sabhagar, near Marine Lines. I thought it would be a very sombre affair with people in pin-stripes and well-ironed suits discussing the proceedings silently. Well, most of that variety were up on the dais. A small fraction were helping themselves to the complimentary refreshments outside and couldn't care less about the proceedings inside.

An imposing and calm, Mr. Ratan Naval Tata sat at the centre of the dais, flanked by other members of the Board of Directors of the company. I got in just when the first stockholder was allowed to put forth her questions. It felt like a Parliamentary Q&A session. The Lady recited a few quotes in Hindi and showered praises on the company. The rest of her slow and elaborate speech was in English. It didn't feel one bit like a professional meeting. The other speakers spoke at lengths and their speeches consisted mostly of prose and poetry, interjected with two or three questions. Some of the agitated ones were loud and demanding. Nobody on the dais spoke a word on the microphone, though people whispered, and everyone seemed to be excitedly scribbling on papers. Mr. Tata gently invited each of the speakers one at a time. And he made it a point to stand-up every time he announced a name, inviting a stockholder to speak.

One gentleman in his senior years, was extremely graceful. He had been escorted to the Speaker's stand by an attendant. He spoke softly and mentioned the fact that he had lost his eyesight and had reviewed the company's Annual Report with somebody's dedicated assistance. The man had dissected the company's financials in his mind and quoted figures from his memory. His questions seemed pertinent and his sense of ease, masterful. He even made suggestions, with a subtle amount of humour. The man didn't radiate the kind of aura as Mr. Tata did, but I liked the way he spoke. Strangely, Mr. Tata conducted everybody, from the irate, to the downright polite, like this elderly gentleman, with the same brusqueness - every second of his time was accountable.

The voting session, towards the end of the AGM, was another interesting highlight. People seemed over-eager to second a motion or oppose it. Mr. Tata would cast a quick glance at the number of hands up and announce, motion passed unanimously, or motion passed with clear majority. There was opposition too, but never in majority. Everything was executed swiftly, but the AGM still lasted over a few hours - I guess the man chairing this one had a reason to do so - there are 93 companies under the Tata Group, and I suppose he attends as many, if not more, AGMs every year.

2006-06-25T10:34:00.000-07:00

Made it home pretty late last night but couldn't help waking up at 0600hrs. The weather was way too good to be sleeping. Nike popped in from Pune at around 1030hrs. He didn't believe me when I said we were headed to Gorai beach. He intended to enjoy his customary hot-water bath, breakfast from Laxmi and also get some much-needed rest. I think he managed to grab a quick bite before we rode off to make it to the proposed rendezvous with TV and Suds, somewhere near SEEPZ.

Noon worked out to be the ideal time to be riding to Gorai beach. Its better known as the route to Esselworld, but we weren't even headed there. It was sunny through most of the ride and we were soon at the Ferry Boarding point at Gorai, after our brief stopover for Lassi. Its corny that the ferry halt for an amusement park is next to a massive garbage mound. In fact, this was a garbage hill, and crows and vultures hovered above. The Ferry here was much smaller than the one at Manori, with space for about 8 two-wheelers. I got my baby in, and somehow managed to keep her balanced through the short ride across the creek, cause there was no place to put her on the main-stand.

Once on the other side, Gorai isle was a different place. Most of the crowd diverted itself to the amusement park, and we guys let our engines roar on the empty road ahead. It was hard to believe that the place had a Mumbai pincode - it was devoid of the noise, pollution and traffic of the metropolis. Gorai Village was unspoilt and beautiful. TV led the way to the splendid beach and that's where most of the humanity on the island re-emerged. It was Sunday and groups of people spread across the vast expanse of the uncluttered beach.

I did a couple of things. I shunned everything until I was only in my cargoes, and then rode my baby through the waves. It was brilliant fun. Nike too, took turns and had by now stopped cribbing about being tired. Then there was the Beach shanty's chilled beer, fried chicken masala and egg bhurji to relish on.

We spent a good part of the afternoon lazing at the shanty. The sky remained overcast and the winds were strong. All of us eventually took to the water. I now know that cargoes are the last thing to be worn on a tempting beach. One dip in the water and I had sand in every inaccessible corner of my eight-pocket.

We decided to leave only when it began to get darker. It didn't make sense to go home, except that someone remembered that it was Monday tomorrow. I dried myself on the ride back. The Lady slipped on the algae-covered jetty when I least expected it. I think it'll be a major accomplishment once I've learnt to keep her from falling.

Although Nike had started the day complaining, he hadn't finished having his fun yet. It started to pour and he suggested visiting Inorbit in Malad, ostensibly to buy floaters for himself. We explored the shops at a modest 2055hrs, leaving a slug trail everywhere we went - courtesy Gorai beach. But most fun was the Liberty Revolutions store. The attendants helped us take our shoes off to try on the floaters, and there was sand all over the place. After a lot of fussing over the footwear, Nike decided against buying anything, while I made a purchase. The best thing about the whole thing - I can now enjoy the rain-rides even more, with cold water droplets splashing on my feet!

2006-06-24T11:24:00.000-07:00

Up at 0345hrs today, despite having slept at an obnoxious hour, well past midnight. We were headed to Tikona fort, in the Sahyadris. Considering the excellent arrangements, I didn't have much to do after boarding the bus - settled into the seat by the door, gracefully accepted the nicely-packed Thepalas and pickle, and soon after, dozed off. Woke up at the Food Mall halt on the Mumbai-Pune Expressway. Helped myself to a coffee and chatted up a conversation with TV. He'd done some trekking too and had even explored some places solo.

I don't know how long we had driven, but as the signs indicated that Lonavala was approaching, the enrapturing greens, characteristic of hillstations in India, began enveloping the path beyond. It was around noon, but the visibility dropped to about 30m, and the mist - added to the delighting cold.

I think we turned some 17kms before Lonavala, and went through a hamlet called Pawna Nagar. Then there was a climb, some hair-pin bends and before we could realize, the Pawna Lake was visible - looking splendid with the greenery around. The bus parked itself somewhere near the base of Tikona hill. TV and I greedily helped ourselves to the Thepalas. Thepalas and green chilli pickle taste even better in the ravenous hunger.

This was a trek-cum-plantation drive and we helped ourselves to little Mango, Banyan and Gulmohar saplings and also collected a few varieties of seeds. I found the idea of planting saplings alongside the trek route really nice. We didn't have no implements and everyone scouted around for hard twigs or sharp-edges rocks to do the pit-digging. It wasn't too tough to identify ideal spots in the moist earth and before long, we were requesting for even more saplings and seeds.

The climb uphill was comfortable, with most of the path being a modest incline. The final climb of steep stairs was quite tiring, and most of us reached the top and lazed around for a good while. It was fun finishing the apple and sandwiches lined with jam, at the top. It also gave me some time to learn of TV's passion for the beach he often visits.

The bright sun had made the climb a little tiring, so the descent in pouring rain was very welcome. We planted multiple saplings on the way back. The little exercise made me sweat inside my raincoat and I thoroughly enjoyed the cold splashes on my uncovered forehead, accompanied by warm moisture from the inside.

