Life's Most Important Resolution No. 199

You know these moments when you do something outrageously stupid and then get these guilt / shame - pangs for the rest of your life? Yes, the ones whose memory itself makes you cringe.

And these moments come in various flavours. You didn't get-up from your seat in the crowded bus and offer it to the old man who was barely able to stand just a few feet away from you. You bitched unecessarily about your best friend to someone who didn't really matter. You messed up that most important client presentation of your life. You got drunk and said amazingly stupid things to people around you. Funnily, the last bit keeps happening over and over again to me.

And that brings me to my new resolve. I am not drinking ever again. No, this time it's for certain. Pucca Promise.

Not only will I save myself the splitting headache and hangover on the day-after, I will also be spared the amusing (to others) stories that people have to tell about what all I did after getting drunk. Woresht thing is that I have these memory lapses and I kind of don't remember the events clearly,coherently and in the right order, and have to rely on the versions being given by my 'friends' - who relish reciting the episodes as much as they would have done while watching it. They, of course, have supporting evidence in the form of photos and videos *gasp*

But this will change. I am never going to be drinking again. No more lost memories. No more weird incidents. No free entertainment to loser friends and colleagues. 100% final. *sigh*

Chal Sanyasi Mandir mein

  

No this post is not about Bollywood. But yes, we do learn lessons from Bollywood. That goodness always wins in the end. That you cannot break away from your roots - that the Sanyasi has to eventually return to the Mandir.

And yes, I never thought I will find myself saying this, but I will, indeed, miss Bombay. And in particular, I will miss:

- The amazingly overcrowded local trains: I guess my body will take some time to adjust to the lack of full-body massage that I get twice everyday here. I will miss the squabbles, the rush and the push, the madness and well, the madness.

- The tapori lingo: I fear that I might just hug the autowallah in Calcutta out of affection if he addresses me as 'aap'. No, Sir, don't you think that I am being paranoid here because this is after 3 years of being subject to 'tereko kidhar utaroon mein?'

- The Mahangai: Being an aam aadmi, I am very concerned about how much I have been shelling out of my pocket for bare necessities of life. Calcutta would see some more money, hopefully, in my Bank account. Hopefully. 

- The Works: Ah, well, I know I have been bitching about my job so much already. So, I need not go down that road again. I will really really miss being treated like a rotten piece of shit. Okay okay I stop right here!

But is there something that I will not miss? The bestest friends that I have made and the memories that I will always cherish? Nopes. For I will be carrying them with me :)

But something tells me it ain't over yet. Or is it?

PS: The picture is there only for marketing value, so don't fret over it. 

Happy Ending

You know when they say that Happy Endings happen only in movies... now I wouldn't say that they are totally wrong. But then often, once in a while, just as if God forgot to throw in that random twist of fate, you do end up being happy in the end. And though it is not really the end, but merely a halt, such happy endings are what we all live for.


So yeah I am happy. But then it is not in my nature to feel good and talk good about others. So I shall crib as usual. I just wanted you guys to know .. you know just in case you guys feel that my cribbing lacks quality today, that's only because I'm happy!

So yeah I have been going through a lot of turmoil these days. And it doesn't help when each and every person you meet on the road / office / train / at the chaiwala's / facebook / Gtalk asks you the same question- 'Weren't you supposed to be in Calcutta already?'

Yes, I was supposed to have fled from this godforsaken city long back. In fact, I shouldn't have come here at all in the first place and taken jobs that promise to suck the last drop of blood outta my body. But then since I did come and now have monsters around me who wanna make my life miserable, all I can do is patiently wait. At least now I know that it's just another two weeks of pain.

So yeah, there, yes you, the moron looking at me from across the road - just know that I will be in Calcutta soon. Very soon. And that should wipe that smirk off your face!

The Return of Randomness

* I don't think I told you guys about my amazing new laptop. Yes, the old laptop simply crashed. The keypad had stopped working a long time back - now the hard disk too called it quits. The new lappy has a cam as well - I video-chatted for the first time in my life! Yes, being technologically-backward ensures that you get these weird kicks out of things others would call pretty ordinary.

* Work at office is getting more excrutiating by the hour. Yes, yes, we all hate our work but can one really hate his work as much as I do? To add to my woes, many among my office junta have started reading my blog - so I can't even write nasty stuff about work anymore.

