Dasvidaniya! Dasvidaniya. Wondered what it meant. Someone told me its a russian word. I heard this when the movie of this name released. In the film the character while going away from a friend waves and says Dasvidaniya. So i thought means saying bye. The word Alvida came to mind. Then when the movie ends, it says 'Dasvidaniya-The best goodbye ever!'
The best goodbye ever. The best goodbye ever.
I wonder what does the word ever signify here? Will there be no better goodbyes now? or will there be no goodbyes now? Is this goodbye the last goodbye, never to meet again? I still don't know.
Thursday, November 20, 2008
Thursday, November 13, 2008
Did I scare you?
It was a winter afternoon in Delhi. The winter sun is really pleasant in Delhi. Most people prefer sitting out in the sun on off days. We were all gathering in our Pitampura house. This is where my grandparents (nana-nani) lived. It was some family occasion, and we were all reaching there from where ever we had been. I was coming from Agra, where my college was.
Just as I entered the building, with my bag on the shoulders I felt as if the elevator had opened and someone just got in. I ran towards it, and just as the door could close, I stuck my arm inside. The door opened again. There was a school girl inside. I walked in.
I kept my bag down, and pressed number 5 for the fifth floor. Since I was coming straight from hostel, I did not get the opportunity to shave for the function. It had been more than a month since I shaved last. And so I had a good healthy beard on me (some people I know, might object to the word healthy here).
I started feeling that my look was making this girl a little uncomfortable. It seemed for her, the elevator was shrinking in size, and she wished for more space. It was also taking its sweet time to climb up to fifth floor. And it seemed unlikely anyone else would join us in it, as we climb up. I looked at this girl (being careful to not stare at her, just look). She seemed to be coming directly from her school, as she still had the uniform on and a little bag on her shoulders. She definetly seemed uncomfortable with me in the elevator. And was probably cursing the elevator for moving too slow. The distance between us would be not have been more than a feet, with only my bag lying in between us.
For some reason I kept looking at her. And she was looking everywhere but me. She looked at the door, then looked up the electronic display to see which floor we had reached. It was still the second floor. Then she looked at her wrist watch. It was a small cute wrist watch, much like those which girls wear. And then again she looked at the electronic display. Maybe she thought of getting down on the next floor itself, and then walk up the stairs. She wanted to take a decision, but she could not. It was one of those moments, where one senses trouble but isn't sure if it is actually trouble. Waiting for the trouble seems suicidal, while the fear of embarrassing oneself when there is actually nothing to fear of is also there. My friend tells me, how often girls face this dilemma in their lives. This girl seemed to be in a similar situation.
I realized me and my beard were making her uncomfortable. And the fact that I was looking right at her were making things worse. But I was still looking at her. To me, it seemed I know her. It seemed that I have seen this girl before, somewhere. It seemed I know this girl. But where? I just couldn't recollect. And while I was trying to recollect, I kept looking at her (which by now would have been staring at her).
"Nancy", I said loudly. She looked at me with a sense of amaze. "Nancy?" (this time it was more of a question. "Jhummu Bhaiya", she said loudly, with a sense of relief and excitement and happiness. It was a mixture of all that. She was my cousin Aditi (fondly called as Nancy in the family, as I was called Jhummu). "Kaisi hai yaar? Did I scare you?". She hugged me. We were meeting after many many years though we lived in the same city. Our mothers were sisters, and we were cousins.
Long time back, our mothers had some difference of opinion as a result we never visited each others' house. As we grew up, we started demanding seeing our cousins, meeting them, but somehow the opportunity never came. This occasion at my grandparents' house was the first such occasion in many years, where the whole family was gathering. And it so happened I met Nancy in the elevator.
The door opened, and we were on the 5th floor. The elevator which was moving too slow just a while back, seemed to have broken the sound barrier and got to the floor in a flash. As we entered the house, the whole family was there. All my uncles, aunts, elder cousins and even the younger ones. My grandparents were having a blast with so many people in there. In all, I think we were 4 generations in that house that day.
Just as I entered the building, with my bag on the shoulders I felt as if the elevator had opened and someone just got in. I ran towards it, and just as the door could close, I stuck my arm inside. The door opened again. There was a school girl inside. I walked in.
