Once upon a night in Mumbai

First of July 2019 began as any ordinary day. It would have ended so too, but for the floods.
I was to leave for Patiala the next day and had some last minute shopping to do.
And of course the film buffs that we both are, we didn't want to miss Ayushmann Khurana and his Article 15.
So off we went to Phoenix Market City in the evening.
And as we came out discussing the movie , we realised it was raining.
One auto rickshaw driver agreed to take us to Kalina after a dozen of them fled away.
We had crossed two signals when suddenly the water levels began to rise. It looked like a  river had engulfed the other side of the road and the water from the other side had begun to overflow into the side we were on.
Gopal and the auto driver pushed the auto for sometime before it broke down in front of a kebab shop.
The shop was at a slightly higher level than the road. One of the guys asked me to step out of the auto and sit in the shop. He immediately set up two chairs for us and made us comfortable.
Suddenly a huge garbage bin was floating in front of the shop. The boys ran to get it back. It was their prized possession. They couldn't let the floods claim it.
Soon the water level began increasing even more. The shopkeeper began winding up his shop. He came up to me and said, 'Madam, go from this side to the tea shop. There is a bench there. You will be safe there.
I moved to the bench all scared and worried whether  we would get home safely.
The rains were lashing. The entire road was now  a powerful river. Cars had stopped moving and more people were getting on to this safe place.
A rat or two also scampered to safety. A man descending into the tea shop from the chawl above was pretty pleased with himself. He told Gopal, 'Sirji, maine aaj dopahar mein hi bol diya tha ki shaam ko paani bharega. Meri bhavishyavaani sach hui!'
Wish he worked with the MET department!
The tea shop also slowly began to flood.
So the tea seller, Raju,  sent us to a truck weighing office.
There were two guys there trying to get all their stuff on top of the cupboards to keep them safe. They offered us two chairs.
Even as I was just settling in , a lady walked in , all in tears. Her daughter came in behind her asking her why she was crying
The poor lady was obviously in panic and yelled at her girl, 'I told you not to come out in this rain. But you won't listen.'
A family of eight , they had parked their car outside and were fervently discussing further course of action. The mother obviously was still perturbed and suddenly screeched ,' Can you guys stop the discussion and pray? We are trapped all thanks to your plans.'
The family chose to ignore her ofcourse and continued with their discussions. They finally decided to move out and go to a relative's home.
A few minutes after they left three men came into the room and they were joking about how each one reached there.
I couldn't do nothing but admire how they stood so strong even in this situation , while I was all down to bits and pieces.
One of them, Majid bhai( yes by now I knew their names too) suddenly got a call. And then he panicked. The building where his house was had caught fire! There had been a short circuit and all his family members has rushed to the terrace as they couldn't run down because of the rising water.
The man screamed in pain. I saw the transformation of a man who was able to laugh at his own pain into someone who was scared at the pain of others. Along with two more people he ran to save his family.
Even as he went out in came the tea seller and asked 'bada danda hain kya?' Apparently a manhole was open and he almost slipped into it. He had saved himself and now had to do something to save others. He pushed in a plastic stool to block the manhole and tied an iron rod on the stool as a warning.
The water level inside the office was steadily rising. I was offered one more chair . The officer, a balding middle aged guy, told me, 'Madam pair upar rakhhke baitiye.Paani badh raha hain.'  He had marked out a spot on the cupboard and was constantly checking the level of the rising waters.
He then began hunting for a slipper. He narrated how he always kept an extra pair because people would steal his from the masjid. But he never wore anyone elses as he felt that then his prayers had no values.
Soon he and Gopal settled down on the existing seats and were narrating stories to each other. The waters were rising. The rains were incessant and relentless. I was tired and soon was lulled  into a dull sleep. I drifted in and out of sleep hearing bits and pieces of different stories. And then someone announced ' Barish Ruk gayi'. I looked at my watch . It was 4 a.m.
I checked my phone . It had two missed calls from my son. I couldn't call back as there was very little charge . Both me and the phone were drained.
The tea shop had opened. Gopal told me there were BEST buses stuck on the road. The staff and the passengers had spent the night in the buses. The water level had started reducing.
The cigarette shop also opened for business. Now people began to walk down to buy cigarettes and tea.
The officer who helped us out , Anwar miyan was glad he found his missing chappal and was now worried about a missing broom !
He had to clean the place, he told me before all the water went away. After a whole nighy of being awake, he was more worried about his office than himself.
A few friends of Majid bhai came back. Majid bhai almost fell into a manhole while running home to save his family. The others pulled him out. When the reached the building , the inmates had figured out a way to reach the terrace of the adjoining building. The family was safe after fighting a night of fire and water.

