Trivial Things

I have got into this new found hobby...photographing trivial/banal/uninteresting things on the streets of Mumbai. I have realised, its real hard work - to make something out of nothing.

Stillness in Chaos

Came across this tired rickshaw puller in deep thought on a busy chandni chowk road.

Ira's first day in IV-C

Ira was concerned if she can get the same class as her friends in IV-C. That was her most important concern for one week before classes began. Unfortunately for her, all her close mates were in IV-B. However, all the close mates' parents felt that IV-C was a better class, since their class teacher was the best. So finally Ira felt good about being in IV-C.

I kept telling her that she is fool to get into all these comparisions because whether its IV-B or IV-C, Maya is going to pester her for studies anyways!!

TAJ!!

This was my first view of the Taj. Taj Mahal.

At the Taj, visitors just go beserk. Everyone just want to picture the monument, nobody is really interested in the history, the sadness that surrounds it.

Taj is like Madhubala and Madhuri Dixit. We watch them for what we see and not what they are.

The importance of Pink Chaddis on Valentine's Day

On quite a few occasions I have smirked at burqa clad Muslim women in India and abroad.

I saw this marwari lady at Taj Mahal's entry gate. I was amazed the way she had hid her face in her 'pallu'(veil). Infact, this pic has been captured after she realised that I was clicking her pic and she desperately tried to see my face but was not keen to lift her pallu. If you look closely, you can observe that she is looking at me from the pallu.

Anyway, I am amazed by the fact that though Hindu traditions are equally regressive as the muslims, especially towards women, many hindus conveniently forget such aspects of our culture when there is a debate on hindu-muslim culture or traditions.

Pramod Muthalik and his goons are no less regressive than the Talibanese who throw acid on school going girls in Afghanistan.

While I am against the excesses done these days in the name of Valentine's Day, beating up women is against the culture of any religion.

The Pink Chaddi campaign - http://thepinkchaddicampaign.blogspot.com/ is a slap on the face of the Muthaliks of the world. Somewhere it makes us aware of the sense of despair, powerlessness and frustration that women (of India) have harboured against (the strong arm tactics of) men. The Internet and the Pink Chaddi campaign has provided that outlet.

Its a shame, that women who are actually at the receiving end (i.e. like the one pictured above) may have no access to internet and fail to participate in this national movement.

Personally, I would have loved to send and Pink Chaddi with a hole it its back side to the Ram Sene guys!

Let freedom be freedom of thought and not freedom from thoughts.

Economics v/s Religion

I saw them outside the Fatehpur Skiri. They were carving 'Om' out of white marble in freezing cold. I asked them, "Why Om?". They said, "Thats what sells."

Economics, if rightly positioned, can win against organised religion based divides, whether Hindu or Muslim.

Memories

Just located them on the disk, pics of my Harvard days. Its amazing, feels like years ago...

The one with Vijay Tendulkar is for keeps!! I attended his lecture at MIT. He was awesome. He said that at the fag end of his life he has realised that nobody has really understood his writing, even his closest friends. He was sad and completely crest fallen at this discovery some years ago during a casual talk with his close friend on his literature. He then got into the habit of checking it with his readers and everytime it confirmed his worst fears! Its painful.

I was lucky to have met him personally. He permitted me to click a pic with him.

Someday I hope to go back to Boston to just hang around on Mass Ave, Boston Beer Works, Harvard Square...its magical!

Dilli!!

This new years I went around Delhi & Agra. 7 days. Clicked more thn 2000 pics. Have edited the better looking ones and am starting to upload in batches from now on.

Delhi is majestic and powerful, but not the one which Sheila Dixit has 'renovated' and that which has won her the 3rd consecutive CM's term.

I am referring to the majestic aura and power of the other Delhi that was built by the mughals and british.

Its big, its huge, yet its understated.

There are no pubs and discos here, but the buzz is infectious. The food is awesome, the paan is worth dying for, there is 'tehzeeb' in the way they speak. The women here are 'lajawaab' and manliness is not about eve-teasing or rape - but about deftly wearing a saree to make a lady buy more from their shop!!

