The right before I left home post

And just like that, its time for goodbyes again. The new year begins and my 5 weeks at home draw to an end. Its amazing, how 3 weeks ago I felt like I wasn’t fitting into the puzzle, I was strangely removed from my old life.. but suddenly everything fits – the clothes, the life – everything. I’ve grown to drive over the bumps and grumble under my breath and then move on, to learn to cuddle up to mom and answer incessant questions, to text her once I get back home at night even though she’s in the next room. Teeny things like that which I had forgotten. This week will be tough. I hate goodbyes. I especially hate doing them twice. Saying it to parents is even tougher. To moms? It’s just cruel. Specially mine. She tries to play the strong girl card but it never works. Last year on my way to the airport I left my hairclip clipped on the car handle on the roof – this year when my dad picked me up, 1.5 years later, the clip was still there. My cupboard, still had the same old clothes I had left behind – only washed and ironed. Ma hadn’t moved a thing.

This departure is hard.. I leave not knowing when Ill be back, or how different things will be when I am. Most of my friends are married or engaged or on the brink of being either one of the two. Most of my best friends are boys [ the ratio of men : women in engineering colleges in India is 90:10 ] therefore when they’re married our equations will change. Most of their girlfriends hated me – why wont the wives?! This time when I leave it seems more indefinite.. uncertain.

The trip home was amazing.. goa was just an absolute blast. The road trip was 3 people in a scorpio – the most cosy drive ever (for me, sleeping sprawled in the back seat), and the 4 days were just phenomenal. I have some special moments I’d like to store away…

Like when D and me walked the entire stretch of Morjim beach and spoke about the last 10 years and then made a bucket list and a 5y/10y plan in the sand. That bucket list is another blog post. We had overpriced coconut water and spoke about all our what if’s and thank god its over relationships and the last 10 years of our lives..

Abhi and I stole time away the same evening, at Club Fresh Morjim beach [ SUPERLOVE the place] and spoke about everything we didn’t speak about in the last 10 years – wat his life was really like in America, what he never told me cause I was too much of a prude and too conservative haha – how times change! We exchanged gossip and scandals –me not so much, but it was fun getting to know the parallel life of someone so close to me who had to hide things from me just so that he stays in my good books.

One time when I was in the last seat in the Scorpio and I could see 6 people ahead of me, grooving to the music as we drove down to the beach… I don’t know what it was about that moment as I looked at 6 of us, 28 year olds – I felt 16 all over again, naive and innocent… I watched D make that same hand dance movement he does since the last 15 years, Rush look grumpy as he drove, K and Cy (a new +1 to the group) hold hands. Abhi check his bb for the 99^th time that hour and me in the last seat looking at how everyone was just together, yet apart – strung together by the music, this trip and countless years of memories. Everything and everyone just froze for a few moments and a snapshot remains in my mind..

We spent each night partying – the last night at Hype made me feel 45 years old what with 18 year old children dancing around us. At a.m. there were more of these kids asleep on the chairs outside and drunk sitting on the floor than there were inside dancing. That separates the men from the boys and the children from the adults I guess :-/ Only I wish I was the child in this situation – Someone needs to make the impending 30’s go away!! Ugh! Remind me to make the most of these 2 years please?

Unlike last new years which I spent asleep in LA after spending 30^th and 31^st standing in lines at Universal studios and Sea World, and the new year before that which I spent at my helipad shunning the big commercial party my friends went to, this year I went. To a big new year party, the kind I don’t like. 90 people, commercial music, unlimited food and alcohol a bomb on the wallet – all that. A private party at a private bungalow in Madh island. I had a blast! I am such a disbeliever in partying on new year’s – especially in Mumbai. It’s the most overrated night of the year- you pay five times as much to drink the same alcohol you would on a normal night, you spend an average of 3-6 hours travelling by car, and most of the times, the alcohol and food is almost over by the time you get there.

This party was different – it was well organized [ Kudos to Dev, Dar, Rush ], the cocktails were amazing, the food was brilliant and never ran out and the music was insane!

Choosing my religion

I'm here. Home. Mumbai i.e. It was necessary to specify because just a few days ago I was looking for something in my suitcase and said that I had forgotten it at home (i.e. America) - My mom's face changed colors and dropped her smile when she realized what I had said. "HOME?" she said with that scary arched eyebrow.

It feels weird though, I dint just fit back in like nothing had changed. I dint just pick up from where I left off. Mumbai has moved on without me, its swelling burgeoning population and traffic woes and me-first attitude has left me behind a little bit. My friends are the same in some regards, I see the same light hearted attitude, the same childish jokes and taking each others cases, albeit with a slightly somber vein - everyone's looking to get hitched. The one's who are seeing someone are getting married (I'm attending two weddings this month) and the one's who are not are really really wired up about finding someone. I feel slightly disconnected from them too, in a way. Last night at a dinner party, I was the ONLY single person in a room of 6 couples. [ Dear Bridget Jones, I NOW understand your pain ]

But most of all, I feel like I've drifted away from me. Gone is that girl who woke up bubbling with conversation and ready to get going to meet a ton of people that day, and here is a girl who wakes up and wants to have her tea quietly reading the newspaper for the first hour of the day. I didn't realize how used to myself I had gotten, and while I'm still a very people's person my definition of 'space' has altered significantly. While a few years ago it would be those few minutes in the day when I'd steal some time off, now its my mornings and my evenings before I wake up and before I get into bed. Here is a person who is still as big as extrovert as she used to be, maybe more, but who now gets her energy from intraversion. That time when I get back home everyday to my big clean room and just space out? That's recharging time. Which I dont get here AT ALL.

Watching TV, Surfing the internet, reading the paper are all activities which are freely interrupted by people and questions and phone calls and mom and dad and I've realized I need that space. It scares me a little.. the implications of this. How will this translate into married life? What if I ever have to move home?

