The Axe Oil Story

While travelling across the pink and glittering river in a ferry that usually got me late, I arrived surprisingly on time to the fortress of the ‘Eurean Wall’. For everyone wondering what the Eurean Wall is – it is a menacingly ominous structure that stands 500 meters into the sea, as a bastion of purity and healing against a forever blue-grey sky. What it fails to let one know is the fact that in the process of creating the elixir that soothes man of fears, aches and grotesque images from the past, it drives the lives of many of its workers into misery, mine included.

So as I entered these cursed gates, a crow with a red ribbon around its neck called out to me from behind. It wailed in pain as a result of archery in the neighborhood, but I had no choice except to get to my workplace. I just dropped a small jute bag with a small bottle in it, beside the crow hoping it would apply itself. Despite the dreary image that superseded the languorous walls on the outside, the insides of this fortress resembled the future from the future unseen – luxurious, royal and cushioned. The torture was of the mind. They used the principle of feeding the goat well before slaughtering it. My mind, like most minds, often tended to slander the Employers. And in this castle of a work place libel of any kind was simply unacceptable. They took out long processions against those who even stirred any mind activity against the establishment.

Subsequently, I switched on my digital Skytop( Floating laptop)which got me acquainted with the sales and accounts that spiraled upwards as every day passed. The monopoly of the Axe Oil company was a strong motivating force for all employees whether they liked it or not. All of us employees were given glass casings of this Axe Oil that rested comfortably on our tables as a reminder of our curtailed and shackled lives.

Suddenly, shrieking like a sharp whistle, a small cleaner-boy was being dragged out and was followed by a trail of blood that dripped from his foot. It seemed as though the force at the top of the hierarchy had struck down the free mind. I looked at the calendar and realized it was that day of the week when the sacrifice of the unscrupulous was given to the Crocodile Arena. Here, crocodiles didn’t eat you or bite you. In fact they were blind. But the sheer size and number of the well-fed crocodiles trampled you in a frenzied stampede thereby crushing you previously upheld untrammelled spirit. This was the nature of the ill-treatment.

The mailbox on my screen flashed in bold “Get with it!” in reference to the consignments that were pending and snapped me out of the delirium. The Eurean Wall was known to manufacture the greatest and finest by-product of Eucalyptus oil which they branded the ‘Axe Oil’. This meant that the work load was harder to accomplish than scaling the highest peaks. I decided to get with it when right outside my window, that occupied the frontal portion of my desk, crowds started to gather. It was the death call for that poor boy that got dragged out. I panicked and my chair slipped almost dropping my head on the table to the side. Just managing balance I peered from above the glass window to see the words in the Crocodile Arena light up in blue and red. It read “TO THE UNSCRUPULOUS, MERCY WILL NOT BE SHOWN.”

I then saw the entire process of the boy being crumpled and pulverized organ by organ which forced a sweat drop from my forehead to my chest. There was nothing anyone could do at this point but gulp. Everyone in my cabin just gingerly whispered, “I knew he was cursing boss for asking him to polish the oil’s bottle by an extra millimeter. Stupid guy’s thoughts would’ve been caught on the radar”. As soon as the boy saw his last breaths everyone immediately opened their respective bottles on their tables and whiffed away - as though the oil would heal their minds and spirits and contain their exuberant hearts whilst they still worked there. And everything else resumed as it was, with a pleasant smile! Just then across my window, the red-ribbon crow fluttered away into the horizon.

Hot Springs on a river bank! Enticing much?

The Temple

Possessed dance forms

The Akloli river lit by an effulgence glow

Possessed dance forms Part 2

Knowledgable kids in the hot spring

Meditative old man praying for absolution

Descending chain of mountains

Landmark to get off 

A tortiose that was once alive

Take a bow

Rajasthani craftwork resting by the river

Have you been tempted by the hot springs that dot the continent of Africa or the Brazilian region of the South Americas? Un-fret that frown on your face as there is a desi and unimagined hot spring right in your neighborhood, on the outskirts of Mumbai(Thane), that exists in the exiled and religious town of Vajreshwari. So take a bold dip into the cubicles of the hot springs the locals call ‘Kund’ and wait till a current passes through your body - Not a malignant one; just a simple eddy of heat that will rejuvenate your body until its gooseflesh erupts.

