The high-octane life!

I found myself in a catch-22 situation when, despite assuming that my life had steadily changed over a period of time, I couldn't help but admit how life looks drastically different at various micro-levels, looking back. These micro-levels altered my life at a macro-level. Upon having a discussion with a friend who drew my attention to how, today, we all prefer living our lives in the fast lane, and many compromise on their future needs and requirements, just to be able to sustain a modern-day lifestyle. Can money buy comfort and luxury? Yes. Does a glorified social status improve one's standard of living? Yes, under pressure. Does money indulge? Certainly. But the real question here is, 'At what cost?' Money's indulgence seems short-lived and fails to seem legit when bigger hopes and wishes are compromised upon. As much as the argument of enjoying the allowances of a friendly environment and lifestyle seems appealing, there is also a thought spared for the output and longevity of our actions, for the greater good.

The atmosphere is competitive. Time is running out. There is a drastic upsurge in the activities and ideas that multiply rapidly. Making quick bucks has become a norm. And there is no looking back for spendings. Educational qualifications are at par. City life has gained totally different momentum. Material riches are shaping attitudes and personalities. Nuclear set-up of homes has catalyzed independent thinking. Has the change struck, now? But, in keeping with the daily requirements and demands of the life I lead, this qualifies as a very basic life, say many. In fact, my outings and parties with friends, my fitness and vanity enhancing regimens, and healthcare requirements haven't even found a mention in this ever expanding list, says one of the 21st century go-getters. Amidst all these doings, how and why should one ever find a reason to slower his/her pace of life and let a low-on-ostentation life take over, like before? Much to my dismay, I have lived my life according to a certain standard, without ever thinking if my life has been a product of the society's influence or if I have inadvertently been pressured to chug that path of life, which is both emotionally and financially exploiting. Although, today it seems like my life is torn over between what has been socially deemed acceptable and what I have grown up on.

Media has been the biggest game-changer when it comes to enlightening and overthrowing the old, familiar Indian lifestyle. Fashion senses have evolved, and how! Shopping season that would arrive once every year, mostly coinciding with a festival, no more requires an occasion to arrive. An organic generation gap seems too heavy to bear, and at times also seems like mental baggage. Family outings and get-togethers over dinner have been traded for potlucks, clubbing, and weekend getaways with friends and colleagues. I was growing up when this noteworthy transition took place, and for some reason, this transition victimized people before they could manage to come to terms with this speedy change.  Growing up with the basic necessities of life and occasional add-ons, gratitude has become second nature to me, for all that I had back then, but seems somewhat missing, today. A city like Mumbai may resemble a match-box when one considers the proximity and size of homes. But, the warmth and affection do not flow as easily as the wrath of the people, around. Sharing a bed, earlier, never required much of a thought. The same thing today, after a decade or two, seems like a major life decision. What can these changes be attributed to?

Today, there is no better feeling than that of being born at a time when the constant buzzing of a phone did not eat into my personal space. It feels good to revel in the old world charm of people being able to afford to be totally inaccessible, and access their deepest desires. Gratitude is also shown for the time when family talks/chats were prioritized over reel life family dramas. The art of sharing and saving up for later, and the greater joy of rejoicing the stored treasure of one's favorite cake have become the fondest memories. And also, the feeling of having witnessed a life where the people living together made a house, and not the other way round. I shall pride myself for being able to differentiate between a robotic and absolutely carefree and non-robotic life. And also for knowing what it is like reading a hard copy of a book before the kindle came in, what enjoying swings and see-saws in a park is like before video games took over. I know that a bed-time story will always hold more essence than falling asleep to Angry Birds on television. I know how a normal life existed before the high-octane life took over.

Air rides, flying syndrome, etc

Summer is right here. And when summer cruises through, travel plans decide to invade. So of course, it is destinations galore. Except, every time one has to clock long miles by air, the thought of long flights makes every other thought turn turtle. Or maybe it is the jet-lag which follows, that plays spoilsport and disrupts the excitement and immediate schedule of one's travel plans.

