A Parallel Universe

Mumbai, city of dreams, its India's proverbial El dorado. It is Where millions of people , come from the smallest of corners of the country, chasing their destiny and the never ending search for, what we call " The Good life". Few succeed and as in a game, there are a few losers too. Some make it big, some stay contented, and some live in their rundown shanties, always craving for more. But in this complicated matrix of the rich and the poor, the haves and the have nots, there is a common factor which governs them all. A factor which is ingrained in the fate of every mumbaikar, a thing that none can escape and it is something on which Mumbai's very existence as a financial powerhouse rests. Its mumbais very lifeline,The LOCAL TRAIN.

Technologically, the rail network is centuries behind its western counterparts, and it will fail every safety test that we are all so used to talking about. But the fact remains that it is the only thing that is capable enough to carry crowds of the magnitude that is common in mumbai. I mean can the london metro, so proud of its efficiency(barring stray bullets that may come at u, shot by the 'excellent' metropolitan police) carry crowds five times the mandated capacity, and u will know the beauty of mumbais local trains. I read it sumwhere, that the number of people standing at DADAR ,a very important junction on the mumbai rail network, at 7.00 pm, exceeds the population of Belgium, which itself testifies the wonderful mumbai locals. the very fact that they can carry one european country as if it they were born to do it, and still run on perfectly on time,speaks volumes. I mean which rail network, can boast on facts like these.

AS i said previously, Mumbai is a land of great disparity and differences. But such differences hold no water when it comes to a local train. Here a hindu or a muslim, an iyengar or an iyer, a millionaire or a slum dweller, all are reduced to the same group of scrambling individuals, trying to find a toe hold of a space in it's cramped environs. Adjustment is an understatement here, coz 5000 people cram into a train meant for 1000. And inhuman is an euphemism,if someone has to describe the conditions that these people have to endure for, a mumbai local train will make hell seem like a suite of a five star hotel. From the morning fisherman,to the afternoon dabbawala and the occasional dead body, the local trains serve every aspect of the society prevalent today.

And it is in these ghetto like atmosphere of a rail compartment, that u find the real human spirit coming to the fore. Given the tremendous hardships and hell like conditions that a , it takes more than just a human being to help others, and from my experiences in these trains,a mumbaikar towers upon his compatriots from the other parts of de world. No matter how crowded a train is, no matter the numbers exceed that of france and are nearing germany, a mumbaikar will always make space to accomodate one more of his kind, that too wid a big smile. And his understanding of others difficulties is unparalleled, coz if sumone runs after a moving train on the platform in danger of missing it, a mysterious hands always comes from inside the train, and pulls him aboard, and holds on to him until the poor fellow manges to get a toehold.That hand does not bother bout the caste, religion,sect or the social status of the person concerned. It is only concerned that the poor fellow does not miss his train, coz he understands the ramifications that it may have on him.And it is this generous and the caring spirit that mumbai has, ensures that the city runs at its peak at all times. Floods and messers terrorists, go to hell.

I have heard from others, that mumbai is a capitalist city, where people run only after money and are not bothered bout other human beings.All i ask these doubting thomases, to have a look at mumbais local train. Its the ultimate symbol of co existance, one which cannot be found anywhere else on dis planet. And whenever i see the people hanging from the footboard(and that sometimes include urs truly) with the secure knowledge that the the man behind him wont let him down, i know that Mumbai is a city of men, real men......

Crazy little thing Called CRICKET: Part one

hi guys, this is my first blog, and what better way but start writin bout a thing closest to your heart.Its actually funny, u know , when there are so many things and so many people around you, but the thing that is closest to your heart is a silly game. Speakin as an Indian,it goes by the name LAMBDANDAGOLPINDADHADPAKKADPARTIYOGITA. a real toungue twister isnt it, its also known as cricket for the ignorant.Here, One guy tries to throw a round thing with as much power as he can, and a guy wid a woooden stick tries to hit it as far as he can. and ten others try to stop him from doin the same. but nothin comes even close to an Indian heart as close as this. You may have guys boastin bout Manchester United, or swearing loyalty towards Michael Schumacher, But deep inside their hearts, they know the one game that they'll not miss for anythin is Cricket. I Mean which other game will allow them to sit in front of tv, give them an excuse to be away from work, and spend countless hours on analyzing the nittie gritties but cricket. Every shot is debatable, Every Ball can be discussed, And every decision can be hounded for an eternity. Football gets over in a jiffy, an hour and a half is too little. A race has become too mechanical, A driver today is simply an additional device in the already overcomplicated car. And except maybe basketball, American sports were invented by idiots, and are watched by millions more. No other game, comes even close to being contested by humans.Its the only game where the players, even today can make a difference. It'll never be overmanaged or overcoached,like football is . Nor can it be changed by some crazy fool, whos sits up in a cozy room, and passes instructions thru some device .And it also gives legions of jobless people like me, somehting to watch, appreciate and enjoy action for varying periods . 3 hours, one day, or even 5. the option is mine......