The drive back was brilliant in the pouring rain. Most of us were soaked to the core and we halted briefly on the Expressway to enjoy piping hot Vada Pav and steaming Coffee. This also gave us the time to confirm the plan for visiting TV's much raved about beach haunt - tomorrow.

2006-06-23T10:28:00.000-07:00

Spent time at my cousins' place in Altamount Road this evening.

There was a time when I couldn't stand Okra. I dunno how, but I seemed to have developed a taste for the dish cooked in Indian spices. My nephews seem to love the Crispy Bhindi fry prepared for them, and it tasted great when I tried it the first time today! And that's how the evening went, popping Bhindi crisps while watching the rain fall down.

The main course was Dal-Chawal-Maandia, prepared by my sisters-in-law. Anything cooked with affection tastes doubly better!

2006-06-20T06:51:00.000-07:00

Had stepped out for lunch and as I was returning, spotted the TCS CEO waiting for the elevator today. This is Mumbai. Yes, he's a Padma Bhushan awardee, he heads Asia's largest software company and he boards the elevator - just like any one of us. No, there were no bodyguards either. I was very amused. Maybe a few of the over dozen people who boarded the elevator wouldn't even know who he is. Or probably didn't care. It was weird.

I was kind of dumbstruck. Didn't know what to say or do, had he looked in my direction. This was a man I had only read about in the magazines and papers. He didn't make any eye-contact. He looked very much like any other Consultant, going about with his daily business - waiting for his floor to come as his eyes fidgeted impatiently, cramped in that elevator, just as everyone else. I know this gentleman is toasted and people pat him on his back at public functions that make newspaper headlines, but this was a closed space of 5' x 5' and everything, including this man, seemed so very ordinary, so next-door-neighbour types. I dunno what happens when a Narayana Murthy or Azim Premji move around in public spaces, though my friend from college almost ran into the Wipro Chairman when he was crossing a Bangalore street - yeah, he too was alone, unaccompanied, and very much the 'common man'.

I liked the simplicity, but couldn't savour the fact that a person who I felt is so BIG, experiences life exactly the way I do. I like this city. It sometimes makes me pine for more, much-much more, and sometimes, with experiences such as today's, it makes me feel content and very very satisfied !

You know what I want to experience next - running into Ratan Tata. And see if things work out differently. I'm not expecting a surprise anymore.

2006-06-18T10:56:00.000-07:00

I rode down to Manori island this weekend. This was more of a brash decision taken because the weather was so very good. The Eicher Map indicated that I could take the Western Expressway till Malad and then take a left for Marwe. The traffic wasn't too bad except for the stretch from Malad to Marwe. But the cool breeze made the ride a pleasure.

Marwe beach was quite crowded at 2030hrs but I knew from past experience that my girl could be taken on the ferry to cross-over to Manori island. I did manage to navigate through the sand somehow. Helped myself to a hot 'bhutta' while waiting for the ferry to arrive. Negotiating the 45° ramp was the tough bit. I thought I'd manage well with the new tyre she had, and made the incorrigible blunder of trying to ascend gradually. I skidded half-way up the ramp and the engine died. It was insane. The girl was really heavy and there was no way I could have got her up the ramp and sought help from the ferry's crew. Two chaps eventually got us up. I was nicely shaken up. I knew nothing about negotiating ramps.

The ferry ride across the creek to Manori was swift. On the other side, I decided to try my hand at getting her down. I observed the others starting their bikes and so brought her to life as well. The slide down was no better. I tried using my brake to slow her down and skidded again. Again the crew helped. I smelled leaked petrol. My fingers had numbed on getting struck by metal. When I managed to put her back on stand and inspect for damage, I could feel my heart pounding more strongly than the engine. Luckily, there was only some specks of sand that needed dusting off. I was quite disappointed with my total lack of experience at handling my girl.

People on the ferry had recommended the Manori Resort for food and drinks, but I had trouble locating it and was also low on fuel. The nearest petrol station was 2kms. behind, back in Marwe, and I decided against further exploration. Dinner was Goan Chilly pork and Beer at 'Manoribel' Resort - the first well-lit banner that I sighted. It turned out to be a pretty neat place with hammocks by the beach, though the surf was barely visible in the faint moonlight.

I was wiser from experience on the return trip and paid a crew member for loading her. I watched nervously as he revved her to a high-throttle and raced up the ramp. It took nerve, and considerable skill. The descent involved very minor braking, it was more like a free fall with a good sense of balance. It would take me a while to get this right. But the overall experience had been pretty marvellous.

2006-06-16T03:45:00.000-07:00

I don't normally travel on the Western Line. Had plans to visit Sid's place in Andheri and decided to take the fast Local from Churchgate. The Virar fast local was leaving 5mins before the Borivali fast local. People in Mumbai worship their time, and I thought I'd made a wise move by boarding the earlier one.

I was able to manage quite well until the train reached Dadar. Here's where the term 'can of sardines' loses its efficacy. One can't be better packed than a peak rush-hour Mumbai local train compartment. This was a First Class coach and I had three persons' sweat on my own face. The Veterans were barking instructions to the rookies on how to stand - apparently raising both hands and holding onto the overhead hand grip makes more space available in the compartment, and even more people can board. One person missed getting-off at Bandra station and the crowd snickered, suggesting that he would now get off only at Virar - the last stop.

I told the person beside me that I wanted to get off at Andheri - and people around me sighed loudly. It was sacrilige to be on the Virar train and wanting to get off anywhere in between. But they relented when I told them that I usually travelled on the Central Line. I was standing in the aisle, but had to literally inch my way to the exit. At Andheri, commuters were ready to board, and getting off was a nightmare. I got shoved and pushed and somehow managed to get my feet off the train. As for that gentleman who missed his stop at Bandra, he couldn't get off at Andheri either. He's not boarding the Virar local again, and neither am I.

2006-05-28T11:27:00.000-07:00

It had to be 'On Toes' tonight. Sardari and I had made plans. Hada and his IIT gang had treated me to beer at the place in 2003. The only thing I could recall was this image of a pub on the first floor (on some bustling road) that played great music. Thankfully, there's only one 'On Toes' in Mumbai. And its in Juhu. The directions were pretty straight-forward, take the Western Expressway, cross the fly-over near the Andheri Shoppers' Stop and ride straight, and then enquire?! I don't know where all I rode, but when we finally got to the place, I had lost my bearing completely, and we were both thirsty. But getting there at 2230hrs actually helped - we got a place to sit, enjoy the music and leisurely gulp the beer. We had the time to learn of Sardari's experience with these women who had invited him over to Salsa, his satisfaction at having participated in the 24hr fast at IITB, and his impending DDP submission. In between, I messaged Cheeru that I was at 'On Toes', and his prompt reply only stressed on 'the best days of college life'. We headed to Amar Juice Centre to gorge on the grilled sandwich. At a modest 0030hrs, the place was buzzing with activity.

On the ride back, we took the street perpendicular to Amar's, and as we rode along, I recognized the ALFA stores - they're numbered from 1 to 5, and scattered on both sides of the street. That's when I figured where I was. I'd been to ALFA quite a few times before - its a good place for competitively priced mobile phones and other gizmodos. Most importantly, I have reason to believe that my left hippocampus is not entirely dysfunctional - I atleast knew my way back.