I'm someone who seizes every opportunity to cuddle and play with babies. Babies are soft and warm; and the cute species that they are, they also make for the best stress busters. As honest and factual as the previous statement happens to be, it is also an open-ended one. No guesses then, that baby passengers are a big no-no. My dislike for baby travelers can be attributed to a flight I was on, sometime back, when an infant had resolved to cause a mental riot on the aircraft; maybe so that he could draw everyone's attention to how his bassinet had no comfort, while the babies seated in the first class were having a gala time in their comfy and spacious bassinets. Also, I'm not sure if it's just me, but late night flights seem to be the most adventurous ones, when it comes to tracking one's actions and emotions. Every time I have boarded a late night/midnight flight, the importance of my bed in my life has increased substantially. The compact and if-you-recline-the-passenger-behind-gives-you-dirty-looks seats just add to the misery of every economy class traveler. As a kid, I always admired air travel. I don't know if I was lured by the goodies that a kid receives on flights or by the air of sophistication and the sense of everybody showing high levels of discipline or at least pretending to do so until the aircraft landed, when it began to look more like a Mumbai local. Window seats are great when one wants to remain oblivious to the on-flight happenings, until that extra glass of water makes you rush to the loo, inconveniencing everyone on your way out. Unlike the scenario on every train journey, on a flight, one is unknowingly expected to head straight to where the lavatory is, without making any animated gestures towards anybody on the way. Like anybody who has traveled by trains in large groups would know, there are always a few people from the group who love to jump compartments. These are the people who, when they want to use the toilet, leave their seats minutes in advance, just so that there is ample time to greet everyone on the way and have a cup or two of tea, if insisted upon.

My vote always goes to the helpless flight attendants who are at the receiving end of many a passenger's frustration and high-handedness and still have to smile like they are pleased to have them on board. It is both annoying and hilarious, in equal measure, to see some passengers ignore the flight crew, when they prepare to spring out of their respective seats before every landing. I seriously wish to know if these people really think that the flight is going to take-off without letting them exit. How I wish I could know the answer, someday! The other alternative to understanding the reason behind this oh-so-silly action is to get feedback forms filled by passengers, just to know if that is their way of retaliating for a terrible flying experience. Whatever the case, these are the same people who believe in halting the road traffic when they get into a minor accident with another vehicle.

I'm looking forward to a journey when every passenger will have a separate cabin, which will almost be akin to a private journey. The cabin should be inaccessible to any view or sound of babies throwing a fit, and fat aunties encroaching on the other person's seat through the arm rest, while using the reclining mechanism. Meanwhile, I hear that the real reason why Kingfisher Airlines got grounded was the free flowing booze, that left the passengers incapacitated. Guess, extreme sophistication brings its own perils.

The act of balancing the equilibrium

It is quite often that I find myself mulling over the ironies of life. And I dare not say that they are far and few between. I have reached a point where I enjoy looking at everything as a third person. Right perspective is often obtained when things are looked at without dragging oneself into the situation, which is also when things start veering from 'Me against the world' to 'This is what the ideal situation should have been like.'

You know irony exists when you see a person who finds it difficult to make a choice between a $2000 Versace bag and Swarovski diamond set, when there is someone on the streets who barely has any clothes for cover. Irony is right in your face when you witness nations warring in the name of religion, and simultaneously you see fundamentalists stressing on why a woman on her periods should not be allowed in the periphery of the idol of a God. Irony is palpable when a meritorious student commits suicide for losing his/her college seat to someone who gets in by giving a donation. The irony gets greater when a woman wearing a crop top is labelled 'untamed', whereas a woman who reveals her stomach and back in a saree is seen as being virtuous in the name of 'sanskaar'. Why is it that a beggar sleeping on the roadside seems much more content and peaceful than a successful entrepreneur, who pops pills to handle the stress of juggling a dozen ventures? Why are marriages often dreaded and made to be the target of jokes, when people that choose to remain single are subjected to strong judgements and snide remarks of the society? We live in a world where it takes a person's death to realize their importance and value in our lives. We have resorted to the medium of satire to understand and tackle the society in a better fashion, and on the other side we have politicians, like say an Arvind Kejriwal or a Rahul Gandhi, who have proved that they can go to any length to get votes, even if that means having to ridicule and shame themselves into furthering their ulterior motives. The hit on the head that secures the nail comes in the form of a certain section of the society frivolously upholding its religious tradition of protecting the cow by violating the human peace on the basis of a mere suspicion of someone having violated that tradition.

