Where do we go from here

These days are great days for looking forward and planning ahead - and I've been busy thinking about a lot of things this past week.

Where am I ?

Who am I ?

Whats important ?

What have I left behind ?

Where do I go from here ?

I've had this funny realization that everything has infact come with a price tag. Yes, its been worth it. But its not like I've not made choices that have hurt others..its not that I've escaped unscathed by those made by others I love. Its not like I've not had sleepless nights pondering what to do,say or feel.

And at the end of all this - I'm still at a point where the questions by far outweigh the answers.

And I've learnt to see that there is merit in this quandry too and life has been bitter sweet and beautiful.

Today - I was on the way to work at the traffic light. And there was a little kid. No more than 10.

Dressed in white garb with a white prayer cap..who came to my rickshaw and asked if we wanted to spread "dhoop" in the rickshaw. The rickshaw walla shooed him away and I turned up my nose at the dusty smoky smell that filled my vicinity. This little kid - with bright black eyes looked back at me and said "please didi" and I waved my hand and signalled not to.

Once upon a time - this was a profession that many actively followed in India.

When I used to go live at Abatya's house in Girgaum .. we used to see dhoopwallas all the time. People used to invite the home, spread dhoop through the house, pay them and then bid them on their way.

Now we have "Goodnight" bottles plugged into our walls to drive the mosquitoes away.

Once of my childhood highlights was seeing "Vasudev". Vasudev was a person who would dress up in this special dance attire with bells tied to him ..and he would frequent streets in old bombay and Babulnath and Bhuleshwar and Charni Road and dance round and round while his flowing robes made pretty colorful circles in the sticky morning air.

I remember being this wide eyed optimistic 8 year old who would be sitting in the house while my mom braided my hair ..and Kedar would come running and say "Vasudev Ala" and we'd run out to look at him go about dancing and people would give him coins and make him a part of their day.

Now - my building watchman watches anyone who walks on our street like a hawk.

I'm shocked today. I really am. And disappointed at my own blindsightedness and recklessness.

So much is changing and I have just not had the time or the bandwidth to think about so many of these things while I chose my own trivial battles to fight.

Its ridiculous. While I am writing this blog, the grim picture I am seeing.

What happens to the dhobi ghats when the market penetration on washing machines reaches a saturation point ? .. will we no longer see the white-grey-multi-coloured-speckled grounds from the train ? and what will we see in its place ?

Even close to home - we used to have this lady come and walk in our streets when I was a kid ..who was a "Dabba Batliwali" .. who would come and collect bottles and boxes and pay you some money for them .... India's own grey market for recycling .. where has she gone ?!

We used to rent cycles as kids .. 5 rupees for half an hour... ..from a little bicycle shop down the road. He had lots of bicycles... ladies and gents bicycles he'd call them .. and in different sizes .. and in the evening during the summer vaction .. Kedar and I used to go to rent a cycle and bring it back ..and first he would ride it for 15 minutes while I ran behind him .. and then I would ride it for 15 minutes while he ran behind me ..The highlight was .. there was one bicycle with a bell that you could ring .. and we would be overjoyed when we could rent that one ! Ohh ..we would feel so important ..riding a cycle with a bell that was at our mercy !

Come to think of it .. I dont remember the last time I saw any kids in my building ride bicycles ..leave alone walk for 20 minutes to rent them and take them back...

Honestly - this blog post is all over the place.

I really dont know whether there is a thread of coherent thought in here.

I'm really all for change and growth and all the good things that come with it.

But how can entire professions and peoples ways of living alter as I write this...

One day I'm going to be sitting with my kids and not able to explain some of the most cherished memories of my life for lack of a reference point.

It scares me and disturbs me.

Someone once said that if we cant change a situation - then we have to change

But how much do we have to change ?

Where do we go from here ?