Random thoughts

Why do dogs run into the middle of the road like they are bitten by some parasite? They seem lunatic, majorly brain affected & the rascals nearly make us skip our heart beat. They run in, screech & run back? for what?

Have you noticed how the crows in Bombay, Mumbai city are demanding territory, forcibly taking it over, encroaching like the SS, MNS & throwing out other birds?? They chase away the other birds. Like as if the sparrows, other birds are migrants....huh

Why do Indians feed 'chana' beans that trigger diarrhoea, stomach problems to birds? Especially the pigeons. There are many rather countless of poor people who can cook curry with that grain...rather beans. Instead they feed those stupid pigeons who crap all over the city.

As if this stupidity is not enough, the cows, buffaloes & bulls are fed the worst grass ever. Cows are holy in this land. But they are dirty, unhygienic, they shit a lot & dirty the place. On top of that for washing our own sins, silly Indians feed cows grass, & more grass...the cows keep shitting. I think they too must be dying of gastro. No one ever tests how & why cows, buffaloes die in India.

Do mosquitoes bite dogs & cats? They roam around freely in the gutter, by lanes & garbage of the city. If i sit in the garden i am hounded by swarm of mosquitoes.

Do rhinoceros, Bison & Hippopotamus die of diabetes & obesity? they are soo humongous ya. They look they will burst open.

How to differentiate between male & female crow, pigeon, egrets, cats? Coz until cats get pregnant you can't decipher. Others are sooo confused & as a result confusing to us humans...difficult to understand the birds & bees of animal kingdom.

I know dogs get epilepsy, now heard they get heart attack. Do animals get paralysis attacks? Do they go in comatose condition? DO they suffer from other ailments?? like diabetes??

does a caterpillar taken out from the garden...put in a in-house box with soil, water & sufficient grass & sun grow into a butterfly & fly away? When i was a child i removed all my pencils, pens all that junk fm ma pencil box, put wet mud, grass, covered the box with paper & made holes, which i stuck with sellotape later...put 3 caterpillars to scientifically watch them grow into butterflies, i was given a beating of my life...scolded, the stuff thrown into our building garden & caterpillars sent free. I thought science was self-learning through experimentation....guess it was all mugging NO learning...

Have you seen mosquitoes mating?? eeks i know but i wonder if they mate or multiply from our blood. As a kid when i'd watch Hindi movies they would show 2 flowers coming together in a cling type. Yes, i'd wait for the wind to blow & think ok now the flowers will have sex....don't laugh it was when i was a child...& in my mind visions, pictures, colours always stayed imprinted....

Sex over coffee

There is a saying at the Café Coffee Day or CCD as its called here in India – “A lot can happen over coffee.” This is their slogan, which I say is true.

Really a lot happens over coffee. People engage in long conversations, sit staring into each other’s eyes for hours; some others indulge in long drawn out debates or discussions and many simply sit around staring into space. Many others strum guitars, come in groups to chill & enjoy, some for intense personal conversations and generally a lot happens over coffee.

Initially when my friends would force me to go with them because I am not much of a coffee drinker. Rather I detest coffee. I get totally turned on by the brewing smell of tea, chaai. I was most disturbed when I went over to the US. I could smell a Starbucks or any other coffee from a distance of miles…my stomach would churn. It still does, but much less now.

Hence when we would all meet I had to first deal with a severe churning stomach…over a period of time I began adjusting & preparing myself mentally. Coz I think the mind controls all our senses. Last few years even in our office I’ve had to adjust to sipping some absolutely milky (I detest milk) coffee, since I can’t bear to drink ready made milky tea form a machine.

Now this far too milky coffee drinking would go one for hours. I prefer eating at these cafés –one gets good snacks & more so great pastries. Over a period of time I realised one needs to ‘look’ busy at these cafés rather than eat or drink anything. So like in Pune’s Vaishali & Rupali cafés what the Brahmin kids do, is what one needs to do at the coffee shops. Here we all go & buy our coffees or drinks together. Instead like the Brahmin kids one must order one coffee at a time, sit sipping it or like a scotch nurse it for over hours, then according to me we ‘look’ busy & are spending money.