Now, this small town was built as homage to Shree Vajreshwari Yogini Devi who inhabited the place in the 18th century. If you are waiting to be thrilled by the spirit of Navaratri or Gudi Padwa, you must visit this temple to see the palanquin taking the idol out as a procession that might make for a memory larger than life. Or if you like snazzy Hindi songs, you’ll exit satiated on the orchestra nights that happen on the premises of the temple. If not, you could still be a decent human and pay tribute to the Hindu tradition as the inner stone that laces the temple walls resound a surreal heart-rending wave of serenity.

What’s most exciting is the road trip. The bumpy and narrow roads will throw you onto the streets of ‘Gangs of Wasseypur’ and threaten you to feel like a gangster. Or you may end up shrieking like a monkey due to the irregular ride. Regardless, you can take a bus from Vasai station or better yet, ride a bike from wherever you wish. The only reason a bike is recommended is due to the ride back – At Night. The descending chains of mountains that foreground the dimly-lit, star-studded sky make for a splendid picture. There’s nothing better than riding on a road where you can see no signs of civilization or even lights. Just the skies and you! Or your cowardly partner could keep cursing you for the perils he claims to foresee.

Anyway, before you reach Varjreshwari - where the temple glows at night and the hot springs spew medicinal sulphur water, you must try to catch the ridiculously hilarious advertising that packs all billboards at Vasai station. You can guarantee yourself a laugh. From there, it will cost you just Rs.30 by bus and one heck of a view that screams catholic architecture all the way until Vajreshwari.

On having reached there, if you get lucky you may see a procession walking into the temple with men dancing in a twisted and possessed fashion. Before you get ideas, the guy usually is possessed. A lady, his mother supposedly, whips him until they reach the idol structure of the devi. This is when a premises cleaner, Ankush Rao, will willingly wear a genial smile while being your un-appointed guide to the temple.

Once you’ve done with your visits to the temple and the hot springs, you can amble across to the river on whose banks is nuzzled the Tansa resort. Here, if you are looking for authentic Maharashtrian food, the Poha(Rs. 30) and Vada Pav(Rs.15) will present itself like a wet dream. If you don’t like Maharastrian food, then you’ll have to starve until you reach home. Either ways, you can stay there at extremely affordable rates, so much so that your pocket will look up and smile at you in relief. Happy cheap holidaying!

Beware: No street lights. So carry a torch for post sunset adventures into the wild.

Photo Couresy: Sid Vasani. 

Music blushes with the hash

Parov Stelar

Zedd

Chet Faker

Nico Pusch

DISCLAIMER: Unobtrusively explicit content.

Lonavala on a unexpected saturday night is fresher and more soul-lifting than you think it is - With two special ingredients.

Everyone complains of going to Lonavala more number of times than a porn star partaking in the unpardonable sin mentioned in the bible. But if you are a true Mumbaikar (or belong to any other genome) you will know the respite that cool wind ruffling your hair can bring while driving on an oblivion-headed Expressway. I will tell you how! And it will thereby unhang your forlorn heads that are doused in sadness of not being able to plan a trip out of this riddled city for the simple sake of breathing in some oxygen.

Dump all that ails you in the backyard of your miniscule Bombay house and fling yourself into a car that will assure you the unfelt and unseen vistas, served from the deli, which is a mish-mash of music and hash -I call it  'Musash'. Begin at about 8 pm. I know advocating getting stoned can land me in a not so desirable place, like jail or the orthodox parent’s bad books, but who cares right. I was once told by a very wise and old man whose travails and escapades into the unsavory lanes of Europe precede him, “Try smoking up. It will show you a light that this world will not dare to otherwise.”  Digging into my knowledge of drugs, I quizzed him innocently “Doesn’t that happen with acid?” to which he responded “Acid shows you the inner lining of the Pandora’s Box, beta”. So take an imaginary thread and tie your three friends together whom you think will share similar tastes in music and scenery and will regale in the Hashy fumes.