At the dinner party on tuesday, one couple living and working in Seattle has been plagued with the 'should we move home' question. They want to start a family and think living around grandparents instills values in children which nothing can compensate. ALL of the people in the room that night have studied in the US, (save for me who is still doing so) and have moved back, begrudgingly. Naturally the conversation erupted into a cacophony of protests (NO, DONT even think of moving back), dismay (ARE U SERIOUS! u want to move back to this hellhole?), advice, and pros and cons. I kept quiet - I dint know this couple well enough to impose my opinion and also wanted to see the discussion evolve from the point of view of people who've seen both worlds, and moved back and adjusted to life here. The result was unanimous : except for one girl, everyone else (sample size 11 people) was of the opinion that given a choice, they'd live away. Be it the moral bankruptcy, corruption, breakdown of infrastructure, traffic, pollution or the bureaucracy - there was a reason why everyone hated Mumbai. Resigned to their destinies of having moved back and now left with no choice almost. When did this happen? When did Mumbai become a place of resignation and so much subdued angst? It is pertinent to say that this conversation took place on the 10th floor of a very posh flat in Breach Candy in South Mumbai, the most luxurious part of Mumbai, and each couple in the room lived in the stretch of land between Cuffe Parade - Breach Candy with Mercs and BMW's for cars. Point being - this is the opinion of people living in the lap of luxury - I shudder to think of the Aunty getting on the Churchgate - Virar local everyday.

In the last decade, Mumbai (or India as a whole?) has slowly gone through a process of degrading its quality of life, confidence in politicians and systems, a slowing down (and eventual breakdown) of infrastructure, an exponential increase in pollution and decrease in civic sense.. something I was blind to when I was madly in love with this city. I still love it dearly, but now there's a certain wistfulness in my gaze when I look out at marine drive and long for the clear skies and the sun kissed horizon, and am instead met with a blanket of smog. I look for that occasional interesting conversation with the cab driver and am instead met with a bitter fight over one rupee of change.

I've changed... Mumbai's changed.

Personal Ethical Dilemna?

This is a dilemma I faced just before coming to Business school in the US. For sake of context, I lived in Mumbai, India before school and this is where my story took place.

Not being funded by a scholarship for school, I applied for a bank loan to cover the first year tuition bill. My second year will be funded by my father – that’s how we decided it will be since the Indian government stipulates a maximum loan amount that may be granted and that would only cover my first year fee. Being an international student, with no scholarship it’s easy to imagine the monetary implications of attending school. I knew I really needed that loan for the first year. We applied to the State bank of India for a loan and began the extremely tedious and bureaucratic process of getting out papers together, making a million trips between the bank, home and other offices. To put time in perspective, we began this process 3 months before I was to start school.

It was a month before we had all the paperwork they needed – as a collateral for the loan, it wasn’t enough that we had enough cash, securities and other investments to more than cover the loan, they needed a property mortgage. We then got all the papers required to mortgage the house we lived in as collateral – there was only one problem. From when we bought the house to when we moved in, the builder re-numbered all the houses and consequently even though our sale deed said we lived in apartment 502, we actually lived in 503. This was of course, an issue with the bank since they go through a rigorous validation process and this wasn’t acceptable.

We did everything else we could: register for a new sale deed, get a notarized letter from a lawyer stating that we have applied for a new deed and that this was the fault of the builder, and is being rectified – to no avail. The bank loan from SBI fell through. We approached a few other banks to the same result – no loan until this was sorted out.

India is a bureaucratic society and any legal paperwork takes months, years to process. As the clock was ticking and I was a month away from moving to school and still no loan, one last option presented itself to us – pay a bribe of 75,000 Rs. And get the sale deed accelerated in time to apply and be approved for the loan.

While this is an easy solution to many India – which explains the heart of the deep rooted corruption, it was no easy decision for us. My father served the Indian Navy for 24 years, and is a man of great honor and respect. He holds himself accountable to higher standards of ethics than Indian society dictates. Being his daughter, I live by his principles as well. This was a real quandary. Just to quantify the magnitude – the loan would cover 2,000,000 Rs. Worth of my first year fees while my father would pay the second year AS WELL AS my living expenses for the first year. Its not a small sum of money – not getting the loan would mean borrowing more than 5Million Rs. from my dad at an age where he needs to retire and lead a stress free life. That was unacceptable to me. On the other hand, paying a bribe was letting down myself in my own standards, wasting hard earned money, supporting corruption and giving that man more incentive to continue doing so AND hating the society even more. That was also unacceptable to me.

Meanwhile, the clock was ticking. We now had about 3 weeks – JUST enough time to make it work. A few days later, and the loan would not be approved in time. At the time, all the options I was weighing were looking gloomy – I had no family in the US, no one to co-sign a US loan, taking 5Million rupees from my dad was not a solution either.

This was an ethical personal dilemma at its very excruciating best. I could see my father torn between doing the right thing and what wasn’t. Funnily enough, talking to friends and family about this evoked the same reaction “Why is this issue? Of course you need to pay him, and get it done with – everyone does it. No work gets done around here if you don’t pay”. And we did.

I regret that that’s the route we had to go – I could see my dad and I both regretting the fact that we let our moral compass waver, we oiled the squeaky wheel of corruption and did what we both abhor – sway with the direction society swayed in.

It’s easy to be judgmental about being good – and to assume that bad people do bad things. Until then, I assumed people who gave bribes are most definitely people who took them too. Until I did it. I assumed society is spoiled by illiterate, criminals, crooks, corrupt politicians or people who simply dint know better – but that’s not the case either. Bad people aren't the only ones making bad decisions... clearly.

You MUST go to Dome. Because..

Ladies and Gentlemen, the view from my left.
And then the view from my right...


Any further questions?

The Face of Change?

Mr. Ashok Chavan, Chief Minister, Maharashtra. B.Sc., M.B.A. Son of former CM (late) S.B Chavan. T0 Quote (outraged) Mr. Rane 'What Qualification does he (Ashok Chavan) have except be the son of a former CM (S.B. Chavan)'

Mr. Chhagan Bhujbal, Deputy CM, Maharashtra. Trying to find Qualifications, but found some vague mentions of 'Electrical/Mechanical Engineering'. This qualifies for a qualification, and then some.

