83- A nation inspired

 

The movie about India's cricket world cup victory was released last week after much anticipation of a good part of 2 years. Needless to say, it did live up to the hype. It’s a story well told of how a young inexperienced leader managed to inspire his team of veterans and rookies to perform above and beyond what they could, to earn a sensational victory in England after beating a condescending English media and a mighty West indies team.

We may think it was all about the game of cricket. But in all honesty, as a nation it changed our attitude towards life. A rebuilding nation, hungry, desperate for parity with the rest of the world. Tired of tyranny and disrespect from the upper echelons. for the Baby Boomer Generation and Gen X a glimmer of hope and a subtle change of attitude which even they did not realize. it would take another few decades for South Asia to understand what 1983 meant. I am including India's neighbors because it is fair to share the joy with our neighbors. Just because some of our neighbors don’t like us, we have to reciprocate in kind with the hope that they will come around. I digress…………back to 83 the movie. What happened at Tunbridge wells in the match against Zimbabwe, where a young captain, burdened with carrying the team, against all odds, played the game of his life to turn things around, was long overdue. I am glad it was delivered to us by a man who worked his butt off to get where he got. A simple, lovable soul that’s all I can say. I don’t know him personally. In fact, he himself admits going into a trance and not realizing the amazing feat he achieved. it can be compared to the New England Patriots team down 3-28 in the middle of the third quarter, coming back and beating the Atlanta Falcons to win Superbowl.

I am sure the movie will be a commercial success. There is enough Bollywood spice added for good measure. However, the message if you can read between the lines is loud and clear. we have broken free from the shackles of compliance and self-doubt. Yes, that's what the western colonialism wanted us to remain in.  we broke out of the rooster coop(paraphrasing from Aravind Adiga's book).

As a 20-year-old young man, I watched the motorcade carrying the victorious Indian team go by standing outside Mahim church and caught a glimpse of a few players including Kapil with his trademark grin. Little did I know what he did on June 18, 1983 in Neville Ground of Tunbridge wells will inspire a whole nation to aspire for more. Almost 40 years later, if you connect the dots, many of us achieved the heights that we yearned for and millions of us are marching towards the goals that they set for themselves. and for that I salute our captain Kapil Dev Nikhanj for his contributions and inspiration.

"The heights by great men reached and kept were not attained by sudden flight, but they, while their companions slept, were toiling upward in the night."- Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.

White Tiger - Movie Review

 

 White Tiger - Not a review just an opinion!

• Have you experienced poverty? hunger? discrimination? frustration? homelessness? despair? loneliness? hopelessness? harassment?
• Have you cursed and screamed at no one in particular on top of your voice with your windows rolled up?
• Have you said yes/no when you really wanted to say no/yes because of the consequences that could follow?
• Have you walked around aimlessly and felt helpless to the point that you thought life is not worth living?
  

If you have answered yes to one or more or all of these questions........you could relate to the character Balram in the movie - White Tiger. I am not going to review it here because it is best if you see it, experience it and become it in some way or the other. I have watched it about 4 times now and I know I will be watching it again. Partially because it stirs some memories in my subconscious mind, mostly because Adarsh Gaurav, who played the protagonist in the movie gave a performance of his life to do justice to Balram. You can pause the movie every 2 minutes and think about the situation and see if you could relate.
It is assumed that the story is about the Rich, poor, deplorable caste system, subservience, etc. What I learned from this brilliant creation of  was much more than that. When the credits roll you can tell the rest of the cast, director, and all the details. Sure everyone gets credit for a movie so well made...especially Ramin Bahrani. But Adarsh carried the movie on his young shoulders. One of the most powerful dialogues in the movie is when Balram is wondering to himself about his relationship to his master, Ashok- "Love in the pretext of loathing or loathe in the pretext of loving" it hits a nerve.

A place to call home...

 

In the 70's and 80's thousands of people from all over India left their small towns and villages and headed to Bombay to find work or in some cases pursue education. Yours truly included. Bombay was a big city then, but not the metropolis that it has become now. I do realize that depending on need, change is inevitable, and the city must make adjustments; therefore, the skyscrapers, malls, and other infrastructure changes to accommodate. However, I do miss the small town feel of the 80s when I visit.

