Vanishing Stars

I was in the gym when I got the text message from my friend Varun. "Steve Jobs no more" it said. To be honest, his demise wasn't something unexpected. He had been frail for a long time, diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. But its unimaginable impact on self was. I did not expect, that with millions others like me, the loss would feel personal. But for some reason it did. I tried to continue cycling , but the TV screen in front of me played news of SJ's demise again and again, and I could not any longer delay the sinking feeling in an attempt to burn some more calories. SJ definitely commanded at least two minutes of cycling silence from me. I just went home. I had a sense of some injustice taking place, some error happening on the Creator's part. I was not really angry, but rather disappointed. There was almost a selfish streak to my disappointment, because along with sadness, I had a feeling of  "Damn..now who is going to come up with those great designs ..". And I was further ashamed of bearing that selfishness.

Moments like these, makes us realise how much someone so remote has touched our lives, and how much we actually owe to that someone. Let me tell you "my" Apple story. I was never a Apple guy. I wasn't one of those guys who went to a coffee shop because I had a cool looking Mac. I was a Windows person, and am still a big advocate of Windows in our day to day lives.

But then iPhone happened. And it changed the way how I marveled at technology and simplicity.

It changed the way I thought of Apple. It introduced me to a phenomenon known as Steve Jobs. Although I knew who SJ was before iPhone and his various other accomplishments, I did not bother to be impressed. I regarded him as just one more silicon valley knight. But since I owned an iPhone - SJ, iPhone, iAnything and Apple have become synonymous with each other for me. I cannot isolate talking about SJ from talking about Apple or iAnything.

Apple changed the way how I judge an invention, any progress, any technology. Apple forced me to search for simplicity in things.

Why SJ was great was because he brought intuition to complex products. My amazement at SJ comes from my amazement with iPhone.To keep something geeky is not too difficult #Android. To make something human takes inhuman efforts. Right from the moment an iPhone touches your hands, it talks to you in its own unique body language. You don't really need to understand it to start using it. Its simple. It seems to read your mind like an old time lover. It seduces you by its touch. It leads you to discover her and amazes you more and more as you explore her. The more you know her, the more you are captivated, enchanted and you know, that you are not going back to anyone else again. She has you in her spell.

I have often had "friendly" arguments with my buddies, bordering on war, about an iPhone vs an Android. Its almost like a fight we see these days because of a religion. But then, is what SJ created any different ? Isn't he like a messiah?. Think about it - Apple binds people to a discipline, a thought process. People say that Apple only allows you to operate in its own rules. It controls how you use it. Unlike other devices, which I think don't have any form or function integrity, it gives us freedom, by binding us. It shares its love with everyone,without bias. It has caused wars, as I mentioned above. But its the interpreters, the practitioners who do that. It in itself does not intend it. Not to mention people are against it without understanding the genius behind it. The thought behind it. The philosophy behind it. They tend to label it too fast. Some fear it might destroy their originality if they accept it in their life. Some feel threatened to an extent that they are ready to accept anything else. Now, isn't that already becoming a  religion? May be, it does boil down to faith in some way.

Android is because iPhone is. Apple created the competition, and they beat it. SJ was a proof that an idea can be powerful. How many industries did it create? Plenty. Companies exists because iPhone exists.One might say Apple copied other things. iPhone was not original. Fair enough. May be it is right. The question is not really about being original. The question is about what one did with what one knew. Touch screens were not new. But did anyone else master the "touch" ?. I am not against Android at all. I think it is itself a well deserved technology feat. What I don't like is someone faking their un-marvel at iPhone. I think one of the signs that a product has really touched peoples' lives is if it becomes a verb, or a descriptor for a group, or an adjective. Like Google. Google this, google that. Or Xerox. Can you xerox these documents? Or Kindle. Or  iPod. Or iPad.

