The City With The Pulse- Mumbai

This is what I’m missing I thought. It was eight thirty in the evening and I was sitting on the parapet at Marine Drive. The Queen’s Necklace as vibrant and colorful as ever. I watched a boy, probably sixteen or seventeen years of age taking a dog and a pup for a walk. People jogged by listening to music.

Not only did I not have a place like this to walk around in my town, there was no way I could do it alone, especially at night. During different situations friends and I had been forced to use autos instead of walking, thanks to hooligans on the street. Here, you scream, people beat up the guy near you and then ask what is wrong.

True, Mumbai’s a big city, too big for me, a small town girl at heart. But then you have these wonderful opportunities!
 You have restaurants by the sea where you have a karaoke night with DJs. Bookstores with wonderful collections and cozy armchairs tucked away in corners to escape reality, and cafés with scrumptious food. Believe me serious reading makes one hungry.
 

The true essence of Mumbai is, I guess, the way all opposites seem to live together happily. You have your Bollywood superstars, and you have the biggest slum in all of Asia, Dharavi in the same city. You have people selling toys and porno movies on the same street. Buildings that look Tudor and Victorian house banks like HSBC and BSNL.

Mumbai cannot be described in one article. In the coming days there’ll be more I assure you. So keep an eye on this page.

The Crazy Class Trip (3)

Warning: 24 hours on a mini bus strictly not recommended, especially for people with sensitive backsides.

Imagine this. 24 people, sitting close to midnight on a nearly deserted station. Oh yes, and to top it all one of our classmates wanted to have a dance off with a drunk Michael Jackson wannabe.

The teachers were calling up senior teachers, trying to figure out what to do. One thing was clear. We were not supposed to spend the night in Bangalore. We did try telling the teachers that we could take a Volvo and then later pay. But no. They wanted to do it their way.

We got into our tour bus and started off for some place. I don’t really know the name. The girls and boys were separated and put in two mini buses. Oh did I mention one of the guys had chicken pox?
 

So at 1.04 am, I was sitting on a mini bus, trying to sleep, which was a bit difficult due to three reasons. Firstly I’m a long legged person, and there was no leg space at all. Second, the window on the other side was completely open, and it was freezing cold. Third and most annoyingly, the driver was playing Himesh Reshamia songs and refused to play any others. (For those of you who don’t know, Mr. Reshamia sings through his nose, and it can be quite irritating.) Two guys were on our bus, and one refused to sleep saying that most accidents in the state of Karnataka occurred because the driver fell asleep.

In the morning, my phone was the only one with charge so it was used to call up the parents. We finally stopped at a petrol pump to freshen up. My friend and I made a beeline for a shop asking for a plug point to charge our phones. I must say I fell in love with my phone all over again because in fifteen minutes it had four bars. We stopped to breakfast at a small roadside joint. Lunch was at four in the afternoon. And I finally made it back home by around 1.30 am.

Here’s the best bit. A week later I got chicken pox, and so did all others in the class who hadn’t gotten it before! Moral of the story? Never ever let your teachers plan your class trips!!

A tryst with Sharman Joshi

A few weeks ago, while taking a walk around Fort area, Mumbai, I noticed a crowd gathered next to Jahangir Art Gallery. Curious, I went and became a part of it. There were whispered conversations from which one could decipher that it was a film shooting, and the star was Sharman Joshi. He came out of his van, and was having a chat with a man before they started shooting. I, being the quintessential shutter-bug immediately took a snap. Unfortunately it came out blurred so I deleted it. A man saw this and came and requested quite politely that I delete the snap saying it’s not allowed.

Telling him that I had already deleted it wasn’t enough. He wanted to see for himself. I really wanted to ask him if he’d like to go through all the 144 snaps I’d taken of Mumbai, that very day.

Ok so maybe snaps like these are taken and released when they aren’t supposed to. But do you think that it’s fair to do so when it’s a public place? For all he knew I could have been taking a picture of the cobbled street, or of the lights.