The line between being virtuous and ethical and accepting everything at face value and not questioning the existence of norms is blurred. Realizing the existence of that blurred line is mastering the art of balancing the equilibrium in a place where distortion exists in every respect of life. Ironies arise from the lack of practice of questioning why things exist a certain way. We simply view success as rising higher in the eyes of the world and hence, comes the pressure of keeping up the facade of being subservient to commonalities and stereotypes. And failures have a yardstick that is defined by the most miserable downfalls, by default. Picture an A car running at 120 kmph in front of a B car that is moving at 100 mph. The driver of car B may find 120 kmph too high a speed limit. Sure. I agree. And as a third person who is just an observer of the two cars, I also do not approve of the speed limit of car B. But, the driver of car B who compares the speed of his car with that of car A will always live thinking that he is driving safe. Such is the method of our functioning? Why is someone's wrongdoing used to balance our acts? A wrongdoing will always remain a wrongdoing, however much it is tampered with.

So, why is one religion's misfortune blamed on the existence of another religion? A blame game does not reduce the intensity of a misfortune. How does a rival's downfall and source of pain become one's antidote? Treading the path of non-encroachment seems like the best way to maintain the balance in life. Competing with someone above oneself leads to a life of underestimation, whereas looking down will only delay the journey to reach the finish point. To sum it up, an ice-cream either melts or causes a brain freeze, if eaten at a speed other than your own.

Teachers' wonders

         


                                                               
                     
Helping hands have blurred
Warnings and scoldings have waned 
Care and concern have died a sudden death
Lessons have become shallow,
O teacher, how I miss the days,
When finishing your homework was the biggest worry!
                                

Living without a time-table borders on helplessness,
A break lacks worth without a bell,
Notoriety without punishments is futile,
The blueprint for life is unavailable,
O teacher, I want to relive the days,
When getting a star in my book was the greatest source of joy.


The time when 'Sorry' was a golden word,
Getting consoled after tears filled the eyes was the best therapy,
A remark in the handbook was the only disappointment,
The excitement of sitting on the front desk was palpable,
O teacher, I yearn to learn more.
And I promise to never give you a chance to complain.


Under your tutelage, time just rushed,
Glad I am to have been your protégé.
Even a million thank you's will not justify your stature,
For every child you have enlightened,
Gratitude will flow through an entire generation.
O teacher, do look back to see your child soar high,
It is my teacher who believed in my ability to fly.

2000s video games that rule our memories

Realization dawned on me when I tracked the source of various life lessons to the many video games I played as a child, even though a lot of them were also responsible for letting my imagination go into overdrive. I doubt whether kids of today's generation would even come close to cherishing the few-but-spectacular video games the way the kids in the 2000s did, let alone underscoring their learnings. One of the major reasons why our bond remains special was the lack of easy access and frequent hanging up of the computer screen, back then. Isn't it?
Here's my vaguely arranged list of all the killer video games that rocked the 2000s....

1) NFS (Need For Speed) - My earliest memories of playing video games remain those of aimlessly pressing all the buttons on the keyboard, hoping that my car's speed would accelerate to 200 kmph so that I could win the race. Sadly, I did not know that those fancy cars and the speed they were driven at are the stuff dreams are made of.

2) Super Mario - This is the one game I could always play without having to worry about what my parents would think. Because seriously, what would anybody's parents find offensive about a man who rightfully collects money on a rescue journey that sees many a hurdle and perpetrator. On the contrary, Super Mario teaches us that if you aim high enough, then even you can collect some coins along the way.

3) Prince - My real fighting prowess came to the fore every time Prince picked up a sword to fight the devil. For me, MCP will always stand for Male Chauvinist Prince. He resembled the ultimate dream man, albiet on the computer screen.

4) Disney's Alladin - I was totally smitten by Genie and had bought into the notion that Genie actually existed in real life and that it had magical powers. So much so that I bought a water bottle just for the cut out of Genie pasted on it. Alladin's nemesis haunted me for the longest time in my dreams. A part of me always wanted to grow up to be Alladin's princess. This game literally personifies the term ''smiling away to glory.''