2006-05-26T03:37:00.000-07:00

Woke up really fresh and invigorated at a little earlier than 0600hrs - unaided by alarm. It was pleasantly windy, and the sky wondrously cloudy. It was an awesome experience to sit by our 'cinemascopic' window, sift thru the day's Newspapers and occasionally stare at the Powai lake as water dropped lightly from the firmament.

As I left for work, I decided against putting on my wind-cheater, as my new yellow Tee and new sneakers seemed to suit the weather perfectly. I hadn't finished walking 100m and it began to pour. I hurriedly took shelter under the corrugated sheets extending from the roof of a nearby shop. Was relatively dry and was really enjoying watching the enormous droplets fall. A good number of minutes passed before I felt my feet getting moist. A cursory glance downwards revealed my new sneakers smeared with wet mud. And a closer inspection of my surroundings brought more horror - the corrugated sheets were layered in mud and grime, the rain had been washing it all down, and it had been splashing on me all this while - I was decked in mud splotches, and probably looked like I'd just finished filming Shakira's 'Suerte' video. It continued to pour, and I decided against heading home and changing clothes - my assumption was that everybody'd be soaked, damp and dirty like me. Also, I was actually enjoying the damp feel and thoroughly cherished the subsequent ride in the Local from Kanjur Marg to CST. It was the weather that did these things to me.

At CST, the happy feeling vanished. Colaba was irritatingly hot and sunny. I felt weird standing in line with other spotlessly-dressed Office-goers waiting patiently for the public transport.

I had learnt the hard way that rain does not fall all over Mumbai simultaneously.

2006-05-24T03:20:00.000-07:00

Went to Ripon Club in Fort today. Its on the same street as the Globus Store. This was my first visit to a Bawa place and it resembled a Defence Mess - really prim and proper, and similar China. Everything I had was unique. Began with sipping Watermelon juice prepared the Parsi way - served with the melon pieces in the drink. Tried this yummy Raspberry flavoured drink called Roger's. It was simply fantastic. Gorged on the Dhansak and Dal combo after layering it with fried onion toppings. And then, gorged on Coffee flavoured ice-cream. Bliss.

2006-05-16T10:34:00.000-07:00

I was really in the mood to experiment with my own recipe of a cocktail at 'Joss', Rampart Row. But I couldn't get the name of the berry I wanted to mix in my Vodka. So a Mexican friend, probably named after a romantic Simon & Garfunkel track, suggested the Mojito. The lime, mint and Bacardi White Rum combo felt perfect in little sips. But biting into the leaves was not such a good idea.

I also enjoyed the accompanying Korean Chicken starter.

The one interesting observation I've had with eating out in Mumbai is that the chocolate in the desserts always tastes superb, yet different at every place. Its too frustrating to not have dessert without some form of cocoa in it!

2006-04-30T04:40:00.000-07:00

Thaks, Andy and I went sailing today. The last time I sailed in the Arabian Sea was in 1993 - in the 'Optimist' class. This time it was the much larger 'Lightning' class, and a Tindal was to accompany us and help us with rigging the boat.

The winds hadn't picked up when we arrived at 1030hrs, so we headed to the massive Aarey booth at the Gateway of India. Their strawberry milkshake has been my all-time favourite. While still at School, a stroll to the Gateway was invariably accompanied by a halt at Aarey to enjoy that delicious shake. More than a decade later, the stuff couldn't taste better - good to the last drop.

We headed back to Jetty#5, boarded a dinghy which was rowed to the Lightning class - one among the many boats anchored opposite the Gateway. The Tindal demonstrated the how-to bit, helped us rig the sails and fix the tiller. Some effort with putting the really heavy keel in place, and soon enough, we were smoothly sailing out.

I had never got a glimpse of the Gateway of India from the water. It looked splendid. But there was way too much other stuff to check out - some of the better looking luxury yachts, the magnificent Taj Mahal Palace Hotel, an imposing SeaKing helicopter taking-off from the nearby base, plus over a hundred pairs of eyes watching us enjoy our ride. The wind was pleasant, and although we weren't exactly clocking high speeds, alternating between being Crew, being Helmsman, or just plain standing on the bow, was much too enjoyable.

2006-04-07T03:45:00.000-07:00

The Nurse at Hinduja Hospital had sent me back as I was 'unfit' to donate blood - my blood drop took longer than the ideal 15seconds to sink to the bottom of the Copper Sulphate solution. I'd gone to donate blood for a friend's aunt, but they would have none of it. Plus I got some sound advice on improving my diet. The Complete Blood Count (CBC) confirmed the figures - I had a not-so-impressive count of 11g/dL. That was 8 months ago.

So, today, when I was feeling exceedingly healthy, and had, in the process, also regained my nerve to approach Nurses at Blood Donor Rooms - a visit to the Tata Memorial Centre followed. It was so satisfying - my blood drop sank swiftly, the Doctors on duty smiled, I took to the couch, the friendly Nurses did their bit, the TV screened some jhatka-matka song, got treated to a coffee and leisurely stepped out. Keeping track, there's 142 still left.

2006-02-08T05:14:00.000-08:00

I managed to get the girl insured. And now that I had all the necessary papers, it was high time to get her registered in Maharashtra. Some preparatory phonecalls to random Regional Transport Offices (RTOs) confirmed that I was to apply at their Worli office.

I wanted to do this on my own, and anticipating a huge rush at the RTO on a mid-week morning, I set off at 0845hrs. Its not difficult to get directions in Mumbai - initially, it was directions for Worli, then directions for Worli RTO. I followed my directions. And reached somewhere. The place was buzzing with some activity. And I thought I was finally there. It was the Traffic RTO. And they don't do registrations there. Was fortunate that the constable at the gate told me where I should be headed - a short ride uphill, right next to I.N.S. Trata, is the RTO (East). Strangely, at 1015hrs, this place was eerily desolate. Praying that it was not a holiday today, I enquired with the chai-wallah. I was asked to hang around for a while, for I was in too early.

The Staff made their entry soon after, but the opening of the counters took still more time. I had managed to collect a copy of the forms required. The Clerk at the window told me to fill the dilapidated sheets with caution, they were the last ones left. The fun was in submitting the meticulously-filled forms in highly-legible hand-writing. The Clerk incredulously enquired who filled them. I don't think vehicle-owners normally update forms themselves. Other than a few unclear fields, I'd fared pretty well on the form-fill exercise.

Despite most RTOs being branded as sloppy Government Offices, the flow here was pretty systematic. I was directed to a numbered window. The Clerk there would update my docs and initial them, and direct me to another window. As I moved from one window to the next, the Clerks had reviewed my supporting docs, computed the fees that was payable, accepted the fees and issued receipts, and finally forwarded my application to the Asst. RTO requesting approval to issue fresh plates, post-inspection of my vehicle. This bit was the most interesting. The Asst. RTO's Attendant accepted my application and told me to return after an hour. It made no sense. I was the first and only person in line. So I hung around at the Counter. As the clock ticked, people appeared with heaps of forms in their hands - they wouldn't wait in line. They'd just walk inside, place the heap with the Attendant and place a random sum of money on the heap. It looked random, initially, until I realized that it was a fixed commission. The Attendant would count the number of applications and charge a proportional sum. I was expecting this, but had no idea it would be this well-organized. The Attendant kept asking me to return later, but I stuck around. I had no reason to move. I had completed all the formalities and only needed one signature. I think it got embarassing for the Attendant watching me stare at him as he collected the commission - and he eventually obliged. Am sure he hated my guts. Now the vehicle inspection remained. It took place around noon and went off smoothly - I had to read the numbers on my chassis and engine. The Inspector matched them with the details on my docs, and added his initials to others already present.

