Frivolution

Attention caught, by the casual post on the wall


Sparks an anger deeper than while on baby’s call



I like, I like- I yell with a furious click

Corruption, scams, indifference; I say, make me wrongly tick



Spread the word, I decide, Mr Whoever’s hunger can’t be wasted

Ppts at work, one after the other, but supported him during breaks while it lasted



Lit candles, expressed solidarity, missed some friends, never mind; made some new

Got some beers , cheered him, men like him are but a few



Life went on, I swelled with pride, finally I had shown participation

With my air conditioned (f)revolution



But it got over soon, now I m back to yelling I like, I like

Albeit to the 1000cc italian bike



Ye , the (f)revolution , i felt like a soldier

I am courageous, my battleground- twitter

Run Baby. Run.

It’s a perfect Sunday morning at Shivaji Park. A dog gives out a lazy yawn while a pigeon adjust its eyes to the just risen sun’s rays. Children in faintly red looking white uniforms daydream while one of them yields a bat, ready to slog the next ball outside the park. And I am telling myself ‘this is it Sachin, this is it. You can’t do this no more. You will die. Really you will.’


Just when I am about to give up, an elderly gentleman who seems 60, sporting a SPMC t shirt, races past me. SPMC- ladies n gentlemen is Shivaji Park Marathon Club. The music playing in my ears suddenly starts beating harder and I yell to myself …..albeit in the mind ‘Run Baby Run’. Run harder, faster, longer…

Good morning Mr. Toastmaster, fellow toastmasters and welcome guests. It shouldn’t be difficult to guess that my speech today is about running.

Now quickly, I want a show of hands from people who run regularly. Not from work or responsibilities but the ones who actually jog…

Now the ones who don’t…

Of these I want to know people who they will jog in the near future… or ever in their life.

Thank you for your cooperation!

Body:

But the question is, why should I be talking about running? Am I a marathoner? An athlete? No. None of these.

But yes, I am running away from negativity, from depression, from rejection towards my dreams, my goals and towards life. I have always been in awe of people who run long distance; ……. forget long distance I have great respect for people who manage to run a couple of kilometers every day because I never imagined myself being able to do it. I thought that this or any other exercise was not made for me. But little less than a month ago, things changed…

A relationship which had taken me many years to build had come crashing down. Something that I envisaged to be a permanent fact of my life had disappeared in minutes leaving me wondering what next?

It was then that a close friend & mentor of mine told me to put down my goals and monitor them on a daily basis. She also suggested that I include strenuous exercise in my daily regimen. All this, to be able to use my energies positively rather than brooding over the lost love.

The easiest and the best exercise I thought was running. Better still was the fact that I owned a decent pair of running shoes, a music player and Shivaji park, the mecca of cricket and fitness enthusiasts, was barely 100 steps away from where I lived. So, for the past twenty days I have been running every morning for 30 minutes and I gradually intend to increase the distance. But there is one thing I already know and that is that for now and forever I am a follower of this religion known as running.

Whats so great about running anyway? Some may ask. Why dedicate a Sunday morning synonymous with lazy brunches to an activity so irritating, tiring and boring?

Running is anything but that- in fact its rejuvenating, uplifting and entertaining… and may be even spiritual

I will tell you why…

So lets do the boring part first: lets look at the physical and health benefits of running:

This physical activity is the most famous way to lose weight and to stay fit. Why? Because running is a rigorous cardiovascular exercise which makes you lose about 100 calories per mile while with other activities such as biking or walking the calories lost are just a fraction of these.

Jogging has numerous health benefits apart from maintaining weight such as:

• It helps maintain low blood pressure

• Lungs become more strong and powerful and with long periods of running can offset the effects of smoking on lungs

• It strengthens heart hence preventing heart attacks

The reason why I call listing the health benefits boring is because to say that the health benefits are the most important is trivializing this gift we all have access to. This relatively simple activity gets many people addicted not because it keeps extra inches away but because it gives them a high which can replace the euphoria provided by other damaging substances such as alcohol and drugs. And for us toastmasters, having a good run gives a similar high as delivering a great speech. Imagine experiencing that high day after day!