So this is what our 'Peace March' and 'Voice of Mumbai', anger, angst, outrage led to?? The appointment of one politician whom we've never had opportunity to judge. (I couldnt think of a past record - good or bad), and one tainted, corrupt, money laundering politician.

The future looks grim. Mr. Deputy C.M. in all earnestness (did i say earnestness? I meant crooky shady trying to gain trust attitude, for lack for worse words) has ordered Rs. 100 crore of security equipment, sophisticated arms and ammunition, speedboats and what not. How much of this will reach his pockets and earn him another college I wonder?

I am angry. I certainly expected more from this. Was it too much to ask for. I feel helpless. To be juggled from one crook to another. Politics in India has become a joke. What qualifications do these people have? Simply being someones son or daughter seems to be enough. How do we put an end to this? I don't see one in sight. And to think I'm a fairly optimistic person.

How is it that they get away with this? I'm simply at a loss for words, and so infuriated right now that coherent words and reasonable logic is failing me. How can a person, who is a public servant, earn as much as a senior management in a good company be worth over 100 crores, own schools/colleges etc? HOW? Nearly all our politicians own schools/colleges right now.. be it Datta Meghe, Bhujbal, Manohar Joshi, D. Y Patil, all have Flourishing 'Founder and Chairman' tags with money rolling in through he side door. Of the 131 private unaided colleges in Maharashtra, almost 100 are owned by politicians, including Ministers. Other than the few names I mentioned before, ex-Chief Minister Vilasrao Deshmukh also owns an institution in Mumbai, Nationalist Congress Party leader Sharad Pawar owns three, while his son owns one, and Pawar's close associates own another five. Former Prime Minister P.V. Narasimha Rao's son Rajeshwar Rao controls an education society in Nagpur. source

Every morning I wake up with the same feeling - anger. Every morning I leave home and spend my train journey wondering what to do with my frustration, how to keep this spirit alive.

One of my friends Uncle's is a lawyer whom I want to meet and understand the RTI, how to invoke it, what my rights are, how to go about it and other such things. If anyones interested, do let me know maybe I can figure something out. Want to follow up on Our Rs. 100 crore and its whereabout after a few months, as also the other security measures that have been promised.

There's also something else I need to figure out. Todays TOI reported that only the firemen at Taj are getting an increment, because apparently it was much riskier there as opposed to Trident, CST, Nariman house. Im of the opinion that all the guys who spent 3 days dousing fires, and putting their life on the line ought to be rewarded. Want to start a citizen donation/citizen reward type trust where we can all contribute whatever amount we feel like, and give all these guys a reward 'FROM US', 'From Mumbai'....as a thank you and a mark of recognition. Am at a loss of ideas of how to go about it, since would need help from a big media/corporate as wouldnt want anyone questioning where the money is going in.

If anyone has any suggestions, do drop me a line. Lets take this forward, and keep the spirit alive.

Chappar Phad ke?

I believe in God. I do. I believe that there's a larger picture, and that destiny will overtake you, no matter what you do. I believe that he loves each one of us, and that there's always something in store. I also believe that when your time is up, you gotta go.

You could be a careful driver, a safe pedestrian or a paranoid parent. You could have a fireproof, shockproof, burglar proof, natural calamities proof home or office, but you of your family could die eating at your favorite restaurant. In today's day, when terror is in our faces, in my backyard, and was staring my dad in the face, we need to be terror-proof. How?

There are times I do question God. I question my blind belief in the 'Whatever happens happens for the best theory'. Like today. At work, someone was telling me about how her dad escaped death because he randomly missed the bus (which he catches each and every day) one particular day, and that's the day the bus had a horrific accident and nearly everyone died. 'There is a god', she said 'and he saved my father'. That sentence was enough for me to wonder -- the families of everyone else who perished must also have prayed for their safety, for their life.. what about them? I wonder if they stopped believing in god. Or do you say 'This too happened for the best?"

My dad was safe. And when people I meet say, 'Thank God, all went well' I stare dumbfounded - 'Did everything go well?' NO. I have a friend who lost her cousin and his wife who have two small kids (who, are busy making fake phone calls on plastic phones to their parents since they cant understand what death is) at Tiffin, a friends friend who lost her entire family, is battling 5 bullet injuries, let me not even begin on Hemant and Ashok uncle and so many other stories from near and dear ones.

I have a strange superstition that I hear of deaths in 3's. (other than natural calamities/terror attacks/unexplained tragedies). Im waiting to be proven wrong. 3 deaths between Thursday-Friday. 3 today already... (all unrelated to the terror attacks ironically). Its like they say .. 'Dene waala jab deta hai to deta chappar phad ke' (when he gives, he gives in abundance).

Some respite from bad news please. For me and these families and Mumbai. Strength to retain belief, to withstand, move on and rebuild. Peace, of mind and heart - for we need some in the midst of all this tumult. Some alone time at Siddhivinayak without being jostled around for space.

As if grappling with events of the past weeks, and the aftermath which brought no solace, there are other events to deal with. Weddings, Engagements -- which will go on, and must (should) be attended. I'm torn between what I'm feeling inside, and the thought that its someones happy day and he/she cant live in the past. To be honest, I cant see myself going, simply because Id rather not be a wet-blanket, go to a wedding and have a long face. It simply isn't fair. What to do?

(No) Thanks to the Media..

Those three days when Terror rocked my city, my home, turned my life as well as almost everyone in Mumbai's life upside down, were undoubtedly the three longest, most traumatic and tense days of my life. I had already started planning for life after, assuming my dad wont be walking in home. Im ashamed to admit it (now) that I had a slimmer of hope, which faded every passing second, every one explosive, every one gun shot we heard and watched on television.

The Media didn't help one bit. I agree it was our only source of information (other than looking out the window and making sure that the buildings are still standing (as opposed to being blown away by bombs, which is what i was expecting all along). If there was anything that could make the situation worse, it was the news.