The young college kids know how to wisely spend their money & divide more time at the cafés. They strum guitars, stare for long into each other’s eyes.

I love one hobby & that is to observe people pass on the streets. And with this observation one morning at Andheri opposite fame ad labs Anne & I sat at a CCD. We were waiting on a friend. We were sitting in the air-conditioned section & suddenly we saw a yucky man…the typical pimp, gigolo looking types.

Yes these gigolo, pimp types are recognisable in India. This one was straight out of a Hindi film…the gigolo pimp shady looking character.

Most of the pimps have ugly coloured streaks or colours on their hair, they were gold earrings, they have thick gold bracelet flashy in every sense of the word. They are on their cell phone which is not one…they speak in code language & are loud.

We saw one Russian whore…to be politically correct, a Russian sex worker walk in the porch wt a trolley bag. She was white that’s about it. Not great looks –well ofcourse I am aware looks has nothing to do with sex! Especially as regards many Indian men are concerned, they are more interested in the colour, whatever may be in front of them. The pimp kept himself busy on the cell & was networking all the while. In few minutes we saw a typical Marawari businessman walk in….a fat slob, in a shiny shirt, tight pants, bursting out of his clothes (I’m sure by now he was, considering he was close to fulfilling his dream of sleeping with a white woman) and chewing the famous paan…how can even their wives sleep with them is a question I always have.

Anne & I sat looking bewildered, since the whole sex call unfolded in front of our eyes. We were like she is a hooker & this businessman wants her & the pimp was striking the deal. Yes, hands were shaken, money exchanged between the pimp & the Russian walked away wt the Maru dragging her trolley behind.

Sure besides love, singing & staring, sex seems to have happened over the coffee. Yes, the pimp had ordered a coffee and sat showing he was interested in it!

Sex & the scandal involving custom's officers

If they weren't customs officials, would we have even bothered with the Lonavala 'orgy'?

Now we all have read in the newspapers about how the Pune police raided a private party in a bungalow in Lonavala. Now the fact that the partygoers were customs officials prompted the journalist to tip off the police. Two courier agents tipped off the journo…and so the vicious cycle turned.
The cynics are already claiming that the customs officials must have, at some point, done
something to the agents, and prompted this backlash. The gory details of the 'orgy' are all over the place. But why did these agents post bail for the officials and the 'dancers'.
I object to our police becoming moral gatekeepers, or upholders as it is known, especially since the news is rife with corrupt policemen, some dabble in bigamy and others keep mistresses.
The first party bust-up was the rave party in Lonavala. There were many young BPO workers caught with drugs. I do NOT believe the police. Having covered the crime beat for over a decade I empathise with the police force, and have sympathy for their cause, but I strongly believe they can tamper, infiltrate, plant, etc. I am not insinuating that they did so in the Lonavala rave party case, but the way the police busted that party seemed ludicrous then and even in this case.
These are private lives. Who sleeps with whom, who goes for an orgy, is a private affair.
In the case of the customs officials, these were all adults. None of the girls claimed they were forced into any sexual act. It was mutual consent. All the customs officials and girls are above 18. Yet, the middle class believes they have the right to decide what sort of behaviour should be allowed, and what shouldn't.
To make matters worse, the officials have been arrested for the most hilarious crime: Public nuisance (when did a private bungalow become public?) and obscenity. Who decides what's obscene? Should Bollywood producers and directors also be arrested, for 'item' numbers?
Of course, one other allegation is that the officials possessed 'blue' films which they watched to the sounds of DJ music. I shudder to think how regressive we are becoming as a society. The worst part is that none of these allegations will hold in a court. The only thing that may make the judge sit up and take notice is that custom officials were involved.
When I was going to college in the 80s, the police rarely, if ever, raided college premises. As teenagers we had house parties every second day. A friend of mind and I would have drinks in the presence of parents, who were there to supervise us and ensure we girls were protected, and did nothing untoward.
We would have music on and would dance. The parents, uncles, and aunties all were part of it. Yes, some romances started at these parties and ended there. There was nothing immoral in these acts.
And what's with our pre-occupation with 'blue' films? A friend of mine, would take me to a video parlour in a posh part of South Mumbai where I would witness housewives come asking for X-rated films, which would be then wrapped in newspaper and handed over to them. What's so vulgar about that?
The main issue here is mutual consent, of which there, as of writing this, was. In fact, how many journalists, who frequent the city's pubs and bars, are in possession of a liquor permit? No stings about that. But being a journalist myself I have a few questions regarding this case: Who booked the bungalow? Who posted the bail? Why? How did over 20 officials get time off at the same time? Who sanctioned their leave? How did they procure the girls? Where did the funds come from?
Now these are the issues I would like to know the answers to, not who slept with whom, and what clothes they wore.