* Once in a while, something will happen that will make you regret missing out on some very important event or action in life. Watching Dabangg was one such moment. It made me regret how I never could learn to bajao a shrill ceeti in childhood. Dabangg had many such scenes where normal mortals would errupt in an euphoria of ceetis and cat-calls. But I forget that multiplex-going-sophisticated-Mumbaikars aren't so mortal as Malancha-cinema-going-Calcutta-based-kanjoos-Marus. Btw, read Greatbong's awesome review here.

* Throwing caution to the air, I must tell you all about how my colleague noticed that someone from senior management at work doesn't fit into his chair anymore. She also demonstrated how parts of his body hang precariously over the sides of the chair - and how the chair makes squeaking noices every time he sits on it as if crying for mercy. We suspect that the chair is secretly replaced every night as it is not possible for any chair to sustain all the weight for two days in a row.

* TV serials are my new-found-love. This certainly deserves a blog on its own. Will come up with something soon.

Lo Aaj Main Kahta Hoon

Ok, so, I love bollywood! And continuing in the same line of thought as this post of mine, I will list down the 5 most amazingly fantastic memories I have of old-school Bollywood:

1. Tumne jo li angdayi hai - Mr. India was a movie that the kids thoroughly enjoyed. Sci-fi was an unexploited genre in Hindi cinema. The unadulterated comedy struck a chord with each person in the audience. However, one song, one wet and stormy night, a gyrating Sridevi, Kaate Nahi Kat te - and many among the kids spent several sleepless nights!

Years later, Raveena tried to create the same magic, but not quite.

2. Pyaar dosti hai - The only KJo movie that I don't mind watching again and again. With Kuch Kuch Hota Hai, the Archies came to India. Skirts got shorter, college-life was redefined, Kajol's one eyebrow became a pair of eyebrows, precocious kids came to dominate Hindi cinema, and I finally realized that I have to have to hate Shahrukh Khan.

(C'mon guys, this one is really after a long time - and not even nasty!)

3. Mausi chakki peesing - Sholay was not a movie. It was a piece of art. Every frame was perfect, every character chiseled out of storyteller's finest imagination, every dialogue legendary. The only possible flaw in the whole movie was that it could inspire someone to remake the movie years later, to a disastrous effect.

4. We love Maneka Gandhi - I am no pet-lover. But I used to love when movies had these wonderful multi-purpose pets. Pigeons as carriers of love-messages, Dogs as faithful friends, Monkeys as entertainers, Deepak Tijori and (recently) Udai Chopra as sidekicks.

5. Kya bolta re tu? - As anyone who has seen my drunken dancing would know, I dig chaalu Bollywood music. By 'chaalu' I mean songs that run thus -
Humein Tomtom se ja rahe the, tumhein cycle se aana tha
Aati kya Khandala?
Unchi hai building, lift teri band hai
Meri Pant bhi sexy
Hai Huku Hai Huku
A aa ee, o oo oo, mera dil na todo

Are you surprised to see that most of these songs had Karishma Kapoor? :) Miss that era!

Tu bhi Disco, Main bhi Disco

Ok, so the off-site happened (they call it the Business Meet), and it wasn't all that bad. For three days, we were parceled to this luxury hotel in Goa where we had marathon presentations (which were boring to the point that you almost strangle yourself), team activities (read 'physical torture'), and random conversations with bosses where you are repeatedly reminded how fortunate you are to be part of this elite gang! However, to redeem it somewhat, met so many new people, gulped gallons of free daaru, and treated myself to the luxuries that such a hotel could offer (err... only the free ones!).

I shall not forget:

* how the DJ was playing my favouritest songs like I am a Disco Dancer, 1-2-3, Jumma Chumma and many more. 

* how, after maroing three Long-Islands and a couple of shots (I could barely stand), I realized that I will be called on to the stage for receiving an award (They obviously couldn't let me know earlier!) And then you have kamine friends who suggest that you have another shot to soothe nerves. I didn't trip and fall, I didn't do anything stupid either - but people complained that I was dead serious when receiving the award!

 * how I ran for my life after seeing my naked boss coming out of the sauna (accidentally, instead of entering the showers, I came out of the wrong door into the corridor. And I was wearing only a towel!)

