​ Dream a little dream

I have my coping mechanisms for a shitty day at work – listening to my favourite music, talking to my favourite people, eating some nice food, drinking a glass of wine, watching porn are some of those. Watching movies is rarely an agenda. Okay I’ll admit I’m not really a movie person. That gets enough of weird looks during conversations.

But yeah, since the release, I wanted to watch La La Land but couldn’t find a seat. After a month of its release, it was out of the theatres near my place. Only a few shows in downtown. But finally I decided to watch it online skipping my regular techniques to get over a long, boring day.

I’d loved the posters of La La Land, and I’m generally the one to judge the book by its covers. For instance, I would go for any Kangana Ranaut movie (I watched Rangoon and I must admit, it’s pathetic.) I thought La La Land will disappoint too, when it opened with a scene of people stuck in traffic jam start singing and dancing.

Oh no, another bollywood style musical! Not that I don’t like them, but for that we have our desis, don’t we?

But in just a few minutes in the movie and I could connect to Mia, an aspiring actress, and Sebastian, a Jazz purist struggling to bring back the glory days to Jazz music. His dream is to set up his own Jazz club, a place for pure Jazz and nothing else. He’s pissed that his favourite Jazz club has now turned into a Samba and Tapas place.
On the other hand, Mia, a barista is going through a series of failed auditions. Seb and Mia keep running into each other, they meet, they talk and they fall in love. However, after a while, Mia thinks that Seb is giving up on his principles of playing pure music by being a part of his friend’s band, they have a fight, she leaves and goes to her parents’ house. Meanwhile she (thinks) she fails with her ‘One woman play’ project, however, a casting director who attends her play calls her for an audition, she succeeds in her acting career and so does Seb, with his dream of setting up a Jazz club. Cut to – 5 years later where Mia, a successful actress now, is married to another man and she runs into Seb again, at his Jazz club; with a logo designed by Mia.

Okay, to be honest, I didn’t find anything extra-ordinary in the story. Screenplay, direction, music, and the cinematography is splendid.
But above all this, there’s this strong connection I could feel with the movie. About the dreams, working hard towards making those a reality, or maybe being competent but still having to stick to the ‘setlist’, or maybe just dreaming a new dream because it all seems so tough afterall.
While being practical and living our life calculating the risks and opportunities, it is very important to fantasise, to dream. To dream a dream that scares us. To wander in a fantasy land. To be away from the real, hard- hitting life for a while so that the dreamland shows us hopes, colourful vista of our life. This is the same reason I like to interact with artistes. Conversation with most of them take us to another world, a dreamland which they own. Some take us us there through their painting, some through their music, and some through their writing.

A lot of people who watched La La Land were at cross with the movie’s ending, but I thought that’s most beautiful part of it. Instead of going the conventional way, it portrayed both the endings and left it to us to ponder upon.

The end that makes us questions the cost of our dreams, the significance of loved ones in our journey, and the alternate endings.
Once in a while it is inevitable to take a tour of future, a distant dreamland that encourages us to live and not just exist. Because, as Mia’s aunt in the film says –

A bit of madness is key
To give us new colors to see
Who knows where it will lead us?
And that’s why they need us”

So bring on the rebels
The ripples from pebbles
The painters, and poets, and plays

And here’s to the fools who dream
Crazy as they may seem
Here’s to the hearts that break
Here’s to the mess we make

Never take this trashy bollywood dialogue seriously; ever!

It was December 1989, six months before my birth, this trashy dialogue was introduced to the youngsters through a movie called Maine Pyaar Kiya. 

It says – “Dosti ka ek usool hai madam – no sorry, no thank you” (Here’s a rule of friendship – never say sorry or thank you!)

And let me tell you – it’s utter nonsense!

While growing up, I heard this dialogue a lot of times and then one fine day I made a blunder of using it front of my parents! And that was the last time I used it. Growing up with strict parents has its perks after all. Since then I got a habit of using ‘thank you’ and ‘sorry’ more often than I should.

Sure, etiquettes do not decide how deep or true the friendship is, but under the pretext of a relationship / friendship being ‘too-close-to-use-thank-you’ we often seem to take people for granted. Not just with friends, but with partners and parents too. For instance, it’s very common that on your birthday your mother will cook your favourite dishes and your siblings might get your favourite cake. But rarely we say thank you. Or might just respond in a typical desi way – “Arre iski kya jaroorat thi?”

Relationships do not need verbal validation all the time, but definitely, there should be acknowledgement – acknowledging the fact that the other person is doing so much for us, putting so much efforts to make our life better or acknowledging that we have done something wrong. We brush it off thinking it’s okay to get mad at our closed! Yes, it’s perfectly okay to be mad, but apologising later is equally important.

Mutual respect is very important in any relationship – personal as well as professional and it starts from not taking anybody else for granted. The words are not the only way to express the feelings and neither they do the justice, but it all starts from these two basic words which I feel more people should use nowadays. I remember this old couple, our family friend – they had a simple funda – Whenever they used to have a fight, uncle used to bring her favourite fish home and start cooking himself, then aunty used to join him and they used to have a happy meal. Or sometimes when uncle used to be angry, aunty used to prepare some dessert (he was diabetic and was not allowed to have sweets at all) but this was her way to say sorry and make up.

