Room with a view

This Mumbai Mayanagri never leaves an opportunity to amuse me, be it for the simplest of things. You all will find the incident I share today really funny, especially if you are from the North.

Well, if I ask you what is the meaning of the hindi word “kamra”, what would your answer be…A room, right? You must be wondering I have lost it today!

Wrong answer if you are in Mumbai for here, "kamra" signifies a full flat! Can you believe it?

Even I couldn’t digest it the first few times I heard this rather funny usage.

The first time was when Mr. Hubby and I were on the lookout for a house. While we were clarifying our concerns of adequate water and power supply, security etc. our landlord suddenly mentioned, “Don’t worry, you will really like your Kamra!”

For a moment, I felt like the passenger who has been downgraded from business class to economy at the last moment and whispered to Mr. Hubby “What is he talking about? He thinks we will shell out this much money just for staying in one room?” Mr. Hubby then explained to me the Mumbai version of Kamra!

I was still not convinced. “It might be some old school of thought.” But my myth was broken as soon as we shifted to our house, for everybody from the milkman to the neighbors had the same reaction, “So you have shifted in KAMRA number …?” Always put off by their questions, I replied “Yes, FLAT number…”

And the usage is not just confined to verbal mention. I found several flats in my society mentioning “Kamra no. …”on their name plates!

We Dilliwallas are used to living king size, so a house is usually a kothi, a flat is a 2/3/4 bhk and a kamra usually indicates a single room. But here kothi becomes a bunglow, and flat straightaway gets downgraded to Kamra!

Anyway, I have undivided love for all the Kamras in my flat. But yes, I miss the spacious balconies, terraces and gardens Dilli has to offer.

No matter how much I may have cribbed about my city, the long distance relationship has its own charm, for distance deepens the bond of love. So my big city with a big heart, I miss you!

GoodBye Chacha Choudhary

When I heard about the demise of famous cartoonist Pran this morning, the image of Chacha Choudhary came in front of my eyes – that characteristic moustache, red turban, black waistcoat, thin frame, walking stick, agility in his walk and talk. Somehow I always related Pran with his most famous character – Chacha Choudhary, for like Chacha, Pran too, as the grand old man of Indian Comic industry spread happiness along with the right messages for the younger generation through his comics.  

Look back in your childhood and it is unlikely that you will remember loving any comic more than Chacha Choudhary, Pinki and Billu! In fact I still can’t recall any other Indian comic I would have read other than the ones dished out by Pran. My addiction for these comics knew no bounds and this often invited spanking from mom when she caught me reading comics hidden in textbooks, right before exams! Her usual statement was “If you have this addiction for your studies, the scene would be much better.” As soon as the exams would end, I would rush to my cousin’s place as he had a cardboard carton full of these comics and we would exchange the ones we had read!

While foreign comic characters too were a hit with us, Pran’s comics had a special place in our hearts since they came from our own heartland and were characters from among us.

Chacha Choudhary

The wise old man of Indian comics, Chacha never failed to prove that his mind worked faster than computer. A sharp mind and a gentle heart, he was someone we adored, respected and looked up to. He was the common man hero, who won with his mind and not violence. While Sabu was the volatile one of the duo, Chachaji would always use his presence of mind. Every time he would foil the plans of thugs, it would be in a way that would make us laugh and marvel at the wit and common sense of a common Indian man. While he was tough with thieves and goons, inside the house, he surrendered to the home minister, Chachi. Incidentally, Chacha Choudhary never locked his house when he went out and still managed to save his house from being burgled!

When the TV channels decided to convert Chacha Choudhary into a TV show, Raghubir Yadav was the apt choice for he so so much resembled the image of Chacha we all have in our minds.

Sabu

If there has to be an epitome of our friendship with aliens, Sabu is the best example. The tall and well built Sabu from Jupiter complimented the lean and wise Chacha. Sabu symbolized the angry young man who preferred to break muscles than use his presence of mind. A favourite line in every comic used to be “When Sabu gets angry, a volcano erupts in Jupiter!”

Rocket

Chacha’s large heart got him to adopt Rocket, a stray dog. The docile Raaket (the way they used to mention his name in the Hindi version) didn’t spare the thieves whenever they attempted foulplay. No premium pedigree, this very Indian feeble Rocket was India’s answer to Tintin’s canine companion.

Shrimatiji

Shrimatiji was the reason why my brother and I picked up women’s magazines, for usually the Shrimatiji strip found its place on the last page of women’s magazines mom used to read. Shrimatiji was the smart, progressive woman of the 80s who learnt the tricks of the changing times and always had the last laugh.

Billu and Pinki

Billu and Pinki were the gennext kids of the 80s who preferred to spend their time playing pranks and solving cases rather than glued upto facebook! Though I preferred reading comics where they both appeared along with Chacha Choudhary, it was fun to read about Pinki’s display of bravery and smartness along with her pet squirrel, Kut Kut.