* how we had a fight with the irritating  lifeguard at the beach - who gave us fake excuses like "there are snakes in the sea" to send us away after nightfall.

* how I couldn't sleep at night (even after being completely drunk) because my room-mate was snoring loud enough to wake up Kumbhakarna. 

* how, during the physical activity session, a Bong from Calcutta and a Sardar from Delhi broke into a fight. Watching the show from the sidelines was pure bliss.

* how there were hot, skimpily-clad, firang chics on the dance floor. But, as a poor desperate soul from Chennai got to know the hard way, they were reserved only for senior management.

Randomness

* During monsoons, Mumbai attains a new level of menace altogether. Ok, except Marine Drive - its beauty during the rains can completely mesmerize you. But, overall, its painful. Local trains get dirtier and more crowded. People poke each other in various body parts with umbrellas. In fact, if you are those types who relishes causing pain to others, you should carry these really huge umbrellas (which are also handy if you have to clear way for yourself in the train).

* Our colony's kids' favourite pastime during vacations has been splashing in the water that got collected in the complex's swimming pool (which otherwise remains dry due to water shortage in the area!). Suddenly felt so grown up, so old. Those were the days! No, not the ones  that I remember - but the ones when I was so very young, the days I don't have even a sliver of memory of.

* Saw the new Fair & Lovely for men ad on TV. And rolled with laughter for half a minute. I thought they had come up with something called 'Fair & Handsome' for men. Is that product out of the market? Or do men prefer to be 'lovely' over 'handsome'?

* Sonia (my wife) has been having these weird nightmares. She gets up in the morning all worried and tells me that she had had the worst nightmare of her life in which her kaamwali bai was threatening to quit the job. And then I make the biggest mistake of the week by saying that 'It's just the two of us, you can sure manage by yourself'.

* I have listed my blog on all these blog directories on the net (in the hope of getting the most coveted of all prizes for bloggers around the globe - traffic!). Read some of the blogs listed there - and I suddenly feel so humbled, so dwarfed... so miniscule *sigh* But I will continue blogging for sake of my own stupid vanity. And will write on more random topics in the future *evil grin*

* I am petty sure I need a new laptop as mine one simply refuses to work (this is a blatant hint if someone is looking at cheering me up by buying an expensive gift)

* This post is made up of random topics. Randomness is the flavor of the season.

Main aur mere Kaamwale Boys

Jobs that suck, atrocious weather, travelling by local trains, house-hunting, living away from home, and I had thought that Mumbai had tortured me enough. I was, obviously, wrong.
 
Ankit and I wanted to live the good life. And we decided, after painful encounters with Mumbai's Kaamwali Bais ("Main undergarments nahi dhoegi aur ghar zyada ganda nahi chahiye aur bedsheet roz roz dhone nahi dalne ka aur....... khich-khich, chik-chik!!"), that we shall keep a full-time flunk to cook for us, do all the household chores etc, get cigarettes for Ankit when he ran out of them, have no qualms about washing our underwear and...  let us make the house as dirty as we possibly could. We did not know, then, that this was going to be a big fucking mistake.
 
So, let's look at the various kaamwale boys we have had:
 
1) Hero Hiralal
 

Our first was a decent chap - short, lanky, malnourished, polite, hardworking. He looked very very decent. And apart from the fact that he occasionally wore these ghastly KRK-inspired glittering shirts, we had absolutely no issues with him. He made amazing Aloo ke Paranthe - and that is the one reason why we missed him the most. He also kept the house spic-and-span. When Ankit's parents came visiting, he won their hearts like a susheel bahu. And then one day, the devil played his dirty game.
Imagine. You are called at work and told that your domestic flunk has locked himself up and is not opening the door. You rush home to find 300 angry Marathis standing at your door baying for the blood of your Bihari servant - accusing him of molesting a school-girl. You break into the house (with the help of the angry mob) to find the flunkie crying, in a state of delirium, pleading innocent. You manage to save his life but the flunkie is now an outcast. He should never be seen in Kurla again. The real truth will never be known. But we got to know that the mob's definition of 'molesting' was talking to the girl on the road ("Iske iraade theek nahi the"). And we lost our best kaamwala boy to date. 
 
