Saturday Morning

Clearly, I am over qualified for my job. Not that my present means of earning bread and butter annoys me (yet) or tires me needlessly. It's just that I see myself deriving a great deal of joy from simple things which require little or no thought.. Serious thought that is.

Like a postman. Now thats a job I would perform splendidly. Especially in Bombay. And to make it more fun the area I service should be huge…
And I should see new and exotic places everyday… Bhandup, Mumbra, Kalyan… Masjid Bunder, Ghatkopar… no these places really exist, I’m not making them up. I wish I were imaginative enough to come up with names that interesting.
I’d deliver mail… chit chat with its recipients. Maybe learn marathi or gujarati..
Hmm… yes I shall have to weather a substantial pay-cut to pursue this alternate career.
So I suppose I’ll have to marry someone really rich, having been denied blood relations to any rich people who’s death is imminent. God really is mean.

But then how many investment bankers do you know who’d be willing to marry a postman?

Hmm…

*

Thane is quite lovely. At least it looks so from the train. It’s green and hilly. And far away from anything which is even remotely familiar.
Kalyan, not so much. Lovely that is. Far? Oh yes its far. It might as well be on another planet.

*

I should wrap up… Am in Worli, need to head to Dadar. And I started from Bandra. Need I take such a circuitous route? Of course not… but I figure I should do this things as long as I have the energy to wake up early enough in the morning to budget time for such adventures. It helps that I can afford to… Monetarily that is.

*

The weekend is upon us. But my company insists on working on Saturdays as well… what a bunch of chumps.
But I’ve gotten used to it… I am in fact one whole month old in the organisation (as a much exclamatory, i.e. “!!!!” mail from HR recently informed me, HR dude, they need to get a clue).

But something must be done with Sunday… something grand…

Maybe I’ll sleep in late? That’s a start :)

all trains lead to dadar

i've discovered the key to avoid weight gain.. (drumroll..)- a bad sense of direction

yes, the life of a directionally challenged person affords some advantages. even if it takes a great deal of thought to look beyond an obvious handicap, dress it up in a cloak of fanciful theories, till it comes out looking and smelling every bit the part of a virtue. seriously after i'm done with most of my flaws, they're damn near resume-worthy. seriously..

so to recap, a congenitally defective internal compass aint all that bad. it helps if you're an optimist. more so if you're a gasbag..

*

i leave really early for work these days. mostly because i love offices when they are empty. particularly in the morning, when i'm at my productive best. the remnants of the previous day of work being turned out. swept, picked up, discarded, packed away.

i wonder how long it will take for me to get accustomed to working in an office environment.. i who am so terribly prone to distraction. i notice everything.. before long i'll know which ringtone belongs to which phone, which areas provide the best fodder for gossip..

this too is a gift.. especially for the chronically bored (propensity toward boredom, which in itself is a virtue. i can't quite say why just yet, but gimme time.. its one of those days)

*

dadar station is manageable in the mornings. really, i'm not kidding. it surprises me everyday. for the longest time the very mention of the word dadar would fill me with the deepest and most crippling dread. now i've figured out how to tackle the trains. you either have to travel really early in the morning, or really late at night. and the women have it easier.

mumbai is surprisingly egalitarian i think... the city is pretty much a pain for both sexes. in some cases, easier on the women folk.

*

of course part of the reason i leave so early is my sincere belief that i will get at least slightly lost on the way there. i get a little less lost everyday. tomorrow, my last day at the dadar office i just might disembark at the spot and walk in the right direction and reach in record time. of course getting lost is fun too. you learn to swallow your pride (read:shyness) and ask for directions. you discover new routes to old destinations. it is an entirely fascinating way to live.

(see i told i was good)

*

yesterday i wondered what name to give the smell which assaults the ol' factory (bad joke intended) when one approaches dadar. a mixture of sweat and dust and pee. and add a dash of humidity. humidity has a smell too. or maybe its just a sensation. either way you can discern its presence.

but on the whole, dadar station smells of people and everything to do with them. human beings lend it its signature scent. by doing nothing in particular. just existing...

sitting, eating, walking... mostly walking... mostly briskly...

*

i cried bitter bitter tears in a shady alley at dadar. coming to bombay has opened up a veritable dukaan of insecurities. coming face to face with my ineptitude and more so with my fear of it. with my shameless need for people and love. and greed for the finer things in life.

but what is life if not for these things. once in a while scary things should happen. they make us realise just how strong or weak we are. and the things that really matter.

and you get the odd blog post out of it...

*

look forward to more unpunctuated and garbled rubbish. bombay brings out the poet, even in the most cynical of us.