I loved this Delhi, which some fools call "Old Delhi". Rakeysh Omprakash Mehra calls it Delhi 6. I agree. It is actually like a Yuvraj Singh's 6, it makes you feel heady.

Why Vote?

This is what I saw at the Trident on Sunday Nov.29, 2008. Common man was watching with awe and helplessness the destruction that followed the Mumbai Attacks.

Everyone standing there were unanimous about voting - this time around.

Here's what Martin Luther King has said about our right to vote -

"So long as I do not firmly and irrevocably possess the right to vote I do not possess myself. I cannot make up my mind — it is made up for me. I cannot live as a democratic citizen, observing the laws I have helped to enact — I can only submit to the edict of others.

So our most urgent request to the president of the United States and every member of Congress is to give us the right to vote.

Give us the ballot and we will no longer have to worry the federal government about our basic rights.

Give us the ballot and we will no longer plead to the federal government for passage of an anti-lynching law; we will by the power of our vote write the law on the statute books of the southern states and bring an end to the dastardly acts of the hooded perpetrators of violence.

Give us the ballot and we will transform the salient misdeeds of blood-thirsty mobs into calculated good deeds of orderly citizens.

Give us the ballot and we will fill our legislative halls with men of good will, and send to the sacred halls of Congressmen who will not sign a Southern Manifesto, because of their devotion to the manifesto of justice.

Give us the ballot and we will place judges on the benches of the South who will "do justly and love mercy," and we will place at the head of the southern states governors who have felt not only the tang of the human, but the glow of the divine.

Give us the ballot and we will quietly and nonviolently, without rancor or bitterness, implement the Supreme Court's decision of May 17, 1954.

Give us the ballot."

Lets Vote...this time around.

I want my Mumbai back

To me, Mumbai has always been about Fashion Street, Flora Fountain, Bade Miyan, Mondegar's, Strand Book Stall, Central Camera, Chimanlal, Vithal Bhelpuri, New Excelsior & Sterling & Regal, Jahangir Art Gallery, Marine Drive....

My first job was that of a restaurant cashier in Oberoi Hotels. In 1990. I used to travel from Dombivli (a distant suburb of Mumbai) to Mumbai CST every afternoon for a night shift. I would walk from the station to Oberoi Hotels - from DN Road, to Regal circle at Colaba and then a right to nariman point and finally to Oberoi. My 2nd shift used to get over by 12.00 am and I used to sprint on the lonely roads - from Oberoi Hotel to Mumbai CST to catch the last train at 12.44 am. And every night when I sprinted, I was scared - of the prostitutes standing in the by-lanes, of drunkards hovering around them and some (invisible) mugger lurking around (mostly in my mind, rather than on the roads). After 21 days of this misery, I gave up. I quit.

I was 21 then.
I am 38 now.

And how times have changed. I no more work in town. My office is 10 minutes away from my apartment. I travel in an a/c car with a driver. But today I was scared to go to my office. Over the past few years, due to the repeated attacks on Mumbai, the concept of fear has drastically changed. Today, I find the prostitutes, the drunkards and the muggers too innocent to scare me. Now I fear for my life or losing my family and friends to mindless terror acts unleashed in Mumbai. And all I can do is to be a silent spectator - like everyone around me. It makes me feel like a loser. And I hate this feeling within me.

I find the Manmohan Singh (with his Sachin Tendulkar like voice), Vilasrao Deshmukh and Shivraj Patil response to the ongoing terror attack so blatantly dumb, that I am aghast - are these the same politicians we elected?

What use is Mr.Singh's financial and economic acumen when he cannot resolve some of the more basic issues of farmer suicides, religious terrorism (of both Hindu and Islamic fundamentalists) and religous conversions (of the Catholic fundamentalists)? Mere economic progress, higher GDP, lower inflation, forex reserves, a booming share market, cannot make an India survive. India survives as much on religion and sprituality as it does on economic progress. Which is why we survive economic depression much better than the Americans.

If we want our Mumbai back, then we need to seriously think of the politicians we get to power. And for that, this time around, we need to vote.

Color of Obama

One small observation on the fantastic Obama victory in United States. It seems like the whole election was a clash of race and color - between the whites and the blacks (and the browns).