You either hate Apple or you are in love with it. Either way, you are touched by it. But there are no two ways about SJ. There is no other emotion but immense respect for him. I am appalled at people who are trying to prove how iPhone is a piece of shit or how they don't approve of Apple. Frankly its an insult to SJ. If its a friendly argument about why someone loves their Android more than iPhone, its fine. One is free to choose his or her phone. But really, does one need to go the lengths of disgracing the genius behind iPhone just to feel a tad better about their Android ? I think by doing this, iPhone has already won, SJ has already been proved right, again. Apple doesn't even need to try. How many non Apple commercials do we see which try to compare their product with Apple and poke Apple to market themselves.? And how many do we see the other way around.?

If nothing else is available, people start blaming SJ's taskmaster character. I don't care about how he was in his personal life. I really want to know to whom does it matter? All he did was never let his focus off the customer. He sincerely loved his customers.If you probe any person deep enough, you are bound to find inconsistencies. Frankly, thats human. It's not that he committed a sin. He just had unfaltering ideas of perfection. I have not read his biography, nor interested in knowing anything more about him. The image of SJ I have is sufficient to make him my hero, my inspiration. I don't crave for any more details.

But its not only SJ that we lost last year. 2011 seems to have been terrible. Too many gems lost. Jagjit Singh, Shashi Kapoor and Bhimsen Joshi to add a few. Is this a sign? Are the legends making way for the new ones, or are we entering a starless time? Or are we really facing the end of the world? That would explain why HE is calling all his favorites back to HIM. Very selfish of HIM if thats true.

Sachin Tendulkar. Cannot even imagine the impact on me the day I hear he is no more. I am going to go cold turkey. I am going to go into deep silence. Or maybe, that's when it will start sinking in, that the honeymoon phase is over, and life sucks. The fairy-tale has ended. Forget the time when he passes away. His retirement, which is now near, will equally hurt. I tend to shun imagining these moments. I was never introduced to cricket and then to SRT. I go introduced to the aura known as SRT, and then to cricket. I don't think I will follow cricket after the time of SRT.

These stars, they abstracted what they did, from what it really is and made it into a beacon for human achievement. SJ took "design" to the next level. Any study of a good design will not be complete without being in reverence of SJ and Apple. Any lesson in sport and sportsmanship will not be complete without being in awe of SRT and his discipline and dedication.

But its not only those faraway stars that I miss. My grandfather, a hero to me, also passed away last year. 90 years of  treasures just faded away. Someone who saw the second world war, the uprising, the British, the freedom that we earned, the freedom that we gave away, the corruption, the India shining, the Bombay, the Mumbai, the television, the landing on moon and also an iPhone during his time on earth just ceased to exist one fine day. 90 years is not a short time.And to live them in an exemplary fashion, to influence generations to come, is a basically a story of great struggle. What he left behind though in a family, as a family, only a star could do it.

Steve Jobs was a true wonder, a gift to our generation. Like a few others stars, we are fortunate enough that he shone during our time. The way he lovingly showcased his white creations, with that black turtleneck and blue denim, will always remind us to stay hungry and foolish. How many of us manage to do that, is yet to be seen.

And one more thing....he made us into kids again. He gave us a toy, and made us ecstatic with the same scream, the same joy, that was missing within us for a long time since we were children. How I wish there was indeed One More Thing...

27th May 2012
Nachiket Mehta

Apple's home page on the day SJ died.

When a company shuns everything and just pays homage to a single person on their front page, it speaks a lot about how empty they feel due to their loss. What I also observed about these pages was the same uncluttered simplicity that SJ liked, and which is part of everything Apple.

I think this is probably the most brilliant adieu to SJ

Expecto Patronum

"A Patronus is a kind of positive force, and for the wizard who can conjure one, it works something like a shield, with the Dementor feeding on it, rather than him. In order for it to work, you need to think of a memory. Not just any memory, a very happy memory, a very powerful memory… Allow it to fill you up... lose yourself in it... then speak the incantation "Expecto Patronum"."  — Remus Lupin teaching Harry Potter the Patronus Charm

I often felt that J.K. Rowling actually wrote not for kids, but for adults. Kids were just a medium, a channel. Because; there are so many concepts in her Harry Potter series, which I think would appeal to adults at their level of maturity and understanding of the world , which kids never even might realize. Patronus is deceitfully one of them. 