The physiological benefits of running far outweigh the physical demands. Running is also used as one of the cures for psychological disorders since it calms nerves. It gives you something to focus on except your problems and for the ones who do not have problems but goals, it just lets you focus.

Rob Simerick, a marathoner and former drunk, was able to replace the high of daily binge drinking with the euphoria of his daily runs. The completion of his first marathon after 11 years of absistence was a profound moment for him. Imagine that! From being a drunk to a marathoner, the journey taken on the back of a simple activity. An activity which comes as naturally to human beings as breathing. This is just one from the many stories of triumph that running has been a part of.

So, if you think you don’t need to run, think again!

To run- you don’t need to be fat, nor depressed, nor happy, nor sad. Run for any reason that suits you and in the process you will realise the amazing benefits of this oldest form of exercise known to man.

What running is, is a metaphor for the human spirit, it is our story of grit, guts and will power. You don’t have to be rich or poor to run- all you need is the will and running shoes and trust me you can find cheap ones at Bata!

it’s also a great way to know people around you and to get inspired. If you think you are fit, just run and you will see others who run like jaguars. If you think you are active for your age, then run to see people your parents’ age who will make you break a sweat much before they do.

Let me conclude by reciting two great quotes:

Walter Bagehot once said ‘The greatest pleasure in life, is doing the things people say we cannot do’ and I add to that saying: ‘trust me running will help you do things even you thought you couldn’t’.

And the one that completely kills it for me is what Clarence DeMar yelled ‘Run like hell and get the agony over with’.

So, here’s my challenge to each one of you, at least for the next one week: pick up running shoes on your way back home and ‘run baby run’.

The irresistible bitch, Mumbai: Her most tempting asset- Shivaji Park

By the time you reach this line (if anyone ever does), your might already have a few images in your mind with this desperate attempt at an attention seeking headline. Shivaji Park conjures up visuals of white uniforms sporting cricket aspirants practicing and dreaming of going on to become the next Sachin Tendulkar. Their clothes not exactly white but a few soiled shades away. To some the name might bring images of crowded rallies listening anxiously to Balasaheb Thakrey or his rebel nephew Raj. There might a few(very) who would think of the Samyukta Maharashtra movement which ensured that Mumbai became a part of Maharashtra , a state formed in the 1960s. But before you decide to close this blog window thinking it will be too boring with another such topic, hold on!

I can’t promise that this would be the most interesting piece you have ever read but yes at least one thing is for sure, this piece will look at the no-so-serious side of Shivaji Park- no political rallies or stories of grit and determination of Mumbai cricketers. This piece is purely self indulgent on the writer’s part who will look at the park through the lens… of his eyes. Eyes which a few months ago were not used to tree lined walkways, a promenade, a huge park or a ground within 100 footsteps from where they lived. Ladies and gentlemen, this is what a boy who grew up in Airoii, an unknown node of Navi Mumbai thinks of this middle class dream known as Shivaji Park or SP( to make it and yourself sound cooler!).

Shivaji Park and the adjoining area is a wonderful discovery each day with its many layers, many people and many activities most of which are centred on the park. For most people living close by and to some who do not, the park is an important part of their daily lives. It means different things to every group of people. The localities close to the park are equally interesting which offer insights into living in our endearing and hated city. But the park is a study of contrasts, of different worlds all within the same time and space. So, you could be visiting the park early in the morning to see many fitness enthusiasts jogging around its periphery with their ipods and fresh looking sporting gear. But the park centres around(literally) cricket with its enthusiasts getting a daily morning dose of the game. Still the mornings are not necessarily about sports and fitness for everyone. Walk, take a closer look and you are bound to find the nana-nani park on the eastern side where the not-so-young catch up on daily news immersed in their saamna, sakal, loksatta or the odd Maharashtra times. Not that everyone there too is quietly reading, there are many who just prefer to have a loud chat accompanied by tea served in plastic cups. So at any given time the park is home to different types of people engaged in different interests, one might be more visible than the other but all of them as intense.