I kept my bag down, and pressed number 5 for the fifth floor. Since I was coming straight from hostel, I did not get the opportunity to shave for the function. It had been more than a month since I shaved last. And so I had a good healthy beard on me (some people I know, might object to the word healthy here).
I started feeling that my look was making this girl a little uncomfortable. It seemed for her, the elevator was shrinking in size, and she wished for more space. It was also taking its sweet time to climb up to fifth floor. And it seemed unlikely anyone else would join us in it, as we climb up. I looked at this girl (being careful to not stare at her, just look). She seemed to be coming directly from her school, as she still had the uniform on and a little bag on her shoulders. She definetly seemed uncomfortable with me in the elevator. And was probably cursing the elevator for moving too slow. The distance between us would be not have been more than a feet, with only my bag lying in between us.
For some reason I kept looking at her. And she was looking everywhere but me. She looked at the door, then looked up the electronic display to see which floor we had reached. It was still the second floor. Then she looked at her wrist watch. It was a small cute wrist watch, much like those which girls wear. And then again she looked at the electronic display. Maybe she thought of getting down on the next floor itself, and then walk up the stairs. She wanted to take a decision, but she could not. It was one of those moments, where one senses trouble but isn't sure if it is actually trouble. Waiting for the trouble seems suicidal, while the fear of embarrassing oneself when there is actually nothing to fear of is also there. My friend tells me, how often girls face this dilemma in their lives. This girl seemed to be in a similar situation.
I realized me and my beard were making her uncomfortable. And the fact that I was looking right at her were making things worse. But I was still looking at her. To me, it seemed I know her. It seemed that I have seen this girl before, somewhere. It seemed I know this girl. But where? I just couldn't recollect. And while I was trying to recollect, I kept looking at her (which by now would have been staring at her).
"Nancy", I said loudly. She looked at me with a sense of amaze. "Nancy?" (this time it was more of a question. "Jhummu Bhaiya", she said loudly, with a sense of relief and excitement and happiness. It was a mixture of all that. She was my cousin Aditi (fondly called as Nancy in the family, as I was called Jhummu). "Kaisi hai yaar? Did I scare you?". She hugged me. We were meeting after many many years though we lived in the same city. Our mothers were sisters, and we were cousins.
Long time back, our mothers had some difference of opinion as a result we never visited each others' house. As we grew up, we started demanding seeing our cousins, meeting them, but somehow the opportunity never came. This occasion at my grandparents' house was the first such occasion in many years, where the whole family was gathering. And it so happened I met Nancy in the elevator.
The door opened, and we were on the 5th floor. The elevator which was moving too slow just a while back, seemed to have broken the sound barrier and got to the floor in a flash. As we entered the house, the whole family was there. All my uncles, aunts, elder cousins and even the younger ones. My grandparents were having a blast with so many people in there. In all, I think we were 4 generations in that house that day.
Monday, November 3, 2008
Mumbai day II -- Visiting Giriraj, Afghan Church and Hanging Garden
Day II begins from II Grenadiers mess. I get up early and go for a walk outside. The santri at the gate salutes, saying " Ram Ram saab". Each battalion in army has its own way of wishing each other. I guess for the Grenadiers it is 'Ram Ram'. 'Ram Ram' happens to be a very common form of wishing and greeting each other in western U.P. Once as a kid while I was going to my village along with dad, I remember a muslim man sitting on the way wishing us that way " Ram Ram ji" and my father responded back by saying "Ram Ram ji". I then asked dad, as to why a mussalmaan would also wish taking Ram's name. I don't quite remember his exact answer, but that incident left a mark on me. It just showed the character of our country, our society. We intellectuals can interpret this incident in anyway we wish, but that will not change anything.
Anyways, back to Mumbai Artee had to buy something from Tanishq which was located near Churchgate. I had plans to visit Giriraj who lives near Bombay Hospital, walking distance from Churchgate. So I decided to accompany Artee and Mausiji to Tanishq. It was 10am, and the shop had just opened. As we entered it, I already started feeling out of the place. What was I doing there? As we reached the counter a lady was already sitting there attended by a sales girl. The first sentence I heard in the shop was that of this lady, complaining why the air conditioner was not working. The day had just started, it was hot at all, but this lady wanted an a/c. It simply put me off. I told mausiji that I was leaving and would meet them in afternoon. I just walked out. Walked to Marine lines and sat on the platform facing the sea. Nice breeze blew across my face, and at that time of the day not many people were there. The traffic on the road too was minimal. Sitting there and watching the sea was really good. It was one of the few moments this time when I felt the sense of belonging to the city.
