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::The Journey::
7 years ago
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Lot of things happening on a busy weekend.
Try as I might, the 8:30 a.m. alarm fails to separate me and Sameera Reddy (voted as the fittest actress in Bollywood), who is hell bent on acting with me in her next movie called “Maanav bana Daanav” where I am supposed to be the protagonist.
It became a lot tougher this weekend, when the only source of “awakening” was the doorbell which I think played all the nursery rhymes from “jack and Jill” to “ Three blind mice” before the battery ran out.
Dreamy eyed, and still chased by Sameera, I managed to peep out of the door with my disheveled looks only to find a stranger, who looked as tough as Mike Tyson, which made me realize I had not made my credit card payment on the due date.
Luckily, he happened to be one of the residents of the colony and had come to cordially invite some “senior” member of the house to attend the General Body Meeting to discuss issues of grass root level importance.
Since I did not have anything better to do other than watching “Ramgarh ka Sholay” on “FILMY”, which comprised of look alikes of popular actors, rendering a different touch to the original movie, I decided to have a first hand impression of what happens in a GBM.
After scouting around as to where the health center existed in the township where I stay ( that was where the meeting was scheduled and I had never been to the “health” center before), I gingerly entered the hall which more resembled an improved version of a local panchayat. The elderly formed the core group with all uncles forming the second rung of defence. A Lot of issues ranged, prime among which were the following:
• A concrete plan on celebrating Holi
• Annulling the extra membership fee of Rs 200 for using the health center
• A core committee to conduct free and fair elections for posts within the Association
• A beautifully worded ”Angreji” letter on action against the present management member Mr. “U” for having misbehaved with the ladies (don’t let imaginations run wild : Mr. U had apparently put up his hands when a “lady” had requested him to carry 20 kilos of her vegetables home).
• A point on bringing the Ganga river water into all our households
The last point was something we could do without, if we did not want our final immersion to happen immediately in the same water.
However, the uncles around this place are a little hot headed and some “almost old losing all hair” uncle took what the “rimmed glasses but all grey hair” uncle’s comments on the working of the local body, as a personal remark.
Though most exchanges happened in chaste Hindi,( not my type which aligns itself to the Mumbaiyya ishtyle), but nonetheless it was much fun.
Eventually, most issues were resolved and the “health center” was thrown open to all till such a time the management reverts on the membership fee.
People like me have accepted this offer with glee, since I first need to know if my current Olive Oyle structure can be changed to match that of Arnold Shivajinagar (whatever that dude’s name is :p) before I actually start paying for something that may be beyond reach.Meanwhile I have been re-united with a game that has graduated from me playing the same with tumblers and ladles as nets on the dining table to a standard Table Tennis court.
Bikes and Sports run deep as passions for most “bachelors” I am told.*wink*
And while I explore what faciltities the health center has in store, separating me from Sameera Reddy should probably become much easier now!
I could well have cltr C’ed and cltr V’ed the previous post into this one but for the fact that the airline this time around was Kingfisher and the dates were two weeks post the last trip. But yes, I am back in Mumbai on work in less than a fortnight and that’s a surprise to me as well, since my last consecutive visits to this city spanned an interval of a good four years.
I am not complaining, and Bombay, if I may call it, has always remained special since I spent my childhood here.
This visit got with it the chance to catch up with good old DK from school whose comments you generally find peppered around the blog. It had been a long 7.5 years and I was as eager to meet him as Ganguly was to get his first 50 post his cricket “vanvas”.
DK mentioned about VB who was acting in a play[more on that later in the post] and what more than a city like Mumbai and a comedy play, for three school friends to meet up and discuss how the world has transformed while they got busy with their chosen paths in life.
Me and DK planned to meet up for this play titled “When the pythons followed the actors” - an adaptation of a plot by the British Comedy troupe “Monty Python”. Staged at Rang Sharada Auditorium in Bandra (W), the play promised to be a nice refresher but the prime motivation to watch the play was that VB happened to be part of the production. Also, it was about time I caught up with the stage world for two main reasons - The last live play I watched was “Snow White and the seven dwarfs” when I was a toddler in class 1 and being a stage artist myself, theatre was something I always longed to witness.