We know Potter needs it .When Harry faces death ,or worse, through the Dementors sent by Lord Voldemort ( I am going to name him as much as I want), he summons his Patronus, a stag, a corporeal conjecture seemed to be made of silvery mist. But what exactly is a Patronus ? Its hard to define it in one sentence, may be because its simply a fancy name given to something that we know, something that we understand, something that we experience often , but can't describe. Just like "nostalgia"  or "deja vu" for instance. But somehow, I connected with concept  of Patronus  very deeply and personally . And on my recent trip to India, I suddenly realized what was my Patronus was all along . 

I have to thank the unexpected delays in India for this, which gave me time for some side projects.Long time ago, I had initiated an effort to digitise all the photos lying around in every nook and corner of  our house. There were numerous photos from the pre-digital age , dating back to my parents' marriage. I often asked my parents about their untimeliness and carelessness with maintaining the photos, and I used to get a very typical "parent" answer- " Photo chya mage laglo asto tar tumhala koni motha kela asta?"  literally translating into the fact that raising kids like us was such a herculean task, that it was a justification enough for every accusation of laziness on them. The fact that their wedding album was also not correctly done, with numerous loose photos lying everywhere, is a mystery I could not solve. 

It is unbelievable how much time consuming maintaining photos  is. Sort the loose photos, merge them with photos which already exist in the albums, scan all of them, arrange in logical folders on a computer, put them back in physical albums etc. So much, that it seems the task has just started. I couldn't even finish 20% of the task at hand before I left back for US. But though time consuming, I can assure you, it is one of the best nostalgic times one can ever have.

On one of the these slow afternoons, I was engrossed in enjoying pictures of me and my sisters' from our childhood. This photo session had all the elements in it- pictures of various birthdays, the various birthday cakes, the surprise at how our relatives looked back then, the surprise at how similar we looked , the surprise at how different we looked , the ridiculous clothes we wore back then (or were made to wear), and the amusement with the cool hairstyles we had back then. Everything really ! Shortly,my mom arrives home from her office. She enters our room, and sees that we are sitting in a heap of photos.  She knows what we are doing, but also curious at the same time. She nonchalantly walks to the heap and starts sampling the photos herself. She stops and stares at one of the photos. Its a photo of me, as a kid , who couldn't even walk. But I am smiling in that photo, as if I understand the reason for my parents' smiling back to me, back then when that photo was taken. She stares at it for some more time, but now she is not really looking at the photo. Her eyes are on it, but her mind seems to have wandered somewhere else. Her eyes slowly became moist. And then she cries. Failing miserably in hiding her emotions.She hugs me." Please don't leave me and go back" she says. There is pain and love in her voice. And then she cries even more. There is silence in the room, as I try to fight my tears . I want to cry aloud myself, but boys don't cry. 27 year olds certainly don't. Also her tight embrace is making it impossible to do so.

That very instant I realized ,that my Patronus are those childhood photos.

Looking at your own childhood photos is one of the most beautiful , but also, one of the most painful things to do. It is one of the hardest. May be because, old photos, not only freeze the time at that instant, but they also freeze the future at that instant. You can see your "then" envisioned future in those photos. You can see it in your eyes in the photo. You can see it in your smile. And a certain melancholy grips your mind, at the realization of how far away from that future  your current life has drifted away. At how hopeless and distraught your life really is.

Those Dementors feed on hopelessness, don't they? On unhappiness. On the drought in our life. On our wretchedness . On our fears. On our concerns. Our shortcomings. On our lack of faith. They essentially feed on the absence of love and hope in our life. They deprive us of our soul. They are soul eaters. Do these Dementors then, really need to be mythical creatures , a work of fiction? I think we can feel the effect of Dementors in our current frail life without too much effort, can't we?. And I think they are winning, and they are growing in numbers. Just think; how many of us, think we have enough love in our life? And how many of us, are continuously searching to get absorbed in some or the other form of love? And how few of us, realize the worth of the love that already exists in our lives?

