Memories from my daily routine of having a blast in Mumbai while with friends:
Maharaj (my friend Kinjal's cook of 15 yrs) making theplas effortlessly, perfectly.. every single 6" circle one after the other... rolling, dusting with flour, rolling, roasting, basting with ghee, flipping over, basting with ghee.. his hands fly over the the stove in perfect motion every time, not missing a beat, not breaking into a sweat .... eating those hot theplas that morning, eyes closed, taste buds alive, my olfactory nerves humming,vibrating with the aroma wafting through..... pure heaven!!!
A woman, maybe 20yrs or so, on the streets of Colaba with a small child on her hip, streching her arms out wordlessly, hope and plea in her eyes, listlessness in the child's eyes, snort dripping down its nose.... I've been around beggars all my life.. young, old, healthy, crippled, female, male, fake, genuine..... I can't say why this lady affected me so, why the kid yanked at my heart so... I left the scene having bought her an afternoon meal, felling I'd at least taken care of her immediate need, but also almost feeling helpless at the situation of these people on the whole.... where will it stop, when will it end.... where do my priorities lie I wonder at times... after all wasn't I shopping around for a pair of shoes ( albeit for my friend's wedding)... I walked away not buying any.. surely I could use one of the many pairs I had.... I feel quite shitty..ahhhh pure hell!!!
My conversation with Kin's dad about following dreams... walking a unique individual path.. living life for oneself... about staying strong, dreaming big, staying true to one's self... .. I remember dad, an image of him zipping through my mind, gone quickly but leaving me breathless with a searing pain in my chest.. I miss him.. it's like an instant feeling of pain, loss, love... I have no control over the tears that stream down my face...hell I say!!!
An evening out with friends.. at a local lounge ... packed with herds of human beings.. no breathing space.. fantastic music thumping.. mostly classic rock on the level 1 of the lounge.... there is hip-hop on the 2nd level, but we stick to the first. A lady in a cotton sari swaying to the music.. conversation is alive with all trying to guess her intention... Is she is making a statement, is she craving attention or is she asserting her freedom of choice? .. .. tons of theories flying around... the herd gazes in her direction, some snickering some admiring, some indifferent... I wonder what if she wasn't trying to do anything at all.... we judge quite easily don't we?.. and why the need to slot everyone's actions into neat little explained behavior all the time? I have no answers..
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2 comments:
Did your conversation with your friends Dad, include 'Alchemist' by Paulo Cohelo ? I know a bit cheesy :-)
We can't manage our people, our city and our country and we talk about conquering the world and exploring Space?
But its very nice of you to buy the meal for the child!
It isn't one bit cheesy... I love the 'Alchemist'... but no.. our conversation din't include the book... though might as well eh?
Its a crazy world... where do you begin to draw the line between survival, existance, self-centeredness, selfishness? It's a matter of what our motivation is to be selfless or serve others.... I pray 'personal satisfaction' and 'sense of purpose' keep me motivated for long....
weather my efforts makes a difference?... hard to tell, esp in a country like ours...
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