Then once you’ve done that, fill in your fuel and carry a skimpy jacket for something I will reveal in just a while. Hit the road. But before you do that try getting these songs that will enchant the night to a sparkling glow and soothe you from the rubbish strewn across your garbage city. Unfurl your mind and let in the magic, the smoke and the songs. Something that defined my trip was ‘Around the World’ by Nico Pusch and Chris Valentino. You don’t need to be an avid follower of the electro sounds. A mild intoxication will create niches in your soul to accept the beauty this song spills from every note. The artist whispers mellifluous sounds into your ears making you believe that there is a life after. So let go sometimes. And see the world if the world calls out your name with a longing. Even if it doesn’t, still go. It’s more promising and worthy to look at than any human.

Emeron and Fox's ‘Nightmares’ will open your eyes to the levels of darkness the night holds, especially when it’s dotted with so many mysterious stars. Then there are the barbaric sounds of electro-swing rendered by Parov Stelar. For those who don’t know what electro swing is, me included until this night, is a genre that has a bouncy ring to it above and beyond the basic EDM rhythm. This artist dangles songs like ‘Mojo Radio’, ‘Matilda’ and ‘Love’ over your head when the mood sets in. Remember to not get swayed . Keep your eyes on the road. The drive requires you there. Let your ears do that dancing.

Once you’ve reached Lonavala in about a couple of hours, especially when you’ve literally hovered over the road, you’ll see pickled fog swerving from one end of your windshield to the other. You can grab a bite at Sunny’s Dhaba or Tony’s Dhaba – Tony’s is a better option. You know why? You’ll trip your lungs off when you see the emus glaring into your sedated eyes. Their eyes are usually so red that you think they’re stoned. Stay away from them though. Creepy and oddly-built creatures they are. You never know, they may even be the litter of some UFO. Just saying! Take out that earlier mentioned jacket and put in on your head. Wrap it around and experience the emu’s eye’s widening. That should be sufficient entertainment for the night. Or you might just get scared. Contain it. Don’t shriek. They’re really elegant birds. They don’t appreciate unruly behavior. You can then saunter towards the cots and lie below the blue-black sky until the music on your car’s system hits ‘Hallelujah’ by Jeff Buckley which will mark the end of your swift and blissful journey. Drive back in peace. Don’t speak much. Let the air flow in and stimulate the introspection, like me with this trivial piece, before you get triggered to create something. The next thing you know your back in Bombay the next morning flushed with vitality.

More songs to dump onto your iPod/Phone/mp3 player:

• ·         Clarity - Zedd
• ·         Zocalo – Armin Van Burren
• ·         No Diggity – Chet Faker
• ·         Cherleston Buterfly – Parov Stelat
• ·         Nothing But You – Armin Van Burren

Stairway to Malang

The Stairway

Beer at your own will

In case you feel you're lost

The passageway

The Grave

Goats doing the journey with you

Get a perspective of the height

Embrace the altitude

You always have replenishers

With creepy and disheveled men pleading for hand-shakes to divine intervention bestowed from a supreme force, this Dargah is pitched on dazzling extremes of a wide spectrum.

As a sign of exception to the hindu-muslim disparity and for those whose faith is in encrusted in the fissures of the earth, this magnificent tomb of Hazrat Haji Malang Sha Sarkar Rahymattullha Taala Alhy, more popularly christened as Haji Malag, is nothing short of auspicious and thereby has its doors open to people of all religious outlooks. People usually do pilgrimages. People walk for days and days But here, only people with unabashed grit and determination make it to the top most point of the peak of the mountain where lay the grave(Mazaar) of Haji Malang.

This Dargah is located on the top of hill and is about a whopping 789 m above sea level. Why the number is astonishing is not because of its size or some superstition attached to it. Simply because that’s the distance you will walk to pay homage to the revered sitting atop the hill. But not to fret as reinforcements keep happening on the way at multiple stops. You can consume the most refreshing drink, the Nimbu Paani, or the newly added drink to most menus, Glucon-D which seems to rejuvenate not only your physical strength but also gives you the mental impetus.

