wonder what was the story behind !!

it was an usual morning. over crowded airoli-borivali bus number 123. smell of ocean's rotten water mixed with smell of sweat of people occupying the minimum space required for their shapes. bus conductor very comfortably making space for himself in between nearly impossible gaps. all these were so incredible yet so ordinary in a person's life who is a regular commuter of BEST buses in the city of Mumbai. 

headphones stuck almost touching my eardrums, D K Bose song playing in loop to the maximum capacity in cellphone, i was on my way to the office. every now and then throwing a glance on my cheapest fast-track watch, not to see the time but to think of a new excuse to give on the question 'why are you late today? again!' i myself was pissed on the same old truth of traffic conditions, day by day worsening to the limits.

lady beside me stood up and three of them standing on the aisle blocked the way not to stop her but to occupy the seat. somehow she walked out and disappeared in the crowd, i was forced to slide towards the window so that people struggling to find the seat could sit, at least one of them.
seat was not empty, there was a book. title 'what the hell'. i myself was a reader but never had heard of this book, well no one could possibly know all the books, specially if they are published to compete with the growth of mushrooms. i picked it up and unplugged my earphones to concentrate more on the book.
first page:

it was handwritten. 'To the only person who is the inspiration behind this book, its not a book, its our story'
quite clear the book was a gift from the author himself. There was a line, again hand written in a different handwriting.

'leaving this in a crowded bus, no one will ever know that the book was written on me, for me. I am sorry'
i realized that the lady was in fact not reading but writing on the first page of the book. bus was already moving, she was already gone. last stop which crossed was kandivali. i was still there, holding the book in my hand, wondering what might be the story behind it...!!   

Mumbai !!

It has been more than two years now I have left the place, but it seems that it was just yesterday I was traveling in an overcrowded BEST bus struggling to get to the door, pushing everyone aside while my stop arrives, many a times I had missed the stop and had to get down at the next one and walk back.

It’s not that I was born and brought up in Mumbai, but yes I have been visiting it every year for my whole life, it was called Bombay back then. And when I joined college here, the city took me as if I was never an outsider; I was treated as its own. All those years of college and then a year of job made me a mumbaikar by heart and whenever I got a chance I travelled to the city.

But now, sitting in New Jersey, when someone asked today if I would like to settle down in Mumbai, my answer was ‘I don’t know’. I never thought of it. Heart was always in dilemma, whether I liked the city or I did not. Once a mumbaikar, always a mumbaikar, I used to hear this a lot in Mumbai. May be dilemma was the result of this saying.

The city definitely is different from others. It has its own aura. As soon as you enter the city, you can feel a blow of hot wind; your lungs will tell you that you started inhaling air which is heavier than outside the city air. It is so damn humid that your skin becomes advertisement of fevistick, extremely sticky. If you have never been to Mumbai, it will be difficult for you to believe this, but yes there is a particular smell of the air. Only place where the air itself has its own smell. A true mumbaikar can always identify the smell. Good or bad depends on many things, like how late you are for your office or how long you are stuck in the traffic while going back home or how you have run through a red signal and no traffic police has caught you.

I always wondered why my friends looked darker in the pictures they posted from the Gateway of India. But then I got to know the reason, they travelled on bike and the complexion was just a layer of carbon.  But then you are at Gateway so it doesn’t matter how much carbon is on your face and how much in your lungs.  You forget all those as soon as a huge waves from the sea hits the wall, you just feel like heaven. A ride on ferry to elephanta, especially if you are on the open deck, anyone hardly forgets.

One of my friends recently visited Girgaon Chawpaty with her husband and was telling about the romantic water fight between them. I was not able to control my laugh and said I have seen people pissing, vomiting and spitting on the same Girgaon chawpaty and not even that, every morning, nearby people use it as free public toilet. She said I will call you later, going for a bath. Well, so it happens.

