MJ & ND

The news of Michael Jackson’s death did not affect me much. Of course it’s sad he died, it’s sad when anyone dies. Well he was great, i suppose. He had it, he definitely had it. World famous. An icon. A king in his own right. They said he had it all—talent, grace, professionalism and dedication. A great success since childhood and into middle age. No one could undermine that. He had taken the world by storm. In his heyday, the late nineties, it was almost impossible to watch a news channel without seeing him. He was omnipresent in the media world.

But i just wasn’t one of his fans. When i first heard him singing ‘Bad’—here i’m not denying his skill—it just irritated me. I simply didn’t like his voice or his stuff, never really watched him dance. Perhaps that’s why i didn’t feel anything as such when he died, for all his name, fame and following.

On the same day that the king of pop died, an 84 year old woman died quietly of cancer in a corner of Mumbai. This death affects me more, much more. She’s neither my relative nor my friend. I had not talked to her even once, though i once saw her at a function.

Neera Desai, whom my boss affectionately calls ‘Neeraben’ was a person who did her bit to uplift the downtrodden and underprivileged. She was a pioneer of women’s studies in India. She had set up the country’s first research centre for women’s studies at SNDT Women’s University and wrote several books on women’s issues. She was especially concerned about dalit and tribal women.

I’m going to miss ND more than MJ, although he and i share the same initials!

flute player

at the station
sweltering heat
milling crowd
engines roaring
loudspeakers blaring.

a soft sweet sound
bringing to mind
cool mountain breezes
green pine forests
rippling brooks
youthful dreams.

i searched
wading in the crowd
and found him
stark blind
gray haired
creased care worn face
a rupee coin in a bowl
making music
on a flute

tears stung my eyes.
does one who gives such delight
get so little?

i gave him a note
and listened on
dreaming of
grassy hillsides
singing winds
dancing streams
and happier times.

at andheri

shoulder to shoulder
bumper to bumper
bodies jammed

crammed
inch crawl
slug rush
rush rush slug
the train! the train!

masses of flesh
wriggle squirm
hurry burry
hurry scurry
scurry scurry
oh the train!

masses masses
no faces
yeh hai mumbai
meri jaan!

life journey

our life’s journey
is a forward move
never we retrace our steps
never we visit
the same place twice.

though the path may wind
even to loops
within view of where we’ve been
we don’t set foot again
where we did before.

we move on, move on
not pausing, not relenting,
towards
eternity.

Ah, books!

I belong to the generation that grew up before TVs were quite accessible in our country. Those days, we got most of our info-tainment from reading. There were occasional excursions to the cinema hall too, but these were very rare treats. So the great rage was comic books and novels, circulated widely among friends and strangers.

Nothing could compare to the pleasure of reading ‘School girl’, ‘Western’ and ‘Classic’ comics on the way back from school. Parents frowned upon reading anything other than school lessons, so it had to be done when they couldn’t see you. Novels had to be hidden under pillows and read on the sly. Oh, the half guilty thrill one got out of Ivanhoe and The Black Arrow at age 14! Such magical experiences!

When my daughter was six and in class one, she asked, “After finishing school, do we have to go to college?”

“What else do you want to do?” i counter questioned.

“Stay home and read stories,” she replied.

I do connect with the sentiment.

Once you enter adulthood with all its responsibilities, finding time to read becomes harder than ever. Several weeks ago, after dithering a long time, i picked up Shantaram. I’ve reached only half of it till now.

When it takes so long to read it, how much time and energy it would take to write! No wonder the author spent thirteen long years at it.

My little book has come out at last. It has only 189 pages with the photos and all. But it took me nearly a year to finish. It often felt like hard work as i tapped on the keyboard at midnight, bleary eyed, after a full day at office. And i’m glad, so glad, that it’s ready for reading now.

It’s published by GLS Publishing, Udyog Bhavan, 250-D, Worli Colony, Mumbai 400 030, india. They can be contacted by e-mail: glsindia@vsnl.com or by phone: 022 2493 0116/6662 7243.
Here’s it’s cover picture.

