I’ve been feeling very down, said Hemant. With his oblangly long ears, his squarish face with a pale skin as he set his gaze upon the lonesome beer jug sitting smugly in front of him, it’s moisture lightly staining the wood on which it sat.
Kya huan yaar, his friend says to him. The words fly through Hemant as rain filled clouds pass by a desert in all their lonesome.
“It will be allright. It’s just a few years and then we’d be the kings of the universe” he exclaims.
“No!” Hemant screams.
“Nothing of that sort happens in this version of the world. Very poetic you sound sir,
Life is traveling from point a to point B. Whatever comes in between is just survival” said Hemant.
“How is that so?” his friend asks.
“People live with a false bravado that they will conquer the world but let me tell you my friend,
Have you ever heard of the scene where a treat is hung on a stick and it’s kept just out of reach of the sledge dog, so he keeps running just to get at it” said Hemant.
“Let me give you another example, have you ever questioned why a pack of sledge dogs continue running with no end in sight with such vigor and discipline?The only thing pushing them forward is the quest for being the alpha. Similarly the alpha always wants to remain an alpha so he continues running in front, leading them. This endless compitition makes everyone strive harder and harder.
“Isn’t that good for us? As a species? We all as a race would move forward?” his friend asks
“It’s a veil sir!” Hemant exclaims.
‘You’ll be long dead till you see anything good come out of it. And so will your grandchild after toiling in the sun desperate to stay alive in a continuous mud slide of dreams and aspirations.
All nations need to be one. We all need to strive together rather than against one another. We all need to look in the same direction like a magnet does.
We are but tiny minuscules. We all fight amongst ourselves to try to get fatter. Until we are the fattest in the whole world. Then what if you become the fattest?
You top the leader board. Oh let’s clap for this fellow for soon there will be an even fatter fatling ready to throw you off your mighty chair! You need to understand the vastness of this world my friend and then you will understand the world as it is. A whirlpool sucking us all into endless oblivion.
And what’s at the centre of this whirlpool? Infinite nothing. Or maybe a God. Waiting to measure you all over again to decide your value. Hell or heaven? If that’s the final test you look forward to, then do forget the minor tests and serve. But if you don’t then please go roam around with a knife so that none may try to climb over you to reach the surface. Saying so Hermant storms off into the night.
He saw the birds as they flew in circles around his window. Stupid creatures he mumbled to himself as he turned away. He closed the window and just as he did he heard a flutter. Dammit! That bird has entered the balcony again he shouted out.
After months of shooing the birds and moving heaven and hell to get the damn creatures of his balcony, he finally decided. He was going to be the captain Nemo of his tiny house which he inherited from his parents a couple of years back. It was a very nice beach shack right next to the beach. You could see the waves lash and break on the rocks right out the window. There was a constant sound of water on his walls which for a tourist might be the best thing that ever happened to them but to him it was the world’s worst curse. He had set up a dreamcatcher in his only window which faced away from the sea which his girlfriend had gifted him. She stuck around for a few months then seeing he’s going nowhere, she went along just as female leopard do. But minus a childling. Which he felt very happy about but extremely sober at the same time. He carefully took the cigarette out of his burnt lips and put it out on the indoor sill. He carefully aimed the stub and the bird trying to make its way inside his tiny balcony and flicked it at its general direction. The stub was way of Mark and with a lifeless flutter fell down on the pile of earlier stubs each with their own some failed and some missed targets.
Goddammit! He cursed furiously as the bird casually looked down on him.
Hey humans. Today I’m writing about how Hollywood has in one way or another influenced our lives.
The simple fall of the fabric to a plush carpet in Mob influenced movies to the ridiculous laugh riot in Comedy movies. To the eye opening stands taken by playwrights in serious testament movies to the stupid, crazy no plot almost unfounded flicks.
In one way or another they have swayed our motion pictures.
I recall viewing those classical flicks on the telly with my grandma. She used to concoct food all morning so she could relax and watch a Bollywood film in the afternoon.
The very reason afternoons were such significant times because that was the time my grandfather went to sleep. So my granny could do as she pleased.
