Summer is back ! Phew !

Yeah, summer in Mumbai is back with temperature peaking like never before and so is the compulsive habit of everyone fuming and fretting in unison over it. It is that time of the year when every conversation; even the brief one with perfect strangers is incomplete without mentioning how worst is yet to come from the dreadful months ahead. Like a true Mumbaikar, I too am obsessed with the heat and humidity and freak every time I need to go out.

Interestingly, Nature has subtly changed around me and I am ashamed to admit that I am guilty of not having noticed the beautiful change, till a leisurely walk in my terrace last evening. The reminder of summer blooms from the garden brought a pleasant surprise! Mangoes, jack fruits, badams, tender coconuts are flourishing on every branch and the sight is sheer delight. The evening walks on the terrace are going to be great fun with fragrance of Mango flowers bursting and tempting me to pluck raw Mangoes that are so easily reachable from the terrace.  

About few days from now, the gardener would knock at our door every week and deliver fresh, tender coconuts, neatly cut jack fruits, badams and mangoes.  It is our summer party time that lasts the whole season and wins me some brownie points from family and friends for sending them home grown fresh fruits J

I sometimes miss the simplicity of life that went by. Unlike the childhood, now summer is perceived in completely different way. The hype around summer precedes the scorching heat declaring arrival of the season. Suddenly, everything around is buzzing with summer camps, summer holidays, summer special hobbies, summer fashion, summer jobs, summer workouts, summer diets and endless blah around it!  

For me, summer was/still is about loads of fun and frolic, holidays, doing so many things that I don't get to do leisurely or/and doing absolutely nothing and be lazy. Summer means family gatherings with more of life and living than doing. Summer means life less complicated, spending the season without being spent. Summer for me means quenching thirst with cold water from earthen pot, having endless glasses of lemon water, lassi, sherbat and Aam- Panha freshly made at home. Summer for me means, watching kids lust for ice slush/ice cream, playing endlessly, enjoying life at languid pace without having to worry about homework and study. 

Summer for me means, being completely at peace on a hot afternoon in cool environs of Vetiver roots curtains (no air-conditioners can match this experience!), immersed with heady concoction of fragrance of fresh blooms of Jasmine and Mogra flowers from the garden. 

Yeah, summer is back with its cruel, scorching heat but there is lot to bask in this harsh season.  The palette of the season has changed the canvas that brings new energy, force, vigour in form of bright colours strewn everywhere and little piece of heaven wafts through in splash of colours bringing a welcome respite! There is lot to learn, enjoy, live if I just stop cribbing about the heat and focus on sheer delights of its rugged beauty. 

"To find the universal elements enough; to find the air and the water exhilarating; to be refreshed by a morning walk or an evening saunter; to be thrilled by the stars at night: to be elated over a bird's nest or a wild flower in spring... these are some of the rewards of the simple life." (John Burroughs)

Woman's day special

As woman's day approaches closer, print and digital media are buzzing with advertisements to en-cash yet another opportunity to make money. Nothing wrong in it, I agree, in today's times when everything in the end is all about money! I thought of writing about woman's day today but you know what? My heart is completely against it. Why?

I am fed up! I am fed up with the number of crimes against women that come to light with every single day. I am fed up the way we, as society feign ignorance regarding it and pretend as if these atrocious crimes are nothing but rarity. Sadly, the whole issue of crimes against women seems to be sidelined by the typical pitch of good versus bad, analysis of the crime, passing the buck for the willful acts of violence and abuse that reek of male power to subjugate and humiliate as means of self-gratifying perverse pleasure.

Today culture of abuse and violence against women has become so rampant and any woman who dares to stand up for her dignity is crushed in silence by overriding patriarchal system, lack of fast track courts and complete lack of political will to take punitive measures for justice.

I find the culture of "mass protests" (post recent Delhi gang rape case) pretty disturbing as they serve as mere 'feel good factor" in appeasement of our collective conscience. Political intent cannot be imposed upon, by the protests in spite of its great intentions. Any means of protest has to be used appropriately to hold potency to provoke discourse and bring the necessary change. 

