Well, I haven't blogged in AGES. A while back, when I actually started blogging, creative writing yada yada yada... there was something that would drive me to write every second day or so. I would look around while I travel, looking out for things out of the ordinary, things that interest me, things that I can draw inspiration from. My mind was always at work, imagining up fantasy stories in the shower, of werewolves, of vampires, of might and of magic, of despair and of love, everything that I saw could and would be converted into a daydream sequence (yea yea.. sounds lame.. sue me.. Mads, don't answer that one!)

Again, I love to sketch. I keep sketching my aforementioned dream sequences, trying to bring them to life. Sometimes an elf, sometimes a couple holding hands and walking under a lone street lamp set in the backdrop of a moonlit starry night. They would come easily. They say, when you love someone or something, it comes easily to you. It's easy. It becomes easy.

Well, of late my inspiration to write and also to sketch has somehow vanished into thin air. Easy it still is, but not effortless. The urge is gone. The fire's dead so to speak. Ah! However you may put it, the fact remains. I don't feel like writing anymore. At least not for the past month or so. Earlier it used to be as if someone opens a tap and lets the words flow. I never used to think, they just came out as I visualised them in my head. I want that back.

Where the hell did it go, and more important, WHY?
I fail to understand.

Is it that I'm bummed out?
Is it that suddenly I'm too lazy to do even what I love?
Is it that my day is so full that I barely have time left for myself? Even half an hour a day?
Why? Why is it so if it is?

Some call it creative block, writer's block, mental fatigue.
Utter those words to someone and,
Take a break! Chill for sometime! Don't work so hard!

Advice advice advice! Come on people!

Haven't you ever truly wanted to do some things and found that there's just so much time to do them, and everything's fighting for that more of your time, so that at the end of the day, you're left exhausted and wishing you could shut your eyes and leave reality behind for that much longer?
And people wonder why I sleep so much!

Maybe it really is fatigue. I'm doing too many things together, but some of them are commitments I made to myself, and I wish to stick to them.

MBA preps, then office, then gym, NID preps....my day's actually full! Over and above that, bloody Mumbai traffic's a bitch. Traffic jams that make a 20 minute drive home an hour and half long. Makes life that much shorter, with exhaust pipes coughing up unfiltered gases at insanely long traffic signals. WHY can't people get it in their heads to switch off their vehicle at signals of more than 30 seconds? Bloody idiots! And the age-old scrapyard salvaged autorickshaws that form the lifeline of suburbanites. Noise pollution, air pollution and life threateners. Bah!!

GOD! I can go on and on! I'm totally frustrated.
Maybe this is why I started writing in the first place. To reason out my thoughts.
Hmm...good self introspection.

*pats self on back*

Anyway, super-long rant, lotsa random thoughts here, but feeling good. As I say, dil halka ho gaya. Should be out of this slump pretty soon. Planning for a long break from work as it is.

Thanks guys, for bearing with me! I'm outta here! :) \m/

P.S. Will leave you with this thought:

When your dreams are lost and blown away
and you need someone to make your day
I'll be your inspiration

If there comes a time your hope is gone
and you need some help to carry on
I'll be your inspiration

I'll be your inspiration

'Cause when you look into my eyes You can see there's no disguise
Don't be afraid To need someone You don't have to be alone

Don't be afraid To need someone You don't have to be alone

- Ian Van Dahl

Here's something I got as an E-mail. Thought I'd share it out here.

Enjoy! :)

Awesome Bombay!

