May diary...Life....lost, found and treasured
It was all planned...all set.....May end ...15 days at home with ma.
But life is destined to be unpredictable.
Its calm , it is equally stormy, it is hope of mornings, it is sadness of sunsets, it is adventurous, it is very rocky, it is the soft whisper of winds, it is the chirping of birds...
6th of May, am in Delhi among the same old chitchats gossips and fun in the world of tv, news, politics etc etc.
and there you go 2 days am in land of glamour and limelight the age old city Bombay...as I still call it. Mumbai is still too political for me.
Bombay as dad had always described after his yearly trips. And now whenever am in that city I compare my observations with his.
This year when dad is not there to share our experiences, am not missing even a panwala at the corner to observe his attitude.
Fiats are going extinct...once the identity of town....still the culture is same the way the taxiwalas maintain the cabs is just commendable. the meters in autos and taxis.
The traffic and road mannerism was missing, which was always a highlight of the city unlike anyother place in India.
And then comes an entertainment channel trying hands on in the world of NEWS...journalism.
Quite a heroic thing in today's competition.
My day began at 6 in the morning and ended almost at 10 at night. struggling to get things in place.
Setting up news graphics automation. Sounds boring to this blog.
Amidst this chaos and hardwork times was the plus point of the location...Worli....next to the scenic Seaface...and the peaceful sufi music of Haji Ali.
I always wanted to visit the shrine.
The nights when you can fall in love with life. Sitting on one of those benches across the sea face. Moon in its full swing playing with clouds.
You can hear the waves the winds, the sparkling lights of the ships across the sea. And on the left the bridge and the cars and theirs moving lights.
The kids giggling and running across, people jogging, oldies walking or relaxing after dinner. Everyone comes here some for laughing some for relaxing some for memories.
A friend told me "if you are sitting near water you go into memories"....good and bad memories. So true, you can just sit here quietly and sing and smile and be happy. recall the good memories and forget the bad ones. Life is so romantic, live it, love it. It has so much to give.
And then again next morning the day of counting, India's biggest reality show of "Kaun banega Pradhan Mantri?"
That 5,30 am tea across the road....perfect my kinda chai! less sugar, strong tea leaves....just wakes you up, full of energy!!!
And here comes the evening....Main...oops Hum (we Indians) Sarkar le aye...results are out...all records broken ....complete sweep by BJP!
Time to go home!!!
home sweet home
Till now when we were feeling the identity crisis despite being born and brought up in Capital, now we have a house, our home. The year has slipped like sand, a life has slipped with it and we still don't know how.
Papa is not there any more to see this house, to place his paintings, the sculptures.
But Ma is there to set up everything.
And again am sitting next to water, the river Ganga. and the memories of all the trips to this river. Its cool water makes you get relieved of all the pains it seems, may be that's why we come here for after life rituals.
One is dead, he/she is free of all the pains of this mrityulok.
Sitting on the steps of Ganga in the scorching sun and doing rituals is a courage to start again. And just look at this man standing in the centre of the furiously flowing Ganga.
The Coin Collector.
Imagine his life when with every dip he finds hundreds of rocks from the river bed and with them a coin or two. That's his bread and butter. He is the biggest inspiration in this world to survive. Our pain is nothing.
Every dip is a new hope, every day is a new day.... a new beginning!
But life is destined to be unpredictable.
6th of May, am in Delhi among the same old chitchats gossips and fun in the world of tv, news, politics etc etc.
and there you go 2 days am in land of glamour and limelight the age old city Bombay...as I still call it. Mumbai is still too political for me.
Bombay as dad had always described after his yearly trips. And now whenever am in that city I compare my observations with his.
This year when dad is not there to share our experiences, am not missing even a panwala at the corner to observe his attitude.
Fiats are going extinct...once the identity of town....still the culture is same the way the taxiwalas maintain the cabs is just commendable. the meters in autos and taxis.
The traffic and road mannerism was missing, which was always a highlight of the city unlike anyother place in India.
And then comes an entertainment channel trying hands on in the world of NEWS...journalism.
Quite a heroic thing in today's competition.
Setting up news graphics automation. Sounds boring to this blog.
Amidst this chaos and hardwork times was the plus point of the location...Worli....next to the scenic Seaface...and the peaceful sufi music of Haji Ali.
The nights when you can fall in love with life. Sitting on one of those benches across the sea face. Moon in its full swing playing with clouds.
You can hear the waves the winds, the sparkling lights of the ships across the sea. And on the left the bridge and the cars and theirs moving lights.
And then again next morning the day of counting, India's biggest reality show of "Kaun banega Pradhan Mantri?"
And here comes the evening....Main...oops Hum (we Indians) Sarkar le aye...results are out...all records broken ....complete sweep by BJP!
Time to go home!!!
home sweet home
Till now when we were feeling the identity crisis despite being born and brought up in Capital, now we have a house, our home. The year has slipped like sand, a life has slipped with it and we still don't know how.
Papa is not there any more to see this house, to place his paintings, the sculptures.
And again am sitting next to water, the river Ganga. and the memories of all the trips to this river. Its cool water makes you get relieved of all the pains it seems, may be that's why we come here for after life rituals.
One is dead, he/she is free of all the pains of this mrityulok.
The Coin Collector.
Imagine his life when with every dip he finds hundreds of rocks from the river bed and with them a coin or two. That's his bread and butter. He is the biggest inspiration in this world to survive. Our pain is nothing.
Every dip is a new hope, every day is a new day.... a new beginning!
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