It was 10.30 am by now, and I called Giriraj. We were suppose to meet at 11am. When I had called him yesterday for an appointment, I made sure to use Kanwarjit's name. That made him grant me 30 min on sunday morning. I was to reach at 11 sharp. I walked to Bombay hospital from Marine lines. On reaching the gate of his apartment building, the guard stopped me. I told where I intended to go. On carefully seeing my twice from top to bottom he said ,"Chautha mala" (fourth floor) pointing towards the lift. The word 'mala' is used in Mumbai meaning floor level. In Delhi the for commonly used word is 'manzil'.
I rang the bell at exactly 11am. Giriraj was waiting for me. And we started talking. I spent first 5 min telling about myself, my research area and how Kanwarjit told me about him. After listening to me, he asked me a direct question (not wasting much time) "How can I be of any help?". "oh no no. I dont require any help. I just thought of meeting you. I heard that you had spent some time with Dharampal ji when he was in Wardha. And I thought you would be able to give me some guidance regarding my research area." He looked a little surprised to me. I think he had assumed, I was there for some work. Being a senior IAS officer, many people must be visiting him through some reference for some work or the other. And he thought I was one such person. It took some time for him to realize that I was just visiting him 'Bas Aise Hi'. The concept that someone would visit without an agenda at all seemed so difficult to believe. In modern time, I would be called a 'vella person'.
Well soon he became pretty comfortable and we began talking. I could sense his comfort by his body language. He became a lot more informal now. Folded his legs and sat on the cot. Spread his arms. While he spoke, his hands moved more freely now. I too became a lot relaxed. I bent backwards and used the back rest of the sofa. Soon his wife came and served me Poha. Aaah, lovely. Poha and vada paav were two things I was missing desperately. Soon the 30 min were over, but we were just talking. He was talking about his experience in Yavatmal distt when he was posted there as a collector. His interactions with the farmers and artisans. His interactions with Dharampal ji. His understanding of the Indian culture, and it being a possible solution to all modern day problems. He also talked about the critique of Indian tradition, esp the dalit question. And the major challenge was to mould Indian tradition in todays times. Soon it was over an hour. I was wondering when to ask for leave. He then asked me, "how busy are you today?". "Not much I said". " Good, then lets have lunch together and continue this conversation"....
What to say, I was glad. This man too was enjoying this meeting, just like me. He then went inside and got some old photographs. Then he got a dhoti, which was hand made by some tribals living in Andhra-Orissa border. He showed me the quality of the cloth, and the work which was put in to make that dhoti. We then talked about weavers and other artisans. I told him about this book which Kanwarjit gave me recently 'Art and Swadeshi'. We then had lovely south Indian lunch. And after lunch again we talked. Our 30 min meeting lasted for 2 and half hours. It included a nice yummy poha and a lovely lunch. I was really happy to meet him, and Im sure he too was. He then directed me to the bus stand, and told me which bus to take for Colaba.
I reached back at the mess. In the evening we went to visit Mausaji. Artee also took me to Afgan church, one of the land mark in the cantt area. It was built by the British after the Afghan war. Later in the evening, Artee took me to a drive. We landed at the Hanging garden in Malabar hills. An old Gujju lady guided us to it. It seemed a nice place. A green patch in the middle of concrete jungle. People had come out in the evening for walks. All kinds of them, old couple, kids playing, old parsi women, fat men and women trying to burn body fat. So we decided to walk round the park too. It was too tempting for me, and so I took out my sandals and walked bare feet. I was also trying to see how Artee would react to it. I also wanted to encourage her to walk like that. But she didnt. Then she said, lets walk on the grass. The grass was wet, and I could feel it. It was more fun walking on grass bare feet. I then told her what Abey George told me some months back. I told her, we hardly get a chance to touch soil in our lives. Most of the time we touch concrete or plastic or rubber, but no soil. After this, she too took off her shoes and socks and walked bare feet. I don't know how she felt, but I was really happy to see her 'break free' (in my terms).