Gopal and me began walking down the watery street to see if we could get an auto. School children were out on their way to school , unaware that the government had in the middle of the storm updated on Twitter that's educational institutions would be closed.
Finally we got an auto rickshaw. As we moved towards Kalina, it looked like a different world. No water logging. No floods. People out on their morning walks.
Did we just come from a different world altogether?
Well , for me , it was a night I will never forget. For Gopal it was a milder version of 26 July!
Did anyone think if they were Hindus , Muslims or Christians? No! All people thought was about how to keep each other up and floating.
This is the India I believe in and I am glad that though it was a fearful night, it was a reassuring one that the world still knows peace. Atleast this one night in Mumbai was about standing up for each other ! It didn't matter whether you said Allah or Jesus or Ram!
All that mattered was being together and being safe. 

Sanju : What the movie actually showed me

The last few days there have been multiple reviews about the the movie #Sanju. Some raved about it while some criticised it. While I have my own opinions about the movie which is published here , I do think it conveyed a very important message which I will elaborate now.

The major focus of the story was the relationship between the father and the son. The movie attempted to show how the father was a great man and the son was never able to come to the expectations of the father. It  depicts  how they loved each other so much but were unable to communicate that love to each other.  It shows how the father and son finally bridged their differences.

Have realistic expectations from your child: You as an individual are entitled to your opinions and ideologies and would want your progeny to follow it. But first try to understand your child, what you child feels and what is the child's idea of life. So do not impose your ideology on your child.

Keep children involved in all matters of the family  : There is a scene in the movie where the father informs the 19 year old son that his mother has cancer, but he needs to act as if he doesn't know about it. The mother then informs the son that she is going to New York, not for treatment , but to act in a Hollywood movie. She proudly tells the father she can still act very well, though she is retired from movies. The scene hit me with the hypocrisy we follow in families. Why do we make things sound as if children(though he is an adult here)  are incapable of handling the truth?  If children are told the truth they will process it and make better choices in life. Parents go on through life saying ' my children should not suffer' . This is true as long as things go well. But in case of any trouble that either parent goes through , I  think its very important to take the child into confidence. Children will understand the pain you are going through and will know how to empathize with you.In our need to protect them, we mollycoddle them so much they are unable to handle the bitter truths of life.

Keep communication lines open:Talk to your children. Let them know they can afford to make mistakes,but need to learn from them. Making a mistake is not a crime. Not learning anything from it is. Not teaching our children to learn from them is the biggest crime. The movie shows the son reaching out for drugs and sex as a way to combat his depression. Today more and more children are moving into depression. There is a a break down in communication in families. Keep talking to your children. Hear them out. Sunil Chetri in this speech hits the nail when he says listen to your child.

Chide in private : The father does the reverse. The son is chided by his father for not lip syncing the song as he wanted him to do. He scolds him in front of the whole unit. The son who looks up to the father for his approval, never gets it. His father makes his disappointment very obvious leading me to think, did he at anytime set his expectations with his child?  Did they have similar expectations and did the son know what the father wanted or was he just following a mirage?

Be involved in the childhood of your child.  While the father does give the son motivational talks and songs that help him choose the right path, I felt they came bit too late in the life of the son. Parents need to be involved with their children. They need to be available for their children emotionally , physically and mentally during the growing years of the child. Celebrate your child. His successes and failures are as much a part of your life as they are of his. Do not blend your pride with his success and your shame with his failure. Take it as a walk down the path of life. Just be there for them unconditionally. Children are not in the lives of parents to make them proud or shame them .They are here to lead their lives. Be with them in their childhood and guide them at the right time, so that as an adult they are capable of making the right choices.

Though I am sure the director never had the above ideas in his head while making the movie, these messages did stand out for me. The movie is definitely a lesson in bad parenting . One can learn what not to do as a parent from this movie.  Thank you team Sanju for this.