 

So the question is, where do all these people who arrive find shelter- a place to call home, sleep, feel safe and be comfortable? Not sure about now, but back 30+ years ago there were Paying Guest accommodations, room rentals, bed rentals and many other creative way people found a place to live. And, there were working women and men’s hostels. I happened to live in one of those "hostels" conveniently located between Hill Road and Turner road, close to Bandra station. I am going to leave out the specifics to maintain anonymity to respect the privacy of the kind gentleman and his family who provided me a place to live when I was desperate. Although, I am sure somebody here may be able to figure out exactly who/where I am talking about.

 

My Landlord was a kind, reasonable, broadminded, no-nonsense kind of person who managed to house  30-40 young men, some of them rambunctious with gentle authority. The rooms were clean, with a window, so fresh air, common bathroom and facilities with running water and showers(which was a luxury). there was no rulebook, only unwritten rules- respect one another, be kind and don’t interfere in anyone’s business if they didn’t want you to. He would occasionally come check on us, but never asked questions or interfered unless there was a reason. As long as the rent was paid on time and you minded your own business there was no problem. He also realized that we were grown men and sometimes friends would visit, it was never an issue as long as it was within reasonable hours. Anyone testing the limits was dealt with firmly and in a manner that others would not even know there was any kind of trouble. When I had an issue with my room, he assured me that as soon as another one is available, I can move there( and I did), I was pleasantly surprised when I got employed by an international airline, he was one of the first ones to congratulate me. His family too was very kind. Eventually, when I moved out, I was apologetic, but he was gracious and remember him staying- " I don’t expect you to live here forever, everyone has to move on and someone else will take your place”. A logical response.

 

Needless to say, I have to say I was lucky to be staying at a prime location, paying reasonable rent,be able to get a good night’s rest, and be a "Bandra boy" even if it was for a couple of years. I have stayed in places where the landlord would raise rent without notice, be abusive and unreasonable, sometimes even evict you without reason.

Mumbai meri jaan ( Mumbai, my love)

