its me!!

The  narrow roads of Mumbai were narrowed down further by the congregation which was going to immerse Ma Durga  into the sea. I could see nothing but human heads, hear nothing but the medley of tunes, loud and crass, smell nothing but the mix of  gulal  and fumes, feel nothing but sweat on my brow, and taste nothing but bitterness, when I noticed a man fervidly helping people to make their way through this madness. He smiled at me. I wondered why Mumbai is considered the rudest city on earth. I smiled back – feeling – everyone is welcome in Mumbai, at his own risk. * This article was   included in the anthology on writers and their inspiration, The "I" Word.

Do you have an INR 20 note? On the reverse side of Gandhiji, do you see a Light house, a hill and a beach? The name of the hill is Mount Harriet, the name of the beach is North Bay Beach and they are located in Andaman, which I visited and fell madly in love with the place and its people.  There are few direct flights to Port Blair. Mine was a connecting flight from Mumbai to Chennai and then to Port Blair. My friend, who was accompanying me, joined me directly at Port Blair. Flight from Chennai to Port Blair was almost uneventful, except that for the first time I was surrounded by only madrasis (South Indians). They spoke in a language which was, well… madrasi to me. “If you board a flight from Ahmedabad to Mumbai, it feels as if you have arrived in Gujarat itself. The moment the flight moves, everyone starts talking to everyone else. The tiffins start to open, and you are engulfed by the smell of khakhra, fafda and other Gujarati dishes”, someone once told me. Th...

“Are you from Mumbai?” “Yes”, I said. “We have seen you so many times. Every time we see you, it is like – ‘OK so we see him again.’” He looked impressed with me. I was wearing a biker’s jacket, boots and despite my spectacles, the bandana did the trick. Or so I believe. I smiled at his statement. “So you drove your bike all the way from Mumbai? This is impressive.” Guhagar was my first “proper” bike trip. Before this I had a few but Guhagar trip was the first conscious trip that I made. Plus it was close to 300 km, and I was the solo rider. The bike trip had more elements than were apparent. I was going there on the New Year. There were varied reactions from people whom I told about it. “Wow! It will be great.” “Really! You sure? 300 km is too risky, that too on a highway on bike.” “It does sound exciting though riding alone for such a distance is little unsafe, don’t you think so?” “What’s party scene at Guhagar?” I had many reasons to travel. First, and the ...

This is in response to  An Open Letter to India’s Graduating Classes that was published in NYTimes India. Dear Indian Employers This is your new/current employee. We are MBAs, Engineers, B.Com’s and everything between them. We take the salary that you give and keep fighting to understand the peanut-ness of that. Many of us have landed on our first job, discussions around salaries and job titles are over, and we’re ready to contribute. Life is good – except that it’s not. Not for us, your employees, at least. Most of your assignments will be substandard, clerical, frustrating, white lies and with limited application of our skills. We too need to gear ourselves up for broken promises and unmet expectations. Today we regret to inform you that you are spoiled. You are spoiled by the “India growth story”; by an assumption that the Indian Education system is capable of producing talent that you companies will continue to exploit; that the growth will continue in doub...

You get up the next morning (or afternoon) with no memories of the last night, or a bad headache, or both. You frantically search for your mobile phone as the memories return, and look at the ‘Sent Items’. After that you vow never to face her again. You get too liberal, and want to pay for all your friends. The friends don’t stop you. The next morning you vow never to take your wallet to the next party. You broke down your yearly resolution into more achievable monthly resolutions. The first one is to abstain from drinking and lead a simple, healthy and controlled life. With the monthly resolution gone for a SIX, you are reminded of:  So whoever knows the right thing to do and fails to do it, for him it is sin. [James 4:17 ESV] . You feel like a sinner. You had good relationship with your boss. The next time you meet her, you can’t figure out the reasons for unachievable deadlines and absence of erstwhile smiles. You look at your mobile again – bitterly. Your house is stin...

I am a PT teacher. Students love me. I let them be in my sessions. They feel like birds out of the cages; far from their Hitler-like teachers who are adamant to convert free-thinking humans to money-making asses by smothering them in the gas-chambers, popularly known as classes. When I came to this school, there was no culture of sports. The Principal told me that he wanted to ‘encourage’ it among the students. A committee was set up to find a solution to the problem. It came out with a novel idea which they shared with us in a meeting. The presenter told that Annual Sports Day was the best solution to start the sports-culture. “When do we act? We act only when there is a goal in-front of us”, the presenter spoke with enthusiasm as if he was the Chief Guest for the Independence Day parade. “So after immense efforts that we put in, researching about the psychology of human beings, and children in particular, we have come out with a solution that will motivate the students towards sp...

Sameer used to wake up at 7.00 am every day, did the usual and got ready by 8.00 am. Then he walked to the bus-stop and took a bus to his office. He looked at people and a song started playing in his mind: Kas kar joota, kas kar belt; Khos ke andar apni shirt Manzil ko chali sawari; Kandhon pe zimmedari He never liked the song when he watched the movie, but never understood its repeated occurrence at the same time of the day. His route to the office had an air-port. Every day when he crossed it, a thought flashed in his mind: to get down at the airport and take a flight to any random destination of his choice. “To hell with the office and to hell with the job”, he fantasized. The bus never stopped there. While walking from the bus stop to the office, he looked at the children of the slum-dwellers: playing naked on the street. His love for the Classic English rose up: “O Freedom! Where art thou?” he thought. He wondered why he felt a bitter taste every day at this moment, espe...