So, what message do I have for this woman's day? Well, I don't think women need any particular day assigned to them to celebrate. Personally, for me, each day is a celebration. I am fortunate to have a very privileged life but there are millions out there who are facing tough life and are subjected to some kind of abuse every day. And my wish list for women like them is;

Women are recognized as flesh and blood human beings, with heart that feels. I wish that a woman's spirit that is often invisible gets recognition and respect it deserves.

I wish every woman of this country gets her fundamental constitutional right of equality and education.

I wish that we create policies that help in awareness and bring change in gender issues from grass root level in education.  

I wish that we get real and stop to beat behind the bush. Freedom is not meant for gruesome crimes against women at midnight. A woman's body, mind and soul are her personal spaces and not playgrounds for the perverse.

Wake up women!

The mad world of advertisements!

You know that feeling when you wake up with a throbbing pain in head; can’t focus on any work, read, sleep, talk to anyone or do anything that you would love to with luxury of time? And the only choice left is surrendering to the designs of this offensive universe that appears to be conspiring against you and much to your surprise, you end up watching the television or flip through pages of magazines looking at  the advertisements and feel furious for having wasted so much time! Well, yesterday was one such day.

No, I am not complaining about content of the programmes on television as I barely had patience to watch any for more than a few minutes but while trying to divert my attention from the pounding in head, I incessantly went on channel surfing and was amazed watching lots of advertisements that made me realize how despite having so many gifted brains in industry, having won so many national and international awards and recognition, most of the Indian advertisements are still so far removed from reality of its target audience! 

Advertisements are constant battles for occupying minds of consumers and converting them into buyers. Role of an advertisement is to portray product/service with its value propositions in such way that it caters to the needs or create new needs, aspiration for the target audience. Generally, in this process, the needs are magnified and advertisers play on aspirations of the consumers, subtly shaping their mind-set. Sadly, in a society that prefers to be defined by the brands it uses, where one’s social standing is judged by the lifestyle and the constant consumption, the impact of advertising is huge and is woven deeply with our daily lives. Obscene amount of money is spent on advertising but how relevant and effective are our ads really? 

In recent years, Indian advertising industry has given us some brilliant creative and effective ad campaigns but when one looks at the advertisements in general, its difficult to ignore the fact that the advertising world has not yet grasped the rapid pace with which the real world of its target audience is changing. Sadly, it is still stuck in stereotypes that have been used since decades. 

Seemingly, sensible girls lose their sanity and wrap themselves around a man just because they wear a certain brand of deodorant. A conventional Bengali woman gives in to the seduction, enchanted by irresistible fragrance of the deodorant worn by a hunk, amidst the huge family celebration.    

Young men flaunt their bikes and girls fall for them as obviously, there can't be anything more attractive than a guy with great bike!

Young girls aspiring for better social and professional prospects HAVE to have perfect skin colour (read fair), teeth, hair and make- up and how can I forget lingerie for the support, else they are doomed. 

Housewives/mothers, irrespective of their education and background have only one goal in life; to cook and serve food to the family 24/7. In fact, they are so committed to the cause that all they do in life is lead a very boring life which is reflected in the way they are dressed (if it is a mother above thirty, she HAS to tie her hair in high bun and wear specks)  

Today's smart kids know better than their educated parents! I am aware how kids influence buying decision in certain category of products but a young kid telling his uncle which insurance policy to buy, or telling his mother about nutritional value of certain food and daily dose of calcium? 

A cricket celebrity boasts about how to "patao" (woo) girls with use of certain mobile phone.

Men are always macho teenagers fashionably cool and the new generation young kids are Einstein reincarnate just because they are very comfortable with technology!