2) Two-timer


Then we got someone who was already working at a friend's place to also work for us. He was ok except for the fact that he gave us this step-motherly treatment.  
He was a little lazy but he worked when told. And he always seemed to spend all the money the same day we gave him. And we used to wonder how. Finally he went to his gaon with two months' advance salary and never returned. Worst thing was we were, once again, left at the mercy of temporary kaamwali bais.

3) Kaliya
 
The third guy looked the kamina type. Let's refer to him as Kaliya. He loved throwing all our stuff away when we were not at home (giving stupid explanations like 'mujhe laga kaam ka nahi tha'). He broke everything precious we ever owned. You get a family pack of ice-cream and leave it in the fridge. It's gone by the time you get back home. You get 10 packets of Lays Chips for the party you will throw over the weekend. Nothing can be found on Saturday morning. Fruits, dry-fruits, churan, he used to hog everything like crazy. Our ration budget went up at least four times. And, one day, when he crossed the line (by answering back), we decided to throw him out.
 
4) Psycho
 
This guy came highly recommended through a friend's friend's friend. He was a little old and so we were apprehensive from the very beginning. It hadn't even been a day when he showed his true colours.
He gets up early in the morning and starts knocking on our doors to wake us - it was a weekend for heaven's sake! Then he says something funny:
"Bhabhi ko bol dijiye taiyaar ho jaye, naashta ready hai"
We looked at each other with suspicion. When all three of us shrugged, we told him, "Yahan koi Bhabhi nahi hai"
"Abhi to thi wahan saari pehne huye"
Then without waiting for an answer he runs into the kitchen. We leave it at that, thinking he may have seen Ankit (with his small frame) and thought it was a girl.
 
Evening 10 PM: We are having dinner.
Psycho comes to us, looking pensive. "Main aapko pehle se hi bata deta hoon. Police aane wali hai aapko pakadne". We choke on our food.
"Aisa kya kar diya tumne?"
"Maine? Maine kya kiya hai? Raat ko aap log hi to sab kar rahe the"
"Kya kar rahe the hum?" 
"Yahan 20-25 logon ko bulakar aaplog andhere mein puja kar rahe the. Kahin baithne ki jagah nahi thi. Aap log zor zor se mantra ka jaap kar rahe the"
"Hum teeno apne apne kamre mein so rahe the. Aapne sapna dekha hoga. Aur police kahan se aayi beech mein?"
"Mujhe mat batao. Main sab jaanta hoon. Yahan, wahan, sab jagah log khade the. Bathroom mein, balcony mein teen log, Kitchen mein.... main jakar neeche garage mein soya. Itna shor. Baki building ke logon ne police mein complaint likha di hai" he looked scared, and dead serious.
"Isne bhoot to nahi dekha?"
Several shots from Ramgopal Verma's horror flicks flashed before our eyes. What if the house HAD ghosts.
 
We called the watchman. He confirmed that the guy had slept in the garage in the night. But he hadn't heard any noise. Then the psycho threw his trump card.
"Aap log mujhe kal raat ko kitna maar rahe the! Kutte ki tarah patti bandhkar mujhe ghumaya. Sab mujhe laat mar rahe the!"
 
He was obviously hallucinating. We got so scared we immediately (at 11 in the night) called his family members, packed his bags, called a taxi, gave the taxiwala money and his brother's address and parceled him back.
 
5) Marathi Manoos


Next was our first and last marathi flunk. He was lazy no 1. He was with us only for a day half of which he slept through. And then he announced that there was too much work so he couldn't do it! 
 
6) Shehenshah
 
Next guy lasted some time. He had this gorkha look and was polite. He kept the house extremely dirty but we were so desperate by now that we didn't say anything. He also wore his pants very low so that half his ass was exposed - we didn't bother unless some female friends were to come over.
Then one night, he drank all of Ankit's daru, took Arjun's car-keys, took the car out from the garage and rammed in into another one. He apologized profusely when he came to his senses but we had to throw him out after that.
 
I am forgetting about a couple of others who came and went like a whiff of stale air, only leaving the nausea behind.


With Sonia now to deal with the kaamwali bai, my life is a lot simpler. Married Life. Good Life.