But the math paper did!

The last few days have been days of results in our country.
ICSE and CBSE results are out. Local state boards are declaring the results.
Schools , coaching classes and parents are in three modes: gloating over the toppers, thanking the stars for those who cleared and not too bothered about the middle lot.

As a parent I was also on tenter hooks since morning. Not because the results were due in sometime, but because I knew my boy was tensed.
He had spent the good part of the year participating in activities in college and spent the last month or so preparing for the exams.
I knew he found math tough , dillydallied to the end and finally took it head on.
He was worried he would have to repeat his paper.
I was worried it would mean so much extra work for something he didn't enjoy.

He is interning at a start-up and enjoying his job. His skills in computing and social media landed him the internship. He does a lot of math on his job. That doesn't scare him. But the math paper did!

He is a musician by heart. He plays the drums,the piano and the guitar. He composes tunes and gets the beat of any song. The math of the rythm doesn't scare him. But the math paper did!

He took me on a drive on the scooter last weekend and explained  how if you passed  one green signal and maintained your speed you could pass through all the green signals on that road. The math of the signals doesnt scare him. But the math paper did!

When the results were out, he burst into tears. Those were tears of joy of having cleared the math paper. They were also tears of relief that told him he needn't look at those dreaded books again.

As a parent and an educator I know the math paper has not enriched my son's life as the numerous events he attended during his grade 12. He learnt so much more there even as he was criticised by all for whiling away his time. He made new friends,negotiated relationships , took up challenges, participated in competitions ,spent time in team building activities.My boy, I was sure wouldn't be stopped by a math paper. But somewhere he wasn't sure of that. The math paper scared him!

Even as my boy and his friends party to celebrate their success in this examination, they know they are in for a few more years of such torture. But they will have gotten older and stronger and more resilient to tackle it by then and will do so without breaking down.

Bottoms up !

“One cannot think well, love well, and sleep well, if one has not dined well.”
― Virginia Woolf, A Room of One's Own
Woolf has very aptly condensed the importance of food in this one sentence. Nothing in life happens the right way if food is neglected. Food has a very omnipotent role to play in our lives. And it is, at the same time, very omnipresent in the language we speak.
Language is being constantly modified and beautified by food. Food garnishes the language that one uses with so much love and spice that one can only crave for more.
Food nourishes our thoughts. While worries go down better with soup, too many cooks can spoil the broth. Though we thought about of everything from soup to nuts, we never realised that we had our fingers in too many pies. Did we chew off more than we could eat? We treaded on eggshells during the project so that we would not have egg on our faces at the end of it. We wanted to keep our cake and have it too.
Food nourishes the heart too.  So while your loved one can be as sweet as honey, your home can be as warm as toast even on a rainy day. The ambience may just make you go nutty as a fruit cake or simply spend the rest of the day as couch potatoes! Either way you would not cry over spilt milk.
Food nourishes the body. That of course is its main job. And language embellishes this role too. So you have a taste for the fine arts while the icing on the cake is the award you got for your passion in music .And oh yes, in your salad days you stewed upon quite a few things though finally you did learn which side of the bread is buttered. And on your way you have also figured out that one man’s meat is another poison while time and again you may have jumped from the fire into the frying pan while trying to save your bacon.

So while you sink your teeth into this, let’s acknowledge that variety is the spice of life. Every endeavour will have its teething troubles, at times may make you feel as if it is a pie in the sky but the truth remains that there is nothing such as a free lunch. You may have to polish the apple to whet your appetite to achieve success.

STRAND BOOK STALL AND THE PPRS

The news papers are buzzing with how the iconic book stall in Mumbai 'Strand Book stall' is shutting down. In the face of severe competition this little book store hasn't been able to keep pace and is shutting down.
( Strand Book Stall )

Strand Book Stall has been a huge part of my life. My father, a self confessed bibliophile was a regular visitor to the shop. Our breakfast table and dinner table stories for years revolved around the eminent people he met at the book store, his interactions with the owner Padmashree T.N.Shanbaug and the ever ready to help manager- Shenvi uncle. Dad was so well connected to all the people at Strand that one had to only inform the guys at the shop that they were sent there by PPR, one would get a further discount on any book purchased.

