Ignite the Change?

I came across this petition here. I read it. I signed it. A strong voice in me said...not much is going to come out of this...Such efforts would perhaps get some media attention...mumbai would perhaps see a visit by the prime minister....may be a committee / task force would be set up - give it a few days / weeks / months and everybody would forget about it. Till the next city is bombed...till more lives are lost!

It said....

Dear Mr. Prime Minister, Mumbai is tired, impatient and very angry. It doesn’t want the praise. It wants its dues. For too long have we received only empty accolades. Now it’s payback time…

Those words....they reflect, what i would safely assume, most of us feel about not only the city...but also the country we live in. I admit i am guilty of not having a positive attitude to change...i haven't seen evidence that would prove me wrong.

People of the older generation say...Change is a slow process...India is changing...Things have improved. Look at the roads, the flyovers zipping across the country...privatization of airlines, telecom...foreign investment...satellite television...McDonalds...Pringles...Malls...a better quality of life...did you think 15 years ago that you'd have all this in India?

No I say...I did not...but 15 years back...also you had told me that things would change...I had then imagined less people to die of starvation...more people to have access to clean water....children who should've been reading, playing, learning - would not have to sell balloons, flowers, pirated books on the road to earn themselves a living...i had though that in 15 years there would be less fear, more security, fewer people living on the streets...fewer farmers committing suicide since it did not rain in a given year...more people of my generation staying back in the country...a stronger sense of national pride...we'd see tax money to better use...some use...less corrupt politicians...a more efficient judicial system...a greater sense of justice...a greater respect for ordinary life...!

If change is a slow process - then is 15 years not long enough to create a situation where we see a basic respect for human life in this country, where people don't struggle, beg, steal, sell themselves to meet their basic needs - where people don’t flee the country at the first available opportunity...how much time would it take then...25....50 years...more?

Dear Mr. Prime Minister,

This is not the first time there is a citizen's petition. Not the first time that people have signed it. Not the first time that all this could come to naught.

As I clicked the submit button...i kept repeating to myself...
Oh God...this time...just this one time...I wish I am wrong!

Go sign the petition here for whatever its worth!

petition for mumbai ,bombay,mumbai,

A city and a love affair

When I look back I cannot put my finger on the moment when I fell in love with you but I know how it felt. It happened as I was growing up and maturing and becoming aware of my feelings. I would feel a sense of contentment just spending time with you. There were days when I did not do anything in particular and did not want to either. I was happy just walking through the streets, by the sea side - taking in the smell of the sea air and the sunset – knowing that I was with you. Did I ever tell you how beautiful you looked against the backdrop of the setting sun? At the end of a long weary day when amber & saffron hues touched your skin your face would glow up in that radiance…hiding in that light some of those lines which were a reminder of the dark times you had seen. Each unfortunate incident etched upon your tender skin had left an indelible impression – each line had a story to tell. Together they all lent a jaded character to your appearance. But I could see past those lines and see the beauty in you. Always! Even when you looked your worst I found you looking beautiful. I guess that’s what they call being in love. When one is able to look past the shortcomings of another and revel in all that is positive and good about that being.

A few years passed and I moved on in life and to another city. Even with the move, your thoughts did remain somewhere in my consciousness though I did not miss your presence sorely. I was after all captivated by all that was new and exciting. With the passage of time yours thoughts faded like a distant memory…untill someone would mention you in the conversation and then my heart would involuntarily leap out and take me to those days we had spent together. After a few minutes spent reminiscing I would get back to the humdrum of the day. It was only when I caught sight of you that morning in January that I felt an upsurge of all the emotions I had once felt for you. I still remember that morning. I had flown in from Bangalore just the previous night. I woke up early the following day and made my way to an early meeting. It was dark…the sun was not out yet. Then somewhere on my drive from Andheri to Nariman Point I witnessed the break of day and with it caught the most beautiful sight of you I had seen. Your fresh, clean, pure self filled my senses…It reminded me once again how much I had missed being with you. I had a beaming smile across my face that day since I knew I was back with you again. I did not stay with you longer even though I wanted to but that image that I saw of you that morning stayed with me ever since. That day I realized how much I love you. That was also the day I realized that despite all the love that I have for you in my heart I would not have been able to stay there with you. I moved on. As I walked away from you I never looked back…not even once. After that day we came face to face many a time, though you looked and felt different. Also, our exchanges acquired an air of formality. Not that I had stopped caring for you but there were just newer things, people and places that you were surrounded by. You had obviously moved on. I was happy to see that. Though occasionally I would also hear from others about the rough times that you had been through. These experiences that we go through change us as individuals, change the way we react and respond to things. For I remember how much you loved the rain once. Now I sense fear creep up in you as soon as it starts to pour. Staying away comes at a price. I could only sense that fear as an outsider. I could not feel inside me what you would have gone through – last year as the rains lashed out at you in fury.

Once again a couple of days back people have attempted to hurt you, break your spirit. Once again you have had to see trying times. As I looked through pictures of what happened a silent tear ran across from the corner of my eye down my cheek. I know there is not much that I can do sitting here. I also know that when I see you next this incident would have changed you forever. Changed you a bit more and increased the space and the silence between us by a few more inches. This will be one more incident that I would know about, that I would have read about but not been there with you to feel the pain of.

sunset picture courtsey flickr

Mumbai Blasts ,bombay,mumbai,Mumbai Rains,

No place like home

In the last 5 years I have moved in and out of 7 houses,5 cities and 3 countries. No place seems strange and no place seems familiar.

I often ask myself – where is home?

Is home the city I was born in and spent the first 25 years of my life? It has taken only 5 to rob me of my feeling of comfort…my friends, my family. Today I feel like a stranger in my own city. Places & people are – just poor shadows of their former selves.

Could home be the city I spent the last 2 years where I worked and lived, acquired new friends and a place to stay ? Where I plan to live for many years in the future - even though I don't live there right now. I feel tempted to call it home. Then something holds me back. When I walk through the streets I don’t see any memories from my past lurking around its corners. Cutting through the din of the passing traffic I don’t hear the sound of my friends’ cackling, breaking out into a spontaneous joke. My eyes see just buildings - brick and mortar structures. Inside - my heart is silent.

Hey isn’t this the building that once housed Gazebo where we’d come often from college…pooling in our pocket money to buy us a single pizza.

And there – when you go down that road – there is an old cloth market where I remember going with ma as a child. Wading through those gallis and stopping at to refuel at Kamat’s .

No such stories around them come to the fore! How can a place devoid of memories be considered home? Some day – when I collect enough memories around this place – may be I’d call it home – but not just yet.

When I speak about this to friends, I realize I am not the only one who feels this way. For many of us, the one thing in life that is constant is this act of moving from place to place. Unnerving it is for a while but at the end of the day one learns to accept this lifestyle. This new way of living – I guess warrants a new definition of what one would call home. For me ‘A Home’ today has become – (not a place….but) a person I return to!

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October 4, 2006 - Update

1. A couple of more perspectives here and here
2. The count has now increased to - 8 houses, 6 cities and 4 countries....and is likely to change once again next month !