People definitely add excitement to the park and make it a wonderful place to just watch the world go by, but it is the trees which are permanent residents and add to the quiet charm of the area if you ever wanted to pay attention to the sllence. I have realised that one of the best ways to spend a rare, free Sunday afternoon is to walk around the park and just fill your sight with the green and beauty of the trees at SP. Strong, dependable, shade providing they make the park what it is- a paradise for many a tired mumbaikars. Also, like many other spaces in Mumbai- the ‘katta’ or the boundary of Shivaji Park showcases its utility beyond being a place to sit. Visit the park any afternoon and it is difficult to find a vacant foot to sit on the western side of the katta since it is lined up with people getting their siesta, the benches too on this side of the park are put to the same use. But this is a sight visible only during the day since loitering around the park in the night is prohibited by the police. Past midnight - it is difficult to find a soul at the park - that can only be a result of policing in a city which otherwise loves to both stay awake and out until wee hours of the morning.

Another way in which the park serves its visitors is by allowing the young, romantic ones to spend some quiet time together. Some of them reach as early as 7am!!! Obviously, they are bunking college or tuitions to spend those beautiful moments cuddling next to each other on the park benches. Me too, I have spent a couple of very nice evenings- holding hands, exchanging looks and sitting close at this park. With whom, I not quite ready to tell.

But it is the evenings truly when the park gives up its sports character and turns itself into a hub of recreation, friendship, gossip, laughter and just the plan old ‘catch up’. The twin coffee shops Barista and Coffee Day overlooking the park provide the perfect spots for a first date or the ‘conversation over coffee’ ritual. Personally, I am not a huge fan of these western concepts of socializing especially when there is a bhelwala and a lovely katta just a few footsteps away. It seems that I am not a minority since hordes of teenagers, equal number of aunties and a few uncles make the evenings at SP colourful and put the katta to good use. The evening hotspot is the frankiewalla just off the eastern entrance of the park. Though an import, I dont quite mind the Frankie with its ‘as Indian as it gets’ filling. The day at Shivaji Park ceases to end without activity- even late into the evenings it is a common sight to find some joggers who probably aren’t able to make time for fitness in the morning; many boys from nearby neighbourhoods spend hours talking what they should talk about – women, women and about some more women.

To me Shivaji Park is a microcosm to India itself- free, diverse, lively, chaotic and cricket loving. But the most amazing quality of the park is its democratic nature. You don’t have to have ‘arrived’ in life to be able to take a walk here. You might say that’s true of most parks around the world and would say emphatically say ‘no, that’s not true!’. Most public spaces placed in middle or upper middle class localities find ways of shunning out the poor from experiencing their pleasures. If not that, then most make it intimidating for the not so rich to be there since everyone else using the park seems to be so rich with their shiny clothes and fancy cars. The park also does not stop at being a young man or woman’s park or a college goers’ hangout. The park belongs to senior citizens as much as it does to the youngsters of the city; it is as much a place for slackers as it is for the fitness freaks. This urban space somehow allows for a harmonious blend of people, no matter what demographic definition they belong to. It might be true that the park gets this nature due to the legacy of it being an epicentre of grass root movements and probably it is the not-so-rich who have accepted the shiny people here than the other way round.

But nevertheless, Shivaji Park’s democracy calls for a celebration over cheap whisky in one of the mumbaiya bars close by! Wat say?

Heritage: One disappoints, the other delights

Aunties from Paharganj

Rajdhani evening snacks

So it’s a Friday afternoon and being the busiest PR person on the planet, I was quite proud of myself to have managed to leave office three and a half hours before the official time( work continues post that for a few more hours). I had had one nightmare too many that I would miss to take the Rajdhani express to delhi for the weekend to meet friends and to travel to a neemrana hotel called Fort Hill Kesroli. More on the fort later.

Yes, so there I was, walking towards Dadar station, wearing my company branded backpack which would make school kids in Dhaka proud of the quality stuff manufactured by their malnourished workers. I had a bag nevertheless on my shoulders and sometimes that equals the melodramatic roof overs one head type’a phrase. Reaching Mumbai central fairly quickly I had more than 30 mins to settle into what is the premier train service on Indian tracks- the Rajdhani express. With the first blast of conditioned air on my sweat-lined face, I was transported eight years back in time when I had taken the same train with a college mate with whom I was about to become colleagues too. I clearly remember the excitement then-‘ we are on the rajdhani man!’ either one of us had exclaimed. Then came in the king like treatment by the coach attendant- warm towels, white linen, blankets- all to ensure that I was ready for the Delhi grind after a good night’s sleep. Oh and that was just the beginning, one after the other we were served food (which I thought then) was fit for a special occasion. It started with soup, then the main course and ice cream for dessert. Then night fell and the moment I opened my eyes we were nearing delhi and there was a delicious omlette waiting to content my stomach. And that was that, we were in Delhi, in flat sixteen hours. I could not believe it. The trip on this train was more exciting than having reached Delhi where I was to spend at least one year.