We have let the Dementors chew away our soul. Job, money, relationships, failed relationships, degree,car, TV, bigger job, more money,another degree, bigger car, bigger TV. Really? Haven't these things somehow made us hopeless,and taken us away from that future? Haven't they made us enter a race we didn't really want to race, made us colder than we wanted to ? Made us fall in love with people and objects, from whom it would be stupid to expect love back. But still we do it. The real question is, is our cold life really an outcome of nothing else being possible? Why are we "acting", as if we are the unfortunate destiny's child, destined to face sorrow  and less than deserved love throughout our life? Why can't we just be happy? I think we have chosen to be unloved. May be because, it is relatively easier to glamorize the pain, and stay like that forever, instead of having the courage to have faith in the power of love, and face the pain fearlessly. I agree problems exist. Life is not easy. Its very trying at times. But it is no excuse to give up on hope and love. 

We need to fight these Dementors. May be, all we need to fight for is a continuous reminder of the love we are entitled to, one that sustains in the worst of scenarios. We need to trust it. Whenever I feel down, whenever I feel that the world has gotten to me, whenever I feel these metaphoric Dementors are feeding on me, I think of my childhood photos. I conjure them in front of my eyes. I conjure up the happy moment my parents might have had experienced when they had  lived through that moment , of me in those photos. I realize , that my mom had cried on seeing those photos of mine, because the memory of that infinite happiness was too overwhelming for her. Those tears were fluid love. May be she had also forgotten that she could be that happy. 

It changes my emotions in an instant. I feel good about my existence. It matters to me , that I matter to someone. It matters to me, that someone still loves me. It suddenly makes me feel human, and makes me realize that I have not grown so cold , so as to not experience my parents' love at all. It suddenly reminds me of what I am here for, and that the loved ones matter beyond anything else. It makes me feel the pain and efforts my parents willingly underwent in raising me. In making me what I am. It again makes me realize, that living for your loved ones is all that matters. It suddenly feels cheap and cowardly to make a fuss about my current problems. I suddenly see all the things my parents let go off, so that I get a better life. It is strange how someone else's sacrifices can empower you. I realize ,that no matter how hard I try , I cannot find anyone else who loves me like my parents. I then cheer myself up without thinking twice and face whatever comes my way. Because giving up would mean letting down my parents' love. 

And again, love wins.

We don't really need Rowling to tell us that, but she got it right. A mom's love for her kid is the only real magic. That Patronus, that photographic memory of happiness and hope, is so powerful, that it makes everything else wash away. It takes  away my worries . It often makes me cry, conjuring up the same fluid love in my eyes. Jolts me back to the vast fortune showered upon me. Pure, unadulterated unbiased love,  which works magically to provide strength. It is ultimately love, and the hope of it, that is making us survive. That is all there is to the idea of Patronus. It is the belief in the power of love.

I am convinced my Patronus are my childhood photos. And that gleam in my eye, which shines almost as if to commemorate the love in that picture.  Its the future from the past that you want to hold on to. That you want to make come true. Because, somehow ,it feels that ,that future gets corrupted and ripped apart day after day.

They say photos speak a thousand words. Yes, photography has that power. But I think old photos speak even  more. They probably even utter a few spells. We should all pledge to not let the Dementors win.We should all find our Patronuses- it could be a song,a photo,a kiss, the emotion behind it, a person, an object , a thought- we all need it.Tap into the magic that is- for it is indeed around us , and for us to use. Because we are all really just wizards.

Allow it to fill you up... lose yourself in it... then speak the incantation "Expecto Patronum" !

29th June 2011

Nachiket Mehta

Note: Not quite the photos in question, but some memories from my side project :-

The Wannabe Black

The Old "Faithful"

The Good Boy

Hipnaughtyic Realm

Most of you out there , must have debated, sometime or the other, whether hypnosis is real or not. And further, must have made a mental note "Ha !.. I cannot ever get hypnotized. Its for the weak ". I was of the same opinion, until I saw an amazing performance. Jason Mystic was the performer. Well, I was not any of his subjects, but there were some amazing curious interesting weird things in his performance which struck me.