There was only one thing missing - an Affidavit. And he was kind enough to give me directions to the Notary who could issue it. Further, I was told that if I submitted the Affidavit before 1530hrs today itself, all the procedural formalities would be complete. So I followed them instructions, got to Tardeo RTO, found my Notary, got my Affidavit and dashed back.

It was a good feeling. My request for registration change would be complete with the submission of the Affidavit. Most of my friends balked at the very thought of having to visit the RTO. And there was me having this all-time high from not having bribed anybody. In my state of elevation, I rode-on straight, after a brief halt at the Haji-Ali signal in the right-turn-only lane.

I was promptly flagged down by the Traffic cop. My license was taken, and out came the Receipt book. I would need to collect my license the next day I was told. No, the pleading didn't help. The thought of surrendering my license was big time discomforting. So I shyly pulled out this crisp currency note from my wallet and put it into his Receipt book. He gasped 'You'll get us both killed' in chaste Hindi. Ok, confidence returned. I snatched my license back from his hand and he goes 'Why are you in such a hurry?' That was it. Case closed. I was let off. Donned my helmet, and rode silently, back to the RTO(East).

The only thing on my mind was submission of my papers before the deadline. Managed it.

2005-10-02T10:57:00.000-07:00

Caught up with Rosh after 12yrs. We were at the Cathedral and John Connon School together. Home was Colaba then, Powai now. Class VII then, YUPPIEs now. We figured today would be just excellent to finally meet up. Headed to IMAX Adlabs, Wadala. Most of life had been tracked over one huge phonecall. So the car-ride was mostly about how much life had changed - how the women created trouble and the likes of it..

By the time we got to Adlabs, the women had still not arrived, so we actually got some time to check out the gorgeous statue of the skating girl outside the theatre. Its so big, that it really can't be appreciated from close-by. I felt it looked more stunning when viewed from a distance, or maybe better, if I could get an aerial view.

The last time I watched an IMAX film was at Manchester - some terrific film on the Grand Canyon which lasted less than an hour. Small tiny theatre, that was. The IMAX Dome at Wadala, is apparently the largest of its kind in the world. I was sure a Johnny Depp film would be a treat to watch, even if it got dizzying..

Rosh's girl, Annapoo and her roomies (Nit and Ashu) made it 2mins. before the movie was set to begin. This was the first time we were hearing of an autorickshaw driver in Mumbai who didn't know his way to this Theatre. The Dome was indeed massive. We missed the first few minutes of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, and finding 6 seats together was priority one. So, we soon found ourselves somewhere in the lowest five rows - at a 120º incline - maybe more. And I was kinda uncomfortable in a coupla minutes.

But the movie was fantastic. Strangely, it was not Depp, and not even Highmore that had me laughing, but this other Gent, whom I actually had to read up about - Deep Roy. He's done stuff with Tim Burton before, but his role as the Oompa Loompas (yeah, he was all of them), was perfect. There's no dialogue from his end. He just dances to wackily choreographed dance sequences in costumes that resembled the Teletubbies' stuff, and enjoys the chocolate, of course. It was stupid as hell, but it had me laughing loud and that's what I loved.

I liked the story, though I haven't yet read the book. Loved the presentation on chocaholism.

Twice a day, on his way to and from school, little Charlie Bucket had to walk right past the gates of the factory. And every time he went by he would begin to walk very, very slowly, and he would hold his nose high in the air and take long deep sniffs of the gorgeous chocolatey smell all around him. Oh, how he loved that smell! And oh, how he wished he could go inside the factory and see what it was like.
~Roald Dahl

None of us bought any chocolate at the end of the show. Instead, Annapoo bought lovely candy.. Strange thing that the movie doesn't really help market chocolate; it does make you feel good about the whole thing though.

We lounged about at Moca in Hiranandani after that. Watching a movie in the Dome Theatre was tiring, and annoying. I was kinda exhausted. But the Moca unwind was worth it. Ashu was cornered and we were really howling at her expense. These Lawyers were so much fun.

2005-09-18T10:43:00.000-07:00

'Twas the first official get-together of the Inddiethumpers at Carter Road, Bandra since the group restarted club activity. Considering my hopeless navigation skills, I fixed up the SEEPZ Main Gate as the rendezvous so that I could join the other Bulleteers as they headed from there to Carter's.

The ride was fun. There was some trouble in between with some dirt clogging my petrol line. A little sucking and later, blowing air into the tank, helped to have my Lady rolling again.

The Carter Road rendezvous is similar to what the Madrasbulls did at Besant Nagar beach in Chennai. So, it brought back nice memories of South India. There were plenty of Royal Enfields - all the clubbers.

Later, I headed to Colaba, to visit Navy Nagar. Was brilliant to be there again after ages. The place is secure like a war-zone, but has been beautified immensely. Was treated to some awesome payasam, that had been dispatched exclusively for me, from New Delhi.

I rode back home along the expressway. The ride was immensely pleasurable, the traffic being minimal.

2005-09-10T08:16:00.000-07:00

Today's experience left me laughing and sighing at the same time. Working in the SEEPZ SEZ has its advantages - its so near to home. It also has its disadvantages - they have strict rules - that me was unaware of. I had just finished with my Office chores and was returning home when I was stopped by the SEEPZ Security at Gate #3. He wanted to search my bag.

'Coz I thought I had nothing to hide, I gave him the entire bag. He unzipped it, and pushed his hand inside, probably felt something hard, and enquired what it was. Normally, I would have kept my huge trap shut, and told him what it probably was not - my hardbound Diary, but I was in a lighter moods, interested in messing around - so I remarked 'Camera'. I regret having said that.

The man looked amused. He enquired, 'Camera ?!' and then asked me if I could show it to him. Not realizing what a mess I was gonna get myself into, I casually, took the camera out. This was my old Olympus, with no gadgetry to play around. The chap would probably have one look at it, and put it back, me thought.

Instead, he took the camera, and then asked for my SEEPZ Id. I showed it to him. I figured the Q&A was over and he'd probably let me go. Instead he asked me to surrender my SEEPZ pass. I had committed a Security violation, breach of SEEPZ rules, the repercussions would be enormous, I was told. The fine was a modest Rs. 10000/-. Plus, I'd be answerable to the SEEPZ Security Officer for bringing a banned electronic good inside the premises. Ouch. I was in trouble.

Its interesting that this man was not really here to fine me. This was a fine opportunity to make money. I was asked to step inside the Security cabin. There, he put forth his offer - with one hand on the phone (with a threat that he'd call SEEPZ Security any moment), he said I could get out of this mess if I parted with Rs.5000/- only. That was still too much.