You can see people running to get in the local train before the train has even hit the platform, so that they can get a window seat and catch up on their sleep. You can always hear lot of people shouting the same thing when the train stops, ‘let the people get down first’. A human wave gets out and other human wave gets in. leaving few inside, who wanted to get out and leaving few outside who wanted to get in. God forbid if you are traveling in peak hours, trains are so packed that your legs are not properly on ground, but you still find yourself standing, you feel someone trying to pick out your wallet but you cannot even move your ass to avoid it. But still millions of people board it and they don’t even complain about it. They say, if you have survived in Mumbai local trains, you can survive anywhere, I believe it.

From a sweating panipuriwala, whose sweat is an integral part of the panipuri, to a millionaire in an AC luxurious car, all you can find on the same signal. And surprisingly there would be more who will know the panipuriwala by his name, maybe the millionaire too. This is how it works. All are accepted, all are accumulated, like sugar in milk. But then if you look closely, none of them are selfless. They all are driven only by one thing, Money.

I am not saying that outside Mumbai people do not get driven by Money, they do, but in Mumbai it’s different. Money has taken place of God, highest priority in their life. An average Mumbaikar has stopped thinking beyond Money. Their only thought is how to earn money, more and more, and in the process they are slowly forgetting how to live. They are running so fast that they forgot they have left something behind, themselves.

Mumbai, in spite of its lack of emotions, its mechanical life, its money mindedness, its huge gap between poverty and luxury, its overcrowded population, its dangerously increasing temperature and pollution and many more its….I still find it attractive, and whenever someone asks about it, I say, ‘there is something about Mumbai…’

Mom's sense of humor !!

I never thought of that, but after so many years have passed and when I look back to my childhood or she herself tells me how she taught me to do something, I realize that my mother has a great sense of humor.

‘If you don’t get up from the floor and I can’t see you sitting on the sofa, then be sure that I am going to make you wash your brother’s butt, once he is done and believe me its time for him to answer natures call’ what else option was left for me, after this, one could see me sitting on the sofa and my mother could be found laughing.

Like all others, even I was having fear for injections, but she always knew the trick to make me go to hospital without any trouble. ‘There will be a hole and I bet you will not be able to find it’ she will tell me while entering the hospital. ‘Oh forget it mom, I have the best eyes in the whole class’ I will reply proudly. ‘So where is hole?’ I will ask then she will say ‘they are going to make in your back’ and I will be like ‘holy shiiii….cow’, but it is already too late and while coming back, I will be searching for the hole that they made in my left butt. She will say laughing ‘Game over’

‘Let’s see how long you can keep your mouth open’ she will sit in front of me and I will be like you don’t know me yet, I never lose any bet, mouth open to extreme. She will start brushing my teeth. ‘This is cheating’ I used to shout. ‘This is hard level game; you have to face these hurdles’ ‘huh?’ ‘You need practice, try yourself, then I will test your strength’ I am already in the trap and she will look from far, I am busy brushing my teeth, well nice trap mother.

She will be standing on the gate when the school bus comes to pick me up and she will ask ‘what will you do when the girl next to you is crying because she has not done her homework?’ and I will be like, ‘I will offer her….oops I forgot the hanky’ I will run back to her and she will put it in my pocket. Believe me, I never forget to have a hanky with me, you never know when the girl next to you might cry, wink.

‘So you are not getting sleep?’ ‘No mom’ ‘okay then let’s play the game of finding the hole’ ‘damn, I am feeling so much sleepy’ she will kiss my forehead and laugh.  

'What if you forget your girlfriend's birthday?' she called me and said. 'I know, happy mother's day mom...' i replied with a guilt of not calling her before her call. 'did i mentioned that?' she said, i know she was smiling. 'Mom, i know you from more than twenty six years now' she laughed again, a laugh worth a life.

Hats off to you, mom, I never got to know from where you got this sense of humor, but for sure I have definitely got this from you. You are a complete university for me, happy mother’s day, year and life…

       

Stop laughing !!