It is difficult to visualise my dad without a Strand Bag. Strand would willingly hand him over a dozen of their bags , which he would pick up at regular intervals. God forbid if he used any other bag. The bags were always at home( and are there even today) Dad was a mobile advertisement for them. I vividly remember when he had to withdraw money for my wedding, he safely carried cash worth a  lakh in a Strand Bag all the way from Colaba to  Vile Parle. Even as we were aghast, may dad coolly said, who will imagine that this bag has money.People will only think it has some books.
For years it was difficult to meet my dad on Monday mornings. It was his weekly trip to Strand.This ritual continued a good fifteen years after his retirement till my mother decided that he was too old to travel alone!

On his journeys to the book stall, my children have accompanied him , during their vacations. It was almost a mini summer camp  with me dropping them off on a Sunday evening at  my parents house , so that they could go to Strand Book Stall on a Monday morning. While my daughter enjoyed the travel ( which included a train, a bus and a cab and the most coveted icecream!) , my son loved to pick up the books. Both have very fond memories of the place.

The relationship Dad shared with the shop was of joy and pride which he shared with many of us. Though I didn't go regularly to the shop, I have fond memories of the few visits that my sister and I did to the shop during our annual trips from Trivandrum. We used to spend hours at the shop sifting though books, reading some and finally picking up two or three for the vacations.

Later on , as a teacher, when I was in-charge of setting up the library for a school I worked in, Shenvi uncle and Strand helped me set it up in a jiffy.And to the management's delight they offered huge discounts.

Strand Book Stall has been a part of my life for the last four decades. directly and indirectly.

The old will give way to the new and Strand today symbolises just that. It will be alive in the memories of  thousands of people whose life it has touched in small and big ways.
It will , forever hold a cherished place in the hearts of the PPR family for sure.

No, I will not take a chill pill.

Recently I saw a video of Andy Murray where he corrects a journalist who totally ignores the female tennis players of USA.  When the journalist says that Sam Querrey is the first American player to reach a Grand Slam semi final since 2009, Andy made it a point to inform him that Sam was a male player, implying that there have been women American players who have won the titles earlier.  As the journalist laughed and commented yes of course I could hear an undertone which said do females even count? (http://indianexpress.com/article/sports/tennis/first-male-player-andy-murray-takes-on-casual-sexism-in-press-conference-watch-video-4748035/)

The constant undermining of women on social media rattles me.
When I get forwards about wives being the bane of husbands lives and Botox Queens being better than naturally aging ones I get angry.
When there are jokes on how classmates looked like chillies when in college and look like capsicums now I fume!  
And what irritates me more is that when I react to such instances I am told by my male friends that I need to chill and learn how to take a joke.
I can take a joke and of course crack so many of them on myself.  But when the so called jokes reinforce stereotypes of negative imaging of women I cannot. 
If the woman who is a wife is the most painful thing in a husband’s life, do not get married. Do not disregard a person who is sharing her life with you. Living with you is not an easy task. Many of the wives never even bargained into this deal!  When you forward jokes on wives, do you realize you are teaching your sons that it's OK to laugh at your wives and deride her role in your life.  That's what she deserves.
When a female college mate of the same age looks older than a male one isn't it obvious she has gone through a lot in life which may include giving birth to babies?
If she doesn't care to maintain her body like a film star that's because she doesn't have the luxury or the necessity to do so. If she hasn't cared for herself may be she cared for others. 
But what message do you pass on to your son? That a woman is valued only when she looks good.  

And when you tell the women to relax and take a joke do you realize you  are teaching your  sons it's OK to  ignore the presence of real women in their lives. It's OK to joke on them and deride their roles. It's OK to call a woman someone's property.  It's OK to mention a woman only in relation to a man!  It's OK to negate her individuality and her existence! You are also passing a strong message to your daughters that tomorrow this is the treatment they will get form men in their lives and they need to take it with a chill pill too!

And No, I will not take a chill pill. 

Campus Cheers

Bichde they hum zindagi mein kuch sapne aakhon me leke

Kuch ke sach hue, kuch ke badal gaye,

Kuch ne naye sapne saja liye, kuch ne purano ke dafna diye.

Kuch sapane tutke bikhar gaye,

Kuch shor macha gaye

Bichde then hum zindagi mein kuch sapne aakhon me leke

Kuch sapne badal gaye, kuch hum badal gaye!