 Mumbai is a city of/for dreamers- dream big and reach for the stars. and when you make it big, don’t forget the path you took and where you came from.
My life in Mumbai can be compared to an Andheri local. I have lived in rented beds(yes beds, not a room or a flat) in chawls in Colaba, Flora Fountain, Dadar,Vile Parle, and Andheri and PG digs in Bandra and Andheri. the first 3 years I lived in Catering college( IHMCTAN-Respect!!) hostel in Dadar which was comfortable. Since it was a college preparing us to work in hospitality industry.we (students) cooked and ate what we cooked which was less than desirable. Healthy wholesome food, as the menu was designed and prepared towards nutrition, but taste.....left a lot to be desired. the refuge was vada pao with lasoon chutney at Shivaji Park(which was a staple every evening-cheap and filling), potato toast at Greens restaurant(near Shivaji Park) and when I could afford it maybe a chinese fried rice at Sanmaan near Shivaji park or a Thali at Sujatha Udipi. the first year was tough as I was perpetually broke living on meagre allowance that came from home. Starting the summer of 1981, I started earning some money on the side waiting tables and working banquets. just enough for an occasional indulgence in lifes little luxuries. yeah turning 18 introduced me to some minor vices. on weekends we took the BEST bu 83 or 84 to south Bombay to watch movies at Metro, Eros, Regal, Strand et.al.
Now you might think someone who goes to Catering college would end up in ritzy and glamorous 5-star hotels. Sure, it could be true in some cases. for all the razzmatazz that’s visible from outside, the people who work behind the scenes toil an average 12 hours a day, which pays meagre wages (this is the 80s, not sure about now). Management will suck every bit out of you. The motto was "guest is always right". Gulp, even if the guest is berating you for no fault of yours? Service industry has double standards and it sucks.
Bombay of the 80s was a small town. it’s not the city with mega malls and skyscrapers that it has become today (change is inevitable, but call me a romantic, I miss the small-town feel when i visit). no matter where you are from, everyone was welcome (well-almost everyone). If you can make it here, you can make it anywhere (another cheesy cliché). I worked for an upscale hotel in South Bombay which had a revolving restaurant, Bombay Gymkhana and Air-India before I decided to risk it all and venture out overseas. the owners of Ambassador had a nice looking German car( again, this is 80s, it must be a common thing now) which he would park in front, I would look at and wonder- would I ever be able to take a ride in something like this? 10 years later I owned one similar in a different land- dreams do come true.
Anyone remember Gemini, Gaiety Galaxy? I remember watching Rajesh Khanna's "red rose" in one of those in my first week in Mumbai. There was an Irani restaurant in Khar-Danda, where sometimes I ate with my cousin.  I had just learned to eat with a spoon and fork in Catering college, to show off my newfound skills, I asked the waiter for Kanta (fork), he brings me- Kanda, onions. I am learning quickly- it is baida not anda,batata not alu, and so on.
1986 was a special year because after living for a few years in dark, dinghy, humid, squalid conditions(again, I am always thankful, I had a roof over my head, never had to sleep on the sidewalk, God’s grace) i was actually able to rent a room in Hill Road Bandra with a friend and co-worker. running water, fresh air, proper bed and clean surroundings, it was like coming out of prison and feeling free. Anyone remember Casbah? Beer and mystery meat kababs? Once I got food poisoning and was down for a week. but did that stop me no... went back for more. cast iron stomach. Also, I finally felt a sense of belonging. I was truly happy, a little less insecure, and like any young blood, I felt I could make a difference and change the world. A special person who hopped on my Andheri local and stayed a while before hopping off may have something to do with it. I digress.
I have fond memories of Asiatic dept store, AkbarAllys, Sahakari bhandar, Sundance Cafe, Satkar, Lucky Biryani, Sayba Gomantak (Bandra),the list is endless... ( are they still around?)
Anyone remember Talwalkar's gym at Charni road? I went there for a few months. the trainer took one look at my scrawny physique and said you work out here every day and have a beer after-"body ban jaayega" . I left Mumbai in 1992 as a lean, mean hungry dog. today I am a lazy fat cat.

Platform surfing- circa 1986

 Platform surfing- circa 1986

If you are a Mumbaikar- chances are you have traveled by local train- western or central- don’t matter.
You have heard about train surfing where people are traveling on top of the train and precariously balancing so not to get electrocuted.
I am going to talk about platform surfing.....wonder what that could be? I shall explain..
Most hotel/restaurant workers toil 6 days a week, sometimes 7 if there is a need. Typical routine for a suburban resident working in Churchgate area establishments (or elsewhere) is to wake up hung over (not everyone, maybe some of the young and restless :-)). Now there is a mad rush to make it to work at 11.30am. This applies to people who work break shift. Lunch serving hours - 11.30a to 3.30p, Dinner - 6.30p to 12.30a. if you are lucky you got the full 3 hours of break…….anyways…
So, making it to work at 11.30am…... You take a balti bath or shower, find the cleanest clothes available and try to catch the bus or auto rickshaw to train station. Say if you are living in Bandra W and as soon as you enter it is Platform 1, and the churchgate fast ( bandra-dadar-bombay central- churchgate) arrives on platform 4. you have 2 choices, take the stairs with the sea of people or "Platform Surf". This takes pin point precision in many ways – 1. you dont want to be hit by a train, 2. you dont want to get caught doing it, 3. you dont want to get your hand or clothes dirty.
Lemme explain..As soon as you arrive at platform 1 look at the display for the arrival of churchgate fast on platform 4. now scan for trains arriving on platforms 1.2 and 3. If the coast is clear, take the last drag of your cigarette and toss it J, Jump off to the tracks on platform 1 and like a Derby horse take perfect strides to leap on to platform 2. You are halfway. Now look both sides on 3 and 4 and jump down from 3 and leap on to 4. Perfect 10, you nailed it. Now if you are blessed with long legs, chances are you can do this every single time and have no stains/rips on either your clothes or your hand. But for someone who is of a shorter stature ( wink-wink) unless you are really athletic, chances are you either end up putting you hands on the filthy platform floor or extending your arm for a stranger to pull you up ( props to mumbaikars, no one ever refuses.......now you know why I love mumbai.....the camaraderie and kinship..) I have been on the embarrassing end of this many a times, but once or twice a week....I found success.....small victories 🙂.
After work there is this mad rush to catch the 1 am Borivli local home. on a few occasions I have over-slept and missed my stop and ended up in Borivli yard. then to jump off the train and catch the all night bus from Borivli back to where I can catch a few hours of good sleep. only to repeat the same routine over……...