The streets belong to everyone. Or so they say.

 Apparently they don’t.

If you have a different point of view which you wish to express, please post a comment or write to me at ritealot@gmail.com. You never know, you could be the inspiration for my next article. :)

The X-Files (1)

Jasper woke up groggily. He slowly opened his eyes, adjusting to the dimness of the room. Soon he could make out shapes. To his horror he saw a man crouching next to him. He had an injection in one hand and a bottle in the other. “No, no” gasped Jasper but the needle had already pierced him. As he drifted back to unconsiousness  Jasper saw two more men appear. He wondered what kind of trouble he’d gotten himself into…

                                                                 Chapter 1

Jasper opened his eyes once again and tried to make out where he was. A sickly smell reached him and as he looked down he could see a dark red colour, very prominent against the light blue of his shirt. Not that it looked light blue anymore. It was dirty all over. He was near the sea, he could see the sun setting in the waves. If he hadn’t been in pain and danger he’d have stopped and admired the view for a very long time. His hands were tied very tightly as were his legs. He desperately looked around for anything with which he could cut himself free. He started wiggling around and accidently knocked over a jug. He heard sucffling of shoes outside the door, and stilled instantly, not daring to breathe. He knew if they found out that he was consious, they’d drug him again. But the door didn’t open, and the footsteps went away. Just then a glint caught his eye. There was a sharp jagged piece of glass which had been under the jug. Jasper thanked  his lucky stars and started moving towards the piece of glass. The minutes passed like years. Fortunately for him, his hands were tied in front of him, not behind. His fingers were numb, and dropped the glass atleast thrice befor getting a firm grip on it. He started methodically sawing through the ropes. It took ages, and Jasper cut himself many times. At last the ropes frayed and he used the last of his strength  to free his hands. He scowled as he  started rubbing his hands.Soon he could feel blood circulating. He then started working on his legs. Soon he was able to stand up, not steadily but he was still thought but he still thought that as an achievement. He looked down to his chest, and the amount of blood made him sick. He unbuttoned his shirt to find an ugly gash running down, narrowly missing his heart. He cursed as he buttoned up his shirt again. He limped to the window, finding out that the goons had done something to his right knee too.  He  tried the windows but they wouldn’t budge. Frustated he hit the frame and the window shuddred! He took a closed look at the screws that held the frame. They were weak, and with a little strength, could be pulled apart. As Jasper had no energy left in him at the moment, he decided to get some rest and later escape, before the sun rose.

The Crazy Class Trip (2)

After spending two days and a night in Mysore, we headed back to Bangalore to shop some more.  Stopping at a stadium opposite the entrance to Commercial Street, we were told to get back by 7 pm. That gave us around 3 hours to shop. We spilt up into many groups and went different ways. We all got back to the bus on time and started off for Pizza Hut, to take pizzas so we could eat on the train. After getting the pizza, we started off for the station.

One of the teachers just happened to take a look at the ticket. It was 8.50 pm…and our train was leaving at 9 pm!!! Apparently out guide had though 21.00  meant 11 o’clock. A mad rush for the station took place. Many of us, seasoned travellers tried calling the station. And then we suggested instead of Yeshvantpur, why not go to Bangalore Junction, where the train’ll wait for more time. But no, the teachers were stubborn, and by the time we reached the platform, our train was gone.

Now what would happen normally in a situation like this? Teachers would take charge and calm parents, guardians and students down right? But then my school is not normal. They started weeping!! And our sir disappeared somewhere! I must say that is one time my class was at it’s best. Dividing wordlessly into groups, some started calming the teachers down, two of us contacted friends in Bangalore to ask for tickets, and while I did that I also had the honour of calming down a classmate and calling up his grandfather.

We sat at the station till 11 ‘o’clock, waiting for the teachers to come to a decision. It was 15 degrees C. Two girls didn’t have jackets, and the extra cardigans were greatly appreciated. Phones were switched off to conserve the battery.