I managed to wade through the snail paced Mumbai traffic in an auto rickshaw that moved as fast as a file in a government department and eventually completed the journey in slightly less than an hour. DK as usual was delayed and reached after I did. 7.5 years had made him heftier, meaner and boy, has he done away with those giant sized spectacles. The tickets were picked up by DK which included one for another colleague of his and he modestly declined re-imbursement considering the fact that he works for an MNC which encourages employees treating school buddies from other cities. I however made it clear I would not be available in Delhi the next time DK comes visiting. The least I could do was sponsor tea for the three of us and we suddenly realized we were sipping away at tea costing 20 bucks for 100 ml. like aristocratic princes of the British Raj.
The main plot of the play revolved around a stage artist who has the worst nightmare of his lifetime in that he has forgotten his lines right when the play is supposed to begin and is looking for cues from all possible sources to salvage the situation.
The sets best describe the way our protagonist is transported from one play to another almost like a striker across the carom board, and while the rest of his troupe know what exactly his role play is, he seems to suffer from amnesia.
The dialogues well reflect the mood of the moment, with most of the setting in erstwhile medieval Europe, and London being the frame of reference. The choice of characters is quite good and the fresh blood does bring in the much required agility which many scenes demand. The accents range from the stiff upper lipped Queen’s language to the typical French English with the Zi fer zhevry senor. The hero maintains a neutral English accent akin to “Ali” of Pakistani origin in the famed series “Mind your Language”.
The team which calls themselves Version One dot Oh! has its roots in Bangalore and is a mix of about 10 actors spanning the software industry, students and a couple of full time professionals.
I shall not dwell into the specifics of the plot lest I contribute to the lack of audience for their next performance. They may not have conformed to all the rules of “Bharat Muni’s ” “Natya Shastra” [Bharat Muni was the father of traditional Sanskrit Dramas and had laid down stage rules] but, for a group that is just three years young and performs to packed audiences in Bangalore, which also doubles up as one of the prime fund contributors to a local NGO, this was quite a remarkable effort.
Good show guys. Keep it up.
A couple of pics of the team, plus the three musketeers in front of the audi.
I am not complaining, and Bombay, if I may call it, has always remained special since I spent my childhood here.
This visit got with it the chance to catch up with good old DK from school whose comments you generally find peppered around the blog. It had been a long 7.5 years and I was as eager to meet him as Ganguly was to get his first 50 post his cricket “vanvas”.
DK mentioned about VB who was acting in a play[more on that later in the post] and what more than a city like Mumbai and a comedy play, for three school friends to meet up and discuss how the world has transformed while they got busy with their chosen paths in life.
Me and DK planned to meet up for this play titled “When the pythons followed the actors” - an adaptation of a plot by the British Comedy troupe “Monty Python”. Staged at Rang Sharada Auditorium in Bandra (W), the play promised to be a nice refresher but the prime motivation to watch the play was that VB happened to be part of the production. Also, it was about time I caught up with the stage world for two main reasons - The last live play I watched was “Snow White and the seven dwarfs” when I was a toddler in class 1 and being a stage artist myself, theatre was something I always longed to witness.
I managed to wade through the snail paced Mumbai traffic in an auto rickshaw that moved as fast as a file in a government department and eventually completed the journey in slightly less than an hour. DK as usual was delayed and reached after I did. 7.5 years had made him heftier, meaner and boy, has he done away with those giant sized spectacles. The tickets were picked up by DK which included one for another colleague of his and he modestly declined re-imbursement considering the fact that he works for an MNC which encourages employees treating school buddies from other cities. I however made it clear I would not be available in Delhi the next time DK comes visiting. The least I could do was sponsor tea for the three of us and we suddenly realized we were sipping away at tea costing 20 bucks for 100 ml. like aristocratic princes of the British Raj.