 

An Unsung Hero : Padmakar Shivalkar

One of the best left arm spinners who never played for India was Padmakar (Paddy) Shivalkar. Being a contemporary of Bishan Bedi, he never made the team. One could make an argument that having him in the team instead of E Prasanna would have made a difference.  Don’t want to get into the politics of a bygone era, but….  As a child, I was a sports enthusiast and needless to say a big fan of Shivalkar. Year after year, I would hope that he made the team, but it wasn’t meant to be.  A humble soul and a great cricketer!

 

 

 Mumbai- Lonely amongst a sea of people...

 

A city of opportunities. A city of dreamers, A city where dreams become reality. A city for families, for youngsters, for old, for the people who love life and  nightlife, for the hardworking and the smartworking, and also for the ones who preferred solitude. One could fall in to some of these categories, one or all of these categories. I was a hard worker, may be not very smart and for most part I liked my own company. I didn’t have many friends, still don’t. I don’t have a dislike for people but I preferred to be alone.

Taking you back to the mid 80's again. the Mumbai I love and cherish and time stands still. Working long hours in the service industry did not allow much breathing room. Once a week on my day off, it would be washing clothes, giving what cannot be washed at home to the Dhobi and either going to the nearest Udupi restaurant for a leisurely breakfast with the day’s newspaper, mostly scanning for what is a movie to watch that afternoon. There was a small nook in AkbarAlly's in Fort where they would sell espresso and snacks. it was a small bar counter with a couple of bar stools. I would sit there for hours having an omelet and sipping coffee reading newspapers and doing the daily crossword puzzle. In the afternoon, catch a matinee, mostly to sit in air-conditioning, many a times, I would go to sleep and wake up at the end of the movie. Sometimes the best sleep I have got. Of course, the bugs would feast on my arms and I have to go get boroline or caladryl to stop the itchiness. but that was never a deterrent. it was a part of life. Evenings I would head to Mahesh Lunch home ( it wasn’t that famous then) or another restaurant for a beer or two or a quarter of Old monk with thums up. and of course some dinner. Once in a while I would go to "Cannon" pao bhaji near VT where you stood around a stall and ate. It was so good there was a line behind you, after you finish your meal, you fall out so the next person can take your place. Walking past all the illegal stalls selling smuggled good near VT, the sad faces of ladies of the night waiting for customers, street pharmacist selling their stuff, making it back to the dinghy room with no window or fan to settle for the night... tomorrow is another day.

Loved walking up and down marine drive, sits on the tetrapods, and gaze at the ocean. watching Arab tourists tossing coins at beggars and waking away indifferently. Sometimes I would go over to fashion street( across from Eros and the moved to across from Bombay Gymkhana) and buy export reject clothes at throw away price. of course you have to bargain.

Leopoldo cafe and another place that I have been many a few times . it was fascinating to see so many Caucasians in one place. Listen to them and trying to understand what the heck they were saying. It was hard to tell Eastern Europeans from Americans or any other part of the world, they all looked and sounded the same.

Thinking back one thing that I didn’t notice then but realize now is the people, there were people everywhere, no matter what time of the day it was or where you went. So much energy and adrenaline that you could feel it and then you become it.

I have seen many like me in the course of the time, sitting alone and drinking, watching the one movie that the restaurant plays all night, walking aimlessly, forlorn look on their face, migrant workers probably missing their families, hoping for a better tomorrow or waiting for the next big break......

Wear a mask, save yourself and save others. Peace