What have you achieved? Have you ever given a thought on this? What is our motive in life? Just going office, doing some crap work, coming home and watching TV, is that all the purpose of our souls? Think of it? You have not been given a life just to waste here; we have been given this life to do something, to achieve something. Wake up you all, find something, invent, discover. This is what, Man is…

And he stopped in between. My heart skipped a beat as he glared straight in my direction. I looked my right in hope that he was staring my bench mate, all hope died. On a positive note I turned left to see if at all he is staring the one sitting my left. Bingo, poor guy had raised his hand. What? I shouted in my mind, ‘raised his hand?’ I immediately turned to my right and asked, ‘what’s wrong?’ ‘I told him not to taste the ‘Old Monk’ which my uncle bought and was kept in the fridge’ he explained. I bit my lips, stuck my nails in my arm, and pressed my left toe with right leg just to stop myself bursting into laugh. Unfortunately, along with being bench mates here,  we all were roommates too and his uncle was an army man, just came to visit him and the rum was not for us but was kept there only to get chilled. ‘Whoa, we are dead now, that too in an auditorium full of staring eyes’ I thought.

It was my idea to attend this motivational interacting session, I knew all three of us needed some real motivation, also something to pass time on a boring weekend and the best part was that it was free of cost…real motivation behind it.

‘Yes my son, what is your doubt’ the speaker said almost kissing the microphone. I saw a volunteer running towards us holding a mike in hand. He handed over the mike to him and sat near the stairs. I bumped my head and asked my other friend to close his mouth; he closed and said, ‘I hate my uncle’. I repeated the procedure which helps in stopping the laugh.

‘There is no doubt at all, I just wanted to share with all that I am not like rest of you here. I am special. I have found something and I have discovered something’ I was able to see hundreds of eyes on him already, curious enough to peek out from the skull, just waiting for the achievement, our underachiever roommate has achieved.

After a pause of unbarring few seconds, he started again, ‘I have invented something which can make you look through a wall…’ my mouth went open, I turned to the right, ‘he never told us something of this kind’ instead of giving an answer he just bumped his head and murmured, ‘he got this forwarded message in the morning, we are dead’

Meanwhile the speaker asked ‘and what is that invention my child?’ ‘Window’ was the reply.

All attempt to stop myself laughing, failed and next moment we all were standing on the street, no prizes for the write answer, we were thrown out of the auditorium. Next moment two of them were standing face to face, staring each other, I was still struggling to control my laugh.

‘What did I do? Anyway the lecture was quite boring’ he said, I was laughing like hell, telling myself to stop laughing…

oh my lord, i died!!

Spitting here and there is a bad habit. If you have not heard it from your parents, you must be quite a dumb child I guess. Anyway, I have heard it a lot, not only from my parents but from the neighbors too, specially whenever I stood in the balcony, they were just disgusting, as soon as they see me, they shouted, ‘dare you spat from there’ I just thought what their problem was? Do they want me to come down and spit? Why in god’s name they wanted that? Leave it.

Well, it all started when I came Mumbai, to spend my summer holidays with my nana-nani, of course there was my mama too staying in the same house but I don’t know why he was never mentioned by anyone, they will just say, ‘oh! Going to stay with nana-nani? Huh?’ poor mamaji. It was just another day, I was standing in the balcony to see if I can find someone to play with, ours is the flat at second floor in a seven story building, unfortunately no one for last ten or so minutes. Alas! I was the only company to myself and it was high time that I start looking for something which may pass my much precious time, which was running like hell (I guess Hell never runs, it is just a way of giving some weight to the sentence, unfortunately sentences also do not have any weight, leave it)

Meanwhile my eyes got stuck on a frog, which was not moving at all, see my eagle eyes, no no I was not going down to know whether it was dead or alive. There are more methods to find it out, any guesses? Well you are right, just spit on it, if it runs, bravo, if not, again bravo at least you can challenge that stupid, the one who stays in next apartment and claims that he can spit on anything he aims.

Now it was time for the real test. I imagined a cup of chocolate ice cream and next moment my mouth started watering, how can one shoot without bullets, you know? I came little ahead, holding the balcony grill tightly, even I fear of falling from it and what were you thinking? Anyway, making my head steady just inline to the frog, closing the left eye, clearly seeing my target like Arjuna, and puccchhhhhh, I dropped the bomb.  ‘Oh! It almost touched it’ I shouted in my mind, that was a failure, but the close call encouraged me, I am not a looser, I will try till I will end this, I remember the eighth chapter in my book, the story of the spider which tried for 17 times before it was able to climb the wall, in my case it was only one, still sixteen chances are left.  