The main plot of the play revolved around a stage artist who has the worst nightmare of his lifetime in that he has forgotten his lines right when the play is supposed to begin and is looking for cues from all possible sources to salvage the situation.
The sets best describe the way our protagonist is transported from one play to another almost like a striker across the carom board, and while the rest of his troupe know what exactly his role play is, he seems to suffer from amnesia.
The dialogues well reflect the mood of the moment, with most of the setting in erstwhile medieval Europe, and London being the frame of reference. The choice of characters is quite good and the fresh blood does bring in the much required agility which many scenes demand. The accents range from the stiff upper lipped Queen’s language to the typical French English with the Zi fer zhevry senor. The hero maintains a neutral English accent akin to “Ali” of Pakistani origin in the famed series “Mind your Language”.
The team which calls themselves Version One dot Oh! has its roots in Bangalore and is a mix of about 10 actors spanning the software industry, students and a couple of full time professionals.
I shall not dwell into the specifics of the plot lest I contribute to the lack of audience for their next performance. They may not have conformed to all the rules of “Bharat Muni’s ” “Natya Shastra” [Bharat Muni was the father of traditional Sanskrit Dramas and had laid down stage rules] but, for a group that is just three years young and performs to packed audiences in Bangalore, which also doubles up as one of the prime fund contributors to a local NGO, this was quite a remarkable effort.
Good show guys. Keep it up.
A couple of pics of the team, plus the three musketeers in front of the audi.
It’s Four forty A.M. by my watch on the second most significant day in the context of India’s existence – Republic Day! And what could be better than sitting at the airport of the National Capital, awaiting the rest of the nation to awaken to the celebrations that would begin in a couple of hours from now.
26th January, atleast for the last two years has meant me being at the IIT Madras for their annual cultural festival, SAARANG. But today, after just two hours of sleep, I await in the lobby of “Indian” (formerly Indian Airlines), even as patriotic songs reverberate on the mounted television screens around me. It’s kind of a co-incidence that I would be flying the official national carrier after almost ten years ( and no, neither am I a privileged club class member, nor do I hold an exclusive frequent flier pass), but yes, in the era of the Kingfisher and other premium airlines, INDIAN does face challenges in innovative branding.
The lady at the baggage check in counter seems to be in her late 40’s with a smile that best suits the one Inzamam-ul-Haq has when Shoaib Akhtar is walloped by Sehwag. She examines the ticket with the least of interest even as a co-worker interrupts her frequently seeking clarifications. It’s almost as if the lady has been in the system for so long that she knows all procedures by rote. Her identity card is so worn out that it resembles my grandmom’s ration card rather than an employee ID. Talk about long lasting durability.
Not very excited about her expected response, I still ask her, “ Kya aap mujhe ek window seat de sak te hai?” She looks up to me like “ Kid! You are not going on an amusement ride. And nothing’s visible other than the clouds, and for GOD's sake, it’s INDIAN, which may not even fly. So how does it matter?” All this, even as smartly attired personnel of other airlines whizzed around with the much desired enthusiasm.
The scene around me is pretty lazy. A middle aged “ Gentleman” has just taken off his shoes and has made himself comfortable on the seats, a couple of foreigners are curiously looking at the pigeons (the winged birds with a disturbed body clock thanks to the bright lights) flying over them in the lounge, and it’s almost day break but chilly winds are making their way through the wide doors that have just been thrown open to passengers of another airline that is due to fly shortly.
Yawns interrupt my otherwise peaceful existence and like a sleep deficient Vietnamese solider, my fingers have almost been mechanically programmed to type away at the laptop.
Time to catch some news folks. They’ve just loaded the complimentary newspaper stand and there’s already a beeline to grab the freebie. Lemme join the bandwagon too.
Can’t wait to be pampered by the “motherly” treatment of the air hostesses of the Indian flight like one of those Mother's Recepie advertisement . After all, Mother India is calling!
More on Mumbai , the city which never sleeps, once I reach there!