Dharavi of Mumbai .....

Dharavi is said to be a slum, but one of the biggest in either Asia or the world. Even though passed Mumbai at times, en route to other place, never had the chance to visit the sacred place. Now the book by Rashmi Bansal and Deepak Gandhi make it a feeling. A feeling that makes one uneasy of not visiting it. Now reading their book "Poor Little Rich Slum". Shall revert after reading. Good bye, reader friends!

The Dharavi tangle.....

Starting Dharavi reading was rather easy. But once one is in Dharavi, it is not easy to come out. Dharavi people are simple minded having concern for each other near by, regardless of religion, region or colour. But the lack of amenities and space is always a concern. When one is illiterate and without an assured meal a day, all such thoughts go away. Once, the number of meals are good enough for sustenance, one thinks of a family and the needs of bringing up children come up.

It is here, the people of Dharavi wins laurels in that they help each other and has thrown up so many 'do gooders' who have selflessly thrown themselves into the realm of helping others around! That too, in utter disregard of the fact they would have made a fortune if they had cared!

Enamavu to Palghat and back...!

The bus stop was empty as the time was late morning.  The extreme busy period is the school time.  We were there by eleven of the clock.  But then there will be waiting.  Sure enough, there are no long intervals for a line bus.  In fifteen minutes the bus took us.  the sun `was strong, but the cool breeze kept the climate under control.  Trichur was forty minutes away.  Once there, it was the panic to catch the next KSRTC bus to Palghat from near the King's Statue near the Dharmodayam Building or the St. Thomas College. 

The bus conductor mumbled 'Binni' is the next stop, if not then the next one is at 'Shaktan'.  That is a warning.  Either you get down at Binni or else.  We got down at Binni.  'Binny' is a cloth shop where clothes from the brand name 'Binny' is sold.  Next is Shaktan meaning the famous 'Shaktran Thampuran' Bus Station which is the private Bus Stand.  Soon we understood the mistake we made by getting down at 'Binny'.  As we walked up to the Dharmodayam and Paramekkavu Temple front, we understood the Buses to Palghat are not coming there any more!   Times have changed.  There are new routes in force now.  The Buses have to be found out.  We enquired of the KSRTC bus conductor whose bus was there.  He advised: "Catch something to KSRTC Station or go to Shaktan.  We had already disembarked from our bus which was going to Shaktan.  Now we can reach by Autorikshaw to the KSRTC Bus Station which we did. As soon as we reached the hilarious Fast Passenger Bus was coming out the Station which took us to Palghat.

From Palgthat we were to get our car and drive back.  The roads were fine except for some constructions going on for a toll are near 'Kuthiran' mount and  a couple of other places.  We got the car soon enough, after getting off from the Bus at the Palghat Station.  A gentleman had driven it for us from Coimbatore.
The drive home in the afternoon against the afternoon sun was really good but for the hitting sun on your eyes which had to be warded off with the sun shade.  A two hours clean drive reached us back to Trichur as the sun was setting which was enjoyable.

The Chicken Soup....!

The Chicken Soup....!

I am an admirer of soups. Both chicken soup and tomato soup. My favourite of course, is asparagus.

When our son said he wanted us to have chicken soup, me and my wife were thrilled. He said he would reach it across and he did. When it arrived we were slightly taken aback. On one afternoon, he brought it gift rapped and in beautiful blue ribbon bind. On opening the rapper, we found it was “The Chicken soup for the Soul for Empty Nesters”.

Our son had got married the previous spring an our daughter a couple of years before that. Since his soup was only a book, which we may own in future, like all other books one owns, I kept separately to be read later.

The soup wasto be taken little by little, in the years to come. ! It was the experiences of hundreds of parents who had their children married off to suffer the ultimate bliss and loneliness of their lives.

We have a fw pigeon couples on either side of our apartment who routinely build and rebuild their nests and bring forth loittle ones time and again. Painstakingly they teach the little ones to fly and they fly away. The old pigeons are ready to rebuild and do another trip. However, we humans do it only once and when the nest is empty, engage in other activities or philanthrophy if we have the energy, some ofcourse, start praying for the long journey..!