So to begin this trip you can hop onto any train that will lead you to Kalyan Station on the outskirts of Mumbai. Well, you can take a bus also but why would you want to do that since trains are easily available through all times of the year and are way cheaper. Now, once you’ve got to the station you might run the risk of getting a tad fleeced by the rickshah wallas as they claim the destination is an obscure land. You could now think of using the bus which will also take approximately the same time and will be less harsh on the wallet.

So there you are riding through the dusty town of Kalyan until the gates of the brown-weeded landscapes with well-etched svelte roads welcome you. The plateau region banked on either sides of the road will seem like a desert with its raw charm having absorbed your eye balls onto the peculiar vegetation that adorn the place. After an hour of the journey you would have arrived at the foot of the hills. Ideally this expedition is best considered during the wee hours of the morning or the languorous hours of the night to witness the glimmer and shimmer of the moonlight on the rocky landscape and to avoid profuse loss of bodily salts. Notwithstanding, this still makes for a perfect picture to a rural locale with stereotypical cows carrying hay in their mouth.

Then, you begin your ascent onto the hill where you might contradictorily find a wine shop. You obviously don’t consume any of it. It’s meant for the locals who stay there. Yes, people actually stay in dingy huts on the half-cooked road leading to the top that seem supremely intriguing. This is where you might encounter men asking you to take their blessings by shaking their hands. Advisable would be to ignore and move on unless you’re really looking for some drama. The people selling sugarcane juice may also be somewhat unfriendly. But be patient. You need them for the refreshments. Now, you would have reached the first set of three graves after a grueling climb of 1 and half hours. The largest and grandest one of them is of Haji Malang. You can take your footwear off, take a quick wash at the ablution center and enter the tomb. Suddenly the moment of epiphany – The entire journey gets forgotten and a wave of serenity hits you hard in the belly and you almost freeze. You can’t even remember how long it took you to climb the hill. You will just want to bask in the spirit of the holy. Drinking some water at the tomb, you can witness the chandelier sprinkling its straggling golden light in all directions on the grave and the Arabic inscriptions engraved on the walls. The feeling is simply ecstatic and lends a new definition to soothing.

So untying yourself from the benevolent energy in the Dargah when you make your exit, you might feel a bit weak in the knees while walking down. You might just be in love. Or maybe not! But you surely can grab a bite at the small veg and non-veg restaurant beside the pond that is situated behind the tomb. Also, don’t bother asking people where the dustbin is. You’ll get a puzzled look from the locals expecting you to throw it off the hill. So find a dustbin or keep remnants in your bags.

Be There: The only reason you should visit the place is the sheer peace-value attached to it. The grand fragrance that wafts through the Dargah might just convulse you to collapse.

Beware: Don’t encourage the locals and give in to their whimsies. Keep your belongings safe and walk on the stone path. Walking off it might be easy on your thighs but not on your life. You might fall off the cliff. But then again that’s the adventure. It’s a trek at the end of the day. So gear up with shoes and track pants preferably.

Reside: You can even stay overnight in the compound of the Dargah which is lain with cool marble. This will give you a chance to see the entire city from a summit in the moonlight.

Closest from: Kalyan station, Mumbai.

Photo Courtesy: Siddharth Vasani.

A Behanding in Spokane: Review

The second-hand quest…

Man goes in search of many things. And he often strives to achieve it perhaps till the end of his time. But this time, the search is quaint in its own way. This man being referred to tries to find his missing hand which gets chopped off 17 years ago under the railway tracks by a bunch of hillbillys. Yes, playwright Martin Macdonagh has done it again in "A Behanding in Spokane" with his abstract sense of plot development and his delineated yet idiosyncratic characters.