PS: After I have been threatened with dire consequences if I even as much as try to suggest watching Prince, I have given up on my aspiration of writing the review. Please don't thank me on this blog.

Slow Local

When in Mumbai, do what Mumbaikars do. Which means you need to screech a lot at everyone around. Be bossy, impolite and pushy (and I mean literally 'pushy' - that is you 'push' people away, even if they are not in your way!). And, you travel by local trains.


Actually, you cannot avoid the local train bit, even if you want to. Fastest and cheapest (ok, maybe buses would be somewhat cheaper but then you actually feel you have aged a little by the time you get off the bus), traveling by local trains becomes a necessary evil.


And they are always jam-packed. No matter what time you take the train and in which direction. Even First class! Ok, as many of you will know, my cribbing will have no end, so let me stop right here and start with what I actually intended this blog to be about.


People you are likely to meet in a (packed) Mumbai Local Train:


The Gujju Stock Broker (and his gang) - Sitting on top of each other in some corner playing cards, or standing in the doorway discussing stock movements, property prices and what not (and, unintentionally am sure, blocking the entry/exit), mirthful, teasing each other on silly things like 'teri pant kitni tight hai', laded with jewelery of all sorts - chains, bracelets, earrings, rings, diamond-studded-shirts - seriously! (and, yeah, gold is passé, they prefer platinum now!) - you just can't miss the Gujju gang in a Mumbai local. They speak only in Gujarati and hence, it might be difficult to follow the entire conversation - but what I like about them is their being so full of joy, energy and jest, all the time. While I did get irritated at 'all the loud banter' first, I have begun to like such gangs. They, somehow, find a reason to smile, a reason to joke, a reason to have fun. 


The Motu Uncle - He will push his way through, occupy as much space as five people and then give you a dirty look that would say 'don't mess with me'. They rarely apologize after nearly crushing you to death. As a co-passenger once commented (after a Motu Uncle started squeezing him) - "Uncle, aapko gym hi jana padega. Aise dabane se pet kam nahi hoga" :)
Though, occasionally, having a Motu Uncle in front of you, when you have to get off a crowded train, does have its benefits. You can easily pass through after he has cleared his way. Just ignore the massacre all around.


The Gunda - He is rude, loud-mouthed and found mostly in Virar fast. He won't let you get onto the train, he won't let you get off. He will be a nuisance in general. He is occasionally with his other gunda friends, when he creates twice as much trouble for others. He will chew tobacco and spit everywhere. He will blow smoke in co-passengers' faces after smoking a beedi. He particularly hates UP Bhaiyas. He will abuse and crib. You will find it easy to hate him.
An advice: You should always ignore him - though the temptation to sucker-punch him or push him off the moving train would be very intense.

The College Nerd - He is the standard studious type. He will carry a huge bag filled with books. Even in a crowded train where people can barely stand, he will have the uncontrollable urge to take out a book and study. And this is no Calcutta where studious kids are offered seats by other passengers. Geeks like me will associate with him but when, in the jostling crowd, you realize that he is taking up extra space, you start giving him dirty looks. 


The Newspaper Freak - He is the grown-up version of the College Nerd. His books are replaced by Newspapers now. He has embarked on this impossible mission to read the entire paper before the train reaches his destination station. He takes multiple poses while reading the newspaper (some of which look inspired from Kamasutra).  


Mr. 'I-don't-believe-in-bathing-at-all' - He is the smelly kind. No more words.

Hairy Harry - These are uncles with an overgrowth of hair on their heads. Now, now, I am not making fun of them because of envy at their hare-bhare gardens. But in crowded trains, they tend to shake their heads a little too often which means that those standing around them will be gifted with loving strokes of their tresses. Best is when the Uncle in question has a penchant for applying smelly hair-oil. You will actually achieve a state of eternal bliss when a strand of oily hair brushes past your face. 


Raasta bhatki Aunty - Occasionally, a lady will board the unisex compartment (mind you there are no men's compartments) and then all hell will break loose. Men, who have accepted the kicking and jostling as part of their lives, will be forced to behave appropriately - try fruitlessly to save that poor woman from the torture that mortals are subjected to in a Mumbai local.


