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Ganesh Chatruti !! My word !

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I had to publish this today. Now ! I gave my word, just an hour ago. To a policeman. And i am already late !

We are just back from visarjan. The 10 day long Ganesh Chaturti festival is through. Infact, its still happening, as i write this. And Mumbai celebrated it. In style ! The elephant God indeed has some fans !

Any festivity is a mood that i love to soak up . Whichever city. Mingle with the people. And watch life, as people go by. Or perhaps, watch people, as life goes by.

Here at the Powai lake, crowds jostled to take a closer look at the immersions. And seek blessings. I got better access than most others.

With T-shirt, camera, shorts and sandals, i guess, i must have looked like a TV journo indeed ! For, there he was, a friendly cop. Who asks me, “which TV channel are your from!?!”

And seeing my surprise, modifies his question : ‘Ok, which newspaper ? Where will you publish all these pictures ? When will you publish the pictures ?”

I clear my throat. I tell him, Having this blog in mind, “This will be published on the Internet”. He continues to stare into me. And i add, ‘in half an hour’.

He perhaps had visions of ‘Breaking News’ and thought of himself to be a facilitator of such news. And waved me in. I was free to click !

I walked in. Beaming. Only to realise there already was a motley crew. Presumably from newspapers. For they had bigger and far more sophisticated cameras. Some tourists. And some other junta like me.. All clicking away.

So here are images. But they sure are not going to send in the images, like what i am doing now ! At this speed, that is !! That’s for sure.

‘Breaking News : Immersions happen in Powai Lake. As well’.

They have those huge cranes, that lift off the Ganpati idols that are brought in trucks. Taken to a deeper part of the lake and ‘immersed’ ! Its an an awesome sight.

The crowd, the trucks, the electric mood, the food, the noise, the lights, and of course, the policemen. Offer a unique Mosaic which is quite something. Indeed.

Here are some pictures.


Hmm. So, there. Thats Visarjan in Powai for you. I can sleep well. The word given to that policeman, is kept !

Regular posting, ofcourse, will resume shortly !

Clean Sweep

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Once upon a time, there lived a man. Who was very successful in navigation and commerce. But was deceitful and killed travelers and guests. And such else.

The great Gods in punishment made him roll a boulder up a hill. But the boulder would always roll down before he could reach the top of the hill. And he had to start all over again.

This chap called Sisyphus and Sisyphean tasks need no introduction. We live our work lives don’t we ? Sisyphean…is this work of sweeping our streets. Here are pictures clicked at very different places.


The lady was in Mahabaleshwar. There she was. Poignant. Persistent. And attentive. To the last speck of garbage on road. She collected all of it and kept it in a small basket. And walked away. Ofcourse, she didnt bother about the dog that cames along and sniffed the basket. And whatever it did from there on.


Cut to scene 2:


Mumbai. Closer home.

The man sweeps mud and dust off the road. There is a whole lot which flies off and settles on other side of the road. And perhaps when he sweeps from that side, will fly and settle on this side. He gathers whatever he gathers and tosses it into a big container in the tractor behind him. A whole lot of dust drifts aimlessly. Settling wherever it can.

Cut.



Scene 3:

Madurai.

A man with a fluorescent jacket is at work. With a shoe on leg. Collecting a heap of mud to to create another heap. In some time, an ants version of Mt. Everest forms ! He moves on.

A bus passes by. The gust from the passing bus, reduces Mt.Everest to a hillock. He doesn’t care. He is creating another Mt.Everest. Many more. Everyday.


Scene 4:

As i am typing this, there is a set of people on TV. Debating election results. And what it means for the country. Loud men & women they are. With some numbers and fancy graphs in the background. They make intelligent sounding points. They definitely seem to have sound.

I hear them talking of ‘Clean sweep in Bihar’ ‘Clean sweep in ….’ ! Occassionally, they are mumbling something about some ‘fundamental change’ that needs to be ushered in. That makes me wonder if they are replaying the last election’s analysis.

But with that ‘fundamental change’ point : I am all excited. We need to bring in fundamental change.

Ofcourse, I am talking of sweeping here!

Breaking News.

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A dramatic event occurred in Santa Cruz, Mumbai today.  
This is an exclusive coverage on 

LMNOP Digital HIgh Speed blah blah TV 365 X 365 !

( For most accurate experiencing of this, please read with dramatisation, ‘correct’ pronounciation and gestures bordering on hysteria. OK ? Or just flick that TV remote on and settle for a news channel )

At around 1.00 PM, when the temperature was reported to be hovering around 40 degree, sirens pierced the afternoon air. Heads turned. People stopped doing whatever they were doing. The others peeped through the windows. Those that had a window for the door and the sky for the roof, squinted to see what the fuss was about. 


A fire engine appeared.  True to form, stopped some distance away. There has been intense debate about ‘fire in the belly’ for politicians.  And perhaps some one called for a fire tender !


And then, in some time our crew found a crow whose wing had gotten entangled to string,  struggling to free itself. This perhaps was a string that was used to fly a kite some time back. For all its flaps, the bird  got further entangled. 