We reached back at the hospital by 8pm. Then I had dinner. And then by 9.30pm I decided to leave for Vashi. My mausaji and mausiji there were getting worried. They didnt think much of the idea of me traveling late in the night. I took a bus from R.C church for CST. And then a local train at 10.20pm for Vashi. I reached home at Vashi by 11.30pm. I was glad to see Mausiji and Mausaji. I kind of felt free also. Took off my clothes, with just my chaddi on. I was at home now, kaisi sharam.
Anyways, back to Mumbai Artee had to buy something from Tanishq which was located near Churchgate. I had plans to visit Giriraj who lives near Bombay Hospital, walking distance from Churchgate. So I decided to accompany Artee and Mausiji to Tanishq. It was 10am, and the shop had just opened. As we entered it, I already started feeling out of the place. What was I doing there? As we reached the counter a lady was already sitting there attended by a sales girl. The first sentence I heard in the shop was that of this lady, complaining why the air conditioner was not working. The day had just started, it was hot at all, but this lady wanted an a/c. It simply put me off. I told mausiji that I was leaving and would meet them in afternoon. I just walked out. Walked to Marine lines and sat on the platform facing the sea. Nice breeze blew across my face, and at that time of the day not many people were there. The traffic on the road too was minimal. Sitting there and watching the sea was really good. It was one of the few moments this time when I felt the sense of belonging to the city.
It was 10.30 am by now, and I called Giriraj. We were suppose to meet at 11am. When I had called him yesterday for an appointment, I made sure to use Kanwarjit's name. That made him grant me 30 min on sunday morning. I was to reach at 11 sharp. I walked to Bombay hospital from Marine lines. On reaching the gate of his apartment building, the guard stopped me. I told where I intended to go. On carefully seeing my twice from top to bottom he said ,"Chautha mala" (fourth floor) pointing towards the lift. The word 'mala' is used in Mumbai meaning floor level. In Delhi the for commonly used word is 'manzil'.
I rang the bell at exactly 11am. Giriraj was waiting for me. And we started talking. I spent first 5 min telling about myself, my research area and how Kanwarjit told me about him. After listening to me, he asked me a direct question (not wasting much time) "How can I be of any help?". "oh no no. I dont require any help. I just thought of meeting you. I heard that you had spent some time with Dharampal ji when he was in Wardha. And I thought you would be able to give me some guidance regarding my research area." He looked a little surprised to me. I think he had assumed, I was there for some work. Being a senior IAS officer, many people must be visiting him through some reference for some work or the other. And he thought I was one such person. It took some time for him to realize that I was just visiting him 'Bas Aise Hi'. The concept that someone would visit without an agenda at all seemed so difficult to believe. In modern time, I would be called a 'vella person'.
Well soon he became pretty comfortable and we began talking. I could sense his comfort by his body language. He became a lot more informal now. Folded his legs and sat on the cot. Spread his arms. While he spoke, his hands moved more freely now. I too became a lot relaxed. I bent backwards and used the back rest of the sofa. Soon his wife came and served me Poha. Aaah, lovely. Poha and vada paav were two things I was missing desperately. Soon the 30 min were over, but we were just talking. He was talking about his experience in Yavatmal distt when he was posted there as a collector. His interactions with the farmers and artisans. His interactions with Dharampal ji. His understanding of the Indian culture, and it being a possible solution to all modern day problems. He also talked about the critique of Indian tradition, esp the dalit question. And the major challenge was to mould Indian tradition in todays times. Soon it was over an hour. I was wondering when to ask for leave. He then asked me, "how busy are you today?". "Not much I said". " Good, then lets have lunch together and continue this conversation"....
What to say, I was glad. This man too was enjoying this meeting, just like me. He then went inside and got some old photographs. Then he got a dhoti, which was hand made by some tribals living in Andhra-Orissa border. He showed me the quality of the cloth, and the work which was put in to make that dhoti. We then talked about weavers and other artisans. I told him about this book which Kanwarjit gave me recently 'Art and Swadeshi'. We then had lovely south Indian lunch. And after lunch again we talked. Our 30 min meeting lasted for 2 and half hours. It included a nice yummy poha and a lovely lunch. I was really happy to meet him, and Im sure he too was. He then directed me to the bus stand, and told me which bus to take for Colaba.
