Tryst with wanted turned haunted rains

Mumbai was once again under water-attack. The much-awaited rain performed well to break its own records. It rained heavily, with a record 677mm rain in 12 hours and 944mm in 24 hours starting 0830 hours on Tuesday, July 26, 2005.

Prior to this, I had an experience of facing similar conditions, in which case I reached home the very next day. But this time it took me almost more than 2 complete days to return to my hometown Dombivli*. I took the train, running on trial basis, from Ghatkopar* and reached Thane* at about 1930 hours. The trains were not moving beyond this point for the only reason that the rail tracks were totally submerged under the rainwater. Thane station was totally occupied by people waiting desperately for the trains to start on the down side. I was pleased to see humanity - a term generally used in speeches and printed on pieces of paper - put in practice. Residents of Mulund* and Thane did show humanity by offering food packets to commuters waiting on the stations for very long hours. The bank ATM centers were not operational, which laid Mumbaikars with no option but to look for survival with whatever cash they had in hand.

Some people tried to take road route to reach their destination. The state transport had made arrangements for the same. The queue to board these buses was about 1 km long. The scene of the bus horrified me. It was packed to the limits and had 20-25 commuters on the top, trying to depict SRKs Chhaiyaa Chhaiyaa dance in the movie Dil Se and around 10 dying to occupy the seat in drivers cabin. This scene reminded me of the Fevicol, an adhesive, ad wherein the passengers get hold of whatever they find to remain attached to the bus – not leaving a single bolt free.

I abstained from taking this route and shifted to my friends place in Thane to spend a peaceful night. I got up in the morning and left to see if there was any chance to get into the train, if they were moving towards my home town, or get into a vehicle which took the road route. The trains were in no position to move beyond Thane, so had to look for some source that took the roadway. Fortunately, I found an auto, a three-wheeler vehicle - rikshaw is what they call here, and shared it with three more people. The traffic of previous night seemed to be cleared and there were no signs of waterlogging on the roads except that filled into the ditches. At some places, as our driver pointed out, a couple of vehicles had been flown away in the floodwaters. The road was also uprooted at some places leaving small room for the drivers. I reached home after two long days. No wonder that the rain was pouring throughout the journey.

A very unusual tryst with the wanted turned haunted rains.

*suburbs on the Mumbai Central-Railway line

Conference Call with SARKAR

People approached HIM, the Sarkar, and complained about the rains for it failed to manifest itself as per the season calender. People, annoyed with the power load-shedding, were praying for the rains to arrive and start its innings as a batsman in form. And guess what, Sarkar who believes in himself and his power, approved peoples request and ordered rain to start his innings. For people who have seen the movie “Sarkar”, they might recall the first scene where a follower of Sarkar ruthlessly kills the boy who finds himself in trouble because of his misdeeds. But in our case, unfortunately, people found themselves in trouble. Like Sanath Jayasuriya smashing ruthlessly, punishing every ball deliverd by our Prasad, bowler (was he really the one?) famous only for picking a historical wicket against Pakistan in the world-cup thriller in B’lore, the rain lashed Mumbai city and its suburbs with a few of them being more susceptible to the released waters of the nearby dam.

I, in the company of my colleagues, was safe in my office building with all the facilities – from drinking water to the internet – available till late evening. Soon there was a power cut and our DG set was up, supplying power to avoid a total blackout. With the time passing by and food-resources getting extinct in the building, everybody seemed to worry about the dinner. We heard that none of the nearby hotels were in operation. So we moved out of the building to reach canteen – after all it’s a matter of fulfilling the stomach needs. We were lucky to reach canteen in time and get garma-garam dal bhaat, dahi(curd), kelaas, bhaji and some spices too. One cannot even think of availing such a facility in these circumstances, thanks to the canteen operators for serving the stucked-up employees.

As we came back, all searched for some entertainment packs. Fortunately one of our colleagues had a VCD of the movie “Sarkar” and the show was organized in one of the conference rooms. The room was occupied to its limits and the play button was clicked. The con-call with Amitabh Bachchan and Abhishek Bachchan, the Sarkars, lasted for about 120 minutes – this being a pirated copy. There was a replication of this activity with all quality standards being followed – the other conference room was playing a comedy packed show “Andaz Apna Apna”.

My transition from Powai to Dombivli* via Vikroli* and Thane* was very safe. I reached home after 51 long hours by the virtue of Sarkar !


*suburbs on the Mumbai Central-Railway line

Nehru's Speech on 15 August,1947

Long years ago we made a tryst with destiny, and now the time comes when we shall redeem our pledge, not wholly or in full measure, but very substantially. At the stroke of the midnight hour, when the world sleeps,India will awake to life and freedom. A moment comes, which comes but rarely in history, when we step out from the old to the new, when an age ends, and when the soul of a nation, long supressed, finds utterance. It is fitting that at this solemn moment, we take the pledge of dedication to the service of India and her people and to the still larger cause of humanity.

At the dawn of history, India started on her unending quest, and trackless centuries are filled with her striving and grandeur of her success and failures. Through good and ill fortune alike, she has never lost sight of that quest forgotten the ideals which gave her strength. We end today a period of misfortunes and India discovers herself again. The achievement we celebrate today is but a step, an opening of opportunity to the greater triumphs and achievements that await us. Are we brave enough and wise enough to grasp this opportunity and accept the challenge of the future?