Jump on the sofa, roll around on the floor. Fly around in a cat suit. Well that’s besides the point now. So she starts cooking lunch at around 10 am. Gosh that is early. Around that time I just manage to open my eyes to scratch my ass man. The whole house gets packed up with smoke coming from the kitchen,
All those Indian Masala’s assaulting your very survival. Thank god for the marvelous Shimla waft that takes all the smoke away. So the foods done, the telly is set up, the house is spotless, the Dhobi guy has come and gone. Everything is ready as she wanted it for the film to start. So finally, comes the stretch when the movie airs.
Frankly speaking I love classical Bollywood movies. They had their own dramatics and their own charisma. The mom crying for her child on the temple steps. All you say while watching it is, hey lady can you get up and cry in your own secluded household. Your Jedi force is making all the bells ring in this temple man.
But the very act at how her crying is directly comparative to the actor’s good fortune is noteworthy. It’s like a math’s formulae. You remember how rock beats scissor and scissor beats paper. Kind of the same except if your mother went and cried on the temple steps and mind you, with all the bells ringing away like titanic sailing off on its maiden voyage. Well that tops it.
You’re imperishable. INDISTRUCTII MAN is here folks.
His mamma cries for him. He is undefeatable. Yeah so that happens. I am actually very candidly saying, I loved this shit. I loved all those hysterics. Kind of made me the attention seeking disorder that I am.
So we watch the movie while she sews a sweater or she cuts some potatoes. With me happily munching on some snacks or falling asleep to the hum of a Bollywood movie. That defined our afternoons. But it’s a different epoch now. Much swayed by far-off forces. We see Amir Khan who was better known for his boyish expressions and his frank demeanor playing a villain zooming off on a bike. This was not part of our cinema. The entertainment industry has radically changed the past few years. The once peaceful foreseeable plots which we really liked have changed to surprises and twists. The main antagonist takes off a mask to reveal another altogether. The drama has changed into cheap thrills. We rate movies at how noble the stunts are. It’s no longer for the art of the movie but it’s for raking in the cash.
But as India grows up as a country and we start shaking off all the cultural domination that we underwent in the colonial rule, I am very sure we would end up creating something dreamlike. We have already tried and we shall again.
Hey Humans. Sorry, I still haven’t come to terms that I’m not a Martian, please bear with me. So this blog post is all about Mumbai local trains and the tiny details and stories that happen within it.
I have toured in numerous cities but it’s Mumbai that makes me confounded. It is far behind on public infrastructure then many other cities but yet it accomplishes to attract millions of folks at every given point of time. And people end up loving residing here.
I personally felt better staying in Mumbai than in any other city. Mumbai is like a huge bubble, people come into it and get hectic in life, No one is idle here. Every person is out here functioning their ass of. So coming back to the main area, I travel on the Mumbai local trains every working day. It’s my main commute to my workstation.
So this very much regular day, I woke up to the alarm on my phone. Turned it off and mentally made a note to fling the fucking alarm across the room the next day. Well that’s another story completely. Let’s not dwell into my delicate relationships with ,my alarm clock man !
So I get up, a lazy beast that I am, going to the mirror, checking if my dick hasn’t wrinkled off and start brushing.
I put the toothpaste on my brush and periodically rubbed it on my teeth. That almost turned you on didn’t ya? It’s just my teeth pumpkin. Chill yourself out. So I put on some eggs on the stove and look at the cosmos about me.
Crap! I thought, I forgot to put the bread in the fridge. Doesn’t matter I thought to myself, its brown bread. Won’t even fucking come to know when it gets spoiled! I looked to the other end of the kitchen. A huge pile of utensils. Dang I thought. If I wasn’t that lazy right now, I would have washed them in a jiffy. Soon I had an egg sandwich in my hand, grabbed my helmet from a mountain of filth and grasped the lock. When you have been liberated for so long as I have, You have this disposition to feel your ass just before you leave your abode.
Don’t get me wrong, it’s just for my wallet.
People judge way too fast in this life man. It was healthier on my home planet. So I someway accomplished to grab the lock, the helmet, my sling bag, switch off the lights, and shut the door. Crap, I thought who’s going to lock the door now? The helmet goes.