It was also between the haves and the have nots and between the inhabitants and immigrants.

Iraq, economic depression, etc. were issues too but deep down I could feel that what decided Obama's fate as the new President of United States was the color of his skin.

A report says that John McCain won more white votes than Obama. McCain won 55 percent of white votes. But Obama still won easily, winning huge majorities among minority voters. He attracted 95 percent of black votes and about 67 percent of Hispanic votes!

Obama represents a hope for millions of americans and immigrants who lost out on a better life and/or respect simply because of their color, race, economic and immigrant status.

I may be wrong - but then look at this pic, look at the hopes in the eyes of the people, the lady on the right with a hand on her heart - what else can this be?

Can you believe this? Kenya has declared a national holiday to celebrate Obama's victory.

Obama would surely have to read Hanuman Chalisa to fulfill the dreams of his billions of supporters within and ouside the US.

Photograph Courtesy: Paresh Gandhi/Rediff

We met again

We met again on pre-dussera day. Had a blast. Maya said, "She hasn't laughed so much since long."

The Guilt Window Syndrome

At every traffic signal, you experience the Guilt Window Syndrome.

Some cute kid comes and knocks on the car window and makes a small face. He makes you feel guilty about your wealth. You quickly take a coin out and hand it over to the kid and shake your guilt away.

But it stays with you long after.

Kid watching rain in Dharavi

My car was stuck in Dharavi traffic for about 8-10 mins. I kept watching this kid intently looking out of the window.

Suddenly it started to rain, and I clicked.

Fishermen in Color

Fishermen at sea

Amazing guys. I captured them near Mahabalipuram, Chennai. They said during Tsunami, the sea suddenly started going inside. Within 45 minutes, it had gone in by several kilometres.

After that, all of a sudden it started approaching the shore ferociously. The entire shore and all the beach resorts were wiped out.

Chairs and Shadows

I was in Chennai for an offsite at MGM Resort on ECR Road. Clicked these set of chairs kept on the beach.

Computer Education in Jharkhand

I have been working on promoting computer education programs for rural youth across India. Its called Skill Builder. We have partnered with Intel on the same.

Check out this video in Digwar, Jharkhand.

Lalbaugcha Raja!!

Lalbaugcha Raja - The most beautiful Ganesh Idol you can ever see (if you manage to get in!!)

In Defence of Marathi Manoos

I am currently have an interesting online debate with my marathi colleague who is circulating a ppt about how there are no maharashtrians in the Government bureaucracy. The facts are true but the assumption that north indians are responsible for this mess is hilarious.

Anyway, here's a lovely article by a Tamilian writer who is a migrant in Mumbai since the past 23 years. I loved it because I exactly feel the same about this issue.

I admire Raj Thackeray for bringing up this issue. But I do not subscribe to his methods.

"Twenty-three years ago, soon after I landed up at the crowded Dadar station in north-central Mumbai hoping to make this incredibly high-energy city home and went about the task earnestly, one thing struck me as odd.

It was the absence of Marathi around me.

I found it odd because in the city I considered home till then, Chennai, Tamil, the local language, was in your face, as were all things associated with the language and culture.

You had to know Tamil to survive there; and you wore your non-knowledge of Hindi as a badge of honour. As a youth it was de rigueur to take part in agitations against the 'imposition' of Hindi. If you received a lathi on the back or cooled your heels in the police lockup for a day for tarring a signboard, you were a local hero.

The stupidity of it all hit me when I left the state's boundaries. Knowing the local language wherever you are, I still hold, is an absolute must, but my youthful aggression has subsequently been tempered today to say you need to know the local language plus the national language. It is not an either-or situation, as seems to be the case in aamchi Mumbai.

So I found it odd that in Maharashtra's capital I went about learning not Marathi, but Hindi.

I found it extremely odd, and still do, that that you can live all your life in Maharashtra's capital without speaking a word of Marathi.

I found it odd that barring pockets in Maharashtra's capital, there was nothing visibly Maharashtrian about Mumbai.