It was supposed to be "comedy" hypnosis show, which meant, that nothing went overboard. Jason took care of that. But then, while we were enjoying our food before the show, he was already there, scanning us, and making a mental note of who would be his probable subjects. Once on stage, he made us perform a simple exercise. He told us to do something ,verbally, but then himself did some thing else,actually. For e.g he said "put your fist to your cheek". And then he would actually put it to his chin. And we , who were following him, did the same. But there were some, who did put their fist to their cheek. And those were the guys he was looking out for. He wanted those subjects who would respond to his vocal commands.

I wouldn't mention the usual stuff that these hypnotists do, but I found 2-3 things particularly interesting. He had these two people, a guy and a girl, under deep trance. How he did that, is a different question altogether, and equally intriguing, but he managed to get his bunch of subjects in various "zones" of hypnotic control. Which essentially meant, that these subjects were alive and responsive, aware of us, the audience too, but they would listen and do only what Jason said. It was like having the control from your own mind shut off momentarily, and let it be controlled by something else.

He told the guy, that he was , from now on, an interpreter of Martian languages. And he told the girl, that she could speak only Martian. Both nodded to what he said, and assumed the roles he gave them. Jason asked the guy "So, you know Martian, eh? How long have you known Martian?".The guy replies to Jason, in English "For 18 years now. I can speak in 52 different dialects of Martian". This was amazing. Jason said he had never heard such an answer before. Then he told the guy to ask the girl where she was from . The guy spoke to the girl in some incomprehensible language, which was his version of Martian. The girl replied in an equally "woo maan fchiow juaa fooo teenii krree" language, which was her own version of Martian. Hearing back the reply, the guy told Jason that the girl said she is from a small town on Mars !! This continued for some time.At one point, the guy complained that the girl is speaking a dialect he can't understand, but for most of their conversation, the guy was speaking Martian, the girl was replying Martian, and the guy was translating that back to English! By Martian, I mean incomprehensible ,deep, gurgling like sounds.

How was this possible ?. I mean, prior to being told that they can understand Martian, these people had not even heard what they spoke. They had no idea about Martian, or the questions they would be asked.But still the guy said he has been doing this for 18 years and knows 52 dialects?This was something created by his own mind, in response to what Jason said. It was like, if he knew Martian, this is how he would want the reality to be. 18 years of experience and 52 dialects!

Secondly, the Martian that they both supposedly spoke seemed to be different dialects. But they both carried on perfectly sane conversation. By this, I mean that he used to translate back a logically correct answer to the question he had asked in Martian, and was replied to in Martian. I mean, a question about a living place, would get back a name of a place as an answer, and not the name of a person etc. How was this possible? Obviously, Jason was the link. When he used to tell the guy to ask the girl "ask her where does she come from", this used to be English. And must have been heard by both the girl and the boy, subconsciously. I say subconsciously, because, at the current conscious level, they were speaking Martian, and could not have understood it( except of course for the boy, who being a interpreter,knew English as well). But once they subconsciously understood the question, whatever the girl replied back in Martian, he would assume or feel he understood it, and give back a logically correct answer which was actually his own making. There is no way he could have actually understood what the girl spoke

The reason for this example, is because I want to point out the amazing mind,which indeed is conscious at so many levels at the same time. And it used the information from another level of consciousness , for processing the information at the current level of consciousness. And even more surprising is that this exchange of information happened seamlessly, and effortlessly and logically.

One more interesting example was where he asked a bunch of guys under hypnotic trance to assume that they were kids about to visit a "pet zoo", a zoo where they can touch animals. He said that we, the audience, were the animals. And he let them free for some time amongst us to go and touch us. These bunch of "kids", came and touched us on the head, were excited, called each other, made sounds of glee, and went back to some other "animal". This went on for some time, before Jason called them back. He then asked each one of them , to name their favorite animal and point to it. One of the guys pointed to a guy on our table, and said he liked that "rhinoceros". One more pointed out to someone else saying he liked that "billy goat". I was astonished. The reason is, that the faces of these pointed people, resembled , in an animation sense, the animals that they were told to be!