5) GTA Vice City - If someone ever asked me what was addiction, then this game would me my savior. Aspirin found a totally new place in my dictionary after GTA Vice City came into being. Killing and running over people never seemed more fun. Thanks to this game, my experience of mass murdering has seen me do away with various miscreants in my life, even if it is just in my imagination. Unfortunately for my parents, by the time they started to reprimand me for my obsession, I was already an expert in the game.

6) Doom - This game should conveniently be renamed 'Don't play this game if you suffer from Misophonia.' How was one supposed to play this game with no one around! Opening the doors of a prison cell with a 180-degree view only added to the horror. Sometimes, a game like this balanced the overtly bright and colorful setups in most other games.

7) Stuart Little - A little cuteness and notoriety was something we all needed after fighting terror and Armadeggon in some other games. As someone who played for Stuart, looking at humans all around did seem a tad bit agonizing when miniatures did not find a voice in the happenings around.

Today, when I come across games like The Angry Birds and The Temple Run among the others, all I think is that the options may have increased a hundred fold, but I doubt if the levels of ecstacy and the fervour of kids, today, can ever match the excitement and thunder that kids experienced a decade ago. Meanwhile, Nintendo is launching an updated version of Super Mario through its app. Let's see if it is able to arouse the child in me!  

Scenes from a farewell

The much awaited D-day came and stirred many an emotion and unfolded all the classroom razzmatazz for one last time with a pinch of nostalgia. The day was marked by forging the final set of memories constituting the college life. The many memories of getting away with notoriety and loud talks, because one is still considered to be in a learning phase, then, laughing without a care in the world, bright smiles, and the bare hugs shall refuse to fade away for the longest time, and will always hold proof to the fact that good times don't last forever.

Surprisingly, I did not realize that my college life was almost behind me till I was at the farewell. And should I mention just how thrilled I was being there! It was an evening where I rewinded the time to when I first entered the college, directionless, with a set of pre-conceived notions about being in an environment of the grown-ups. I always fancied the idea of a farewell since I was a child. Seeing pictures of people gleefully posing in graduation robes never failed to mesmerize me. And now, it was my time to don one, ready to be catapulted into the big world. In some way, the farewell validates our ability to take over bigger challenges in life. So it was quite ironic for me to think ''Why is it all over?'', when my dream was coming true. For once, I just wanted to hold onto everything happening around me. Yes, I wanted to hold onto that time, I wanted to exhaust myself into talking about the days gone by and how much I was taking back from the college. The college that turned my doubts into certainties, my vulnerable streaks into formidable ones, my risks into challenges, and my passion into my strength should never know of grudges and complaints. Today, all I wish for is to strive towards never failing my very-soon-to-be alma mater.

The farewell took place on a Saturday evening, which meant that I had ample time to enhance my vanity. Many outfits were changed and frowned upon before settling down for the one which suited best for the occasion. The hours following up to the prosperous evening bore witness to my excitement and many hushed whispers about the big celebration. My Whatsapp chats with friends were flooded with pictures and ideas about the perfect dress for the evening and the anxiety within everyone to get the perfect look was palpable. The anxiety within me died down only when I reached the venue before time. I was advised from home to ensure that I had enough storage on my phone to save the countless selfies that I ended up taking. Being in a gathering of 1500 odd students meant that we would be overdosing on smiles and chirpy laughter that evening. While a lot of us were buzzing with talks of future plans and goals, some just decided to let their emotional streak get the better of them. And while future options and plans were being discussed, there were a few who were certain about where they saw themselves in a few years, while some restricted themselves to talking about their immediate academic goal. The one thing that remained constant throughout the evening was a satisfactory smile across 1500 faces. And that had to be inevitable, given the first big step towards success had been attained. On the one hand, where the student committee members were running helter-skelter to manage the proceedings of the evening, the rest were going berserk over the EDM music that was blaring. And there was no way anyone could get away without getting crashed by a multitude of high-on-graduation students. Sometimes, mobile phones can wreak havoc at social dos, where every other person in a group is only interested in taking pictures and selfies in every corner of the venue, posing with every mortal, like they are a rare commodity. Much to my surprise, I acknowledged quite a few classmates only in pictures on my phone, as it turned out that I was engrossed in posing and photobombing. Such is life, these days!

