The Idea-smithy

Jeffrey Archer on Landmark tour!

..proclaims a hoarding on Andheri Link Road a few feet before Infiniti Mall which houses the Landmark store. The lower two floors look fairly sane, I think to myself as far as weekdays go. Even the second floor which looms into sight as the escalator rides up looks remarkably normal. Then I notice the mountain of bags lying at the entrance. And I’m stopped by the polite but firm female guard who shakes her head almost sorrowfully and tells me that I cannot carry my battered copy of As the Crow Flies in.

I push my way past the jewelery counter, the New Releases rack and past the music section. Voila!! What’s a celebrity without the crowd? Archer has succeeded in drawing the mob to the store on a weekday. It’s so crowded that people are stepping on each other’s toes even among the magazines racks that signal the start of that heaven that is Landmark’s book section.

I slither through the crowd in a manner perfected by years of Mumbai train travel and end up right at the back, smushed up against Movies while Jeffrey Archer regales a crowd from a stage in what is otherwise the aisle between Maps and Language.

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I’m not usually inclined to writing movie reviews, given I tried it on one of my other blogs and failed miserably to write anything interesting. But I just had to put my thoughts down on this just to remember the funny idea if not the movie.

Seen The Forbidden Kingdom as yet? Or have Iron Man, Khuda ke Liye and Race overwhelmed the once raging appetite for Kung-fu flicks. Speaking of which, where have all the Kung-fu lovers gone? Times were when Star Movies ran a series called Friday Fury telecasting the grand works of Bruce Lee and Jackie Chan. Now that’s been reduced to a once-in-a-couple-of-years Chan release or (horror of horrors) dubbed versions on Filmy.

Cadet Larvell Jones of Police Academy was an expert at imitating all sorts of noises and one of the series had him do a routine of the typical Hollywood-dubbed Chopsuey flick, delivering chop-chops and complete with un-lip-synced psuedo-Eastern wisdom like,

The snake does not bend its neck. The mongoose will still catch it!

(….or something like that)
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The thing that makes a city interesting is the fact that there could be a surprise waiting for you at any corner. I often think I’m jaded with the proverbial ‘I’ve seen it all’ attitude to things that are supposed to catch my interest. And then I’m proven wrong.

Here’s what I spotted on a late evening in the local train. Orange transparent plastic sandals fastened on with a fat ribbon in a matching hue. How could I not stop and stare?!

Anjani, the owner of those tangy toes (I love aliterations!) works in merchandising a fashion retail business. She was also gracious enough to let me take a photograph for this blog. She isn’t a Mumbaiker (still bothered by the weather and the crowd) but she isn’t new to the city either. But in my mind she represents the colourful panorama of this city, shifting smoothly between outsider, newcomer and seasoned local.

Ooh, the sheer audacity of the design, the spunkiness of the colour..it totally made my otherwise dreary day! Notice the contrast between the shoe and the surroundings - a typical dark-and-dingy platform on a Mumbai railway station.

In fact, now I think I’ll start a section where I report interesting fashion ’spottings’ in the city. (See an earlier sighting here!)Thank you, Anjani, for inspiration and for the colour!

When I was a kid, I remember a huge tin drum standing right next to our kitchen sink. It was taller than I was and was used to store water. Water, precious water, worth everything in summer.

Do I exaggerate? I was around 5 or 6 then. Old enough to feel the shortage, too young to do anything about it since I couldn’t even lift a full bucket by myself. Moreover a thick pall of gloom lay over the household. Mum, harried at the thought of having to fit cooking, cleaning, drinking water and the household’s other needs within a limited water budget. Dad, brooding over the questions of plumbing, drainage, borewell fittings and tankers, not to mention having to rush to work.

Everyone woke up early to catch the running water before it ran out. Vessels were scrimped on to avoid washing. Clothes were doled out as per strict hygiene requirments to save on laundry water. I also remember tempers flying high and getting scolded for a lot of things that never otherwise bothered the adults. Water-shortage time was always a period of suffocating, dark, depressing gloom.