Death of my 'rain man'

Who is a 'Rain man' you will ask? Well someone who comes as a blessing, guardian angel in one's life..who is the one who washes away all your sorrows like the fresh showers fm the skies, brings a new life, rejuvenates, revives one's spirit…this is who I strongly believe is a rain man.

Do people have a rain man? I don't know about people. But I always had..my best friend.. whom I've known for nearly god knows…lost count…I am lucky to have him (or had literally…a death doesn't take his status & place fm my life- NO way).

Why do I call him "my rain man?" Bcoz he always said, "I will always be your rain man!" so true..ONLY Chetan Datar is my rain man…Papa as bachu & I called him. He has been my pillar, strength, my channel of clear reasoning. A man who always had scientific reasoning & vision that was way different fm others & I always called on him for this 'different' thinking. And yes his cutting wit...aai ga...if I asked him for advice I knew he would put things in a perspective that I would or would not agree to, but was dead sure that it was the most correct thing he had said. It was also vice versa. That was our understanding - be brutally honest wt each other.

This was a joke between us – b/w Papa & me, that Chetan is my rain man. There is history to this statement…I knew Chetan thru' his brother Ashu (Ashutosh) & our bachu (Kartik). It was instant chemistry…yes but something that has been as if we're reflections of each other…Both instantly knew this was lifelong friendship & we both didn't want to ruin it getting into a relationship. We Never asked each other why, what if the other had fallen for the other..NO, just was soooo spontaneous…thereafter time immemorial we shared our inner most secrets & always reaffirmed this decision we had taken on the spur on the moment.

We 3 friends Bachu, Papa & I- never hid anything from each other & we ensured there never was a secret between us! It was fun u know…the way of life Kartik...(read the blog on my bachu Living with the dead), papa –Chetan & I had…it was a virtual self-made family by 3 of us so that we didn't lose out on being single all our lives. Bachu died but my rain man I thought would always be there for each other even in our old age…

One day whilst we exchanged notes & giggles about our lovers (each strongly believed the other had an arse hole of a lover. Mostly me as I called Chetan's GFs nurotic women –this was our firm opinion & we'd laugh as we spoke of them).. Papa said I was missing out on all fun since I've had a track record of going without a man for years…actually had few compared to Bachu & Papa. Both would ask me to experiment, go for lovers without attachment, talked often abt how deprived I am not having sex as much as they had…etc etc..like any male friend.. Then one day we shared…yes we were fascinated by the idea of having an affair with each other, wc we said would be only in our old age…Bcoz he was sure none of his lovers would stand by him, except me, his friend. For me, I always believed Rain man would be there fore me for the rest of my life…

So that's when the 'rain man' concept evolved. We both love the rains, hated the summers, loved to go out & eat…were extremely open about our affection for each other & absolutely believed in expressing it openly…we spoke of old age as if we were zipping there in some formula one car race speed…but we relished the idea of 2 friends being for each other…in our old age…that is when he said "If you never have a lover Neeta, I will be your rain man," don't worry..i will be there for u…yes! So in every rains we'd laugh & say hey rains are here…& he'd say "Yes I know mama I'm ur rain man."