Its a given that the television was not switched off, save for about 45 mins on the first night when we (tried to get some) sleep, and 3 hours the next night when Mom was coaxed into sleeping by B aunty, and I passed out of exhaustion on the sofa. Coming back to the point... There were SO MANY TIMES, so many times, that it would say 'BREAKING NEWS - FRESH EXPLOSIONS INSIDE TRIDENT' for sometimes 2-3 hours at a stretch... So we wernt sure if they were newER blasts from the breaking news we saw 3 hours ago, or simply the same feed that was relaying to us by some nincompoops who don't understand the gravity of their jobs and that there were families like ours glued to the television...

All news channels as we have seen run 3 -4 live feeds which keep scrolling horizontally across the screen even while the newsreader is on air. At one particular instance, one line read ' Hostage situation ends at Trident' while the line DIRECTLY below that read 'Hostages feared to be killed inside Trident'. Seriously people? What exactly is the qualification of these people who input news into teleprompters/live feeds? Is common sense not one of them? Do they need a manual that says 'Do not put contradicting news on lines directly above/below one another' Cause ill make one for them, i promise.

The kind of mayhem, panic, heart stopping moments that things like this induce... is something I wont be able to describe with the most verbose of descriptions. All I know is at some point I switched off, (am ashamed to admit) gave up, sat teary eyed in front of the screens hoping and praying for this to be over.

Why cant they run the live feeds as the "updated time:followed by news item"
e.g. ' 11.38 p.m. fresh blasts in Nariman House' '10.56 a.m. Hostage situation still critical'.
Meanwhile, Barkha Dutt launches into Panel Discussions. which at that moment were unnecessary.

Of the many moments frozen in my memory - On Thursday night, the second night of this carnage, at around 3 in the morning while I was secretly watching Tv while my mom and B aunty slept in her room, for a long time, there was no news of the Trident.Most channels were running the same 'Hostages believed to be killed'. 'Fire breaks out' (while i could see that it was doused) type stories, I started Panicking and wondering why there isn't ANYTHING on the news. My dad hadn't been taking calls or responding to sms's, but it was on. I know that since a lot of people tried calling him too, and told me that it was ringing but he wasn't answering it. It was of some solace to know even this.
That night at 3-3.30 in the morning, with my heartbeat reduced to near nothing, I sent him an sms saying 'Daddy why isn't there anything on the news, is everything ok'. Of course, i DIDN'T expect a reply. But still. for whatever reason, I didn't get a delivery report for a Long time after. between 45 and 50 mins to be exact. those 45 mins felt like an entire day.

I was feverishly keylocking/unlocking keylocking/unlocking keylocking/unlocking algorithmically with thoughts I cant even pen down here running through my mind. Considering it was so late, and all my close friends and relatives were going through this as much as i was, I knew I didn't want to wake up people who were getting some sleep... Tried switching channels to watch something mindless in the hope that maybe the next time I switch back, There will be some good news.
At some point, with the television on, I must've drifted off into sleep. when something buzzed. It was a delivery report. I breathed a sigh of relief, turned off the television and convinced myself to sleep. At that time, even a delivery report was enough to go on...

A Draft post im posting a month later, since I didnt know I had it saved...

Until we move past the bureaucracy and dirty politics that encompasses our governing, judicial and defence systems, we will remain vulnerable for the rest of the world.

Mumbai has always been the golden goose, with the most number of people per sq foot area, transport systems that are bursting to the seams, hotels and social places which are always packed -- hence scope for maximum destruction. We are also part of a country that witnesses our trauma, speaks of it sympathetically for a few days and goes to work the next day. We are the ones that move on the soonest, display the most courage… and remain silent in anticipation of the next attacks.. cause we all know this is not the end.

Even today, I shudder to think that the events of the past few days could be a mere pause in the larger plan that terrorists have drawn up. Are we even safeguarded against something happening today?

I was at the Marine drive vigil yesterday, overwhelmed by the turnout and emotions. A poster someone held up said ‘Enough is enough’. And I thought to myself.. we had blasts first in 1993. did we need to wait 15 years, for over 441 people to die (this year alone) to realize that enough is enough? If that wasn’t enough, we’ve had constant reminders, in our city and others time and again. More political bickering, more bureaucratic mayhem. No one to take responsibility, no one to emerge as the voice of strength.

Its amusing, how when incidents like this occur, people stand up and say ‘ govt was informed about coastal security’ etc. Im of the opinion that our security should be airtight and impenetratable 365 days a year. Why do we need constant reminders ghastly massacres to realize that protection and safety comes first, that loss of life is irreplaceable, and invaluable… and that maintaing constant and prevention of infiltrators from neighboring (hostile) countries is of prime importance. WHY?

What we need is police forces, intelligence agencies and a federal system which is buffered from the Government. Agencies which operate in synchronization with each other, and who report to no one, except themselves. These politicians and their pressure (contacts, bribes) just prevent the proper functioning of these integral agencies. Hemant Uncle once at a dinner conversation mentioned to daddy how he was enjoying his stint at RAW since he was for the first time, slightly away from the hypocrisy and games that politicians play.

Today, there is conflict between the IB and the ATS over who will take the investigation forward. The terrorist is in custody of the IB while the ATS, has this role listed in its duties. Who will settle the matter? Both agencies will use various reasons as leeway why they should be the ones to take this forward. Any breakthrough, of course will bring a lot of glory, and who doesn’t want a piece of that pie?

I think I could go on. Vilasrao Deshmukh should be thrown out with sticks and stones, and not allowed to resign gracefully. This (please insert suitable abuse) has the audacity to take a filmmaker and his son to tour the hotels as part of his entourage. Is he crazy? Or unaware? Did he expect no criticism for this? Or was he just so sure that he could get away with this too, like everything else these (please insert suitable abuse) get away with?

*update - deletion of some points which were sensitive.

Im battling so many emotions right now. Im not sure how to vent my anger, frustration and im not even sure what im feelin right now.