What a sweet, unparalleled relief it was, the day the water shortage ceased and we were back to having 24-hour water supply! In the years to come, the water supply and plumbing systems evolved. (more…)

This was written a long time back. I’m recycling it since I don’t think any of the people who read my blog now knew me then. And because I like this piece.

29 October 2004

8 a.m. on a weekday morning. Mumbai’s crankiest best. Sweepers shuffling dust into the air with a vengeance, cars spelling out “Eat my dust” in their fumes, people shuffling to work. I stood at the bus-stop frowning into thin air, waiting for a bus that was always late on days of important appointments.

A little boy and his grandmother walked past me. The boy in a pair of faded trousers and shirt hanging out in a state of shabbiness only little boys can perfect. The grandmother was little, white-haired, bespectabled and slightly bent in that endearing ‘grandmommy’ way. Both were holding hands tightly. For a moment I wondered, who was escorting who?

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Unless I’m greatly mistaken, these are the pipes that one uses to smoke ganja? I remember seeing these in little shops on my way home from school as well, and wondering what they were. Back then, I figured they were some special attachment to be used on taps. My curiosity continues unabated and I’m still wondering whether these aren’t illegal. If I’m right, they are…sort of.

I could be wrong, however. Does anybody know what these things are used for? I didn’t have the nerve to walk up to the shopkeeper and ask him. He didn’t seem perturbed by my taking photographs though.

I remain a Mumbai train loyalist. Not only is the Mumbai Metropolitan Railway, the fastest way to get from Point A to Point B in Mumbai, it also gives you a slice of what I think of as ‘the real Mumbai life’. Frantic students cramming in seat-huddles tell you that the board examinations are around the corner. A bling-ey group chatters away about the wedding they’re off to in the matrimony season. Office-goers - peons, sales executives, doctors, journalists run shoulders (okay, bodies) in the nau-dabbon-ki-jalad-lowkulll.

And speaking of dabbas, how about the other dabbas? The ones carrying piping hot nourishment, lovingly made by mothers and wives and cooks across the city and delivered Just In Time for lunch to their hungry patrons? To the uninitiated, the dabbawallas are a network of deliverymen who carry lunchboxes from homes to offices and back using a never-fail above-world-class system of colour coding. An Ivy League US b-school used them as a case study and the concept has picked up much visibility since then.
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Sunday afternoon screening of Choti si baat. Associations aplenty.

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Move over politicos, stock markets and temperatures…the queen of the media makes news again!

After another day spent panicking over the state of ‘the common man’ following the antics of our local politico-goons, Mumbai really must be back to normal if the news is any indication. Let’s check out what India TV thinks is big news today.

Rakhi Sawant slaps her boyfriend!!!

This comes on the heels of the very well-covered incident where Rakhi Sawant threw her boyfriend Abhishek Awasti out of their house and cried “BREAK-UP!”. I didn’t catch that on TV since everyone else was hogging the box for such mundane things as rioting, violence on the streets and politicians getting arrested. Fikar not, Rakhi gives me my time’s worth with today’s lunch news though.

Yesterday someone nudged me and told me that my favorite melodrama queen had broken up. I hastened to get in touch with the queen of desi bloggydom who reassured me that it was just a tiff and things should soon tide over. True to her word, Rakhi gives us some more entertainment (oops…news) today, which leads me to the conclusions that all queens have a soul connection with each other.

(Okay, I couldn’t find any good photographs of the event on the internet, so these are my own pathetic attempts. Used my camera-phone to shoot the TV so apologies in advance for the appalling photography…)

So we watch as the errant boyfriend (what exactly did he do to get her to scream?) goes down on bended knee and eats humble pie several times over. We ooh as he gets his mug punched over the obscenely huge bouquet of red roses….atta, girl Rakhi!!!

 Then he’s made to say “I love you” and promise never ever ever to hurt her again in English, Marathi (aayeechi shapath!) and Hindi. Reporters fall over each other and there’s much giggling, shoving, nudging and sniffling (?) to be heard while we’re told what’s big news on national TV…ooops India TV.

The heart almost aches for the boy. But that’s the price of being Mr.DramaQueen. Truly,

Is thapad ki goonj usse desh ke kone kone tak sunaai di!!