The Blue Eyed Boys of Bombay

I have dabbled in so many professions and businesses that I have lost chronological count. But memories get jogged and surf up to clarity. As if it has happened now…

My childhood friend stayed a floor below me. His father belonged to the now extinct profession of being a negative artist. Since we were both out of college and also since we belonged to lower middle class families, he suggested a profession for us. Printing stationery.

Tucked away in a chawl, off the busy arterial road of Dadar, was a quaint treadle machine. And a composing board of alphabets of various fonts and sizes. Each and every alphabet was handpicked and set in a case and placed on the treadle for printing.

It was one of the evenings in the late 80s or early 90s that a friend called to say his bosses wanted some business cards printed.

The Andheri East Police Station is conveniently placed on the junction of the Andheri Kurla road and the ever busy Station road of Andheri.  I walked inside the main gates and turned left towards a small room with a plate dangling on the entrance saying “Anti Narcotics”

I saw two handsome, young dudes who looked like the cops in the films (especially since both were in plain clothes) The spark in their eyes suggested the importance of the department that they were handling.  We sat down to think out the design and the look of the business card. Futuristic, it was when the card was finally designed and printed. For the boys who looked sure of where they were headed. Assistant Inspectors of Mumbai Police, Pradeep Sharma and Vijay Salaskar. Black coloured cards with their names and details etched in silver and white, respectively.

After a few years, a few friends passed the police exams together in the same batch.  It called for celebration and I was invited. The SRP grounds are located on the SRP Camp off the western express highway in Jogeshwari. A huge lung of expanse with small little barracks for houses. I remember sitting on the ground enjoying the camaraderie. I also remember being introduced to a quiet reticent guy named Daya Nayak who was, I believe, part of the group that passed out.

Friends turned foes, Vijay Salaskar and Pradeep Sharma rose in their respective careers in spite of the controversies around their special duties. Experienced and backed by a solid network of informers.

Encounter specialists were the new celebrities of the era. Media coverage, movies inspired, glamour and style.

The Blue Eyed Boys.

Time changes a lot of things.

Pradeep Sharma, Praful Bhonsle, Ravindra Angre, Nitin Vichare, Daya Nayak, Sachin Vaze. The list is long.

Consequence of circumstance. And now Vijay Salaskar.

The hole is too wide and open and looking dangerous. Someone in the know and in charge has to think and think fast. Before terror throttles the city permanently.

 

 

 

 

One more Wednesday

Mutation is not the word that should be related to the terrorists involved in the Mumbai attack.

In India, it’s a case of classic lack of intelligence. Lack of intelligence, not because we have stupid professionals, working in the various security branches. Lack of intelligence because we have clever greedy people in power who don’t allow the mechanism to function in the manner they are supposed to, in order to minimize security threats.

Here, everything is divided in twos.

One politician, his mafia, his magistrate, his lawyer and his police. His agent, his scams, his wealth.

The other politician, his mafia, his magistrate, his lawyer and his police. His agent, his scams, his wealth.

History has proved since our existence, it was during our own busy petty disputes, that the enemy has entered. Calmly and in style. Targeting and eliminating with military precision.

Since the last one week, I was so glad to see the swelling number of foreigners adding colour to the city and reminding of the festive season, so near. Things looked good for the economy.

Until Wednesday night.

Hundreds killed, a lot more injured, hostages (inside and outside) held by the still-at-large terrorists.

The politicians are gleeful about the timing.

There was a time when leaders took moral responsibility and stepped down.

I think, we are the ones who have mutated and become immune and thick skinned.

Or is it that we don’t know who is responsible?

 

 

I Day 61

1 more anniversary. A celebration of one more number.
Anniversaries and birthdays are good to look back and renew oneself for the betterment of biological life.
I yawned my way down to one more flag hoisting. I stood still for one more anthem. For a day I will wear my love for the country and my patriotism on my sleeve.
The SRA scheme in Mumbai is picking up again. Hundreds of crores will exchange hands. Politically backed builders and agents will rake in the moolah.
The slums are going. A systematic plan to slowly push the common man out of the city limits is happening.
The square feet and the bank lending rate has already made a genuine home out of reach.
Travelling in and around the city has become a curse to the public transport traveller.
Changing climate patterns and unhygienic conditions are giving birth to new ailments.
After a day of hectic travelling, I felt like a beer in the evening. But no alcohol on Independence Day. The reason? Google ONLY KNOWS
JAI HIND!

Stuck in time

At any given time, we have an Indian walking whole nights and days to pilgrimages, the only benefit being fitness.
Crores of rupees are collected in the temples and their respective trusts and no accountability or benefit is shared with the common man.
Most of the propaganda still includes Shree Ram, Shree Krishna, Chhatrapati Shivaji and various figures, real or imaginary, to brainwash the majority – the uneducated people.
Thank Almighty God and his entire team for all the vaccines and the timely in(ter)ventions happening all around us that help us survive.
I belong to a district in Karnataka wherein every year, millions of rupees are collected voluntarily by every clan (primarily due to fear of displeasing the spirits), to perform various poojas to appease the spirits.
The joke is “ kola manpu na aaye gaadi get unde, kola manpauna aaye, gaadi maariye” Translated, it means, “ The man who performs the ritual buys a car, the man who sponsors it, sells his car.”
What have we invented or achieved as an Indian, individually or collectively, all these years - post independence?
We are a land of people who always seem to be stuck in time.
After claiming the first and only cricket world cup in 1983, all we can do now is celebrate it’s anniversary. Pathetic is a very mild word to express embarrassment.

Kya main bolu?

Exactly, five and a half months after the British fled India, the Mahatma was shot dead by a Hindu.
The stage was set for the Panditji to tackle underdevelopment, unemployment, Kashmir, Azad Kashmir, Pakistan, the sown seeds of the departing British, Lord Dick Mountbottom ;) and the adulterous Edwina Ashley.

2008
The Gandhis (the neo Nehrus) are in power along with a clutch of several other parties. The situation is the same. Added to the scenario is rampant corruption, wily and unscrupulous politicians (who care two hoots even though they can foresee the kind of remnants, they will leave behind, for the next generation).
A different Gandhi is being marketed every time to befriend the voter.
Conviction does not happen in India anymore.
If a VDIS was declared, especially for politicians and their friends and families… Mr. FM could have a fairytale of a budget next year.
You have to take your family for an outing on a Sunday evening to the nearest mall… (can existence get more pitiful than that?)
Forty minutes spent in a stationary position and that too in an afternoon traffic… (the reason : no signal and no police)
The car is affordable, but the fuel…
The house is almost affordable, but the car park… (you have to pay hard cash, upfront)