Freedom and power bring responsibility. The responsibility rests upon this Assembly, a sovereign body representing the sovereign people of India. Before the birth of freedom, we have endured all the pains of labour and our hearts are heavy with the memory of this sorrrow. Some of those pains continue even now. Nevertheless,the past is over and it is the future that beckons us now.

That future is not one of ease or resting but of incessant striving so that we may fulfil the pledges we have so often taken and the one we shall take today. The service of India means, the service of the millions who suffer. It means the ending of poverty and ignorance and poverty and disease and inequality of opportunity. The ambition of the greatest man of our generation has been to wipe every tear from every eye. That may be beyond us, but as long as there are tears and suffering, so long our work will not be over.

And so we have to labour and to work, and to work hard, to give reality to our dreams. Those dreams are for India, but they are also for the world, for all the nations and peoples are too closely knit together today for any one of them to imagine that it can live apart. Peace is said to be indivisble, so is freedom, so is prosperity now, and also is disaster in this one world that can no longer be split into isolated fragments.


Courtesy: A Blogmate

Jupiter Crowned King of the Gods

In Greek mythology, Zeus (Jupiter in Roman mythology) was the king of heaven and earth and of all the Olympian gods. He was also known as the god of justice. He was named king of the gods in a special meeting that followed his overthrow of the god Cronus (Saturn in Roman mythology) and the Titans. In the council of the gods that followed, Zeus was crowned Lord of Heaven and Earth and of all the gods. He granted Poseidon (Neptune in Roman mythology) dominion over the Sea, and his other brother Hades (Pluto in Roman mythology) dominion over the underworld.

Zeus's wife was Hera, who was very jealous of the attention that Zeus paid to other goddesses and women. Zeus would often disguise himself as a bird or animal in order to sleep with other women. Usually, when Hera found out about the affair, she would severely punish the woman. Although not often written about, Hera possessed great power. Those that made her angry paid the price.

For example, Zeus fell in love with the lovely Io. Zeus turned Io into a cow to protect her from Hera. However, when Hera found out about the affair she tied up the cow. When Io escaped, Hera sent a gadfly to constantly sting Io for eternity. After a long tale, Zeus vowed to no longer pursue his beloved Io and only then Hera released Io from her inhuman prison. Io later settled in Egypt, becoming the first queen of Egypt.




Antonio da Correggio: "Jupiter and Io" (1532).
The painting depicts Zeus in the form of a cloud as he steals a kiss from the beautiful river nymph Io.

Bhajans and Songs in Mumbai Locals

puMDlaIk vardo harI ivaTzla…

Pundalika Varde Hari Vitthal..

It was the time when I used to travel through the second class in the local trains of Mumbai, firstly because I do not wanted to miss those Bhajans sung in the local trains and secondly because I could not afford to go by first class. Well, the former was much more a solid reason than the later one.

I used to take the local train that came from Kalyan which was “supposed” to be a bit empty than those coming from other places. There was a group of people boarding, I doubt this could be the word that fits here, for the way they used to get into the train can simply be thought of. They hardly required any time to settle and start their routine Bhajans. It is a nice practice to sing or hear these prayers in the morning. The “Buaas”, the lead singers, had a sturdy voice and a force to drive many other voices. The prayers, started with the above line, were followed by

EaI &anadova tukarama
pMZrInaaqa maharaja kI jaya !

Shri Gyandeva Tukaram
Pandharinath Maharaj ki Jay !

Then came the much awaited bhajans from the favorite Buaa. The commuters used to get so much involved that many of them swung their body to the harmonious rhythms. The atmosphere was no less pure than that in a temple. The inner compartment was entirely packed, with hardly any space to move your limbs, but the spirit was very high.

Situations changed and I shifted to first class. We had a nice group of friends and all tried to make it to the much famed 7.54 train. We used to stand at the door and sing songs - mostly marathi, utter some famous marathi kavitas, and pieces of stories from our own PuLa’s literature – in short we were enjoying our day’s start. But again the conditions changed with the time, and we all separated.

All this narrated the journey while going to the office. But there’s hardly anything to write about my return journey. It is dry, with a news paper in the hand and the mind going through the editorial columns. Not to mention about ‘The Speaking Tree’, it fascinates me a lot.

Today, fortunately, I got into a compartment which is shared with the one from second class. There was a bunch of people singing melodious songs from Hindi movies. A few of them had an appreciable quality in their voice to the extent that at one moment I, in fact everyone in our compartment paused to hear from them. This was the first time in my return journey that I stopped reading the news paper and concentrated on the song, being enjoyed by everyone. While I enjoyed there songs, I wished to accompany them by hitting on the side pieces of the compartment to produce the required beats. But the so called “white collar” of first class stopped me from doing this. The current incident took me back in time where I used to board the train merely for the reason of hearing bhajans. The memories forced me to write this blog, again proving the significance of music and the time at which it came.

Long live the Buaas and Indian Idols from the Mumbai local trains!

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