Mumbaiya Tapori - He is the milder version of the Gunda.He tries to boss around but gets shooed away by other passengers. He lacks the evil look and tries to make up for it by using a lot of swear-words. He is the wannabe Gunda. Maybe he will never achieve the same perfection. But he tries for what he is worth. 


The Gay - You find them everywhere. And you gradually learn to ignore them. And, frankly, in a crowded train it is difficult to identify who is trying to molest (if guys can be molested at all!) you and who is just another victim. A warning though: Some of them get pretty aggressive if you continue to ignore them. And, a dirty look will suffice to ward them off.


The 'madly-in-love' couple - Coochey-coo couples, falling over each other. Thankfully, this variety avoids crowded trains. They, instead, choose to do PDA (public display of affection) on the platform.


Oye Chakka Chakka oye - They run India's largest extortion racket. First class compartments are well within their reach.


The Chotu Ustaad - The modern-day dwarf. He cannot reach the overhead bars. He is usually crushed between bottoms and has to shriek to make others notice him. He will hold on to you like you are his long-lost-kumbha-mela-wala brother. Though he is particularly crafty in squeezing past people in crowded trains.

The Mandir ka Pujari - This gang sits together chanting mantras and hanuman chalisa. They often occupy an entire compartment. And also distribute tasty prasad after their puja is done :) 

Now, now, this is definitely not an exhaustive list - but I had fun writing it :)

Mumbai, ahoy! - Addendum

Have finalized the flat at Bhandup. However, no celebrations until we actually move into the flat! But what I can do is narrate two particularly funny encounters that I had in course of my khoj:

Episode 1#
Aunty welcomes me into her flat with a gleeful smile. The broker (who is incidentally a lady herself) looks very puzzled at the warm reception I am getting. Aunty quickly tells me that she will be moving to Kerala and hence wants to give out her fully-furnished 2BHK on rent to someone nice and scholarly. It turns out that she was a teacher and she loves good students. I am all smiles.

Aunty: Beta, you are an engineer?
Me: No Aunty, I am a commerce grad
Aunty: (slightly upset) Oh...
Me: (quickly adding) I did my MBA - from IIM Bangalore (close-up smile)
Aunty: (eyes light-up) Good. But you look so young to have done your post-grad. So beta why do you need a 2BHK?
Me: Aunty, my family will be moving to Bombay....
Aunty: Oh, your mom and dad?
Me: My wife, Aunty
Aunty: (suddenly jumps on the sofa) Oh my my! You are married. You look so young!
I look down at the floor and give a slight smile (in a sharmila bhartiya purush sort of way)
Aunty: So beta, how many kids do you have?


Episode 2#
The owner is a nice, slightly overweight but good-looking guy. He introduces me to his wife and shows me the flat. Then suddenly he asks.... "You will be staying with your family, right?"
"Yes, with my wife" I reply
"Oh" he heaves a sigh of relief!
"Why?" I ask
"Actually, bachelors are not allowed in the society!"
"Why is that so?"
"Because they are such a nuisance!"
Though I am no longer a bachelor, I take particular offence at that (having stayed with a bunch of guys for almost 2 years in Bombay now! If all societies thought like this!)
"Like?" I ask
"They play loud music, they get their friends over, they booze! They are an overall nuisance. We earlier had bachelors staying in many flats. I have personally complained against them many times. Now, we have banned owners from renting flat to bachelors!" Smug smile.
I decide not to push it further Like it matters to me now :)
"I will be giving the flat on rent for only 12 months. Because I come back to Mumbai in a year."
I look at him with surprise.
"Actually I am going to IIM Calcutta for a one year executive MBA" Smug smile 2
"Great". I give a wicked smile (while mentally picturing him running from the loud music-playing, boozing and philandering junta at IIM)

********************

Mumbai, ahoy!

Househunting... and the Mumbai rains!

After a self-imposed exile from the blogosphere for almost 2 years, what could have possibly motivated me to return...

Life in this godforsaken city had always been exciting - I could have written about my travails of commuting by local trains (that sure deserves an entry of its own!), could have written about how my job sucks, about how I switched my job and the second job also sucks, could have written about the end of the glorious era of my bachelorhood, about 'Wanted', about how I discovered the marvels of Playstation, about Rakhi Sawant, about the online-CAT fiasco.....

