Jobless Days - 31 Jan

30 Jan Mahim- My Muse, My Whore

I wasn’t really feeling like writing from past few days. Writer’s block- I might think, but more than that the reason would be the ailing mind captured in the claustrophobic room of injured confidence! Few exceptional things that happened, ringing a bell at every jump were- My roomies’ celebrations. While one had a ball at his birthday, the other got a job! I wish I should have written about what I felt while the cat drank the milk, but I chose to cogitate (pronounced as Kau-gee-tate, means to exercise the mind powers to analyze a situation and come up with inferences or arrive at a judgement). How much did I cogitate, I have no clue; but yes, I indeed ran out of my brain powers. Not as much in the later case, but the former was simply psychotropic! Atleast half the Mahim got pissed at ‘a-gang-of-drunk-irresponsible-boys’ for disturbing their slumber or their late night cosy bed talks! Earlier that night I was filled with regrets of not having a sip from the rum-coke pecks, but now I ‘saw’ the benefits of not having alcohol! Isn’t it marvellous that humanbeings are so influential by nature that their state of subconscious is filled with all sorts of influences? Pinkfloyd sounds soothing to drunken ears, rock and roll is orgasmic after getting drunk, and suddenly Rang de basanti is the best-est film ever in the history of cinema! This would definitely be a catch phrase in the sitcoms of martians, making fun of homo sapiens! My drunken friends- each of them thought themselves to be Mr DJ from Rang de basanti. Being talli was making them learn ‘gravity’! (bravo massmedia!) It’s tough to think what if mass media wasn’t existing? Another point not-to-be-missed here is-all of us think we are the ‘heroes’ (or in simple terminology- stars!). Each and every conversation that night was being linked to a dialogue of a hindi film. “If pandu catches us-” was followed by a dialogue from Vaastav “ye sab raada karte hue mile, de jaake unhe uthak-patak-uthak-patak..” and huge roars of laughter! Even if we are doing bad things, then also we want to be the star-villains; how pity, nobody thinks of those old character actors who had those ugly villainous laughs. They don’t seem to exist today! Either it’s Sanju baba from Vaastav or Amar from Andaaz apna apna, rum and coke makes you voodoo-connect with these characters!

As things seemed to be continuously plucking the string of my mental balance, that night, I called Mahim- a whore! The whore who is in a conjugal relationship with drunkards and god-men. The Whore who moans with pleasure and smiles with superbia. I, actually did cogitate: Mahim- my whore!

Jobless Days - 1 Feb

1 Feb The Moolah Streets

My day begins as the Moolah calls the praises of his lord. Crows wake up by the prayers, I am not sure if Allah wakes up though. After the Moolah, the priest downstairs starts ringing the bell- trying to wake up Sri Ram. The crows are now in complete distress. They call for help! But alas, they can’t sound like the nightingales; and thanks to all these calls- my slumber fails to grip me, and I rise too. Opening the sliding windows, I search for the massive Cadbury dairy milk Silk hoarding- the pretty model used to ward off my loneliness, but now all I see is three old actors trying to be cool- the hording of Dil toh baccha hai ji has replaced my pretty time pass! (sigh!) What go unnoticed are the cluttered slums and the market hidden below the tall buildings around. So, I decide to take a walk! (Till the thought was executed by my lazy body, it was late evening!) I still needed a motive to get out of my bed- and thus persuaded my body to listen to the ‘chai calling’. The only chai shop that remains open in the late evening is atleast half a kilometre away from my place. But its taste is worth the walk.

The chai wala sensed my helplessness as I surrendered to the aroma, and handed me a full instead of a cutting, with a smile! The chai, always amazes me. The moment the narcotic gets absorbed in my veins, the course of time reaches a nodal point. I start getting mixed emotions about my surroundings, and more than that- I get the ‘vision’. I see beyond the seen and think beyond the thoughts! Exactly at that that juncture, a little girl ran by. I realised my wallet had fallen- as I bent down to pick it up- I heard something. It was like a hymn. I searched for the source, that’s when I saw them! A group of ladies were reciting “aum”. They were sitting in a meditation room, their husbands were waiting outside. A life size cut out of a ‘god-lady’ sat infront of them, decorated with flowers and Christmas lights. The surround 5.1 speaker system played her recordings- a digital (ladies-only) satsang. The idols of Radha-Kishan, amused by man’s re-definition of satsang smiled in her background. God bless technology! I took a turn and took a short cut to my home.

Mahim, continued to muse me. The streets went through the infamous Kapad Bazar. The filthy street of Mahim that was last seen in Kashyap’s Black Friday. One of the sensitive areas of Mumbai occupied by extreme Hindus and Musalmans. In the process of amusing me, this street turned out to be a multifarious neighbourhood of insights. The smell of roasted beef lingered in the air, vendors called out to their buyers aloud, old beggars sang the praises of Allah, kids with their tiny muslim caps ran for freedom as their mothers, hidden in the black burkhas bargained with the bhaji walah. I started to cogitate again (perhaps to an onlooker I looked like a Zombie). What holds the life out here? Is it Mass media? Is it religion? The house wives seemed at perfect ease as their husbands felt pride in sowing off their masculinity. Compromises perhaps! Answers turned into questions. What makes such a harmony life hold the dagger and make bloodshed, killing millions and abducting peace? Why isn’t mass media reaching out to them and preaching them, like the god-lady? At this moment, my eyes fell on a massive hoarding of Shiv sena. Outdoor advertising at its best! The emperor was sitting on his huge spacious throne and smiling. The subjects were fighting for a place to stay! ‘When we are not fighting, we shake hands!’ Massmedia was still ruling their lives! Right below the hoarding was an abandoned Shiv temple. Poor lord, someone else has taken your place now!

People are so driven by religion, each and every morning, they wake up to the Moolah’s cries, pray in the direction of Mecca, clean their house and greet people by praising the lord (salaam-e-walekum) every single time. The Hindu, prays for the peace of mind; the Musalman praises the lord. What simply slips off from the scenario is the awareness about the villain. People driven in the cart of religion, forget the driver has other motives. But for the time being, there’s peace all around. The Kapad Bazar has become my muse!