Cut back to 2011, Sachin- now a regular in the Indian skies, albeit on the domestic routes, mostly. He has settled down into Rajdhani which will take him to Delhi. He took the train since he thought it was too much to spend five thousand rupees on a one way flight when he needed to reach Delhi only next morning.



And as I settle down, the staff attendant hurries everyone through their ‘ veg or non-veg?’ dinner order. Its vegetarian for me, I tend to not like chicken dishes even in decent restaurants, so the non-chicken meal seems safer for me on a train. But the attendant does not seem as nice as I had expected him to be. Andheri marks the arrival of evening snacks-which for most bit is a disappointment. The cheese sandwich is dry like a desert stone, the savoury n sweet samosa is okay and the juice is the good old Jumpin which none of us would drink even if they were actually available in neighbourhood shops. So, that was the about the snacks. The most useful on the snacks tray was the paper soap.

After this, It was nice to be able to talk to co passengers. Three elderly people and two young executives were my neighbours on this trip. Akthough, the elderly and the young were not known to each other, they all seemed like one big Delhi family where I was the odd bambaiya. But as the unstoppable Rajdhani zipped past station after station, conversations got easier and they finally started to accept me. And in no time, it was dinner time… soup had arrived. The cream of tomato soup could pass off as a poor rendition of the rasam in a cheap udupi near mulund station.



Thankfully, there was a break before the main meal was served. Wrapped in silver foils with dal dripping on the tray, it made me feel that the irritating canteen waiter at office was a an international standard in hygiene. The less I talk about the taste of the food, the better it is-for me. They obviously think that paneer is versatile enough to b consumed raw in a makhni gravy. The rice and the dal though made the meal edible. Dessert was the token vanilla ice cream in a cup.



But the dilliwalas ensured that it wasn’t only a cribtrip for me. One of the boys placed his laptop on the side table and played a recent rom-com flick named ‘Dil to bachcha hai ji’. It isn’t one of the greatest films ever made, but hey what the heck? I hit the middle birth at midnight and woke up in the morning again to a waiting omlette but this one was just not eligible to enter anyone’s stomach. By the time I made up my mind that I would not eat it, New Delhi station had arrived. And off I was to find the next metro to Gurgaon.



So, this was my story of Rajdhani redux, a train which in my opinion has regressed than doing the opposite. While many in India have moved on and expect better service, shorter durations, the railway seems to be happy in providing the service which in many parts of the world would take only single digit hours. The complimentary meals are still considered important by them and may be they are right since the passenger spends most of his time eating in the Rajdhani. But better food, better presentation would help if the train wants to maintain the legacy of college kids aspiring to travel on this train. If good food and service are expensive for the prices at which tickets are sold at then maybe it is time to get travelers to pay for food or at least increase the prices of the ticket. But yes, that should happen if the railway manages to reduce the travel time in each of the 16 rajdhanis.

But here’s the counterpoint, maybe I am being too critical. May be it is still an aspirational train for countless Indians. May be my staid airline travel has killed the boy who found this or any other train charming…

Being a lover of trains since childhood, all I feel, is that the railways should evolve. And for nothing els but for the sake of evolution itself!

Ode to an evaporated dream…

Tender moments, stronger promises

casual wink and stranger whispers

throatful laughter with the unbearable silences

Dreamt together, dreamt apart

If love is labour, would have worked for any cost

Clasped hands, a soft caress; for the delusionary moment

Evaporate sweet Love; like does the endearing fragrance

All is lost but to what cause?

I am still here, so are you

Passionate moments, there were a few

But love is not passion. Or may be it is.