Carmichael (Ali Fazal) is the protagonist whose hand is being sought after. Hacked off hand, so to speak; Under the train; On the railway tracks. As has been iterated umpteen times in the play. Anyway, he figures through sources that a black/colored man Toby (Abhishek Saha) and his low IQ girlfriend Marilyn (Shweta Tripathi) have found his hand and agrees to reward them with a couple of 100 bucks at his hotel room. Something presumable on Toby’s mind would’ve been “Let’s give him a hand, in this situation”, or “A hand in need is a hand indeed”. Or maybe not! However, due to stifling times in their relationship Toby and Marilyn bring a black man’s hand accidentally. This evidently irks Carmichael off and he extorts information from them about his real hand at gun point. Enter, the nosy hotel receptionist Mervyn (Prabal Panjabi). His unfamiliar love for the Gibbon since he was a child and loose wiring in the head just give room for more unpredictable twists. Apparently he just wanted to be brave.

Either ways, performances by Ali Fazal, most convincing old, frustrated man, and Abhishek Saha( barring the impersonation of the black man accent – a poor imitation of Chris Tucker from ‘Rush Hour’) were stellar. Their timing and nuances triggered the precise amount of humor. Prabal Panjabi and Shweta Tripathi had their moments of glory but went a tad over the top. The subtle situation of fear creeping in was thus lost as a result. Although, director Kashin Shetty has now another reason to boast about Martin Macdonagh being his idol, and his story telling, crisply packed into 100 minutes, stands evidence to that. But just like the hand, Shetty could’ve hacked off most of the expletives as it didn’t benefit anything in anyway. Neither did it bring humor to the table, nor did it elicit fear. It was simply misleading.

All in all, a taut production with a vague and futile plot, but bolstered with exceptional performances as saving grace. It’s that time of the year when you can say the actors propelled the play in a random direction which ostensibly looked like a forward one. Will Carmichael find his missing hand even though it won’t serve him any purpose, once he’s found it? Not like it can be stitched on. Or used to draw (as said by Mervyn)! So watch it to find out the grim answers it holds.

Rating: 3/5

Lattu pe Lattu

EVEN THE MILL WORKERS HAD THEIR INANE DREAMS

In the narrow bustling lane of khinchwada, Lower Parel, taxi drivers and kids seemed to win maximum points for creating a noisy racket. In all this, private car drivers held a small share of the noise contribution. They usually whispered when they spoke of issues about the city, but when the talks of who-has-seen-what-big-house-where arose, their tone got preachy and screechy topping the annoyance level of a blackberry phone alarm. Prateek would often eavesdrop on these fancy ‘top-floor view’ stories of buildings he could never go into.

Mandar, one of the drivers staying there, was banging the window on his boss’s car and singing “Unchi hai building…lift teri bandh hai…kaise main aaon..dil raza mand hai” and then spoke with pride, “Boss, kya view dekha aaj maine yaar! Akkha Mumbai ek cheenti ki maafik dikh raha tha. Train jaise toy train ke maafik tha. Samundar itna bada hai be! Tune kabhi dekha hai? Maza aa gaya.”

Nitin said in excitement realizing Mandar’s immodesty “Kiska bungla tha?”

Mandar boasted “Bangla nahiii bantai... High raisss (high rise). Godrej building. Mera seth 50 maale pe rehta hai na.”

Tantya, cutting their banal conversation, said “Khush hone ki koi zaroorat nahi hai. Yeh sab building apun log ka cheen ke banaya hai”

Mandar defensively said, “Tantya bhai. Jala naka. Tu sirf jal raha hai.”

Tantya feigned an attack towards Mandar and said “Chammaila!” which was interrupted by a top that fell off Prateek’s hand onto Tantya’s feet.