But I did not, any more, have the patience for blogging. Reading and writing were the only two (good) hobbies I had had. And both were snatched away from me. Don't know why, when, by who.

But today when I visited my blog (by random chance), I saw that this post of mine has been lying incomplete for ages! And, by now, I can write a book on this topic :P .... so, fasten your seat-belts, here we go:

Episode 1#

Broker looks like the south-Indian sidey of some B-grade Bollywood flick's villain. Turns out he is actually a Bong. He will charge one month's rent as brokerage. Both of us (with less than a month of cumulative work-ex) protest that it is din-dahade dakaiti, but give-in to his demands. We say to our hearts 'All izz well' and embark on the househunting journey.

Fast forward a couple of weeks - Found a house, Ankit used his negotiating skills over the phone (in person, his size would give all away!) to get us what we thought was a good deal. We paid the Broker half his commission (balance to be paid on the day of registration). Owner is in Calcutta but is nice enough to let us move into the house before the agreement is signed. We give the sidey the cheques for deposit and rent and we enter the unfurnished 2 BHK, on the top floor of a seven-storied building.

Day One: Sunday, we goto Big Bazaar and do max-level shopping. Ankit orders his furniture, we buy mattresses, grocery, utensils, what not. Otherwise, the day passes without event.

Day Two: Monday - all the Gods simultaneously take a leak and Mumbai is semi-flooded. We return from work to find our flat flooded as well. Turns out the roof leaks majorly - distraught and on the verge of tears, we call the broker. He feigns ignorance. We call the owner - he is like, 'didn't the broker tell you, there is minor leakage problem the society has been trying to fix for the past two years? You just have to adjust during the monsoons' . We cry foul and want our money back.

Broker - Actually Sirs, you have to pay me the rest of my brokerage. I can't help if you don't like the place now.

Owner - I have lost your cheque in any case. You can put a stop-payment on that cheque if you want, but I want additional one month's rent.

Ankit uses his charm over phone once again. We finally get away with minimal damage, monetary as well as mental.

(and everyone we speak to says, 'You shouldn't have taken a top-floor at all! You should know this in Mumbai - you could have asked me for advice!')

Episode 2#

We find another place and have to shift before the weekend - so that we don't have to pay the owner extra one month's rent. Only option is to move our stuff after office-hours. We book a tempo, return home from office in torrential rain and wade through knee-deep water to reach our building. The tempo guy refuses to come in such heavy rains. Now, it's a choice between some desperate last-minute jugaad and shelling out extra 21K. We choose the former and with umbrella et al, start scouting the locality for some tempo-wala who will help us out. We finally find a young boy who agrees to drive us (at exorbitant cost, of course) but he refuses to assist in getting the luggage loaded/unloaded.

The picture of that night, when the world around us seemed to be dissolving, and we were busy carrying our stuff from the 7th floor down to the garage, will be etched in my memory forever. And not only because of Ankit's decision to drive the tempo. Thankfully he handed over the steering wheel to the driver after nearly causing an accident (while we were still in the garage).

Stay in the second house was uneventful for the next one year, except for the time when I had to single-handedly fight (verbally, how else!) with a crowd of 300 angry Marathis because my Bihari servant was charged with eve-teasing a Class VI school-girl. But that is for another time.

Episode 3#

One year has elapsed. We have to find a new house. Ankit is hell-bent on taking a place in Wadala (which seems to have an aspirational value for all IIM-grads). Dosti Acres and the nearby shanties get a premium becuase all IIM junta stays there. The facts that it is absolutely unreachable by public conveyance and that travel cost is raised substantially do not seem to matter to the wannabe Investment Bankers. I finally manage to convince him against the very idea.

We finally take a 3 BHK in Kohinoor City itself. We get the local guys to move our stuff - and the day we are supposed to shift, the skies open up again! Not much of love-lost between me and God, since we were only moving to the next building.

Episode 4#

I get married and so have to find a place of my own. Being a SINK family (as opposed to DINK), this was anyways gonna be a mighty task. Finding a good house in a good locality at affordable rent! I did find one such place and promptly closed the deal with the owner - a Bengali software engineer who had gotten transferred to Ireland and hence was giving his place on rent. Then one week before my wife is supposed to join me in Bombay, he gives me a call:

Makanmalik: Jogesh, I have shocker of a news!