I for one was not allowing myself to have the soup so far, even though it had been with me for the last four five years. But one of these days when I lost my sleep, my eyes fell on the book and I thought of going through it. It was about the lovd and angst and pain of parting with children whom we painstakingly prepared for life always under the false impression of being together all along,l as was the old custom in the underdeveloped country side. Electricity and motor cars were rare then and the lucky few (so it was thought) only went high up in the air in an air plane. Were “Chicken Soup” available then, people would have laughed at it. Times changed. Progress came. Countrysides started to become empty. Children flew off to distant places in search of nest and bread. At times they wrote letters, then telephoned and 'skyped'and always their work load increased.

The calls and letters became fewer and fewer and in certain weeks they did not call at all. Even if they did not call or write they still remained our little kids. We could never put away their thoughts. That is how I started to grab the full meaning of the chicken soup for the Empty Nesters.

Me and my wife are now empty nesters often times discussing our happy times to keep ourselves amused at the “wise” present given by our son..! His kissing wish on the inner cover of the book was “To Mom & Dad – For the youthful years of you two....”

The boy who made it to the Capital: My Father and the Fountain Pen!

The boy who made it to the Capital: My Father and the Fountain Pen!: My father and the Fountain Pen! I was studying as a border, in a small upcoming school a few miles from house, in those days. I...

My Father and the Fountain Pen!

My father and the Fountain Pen!

I was studying as a border, in a small upcoming school a few miles from house, in those days. I was around ten and almost looked eight. All undernourished children of that time in Kerala, coupled with various childhood diseases looked younger than their age. But we were fed well in School and I was picking up.

I had my belonging of a small box containing a pair of dresses and a little soap and a Kerala cotton towel. A sleeping grass mat, a cotton blanket and a pillow completed the belongings. My father had told he would come of and on to visit me and then I can have any money if I needed. I never needed any money as such.

The Principal cum Manager of the School a very kind and generous man, had, on my our admittance given us, a small diary to write our accounts even though we did not have any money. As I was in Class V we had started writing with ink pens. At least, we were allowed to. I had a few ink pens with their blocks and nibs which were discarded by my elder sisters who were in higher classes. These old pens looked good but there was the little problem of leaks from their neck parts. I thought that I can fix them with the washing soap and kept applying them with the same. It worked to some extent. But after a time when the flow improved with continuous writing the ink slowly came to my three fingers which gripped the pen. The fingers turned blue with inki which I used to wash off with the washing soap called 'Sunlight' (Or was it called 'Sun Lite' ?). As I was a bit lazy in washing clothes and all my soap didn't have much other use.

A few months passed and in between my father arrived one day enquiring after me. After his talk with the Principal, he came to me and spoke for a while about everybody else in the family (We had a large family with a number of brothers and sisters, which is huge in any respect as per the present day considerations), all of whom had enquired of me and had sent their Good Wishes. Then he told me that he has brought a present for me. He checked his large shirt picket and brought out a beautiful brown fountain pen -brand new at that-Imagine my surprise! It had a nice brown cap and a glittering yellow brass clip topped by a black plastic clip holder! I hit the ceiling with surprise.! At our financial condition any kind of equipment was considered a secondary need as he had to meet both ends for the family with his small incomes. I feebly mumbled to father if he really did have to spend on the pen or me as I have two - three old pens to which he stroked my hair longly and said “ I had noticed your pens earlier. They are all leaking. It will be good for you to write with a good pen. Even if we are poor in other things, we should not be poor in studies. It is my duty to get you a good pen if not many other things”. That completed the conversation. And he slowly wished me 'Tata' and walked off.

I was speechless and very much touched by his insight and kindness. All through my studies I wrote with that pen until my Under Graduate days. The present day ball point pens were not prevalent then!

On a Tuesday Morning...!

Getting stuck at home is not a very good proposition for men folk if they can move around.