I always enjoyed my brief meetings with Chetan. When I say brief…they always were brief..i don't blame him, with all his theatre work, writing, lovers & giving them time, either I would meet him at Kartik's or over the phone. When bachu fell ill our lives revolved around Bachu only…

Thereafter our communication & meetings increased…The first time after Bachu died & we met for one of his plays…it was one of the most personal moments…we then made a promise to each other be in touch & always be there for one & other..

My rain man & I could sit for hours & talk about anything - Theatre, the dynamics of theatre people, their terrible lives, general people, Religion, Castes, prejudices, politics, petty politics, acting, dance, most of all families, dynamics, music, books; personal things, problems, gossip, bitching of each other's lovers (mostly his), personal problems…sex & the politics of sex. Name it & we could talk to each other & laugh about each other's stupidity openly…on each other's face…We'd also advice each other…often ignoring it for kicks…Rain man's other special quality has been his sense of humour. Even in his most trying days he kept his balance by laughing at himself...together we would bring the house down..laughing at our choices, errors, stupidities & mostly his nurotic women...how we've brot it on ourselves...few have this quality...

I accept my personal life was not as active as Bachu's & Papa's, wc was by CHOICE. Something they never liked & would always pull me up for. I'd accuse them of forcing me to look at men who id never give a second glance & would call them pimps…They would laugh at me…for Bachu I was an incomplete woman seriously..bcoz he wanted to see me in a saree with the pallu drawn over my head, a sex slave for my husband, cook & clean. But for Papa…I was perfect! He always wished his girl friends were like me…I never wanted to possess my rain man..never needed to…we had promised to always be for each other...I did promise him I would take care of him god forbid if he ever faced any calamity…that's what friends are.

Sharing my inner most feelings & secrets with Papa & vice versa has been most natural to us both. Few years ago, after most of my friends (mostly girls but even males) had married & had children, I still never had an itch to have babies. My body clock NEVER ticked & I shared this with Papa & asked him if I was a normal woman? He laughed & said for "For bachu mama You are abnormal & incomplete"…"but for me..ur absolutely normal. There is nothing wrong wt u."

He asked if I had really given a serious thought abt wanting to have babies? Rain man knew of my predicament …I believe that NOT all lovers can make gd fathers or rather could give me gd babies. I never craved for having babies. I shared this wt him. What he has told me, I believe there are NOT many men as sensitive & understanding as him…"If you ever want a child badly, I will willingly be there to give u one. Not just to get u pregnant-we may not live together-but I will certainly give the child my name & fulfil all responsibilities of a father. Don't worry. I do not think you're incomplete…think it over mama." Chetan knew it far too well this was a passing phase wc went by in few days…But I always fondly remember what he even offered…who wld even think of something like this…Later he asked me to make a promise that I will marry & have child for his sake. I told him i shld've taken his suggestion seriously.. & we both laughed..i told him the promise was tough, didn't want to ruin any man's life & he said, "Pl mama don't talk like a woman, u've never been like this. Even if he is a chutiya (See how confident he was of my choice), jau de, lagna kar..He was scared of loneliness...

Even when he was dying i reminded him of our rainy day promise. He smiled wt a twinkle in his eyes, "I will always be your rain man momma." However, things were not the same anymore. My rain man didn't have many weeks…The day he told he wanted to meet me, few days prior to it Bachu's sister Polumi had been calling me. She frequently asked if I'd spoken to Chetan. Chetan was to leave for his trip, he was directing a play in 4 diff cities…never before in his life has he asked me not to attend his final rehearsal….Plus he was leaving so I wanted to meet him, hug him (wc I simply luv it) & wish him the best…he didn't' say anything…simply said, "its ok momma, its not necessary..