Yogesh: Erm?

Makanmalik: I have just been informed my Ireland project is canceled!

Yogesh: Erm?

Makanmalik: We have done the agreement and all (where I had slimy-ly put in 6month lock-in period), but that is all fine, right? Thanks for the cooperation. Happy House-hunting!

If you haven't guessed, I am still house-hunting after recovering from the above shocker of a shock! And, hence, couldn't resist venting out my frustration when I saw this topic in an incomplete status :)

Mumbai, ahoy!

Sunday, Evening 8:00 PM – Cribbing to Thatha (my roomie) about how I have wasted the entire weekend by doing nothing but sleeping and hunting for a decent place to eat (i.e. a place where you get cheap yet great food!) and couldn’t really do the Mumbai-darshan that I have been planning to do ever since I landed here. Thatha takes his eyes away from his laptop (he is watching some Tam movie for the umpteenth time – don’t ask me why! Tams usually don’t have any reasons for doing what they do), murmurs something and gets back to his chore.

Night 11:00 PM – Playing War-craft on the laptop and promising to myself that this is the last game…

Night 11:59 PM – Take a Digene tablet (the oily food has caused acidity again!), check the alarm, and hit the bed.

Monday, Morning 7:30 AM - Shit! Am late again. Get up, check the alarm (it must have rung you idiot!), rush to the bathroom… have to get ready by 8 at all costs. Today, I finally want to attend that early morning briefing on the treasury floor…

Morning 8:05 AM - Enter the mess, check the menu, if it’s anything other than Misal Pav, order (and eat breakfast in 2 minutes flat) else rush to the station.

Morning 8:11 AM – Enter the station missing the 8:10 Andheri local by a few seconds again! The Bandra local is at 8:25 – so all hopes of attending the briefing down the drain!

Morning 8:35 AM – Getting a free full-body massage – in the local train – it is packed to the fullest and you can’t move a toe without pushing someone off the moving train.

Morning 9:00 AM – Waiting in the queue to board the bus that takes you to BKC, and making use of the time to breathe freely for a change and also to wipe the perspiration…

Morning 9:25 AM – I am again the last intern to enter the office and I re-assure myself that petty things such as this don’t affect my chances of getting a PPO

Morning 9:35 AM – Try and talk to the guide, she is busy (We’ll talk over lunch, dear), try and do some work (after successfully resisting the temptation to participate in the nonsensical chat the other interns are having), discard the idea as bad and join the gossip instead.

Afternoon 1:00 PM – Guide finally steals half an hour from her busy schedule and we meet over lunch in the cafeteria… this being the only thing in the whole day that I can feel happy about…;)

Evening 5:30 PM - All the interns go down for snacks and they need some bakra for time-pass as they are bored. But they don’t seem to get bored with me being the bakra everyday!

Evening 7:30 PM – After another day in office, you rise to leave and realize that you would be the first intern to leave. You again assure yourself that this would not affect your chances of a PPO and walk out of the office. (This occasionally doesn’t happen if guide wants to talk to you or you are doing some good work for a change - and then you may have to stay back till 9:00 – 9:30)

Evening 8:15 PM – Get a free full-body massage again!

Evening 8:50 PM – Enter the hostel, change into full pajamas and remind Thatha to do the same (In the hostel, we aren’t allowed to go to the ground floor wearing anything that shows even an inch of our body except the face. BTW, we are in a boys-only hostel and the authorities have no problems with the boarders loitering in the corridors in ill-fitting underwear almost all the time!), go down to the mess, eat dinner if anything is left at all…

Evening 9:15 PM – Check if the wireless is working, curse since it is not, crib about how long it has been since you checked your mail or did orkutting, and then start with War-craft…

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Spend most of your next weekend (if you don’t go to office on Saturday that is) washing your clothes, ironing them (if the dhobi has ditched you again!), chatting with other B-school students, planning to go on Mumbai-darshan, falling asleep in the afternoon… doing nothing and just nothing…

That has been Mumbai for me for the past one month… the coming days have something good to look forward to like the faccha party, the Alumni meet… and the project work-load will also go up keeping me busier…. So taking a sanyaas from blogging for a while!

May God kill Arjun Singh soon! :)