I can go on and on about the mindless advertisements. I believe, the acumen of advertising depends on being aware of times we are living and its context with the message of the brand.  Most of the ads portray stereotypes. Women are projected as sex symbols or epitome of virtue and morality! Men are always strong, protective and in control. I doubt, consumers can engage with ads/products that fail to strike a chord with its audience. There is nothing wrong in selling any products but there is a way to go about it. There is a very thin line between creative expression and sloppy, irresponsible job.

The people I see around me (and here I am referring to people from across all classes and categories) are smart, proud, responsible citizens of this country playing important role in society and contributing great deal. They know their minds well. And no, not all men are macho, teen-agers rebels and all children super intelligent. Women have mastered the art of finding balance between family and work, traditional and modern. They are absolutely clear about what they want and don’t shy away from it. Today’s woman knows about products and its value. She knows everything under the sun including which fragrance of condom she would prefer to be used and can say it without sounding sleazy. Its time Indian advertisers woke up to this reality and respect the fact that Indian consumers are not morons! 

The lonely Banyan tree

During my last visit to Baroda, I went to all the places that had emotional significance for me during my growing up years. And one of those places was a Banyan tree at the entrance of the society where I grew up. My head was brimming with lots of images and I tried to assemble and hang on to every impression that was buried in the form of happy childhood. A long, unending scroll of floating world opened up before my eyes and I could almost sense a lyrical stream running through it of poetry, of tenderness, above all of vismaya or that elevating sense of wonder that our scripts talk about; beautiful symphonies of birds chirping, fakirs playing upon harmonium on the side walk, a sadhu with grave face singing a bhajan and dancing at the temple, lovers in the shadow of a tree, goats standing on their hind legs for reaching out the lone leaves on a bush, the toy seller with his colourful clay toys and the garden where I learnt to catch ladybirds and butterflies! It is strange how some memories, associations tumble out inside your head, unasked, long after you return from some place.

The banyan tree was a special place for many reasons. It was outside the compound of the garden where I played endlessly with many friends. Its huge branches were spread between the main road and the compound wall of the garden, setting perfect demarcation for our safe world. The tree was a unique microcosm and beneath it was an equally fascinating world of a cobbler; a figure we were terribly afraid of but were drawn to nevertheless. He was  a great looking tall man about forty with divine smile of a loving grandparent and very intriguing personae. The only time we got to see him smile was when we tried to cross the compound during the play and he gently cajoled us to return to the garden. We knew that though he seemed to not notice us, he always had watchful eyes and was very protective of us. His hulking wife was always around, sitting on a small chair among the sorry residues scattered all around; the battered stove, the broken bed, one and a half chairs, a few utensils, the clock inlaid with mother of pearl that had stopped working at eleven minutes past four, a few decades back on a dead and forgotten time and date. 

There was something about the cobbler that fascinated us. We were very young to understand life but even at that innocent age we could feel the distress in his beautiful eyes. He was so used to rejection and disrespect that when people brushed past him or argued with him for the money or work he always appeared unaffected. The basic needs of his family were hardly met and yet he was always a giver in his own beautiful way. His inscrutable face, the shaggy brows beneath which his grey eyes glinted coldly had seen enough life perhaps. Squatting beside him sometimes were his three children with his wife, sitting together, eating meals without exchange of a single word. The sight used to be so divine that we would peep and often wonder how they looked so content despite hardly having much on the plate. The huge banyan tree with its massive central trunk and surrounding smaller trunks hung down to spread its roots but the cobbler was never dwarfed by the tree. 

Since I could not find the old man after these many years, the curiosity kept rattling around in my brain and knowing myself well, I thought of finding out. The cobbler was long gone with his family. There was nobody around to tell me about him. Everything around the tree had changed. The banyan tree had grown further spreading its branches but it was no more the same without the cobbler and his family beside it. Its plush surrounding robbed it of its character. New roads were built near the tree and the garden that I used to play at with my childhood friends was gobbled up by the new development. 