The helmet crashed to the floor as I locked the front door and headed out.
I reached the parking. There are thousands of people who have two wheelers just like me. We guys drive to the nearby station and take the train to work. But these thousands of people have awesome two wheelers. My inamorata on the other hand needs to throw some demonstrative crap at me for not covering her from rain last night. She doesn’t get my excuse that well,
I’m too lazy for your ass honey.
So after a measured dialogue with her she finally starts. That did require me to kick start her. But what am I saying. I love her. If she reads this I’m screwed.
Well anyways, I drive to the station, get a ticket, and see the screen for train updates.
Well there’s one on Platform 1. I run to catch it while producing whistling noises or sometimes hissing or smacking noises, well that’s what people do here in Mumbai if you want to alert somebody that you are ready to crash into the creature if he or she doesn’t move.
So I find the train but its crowded as fuck. I quickly remember the bulletin in my mind map. There’s one on platform 4 running 7 minutes from now. So thanking my god given remembrance I run up to the over bridge. Well the over bridg serves many purposes here in Mumbai. Firstly it’s a home for a couple of destitute people. They have their own ass parking spots where they sit begging for money. And since giving alms has reduced to a lot of extent, their industry is affected. But they don’t care. They are home. Let the others say whatever the fuck they want to. I recollect this ancient lady. She’s always sitting at the same step every day. I decided to observe her actions over a couple of days. I noticed she always put the first coin in her bowl , just to get the things started I thought. But then I noticed that at the end of my shift, when I’m returning home she still has not more five coins more than what she started with.
I needed to think now, put all the hours that I devoted to watching cop movies and Sherlock to use.
I finally came to the conclusion that she was an FBI agent in India to spy on the populace. But then she defected to the KGB through the MOSSAD channels.
Satisfied with my deductions I’ll carry on.
So I reach the platform as soon as the train is pulling in. Instantaneously every Tom, Dick, and Harry clamors in. Even though there are millions of uninhabited seats inside, all want to run whistling and hissing their way in. There was this teenage girl I recall. She fucking boxed me on my kidney to get in. I hissed in protest but she had already got in. What happened afterword’s was surely what she deserved? I got in a full 2 minutes after I had attended to the devastation of my body organs and ended up sitting comfortably in front of her.
There you go. You boxed me, and you gained crap. Sucker.
I had this All Knowing Gandhi Smile on my face till I reached my stop. Thoroughly enjoying every second of her awkwardness. So I reached my workplace. Just to get ready to leave 6 hours later.
Living in Mumbai isn’t tough. People are tremendously kind, Very devout and hardworking. You see everyone and notice every man jack and decide that life is all about work, work and work. Mumbai is and will always persist to be a city of dreams for all that come to it.
An idea? what is it? Does it inspire you or does it ,in the end only let you down? An idea can manifest your brain in a million ways. It can be like an insect drilling inside your brain and continuously gnawing your mind, or it can be like a a flash and then gone ,disappeared in the realm of nothingness. What i perceive of an idea is that it is a continuously evolving form of material which should continuously inspire you to think new ideas. An imagination can become an idea as fast as you can say it. Rutherford imagined he would see atoms in the thinnest gold foil. what was that? Imgination? what did it transpire into? an idea to put gold foil and bombard it with electrons. Bohr imagined he was eating a plum pudding and thus what transpired was one of the most idiotic peice of theory which is still taught in scientific institutions worldwide because it actually helps us to connect that stairway of an evolution of an imagination into an idea.
I am sure everybody knows what a benzene ring is? It is a actually six carbon atoms bonded together with single hydrogen bonds with molecular formula C6H6. This we all know but the what actually happened was a dream.August Kekule’s somnolent vision of a snake biting its tail, a dream that supposedly revealed the true structure of the benzene ring to the German chemist.. This was famously known as the dream analysis. Isnt this fabulous? The way that an imagination transpires into an idea and an idea actually transcends into a theory and becomes something resourceful.
Imagination is more important than knowledge. For knowledge is limited to all we now know and understand, while imagination embraces the entire world, and all there ever will be to know and understand.”