The firemen demurred. And got to work.  A crowd gathered. Everybody looked up into the sky. And some genuinely surprised that all this ado is about a crow.  Others very happy that someone took the step of calling the firemen at the plight of the crow. 

An old lady who lived in the house next door steps out spoke to us. ( Camera Pans ) 

‘Oh, I thought, someone in our building committed suicide’.  She continued, ‘last week, a tree fell in my backyard. I called the firemen. Nobody turned up. Now they have come for the crow’ ! She said. 

And then, looked into the sky at the crow and its struggle to break free, and said, ‘poor thing’ while walking away.  

There are three hundred and twenty two people  in the crowd. And suddenly, a parcel of crows arrived on the scene. All crowing madly.  

Its the peak afternoon heat. And it was getting to everybody. The firemen. The onlookers. The neighbours. And the crow that was hanging in the balance. 

To cut a long story short, the crow was rescued. And the firemen walked away with the crow ! And someone in the crowd shouted, ‘go send it to Maneka Gandhi‘. Someone else said, ‘this is what the firemen are trained to do. Catch crows’.  

In the meanwhile the parcel of crows that were there, have flown in the direction of the first minister that they can sight for a ‘fly-in crowing dharna’. Unconfirmed sources also state that they are reported to be on the look out for slippers. The public are requested to watch out for them. 

The crows were unavailable for comment. We will be staying on course to update you on the latest on this epic crow saga. 

If you liked this story send an SMS to 39492384234 typing ‘YES’. If otherwise type ‘NO’. In anycase, 77.8 % have already voted that they liked this story. This is exclusive breaking news that you are First seeing here. Stay tuned to get updated.

Such news of national existential importance can be tracked on our website as well. 24 hours a day 365 days a year. We will be the first to deliver… ! 

This story will continue to be breaking news until the next crow gets entangled, the cow drinks Coke, the giraffe trips over an electric pole, the local politician speaks his natural game or if nothing else materialises, perhaps until some wisecrack stays off rice. 
 

Dreams of my teacher !

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After a long tired day, the bed was inviting enough for a short nap. The TV with some news was on.

But, I went in for a ‘power nap’. Where i tend to sleep like a log. For 15 minutes. Today, i have a dream. Perhaps it would be far more stately to say, ‘I too have a dream’.

And in it, is Ms. Rozario. A Nursery school teacher from my school days. There she is. Bright. Beautiful. And very much the ‘Anglo Indian Miss’ of the olden days. With a gown, cut hair and an Anglo-Indian accent. She waltzes as she sings nursery rhymes.

But surprise. Surprise. In front of her, today are Television reporters. Each with microphone, camera, OB vans and a placard saying ‘Breaking News’ held aloft. Permanently.

Today, all reporters like dutiful children sucking a TRP laden lollipop, sing rhymes. In good chorus.

They all sing.

Little Jack Horner sat in a corner,
Eating a Christmas pie;
He put in his thumb and pulled out a plum,
And said, “What a good boy am I!”

[Applause].

They stop. And the natural instinct for the reporters emerges. And out come the questions : “Who are you referring to ? Is it this the new Chief Minister ? What was this Christmas Pie ? Which corner was he sitting in ? Why do you call him ‘little’ ? Is Jack Horner his operative name… ?

Ms. Rozario, with all dismissive earnestness begins another nursery rhyme. All reporters with cameras rolling, are in tow. As she leads the group, they all sing.

I’m a little teapot
Short and stout
Here is my handle
Here is my spout

When I get all steamed up
Hear me shout:
Tip me over
and pour me out!

[Laughter]. [Applause].

‘Ma’am, ma’am’ they all shout, ‘is this Mr..’ I cant hear the name, for Ms. Rozario has already begun the next rhyme.

Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall.
Humpty Dumpty had a great fall.
All the king’s horses and all the king’s men
Couldn’t put Humpty together again

‘Ma’am, is this about the other chap who quit blaming his conscience ? Or was it the chap who sent in his resignation, just in case….?’

The brave bold woman she is, she keeps on with it. ‘Quiet. Quiet’. She says.

With a wave of a hand and a dance of an expert, she continues with her rhyme ! Almost immediately, all reporters start singing rhymes into their microphone. Mesmarisingly easy. [She beats the Director General of the National Security Guard, hands down…]

They sing.

Baa, baa black sheep
Have you any wool
Yes sir, yes sir
Three bags full.

One for my master
And one for my dame
And one for the little boy
Who lives down the lane.

She stops. And commotion reigns supreme. Each reporter climbs over one another. Almost immediately i realise all channels are running ‘Breaking News’ scrolls !

“Ma’am, whats in those bags ? And three of them ? Who is the master ? And that little boy..and the dame…in that lane…? You surely are not referring to..?

I woke up at that exact moment. So. Who the reporters had in mind, i leave to my conjecture. I will have to leave it at that.

Customary Disclaimer : All characters in this dream are fictitious. Any resemblance to any character, alive or dead, in power or otherwise, are purely imaginary and coincidental.

Save, Ms. Rozario. And of course, the nursery rhymes.