I agree that we Indians are not hell-bent when it comes to follow etiquette. We’re casual people that way, aren’t we? But we definitely have a sense of gratitude and guilt and we have ways to express it. Just the way the above mentioned couple had their own way. And aren’t most of our festivals are celebrated to express the gratitude towards mother nature?

Sure, action is louder than words, but when it comes to basics, it should start with these two words. Being kind is not tough. It starts with using sorry & thank you more often and meaning it! 🙂

Be my guest! Really?

It was almost an hour past her usual time of leaving for the day. She was still at her desk scrolling the mouse and staring in the screen. Generally, her packing starts at quarter to six.

“How come you still haven’t left today?” I asked.

“Nothing, umm? just winding up some work”

“But you’re on Twitter”

“Okay fine” she turned her chair towards me – “my in-laws are visiting and I really don’t want to be there to participate in the stupid family discussions. Moreover, our place is small so additional people is a lot of mess and I don’t have strength to clean it up after work. So till Thursday, I’ll be leaving at 7. Hope that answers your question.” And she continued with her screen-staring.

“Sorry I didn’t mean to be intrusive, but wouldn’t they be expecting to spend some nice time with their son and daughter – in – law while they are in Mumbai?” I said this with a little embarrassment as I remembered the time when I’d done the same to avoid the nosy guests…

“Let’s not discuss it?”

“Okay fine, I’m sorry!”

As I logged off and got into the elevator, a group of people crammed in…. “Shift in a bit… stand cross…. keep your hands straight…. we all will fit in.”

Finally the indicator showed G and I got out of that mini local train compartment.

Isn’t it funny that in the times when we work hard to create our own special space, we also build tall walls around ourselves to guard our privacy? That we don’t like guests visiting us for more than a day, or having weekend house parties that last from 9 pm to 9 am….

Yes, guests can be annoying, especially if you are living in a small apartment in Mumbai and they plan a week’s visit. (Though that’s VERY RARE) But why I see that people in general have aversion to anyone coming home? The fear that someone will create a mess in their neatly arranged apartment…. the fear that their routine will be disturbed…. the fear that they’ll have to talk about something they detest or listen to the boring family anecdotes….

Once we’d been to our relatives’ place, it was already late but they requested us to wait because their mother wanted to see us and she had been for her regular evening walk. Her face was brightened up as she entered. “Saw so many pair of shoes on the rack, made me so happy that someone is visiting us. I love having guests over but these days it’s so rare.” She told us enthusiastically, still standing with the help of her walking stick.

“In our 1 room kitchen home at Thakurdwar once we were 7 people living together. Now we have a special guest room here, but it’s always closed.” She sat in her armchair.

I am not really a fond of people visiting us for more than 2 days, but on a whole I think we’re slowly going towards being alone; not lonely necessarily, but alone. Sometimes people love being anything by themselves rather than happy with someone else!

 

Sanskrit Class, Slippers, & Teaching

In my last semester of Media Planning class in Welingkar, the professor was all decked up wearing trendy clothes and accessories; (because – media / showbiz teacher!) she uninhibitedly admitted that she got late because she was looking for a perfect pair of shoes to go with the outfit!

Cut to my school in a tiny village. I was in 8th class and used to sit on the first row near the window and my friend Saurabh used to sit behind me. As soon as our Sanskrut teacher – Karandikar teacher entered the class, we burst out – “She’s wearing Paragon slippers” blue coloured Paragon slippers with those tiny dots on them for grip! Saurabh & I noticed and couldn’t stop laughing. Later, almost everybody from the front rows noticed it. She almost came running, opened the book and started reciting Subhashitas.

Such a stark contrast I noticed between the two people who were in the field of teaching, one, in a prestigious institute of India and other, in a humble school in a small village in Konkan. One, caring for her outfit and other, wearing slippers but not missing the time of the class.

She used to teach Hindi as well as Sanskrut. Once, she had beaten every student in the class and said some really, like REALLY MEAN things to us. We all were so pissed off because of it. But later when I moved to Mumbai & saw some of the guys of my age; I remembered why she said that and what exactly she meant!

Many of the young people nowadays get into teaching because of the fancy institutes and lucrative offers but I was lucky to have teachers like her who were not afraid to beat us, make us stand outside the class holding the toes, or even slap. They were clear of what they were doing and had their ways of doing things. A few days back my aunt told me that teachers in her daughter’s school are not allowed to beat kids. What the hell? Why? (Ofcourse, I don’t promote beating kids black n blue or giving some life threatening punishments as rightly mentioned by Jeevan in the comments below) Coming from a typical background, I realise how the traditional way of teaching kids work.

I’m blessed to have amazing teachers throughout my life right from Uma Pashupati teacher in Kindergarten to Dhamdhere sir during my graduation. If I start writing about each of them, it will be a multiple-part series. But on this Gurupournima, I just want to know how grateful I am to have you all as my teachers. Thanks for everything you did and the way you did it!

#Respect!

