Gone too soon

“Do you remember the time – when we fell in love?
Do you remember the time – when we first met? “



I do Michael – I do.
It was a rainy day in Mumbai in the monsoon of 1993. Ushie and I had gone to see the first movie that we ever saw alone – without parental supervision. We had taken the train to churchgate and then walked to Regal where we saw “Free Willy”
I was 16. My whole life lay in front of me and I was so proud of being on my own that gray day.
I did not even care that my jeans were soaked in the rains and I was shivering in the cold dark movie hall.

It was a great movie but when the movie ended – and you stepped onto the screen larger than life itself and sang “Will you be there”…. That was when I fell in love with your music.

That’s not my favorite memory of the day though.

My favorite memory of the day is a walk on the promenade outside Gateway of India when Ushie looked at the sea and said to me that the waves are so tall, they are going to come right up and swallow us. And then the laughter. I can still hear it.
It was that day that I discovered the unparalleled joy of sharing the rains with someone I love so much.
Yes, it was just one of the initial defining moments in a friendship that has endured many changes and many years and in a way, it was only fitting that I first heard that song with her, because like the song …She has always been there for me.

I became a part of your fan club that day.My behavior was more worship oriented though.
Slowly, I started listening to your older songs and I loved them even more.

I have some wonderful memories about you MJ.

Kedar and me trying to moonwalk endlessly for days together.
Something that I can definitely attribute my strong calf muscles to. J
Your chimp learnt to moonwalk – I am still trying. But it will happen – one of these days…

The first Christmas in the US I was truly happy on … Christmas 2001. It had been the worst year of my life and it all culminated in me walking the cold grey cobbled pathways of University Avenue to knock on her door. Lisa.
The happiness and the love that the Keglers brought into my much lonely life that year.
We were playing Cranium. I had never played it before – but that year had been the year of a lot of never befores for me. And my winning streak started when I identified her Dad do an amazing impersonation of you. And that too was the start of one of the most cherished friendships in my life …Starting at a point where I could sink no lower and trust no lesser and that has lasted many crazy times and Christmases now..

The first PV I ran at Hewitt – I was at work – closer to midnight than not. Listening to “Dlaila” … the corniest cheesiest DJ on radio in the south…crooning cheesy love songs.. and I remember vividly – looking at my screen waiting for the PV job to complete and I realized I was looking at my reflection in the screen while you sang “Man in the mirror”. I had instant goose bumps and of course had to tell myself that it was a sign!

You made some amazing music. For me atleast.

Music that shook me. Wowed me. Inspired me. And amazed me.
Some of the truly iconic and prolific songs in the history of my life…Are yours.
And even though you lived in obviously troubled times – the legacy of your music will inspire and shake the hearts and minds of people like me for years to come.

And for that – inspite of my mixed feelings on many other aspects of your life – I am thankful.

RIP MJ.

Signs - 3

Signs -3

Outside my building entrance is a tree.

It’s in a weird place. (Much like how I define my own life these strange and difficult days)...At the edge of the footpath – but on the street. And in my way.

So everyday morning – I have to decide whether to walk around it or under it or what.

It comes up just after I turn left from my street – so it has to be a split second decision.

One day I went under the tree and some wet leaves fell on my newly ironed work outfit.

The next day I walked around it – and an angry Bus splashed water on my trousers.

This tree was in my way. Everyday.

Today – I was walking – with my umbrella opened– protecting my outfit and my laptop bag from the torrents and came to the tree and decided to walk around it…as I did... I noticed that the man in front of me had slowed down. He was carrying a big box on his head – soaking wet in the rain and clearly had a far more exhausting day than mine ahead of him or behind him and if I am right – both.

He set his box down. Then he stretched out his hands and touched this tree trunk. Touched his forehead. Repeated this twice. Then he folded his hands and closed his eyes and prayed.

To my Tree…

He offered her a prayer – while I had given her nothing other than misdirected frustration and bitterness.

He saw God in this Tree that he had just passed by on a rainy morning.

I walked past this Tree everyday and saw nothing. Nothing.

Nothing other than what I wanted to see anyways.

Someone once left a beautiful Kabir Toda as a comment on my blog.