I went for the candle light vigil at Marine Drive a while back, lit a candle, said the National Anthem.... the experience was overwhelming, the turnout tremendous. I couldnt hold back tears as we sang the National Anthem as images of Hemant Uncle, Akash doing the final rites came into my eyes. The mood of everyone was clear - angry, frustrated and fed up. People help up placcards saying 'We dont care who resigns, we dont care whose there, we want safety', others saying ' Can you hear us Mr. C.M. (who by the way went on a tour of both hotels with Ram Gopal Verma and his son Riteish Deshmukh as part of his offical entourage.) This is our leader, the chief minister of our state abusing his power. He ought to do us a favour and kill himself.

I come home to my dad whom Ive seem for brief moments since friday...
Im angry, and upset. I want to go to bed knowing hes done his duty and that now he deserves more than 2 hours of sleep a night, and spend some time with his family. Selfsh that sounds, but i dont care. He hasnt had time to deal with the trauma hes been through too.

One more thing thats really pissed me off. The image of Akash in todays paper doing the last rites of Hemant Uncle shows him standing next to some random girl who theyve labelled as 'Karkares son and Daughter mourning'. Cant they get their facts right? I mean, how irresponsibel can you be? If i were to labe a client brand wrong in a presentation, Id be sacked. and this was on the front page of the paper!

When i went to drop my dad off, I saw the whole inside, which has been boarded off so no photographers/media can peek inside like the Taj. What i saw was eerie slience, in a hustling bustling place Ive been so many times before, with bullet holes near the lift, glass of the entire lobby, of both the oberoi and the trident shattered... the blood and bodies have been cleared completely. I walked into the charred remains of Kandahar, the indian restaurant which was almost my favoritre (second to Frangipani). It was heart breaking..I didnt take any pictures out f respect for my dad who doesnt want any ghaslty images leaked to the press, and also since we are all tryign to get the past few days out of the forefront of our memories, let alone takign snaos that will put them right back. My mom and I stared speechless at a coat slung over a chair casually, half burned, presumably that of a guest dining there. All hostages were taken from Kandahar, so im guessing he would be one of them. If not, i hope hes one of the (few survivors), since 2 grenades burst in this hotel too.

It was an eerie experice, I couldnt hold back as i stepped into Tiffin for a minute.. the restaurant which suffered the most casualties. Knowing each person seated in tat restaurant is now dead was unnerving, I pray for the souls of everyone who was there...

Im angry, upset, frustrated (ive said this before havent i?) and hurt. Just running out of ways to deal with it.

This is my story..

*updated.
It was a long excruciating wait. For my dad to walk in home. One I wasn't even sure would end well.But it did, and as we deal with the trauma of the past few days, I just wanted to offer my condolences and prayers to everyone whose lost someone... It is indeed a tragedy, and one that will take a LONG time to heal.

My dad got called into work on Wednesday, 26th at 9.30 just as the first grenade burst and the first few rounds were fired in the Oberoi. I was out with a friend in a taxi at Colaba, just minutes away from Leopold, wondering why there was so much traffic when I got a call from a much distressed mom informing me that Daddy got called in to work since there was a Bomb blast at Oberoi '(Which is what he was told at the time). She was afraid he wouldn't even make the car ride to the hotel, given the complete panic and utter shock he left. My friend and I took a right from the Regal circle, towards my house... a coupla mins late and we would've been in the thick of things at Colaba Causeway.

My first reaction when I turned on the news was 'Mom, its not a bomb blast, it was firing OUTSIDE the Oberoi'. Short lived relief turned into quickening heartbeats and utter dismay when I heard an explosion and rushed to my window, which has a clear view of the Oberoi. As I saw smoke billowing out of the hotel, I knew something major had happened. Course, this took abut 20 mins to appear on tv, since deferred live and all that. Until then, I was speechless, numb and at a loss for words, when the phone calls started pouring in. First my cellphone from friends who know i live this side of town, then relatives on the landline and my moms cellphone...suddenly it was as though all hell broke loose. I was answering each call with templated responses... 'Ya, im fine. Moms home too. No, Dads inside the hotel. Yes, Inside. No i dont know. Yes it is bad. can we speak later? bye.'

As we watched the news turn from random firing outside the Oberoi, to terrorists actually INSIDE,with a hostage situation, I slowly died, went to hell and stayed there for 3 days. My mom and I sat before the television holding hands, as each passing moment got worse. My heart stopped beating fast, and instead slowed to an unnerving pace as the magnitude of everything happening sunk in. Knowing my dad and knowing his military background, i knew he wouldn't be sitting in the background of things. I was fearing for the worst. Thoughts like him throwing himself into the fray (which he did) were flashing before me every few seconds and false reassurances from family and friends that everything will be ok fell on deaf ears. Everything was already not ok. People were already dead, The Taj was burning and My dad was still in there.

From the time he left at 9.30 at night till the next day at noon, we had no news from him. Needless to say we were glued to the tv, watching nervously through the night for this operation to end. People called and msgd me as people were being evacuated asking me if my dad was one of them... to whom i said the same thing - that he will be the last to leave. if at all. Those who know him, didnt ask, cos they knew this about him. They knew he would prefer dying in the line of duty, putting himself in harms way, than coming out and watching as his men and his hotel burned.

Midway through the night, I saw a few visuals of a very close family friend - Hemant Uncle,.. u would know him as Hemant Karkare the ATS chief donning a (so called) bulletproof jacket and helmet and entering the scene. This is when I couldn't take it anymore, I left my moms room and walked into my own, saying prayers at the window and refused to leave. A Friend who stayed over since he was stranded this side of town came into my room about a half hr later and told me he is no more. Neither is Ashok Uncle. At this point, I started wheezing, and all the being strong theory jumped out the window. The next one hour was just a whirlwind of trying to get my breath back, and thinking of Jui, who I spoke with last week, who got married last year...Akash, Sayli and Kavita Aunty. This was a great great setback, and a tragedy that happened to our family even if my dad walked in home safe.

