Time-Sodden (Abstract)

Have you ever tried to squeeze time? No .Not in any literal or scientific sense .Not by applying relativity or modern physics. Not by working complex variables and numbers to arrive at a theoretically shortened time. But poetically. Emotionally. In a fantastic way. Take a span of time. And wring it in your mind. And just like liquid drips out of a newly laundered cloth you will find drops of emotions dripping out of the time-fabric. Keep pulling more of these time clothes and the more your wring it, the more you can squeeze out of them.

The early school days would be a good piece of linen to demonstrate. Pull it out. Stretch it out in your mind and holding both the ends start twisting it. There. You see drops of happiness falling. The bright hues of innocence dripping down your hands. Don't you? Put in some more effort. What do we get? Gushes of curiosity. Oh yes. They are cool. Unlike when you wring the somewhat sodden and well wetted cloth of adulthood. There too you find the rivulets of curiosity. But neither are they as refreshing nor so sparkling, are they? The dyes that stain the hands when you wring the latter piece are not as bright and brilliant as those we managed to squeeze out of the earlier baby time. There are lukewarm streaks of grey and scalding blacks that snake down the wringing forearms now.

But then a portrait acquires more depth with shades of grey than when it is daubed completely with magentas and peacock greens.

What colours would we encounter when we try and clean our cottons of our future? Would it be dirty and peeling colours of our youths? Or some stoic hues of brown and grey? Or perhaps the soothing tones of contentment? How wonderful it would be if we could wring out of an aged cloth streams of refreshingly cool wisdom! Would they be stirred with the essence of pride or pungent with vanity?

And now mixing a bit of physics into this exercise! Pardon me, all you real physicists if this does not conform to your notions or laws, for I'm as ignorant of the laws of Doppler's effect as on Comte's writings. But this much I can venture. Doppler says something to the effect that with varying distances the colours vary too. And similarly, would the brightness of innocence during our childhood appear as the blackness of ignorance when viewed from adulthood? Where is fear? Which of these streaks are stained by it? The green ones must be jealousy, right? What about love? Pink? Clichés! And sloth? Are there enough colours in the palette to map all the emotions? The varying degrees? Like the mildest blues of detached curiosity fading into the colourlessness of apathy?

Sometimes it feels that the clothes cannot be dried at all. Never drained of the stains. Sodden and heavy and colourful.

Writer's block (Nonsense)

On Leaving Mumbai!

Bombay and Bangalore.Or should it be Mumbai and Bengalooru?Either way the inhabitants of the two cities dont give a hoot.Then whats the whole hue and cry about renaming the cities?Politics.Newsmaking and attention grabbing tactics.Why else would precious newpaper space and television time be occupied by such trivial matters in a time and country where terrorism,poverty and disintegration of the socio-economic fabric is getting evident by the hour?

But we are digressing.This is not some column by an erudite economist analyzing the pros and cons of the two megapolis' infrastructure or economy.This is just a couple of lines to answer the queries of various mumbaikars who ask the question "But why Bangalore man..?"

To a Mumbaikar its unthinkable that anyone would forsake this city of sins and move out to spend the rest of their lives.Even to me,a softcore south indian,who came to Mumbai on the August of 2004,the choice was not obvious.Its after a lot of deliberation that I had to take this decision.So this column is also in a way dedicated to those who have stayed in Mumbai,love the place and yet hate it.

Hasn't everyone been frightened when they first saw the rush of heads and shoulders brushing and nudging their way through at CST and ChurchGate to reach the office at peak hours?Wondering how the tapori with the red shirt,dirty blue bandanna and faded jeans always seems lounging about at the same spot whenever you see him?The rusty aarey depot that has lines and lines of coloured milks situated at odd places throughout the city?Where else would we be able to walk out into the night at 11:00 for a snack and get caught in traffic?Where else are the bikes,The babes and The bottles?JW Marriott?

All thats there in Bangalore is a bunch of youngsters with "attitude"!And M G Road and Brigade road.Two streets that do not stand an iota of chance when juxtaposed with Linking Road Bandra or Marine Drive.No doubt Mumbai beats any other city that I have seen hands down.In sheer size and variety.A polyglot of cultures.Its a riot.

To someone who wants to experience life and try everything once I would say Mumbai is his place.Let no man speak of Mumbai as the big bad city.The way it is portrayed in movies and books.I leave Mumbai not because I hate it.But because I love myself more than I love Mumbai.We are incompatible.We had a brief fling together.But we are not made for each other.