Now to rewind back a little, Prateek was a junkie and a maniac with a devil-may-care attitude when it came to tops. He saw no evil. He saw no war. All his eyes desired were to see the tops spin all day. He also told his father once that soon he would open a business and sell tops and do stage shows. Little did he know that no one cared about tops as you cross the age of 10. To his fortune he hadn’t crossed the age barrier of the cursed conscience. He was still 8. To make matters worse, his grades in the government school were more hopeless than the Indian Polity. But this didn’t speak anything about his quick acting mind. He just couldn’t memorize too much. Another of his follies was that he unnecessarily ended up creating a wreck for his father all the time. One time, he spun the top loose right in front of an old man who was cycling passed that area. The man slipped and broke a few bones. He nearly died. So as punitive treatment, his father locked him into the toilet for a night. His father was none other than the cranky old man Tantya. But Prateek didn’t sense the gravity of the situation and so just laughed about on that incident whenever he chatted with his friends. But yes he did seem to have one superiorly inherent skill – A certain Agility that was unusual from his peers or anyone of that age.

So what about Tantya - Who could blame Tantya for his misery? His wife left him 3 years ago. All he had was this numbskull of a kid who dreamt of the silliest things that one can’t even imagine - selling tops apparently. He sometimes wondered “Wah! Kya sapna paaya hai!” But now, sadly, Prateek was the only thing he had to look forward to in life. The government had stolen his rightful homeland and secure mill job that coerced him into driving rich businessmen’s cars - Those that resided in the forlorn cement jungle of Lower Parel. He’d often look at the well clad men and half naked women coming to Blue Frog from his chawl’s window at night and feel that he would never be able to provide his son with any luxury. Swallowing sadness and suffocating himself to sleep with a pillow was just another daily routine.

Coming back to where we were - Prateek then picked up the top and was winding the rope around it to get ready for round 2. He was the official champ in the area. Everyone wanted to be in his team. He would usually play 2 on 2 with the neighbor’s kids. This led to him becoming conceited and made him believe that nothing could snatch his victory. It was that day when things changed for him. The opposite 2 players were booing his name, but Prateek remained undeterred. He spun the top with the same confidence and saw it roll with the gusto of a torpedo. He then decided it was time for tricks. He picked it up on his palm and switched between his frontal palm and rear palm. He then wanted to up the ante and so he raised his hand with the top gyrating at an unprecedented speed on his palm. To his misfortune, the sun’s glimmer reflecting off Godrej tower caught his eye and the speedy object abandoned his reach. The top was on the floor to everyone’s shock. But Prateek did not flinch a muscle. His eyes were transfixed on the tower. It was the first time that the beauty of a high rise had caught his fancy. All stories of the magnificent ‘views’ from the top floors gushed in from all sides. His objective was fixed. He had somehow to get to the top floor and 

have the privilege of witnessing Mumbai from up above.

As Prateek arrived home, juggling his new top that he had bought for Rs.100 earlier that day, his father’s blood started to boil. He couldn’t help but nag Prateek.

Tantya crankily, “ Meri saari mehnet ke kamai khatam karde tu!”

Prateek innocently, “Pappa, yeh skool fees se bach gaye the. Toh mujhe laga aapko nahi chahiye hoga”

Tantya then said with a sigh, “Tujhme kab akal aayegi beta! Khana laga diya hai. Aake kha le”

While eating, Prateek brought up the topic of going to the top floor of Godrej.

Prateek said abruptly, “Pappa, mujhe bhi who View dekhna hai”

Tantya, in confusion said, “Kaunsa view?”

Prateek, “Woh building ke upar se wala view!”

Tantya bitterly, “maar khana hai ya khana? Chup chaap kha”

Prateek “Please mujhe bhi le chalo na Duggal uncle ke ghar pe. Aap toh unki gaadi roz chalate ho aur roz chaabi lautane jaate ho na. please please pleaseeeeeee…

Tantya furiously said, “Prateek! Yeh sab woh Mandar aur ka kaam hain. Sab ke dimaag mein gobar bharte rehte hain. Kaam to karte nahi hain. Bas velapanti. Aur waise bhi, wahan jaane ki koi zaroorat nahi hai. Beta tu jaanta nahi hai humne kya kya saha hai. Tere pappa ka ghar and naukri chali gayi. Hum raste pe aa gaye the. Tujhe pata hain kyun? In buildingon ke wajah se ek footi kaudi nahin mili. Khunnas aata hai jab mein uske baare mein sochta hoon. (he then breathes and snaps out of the mood).  Tu apne padhai pe dhyan de. Bade ho ke tu bhi le lena aisa ghar.