I reached back at the mess. In the evening we went to visit Mausaji. Artee also took me to Afgan church, one of the land mark in the cantt area. It was built by the British after the Afghan war. Later in the evening, Artee took me to a drive. We landed at the Hanging garden in Malabar hills. An old Gujju lady guided us to it. It seemed a nice place. A green patch in the middle of concrete jungle. People had come out in the evening for walks. All kinds of them, old couple, kids playing, old parsi women, fat men and women trying to burn body fat. So we decided to walk round the park too. It was too tempting for me, and so I took out my sandals and walked bare feet. I was also trying to see how Artee would react to it. I also wanted to encourage her to walk like that. But she didnt. Then she said, lets walk on the grass. The grass was wet, and I could feel it. It was more fun walking on grass bare feet. I then told her what Abey George told me some months back. I told her, we hardly get a chance to touch soil in our lives. Most of the time we touch concrete or plastic or rubber, but no soil. After this, she too took off her shoes and socks and walked bare feet. I don't know how she felt, but I was really happy to see her 'break free' (in my terms).
We reached back at the hospital by 8pm. Then I had dinner. And then by 9.30pm I decided to leave for Vashi. My mausaji and mausiji there were getting worried. They didnt think much of the idea of me traveling late in the night. I took a bus from R.C church for CST. And then a local train at 10.20pm for Vashi. I reached home at Vashi by 11.30pm. I was glad to see Mausiji and Mausaji. I kind of felt free also. Took off my clothes, with just my chaddi on. I was at home now, kaisi sharam.
Saturday, November 1, 2008
Just aise hi.....
I wrote this letter to a friend, which came out well in the end. And so I thought to post it on the blog too.
Heylos,
Im sitting here wondering what to do. and so i decided to do what i like most, write. just aise hi.....no agenda at all.
let me tell u in detail about my mumbai trip.
day1
i got up at 4.30am. the train was standing at dadar station. it looked so much familiar to me. probably the 4th time i had taken this train to get to dadar at this time of the day. but this time, i was going further. i was to get down at cst (or vt, as most people still call it). reached cst at 5 sharp. got out of the station and asked a person which bus would go to afgan church. he showed me the bus stop from where i will get the bus. there were no buses at that time of the day, but there were taxis. shared taxis calling for navy nagar. they would take just Rs.10 to drop me at afgan church. But then i thought this is too early to go. People wud be sleeping and i wud unnecessarily wake them up. I decided to just wait at the bus stop till day break.
there was another person standing at the bus stop. just the two of us. at first the person looked a guy. short hair, dressed like men, sport shoes. But a more closer look told me she was infact a gal. I love gals who wear sport shoes, and so that brought me a smile on my face. I dont know why, but she resembled artee to me. I had not seen her for some years now. Didnt really know how she looked. and this gal was in some way resembling her. But then if she was artee, she would have recognized me for sure. or is it that I too have changed? The latest pic she saw of me was with beard. This time I had no beard. I kept thinking all this while standing there. she too just stood there at the bus stop. so what was this gal doing so early in the morning? did she come this early to avoid the crowd in local train, or does she like me enjoy the early morning? and why is she waiting at the bus stop? take a cab and go where ever she wants to. maybe she too likes to just sit and watch people come and go.
then from nowhere a little cat came. meow meow!! stood next to me and more of meow meow!! then came two sweepers, who started cleaning the pathway. and then came out the sun. it was day break. good enough time to wake people up even if they are sleeping. and then came my bus. It was route number 125. It was headed to navy nagar, and afgan church was to fall en route. the bus was was Rs.5.