From 5.30 in the morning that day, sms's started pouring in asking if we had any news from dad. Considering we had none, it was a tremendous task speaking to concerned relatives and friends and saying the same thing over and over and over and over again. 'We have no news'. As more reports of sporadic fire, explosions kept streaming in through the hours, my confidence was wearing thin. When, one of my phones which is a direct line from the Oberoi rang in the Intercom fashion.. which meant either my dad was calling or there was bad news... Those few seconds till my mom said 'are u ok?' which indicated it was my dad were indeed the longest few of my life.

That phone call lasted 10 seconds and this was it 'im ok, they have a lot of ammunition, is really bad, they've killed 4 of my men, 3 employees and 5 guests. They're heavily armed.' and the line was cut. He was whispering, so we didn't even know where he was.

That phone call didnt bring much relief... as we didn't know much, and whatever he did tell us was bad news.

The next phone call happened an agonizing 5 hours later, and was on the same lines. Still whispering - 'Im ok, situation bad, they're heavily armed, they both are holed up in a room and throwing hand grenades intermittently' . We were confused. 2 terrosists? Holed up in the room? Where were the hostages? Since the news was reporting 6-10 terrorists, and a hostage situation.
Its when he got back yest for a few hrs that we realized there were only 2, and that they killed their hostages on the first day itself.

He got back for a few hours on friday night around midnight, more than 60 hours since the last time he slept, and 48 hours since he was at Oberoi. He got to know of his friends death only a day later, from an army official who entered the second day. Didnt have time to deal with it then, as there were dead bodies strewn about his own hotel, and terrorists who still needed to be flushed out.

My little brother is at Military school at Nashik and got to know a few hours after this happened, on wednesday and called us in great Panic. 'Daddy is obviously inside', said he, 'but is he ok?' to which we naturally lied and said we had spoken with him and he's completely fine, in fcat hes not even inside the hotel. Think he knows his dad and knew he wouldnt be outside, judging by the 2 hourly phone calls he made to us, asking if we've heard from him.

It was the phone call on friday, 28th at 7 in the morning that first brought us some relief. Daddy said one terrorist was gunned down, he saw the body and they were verifying if the other was dead too. They just needed to verify it. Dont mention it to anyone just yet, he warned us.

it broke on the news 4 hours later, that both were dead, and they began evacuating guests when we knew, that it HAD in fact ended at the Oberoi. My greatest secret fear in the past two days was the thought that they could be plotting to blow up the place and the buildings would crumble before my eyes, and no one would get out alive.

I have so much to say, this was just my story. I heard my dads and thats another post.

My boss at work out of complete good intention mentioned to me tht people were being evacuated, so why doesn't he come out. Family does come first sometimes u know, maybe hell come he said. I smiled and simply told him, I know my dad. He isnt choosing his job over his family, this is who he is, It is an intrinsic quality, devotion to duty and dedication to the lives of others, something you wont understand. If i were to ever send my dad a cowardly sms like that, rest assured he would never have spoken to me for a long long time.

God willing, this has ended, though in some ways it has just begun.

I just wanted to thank my friends and family, people who lived through it with me. Prach - I love you so much, Vin and Sam who breathed easy only when i sms'd them saying he was home, Aj for being my telephone operator and handling calls from everyone at work and kept quiet when i cried and didnt ask me to be strong, Kos who appeared out of nowhere and stood by me, Niki who msgd me everytime a frnd of hers inside Oberoi so much as saw my dad, Ash who was worried as helll too, Nisarg, Shilpa who lost her cousin and his wife but kept calling me anyway, Sita who prayed non stop and now wants to go to Siddhivinayak with me, Nu and Riz who said 'Inshaallah everything will be ok', Kamal who put things behind her and called and smsd me, Andy Uncle who kept trying to use contacts to find out if hes ok, Devang and Pavi who kept checking up on me, Devang (the other one) who got stranded at my house and held my hand for hours as i squeezed the air out of it....I think I can go on.And I will. I promise to put up the names of each and every person who has touched me in such an unforgettable way, since there are so many. I am overwhelmed by the love and prayers we received, and I dont think Ill ever have the words to thank you all..

I dont know how, but i forgot to Mention B aunty, who came over in the evening, despite our vehement pleas not to leave her house, armed with macaroni and cheese, made us eat dinner, switch of the tv for a while, watch an hour of 'The holiday' and stayed with us till we heard form him the next day. I dont know what we wouldve done without you, your our angel.

I got this in my mail today. Jai Maharashtra it says.

1. We should teach our kids that if he is second in class, don't study harder.. just beat up the student coming first and throw him out of the school
2. Parliament should have only Delhiites as it is located in Delhi
3. Prime-minister, president and all other leaders should only be from Delhi
4. No Hindi movie should be made in Bombay. Only Marathi.
5. At every state border, buses, trains, flights should be stopped and staff changed to local men
6. All Maharashtrians working abroad or in other states should be sent back as they are SNATCHING employment from Locals
7. Lord Shiv, Ganesha and Parvati should not be worshiped in our state as they belong to north (Himalayas)
8. Visits to Taj Mahal should be restricted to people from UP only
9. Relief for farmers in Maharashtra should not come from centre because that is the money collected as Tax from whole of India, so why should it be given to someone in Maharashtra?
10. Let's support Kashmiri Militants because they are right in killing and injuring innocent people for the benefit of their state and community..
11. Let's throw all MNCs out of Maharashtra, why should they earn from us? We will open our own Maharashtra Microsoft, MH Pepsi and MH Marutis of the world
12. Let's stop using cellphones, emails, TV, foreign Movies and dramas. James Bond should speak Marathi
13. We should be ready to die hungry or buy food at 10 times higher price but should not accept imports from other states
14. We should not allow any industry to be setup in Maharashtra because all machinery comes from outside
15. We should STOP using local trains... Trains are not manufactured by Marathi manoos and Railway Minister is a Bihari
16. Ensure that all our children are born, grow, live and die without ever stepping out of Maharashtra, then they will become true Marathi’s

And they Say Jai Maharashtra. I cannot start to say how ashamed I am of Mr. Raj Thakrey, of our politicaians all of whom are scared stiff of this man, our Coutry who has no rights to talk of development when we educated inviduals hold innocent public to ransom like this.