Prateek ignorantly replied, “woh toh main loonga hi. Lattu ka business jo kholna hai”

Tantya just looks at him in shock and shakes his head in disappointment. He then gets up, picks up his plate and walks off.

The next day Prateek takes his beefy partner Munna to one side and convinces him to go to the top floor of Godrej Building with him. Munna was obviously frightened at the sheer thought that going inside a building would be walking into the lion’s den and they would get caught right away. His father and mother flashed right in front of his eyes with a cane in their hand each. Munna completely disagreed. But then Prateek bribed him that he would always play in his team and that way Munna would never loose in a game. Prateek then plotted with him the next day’s plan. Before taking leave, he asked Munna to carry his top with him. Munna just nodded his head without questioning.

The next day, they reached Godrej building at 3pm when the vehicles coming in and going out were less. Prateek noticed that 3 watchmen were at the entrance and a small wall (chhoti deewar) that they could jump was located at the extreme corner of the building. They could easily jump the wall but the chances of surviving after the jump would be scarce as the guards were walking around within the building. He then took out his top and asked Munna to do the same.

Prateek in a confident tone said, “Jab main bolunga tab lattu chhodna. Aur jaise main batata hoon waise karna”. Munna just nodded his head, having no clue what was going to happen.

Prateek shouted from the bottom of his belly, “Ab!”, signaling the release of the top. He then looked at Munna and whispered “ Peeche ki chhoti deewar se”

Now as both the tops were set in motion outside the gate of the building, the guards came to shoo Prateek off. He carried both the tops in each of his palms as a grand show of his skill. He then kept harassing the 3 rotund guards with his top by going really close and saying “Yeh watchman uncle ke sar pe girne wala hai.” And then threw one of the tops on the first guards face. It somewhat knocked his face without any injuries but irked the hell out of the guard. Prateek figured it was the perfect time to run before the guards turned him into a tandoori kabab. The first and the second guards chased him till the end of the road, just before the small wall, and the third guard stood outside the gate yelling “chhodna mat kameene ko” in all this. In the meanwhile Munna managed to enter the building from the side wall and put a sleeping tablet in the third guards’ glass of water, before the third guard could walk back to the gate, and then cheekily hid behind the pot. In no time, the third guard had passed out on duty.

On the other hand, Prateek obviously outraced the guards and jumped in from the same side as Munna who met him inside the building at the small wall. Now they had successfully entered the building. The next thing that baffled them was the other guards in each of the blocks. They saw a board pointing at each of the block in the different directions. They ran as fast as they could and very quietly arrived at one of the lift that read ‘Terra Block’. The lift man looked at them with suspicion. Prateek’s quick acting mind saw that half of the building was under construction and calculated an approximate amount of floors that were finished, and realized that the only job that they looked capable for was… “Upar construction ke kaam ke liye aaye hain.” After another round of calculation and exasperation he said, “35 maala.” The guard still thought there was something fishy but the lift didn’t give him much time to think and the floor arrived. The boys casually walked out and as they averted the liftman’s gaze, ran for their lives towards the stair case. They hurriedly climbed up the rest of the 5 floors to the empty terrace using the stairs that landed them onto the terrace floor.

What Prateek was going to see next was something so spectacular that his puny mind and heart could not handle. And literally! As he stepped onto that 40^th floor, he started feeling uneasy. He held Munna and said “Munna, mujhe dekhna hai yaar. View, View, voohoo…” just before fainting. Munna not knowing a thing to do in such an unfortunate event tried all the possible things. He searched Prateek’s pocket and ironically found more of the sleeping tablets. He bloated his eyes up and rolled it thinking “Iska kya karoon main!” and threw it away. He then found a top and its rope. 