I couldn't help contrasting it with the city I came from. My god, back home this can never happen, I thought then; today, seeing the influx of 'outsiders' in once-conservative Chennai every time I visit, I wonder if it too will go the way of Mumbai, where all things Tamil will be confined to smaller and smaller pockets till one fine day the only place you will find them in will be the local museum. As an endangered species.

Oh, but Mumbai is a cosmopolitan city, you don't need to know Marathi here: I have this line thrown at me umpteen times that it doesn't raise my hackles anymore.

Is cosmopolitanism a ticket to erase the local identity, ignore the local language and thereby an important part of the local ethos, I have argued with friends who wore their non-knowledge of Marathi on their sleeve like I once did with Hindi.

I think it is a matter of shame that after 23 years in the city my Hindi is better than my Marathi.

I think it is a disgrace that there are scores and scores of schools in the city that don't think it is necessary to teach Marathi, and there are more being set up.

I think it is pathetic that we, the non-Maharashtrians who have made our home and millions in this city, don't give a damn to the concerns of the local population.

Isn't it hypocritical that we who berate the religious minorities day after day for not 'assimilating fully' with the majority, whatever we mean by that, are loath to do the same when it comes to language?

Just look at the furore over the Marathi signboards in Mumbai. For the life of me I can't figure out what the problem is in with having them in Devnagari and in English, with the former in bigger font. Devnagari is also Hindi, you morons, we may all not speak Marathi and look down on it but most if not all of us barring the newbies to the city know that language, I want to tell the critics.

Twenty-three years ago I wondered why no political party was articulating the locals' angst at being overrun by others. Oh you mean the Shiv Sena, scorned those in the know, it can't win any election, it can only beat up Madrasis.

Then the inevitable happened. That party won the elections to the Brihanmumbai Municipal Corporation. Against an uproar of protests and condemnations it changed the name of the city to Mumbai; how Bombay became less of a city on being called Mumbai, I couldn't, and still can't, figure out. Still there are hordes that refuse to call the city by its original name, as if mentioning it would get them a day in jail or worse.

But the Shiv Sena soon calculated that while local support will only bring it the municipality, to win the state's power-centre Mantralaya it needs to appeal to a larger section and went easy on its original plank. Beyond lip service to the Maharashtrian cause and Marathi, it did sweet little. Oh, how steep the price for ruling cosmopolitan Mumbai!

Today another Thackeray has taken over the job of articulating the native angst, and I hope he does a better job of it than his uncle.

I have my own theory on why Raj Thackeray, whose political party has blue (for Dalits), saffron (for Hindus) and green (for Muslims) on its flag, decided to go agro on the locals issue.

Last year's civic elections in Mumbai proved to him that more than anything else, it was the consolidation of the 'outsider vote' -- read from UP and Bihar -- that led to his Maharashtra Navnirman Sena putting up a less than expected performance.

And since then he has upped the mercury in his campaign against the communities he believes ganged up against him. In civic ward after civic ward in Mumbai, like mine for instance, it is an open secret that migrant labour may not have their families with them but they sure have a vote which they cast on the say-so of their local benefactor.

There is no way Raj Thackeray can break this nexus; so he decided to go after the Maharashtrian cause full-throttle.

Does it mean that he doesn't really believe in the cause he has been articulating? I don't know.

But I do know that the cause he has robbed from under the Shiv Sena's nose has tremendous emotive value to a section that increasingly thinks it is being squeezed out from its city.

In Mumbai either we take pride in not knowing Marathi despite having lived here for years, or speak the language to the support staff -- the office peons, the driver, the bai, but that too only a smattering, mind. After all we don't know Marathi.

It is only in Mumbai you can get away with this. You can't treat the local language so shabbily in any of the other metros. I know you can't do this to Tamil in Chennai.

You can blame the soft-hearted, decent Maharashtrian for meekly standing by while the rest of us made the most of the opportunities in the City of Gold if it soothes your conscience, but the fact is the rest of us have misused and abused the hospitality and warmth shown by the Maharashtrians to us. I am not sure how much longer he will remain a mute spectator.

And when that happens, we will have it brought upon ourselves by consistently downgrading Marathi, denying Mumbai its Maharashtrian heart, and being terrible citizens in a great city."

Saisuresh Sivaswamy