On a sunny morning of November, I was easing at home reading the morning newspaper.  The permanent companions at these times are the pigeons who do their continuous singing..'h...m....hm.....h....m....hm....'  They keep on for a long while before falling silent.,  at times I got up to ward them off, but many a time they flew away by themselves...  Only to come back at the least sign of my moving away.  It is, as if, they are saying: 'this is our place, you move away'.
They very well know that these human folk are not that good a group to live with, and used to make homes only on tall tree tops.

Now that the tall buildings came up they are making houses at corresponding heights and my house falls in that height.  The carrying machines called elevators, are provided these days by we which we can conveniently reach these high spaces.

The news paper in hand had a lot of advertisements on cars which are being sold a lot.  Next come a lot of mobile phones. I don't know who all buy them.  Many be, many are buying them too as there are no space left on the roads and I rarely see any one without using a mobile phone.  It is to that extent, that many use them while driving as well as on the roads and at every place they are walking.  At times, I heard a phone ringing in the church in between the sermon.  It sure, rattled the speaker as well as all the listeners, their dismay is complete when the owner took it out and pretended to squeeze in a few words in hushed tones which every body listened avidly "I am in the church, shall  call back after the church".

My newspaper also told me of the doings and non doings of the political leaders and the connected opinions which I turned over after a glance.  A lot of ink is always put on these matters as in every country.  From the headlines anyone who are regular readers knew what one would say or would not say.

Then came the advertisement pages called "Classifieds" which is just a pain if you are not either looking for a needle or crowbar in the paper or very young in age.  The elderly after a long life, generally resigned away from them.  That page over are the pages on sports.  In India we sit and we get to read that someone has won a bonanza in America, Australia or some other far away land and feel joy over it. Never knew the guy who one nor does he know the readers.  But still, we feel proud of them.

Once their running and playing are over comes the great pages the supplement.  It is as if the newspaper runners knew that one would be tired by the end of their newspaper and needed some relaxation in the form of entertainment.  In this 'Supplement' section, one generally got to read of the filmy news also called movie news, and this thrilled most of the readers.  At least there will be reports of one film suiting each reader.  There will be come accompanying pictures too which all of us are supposed to like. Some of the pictures are of heroes whom we adore in movies and some are of heroins, those beautiful ladies whom we cherish to be around us, but are not. There will be write ups of the parties and conversations of those who are in the upper echelons of either movie world or the power world with suiting pictures as per the judgement of the paper they are published.

The paper over the reader moves in the house around to do other house hold works. Or further readings.  There is an almirah full of old books which I have kept of reading at leisure, but dread to go near.  Books once read generally create a feeling that we know it already.  And if the book is my own, then I keep it away to be read at some other time.  I don't know what is the case with other people.  To cut at this bad habit, I joined the public library.  Here I have to put myself to some inconvenience to go and get the books and there is always a date by which I have to return them.  This date generally prods me to read it and it has worked so far.  My hats off to the Library.  It works.


If ever the Library allowed me to keep the books as long as I wanted, I may not have read many of the books I read. Here in, it becomes time for me to visit the near by grocery store for daily groceries and milk and there finishes my winter morning session.

A simple journey by the Delhi Metro!

Everybody was sitting listless as the metro train moved on. “The next station is......the doors will open on the left” the familiar voice of Rini Khanna or some one keep on coming from the microphones in the compartments. Sometimes, the doors will open on the right as per announcement. Most of the regulars knew where the doors will open.

It is the new comers who will be at unease about the side of the opening. There are uite a good number of people waiting at the Botanical Garden Station waiting for the train. How fast all got trained to get in as well as use the automated ticketing system including the use of metro cards and using the escalators etc. We are a fast and remarkable people, indeed! The youngsters are fast learners, indeed!

Most of them had ther mobile android phones in hand and their roots going into their ears. They fingered their android phones from time time. There is an occasional phone talker who may talk aloud as if to make all around to listen to his talk. This was much earlier now has become very rare. The compartments are very good in their lighting and fittings which is a solace and with a great airconditioning system, one would have a pleasant journey wherever one is slated to go.

I undertook a journey from the Botanical Garden to Dwarka which was superb.