Bombay has no bombs and is a harbour not a bay.
Churchgate has neither a church nor a gate. It is a railway station.
There is no darkness in Andheri.
Lalbaug is neither red nor a garden.
No king ever stayed at Kings Circle .
Nor did Queen Victoria stay at Victoria Terminus.
Nor is there any princess at Princess Street .
Lower Parel is at the same level as Parel
There are no marines or sailors at Marine Lines.
The Mahalaxmi temple is near Haji Ali not at Mahalaxmi.
There are no pigs traded at Dukkar bazaar.
Teen batti is a junction of 3 roads, not three lamps.
Trams used to terminate at Kings circle not DadarTram Terminus (Dadar T.T.).
Breach Candy is not a sweetmeat market, but there is a Hospital.
Safed Pool has the dirtiest and blackest water.
You cannot buy coal at Kolsa street.
There are no Iron smiths at Lohar chawl.
There are no pot makers at Kumbhar wada.
Lokhandwala complex is not an Iron and steel market.
Null bazaar does not sell taps.
You will not find ladyfingers at Bhindi Bazaar.
Kalachowki does not have a black Police station.
Hanging Gardens are not suspended.
Mirchi Gully does not sell chillies.
Figs do not grow in Anjir Wadi.
Sitafals do not grow in Sitafal Wadi,
Jackfruits do not grow at Fanaswadi.
But it is true that you may get fleeced at Chor Bazaar!

AMCHI MUMBAI

A City where everything is possible, especially the impossible.


Where telephone bills make a person ill,
Where a person cannot sleep without a pill.

Where carbon-dioxide is more than oxygen,
Where the road is considered to be an open dustbin,

Where college canteens are full and classes empty,
Where Adam teasing is also making an entry,

Where a cycle reaches faster than a car,
Where everyone thinks himself to be a star,

Where sky scrapers overlook the slum,
Where houses collapse as the monsoons come,

Where people first act and then think,
Where there is more water in the pen than ink,

Where the roads see-saw in monsoon,
Where the beggars become rich soon,

Where the roads are levelled when the minister arrives,

Where college admission means hard cash,
Where cement is frequently mixed with ash.

THINGS TO PROVE YOU'RE A BOMBAYITE

1. You say 'town ' and expect everyone to know that this means south of Churchgate.

2 You speak in a dialect of Hindi called 'Bambaiya Hindi',
which only Bombayites can understand.

3. Your door has more than three locks.

4. Rs 500 worth of groceries fit in one paper bag.

5. Train timings ( 9.27 , 10.49 etc) are really important events of life.

6. You spend more time each month traveling than you spend at home.

7. You call an 8' x 10' clustered room a Hall.

8.. You're paying Rs 10,000 for a 1 room flat, the size
of walk-in closet and you think it's a 'steal.'

9. You have the following sets of friend: school friends, college friends, neighborhood friends,
office friends and yes, train friends, a species unique only in Bombay. (REALLY TRUE)

10.. Cabbies and bus conductors think you are from Mars
if you call the roads by their Indian name,
they are more familiar with Warden Road, Peddar Road, Altamount Road .

11. Stock market quotes are the only other thing besides cricket which you follow passionately.

12. The first thing that you read in the Times of India is the ' Bombay Times' supplement.

13. You take fashion seriously.
You're suspicious of strangers who are actually nice to you.

14. Hookers, beggars and the homeless are invisible.

15. You compare Bombay to New York 's Manhattan instead of any other cities of India.

16. The most frequently used part of your car is the horn.

17. You insist on calling CST as VT, and Sahar and
Santacruz airports instead of Chatrapati Shivaji International Airport.

18. You consider eye contact an act of overt aggression.

19. Your idea of personal space is no one actually standing on your toes.

20.. Being truly alone makes you nervous.

21. You love wading through knee deep mucky water in the monsoons, and actually call it ''romantic'.

22. Only in Bombay , you would get Chinese Dosa and Jain Chicken.

Salaam Bombay......

A little bit of excitement in my life :)

Sometime back I wrote a post about how crowded the trains in Mumbai are and how funny Train-ing can be. Well, here's something totally unexpected that happened yesterday, something which most of us think cannot happen to us...well, it was fun though... so read on!