My funny friends

La tops the list, easily. When computers started becoming popular in our Northeast region, she took to it with gusto. Later, when i got my own machine, La would e-mail me frequently. But, believe it or not, that also increased the frequency of phone calls! “Check your mail, i just sent you one,” she’d say over the phone. And then in a long conversation, narrate all that she wrote.

La’s response to most suggestions is ‘Why not?’ “Come, let’s go swimming,” she invited me one day. “No, you’ll float like a fairy and i’ll sink like a stone,” i replied. “Why not?” she quipped.

And when her husband bought a new car, she kept the older car. “Next time you come to Shillong, i’ll take you out in the car. I’ve learned to drive,” she promised. But added, “i can drive only forward, i haven’t learnt to go backward yet.” She daily drives to work moving only forward.

Puja is another one. She gave us direction to the new office in Dahisar when we were shifting from Andheri. She drew on a paper as she explained. “Get down at Dahisar station, come out on the west, cross to the east through the subway, walk towards the left and at the forking take the right,” she told us. “And keep going, keep going (jaate raho, jaate raho). When you see a restaurant on the right, ask for Patel Apartment. They’ll show you the direction. Aur jaate raho, jaate raho…”

By this time we were quite put off. We had been told that the office was close to the station and this endless jaate raho was becoming discouraging. “It sounds very far!” some of us exclaimed. “Not far, only five minutes,” she assured us. And then continued, “After some time, you will see a bank. Ask around there, and they’ll say ‘aur aage jaao.’ Go on, jaate raho, jaate raho….”

When would we ever reach? The walk felt like at least half an hour from her description. But it’s actually about eight minutes at a normal stride.

Of late, the office computers have been having problems. Puja thinks she can coax her machine to behave by sweet-talking it. She would press the start button, do a namaste to the monitor calling it sweet names like “mere bhaya, mere lal.” It works sometimes!

Manik, another colleague, is a shy, quiet guy. But i’ve learnt about his secret passion: living creatures, especially those that home in water. The other day he showed me pictures of his new beautiful acquisition—a dragon fish from china. What i find funny about this friend is, he always refers to each fish as ‘he’, never ‘it’. Can’t blame him, though, the creatures are so close to his heart.

I too confided to him that i christened my computers. Now, some people think that funny! The moral: When you think others funny, remember that others may think you funny too!

Who is Dr. Lizette D'Souza?

‘Who is Dr. Lizette D’Souza?’ is one of the questions on Wiki Answers. Well, she is a scientist working in NIO (National Institute of Oceanography), Dona Paula, Goa. She heads the Bio-organic Chemistry group that conducts research on drug development. A colleague and i went to interview her on 25th March.

Despite our former President Dr. Kalam’s reputation, i always pictured scientists as made mostly of brain cells. Reading stories (mostly fictional) of crazy science professors conducting weird experiments doesn’t help in dispelling the image either. So it was with some awe and apprehension that i went to meet Dr. Lizette. But after spending a couple of hours with her, that idea has taken an about turn.

Though she certainly is brainy and has scientific achievements to her credit, she is very human. Like any of us, she has her struggles. Career, home, and other responsibilities bug her too. She daily travels 30 Kms to work and back. She had to bring up two daughters. She managed without a full time maid.

How did she overcome the great challenges? She has a truly supportive husband. He too was a scientist working in the same Institute. But when their children were born, he resigned and started his own business near home, so he could be close to the children. He’s a great cook too. He encouraged his wife to continue with her work. A great man, don’t you think?

Because in our country, it’s the woman who’s always expected to make sacrifices. To leave her job. To see to the home. Do all the house chores. It would seem that a majority of men think that their wives live to serve them. Not the other way round. But there are rare, refreshing exceptions. It’s good to see some husbands (mine included), working to bring out the best in their wives.