“Kasturi Kundali base – Mrig dhoondhe van mahi …aise ghati ghati Ram hai ...

Duniya dekhat nahi” - It means that the essence of Kesar is inside the Deer - but he looks for it

all over the forest. Similarly God is everywhere - but the world doesnt notice.

And today I found out what it really means.

Everyday – I learn.

Thank you God – for talking back to me.

I promise to listen. I do.

Clarity

I woke up to sheets of rain.

Silver Grey sheets of rain. Hazy Frost worthy weather.

Then I rolled of the bed in a movement perfected over several thousand mornings – an action that carries just the right blend of frustration and purpose.

I tiptoed into the kitchen through semi darkness – more afraid to awaken my inner demons than anyone else.

Poured a tall glass of water.

Water outside. Water Inside. Water. Water. Everywhere.

In the 40 minutes it took for me – from the time I hit stop on the alarm to the time I stepped out of the door – I am sure History was being written in many parts of the world.

Not here. Not today. Not for me. Not that I know.

The streets were quiet – almost an anomaly from their everyday hustle bustle. They reflected neon from street lights that weren’t programmed to make the distinction between day and night on the basis of time alone… like me.

And as I hastened my pace – to step out of the way of a wary bus – I realized that somewhere on my way to this day, this place, I had grown afraid of puddles.

Puddles. As far as I could see. And in my meager attempts to avoid them – my frustration.

When and How did this happen?

Is this what they call growing up?

How do I make it stop?

There was a time – when I would have stared at a puddle in wonder – excitedly grinned at the rainbow like colors inside it created by orphaned oil drops and on days when I was truly happy – I’d have even splashed right inside it.

Not here. Not today.

Today – I’m worried about spending an entire day in wet footwear at work. Afraid of walking into a 9 am meeting in a rain streaked shirt and if my umbrella would give away and soak my laptop silly – then the world will surely end for me. Wont it?

As I got out of the bus and braved another torrential Mumbai downpour – my shoes started squeaking from the combination of concrete and rain.

This would have been a definite source of unanticipated joy for me at a point in my life.

I would have made them squeak some more. In Octaves. Just for the heck of it.

Certainly would not have experienced the sense of annoyance and embarrassment they inspired so naturally today.

I think this is what is called Dying – slowly - one day at a time. When everyday every year in residue strips you of something that provides you a basic form of happiness.

Like a friendly puddle.

It was at that point that the year turned for me.

At 8.52 am, on 14^th of July 2009, in the monsoon of the 30^th year of my life on earth.

I wasn’t afraid anymore.

And I just stood there. In the middle of a puddle. With cascades of water all around me. Smiling. Smiling silly.

Clarity. It’s not easy – just worth it.

Things I love about the rains in Mumbai ..

Things I love about the rains in Mumbai

1. The grey dusty roads get an image makeover.. air brushing for the concrete lovers

2. It takes forever to get up and make a hot steaming cup of adrak chai ... and minutes to drink it

3. The joy of reading the newspapers to the sound of the rains is an unparallelled experience

4. Seeing wet puppies reminds me of how human and helpless I am ..even when I'm on cruise control

5. Water Proof Mascara has never had a better business case to support it

6. Its okay to be fasionable late and blame it on the rains :)

7. Shiny Happy Multicolored Umberellas

8. Two words : Onion Bhajiyas !

9. Soft snuggly comforters, pitch dark room, orchestra of thunder, lighting by lightening and the sound of rains

10. An ease muse if you are an artist or a writer or both :)

11. Rainy day music - Jazz, Ghazals have never sounded better

12. The crazy feeling that whatever scars the past year has inflicted .. the rains will wash them away !

13. Running from the car to home and shaking off reluctant drops

14. Bright sparkling emerald green trees - freshly showered and soaked silly

15. A zillion end of season sales to satisfy the inner shopaholic

16. Mumbai in the rains - Grey, sexy, soft, utterly romantic with an expectant air

So raindrops do keep falling on my head - and after the initial shock and discomfort of adjusting to crazy traffic and water clogging and snafu's is over and done with ... evetually as the parched city gets soaked in rains ...my crazy crazy heart cant help getting drenched in happiness either..