I am truly ashamed. To my Non Maharashrian friends who are bearing the brunt of this, I apologise.

What I'm doing awake at this hour besides getting magnificent download speeds, and a stiff back is beyond me. Although I suspect it has a little something to do with having spent nearly half the day in medicine induced stupor. Common cold, it seems needs a combination of a 3-3-4 dose of the blue-yellow-blue-multicoloured tablets.

MANY Self prolonged random unnecessary falling-sick events have led me to visit a doctor within the first 2 days of feeling sick. This fares wonderfully in comparison to NOT visiting a doctor unless COMPLETELY miserable and then finally having to deal with antibiotics and scoldings by the new-enthused-i-was-so-right-you-shouldve-gone-to-the doc mother. (err, love u mom).

If you watched the news today, you've probably heard about the serial blasts in Tripura. Im beginning to wonder if theres a pattern here - twice a week, north-east-west-north or maybe bike-train-cycle-bike... Its just become a routine news bulletin -'Breaking news - 17 llive bombs found at xyz' or 'Breaking news - 5 low intensity bombs in xyz'. What is the Government doing about it? What is the media doing about it? What are WE doing about it?

Im sure even reporters have templated stories ready - just fill in the blank type documents.

" Bomb Blast in ___ kills___ and injures___. Bomb was found in tiffin/cycle/bike and left by two scarf/helmet/unidentified motorists. This happened in the heavily crowded area of____ at peak ___ hrs. Police are yet to identify who would be responsible for the blasts, and have so far arrested ___suspects. "

Has it really become that simple to disrupt public peace and instill fear, ACTUAL fear among us that the mention of the word 'bomb' and 5000 people got evacuated from BKC in Mumbai today, or that 150 people died of a stampede after the crowd ran amock hearing the dreaded word. Really, do we need Mr Raj T'rey to be spreading panic among Mumabikars? we seem to be doing a darn good job ourselves.

Its a matter of Public shame that our country is subject to these acts of terror, that the police continue to be clueless about how to tackle it, about how police forces and governments of various states do no work in synch towards the common cause of eliminating terror from the country. POTA is outdated - but who cares right?

As if quality of life - increased exposure to passive smoking, polluted envoirnment, stress related ailments and unhealthy lifestyles werent enough to reduce our life-span, we now need to worry about not accidentally picking up an unknown object on the road, (tiffin boxes emerging as the most threatening, who wouldve thought) or being in market places prone to bomb blasts, or tavel in trains at office hours, or being in a line at a religious site. This list shall be updated as when necessary.

The safest option emerges - staying home. If your living in Mumbai - you might want to reconsider - some buildings have a tendency to just fall apart.

Live and Let live anyone?

A matter of Conscience

Last night as I walked out of Yoko's - a popular sizzler joint in town, something i will not forget anytime soon happened.

As we parked, just outside our car, lying on the pavement was a man drunk and passed out on the ground. I missed noticing him at the time since Mumbai is full of pavement dwellers, random people grabbing a wink on the footpath and the likes.

However, when we returned from dinner, and as I got into the car, I noticed another man opening this persons back pocket and trying to pry the wallet out. By then we (3 girls, 2 boys) were all in the car, and I had surmised that this person was trying to steal this drunkards wallet (and later i realized, shoes as well).

Since this was about one foot away from our car, this man noticed and at that time generally looked away so we dint think he was being suspicious. He also pulled his hand away from the other mans pocket (who was still passed out) which led us to believe that he could be his companion, or friend.

Once we started our car and began to pull away, I saw that this man quickly put his hand back into the drunk mans pocket, pulled the wallet out, changed into his shoes and very inconspicuously shuffled away. Seeing which i immediately almost yelled, and we stopped the car.

The drunk guy was still in an inebriated state... he would have woken up today finding his wallet (whatever little money would be inside) as well as his shoes missing. We could do nothing about it... since he was drunk, the other guy looked very suspicious,and could have had a gang, we were three women after all --- all those reasons. Still...

I couldn't get that image out of my mind for a long time - and still cant. I hope that the person who was drunk and passed out to an extent that someone could come and open his trouser button, take out his wallet, shoes and whatever he had on this person, learns a lesson and learns the limit. I also hope some luck comes his way and he doesn't have mouths to feed.

That place

*sigh*

Coincidences anyone?

IT RAINED YESTERDAY!! And I, as someone rightly put it.. was in the right place at the right time. No coincidences this time, NO SIREEE! I was MEANT to be out when it rained first, it was a deal we'd made. Oh Joy!! Ive waited waited waited for it to rain again, and was counting down until it did!

Standing in the awning of Pheonix mills, i could barely contain my excitement. This thrill spread from head to toe.. i wanted to run into the rain, get soaked, splash into puddles, hug someone, yell out loud, get wet, get dry, go mad, wash off the past, bring in the new and top it off with a swiss hot chocolate from Barista. (with whipped cream on the side)

Never mind that this morning the sky is clear as clear could be, the excitement built up in me will tide me over for the next few days at least. Or when it begins to fade, maybe god can send me a shower :)

Ive done it before.. again and again and again ... talk about how much I LOVE the rain!
Its a complete treat for a romantic like me. The clouds which spell gloom and lethargy for some, mean dreamy, ecstatic fun for me. I left a lot of things undone the last rains, (somewhich i know will remain undone, for those are FAR too dreamy), but im determined to-do the others this time around. So here's my checklist -

• Sit at Marine Drive in the midst of a complete downpour, then walk down to Pizzeria and have a hot deep dish pizza.
• Sit in the corner window of a bookstore while it pours outside with a nice cup of chaii. How i wish Chabar had a window view, for they have brilliant ginger chaa.
• Drive down to Lonavla and back the same day. In all fairness, this was done the last time around too, but there are some things that just need to be repeated.
• Go to water kingdom on a rainy day. yipeee! MUST DO
• Spend all day getting wet, then get dry and have a nice cosy dinner with wine and fondue at Moshe.
• Have breakfast at U.S. Club in the smallshed near the Golfers Shop
• Drive around while it pours outside with a Caffe Caramello with whipped cream in my hand, and MUSIC (80's/ 90's english would be the cherry on the cake).
• Go to Aksa beach in the evening, get drenched, and then Vertigo for a drink :)

Phew. :)

Cats the way we like it?