Coming home from work is usually quite boring, standing in the overheated, overcrowded compartment of the second class local. And heaven help you if you're travelling at peak hours. After all, in those forty long minutes, you're drenched in the sweat and perspiration, most of which may not be your own!(yuck!)
So, for that and that reason alone, I'm usually at the door, hanging from the grill and enjoying the cool evening air. (yea, yea, now go all responsible mommy and scold me for being reckless. See if I care :P )
Ah, so where was I? Oh yeah, the door. Well, there I was, right at the front, with a freakishly tall half-mawali guy behind me trying all sorts of acrobatics at the door, and two more office-goers behind him. With the sun just setting, the air was cool and it was a pleasant ride; until the train pulled into GTB Nagar station. People alighted the train, more boarded, the usual routine. The train had just started pulling away from the platform when a man came rushing through all of us, almost pushing us off the slowly moving train, jumped off the train and started running. At the same instant, we heard a loud shout from within.

"STOP HIM! THIEF! HE'S STOLEN MY WALLET!"

Now, in such a crowded train, there's no time or space to pull the chain. Also, the train was slowly picking up speed. The pickpocket was getting away. With my mind racing through all these thoughts, I jumped off the running train. The same instant, I saw the other three guys at the door jump off too. And we raced. We raced after the thief who was already gaining so much distance by now. Everything happened so fast, I could barely register them. The only thing I knew was the thief was running away and we had to catch up.

Shouts rang across the platform, "STOP HIM!", " THIEF", "CATCH HIM". People looked at him. No one moved.

Suddenly, the freakishly tall guy, remember him? He picked up speed, and how! It was as if he was possessed. One second, he was running with us, the next he had caught up to the pickpocket who was at least a hundred feet away! A running tackle and both were down on the ground. We're still running.

Almost there.

The thief gets up. I catch up, punch him, he goes down.

By then the others are onto him as well. And then what ensued was nothing less than what can be called a "public dhulai" The poor pickpocket got thoroughly bashed up. After a few seconds, we really had to stop, more out of humane pity than anything else. By then, the railway cops came up, with their pot bellies and lathis. The man whose pocket was picked had also managed to hop off the train and showed up, hoping to get a few punches in. We handed him his wallet. Confirming that everything was intact, he was all smiles again, even offered us a reward which we refused.(i know i know...damn conscience) The confusion having died down and the thief handed over to the cops(who looked nothing like them, but wtf right?) we stood at the platform, arms folded and wide grins across our faces like the Avengers in all our glory, waiting for the next train, noticing the looks of curiosity, of impressed awe and of confusion. Having exchanged names and small talk, we boarded the train, again at the door, with the wind in our hair and sword at hand, awaiting the next station in case our services are needed again.

After all, for your average hero next door, it's all in a day's work.

Remember that feeling of wonder when you looked at an airplane fly over your head?
Remember spreading your arms and running across the open field of green, trying to chase it?
(I feel the wind in my hair...)

Remember the look of excitement on your face when mum handed you an ice candy?
Remember giving her a tight kiss after the candy and giggling over the orange mark you left behind on her cheek?
(I still feel the tight squeeze of her hug)

Remember walking hand in hand to school with your friends?
Remember holding their hand while being scolded together by the teacher for not doing homework?
(I still thank him for doing mine coz I fell ill)

Remember singing in tune to the National anthem?
Remember singing out of tune to the school hymns?
(...and to the morning prayers and every poem they taught)

Remember sharing tiffin at recess?
Remember showing off your tiffin box full of maggi?
(then crying over it when it fell down)

Remember the towel around your neck and superman in your heart?
Remember being a fireman, a tarzan and a G.I.Joe wrapped in one?
(I was batman too! :)

Remember your first crush on tv or from school?
Remember your parents going "awww..." and your friends going "hawww..."
(I still blush when I think of her)

Remember waking up for school in the morning and not noon?
Remember feeling all grown up wearing full pants to school?
(leather shoes and your first pocket money...)

Remember using ink pens because they improved handwriting?
Remember lauging over the ink blotches all over your friends face, not knowing you had more on your own?
(I yet cannot write without blotting paper)

Remember getting embarrassed when you hear a couple say "I love you" to each other?
Remember giggling over it with your friends?
(thinking of saying it to a girl at the same time)

Remember feeling proud of your first bicycle?
Remember learning to ride and you never knew when dad let go?
Remember crying over it because he did?
(then realizing you had learnt to ride a bicycle!)