It is painful to notice landscapes get reduced to dust! Within trice, everything is gone. And all that is left is traces and smudges. The speed at which memories, images, dreams, impressions, relationships, associations, bonds vanish is overwhelming. Sometimes, in futile attempt, we try to hold on to them through our stories, photographs, art, crumpled, handwritten notes in small drawers at the corner table of the room and preserve them, keep them safe just as they were, even when everything around starts beginning to decay. As I stood under the banyan tree, the harried pace of life around it brought me out from memory lane. The place that once was serene had silently witnessed changed times. Surrounded by screeching screams of traffic on the road, faces dodging one another in deeply condensed lives, people moving into some unheard, unseen rhythm like a controlled chaos, the Banyan tree looked precarious. There were no children, no butterflies or lady birds to catch, nobody to play at the swings made on its branches. The Banyan tree seemed lonely in its solitary confinement and when I left, I realized burden of time passed by in all these years.

Art attack !

As I write this, I am completely soaked in a great creative high! The Kala Ghoda Art Festival in Mumbai started last week and I visited it couple of times. An eagerly awaited event which is oasis of art, culture, creativity, innovation and entertainment; KGAF is a great refuge from a typical urban existence, a space that serves as pot-pourri of intellectualism, cultural trends and mind blowing artistic creations that nurture beautiful, vibrant energy and ignite magical marvel leaving one transformed, energized and profoundly inspired. The greatest reward of visiting KGAF is, one finds it compelling to visit new territories of mind's landscape that introduce new perspective about art and life in general. 

Here are some of the interesting installations that I came across at Kala Ghoda Art Festival, 2013. 

"Dhanda" , an installation by "Baaya Design" 

"Dhanda" in Hindi means business and the word defines quintessential metropolis of Mumbai, a financial capital of India, with its throbbing and pulsating energy of glamour and glitter of wealth. This installation is a brilliant juxtaposition between over ambitious skyscrapers and vicious cauldron of urban destitution.  

The mascot of the KGAF, made with card board 

"Cycle chalao, city bachao" an installation by Rajesh Nakar

In the times of ever increasing petrol and diesel prices and suffocating pollution that creates serious health issues, the installation, "Cycle chalao, city bachao" ( ride bicycle and save the city) depicts artist's concern about the choices we make in urban living and how it affects our health, environment and quality of life in general.

An installation titled,"Samyam (defensive war), by artist, Sachin Chaudhry 

The artist's message is very poignant and he conveys that like tortoise that pulls back its limbs into shell, it helps an individual to have control over his senses and intellect to restrain when needed and have stable mind that is derived from self-control.

"Tarevarchi Kasrat", installation by Sonal Jadhav and Nikhil Borhade

"Tarevarchi kasrat" when literally translated, means walking on the tight rope and striking balance. In this beautiful work, the artists suggest that the city of Mumbai is city of dreams, people from across the nation that migrate here, come with big dreams, hopes, aspirations, ambitions and expectations to "make it big" and in the process often end up trading them in exchange of something for the sake of survival. The subtle process ties them up forever and sometimes getting out of that invisible entice is impossible. Here, different colours of threads represent different emotions, aspirations and ambitions of Mumbaikars.

!00 years of Bollywood cinema 

"Queen's necklace" by Swapnil Pednekar 

The Tetra-pods, representing coast of Mumbai, not only protect the coast but are silent witness to many love struck couples who lack space and privacy. A few moments of seclusion and privacy around these Tetra-pods are absolute necessity in this city where every single inch of the land is priced insanely, much beyond a common man's reach. Many a worlds are built on the basis of a few intimate, private moments near sea beach. Hence the tagline of this installation aptly says, "When you come here, all you see is love." 

"Sapno ka Number" By Shailesh Rathod 

The city of big opportunities, where any insane dream has possibility of materializing, the city of Mumbai is the muse for many insatiable quests for fulfillment of dreams no matter how unrealistic, crazy, selfish, greedy or audacious the dream, the city provides space to fulfill it. 

"The Dabbawala" ( the tiffin carriers)

Life in Mumbai is impossible to imagine without these "dabbawalas", an absolute "must" for middle class working people, they are interesting case for study in management schools.