We all know who said this.
But the main problem here is that imagination does not always lead into ideas and does not at all costs give us a bread to it. What we have to do is to find a perfect balance between imagination and reality. This is a very difficult balance to achieve and i am still and i know for sure and will always be trying for. Rest is upto you guys. DO you think i am right? Or what i say is right? think?
Homelessness describes the condition of people without a regular dwelling. People who are homeless are most often unable to acquire and maintain regular, safe, secure, and adequate housing, or lack “fixed, regular, and adequate night-time residence
Increased wealth disparity and income inequality causes distortions in the housing market that push rent burdens higher, making housing unaffordable. Due to such an influx of people from the villages to the cities the capacity of the city is tested. People do not get lawful access to get shelters above their heads. These leads to people becoming homeless. In 2005, an estimated 100 million people worldwide were homeless.
These issues describe part of the landscape, but people who are homeless and the people who are helping them know that homelessness is about so much more than housing. People often become homeless when their housing and economic issues collide with other crisis such as domestic violence, physical or mental illness, addiction, transition into adulthood, and relational strains. Up to half of homeless women and children are victims of domestic violence. Robbed of their own financial and emotional resources, women with violent partners sometimes must choose between being abused at home and becoming homeless. Women who leave with their children are survivors, but even in the safety of a shelter, rebuilding, gaining stability, and establishing a healthy network of relationships takes time. The myriad issues surrounding poverty and homelessness create major relational strains. People exhaust their personal interactions in the same way they exhaust their financial resources. By the time a person is living on the streets, camping, or staying in a shelter their relationships are damaged, adding loneliness to their other problems. A simple offer of companionshipcan be a significant starting place in helping a person to recover from being homeless. Entering a shelter, seeking mental health treatment, applying for help with housing—these can be daunting tasks. Walking with someone, believing in them, encouraging them, and listening can give them strength to address problems in other zones of their life.
Before I go on to later describe the events that transpire while you undertake on a journey between two huge metropolis let me first say this and say this clearly. I WAS NOT TRAVELLING ILLEGALY. By this I mean I can very easily be thrown off at any station but this is largely not the case unless you are a complete berserk of a person and don’t know how to take care of yourself. It all started with a simple assurance of a friend. Don’t worry the tickets are booked and we are all ready to go, otherwise we all would have never considered to go by train at all. Then came hopefulness, we could have easily shelled out cash for a flight to Mumbai but hope prevailed and even the slightest of optimism for a train ticket which will help us save money made us hang on to the thread of hope. It is normal human tendency to anticipate for the best. As I type this I am almost certainly sitting on a casket with my friend sleeping on top of it and one more friend napping on the higher berth also on top of the same casket, and one friend has gone AWOL since dawn. I will leave it to you esteemed readers to figure out how many people are with me.
It is like a bubble, a wave and once it breaks the world changes for that diminutive starfish which ran aground on the beach and also for you. You start witnessing the world rather than dynamically taking part in it.
There are countless types of individuals in this domain. We belong to the type which journeys by ticket. But this time we did not and from now on we may be a part of the type of people who don’t. Did this revolutionize anything for me? NO. I have travelled many a times by the general class but never without a ticket. Travelling on local trains without a ticket is fine but travelling from Delhi to Mumbai is not a joke.
As soon as we got on, we instantaneously figure out we need to hang on to the space near the toilet. This was prime real estate. A place to dump your bags and create a castle for yourself. Remember blanket fort? Well kind of the same. But near the toilet.. And on a moving train.
So we soon get settled in. A fellow was kind enough to make a pleasurable talk with us and how he was likewise travelling just like us. He had a job interview in Mumbai and he had to hurry. This made me comprehend that we all live in this make- believe realm, where we believe things happen in a definite way. Well, they don’t, and everyday millions of people deal with it. He had a smart bluish ironed shirt. All buttoned up, clean-shaven and hair combed back. It was apparent he had irritated an Elvis bang but his hair appeared too short to realize the coup. He had a perfect row of teeth on him and he looked pleasant. He stashed his bag under the sink and settled down with us………..