I mean the billy goat guy, had a long face, had slightly pointed ears, and had slightly the low hanging goat beard! If you had asked a non hypnotised guy to name an animal that resembled that guy, he would have probably come up with the same answer. Or if you had told someone to draw an animal caricature for that billy goat person, he would have drawn the face of billy goat !The rhinoceros guy had the haircut, face and eyes which would have made him an animated rhinoceros as well. There was one more, who was told to be a "teddy bear". He had a round face, and fluffy hair, which again would have made him look like one in an animated version of himself.

Again, the mind used the information we have of animations and real animals, subconsciously, to make a new image of the people they were actually seeing, to perceive them as animals that they liked. This is extraordinary . This is the same way the mind would use exactly the same information I mentioned ,to draw an animal caricature of someone. Again a seamless exchange of information, even when the purpose changed.

This reiterates, that indeed, what we have been hearing that the mind is capable of much more than we ever put it to use to, is very very true. We hardly use all the information our mind is capable of processing. We are trying hard to push the boundaries of neuro stimulation to understand what goes on in there. This has so longed intrigued us,that we can see the desire to understand our mind, and an effort to fathom it,master it, in all facets of our life. Including movies. For Matrix lovers, this translates into what Morpheus told Neo - "Don't think you can, know you can " ! Advertisements use our subconscious mind all the time. It might not be surprising to find, once we are voluntarily able to access our subconscious mind, that it is filled with one liners from all the advertisements. Good leaders and orators have been doing what the hypnotists do for a long long time. Brainwashing, is scientific after all. Hitler, has been said to have this effect on millions of people when he spoke. Religious leaders across the world, use this to their advantage. Religion, is so superficial, that the fact that it might require a subconscious mind to accept it, is indeed disheartening. And it would be even more disheartening , if we are able to explain "love" when we start understanding the mind.It would be extremely disappointing, to know ,that love was after all, a type of hypnosis.Have you ever thought why you know, when you meet the right person, that he or she is the right person? Because the Martian in you, is communicating with the Martian in the other, and yelling that "its me" .

I am amazed with the mind. I hope someday, the human mind, can fathom itself. After the show, Jason wanted to thank the participants. As a gesture of appreciation, for their willingness to participate, he told them, when they were still under his trance, that henceforth , they would be able to read and understand 20 % faster than they currently do.And then he took them out of hypnotic hold. He then told, that in fact, contrary to what we might think that these people are weak, because they could go under his hypnotic control so easily, he said that these people were in fact better at concentration, because they could go into hypnosis, only because they could shut out everything else except his voice commands. If this is true, I would want to get that gift as well. After all, as they say, its all in the mind.

Nachiket Mehta

18th July 09

Bombay in my soul

Some experiences leave you thinking.Some make you introspect.Some leave you humbled.Some leave you numb.Others make you exalt.They make you see life.Some even leave you confused.And some make you fall in love. Mumbai; gives you everything.

Enough has been said about Mumbai actually, not to mention the countless writings and movies based on it. So much that it had almost become the great Indian dream-to come to "Bombay" and see their fate take a turn.This is because Mumbai; by its very presence ;reminds you of hope, of dreams coming true, of what a common man might become, with of course a little bit of luck. And that is exactly what most of the people who come to Mumbai wish-a little bit of luck.

I used to visit my grandparents at Girgaon.I used to catch a train to VT then.But then, (to my disappointment..), they shifted to Vashi.And then it was always the bus journey to Mumbai for many many years.Somehow, going by bus doesnt quite fit the bill. It feels stupid to go to Mumbai by bus.The other day I heard a catchy tune on Mirchi. So catchy that I limewired it .And it turned out that it was from a movie titled "Ek Chalis ki Aakhri Local".. and there's a dude in the song who says "Mumbai- suna hai yahan pe sari zindagi slow track se fast track jaane mein nikal jaati hai" ..and it got me thinking for while.I thought I would like to experience this.And as we know, coincidences do happen in the most unexpected places, I had to go to "Mumbai" due to some urgent work..and that too by train!! I was as excited as a small kid who is about to go on his first train journey.