When a motley group of 40- something traverse distances to relive the life that went past two decades ago, the result is sheer magic.

We all had left each other twenty years ago in May 1995. Each had travelled on in life. Further degrees, jobs, marriages, kids and worldly matters had hauled us to different parts of the world. 

Today we packed our bags and travelled back to meet those who had vanished two decades from our radar.

Today we travelled back to renew those memories that were tucked away in corners of our minds.

Today we travelled back to pause life for three days.

Anila, Neena, Anita, Reds, Shiva, Surendra, Kadhi and me formed the first gang.

On the train journey to Mysore, the instant chatter that began at 11.00 am and paused only when we alighted from the train. In two cars we headed to Silent Shores Resort and Spa. 

We checked into four mini bungalows.  This was just perfect. The open space outside the two rows of bungalows was so right for the gossip session post dinner.

 KRS was cancelled in favour of the college campus. No one could stop us from visiting the campus immediately.

And as we entered the campus with a flutter in our heart, we realised that the campus had changed. The English department building had more gates. There were more walls. The lobby had a huge roll of honour of all principals. We invited ourselves into the principal’s office. Dr Rao entertained us in the conference room and a good discussion ensued for the next half an hour.

We went to our classrooms; sat like students, behaved like juniors, then like seniors and spoke loudly of memories of each room. Each heart ruminated on so many other unspoken ones.

From there we walked into the canteen crossing the library. Sadly the canteen was closed. Proceeding to Ganga hostel we found that closed for renovation too. 

The Campus seemed to be speaking loud and clear: Change is inevitable. Do not look for what you left. Face what you see now. Life moves on.

With these thoughts we moved on to Ms.Prema Raghavan’s home. A beautiful couple in a perfect home, Mr Raghavan and Prema ma’am entertained us patiently for almost an hour. It was a privilege to meet one of the most influential person in our lives.

From there we went to meet N.S.Raghunath Sir, one teacher who helped us become the teachers we are  today. In a world that is as intellectual as he is, NSR ( as he was called in college) was strong as ever with the fire in his belly against corruption and mediocrity in academic life.

Contentedly, we went back to the resort. Post dinner, we brought the sofas out and all of us settled in the open air. Gossiping and chatting about how life has taken us, how we all are in good spaces and how we feel blessed about the chance life gave us to meet!

The next morning we were joined by Deepa Nair, Naveen and Ramkumar. Once again we headed to the campus. The call of the Campus was just too intoxicating!

We headed to that corner of the ground where we were subjected to the first few instances of ragging. The place where we were ragged by our seniors was now cemented. As we stood there taking selfie we met a present day student whom we promptly ragged. Madhu was sporting enough to humour us and even accompanied us as a photographer. On campus we met Harini, who now teaches at DMS. And did the teacher bunk class to sneak in some tea and biscuits at Kalpavalli! Once again all settled down to chatting. Every plan that we made was redone over and over again and finally we realised there is no time to do much but head to the city and have lunch. So as we dropped Harini and left the campus, we heaved a sigh of contentment.

So we manoeuvred our way to RRR, a favourite haunt during the heavenly days of college. Ramkumar now bid goodbye to us and we herded ourselves back to the resort.

We went back to the resort only to welcome Sona and  Gangamma who joined us for dinner. As we bid goodbye to Gangamma and her family, we realised that the group kept growing and diminishing as the two days progressed.  People joined us, spent time and went away. We went on like a river embracing all who came along. We watched with pain and tears when people said bye. We rejoiced with those who remained.

Girls can spend a whole night gossiping and girls will be girls, irrespective of their age! We, girls spent the night, till FIVE a.m chatting and gossiping. We gossiped about what we knew, gossiped about what we didn’t, gossiped about each one in class, in college and gossiped about ourselves. We disclosed long hidden stories, heard unheard stories, and shared concerns about classmates, husbands and children. We shared fears and worries, cheered our victories and triumphs and refused adamantly to sleep! We savoured every minute of the journey. We hung on to every moment so that the memories last a life time.

When we boarded the bus to Bangalore, we hoped that this time round life doesn't make us wait another twenty years. 

The dust has settled. The hangover is gone. The humdrum of routine has set in. The memories are ever alive for me to cherish and hold close to my heart.