I reached afgan church in less than 10 min. it was the cantonment area. I had never seen Mumbai so green. And i could smell fish. The sea must be really close, I wondered. I called up artee from there. As expected, the lazy bum was sleeping. Good i waited for an hour, I thought. She directed me to walk back on the road, and then take a left before a big tree. I saw the big tree and started walking towards it. For some reason, I saw this army guard standing and I asked him for directions to II granadiers mess. This guy was from Haryana. Just listening to our style of Hindi made me feel so happy. It has been sometime since I heard that accent. And to hear it in a completely unexpected place is so much more fun. Anyways, this chap asked me to just walk straight and not turn anywhere (unlike artee's direction, where I had to turn left). so I just walked straight. And I walked out of the cantt area. I realized, my sis was more intelligent than this chap, and I should have listened to her. So I turned back. I started walking back to that big tree I had left behind. I saw this car coming towards me, really slowly. And just as it approached me, "BEEP! BEEP!", full blast horn. "Arre maine kya kiya, main to side mein hi chal raha tha. the whole road is empty". Must be a lady on the wheel I thought. And I was right. It was Artee. she had come to pick me up. I got in the car. It had been years since we last met. Before I could start yelling on the loud horn thing, she started " I asked u to turn left from big tree....seedha kyun gaya....boom boom!! dhishum dhishum!! rat tat tat!!.....non stop machine gun fire.....ufff!! yeh ladkiya subah subah bhi kitna bol leti hai....
we got back into the mess. and there was mausi ji waiting for us. I touched her feet, and she blessed me with her best wishes. for the next few hours (and then later for next 4 days), Artee's machine gun never stopped. And my ammunition never took off. soon, along with words, she also started throwing things at me. at first the pillow, then deodrant bottles, then whatever she could her hand onto. She had changed. As a kid, she was suppose to be this quiet little gal, who wud never speak, just nod in yes or no or just give a short and quick smile. "kya pagal ho gayi hai kya yeh?", I asked mausiji.
next we went to the naval hospital where mausaji had been admitted. its called the ashvini hospital. its suppose to be one of the two major military hospital in India, the other being R&R hospital in Delhi. It was right at the sea. I have never seen such a clean sea in Mumbai. Its how a sea is suppose to be. There were ships anchored at a distance. The morning sun was beaming down on the waters. This part of the sea, lies of the eastern side of Mumbai. So the reflection of the morning sun was something most Mumbaikars dont get a chance to see. The reflection from the water was so intense, it seemed like driving in front of a high beam truck on the highway, where one doesnt see anything but light. Later I realized there was a light house in the see, which I couldn't see due to this glare.
I met mausaji and Tuhina bhabhi. Mausaji had gone really weak. Had never seen him like this before. He was on bed rest for over a month now. Tuhina bhabhi probably didnt recognize me. The only time we had met earlier was some years back in Meerut. At that time there were too many people, and she could have easily missed me there. This was in a sense our first one on one meeting.
The whole day I spent at the hospital. I was all quiet, and just observing things, people, buildings. The army, had always attracted me as a kid. I was fascinated but almost everything about the forces, their uniform, their hair cut, the way they walked, the way they talked, they stood. All those things had moved me, inspired me for many years. But not this time. It all looked so alien to me this time. It was the first strong indication I got in some years, that I have changed as a person. Something which I was passionate about, something which moved me even in dreams, seemed so ordinary this time. I just could not relate to it anymore. I was surprised to notice this in me. I kept thinking about this thing in the whole of trip.
At the end of day 1, I decided to stay back there for the night. We ordered an extra mattress from the mess and I slept there only.
Heylos,
Im sitting here wondering what to do. and so i decided to do what i like most, write. just aise hi.....no agenda at all.
let me tell u in detail about my mumbai trip.
day1
i got up at 4.30am. the train was standing at dadar station. it looked so much familiar to me. probably the 4th time i had taken this train to get to dadar at this time of the day. but this time, i was going further. i was to get down at cst (or vt, as most people still call it). reached cst at 5 sharp. got out of the station and asked a person which bus would go to afgan church. he showed me the bus stop from where i will get the bus. there were no buses at that time of the day, but there were taxis. shared taxis calling for navy nagar. they would take just Rs.10 to drop me at afgan church. But then i thought this is too early to go. People wud be sleeping and i wud unnecessarily wake them up. I decided to just wait at the bus stop till day break.
there was another person standing at the bus stop. just the two of us. at first the person looked a guy. short hair, dressed like men, sport shoes. But a more closer look told me she was infact a gal. I love gals who wear sport shoes, and so that brought me a smile on my face. I dont know why, but she resembled artee to me. I had not seen her for some years now. Didnt really know how she looked. and this gal was in some way resembling her. But then if she was artee, she would have recognized me for sure. or is it that I too have changed? The latest pic she saw of me was with beard. This time I had no beard. I kept thinking all this while standing there. she too just stood there at the bus stop. so what was this gal doing so early in the morning? did she come this early to avoid the crowd in local train, or does she like me enjoy the early morning? and why is she waiting at the bus stop? take a cab and go where ever she wants to. maybe she too likes to just sit and watch people come and go.