So, the good old Deccan Queen lent me wheels, I mean many wheels, to Bombay.I was sitting by the window,... almost by the window actually, (there was this stupid, IITian looking guy sitting at the window seat and not even looking out of the window!! ) and guess what.. I see a girl almost exactly like Amrita Rao. She was with her group of friends and almost in the next bogie...sha !! As we know, coincidences do not happen when we want them.!! The train journey was pretty pleasant, with my chinese make duplicate ipod and the typical Deccan Queen cutlets.One guy actually changed, (only his shirt..), in the train.When asked, he replied that he had no other option.With Mumbai's weather, if one is going to a function or something , one has to change clothes in public.Interesting I thought. I almost blurted out ,"look at me..I am also going to a wedding"..but I was on foreign ground, so thought better to shut up. Yes , the journey was definitely pleasant.

Mumbai doesnt come unscented. I mean you get this typical smell when that vertical strip of land on Maharashtra's west coast is approaching, and the smell is actually not of the land, but of the sea.And later, this scent is crudely mixed with toxic gutters and sweat.Uh !! I know, but one can't do anything about it, it simply isn't available in unscented variety.!! I came to know my uncle was in the same train, but a different bogie and he was also heading for the same wedding.Did I say coincidences happen when you least expect them ? Well some how I managed to find him through the crowd and we boarded a taxi. Now, please do not expect that you would be having a Nana Patekar like taxi driver.In fact I was on a alert and looking out for all signs of that taxi driver hoodwinking me.But thats where I went wrong.

The taxi driver actually turned out to be very friendly.He was sharp too.Just by looking at my uncle, he rightly guessed he was a doctor.From his talks, I concluded he was quite well educated also.He in fact took us by the shortest path.Just when we were about to reach the marriage hall, he stopped the vehicle.He suggested we get down and cross the road, else for a taxi to take a long U and come back, it would cost us at least 25 Rs more.I was surprised.I was in Mumbai, where one is supposed to make money by hook or crook...and here was a guy who was actually letting go 25 Rs? My uncle was surprised too.He literally asked him to explain why he would let go the money.The taxi driver smiled and coolly replied " Paachis rupaye ki koi kimat nahi hai sahab, aap yahi se chale jaiye.." This was probably my first encounter with the soul of Mumbai.

The soul of Mumbai does exist and you would experience that once you give in to the city.Imagine you are at a bus stop daily, and there are other regular travellers too.People in Pune probably wouldn't bother.But its different in Mumbai.In Mumbai, you would not talk on the first day, lets say on the second day too, but on the third day, you know the other person's name at least.And in the course of time, he's an acquaintance and you probably know about his family also.

You literally feel the difference between Mumbai and other cities in a very subtle but definite way.I was coming to my grandfather's house from Vashi railway station in a rickshaw.We stopped at a traffic signal, and there a small girl,must be aged about 10, came up to sell flower garlands, or "gajre" as we call them.My mom asked her the price just out of curiosity..she replied "dus ka do memsahab".My mom said ,"nahi chahiye".The girl insisted we buy them and offered "dus ka teen lena memsahab..".Still my mom wasn't convinced.She probably had Pune prices in her mind.The girl kept insisting we buy from her..and offered "dus ka char.."..now by this time I was a bit angry with my mom.I told my mom she shouldn't have entertained that girl in the first place if she wasn't actually interested in buying the garlands.I felt we were taking advantage of that girl, and that poor girl was bringing down the prices like anything.I told my mother to buy something now.Reluctantly my mother did buy four for ten. I think the girl somehow gathered that it was because of me that my mother bought it.And was she grateful? ..She said one of the sweetest "Thank you" to me.I was taken aback by the sweetness and the fact that she spoke in English.And then she ran away.How many times do we say thank you even when we should.?

Then, at that other time when I was at VT, trying to catch a local, I was mesmerised by the rush and speed of people walking.The blur of people which we see in the movies, is not camera effects. People really move at that speed and the net effect of thousands of people moving at such speed in a small space is mind boggling.If you stand still and keep watching, chances are that you would go dizzy.And at such a place too; people find time to exlplain you how to read and interpret the complex displays which show the time tables for local trains !