Chocolate ice-cream seemed unlucky, so how about a hot samosa with sauce, my mouth got flooded, and again I was ready for the shootout. Same posture, head little tilted to left, hands and legs firm, target locked from one eye, I was just about to pull the trigger and some shouted from inside the house,

‘Come here beta, say bye to aunty, she is leaving’ mamaji said to me, I know it was just a showoff in front of her girlfriend (he will not agree and shout that she is just a friend). He wanted her to know that he love children too, a point on which girls will get impressed, liar mamaji, he also inturrepted my mission.  

Anyway, after she left pulling my cheeks, I was back with a new energy (not because she pulled my cheek, but because I took a break, I just thought of clarifying). Image of samosa was still fresh in my mind and the whole bombing system was well prepared. I crunched my fingers and made myself in the position, with full confidence of hitting the target, I dropped the bomb, oh my god, oh my holy god, I immediately swung my hands to catch hold of the bullet, but gravitational force won the fight and I helplessly saw it falling on someone’s head and someone was none other than my mamaji’s girlfriend (now I wanted her to be just a friend of him), I gulped the bombs which were remaining in my mouth and slowly said, ‘oh my lord, save me’. I wanted to say ‘hey ram’ but I don’t like the old man very much, so just a normal sentence. There was no strength left in me to get a glimpse whether she was still standing there. I heard the doorbell ring and next moment mamaji was standing in front of me and she was standing behind him, holding few tissue papers.

I tilted my head towards her and asked ‘did you crush the poor frog? Then I realized something and slowly said again, ‘oh my lord, I died’…

I remember the bus stop !!

We all were sitting on the college stairs when she came to me and said, ‘can I borrow your physics note for today? I will return you in the evening’ I dragged out my notes handing over to her saying ‘sure’.

‘What time you will be reaching home?’ she asked. ‘Around 6’ I replied. ‘Ok then I will meet you at the society gate at 6 and will return you the file there.’ She said and walked away. Well, she also stays in the same society where I stay so it was no issue. But as I turn towards, there was an issue, my gang; they all were continuously staring to me. ‘What?’ I asked.

‘You never told that you knew her’

‘She stays in the next building’

‘And you are telling this now’

‘She is just a hi-hello friend’ I said and the topic was over there and then. She was not the most beautiful girl in the college but yes she did belong to the category of beautiful ones. It was the last lecture and more than me, my friends remembered that I had to take my physics notes back no matter what. After the lecture we picked our bags and started walking towards the bus stop. It was already 5:30, but Mumbai transport is quite good, you can get a bus in every fifteen minutes, so I was not worried. But my friends were worried, they all stood beside me on the bus stop. No one of them catches bus from this bus stop but still they were there to help me catching my bus. Finally I saw bus number 356 coming, I said to them; ‘now you people can leave’ they just smiled. Bus came and stood in front of me. I found myself stuck not able to move, they all held me until the bus was gone, followed by huge laugh from them and cussing from me. Every time a bus was coming they were not letting me go. It happened thrice. I cursed the moment she came to me, while these devils were around and I cursed the moments when I also did the same with others. Now the only way was to fool them around. I thought to catch any random bus and change the bus from next stop. It worked; as soon as the next bus came I just jumped inside. Next moment I was in the bus and they on the bus stop,

‘ladki mil gai doston ko bhul gaya’ (you got a girl, now why will you remember friends), they shouted.

I knew it was emotional blackmailing but friends are friends, I started walking towards the door.

‘Hey go go, just don’t put your hand out of the window, we just care, you know’ they shouted again and started laughing. I saw people in the bus smiling on this. I also smiled and saw them till the bus took a turn. Now after five years I don’t remember what I talked to the girl, but remember my friends saying, ‘don’t put your hand out of the window’ and I remember the spot we used to hang out hours of hours, the bus stop…