The camera wasn't worth that much, although the snaps in that 36roll film are, probably, priceless. Anyhow, with a little more cribbing, he brought down his demand to Rs.2000/-, which was further cut in half. The man was getting desperate. He finally stopped at no less than Rs. 800/- and I had 5minutes to arrange the cash and take my camera back.

I usually carry enough money to get me home by bus, and maybe buy myself a fizzy drink, if am thirsty. So this cash needed to be arranged. I was really in no mood to part with the money and thought of ways to inform the Vigilance Department so that this chappy could be caught red-handed. But it wouldn't work. I was the one at fault, and I guess it made more sense to pay up and shut-up. So, I tried to buy time in order to arrange the cash.

When I returned, I went straight into his cabin with the cash in my hand. The chap was nervous as hell. He asked me to state how much money it was. I told him it was all the money I had collected from friends - about Rs. 450/-. He uttered some sort of a cry and took the cash from my hand and stuffed it in his pocket. In a swift move, he handed me the camera and told me to get the hell out of there - and not mention this to anybody. Yuck Man. I was hating this.

Anyhow, now that I was done with the crappy part, I asked the man if I could make a phone call.

When you pay someone a bribe, you actually buy him out.
He happily obliged.

So I used the SEEPZ phone, with my camera still in the bag, to call up Nike, that I'd be late for lunch. The man hung around, hoping I wasn't alerting any authorities.

Then, as I stepped into the Autorickshaw, I realized, I had no spare change left on me. Ludicrous though it may sound, I went back to my Security chappy and told him that 'coz he had taken all my money, I had no cash left to get home. I dunno why I did that, but I was just in the mood for some fun. The chap actually lent me Rs.20/- as change for my ride home !

People come cheap here.

2005-08-28T21:09:00.000-07:00

Bene sent me a message this morning that had me in splits.

"On Friday here was a Holiday for Krishna's Birthday so I went to Agra where I was till Sunday.Saw the Taj and its Splendid!"

Its all a matter of perspective. Sigh! Krishna, the naughtiest and most loved of the Gods in the Hindu Pantheon - you rock man!!

2005-08-28T11:29:00.000-07:00

Got treated to karaoke night at 'Not just Jazz, by the Bay' by Angel. The place is fun, considering that the singing begins at a modest 2200hrs. There were some amazing crooners at the place though the party seemed to have gained tempo only around midnight.

It takes amazing creativity to announce that the last train from VT leaves at 12:30, at 12:30. Well, that's Angel.

I think we were plain fortunate to be in lovely Mumbai with even lovelier people.. I took suggestions (sheepishly) from the Bouncers on 'How do I get home', rather 'We'. They suggested the bus to Mahim, then a cab to Powai. I thought I'd get home by 3AM, if I was lucky.. there was only a Monday to look forward to !

Boarded a Taxi requesting to be dropped to the bus-stand that would get us the Mahim bus. The cab driver told us the most sensible thing to do - and he dropped us off at Churchgate - to get the last 12:50 train. Whew. God Bless that Taxi man.

Crashed at 0200hrs.

2005-08-27T07:02:00.000-07:00

Had the most amazing experience of my life today. Was supposed to be part of a trek to the Nagla Block in Ghodbunder, part of the Sanjay Gandhi National Park. Did not wake up on time and consequently missed the bus that was arranged. But I just felt like doing it and so I co-ordinated with the others, took directions and set-off on my own, hoping to make it to the venue, sooner or later.

This is where things got interesting. I was able to reach Borivali, because I knew the bus routes till there, but beyond, it gets complicated. So, I took directions for Ghodbunder and boarded the first bus that came my way. I asked for a ticket to Ghodbunder in chaste Hindi. The conductor explained that Ghodbunder is a village, and I must know where I need to get off. So I told the man to hold on a sec, while I tried to get directions by calling a friend. The communication switched to English and I got instructions to take a ticket to the Fountain Hotel, get off there and walk to the National Park, where the others would have gathered. Now's the best part..

I hadn't finished taking instructions, and the Conductor said 'Here you go.. here's your ticket to Fountain Hotel'. For a second, I was not sure if the Khakhi-uniform-clad Conductor had said that to me, or was it the voice on the phone - the English was impeccable. I have lived in Chennai, where the medium of communication is usually English, especially for outsiders who don't folllow the vernacular.. but this was freakin Mumbai. And here, Hindi and Marathi rock.. But this time it was pure English. I was so shocked that for a second I didn't respond.

Now, I've watched Amitabh Bachchan on TV. The man's a genius. He's respected across the country for his immense talent and suave mannerisms. And in his interviews, he always responds in the language that he's queried in. I thought I'd give it a shot. For most people around here, speaking in Hindi is taken as an affront. So, even if you ask for directions in Hindi, people reply in English. Although, not everybody is like that. But this time, the Conductor was speaking in English, and I decided to continue speaking in English. So I thanked him and asked him to please tell me when I should get down. To which he replied, in smooth form, 'Sure, I'll let you know when to get off'. Man, I was speechless. Really impressed. It's not everyday that I'd get to speak to a BEST Conductor in English, that has better diction than my former Bosses !

The ride to Ghodbunder was smooth. I got off at the Fountain Hotel. I liked the fact that the Conductor was smiling as I left the bus.. he probably knew what I was thinking. And I was loving it that I had missed the bus in the first place. Mumbai is full of surprises.

I managed to join the party on their trek to Vasai creek (the entry point was somewhere on the Ahmedabad expressway). Mostly a green dirt path. The crowd was noisy and that brought the chances of spotting even a wild dog to zero.

The end point was this small patch of Mangroves and a mostly-lifeless Vasai Creek. But the greenery was enchanting.

Somewhere, we took another path and reached this little waterfall. Tried climbing up along the rock-ridden path to get to the source but never quite got there. But it was still nice to be able to enjoy all this within Mumbai's city-limits.

On the way back, we briefly halted under this natural bamboo canopy. It suddenly started to pour, and we all huddled together under the bamboo shoots. It didn't make sense to take shelter under bamboo shoots initially, but when we actually managed to stay dry, I realized that the growth had stopped most of the water from wetting us.

The best part.. the sound of rain all around you, and you can't actually see them raindrops. Well, nearly.

2005-07-28T09:57:00.000-07:00

Thakkar and I were on location at Ghatkopar - to take snaps of the flooding. Thakkar's one of Cheeru's mates from College. And its striking that we both share an interest in doing things for sheer amusement. Thakkar, incidentally, is also the man who inspired Pondy to pick up his Canon S1IS.

We first headed to HN, where, thanks to really good planning, there was no dirt to be found. So we scouted to Powai Lake, and found some lads having a good time.

But that was not enough.. So we headed all the way to Ghatkopar, scouting for a photogenic location.. meaning floodwater. With little luck at Ghatkopar, and an ice-cream later, we headed back to some intersection, that we had spotted enroute.

That's where we grabbed about 30 odd shots. Quite a few of them featured here.

It was time, once again, to admire the everyday Mumbaikar - It was business as usual. And some people were all-smiles before the camera. There was a lot of flooding at that intersecton. Some vehicles stopped, sputtered, and moved on. Others just stalled. And Thakkar floated boats.