With growing years, Nancy Drews, Hardy Boys and then Sidney Sheldon replaced my bookshelves but just like school friends have a special place in our heart, no matter how many friends we make in life, Pran’s comics are an indispensable part of my childhood.

A big salute to the Walt Disney of India. While I may have read the comics purely for fun back then, now, as I write myself, I understand the craft of this genius who gave us the heroes from amongst the common men and women. He was often quoted as saying “"If I could put a smile on the face of people, I would consider my life successful"

RIP Pran Sahab and thanks for giving us more than just smiles.

How to board an auto in Mumbai!

We Dilliwallas are famous for being rash and rowdy. Ask a Dilliwalla to stand in a queue and you are sure to invite an unpleasant conversation. I recall many instances of women calling each other names in Delhi metro just because one woman asked another to be in a line and the other asked her to mind her business. 

Though I am yet to experience the peak hours in Mumbai local trains, a recent instance made me familiar to the advantages of being patient in a queue.

Yesterday I was trying to board an auto near one of the local train stations. First things first, in Delhi we have rickshaw and autos. But in Mumbai, there are only autos, which Mumbaikars call Rickshaws. And if someone asks you if you came by Rick, don’t be surprised, for rick or rickshaw or auto are all the same! Now Mumbai autowallas are much different from the ones in Delhi (and unless I dedicate a separate post to them, I won’t be doing justice). As I tried to stop autos, none even bothered to slow down and even listen to where I wanted to go. Ignored and dejected, as I wondered and worried, my eyes fell on a long queue at the roadside. Some 15-20 people were standing in a queue like disciplined school kids waiting for school bus. Hullow, we weren’t even that disciplined as school kids and the moment bus used to come, we used to get into junglee mode!

Confused and curious, I thought of asking one of them, ‘’aakhir maajra kya hai’’ then my eyes fell on the umpteen autowallas that stopped near that line. So what did they have that autowallas stopped for them and not the others?

Eureka! In Mumbai, they have a line for boarding autos!!!

I looked at the auto and the last person in the queue who I had to join in case I wanted to be considered for auto. Being a rainy day, the size of the queue got me thinking. I have broken queues at several places in Dilli…my training ground being my school canteen and then the queue for college U Special. The rule is simple, survival of the fittest. But here, there wasn’t any scope of breaking queue. Unlike local trains, people maintained utter discipline and I didn’t want to come in the limelight as being an eager rule breaker!

So I went & stood in the long queue. The old uncle in front of me was a super friendly person and could make out from my looks that I was a newbie in the city. The tensed me was assured the line would move fast as most people going the same side share autos. He was right, for the line moved really fast, and soon I was in the front. As an auto came, the uncle smiled and said “Ricksha thaamba!”

I soon realized the advantage of these auto queues. The autos that stopped here didn’t refuse to commute on your desired destination. Discipline pays at times.

While Mumbaikars reading this are all smiles, my Dilliwaale bhai bandhu need not worry as my notion of discipline was wiped away clear the day I went to drive on the streets of Mumbai! Post coming soon… 

So i finally buy an umbrella!

I have never been fond of umbrellas. Right from school days, umbrellas have been nothing but a burden in hands. I mean we just have two hands and holding an umbrella amounts to losing 50% of holding capacity!

So in Delhi I avoided carrying an umbrella. Whenever it would rain I would take an auto or do some emotional blackmailing until someone from the family would drop me. Umbrellas drying in the office corridor were somehow considered tacky by most of the lot. The mantra was...better to wait at the metro station for  15 minutes than bearing the burden of an umbrella. How I often felt jealous of the princesses who had a servant to carry their umbrellas!

Alas, the princess has come to Mumbai...and one can only look at rains and say"atithi tum kab jaogey?" He he...

Here, the rains rule the game. But I too wasn't willing to go for an easy surrender. For 2 days i tried managing without an umbrella thinking its not raining heavily and I can manage. The result, by the time I reach office, i am half wet, the sandals get irritating squeaky, my hair have got a new frizzy look and most importantly my specs refuse to work...wish they had wipers! Seeing my state, the office guard can't help but give a warm smile to make me feel better :-)

Throughout the day I was consoling myself the rains would stop when its time to go home. But in Mumbai, rains rule the game. By the time I boarded the taxi, I was wet & irritated in rain. Even the taxi guy looked at me in pity and said " madam umbrella bhool gaya"

So this evening my frizzy hair forced me to visit an umbrella shop. Now in Mumbai I see people buying raincoats and umbrellas like we buy bread in Delhi every morning. By the time v chose one umbrella, the guy had already sold ten! I finally settled for a blue umbrella after been thoroughly confused by the wide variety of a thing as simple as an umbrella which v dilliwallas use more when walking in sun!