Remember the joy of laughing in the rain?
Remember coming home dripping wet?
(I still do that when I can)

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Woh school ki seedi woh pyaar bhari baatein
Woh syllabus ki tension woh exam ki raatein,
Canteen ki party woh b'day ki laatein,
ruthna manana woh bunk mulakate,
Library mein woh sona woh music
woh movie woh cards ki magic,
Proposal ki planning mein raat ka gujarna,
Fir class k peehche ki seat pe sona
Library mein jakar chehro ko padna
Betuki bato ko seriously lena,
Woh matlab ki batein hasi mein udana,
Na woh din hai na raate na gussa na baatein,
Agar Kuch Hai To Bas "YAADEIN HI YAADEIN"......

The music’s up full volume and you have your favourite rock band screaming their heads off. You’re heart’s thumping to the beat and there’s a small bead of sweat trickling down your forehead even though the air conditioner is on. You step lightly on the gas pedal and hear your beast rev lightly. Your left hand is placed lightly on the gear shift and right hand grips the steering wheel. You look at the timer on the signal as it slowly counts down to zero.

Red…Three….two…red...one….zero…green!

You step on the gas with all you have as your car roars to life and speeds down the now empty road. You look to your sides and see the other drivers coming up to speed and you step on the accelerator harder, pushing your car to go even faster. Your heartbeat races as you see the speedometer rise rapidly up the scale.

80…90…100…faster! Faster! they’re gaining… 100…110..

You glance at your rear view mirror and see a white Mercedes speed effortlessly towards you, doing maybe a 150 or a 180 kmph, you don’t quite know, and at that moment you don’t care. All you know is that you can’t let that sonofagun overtake you. Up ahead you see the near-empty road stretch out and you know that you have a wide berth to speed, but the problem is, so does he. With a powerful beauty that he has, there’s no chance your measly Toyota can beat him, but you try anyway. 120…140…160…you can feel the rush of adrenaline kick in. You love speed. You know you were born for this. You know that even with such a beast at his command, he cannot beat you.

Sounded familiar? This wasn’t anything out of a movie or even a piece of fiction. Maybe some of you can even relate to this. I do. And no, this wasn’t even a street race of any sorts. It happened to me and what more, it was just a simple drive from one traffic signal to the freeway here in Mumbai, something that happened this evening as I was driving through town. I’d met up with some friends and gone for a quick drive on palm beach road. It was an empty road and smooth enough. It’s actually one of the best maintained roads that side of town. Even so, high speeds are extremely risky. But the rush of blood to your head, the adrenaline pumping through your blood, the exhileration of knowing the power of the machine at your command..it’s addictive. It’s worse than a drug. A drug kills you slowly. This one, it can kill you in an instant and you, sadly will feel every bit of it. And to top it all, it grips you the instant you step behind the wheel. I love it. I don’t think it’s something to be ashamed or be sorry about. But yes, this is the need for speed. And it needs to be controlled. After I returned home, I spoke to a friend of mine, lets call her Ms.B. Well, I told Ms.B about this incident and she, being the sensible good friend, went ballistic! We had a huge discussion on this and as usual, both had our own opinions, although yours truly, being in the wrong(well, ever so slightly anyway :grin: ), had not much to argue about.

Anyway, it finally boiled down to two things. First, no matter how much you may think you are in control when you drive a car, fact remains that you’re only 50% in control. The rest is up to the other drivers, the road itself, and of course, lady luck. If you’re alone in the car(or on your bike), it’s not like you should take risks then, but if that’s the case then you’re solely responsible for your life and no one else’s. But if you have passengers in the car, you’re responsible for more than your own life. And the responsibility of life? How big a deal is that! I mean, just imagine, you’re in God’s place. You control whether that person is safe or not. In that situation, is it really appropriate to race, to speed, to travel at speeds of a hundred and twenty, knowing fully well, if something goes wrong, it’s not just you that will get hurt. And not just that, and here we come to the second thing - Even if you’re alone, and you end up injured from an accident, think of your loved ones. What of them? YOU know you’re alright mentally and will recover physically, but do they? Won’t they be scared out of their minds.