While I captured.

2005-07-26T11:01:00.000-07:00

The sky had been overcast since morning. But it really started to pour around 1130hrs. And it didn't stop after that.

I could see it pour through the window in my office. SEEPZ is not a low-lying area and the water didn't seem to accumulate, so I never realized how bad it was outside.

Meanwhile, life inside the Office continued normally till around 1530hrs. Till the network crashed. The problem with technology and work these days, is that it takes an Internet failure to convince oneself that something is wrong.

Even, then I didn't realize that something was terribly terribly wrong. I did, however, realize that the rains had still not stopped. So I stepped out to watch the rain pour from the safe confines of our Office Porch. There was water, plenty of it, but it somehow, managed to drain out effortlessly. Even then, the road had a ½ inch layer of water. That didn't look too bad.

Angel called. She was freaking out in Churchgate and had taken the sensible decision of leaving office early and of putting up at a friend's place in Colaba instead of heading home to Thane. Apparently, the Railways had to shut down train services because of the heavy rains. She called me up twice, enquiring why I had not left office yet. I was stupid enough to tell her two things:

1. That she need not worry, because I had an efficient bus service to get me home.
2. I was enjoying my work and would be leaving at 1830hrs after I'd finished my stuff.

When I stepped out finally, there were no buses in sight. All the familiar faces at work were stranded. Men and women huddled together under single umbrellas and it initially looked fun. I waited with the others for about 30mins expecting the bus to turn up. Then, we all realized that there's no way the bus would be able to enter SEEPZ, thanks to the traffic blocking the entrance. So I stepped out with a colleague who had an umbrella. Now I know that you cannot survive with a windcheater in the Mumbai rain. It spares nobody.

Outside SEEPZ' Gate#III. There was chaos. There is usually some order in Mumbai traffic. But today evening there was none. Every vehicle was jostling for space. The under-construction flyover and the construction materials piled on either side of the road, helped in making things worse. The water was about 2inches high. I was in formals and my favourite leathers.

We still had hope for our reliable bus. But after another half an hour of waiting and watching the traffic move 6feet in that period, we were convinced that waiting for the bus would be stupidity. So we thought we'd walk to the end of the road, where the mess would hopefully, be cleared.

As we trudged along, I enjoyed the spirited Mumbaikars. People were totally soaked in the rain but singing. One Sardarji had set up shop selling umbrellas. Atleast that's what I think, because he had 3 of them stacked under his arm. People in their cars were stuck, sandwiched by the traffic in front and behind.

As we crossed the bridge near the L&T complex, we glanced over to see people wading through waist deep water. People had abandoned their motorbikes at somewhat higher locations. I saw riders walking with their helmet on. But everyobdy had some destination to head for, and for a change, nobody was interested in stopping for shelter.

As we stepped on the Jogeshwari-Vikhroli Link road, beyond the Shipping Corporation of India office, the water level had crossed 4inches. We were not feeling tired. Nobody had stepped for breath on the traffic-congested road and we continued to brisk-walk. As we walked parallel to the Powai Lake, traffic coming from IIT was moving at a snail's pace - I figured why - visibility was a low 10feet.

The rain started pouring harder. I think that side of town is a little low-lying. Water was now 2feet high. And it was tough to walk on the road. So we walked on the divider. I was able to finally spot my high-rise building. It stood out like an edifice in the rain. But I still had to turn into my lane. I felt as if I am standing in a roaring river. It was dark but thankfully there was no power failure, so I was able to make out the centre of the road and spot the whirlpools made by the open manholes. I managed to wade through the thigh-high water. I held on to a bus windows' grill with one-hand as I treaded ahead slowly.

I finally made it home. Didn't take the elevator. Climbed all the way up to the 6th floor to find no one home. It was 8PM. We had walked 8km in the rain. Me was hungry. But the only choice was to catch up with my roomies. I knew where to find them. And, so I headed to IIT. My colleague decided to take the risk of heading home in the rain. There was no way any of us were coming to work the next day anyway.

At the KReSIT building, the elevators had been turned off. The water was pouring through their closed doors. I climbed another 4storeys. My mates greeted me with smiles 'We were expecting you'.

At 2100hrs, I left for home again. With the keys. Picked up some milk, bread and jam on the way. Pitied the clothstore owner opposite the IITB gate, who was desperately collecting water in buckets and throwing it out of his flooded shop. Soon, even he gave up, pulled his shutters and left. Other bystanders enjoyed their Vada Pavs and chai. It was life, as usual.

2005-07-24T11:07:00.000-07:00

We took the Škoda Octavia and brand new Innova on our drive to Aurangabad. With Dhruvs at the wheel. I really appreciate the guy's vehicular control ability - just like his Dad. I think we hit 110kmph when Aerosmith was playing.

Think it took us about 4hours. Ellora Caves were the first stop. The tourist guide was brilliant. Most guides are paid to be heard, and so it was. The chappy wanted complete silence as he spoke. He described the monolithic structure that stood there, the effort that took thousands of artisans to create such a stunning structure, the finer points in the Shiva Parvathi sculptures, and even recommended the right spot to focus the camera from.. sometimes they seem to know too much.

Later, I got to take the wheel of the Innova. That's when we headed to the Daulatabad Fort. I was severely criticized for driving at 60. Everyone else thought it was too slow, and I was freaking out at going any faster: music or no music in the background. But it was one hell of a beauty - that drive, along the semi-ghat roads.

The fort had some interesting labyrinths inside - purportedly designed to outsmart enemy frontmen. The techniques were simple, but the Guide, with his entertaining descriptions made the experience even more fun.

The last stop was Bibi ka Maqbara - kind of like a mini Taj. This was the funniest experience. This over enthusiast Guide wanted to read out his Sher Shayari to us, and eventually did - it was the most horrible sher I have heard. The guy actually had the nerve to stare at us and expect an encore.

I alighted at Aurangabad station. Was to take the train back to Mumbai at 2205hrs. An entire weekend utilized, in style.

2005-07-23T10:48:00.000-07:00

Was lazing around till late morning. Until Paale had this sudden brainwave of driving into town for a haircut. Actually found time for a fantastic breakfast at Vaishali.. Opposite Fergusson College. The only trouble was the wait time. But the Waiter was fun - he took the trouble of confirming that he had Sweet Meethi Lassi - he could see I was starving, and consequently, couldn't think.

Later, Paale took the trouble of taking me to FTII - haven for film buffs in India. To catch up with school time buddy - Nambiar. After some enquiries with the scant population on campus, got directions to his room. Was informed that his room-mate was in. And when I knock, this pretty lady peeks through the door and enquires 'Yes?'. Yikes. Nambiar? The chick in his room was very unlike the Nambiar I knew.

But she explained - room-mate's fiancee et al, and clarified things. Finally found Nambiar in the library in the Admin block. Clean shaven - head inclusive. And bandana in place. But just the same. Forgot to take his autograph though, the guy's likely to be a major film-maker any time soon.. My buddy!

After a light snooze at home, caught up with Malpani alongwith Paale at Barista, Koregaon Park - home of the Osho clan. The place has its advantages - a coffee shop with almost no space in the inside - but with sprawling greens outside.. so you just spread out and chill with the coffee. That gave us ample time to catch up on life.. And laugh.