The raincoats that are limited to bachcha party in Delhi r a style statement here...kids, college students, people driving two wheelers, aunties driving scooties, even the traffic police guys, all happily don their raincoats. U will get raincoats of every shape, size and style here.

After all, when the rains don't stop, y should we?

Its began to rain again...lemme go out and inaugurate my blue umbrella!

Mumbai rains are here!

My third day in Mumbai and I get a wet rainy welcome! Unlike Delhi, rains here come with its own whims and fancies. No storm, wind, dust…just clouds and rains are here, like guests who come uninvited. This time around, rains made Mumbaikars wait a lot, and finally arrived with me! Somehow all my friends have been telling me since morning – madam, you came and brought rains.

Thinking of rains, the first thing that comes to my mind is ginger tea and hot pakodas, perhaps sooji halwa as well, if mom is in a generous mood. But since everything in Mumbai has a different nomenclature, pakodas here become Bhajiyas…big dumplings of potatoes (needless to say, sweet) and onions, bound generously in gramflour batter, and deep fried. As everybody in office enjoyed Bhajiyas, I missed Delhi, where we order an assortment of onion, potato, chilli, paneer pakodas.

The good old lauki/ghiya has become dudhi here. I still am unable to understand why the vegetable vendor wraps each dudhi in plastic…if it is to save it from the rains, why such partiality towards dudhi? Hehe…

For first timers, rains may play spoilsport, but the normal Mumbaikar has befriended even the moody rains. Truly, the city never stops. While I was frowning at the sight of my sandals, spoiled in rains, my friends’ shoes were shining, despite their long travel in metro….oops locals. Aaakhir raaz kya hai? I wondered. Then a friend told me, people keep an extra pair of shoes in office, and wear plastic flip flops to work. Also, never before have I seen raincoats and umbrellas of this variety. Even spotted a guy wearing a plastic pants and enjoying the rains!

Mumbai women too know, how to tweak fashion to their convenience. Spotted many women in sarees who had tied it like a skirt, but didn’t like to miss their local train!

Throughout the day, I was looking at the rains, reading twitter updates about water logging (even the Mumbai metro wasn’t spared by rains) and wondering what would be the sight on roads in the evening. But what I saw in evening took me by surprise. Everyone went around doing their business as usual. Apart from few potholes, there were no major water logging on the roads. In Delhi, the day we have rains like this, reaching home is an endless struggle with water logging on every road.

When things don’t go the way we want them to be, we go in the cribbing mode. Perhaps we should take inspiration from people who have learnt to befriend the odds. Not even a single person in office was making faces at the sight of heavy rains. It was first major shower of the season, and Mumbaikars celebrated it like a festival with tea and Bhajiyas!

As much as I miss Delhi, I also salute the spirit of Mumbai, the city that never stops.

And before I sign off for the day, one more update…mom in law finally got her spicy food. She threatened the steward to prepare North Indian style North Indian food – hot n spicy else she will enter the kitchen and prepare herself!

She will have to wait for a few days to relish her Dilliwalla alu subzi though!

Finally, I am in Mumbai!

To all my readers and friends who thought writers block has eaten my blogging frequency, I have an update – we have moved to Mumbai. As much as I dreaded and resisted moving out of Delhi, destiny proved its sense of humor. Mr. Hubby found greener pastures in Mumbai and I had to follow suit.

So, since the last one month, I am like a cranky cow…yep…you read it right! Cranky cow, not a baby! Cranky, for obvious reasons. Delhi runs in my genes and heart and moving all the way 1400 something km away was just not acceptable to me. Cow – because no matter how much I revolt, I am a susheel, sanskari Indian wife, who prioritizes her hubby’s welfare over her choices. Transfer, packing, house are the key words running in my mind since the last one month and blogging suffered.

Before coming, everyone except me was super excited. Some think I am going to the financial mecca, others think I would be hob nobbing with the stars (as if I am the one they are waiting to give darshan!)…remaining ones have already planned their holidays in Mumbai and Goa; while all this while I wondered how would I survive without seeing my family everyday (Mr. Hubby said, “skype hai na!”)

Finally, we landed up in the Mayanagri yesterday and today I was off to work. Since morning, many people have asked me how did I find the place. I look at them for a second, then explain that it is too early to comment as I landed up yesterday only!

To a pakka Dilliwalla, Mumbai appears like a totally different place. Picture this –

1.     Everytime we are out, we are struggling with finding either the Eastern express highway or the western express highway, and I am still trying to figure how to memorize the easts and wests of the same locality.

2.    The wide, well marked, concrete roads of Lutyens Delhi are replaced by slightly narrow roads which contributes to traffic jams. The shahi Dilliwalla in me, still likes to drive though friends tell me, soon I will start preferring local trains than dealing with traffic jams.