A couple of decades down the line, I wish to remember this life as vividly as I can, just to be able to tell my grandchildren that glorious moments may not find permanence in life, but they always live on in the memory of time. And this farewell shall never be forgotten, as till I will know life, I shall call myself a proud graduate.

The underbelly of prostitution

There is a whole lot of disgrace attached to the business of prostitution and stigma to the prostitutes that constitute this dark world. Prostitutes are considered as mere commodities by the society, by denying them self-respect, justice, acknowledgement and the dignity of labor. Has anyone ever spared a thought about the pull factors of prostitution? Going by the number of sex workers renting their flesh to earn a living, doesn't the demand for their services contribute equally to the thriving of the sex trade? Shouldn't they be acknowledged for the plain reason that it is because of them that the women of our land are safe and can live without any fear of being raped and sexually assaulted?

I'm totally convinced that sex trade is not something one would even remotely fantasize about and happily be part of. Most of the prostitutes in India have either been sold to brothels or introduced to the profession owing to knowing someone from within the business. Girls under the age of 14 who are forced into sex slavery are prevented from gaining access to education and proper healthcare. These minors grow up to be adults who barely have any exposure and idea about the life that exists outside of what they do. All their lives, the only question they dodge revolves around what made them choose wooing men, almost bare-bodied, and redeeming their character in exchange for money. And then, some hold them responsible for provoking men and exploiting the society by thinking that they just want to have fun. Does the fun factor play any part when most of these women have been disowned by their families for doing what feeds their stomach? Can the fun last when the only reason they indulge in the act of providing bodily pleasures is to fund their children's education who will ultimately come to terms with the helplessness that a sex worker's child is meant to live with? Can the bodily pleasures go beyond the lack of access to protection which puts them at a serious risk of contracting HIV/AIDS? Can the fun survive the fear of having to face severe consequences in the form of police investigation and raids for indulging in a trade which is largely illegal? Nothing in this world but helplessness can force someone to put their moral character at risk and prepare them to accept the eventualities of life.

A lot of movies and documentaries have highlighted the lives of sex workers and the ordeal they go through in their day-to-day lives because of the nature of their work. These movies have gained a vote of support from the masses as a whole and, efforts have been made to provide help to sex workers by making them aware about the importance of protection and trying to legalize their profession. But, what still remains is the mentality and perception of a majority of the population which relegates them to a place in the trash can, where all they are surrounded with is waste. Even today, every time someone passes a red light area by, snide remarks are always made about how intoxicating and cheap this business and the people in it are. This clearly highlights the hypocrisy that exists in our society, wherein, as much as we are thankful for the existence of prostitution and willing to legalize the profession, trying to look at them without judging them is something that seems beyond us. The recent example of actress Shweta Basu Prasad, who was exposed for being part of a sex racket just further validates the point that, the victim blaming culture is something that we refuse to move beyond. While the ones who get indulged get off scot-free, the females have are left with added struggles to survive all the bashing, injustice and trauma that follow.

We easily entertain the beggars and urchins with sympathy. There is quite a difference between those that stay helpless and those that battle helplessness. And those who battle helplessness to fend for themselves, despite being labelled 'whores' and 'sluts', should be more deserving of our thoughts and sympathies. It takes guts and strength of mind to not fall prey to the prying eyes of the people by trying to find your voice to face the society, when all the people around you want to do is judge you and get the better of you.

In the end, mortality is all that remains!

Once, there existed a king known to be very shrewd and evil. The thought of entering his territory was dreaded by many. The people of his kingdom never dared to interact with him for the plain reason that if they said anything wrong, they would be subjected to harsh punishments. The king's ability to successfully battle threats and obstacles form external sources was the primary reason why he was accepted by the people of his kingdom. Through his reigning years, the king was contained by his pride and ego. After the years of glory faded away into oblivion, all that the king was left with was his own sense of being, which was life in its real form. However, till his death, the king could never really grasp the reality of life after all the power he considered to be permanent was gone.