Never once I suspected anything..After his return Polu's queries began..I shared it wt him. I suspected one of his terrible GFs whom I call 'trash can' (yes she stinks like garbage) was harassing him & that's why he asked me stay away. Then he eventually decided to meet me…we went for dinner, walk & decided to take some cool winter breeze at the Band Stand. After all our laughs, Chetan took my hand & shared his inner fears..

He cried putting his head in my shoulders…I was facing a harsh reality…after bachu now papa is dying! What family is this? What life is this? I couldn't say anything then, can't say anything now…He needed me...i can't think since that day…I've been sleep walking, at night my brain works over time. I am still numb after he's gone..

Since then life was not the same. When his condition was deteriorating, I decided to spend maximum moments wt him. We met after that…he had been insisting since that day I find a nice man & marry. He said, "For my sake get married, u need it, , or get a child, u will be a good mother." Despite the fact that Chetan hates melodrama…"stop being a Meena Kumari & now listen to me, its tough living alone mama, look at me." I tried to tell him I will take care of him, that was our promise …

Every time I went to meet him, I saw him shrinking…he looked like a skeleton & would look outside his window for a glimmer of hope. I pushed him to be positive & Chetan said Indians are all filmy. "That Anand film has hypnotised everyone..what is positive abt dying mama? …I understood his frustration…its NOT easy to accept death…he went thru' cycles of ups & downs…of nearly reaching death point…then again back to living each day lifelessly...he'd say "I'd rather choke on good food….then would say "Mama pray for me…pray I am relieved fast & peacefully ."

Its strange, in the midst of the rains, I had to pray that my rain man gets his final death… But in those days too his wit had not got blunt. One day while rubbing cream on his smooth bear back i told him, Papa u have a sexy, smooth, fair back..& kissed it few times..he told me of how men have hair & the impact of it..yeah like that bear actor...then in true chetan style said, "Many men think it macho that they have lots of hair on their chests & backs, but they flop so badly in bed mama!" I couldn't have agreed more & we laughed over our expriences.. Then he said "mama u too smell sexy. When we had the chance why didn't we do anything" We laughed & I blamed him for falling for all his 'chavlya-matkyas.' He then shared something that revealed such a humane side...

He had his contradictions & stubbornness to support it...He may have felt bad abt my strong opinions reg his choice of women, wc i claimed was the same pattern. He took to ugly nurotic women! Those who wanted to possess him. I told him abt it & asked him to be careful..he said it was unfair on my part to say that...But all of us have our own ideocyncracies. One day we spoke of queer experiences, like what we don't like after sex. I told him how i have this thing for sleeping alone, hate cuddling..Kartik said i needed man whom i'd obey! "Mama ur too out of control." Papa simply hugged me & said, "Why can't my women learn to be like u!" I said it was tough, I was one of a kind..more so i told him the problem is ur women want to possess u, hold onto u...while ur a free spirit.. if this simple thing ur women have NOT understood Chetan, leave them...U DON'T deserve to suffer.. He'd say, Ur not going to forgive me for my mistakes...but id tell him the fact is Papa they won't leave u even in ur death! Wc he agreed to...

I've been proud of my friend. He has been a socially conscious man in his plays, writings, craft…he was never driven by commercial desire. He also has been the most practical & up front man I've ever known…he lived his life on his terms & conditions…he loved & lost..he cared & got a lot…He had NO regrets, lived life to the fullest. He was the most wonderful friend, so caring, warm & wanted women to break barriers. He loved life & i couldn't agree more to what Elvis Presley & Frank Sinatra said, "To say the things he truly feels; And not the words of one who kneels.The record shows I took the blows -And did it my way!"