1930hrs - 'Twas time to gather for a School Reunion - inside the Pune University Campus. I don't know why Campus Security persons in India - overdo their job. Seven staffers at the University Gate repeated the same question - 'Where we were going ?' before letting us through. Luckily a 4km drive into the Campus depths gave us plenty of time to return to party-mode from frustrated-disgusted-tired mode.

Was too much fun getting together with classmates again. This was probably the fourth time I was attending a formal reunion of Alumni. And the best part has always been the introductions, ending with the words 'Class of xx'.

And what followed was even better.. Caught up with Dhruvs, Vids and Adp4 and family that night, meeting them after ages. There was a time when I treated them like li'l kids. Now, I am the puniest of the lot. But its lovely that I still get called Bhai.

2005-07-22T11:25:00.000-07:00

Was at Pune again. Me was getting better with the routes. So alighted at Shivaji Nagar. Then took a bus to catch up with Paale at his workplace (he really obliges by leaving Office after I have arrived) and Sovan, the Architect. Absolute bliss at the Hotel Ambassador - beer with friends.

2005-07-17T19:00:00.000-07:00

Took charge of Home Sweet Home today.

Had been really comfortable in the splendid company accomadation at Malad with a terrific roomie - Sunil. Plus it takes some effort to be back on your own when you've been so well cared for..

But.

My new place overlooks Powai lake. My bedroom window opens up to a pretty interesting view of the Hiranandani buildings.

Work is about 20mins away. And IITB is across the road. What more could I ask for?

2005-07-16T07:45:00.000-07:00

Woke up to Paale preparing an Omelette breakfast for the the two of us. Had never realized that a can of Kingfisher tastes so good in the morning. Yum.

Af'noon was at Joshi Uncle's place. He and Dad were colleagues on the mighty I.N.S. Viraat and the bear-hug that we gave each other lasted for.. eternity.

The best part was meeting up with friends whom I last met 12years ago. Its difficult connecting the 6year old then, to the same 18year old now.

Later that evening, caught up with Nibs - at the Jehangir Hospital Cafetaria. Got treated to sandwiches and iced Tea which tasted yummy. Hadn't met this guy since finishing high school, 7years ago. And he's a married man now. Quite a shocker of a trip!

2005-07-15T11:15:00.000-07:00

My first visit to Pune turned out to be super swell - with me wanting more out of the lovely city. Dashed off pretty early to grab the train from Andheri to cST. It took me a while to spot the obscure platform on Andheri Station from where CST-bound trains leave.

Boarded the Deccan Queen at 1700hrs from CST. The train departed at a sharp 1710hrs. The ride to Pune was fun - especially the part when she crosses Lonavala. The place is simply gorgeous and you'd be gaping at the greens even if you were crossing the place everyday. Its got hajaar tiny waterfalls all along the route and quite a few tunnels. Man, the ride was brilliant. I quite liked the Deccan Queen as well. The have a Pantry car, complete with dining tables and chairs and sipping a hot cuppa in a train moving through heaven, was actually worth the while. And best of all, she got us there 10mins. before time.

Pune Station was mostly chaos. The bus-stop was across. Pune's buses are some sort of midget variety, compared to Mumbai's BEST. And they look cute. It wasn't too tough finding the one that'd get me to Paale's office, near the famous Chaturshingi Temple. Paale was my senior at College. He can be listed among the few reasons to stick around in Engineering. The guy has not changed much. His humour and spontaneity are intact, and so were the huge gaps in his teeth.

We drove down to E-Square Cinemas and got our tickets for Sarkar - 2355 show. Their Foodcourt had everything edible on the Menu, but both us were game for sabji, dal, roti and Lassi. So that's how it was.

Sarkar was quite interesting. Having watched 'The Godfather' made me draw parallels. But the Indian element made it amusing. I particularly liked Veerendra Saxena, Sarkar's right-hand man. The guy looks cut-out for the role with the shaven head. And he intimidates to perfection. I don't know how they thought of smashing a man's groin using a dumb-bell. And then filming it.

The other chappy I've begun to admire is Abhishek Bachchan. The 'Maine Bhaiyya ko maar daala' scene was executed to perfection. Have been a big fan of his since Yuva happened.

We headed to Koregaon Park after that as Paale was raving about the Barista outlet there. But it was closed, so we headed home. To be toasted to Glenfiddich. On the rocks. The weekend was made.

2005-07-09T09:53:00.000-07:00

I needed to get to Elphinstone Road. One needs to travel from Malad station to Dadar and then switch to a different railway line, to get to Elphinstone Road. Me didn't realize that I could have bought a single ticket from source to destination. So I had to queue up twice. People here respect time and queues. But they're impatient when it comes to boarding and alighting from trains. I reached Elphinstone Road somehow in one piece.

The Tata Memorial Centre has a massive blood bank. They offer an AIDS Diagnostic Test to all voluntary blood donors. The clause is that my report would be stated to me only - and that too verbally. I would have to come in person the next day. No printouts are offered. And all data is strictly confidential, and hence not given over the phone, even if I called. An AIDS Diagnostic test with so many clauses does not make sense to me. I guess the stigma associated with AIDS in India requires such painful considerations to protect the identity of an unfortunate carrier.

I got the test done and donated the blood too. It didn't hurt one bit. In fact, this time I didn't even feel the needle prick. Was mightily impressed with the Nurse's ability.

On my way back, I tried Jumbo King's Vada Pav. This is Mumbai's most famous dish. And 'Jumbo King' has made the distribution of Vada Pavs to Mumbaikars a sophisiticated, hygienic hands-free process. The Vada Pavs are machine made and are served piping hot in paper packaging just like the famous fast-food joints. There's no ketchup, instead one gets to enjoy delicious tamarind chutney. The long queues probably mean good business..

Later that evening, Bene and I headed to Manori. I had not anticipated that we'd be travelling such a long distance for a night of uninterrupted fun. We had directions to take the bus to Marwe from Malad station. Got to Marwe at a modest 2330hrs. From there, we boarded a ferry that took us across the creek to blissful Manori. The ride lasted a short 15mins and the ferry was packed with young couples and other party animals like us. Except that everybody had their bikes.

A long auto ride brought us to the Palm Beach Resort. Was greeted by the other AIESEC Trainees - Renato from Brazil, Gonzalo from Uruguay, Alexandru from Romania, Marco from Ecuador, Xavier from France... Within minutes we realized we had a lot in common - a passion for good beer, and rock music.

The Palm Beach resort consists of independent cottages, overlooking the sea. They even have a swimming pool. Its all nice and quiet. They give you the beds and serve you good dinner. You get your own beer and guitar. And play all night. Which is precisely what happened.

So I had got to enjoy an unplugged rendition of the best tracks of GNR, John Denver, Cranberries, Ugly Kid Joe, Metallica, Aerosmith, Bon Jovi.. you name it.