In our heydays, we often tend to lose touch with the real world. Certainly. Some of us, a little earlier than the others. Because we all have wings that are fully developed in our prime, falling down is almost impossible. When we take off, the thought about touching down upon a destination is certain. But sometimes, we start flying so high that we lose sight of the ground we took off from. In our lives, that ground can mean anything from culture, values, roots among others. It is good to fly high so long as practicality exists in the form of knowing that the flight cannot go on forever. And one fine day we shall have to come down to where we belong. The only difference we find is that, some people choose to fly, keeping their reality intact, while some people refuse to look down. Some of us reach tremendous heights in our lives, sometimes being alone in the firmament. The time when we look to come down is when we realize that we have left our destination far behind. At times, we get so involved in achieving materialistic goals that we overlook the fact that it was happiness and contentment that we had set out to attain in the context of what we did. Joy and satisfaction are not destinations. We all live thinking that after a certain age, when we will have enough money, happiness will follow us eventually.

I'm often told that I'm at an age when all that should matter is meeting new people, working hard enough towards achieving my goals and achieving financial success. But my focus inevitably keeps coming back to the core elements of life that will determine the outcome of my future courses of action. As important as it is to gain social and financial relevance, I'm well aware of the fact that these successes are not permanent. If I'm in a career which gives me umpteen rewards if I succeed, then I should also know that I'm only as good as my last success. I will not be in the reckoning as soon as I quit. So when I clearly know that my successes and failures won't last forever, then it is only beneficial for me to know that I should live a life that allows me to look beyond the periphery of what I do. As I grow older, I increasingly get protective of my real self. Every moment becomes a battle between learning something new and retaining the sensibilities and ideologies I have lived by. As the options of newer ideas float around for my approval, I keep becoming more and more mindful about which ones to buy into. The world keeps giving me different tags depending on the various roles they have seen me embodying. It is only I who will ever know the truth of my life. That my time here is limited is well known and I must juggle various labels with the ultimate one being that of a mortal. My core identity of being a puppet in this universe can never change because of any any self-proclaimed puppeteer.

Abraham Lincoln made a very powerful statement when he said that, ''Nearly all men can stand adversity, but if you want to test a man's character, give him power.'' Many greats have successfully passed the test of character only after adversity introduced them to their limitations. Being aware about our limitations makes power seem transient. The only and only way one can ever become powerful is by breathing life into his/her true character. And anything that takes you away from your mortality, is only stealing from you the very purpose of your existence. And that is why the people who are the happiest are the ones who have never owned fame, money and success. They just co-exist with the riches of the mind. Talk about the enlightened souls!

Reena's Salon

The concept of salons, today, has changed quite a bit from the one that existed sometime back. Today, the salon business has become way more professional. Initially, salons were mostly home-based. Women who were passionate about grooming and styling and who had done a course in the same would decide to convert a section of their homes into a salon. And they were known to be popular only among people belonging to well-off families. I always enjoyed visiting those cozy looking salons where 'Only For Ladies' was very clearly highlighted. As a child who accompanied her mother, looking at the women around getting groomed, somehow, made me form a perception that all the ladies would be headed straight to a kitty party from the salon.

Reena's Salon is a salon located in Ghatkopar, Mumbai. It reminds me of the salons that existed some twenty years ago. Recently, the salon got revamped and all the latest equipments integral to a grooming salon were installed. What remains intact is the constant buzzing of the girls working there, sometimes keeping the clients entertained with personal stories and anecdotes, and at other times, arguing and indulging in funny fights with their owner, Reena. The equation between Reena and her employees looks like everything but a professional one. Those who don't know these women would be totally amazed to see the bond they share.

There is a television screen right at the entrance playing a Hindi soap to soothe the high octane drama that goes on in the salon during other times. While Reena is totally engrossed in watching the soap, one of the girls named Priya goes up to her saying, ''Aunty hand-shower mein garam paani kaise laate hai?'' Since Reena has her eyes fixed on the television screen, she does not reply. Two minutes later, totally distracted, Reena gets up from the couch to help Priya out. She complains to me how Priya and Rani, both her assistants have been disturbing her all through the day and how they have not even let her have a good chat with her daughter, who has come to visit her in the salon. I don't give a reaction and immediately turn to another client sitting beside me, who cannot stop smiling. Reena tells me that all her clients are used to her nature and style of functioning. The atmosphere is so informal and unpretentious that I feel they hate being professionals in a way that would force them to put on a mask and behave in a certain fashion. Suddenly, Reena points to a new baby shower that they have installed and happily talks about how she is expecting baby clients to start pouring in the salon, soon. Reena has managed to adjust the shower to hot water. She is teased by Priya for taking a lot of time to understand the working of the shower. Reena laughs away. And this time, even I cannot stop laughing. There have been certain instances in my life which have resonated so well with me that they fail to get out of my mind. My visit to this salon has been one such instance. At times when you don't feel anything, the atmosphere conspires to play on your psyche.