Few questions that ran across our minds:

Is it really “cool” to rev cars, to have pimped up rides and race them even in traffic congested areas? Guess not. Is it so macho, so “masculine” to race and speed on open roads? Again no.

Well, it was an enlightening discussion. She managed to make her point very very clear(trust me, even my mom can’t manage be so clear) and that, funnily brought me to make a promise to myself that I shall not speed excessively, which I normally tend to do. So for that, thank you so much Ms.B! Owe you a big one!

Slowly I opened my eyes. I could faintly hear songbirds singing in faraway trees, welcoming the glorious sun with their melody. I wiped the little beads of perspiration from my brow which came from an especially humid night. I sat up in my bed and took in a deep breath. Wait...what was that smell? Was it... No, it can't be...Not so soon! It was the smell of wet earth! How could I not recognize it? It meant it had rained last night!.. I jumped out of bed and ran to the window.

All around me, I could see the fresh sparkle of dew glistening in the morning light, the leaves newly washed and blossoming in their resplendent glory. As I took in the beautiful scenery that spread out in front of me, I heard excited chirps. First, softly; Then it grew louder and louder till I could hear nothing else. I couldn't believe my ears! Sparrows, hundreds of them, filling up the trees and chirping their hearts out. It was quite the sight for me. I had thought that sparrows were dying out in Mumbai and here I was, sitting in sparrow haven! After a while as the chirps softened a little, the songbirds picked up where the sparrows left off. It was a musical rhapsody like no other. I just stood at the window enraptured by the unusual orchestra and drifted off. The songbirds evoked so many emotions within me and I stood, drowning in the ever changing moods of their song. One sang of his lost mate, of their everlasting love, of how much his soul longed for its partner and of how much he missed their bond. Another sang of the new day, welcoming the good things to come and wishing the bad away with a beautiful melody that not even the most skilled of musicians can reproduce. It was a perfect blend of emotions. And as I closed my eyes, stretched out my arms and drew in another deep breath, a small smile danced on my lips and knew that it was the perfect start to a day.

Is it me or are the trains getting more and more crowded by the day? For the past one month I've taken to travelling by train to and from work, mainly because the time taken to go from Chembur to Churchgate by road is approximately the same amount of time I take to drive down to Pune. Why you ask? Simple, our dear authorities at the Municipal Corporation have happily decided to commence "infrastructural developments" right before the rain Gods start their own infra-dev. Anyway, back to point, the trains...Have you ever seen a tin full of sardines?
How many people are there in Mumbai anyway? Judging by the way trains are packed, half of the city must be empty by noon since everyone's gone to work. And the stench, Oh So Lovely! For once in your lifetime try sniffing the armpits of fifty different persons at one go. God only knows how dogs survive, sniffing each others' butts just to say hello(and they don't even wash after a potty break!) Remember the tin of sardines up there? Add a few rotten ones and I rest my case.

Talking about trains, I left late from work today. Took the last train home and what an amazing ride it was. The wide empty roads of South Mumbai at night coupled with the cool weather from the pre-monsoon showers and an extra large plate of bhurji pav (scrambled eggs with bread loaves for the unfortunate ones who haven't experienced this culinary delight) made for an amazing night journey. And you get all sorts of weird people travelling, with you. One of them definitely has to be the quintessential drunkard, teetering on the edge of tripping over his own pants and stinking of desi daaru -

Drunk Guy: bhaisaahab, kidhar ki gaadi hai?
Me : Arre bhai, Mumbai ki hi hai.(Killer PJ ne?)
DG(even worse) : Thoda daaru hai kya?
Me : Khatam ho gaya.
Hearing this, Drunk Guy then starts abusing the hell out of me while I stand and laugh shamelessly at him.
DG : Tum c*#@%& hai...tum daru kyon nahi rakha mere liye? Tumko sharam nahi hai? Akele nai peene ka!
By now, every single person in the compartment is in splits!
He suddenly remembers there are others in the compartment too, so he turns to every one of them and asks for "daaru" Not finding any after a long exchange of questions and abuses, he finally sits down and passes out scratching his crotch.