Drive through Marine Drive and you would know what a "drive" is.That strip of road is an epitome of Mumbai.Somehow driving through that road gives you a feeling of achievement, a feeling that you can win the world.Somewhere in the back of your mind, the sound of waves lashing against the concrete walls keeps ringing in your ears.The road looks awesome during the night too; like a slim and sexy gold necklace.One feels confident and powerful when he rides on this road.And let me tell you, that is one of the most hep areas of Mumbai. And from that the first thing that comes to my mind is the crowd, and from that obviously the topic that comes to my mind is ,yes.,"girls".

One word for Mumbai girls..."WOW". I am in love with Mumbai girls.Man , can they carry themselves or what? Boys watch out. I have literally seen confidence radiating out of these girls.A look which says.."Life I will face you one on one". I mean, just see how even an average looking Mumbai gal would dress up-perfectly cut out and suiting the occasion.Extremely elegant and graceful. Chin up, they walk the streets of Mumbai. People, it takes guts to walk that way in Mumbai. Its not a safe city by any means and with the crowd in those buses ,locals , railway stations,and with that weather too, I would think twice before letting my sisters go out there. But these gals walk with "Don't mess with me " kind of message. Extremely smart. I simply love them.And I am not comparing with girls from other metropolitian cities, but then even though they also have similar characteristics, there is somehow some delicateness and inherent feminism and softness in Mumbai girls in a very subtle way,which is probably missing in the other cases, which could be because Mumbai humbles you very early in life and teaches you to face it. I still remember , I saw this fair girl from the bus window; she was waiting for some other bus. Man! She was looking very smart,wearing a black top, chewing a bubble gum, the breeze from the sea blowing her hair haywire on her face, and she not caring to straighten it.In one hand she had a keychain which she was revolving in an extremely nonchalant way.She could have ruled some kingdom in her previous life I can bet. And did I wish hard she would board my bus..but then again..coincidences do not happen when we want them to happen!! I cannot just forget that image. The rotating keychain was just so symbolic of her confidence and "I can stand on my feet" attitude. I am loving it.

So much for the day in the city, but even the night doesnt dampen the spirits of this place.The city comes to life with renewed vigour.Half the population, tired from the day, suddenly wakes up to get its due enjoyment and the other half, lives during the night anyway.Mumbai is colorful and looks extremely seductive during these nocturnal hours.Its lit tall buildings, as if beacons for the people coming to it from various roads,look very esquisite.Mumbai night is like a mistress-seductive,sexy,and intoxicating but at the same time dangerous.And we all know of the glamour world out there in the after hours and the famous (infamous) underworld of the city which resurfaces every night.I guess every night in this city is like a well scripted thriller. A person getting out of the house into the Mumbai night doesn't necessarily believe he might come back.But still he goes-the mistress is too tempting to deny.

The city calls you back .I was returning in a bus to Pune again.I knew I was going to return soon.And I did,for my visa interview with a wish for the usual- a litlle bit of luck.I got the visa and I was on the top of the world. Passed Hadji Ali on my way back-what a site!! Watch Hadji Ali at sunset and you do feel you connected with God. Somehow I like the fact that it was Mumbai wherein I got my visa and consequently one of the most important events in my life.I boarded a bus back to Pune.I did not want to go back.

I was spellbinded by the city.The city weaves magic.The city of dreams.The city of hopes.The city which treats the prince and the pauper same.The city of sweat and then the cool breeze that put me to sleep like a mother's gentle caress.The city of coincidences, the city of lovely girls. The city of power.Oh and I just cant forget that girl and her gyrating keychain.She flashes in front of my eyes as I leave the city, along with that girl selling garlands, along with the image of Marine drive, the sea,the local train, along with my own face I imagine after getting the visa, and along with Hadji Ali. I am glad I would be leaving my country through this city.So that I am sure I will come back to my mistress.

Bombay in my soul, Bombay in my dreams.Yeah..Bombay.!!!