Theres a new radio station on air. Its Mumbai's only 'Women only' channel. Err... women only channel? Do they not have male RJ's? Do men not tune in? Its called (wonder of wonders) 'Meow'.

Why Meow? Why women only? Not only did i find the idea ridiculous, but on tuning in, the channel itself is a waste of time. The discussions range from (hold your breath) 'Boyfriends' to 'Why Men are such fools' to (gasp) 'What women really want'.

The next step in progressing would possibly be discussing the 'Recipe for the week' sent in by an avid Meow listener im guessing. What a breakthrough in strategy . The channel clearly differentiates itself, carving a niche no one can (and will) dare enter - complete foolishness.

I wonder how i could forget to mention the traditional 'hello' being replaced by the (wow again) 'Meow'. it goes like this 'Hello abc, Meeeoow' and abc has to oblige with a 'Meeow' back. YIKES.

Someone explain to the world that we dont want womenhood celebrated in this way. We dont like cats, we dont like saying 'Meow' instead of hi, and we CERTAINLY dont like wasting time discussing boyfriend issues which for one, will ALWAYS be around. Men will always be Men and there will always be subsequent problems. :) Besides there are enough shows on the tele discussing these!

What we want instead, is an equal platform. Recognition. Gratification (from egoistic male boors who would rather die than admit it) for being the powerful assertive and rational beings that we are. Gifts, for being put through the confusion that surrounds male lives and having to help them deal with it. [Someone made on movie on 'what women want', why dint they just ASK]

A women only channel that calls itself 'Meow' is just moving in the reverse direction. I figured the COO is definitely male. [NO OFFENSE INTENDED] Its just validation of my initial guess.

The below excerpt from here.

Explaining the brand name Radio Today COO Anil Srivatsa said, "Meow embodies the attributes of a woman, where she can be all by herself. It symbolises spirituality, sensuality, professionalism. It is more than a cat call as everyone initially perceives. The cat is much more feminine, clean and free in itself. The various moods of a woman is explained. When somebody says meow four times, he can't help laughing. "

Really???? Thats how the womans mood is being explained??!!

Its no coincidence (Im guessing) that the channel is based on a 'On the air' host format rather than rather than 'jockeys' who host music programming. Since women love to talk?

I miss the midnight shift with Glen and the accompanying jingle 'I knoww your gonnaa diggg thiss!'

Cloudy dreamy Aksa

Cloudy overcast skies, and the raging tide. In the next half an hour, where i was standing as i clicked this photograph was not visibe any more.

Of Cotton Candy Clouds

Ok ill admit, this is a low resolution picture. Was taken from a bus ride home, while the bus was in motion, simply because the clouds were spread across the sky like little cotton pods waiting to be picked! None of the giant mass-like clouds were visible that day, just these little cloud-lets. :)

Zara Hatke, Zara Bachke.. yeh hai..

It is said of Mumbai that it is the city that never sleeps. True. Mumbai is the city of dreams. True. Mumbai is the city of heartbreak. True. Mumbai is the city of survival, true. Dreams break, hopes crash, faith dwindles and then a ray of light shines… a stranger lends a helping hand, a small gesture by someone near, a glimmer of light and then we’re up again - hope and faith rekindled, we’re back on our feet, ready to face the battle again… to swim into the sea of people and cling on to the handle of a train and make it to work in one piece.

Life is too fast paced and time is measured in terms of amount or revenue generated per minute- there’s simply no time to waste. And that’s the price we pay - time. We’re all so swept up in work and spending most of our time commuting that there’s no “ME” time. I think this phenomenon is fast spreading to other metros as well… people just don’t have time for themselves, their families or their bodies.

That said, Mumbai is a city that reverberates with the heartbeat of the millions of Mumbaikars, with their undying spirit and enthusiasm. Festivals and Religious beliefs are celebrated with aggressive enthusiasm, fasts are observed in spite of hectic schedules, Ganesh and Diwali are observed with fervent prayers and unshakable faith.

Lovers must love Mumbai I'm sure! PDA’s are a strict no-no, yet they find some isolated Nana Nani park or rock on Bandstand or behind an umbrella on Marine Drive to spend those precious moments together… where beggars, policemen and hawkers are considered but a small obstacle.

You don’t need lots of money or financial backing to succeed in Mumbai. This of course is limited to your definition of success, but all you need is steadfast dedication, ambition, relentless determination and ability to use the resources available to you. Mucchad Paanwala is a small corner street Paanwala who is now world famous. K Rustoms is a decrepit looking store next to Churchgate station selling ice creams for decades. Some of the best Bhel Puri and Vada Pav wala’s in Mumbai are small little stands, who people visit from all over Mumbai.

Noisy, dirty, cramped and overpopulated it may be, Mumbai is my city and I LOVE it. For the people who hold your hand whilst your running to get into a train, for the beggar who stops and helps you stand up when you trip, for the little kid in the train selling you rubber bands, for the thousands of people who took unknown people in their homes on 9/11, for all of us who weather heavy rain and horrid sun to make it to work everyday, for the B.E.S.T. bus conductors who inform you in advance when your stop is expected, for the Mamu’s you pay when you get caught breaking a signal, for the never-say-die attitude, for marine drive and sea walks and the rain and Jumbo king Pav and Esselworld and blink-and-you’ll-miss-em winters and for never ending BMC squabbles and what not. I love Mumbai.

Can't get enough!

"Get out of the way" she said. "Your shadow's ruining a perfect picture". He jogged away, her voice drowned by the sound of the sea.

And his shadows in there. :)