He was yelling “prateek, uth jaaa. Dekh lattu humare paas. Kal phir se jeet jaayenge”. His attempts failed hook, line and sinker. He even tried to make Prateek smell the top and rope but nothing came of it. He, at the end, carried Prateek to the ground floor and asked the lift man for water to splash. Prateek woke up saying “nahi, mujhe nahi dekhna hai. Mujhe nahi dekhna hai. Main chote se ghar main reh loonga” incessantly. Munna hinted at Prateek to get up and leave quickly before they got into trouble. They slyly slipped up to the side wall from where they came in and just as they were jumping out saw the third guard  -  the tranquilized guard was still asleep. They broke into laughter when Prateek fainted again. This time Munna had to carry him home.

As his eyes opened he saw his low-lying ceiling and his father sitting right beside him.

Prateek “Papa mujhe nahi rehna bade building mein. Main bade ho ke aise he chawl loonga. Iss mein hi lattu baichunga!”

Tantya gives him a simple smile when Munna calls out to Prateek “aye Prateek, shart yaad hai ya nahi?” reminding him of the bet that he would always make Munna win.

Prateek runs out and confidently takes the top from Munna and spins with all his power. It was time to flaunt a bit. He picked it up in his palm and raised it against the backdrop of another high rise building. Just as the top was about to fall out of his hand he grabbed it, flashed a wry smile at Munna indicating that he was ready for another attempt at the rooftop and told the opposite team “Ab tumhari baari!”

How to motivate like a cow

So today my boss Nutash Mistry came up to me and saw me slacking at work. I was harmlessly beginning my mindless day by reading a book “How to motivate and get motivated” by some downtrodden foreign author. Nutash was already upset from before and it showed from the brisk pace in his stride. His boss might have given him a hard time. Or his wife. It was hard to say. But either ways he was determined to give me a lecture on moral ethics of work and how ‘working hard’ was very important. “Perfect!” was my only thought and I put my book down to pay attention to what he had to say.

My colleague Varun couldn't care less about Nutash. He was anyway quitting next month. He had already planned a trip to Dubai as a retirement from this lack-lustre of a company. So when Nutash started his groan to me, Varun was sitting right beside me. Again, pretending to do some quality work which was a farce, and evidently so as he was playing Farmville. So that’s the kind of boredom I’m talking about - when you start playing Farmville to pass time.

Nutash began his oration, “Sahil, you must work harder. All that I see you’re doing is sitting around and facebooking.” He then looked at Varun and said, “And no one in the organization wants to work.” Back at me, “Everyone just wants to come in the morning, sit, make cheap talks, and not work at all. I’m telling you if I was the CEO I would’ve made sure that this company was somewhere else. In our sports division, there’s so much scope to make so much money. But our CEO is one lazy douchebag who wants to just meet SRK in every event.” Imitating his CEO in a deranged parsi accent, “Nutash, why don’t we get SRK at our boxing event? Why don’t we get him for our corporate credential show?” Back to his agitated voice again “Now you tell me what SRK will do at a boxing night? Haan? Darde disco with his abs? What nonsense! Ek paise ka akal nahi che usme. Banechoddh!” Changing his tone after grasping some air “But anyway, what I’m telling you boys today is something very important. You should change your attitude or else you won’t reach anywhere in life”.

So for all this while the two of us listened like innocent school boys nodding our heads at time to time and giving him the assurance that he was on the right path to motivating us. Somewhere I did start to believe his words and realize the errors in my ways. Just when I started to retrospect about how to hasten processes in my life and get it back on the right track, Nutash said something so ironic and hypocritical I couldn't believe my ears. He bent over closer to us and very sheepishly said, “Listen, boys I have to leave early today.  By 3! You’ll finish the work na? Okkkkkayyyy great!” He then patted me on my back and walked out of the office wearing a broad shameless smile on his face for his very instrumental smoke break.

I immediately turned to Varun, who wasn't the least bit surprised at this stupidity, and shook my head in shock and said “Haaaah! What is this guy! So much for taking his words seriously”. We just burst into an uncontrollable laughter and got back to our uselessness at our respective desks.

So friends, often times when you think your boss is always right, I think it’s time stop selling yourself so short. If your life is temporarily off track, your boss has definitely derailed with some serious concussions to the brain.