As I was getting ready to leave, I heard Reena losing her mind when she saw that the cap on a bottle of nail paint was not fitted well. When she enquired to know who was at fault, I, standing in a corner, mentally reached out to the one who would be at the receiving end of Reena's anger. In a fit of rage, the mistake-doer was given a piece of her mind and also a lesson in fitting caps on bottles along with a punch in the arm, like a mother would scold her tough-to-deal-with child. I was escorted to the exit. And all I was thinking was how a person like Reena, who was a boss, a mother and someone who was catering to the requirements of her clients and, not to forget, a television addict, all at the same time, managed to find absolute consistency in her approach towards all that she juggled, without any apprehensions. The dogs who greeted me on my way out were all over me and didn't see a stranger in me. I guess, Reena forgot to mention that even the dogs in the society were so used to her that, everyone maintained uniformity in their behavior in and around Reena's Salon.

Every ride on the streets of Mumbai

The city of Mumbai is a glorified one. There are various connotations used to define the city, with some of the most famous ones being, 'The city that never sleeps', 'The city of dreams' and 'The heart of India' among others. And how about 'The city which has redefined traffic?' Although the Mumbai traffic may not officially find a place amidst its other well known facts, one can certainly not consider Mumbai without thinking about the vehicular congestion that encapsulates the city.
Every conversation about Mumbai that inadvertently highlights its traffic scenario....

Person X: Where are you planning to go for your postgraduate studies?

Person Y: Umm.... I have shortlisted Pune, Bangalore, Ahmedabad and Mumbai which offer the course I want to specialise in. But Mumbai seems like the most ideal option. I'm almost on the verge of finalising a college in Mumbai. Even though Mumbai is a little more expensive than the rest of the cities, in the end it is the 'It' city.

Person X: Okay, but do you know....

Person Y: You have been living in Mumbai for quite sometime now and I'm sure once you have lived in Mumbai you would never want to live anywhere else. Right?

Person X: Before coming to Mumbai, even I had painted an idealistic picture of the city. No doubt, everything is good except for the city's roads and its traffic, which make me want to have wings. People in Mumbai who travel long distances everyday spend half their lives traveling. A place that should usually take 10 minutes to reach takes 30-40 minutes in this city's traffic. What does one do with all the money in the world when time is more precious than money?

Person Y: Oh really? I never knew the situation would be so bad.

Person X: You bet!

The traffic graph is on a rise, so much so that an active Mumbaikar gets to enjoy ample alone time while driving. Ideally, from the time a person starts his day till the time he reports to work, all his to-do things must be checked off. Right from walking upto the car which is parked in a distant corner due to space constraints that helps burn calories to making all the important and I-shall-be-late-due-to-traffic calls to taking glances at the newspaper when at the red light to doing good karma by helping eunuchs and street urchins with some money while stuck in traffic, a car ride in Mumbai is wholesome in all respects. If that is not enough, the alone time you get coupled with good music in the background can bail you out of any and every worry-that-be. If all of this is not enough, there is also a great deal of work that needs to be carried out on the social media front. There are always some pending Facebook updates that need to be checked along with equal number of posts to be liked and commented upon. And if you are looking presentable enough for a selfie, an Instagram upload is definitely a good idea. Please correct me if I'm wrong, but in today's day and age, if you have a smart phone with good internet connectivity then you are never alone. C'mon, what can you not do with that smartphone? Pun intended.

The other set of people who take local buses to travel have their own stories to tell. Imagine getting on a crowded bus with barely any place to stand and involuntarily having to smell the armpits of the passengers around and being at the receiving end of taunts and frustration from the bus conductor every time you fail to produce the exact money for the ticket! If one ever manages to get a window seat on a bus and if there is a long ride that awaits, then sleep can never avoid him/her. Because nothing is more familiar than a bumpy ride combined with chaos all around, which makes every Mumbaikar feel at home.