Cover image from IES School Varsoli Facebook Group

Fishy Fables

– 16th January 2013

आज खूप दिवसांनी मच्छी मार्केट मध्ये गेलो, बापरे, सगळा लूकच बदललाय हल्ली! ते टोपलीत बर्फ घेऊन फिरणारे नव्हते, ते कटिंग चाय खांद्यावर घेऊन जाणारे , आणि मुख्य म्हणजे त्या जाड्या, literally झिरो फिगरवाल्या कोळणी पण नाहीत !!! काय हे! ह्या कोळणी पण हल्ली मार्केटमधे मिळणाऱ्या बोंबलासारख्या लुकड्या आणि निर्जीव झाल्यात! I remember those busty fisher women in Chirabazaar fish market when I used to go with my aunt! Decked up with gold every damn day!

जेव्हा आई एका कोळणीसमोर गेली, तेव्हा ती म्हणते, “घे ताई, तेलबांगडा ताजा आहे! (आहे? अगे ‘हाय’ बोल, आहे शोभत नाही! मी मनातल्या मनात म्हटले)” माझ्या आईची सटकली रे! माशांची नावं चुकीची घेतली कि आईची सटकते! “अगं काटबांगडा आहे तो, आम्हाला फसवू नकोस तू!” आई म्हणाली! “नाय ताई, तेलबांगडाच आहे” (परत ‘आहे’!) आई जाऊदे दुसरीकडे बघूया आपण, इकडे चांगली नाहीये फिश! (मी म्हणालो, पुन्हा मनातल्या मनात, तिचा हातात कोयती होती! रिस्क कशाला घ्या?) but women are pretty daredevils, and my mom strongly believes in ग्राहकराजा concept! (In short विक्रेत्याला काहीही बोलणे हा आपला जन्मसिद्ध हक्क असावा तसं!)

आई बोलली “काही नको तो बर्फातला बाजार आम्हाला (बाजार हा मच्छीसाठी खास मुंबईतल्या सोनारांचा प्रतीशब्द )” आणि सरळ पुढे निघून आली. पुढची कोळीण (दिसायला थोडी सोनाक्षी सिन्हा सारखी) म्हणते- ये ताई, kingfish हाय! (बापरे हल्ली ह्या इंग्लिश पण शिकायला लागल्या कि काय?) मला थोड्या वेळासाठी पणजीच्या फिशिंग डॉक्क वर आल्यासारखा वाटलं! सुरमई kingfish झाली कि किंमत पण kingsize वाढते हे माहित नव्हतं मला! किमतीच्या वाटाघाटी झाल्यावर तिने सुरमय कापायला घेतली आणि ती सुरमय तिची सासू किंवा तिच्या नवऱ्याची गल्फ्रेंड असावी अशे घाव घालायला सुरवात केली… आई म्हणाली- “ए बाई राहूदे, आम्ही सारे खवय्येवर सुरमईच्या खिम्याची रेसिपी नाही शिकवली अजून, दे ती , मीच कापते घेरी जाऊन!” आणि ती कोळणीच्या शस्त्रानी घायाळ झालेली सुरमई पिशवीत टाकून घरी आलो!

To everyone suffering from the Monday Blues

The fact that I am writing this on a Monday morning explains the major part of the title! No, I am not fed up of my job (yet) but just the way we don’t really feel it’s summer until we see the Dermi cool ad on TV, exactly the same way, we don’t really think it’s Monday unless we whine a little (or a lot). Monday Blues are no more just about the love/ hate relationship with your job. Now it has become a part of the work culture. No matter how much you love your job, everybody feels blue on Monday morning. And for mere mortals like me, it starts on Smonday – a period from Sunday evening to Monday afternoon!

No wonder there are tonnes of memes, jokes, stories, tips to celebrate and cure Monday Blues. However, just the way I usually give up on things easily if  they start affecting my peace of mind, I also started giving zero fucks about getting over Monday blues – get all motivated  and complete the task in time. I gave up on that.

So, my funda is – be depressed on Mondays! Let the Monday blues take over. Be all demotivated in life. Let the Mondays make you feel how miserable your life is and how you just keep scrolling the newsfeed, reading the inspiring stories and watching the pictures of your friends backpacking at some scenic location. Let your to-do list scare the hell out of you. Let your colleagues get on your nerves. Let your thought of leaving the job be present.

That way- you know how worse your work life can be. I don’t think anything is wrong with that. After a great weekend, nobody is really eager to work and it’s totally understandable. I don’t understand the fuss about it. We hate Monday because it makes us realise the monotony of life. Be it our work, life, clothes and so on.  So just accept Mondays the way they are – boring and depressing; I accept it. But once I am done for the day, I make sure to do something – be it catching up with a friend, going for a coffee, trying a new restaurant (because it’s less crowded) going to the movie (also because tickets are cheaper 😉 ) and so on! Trust me, going out on Monday evening is amazing and more refreshing! And once I go home, I am all charged up for the work next day, I even do some work from home in advance, plan the week ahead, and also the weekend. So I think instead of thinking of Mondays as a work day, we should just accept the reality and be sad and depressed while signing the day off with something fun! Break the monotony. Happy Monday Blues everyone! 😀 🙂