I also got a first-hand experience of Mumbai culture. There was this Group of music lovers in the neighbouring cottage. They too, were obsessed with their music. And their rum. We shook hands. Had our introductions. And even played and sang together. This went on till next morning. Slowly, one by one, each person started retiring to the cots. Until just me and this guitarist Dude was left. It was probably 5AM. And then he too stopped. Said 'Ok. Good night'. And that was the end. I didn't expect such an abrupt end. But I'm getting used to it now. In Mumbai, you can have a good time together and still remain strangers..

2005-07-08T11:17:00.000-07:00

It was my first weekend after a demanding first week in Mumbai. Ben and I hit the streets at a modest 2230hrs. We crossed over to Malad (West). I didn't know we needed a valid ticket to use the Railway bridge. The penalty was pretty steep too. Ben had spent enough time here to be aware of a pedestrian bridge which provides free access to the West. There are rules in Mumbai and its good that I was learning them quickly.

We headed to 'Slice of Lime' for some very enjoyable drought beer. Both of us guzzled a pitcher together. Apart from the lovely music, the place also had some very amusing witticisms on the tablemats:

'The average woman would rather have beauty than brains, because the average man can see better than he can think.'

'When in charge, ponder
When in trouble, delegate
When in doubt, mumble.'

2005-07-04T11:27:00.000-07:00

I explored Malad (East) this morning. Its a small quiet place with a lot of undulating landscape. Even this part of town was unsurprisingly active in the morning. I had been put up at our Company Guest House in Upper Govind Nagar, near Dindoshi Flyover. The area has a high concentration of temples. Somewhere in between, I was also able to spot all other necessary shops, including an air-conditioned hair salon, a videogame parlour, but not a cybercafe !

Today was my first day at work in Mumbai. If I go back 12yrs in time, I don't remember having ever imagined that I'd be someday working in Mumbai. Taking the Local Train all dressed up in formals 'n' leather shoes and getting squeezed to a pulp from all the directions. Am kinda fortunate that I don't have to experience all that.. I took the Company bus to work this morning. Its a door-to-door service and makes life a hell lot easier in fast-paced Mumbai.

The ride to work was fantastic - my companion was Bene - an AIESEC trainee from Kenya. Bene is from the Egerton University in Nakuru Province. He surprised me with his expertise with colloquial Hindi and even better, colloquial Tamil ! Bene had spent sometime at my Company's office in Chennai as well. It was a pity we never met there. We shared the same affection for Chennai. And he had me in splits with his experience of travelling in Chennai's public transport - people mistook him as Tamilian and would start chattering rightaway..

We discussed each other's culture, the language, the social setup and ofcourse, leading a bachelor's life. He taught me to wish 'Habari' in Swahili, to which you'd ideally get the reply 'Mzuri'. Better still, he recommends, is to use the 'Jambo' greeting.

Somewhere along the route, the discussion deviated to the Ramayana and Bene discussed the Brahmastra. I was stunned. He knew a lot. And I listened. He had watched every episode of the Ramayana which was telecast in Kenya with English subtitles. I knew less about Indian mythology than him ! He'd also watched some Amitabh Bachchan movies i Nigeria. And had bored himself to death with Rajnikant movies that were consistently telecast on Chennai's movie channels !

Later, in the evening, I was introduced to Kenyan nomenclature. Bene's last name is Thiga - which is his paternal Grandfather's name. His younger brother has a last name that comes from his maternal Grandfather. I've forgotten what the third brother's last name would logically be. But it was pretty straightforward. The sisters took their last names from the Grandmas ! Kinda neat, me thinks.

Work was fun. I report to two Mumbai-bred Tamilians, Chennai-roots. I think I'm going to love my time here.

2005-07-03T11:27:00.000-07:00

Visited the Siddhivinayak Temple in Prabhadevi today. This was something like the Sri Venkateswara (Balaji) Temple visit to Tirupati. The Lord beckoned and I really wanted to go too. Things happened automatically thereafter. Me woke up before day-break and Mansukh, Nike and I caught up at Dadar Station. The famed temple was a short taxi ride away.

The place is usually thronged with devotees and Mansukh's idea of us being present at 0730hrs at the Temple Gates worked well. Darshan was over within minutes and I moved around the premises admiring the place.

Later, we headed to Modakam - a small restaurant near the Temple itself. Its been recently renovated and the proprietor chose to adorn the place with gorgeous stained glass artwork of the Elephant-God ! The place looked marvellous. Modakam, apparently, is the prasad offered to the deity.

We headed to Worli seaface after that. It was a short bus-ride away. I have lived in Mumbai previously but never been to that part of town. Liked every bit of what I saw. The wharf is mostly clean, and the crashing waves tend to splash all over the paved stonewalk. Some kids were really having a blast. I've reached a stage that I can tolerate any amount of rainwater on me but not the salty seawater.

2005-07-02T11:29:00.000-07:00

I requested that I be transferred to Mumbai. Not that I had any qualms with staying in Chennai. In fact, I had loved the time spent there. I learnt a lot in Chennai. It was a home away from home. And the hedonistic lifestyle was addictive.

But 'twas time I took up some responsibility. 'Tis time I grew up.

I arrived in Mumbai today. I was greeted by a light drizzle. Had met a person in the same coach as mine, and he suggested that I get down at Kalyan as it would be closer to IITB. He was a Railway Inspector and quite a few people on the platform knew him. It was good that I was honest in telling him I was new to Mumbai. He was kind enough to help me board the local train to Kanjur Marg.

I was kinda lucky to be arriving on a Saturday noon. The local train was more or less empty and I was soon at Kanjur Marg. And since I feared not being able to get down with my three bags in one go (the train halts for less than a minute), I requested another traveller to help.

Kanjur Marg didn't have no coolies. It would be difficult to carry three bags over a bridge in one go. And this chappy who helped me get off the train himself offered to give me a hand. I was already bowled over by the ordinary Mumbaikar's extra-ordinary kindness.

An auto took me to IITB straight. Had to pay Re.1 less than the metered fare. That's how Mumbai functions. Smooth.

Getting into IITB was easy. I still look like a student. And I passed off as one.

Mansukh greeted me at the KReSIT building and soon-after, we were enjoying lunch at Gulmohar. That's when I got the big news.

'We' was among the 53 films shortlisted for screening at the first India International Disability Film Festival 2005. I wanted to start shouting in happiness and I could picture the scene WE (that's my buddies and I) would have created had I been in Chennai. It was my first film. The theme - 'An inclusive society', the focus being on the differently-abled. And they were ready to screen it before a jury of India's biggies - Mani Ratnam, Jaya Bachchan, Nandita Das, Adoor Gopalakrishnan.. to name a few. I didn't realize it was THAT good. I had just let my heart speak thru the silent B&W film.

Later that afternoon, Mansukh, At-it, Patwari and myself headed to meet a real-estate agent for a place to rent in Powai. Nike also came along and was in awe when he saw the place - as much as the rest of us. We finalized the deal soon after. It had not even been 5hrs since I arrived in Mumbai and I already had my own home.

Nike and I headed for Malad after that. I was looking forward to experiencing the lifestyle at my company's Guest House.

I felt pampered.

I was not used to being called 'Sir'. I had not had dinner on a dining table, since I last visited home about 6months ago. I was also not used to having water poured into a tumbler before drinking it.

God has been too nice to me lately. Now what have I done ?