then from nowhere a little cat came. meow meow!! stood next to me and more of meow meow!! then came two sweepers, who started cleaning the pathway. and then came out the sun. it was day break. good enough time to wake people up even if they are sleeping. and then came my bus. It was route number 125. It was headed to navy nagar, and afgan church was to fall en route. the bus was was Rs.5.
I reached afgan church in less than 10 min. it was the cantonment area. I had never seen Mumbai so green. And i could smell fish. The sea must be really close, I wondered. I called up artee from there. As expected, the lazy bum was sleeping. Good i waited for an hour, I thought. She directed me to walk back on the road, and then take a left before a big tree. I saw the big tree and started walking towards it. For some reason, I saw this army guard standing and I asked him for directions to II granadiers mess. This guy was from Haryana. Just listening to our style of Hindi made me feel so happy. It has been sometime since I heard that accent. And to hear it in a completely unexpected place is so much more fun. Anyways, this chap asked me to just walk straight and not turn anywhere (unlike artee's direction, where I had to turn left). so I just walked straight. And I walked out of the cantt area. I realized, my sis was more intelligent than this chap, and I should have listened to her. So I turned back. I started walking back to that big tree I had left behind. I saw this car coming towards me, really slowly. And just as it approached me, "BEEP! BEEP!", full blast horn. "Arre maine kya kiya, main to side mein hi chal raha tha. the whole road is empty". Must be a lady on the wheel I thought. And I was right. It was Artee. she had come to pick me up. I got in the car. It had been years since we last met. Before I could start yelling on the loud horn thing, she started " I asked u to turn left from big tree....seedha kyun gaya....boom boom!! dhishum dhishum!! rat tat tat!!.....non stop machine gun fire.....ufff!! yeh ladkiya subah subah bhi kitna bol leti hai....
we got back into the mess. and there was mausi ji waiting for us. I touched her feet, and she blessed me with her best wishes. for the next few hours (and then later for next 4 days), Artee's machine gun never stopped. And my ammunition never took off. soon, along with words, she also started throwing things at me. at first the pillow, then deodrant bottles, then whatever she could her hand onto. She had changed. As a kid, she was suppose to be this quiet little gal, who wud never speak, just nod in yes or no or just give a short and quick smile. "kya pagal ho gayi hai kya yeh?", I asked mausiji.
next we went to the naval hospital where mausaji had been admitted. its called the ashvini hospital. its suppose to be one of the two major military hospital in India, the other being R&R hospital in Delhi. It was right at the sea. I have never seen such a clean sea in Mumbai. Its how a sea is suppose to be. There were ships anchored at a distance. The morning sun was beaming down on the waters. This part of the sea, lies of the eastern side of Mumbai. So the reflection of the morning sun was something most Mumbaikars dont get a chance to see. The reflection from the water was so intense, it seemed like driving in front of a high beam truck on the highway, where one doesnt see anything but light. Later I realized there was a light house in the see, which I couldn't see due to this glare.
I met mausaji and Tuhina bhabhi. Mausaji had gone really weak. Had never seen him like this before. He was on bed rest for over a month now. Tuhina bhabhi probably didnt recognize me. The only time we had met earlier was some years back in Meerut. At that time there were too many people, and she could have easily missed me there. This was in a sense our first one on one meeting.
The whole day I spent at the hospital. I was all quiet, and just observing things, people, buildings. The army, had always attracted me as a kid. I was fascinated but almost everything about the forces, their uniform, their hair cut, the way they walked, the way they talked, they stood. All those things had moved me, inspired me for many years. But not this time. It all looked so alien to me this time. It was the first strong indication I got in some years, that I have changed as a person. Something which I was passionate about, something which moved me even in dreams, seemed so ordinary this time. I just could not relate to it anymore. I was surprised to notice this in me. I kept thinking about this thing in the whole of trip.
At the end of day 1, I decided to stay back there for the night. We ordered an extra mattress from the mess and I slept there only.
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