Chhavi Noticed This!

I wanted to put up something Christmas-y and I guess I’ve been in a quirkier, lazier mood than usual so this is all I got! Merry Christmas all, from Chhavi Noticed This! and a bloom from my very own balcony “garden”.
It’s the only one we’ve had, although the bougainvillea is drooping with blossoms. Where I lived in Mass. had wonderful soil for roses – there were houses boasting 60-year old bushes that were pretty much knotty, gnarled trees with massive, fragrant flowers. I’ve never been crazy about roses, but these were heady. And then I had a friend who once stopped on the bike path and made this elaborate show of deviating, stopping, and sniffing. I made a point of stopping and smelling the roses every day after that.

I know people who make the stars, but I hadn’t thought far enough to the people who make kandils/phanooses This lady was on my way home after a walk and she was painstakingly putting papers on the frames and then decorating them with handmade roses – such works of art!
This is really my favorite time of year. Most building in Mumbai have lights and lanterns in their balconies – several even have color coordinated ones. Coming into the city from the airport, the government colonies look like multistoried fairy tale houses, each block uniformly sporting a different colored kandil: 21 houses with all yellow kandils, the next 21 with all orange, then 21 of red. It’s magical.

Which reminds me, we haven’t strung up our lights yet. How will Lakshmi know where to come if it’s all dark here?

Outside the Lower Parel office of Mudra, this Ganesh blesses the cars and junta jostling by. I believe he’s been around for a few months, but I only caught sight of him looming largely this past week. When I think of mudras, the dancer’s poses, it’s not the agency that comes to mind but the shadow warrior in Rushdie’s Haroun – easily the best book he’s ever written. Next to this Ganesh is a multi-armed goddess. I’ll get her next time there’s no car blocking her length. Meanwhile please to note that there is a fresh hibuscus tucked between Ganesh’s toes, then, and every day since.

Once in a while, I see something that takes me back to my childhood with such an intensity that I have to stop and take a breath. Remember these Phantom cigs? I’d lick their pink tips and pretend to smoke them (back when I thought smoking was ‘cool’.) I seem to remember competing with my friend Rima to see who could make the end most pointy before it broke.
Maybe these have always been around and I haven’t been paying too much attention. Some candies I adored as a kid have disappeared, but others, like Parle’s Melody Chocolate Toff, have been resurrected, with shiny new 21st-century packaging. Harnik, here’s blowing phantom smoke rings at ya!

So the blog, my email, and my ISP has been down for a while. But the folks at Network Solutions and Dreamhost seem to have finally made their peace and let me transfer my domain name. And MTNL restored our broadband service (so it now functions for more than 30 minutes a day), at approximately the same time. I’ve been working random hours and places. And on one such jaunt, I caught sight of this kid having his bike fixed on the sidewalk. And when he straightened up, I noticed his shirt. Look closely. Cue orchestra! Celine, honey, you’re on!

“Like a circle in a spiral, Like a wheel within a wheel, Never ending or beginning, On an ever-spinning reel,” wrote Alan Bergman and these lyrics were spinning through my mind as I sat in a ferris wheel for the first time in … something like two decades? This was at the Mount Mary Festival/Bandra Fair and not only did we jump into the ferris wheel and scream our lungs out, we also shot small balloons with an air gun, and bought soap bubbles! Such fun!
If you want to see the “wheel within a wheel” click on the picture for a different image.

Once upon a time, when Mumbai was a leading exporter of cotton to the Western world, there were many textile mills in the small port city. Then there was a plague, and then there was a strike. A long, long strike. Today, most of the defunct mills either stand derelict or, after a 2006 Government ruling on the disputed land, poised to become the next big mall. The Blue Frog is in a mill compound in an in-between-stage. Several shed-like structures now house advertising agencies, production houses, plus this state of the art venue. Imagine my surprise when I peered into a smallish building next to the club, one night after a show, and saw looms! And this same building is rumoured to be new location of Zenzi! hmmmm….

Go on, look at that image carefully. Remind you of anything? No, this isn’t an old photo. It was taken at the Plaza cinema near Opera House in Mumbai just a few weeks ago. I was waiting in line with a friend for tickets to see “Singh is Kinng” when I noticed the sign and I was overcome with nostalgia for an age before computers, spell check (“Good lock!”) and printers, when all our signs for school and on our bedroom doors were painstakingly stencilled so they looked uniform, clean, and official. I still can’t believe someone at the cinema still does this! It’s so, so cool! I guess there are at least some arenas in life where a little effort is ok – and less expensive than an upgrade.

(Speaking of upgrades, my trusty Nokia 6233 died last week. I’m upgrading to a phone that has a slightly better camera. An expensive upgrade, but then I’ve never pretended to be anything less than lazy )

Since I got tagged by aditya, I’m doing a random post that doesn’t quite fit ☺
To be true to my own blog, the photo is of a place I have lived in. This cool dude used to show up and hang out in my balcony last year in Delhi

4 Jobs I’ve Had (in chronological order): Girl Friday at King College, News producer at boston.com, producer at an Indian radio station, & freelance radio content producer at my company News Radio India Sonologue.
4 Movies I Could Watch Over and Over: Dr. Strangelove (or how I learned to stop worrying and love the bomb), (more…)

I’ve lived in many cities now and one reason Delhi didn’t work for me was that it’s too landlocked. Boston, Bombay, New York…give me water! When I feel restless, here in Mumbai, I can’t jump on a bike and go off for a ride (there are no sidewalks to even walk or run on) so these days I slip off towards the sea. And then I can see the sweep of the bay – punctuated by fairy lights and the vast futility of man wrestling with nature. Or something like that