3.    The city is always on the go. This morning, mom in law went for a walk around and all she saw was people rushing for their work. Young and old, everyone was in a hurry. MIL has been terribly missing her Dilliwalli gossip neighbour since then.

4.    People really mind their own business. In Delhi one cannot imaging moving to a flat and not having a welcome tea and introduction session at the neighbour’s place; while other Padosans hop in to know the new lady in their colony. Out here, people have a lot of their own business to mind. Good for us though, coz I never liked the ever peeping Verm aunty in the Delhi neighbourhood.

5.    If you are coming to Mumbai for the first time, get an understanding of some basic Gujrati/Marathi words, if not atleast the accent. I have to often ask routes from passersby and it takes me a minute to replay in my mind and understand what exactly s/he said!

6.    Sweetness flows…I ate Dosa last night and for the first time in my life, I had sweet sambhar. In Delhi, women can be often seen scolding subziwallas for selling them potatoes that are sweet in taste, but here, since yesterday every potato dish I had was sweet. I truly madly deeply loved the Vada Pao though!

7.    BEST buses are a treat to the eye…I even love their Bhopu and red colour! Since childhood, its in Mumbai that I have spotted a double decker bus again and I am looking forward to a ride.

8.    I still haven’t bought grocery so yet to see if the vegetable vendor understands veggie names I know or will I have to take a crash course in veggie nomenclature.

9.    Thanks to space issues, all balconies are covered and there are no pre built almirahs in houses

And now the icing on the cake...

Yesterday I went to eat Dosa. After preparing the Dosa, the vendor asks me, “madam, eat here or parcel?”. Parcel? I wondered and for a second post office, inland letters and stamps floated in my mind. Then I told him “no parcel, eat here”. After 2 seconds, a kid came and asked the vendor “Uncle, gimme a parcel”. I wondered if he would actually take out a parcel from some shelf. All he took out was a polythene bag! So that’s the parcel! I got it!

They say change is the only thing permanent in life. These are the first impressions I have. Do let me know your impressions. And keep looking for more posts in the series “Dilli to Bombay”…

Letter to my smartphone

My Dear Smartphone,

It’s been 3 days since you went on that sick leave, and my life has come to a standstill. I wish I could rewind and edit the scene when you fell on the floor and broke your lovely shining screen – the beautiful 5” screen that meant so much to me. It was like a paralysis attack, you immediately stopped sensing any touch, although I know all my memories, emotions and must haves are still safe in your heart. After all, my relation with you is that of expression and perhaps that’s why the gap hurts so much.

But accidents in life come unannounced and change the dynamics of our existence. For sometime, I was in a state of shock and carried you everywhere normally since you are my constant companion. Do you know, immediately after you fell, everyone was so concerned. Friends, family and even office connections were clueless why I went passive and didn’t answer their calls. They were unaware that even though I could see their calls, I could do nothing, for the screen had broken! It took me sometime to pass on the information that I would be unavailable for some time and after hearing about the accident, my well wishers were full of sympathy and prayers for you and my wallet!

We had just celebrated your first Birthday, I had even got you a new screenguard as those scratches on the previous one had to be done away with. Black, shiny, intelligent, efficient, you were my best buddy throughout the day. Whoever said Diamonds are a girl’s best friend didn’t have a smartphone!

The usual happy go lucky me, now wears a sad look while commuting to office. No longer can I listen to music, read news, or read articles on my way to work. You even doubled up as a mirror when I wanted to check the look when out. Encouraging the budding photographer in me, you also catered sportingly to my Selfie obsession! The other day I saw these beautiful birds in the evening and I lost the opportunity to click and blog about them and I cant tell you how much you were missed. I am somehow managing with a step phone borrowed from mom in law till you get treated, but honestly, nothing compares to you.

You ensured discipline in my life by instantly notifying me of any mail or update on twitter or Watsapp and showed me the value of timely reverts. It’s a torture now as I can only check these once a day, after I come back home. Unable to find me on Watsapp, my friends began to think I suddenly went on a holiday without informing them, only later they came to know, that the break from Watsapp jokes and juicy gossips is a forced one. With the screen gone, the temple run guy is also enjoying a forced break as I no longer ask him to run every morning!

Most importantly, my favourite activity is the worst affected - . I can no longer read and update blogs on the go. Imagine an idea coming to you in the morning and having to wait for the evening to blog whatever little is left in the memory.

Mr. Hubby asks me to chill and says you are just a phone. Gosh, when will these guys understand the difference between utility and affection! All I can do is helplessly stare at your lifeless, broken face every evening and wonder if I could have been more careful that day.

Although Mr. Hubby has promised he will take you for a surgery this weekend, let me tell you that until then, every minute is like a year to me. 

I feel cut off from the world and my favourite pastimes have become a thing of the past. Wish you have a speedy recovery and we can again enjoy our days like before.

Love,

S