Ghost factories

Nothing is ghastly about this. For almost a year now I am staying in Thane. A place well known (in and around wagle estate) for its industries. But whenever I see anything old and deplorable and more than that deserted, any structure for that matter, it sets me to wonder, what brought this state to this structure? What was that that robbed a structure of its past glory?
Most of the times however I see “court receiver” board on it. At such times I get some kind of answer to my question. That there may have been some kind of feud between families or the company it self went in loss (this can be seen when a bank’s board is also attached to it), but sometimes I get no answers to my questions.
My bus takes the usual LBS route to my bread and butter. On my way I see enormous single storey ghost factories, some of them are as follows:
Modella textiles (closed due to legal dispute, court receiver’s board can be seen)
Ralli wolf or wolf electric tools (no idea why it got closed, may be union dispute the company may have got shifted else where)
Wellcome Burroughs and Wellcome (which kind of factory not known)
Some of the closed down factories lost themselves to new upcoming malls or multi storey buildings some others are waiting to be broken down. When? God knows. Some structures I found at Marol (andheri) and at bandra, vile Parle (when the bus from andheri turns for Mithibai college) and Mahim (some abandoned houses, you can call them bungalows, glorious once upon a time, with their old structures, caught in dispute…, but those were very few and had their answers logically attached to them, with the help of black and white court receiver’s board.
Walking by or passing by these sites make me wonder their past. What must have been when such structures were buzzing with activity? How they must have looked then when they still were adorned with paint which now looked just so hopelessly peeled off? What happened to the people who lived there? Did they perish by the blow of a lock out or managed to bounce back? Do they really have some “noorie” hidden inside, ready to pounce on anyone at night? These and such questions always puzzle me and I wonder I could ever get answers to these questions.

Another trip to Goa

My sister, my mother and my self had to go to Goa last week for some religious occasion accompanied with us was a brat called “Bandar” alias my nephew.
The earlier day after work and winding up at home I left for my mom’s place by bus as next day the train was early in the morning. On my way I came across many Christian places, now distinguished by their “stars” lamps for Christmas on the Christmas eve. The whole journey was eventful as I was fascinated seeing the beautiful lamps emanating the mysterious red or yellow light.
Half asleep I reached home. A bit late. My nephew was already there and was waiting to sleep even if his mother was trying to make him go to sleep. Stealth that I never knew before, I tried to enter bed, but he got up and called me “pachi” and hugged me…I smiled all the days exertion seemed to wear off it was only after this short meeting that he went off to sleep.
The next morning in a hurry we finished off everything and after hailing a taxi, headed towards the station in cold early morning. The train was miraculously on time and we with bag baggage one of which was not staying in place at all (who else except the “Bandar”) managed to get into the train. Later life was full of events with my nephew not staying at one place and giving us missed heartbeats the moment he was out of sight. We devoured poha (which my sis thought was free as the last time we went the food was included in train fare but this time the poor girl had to pay for it) and sandwiches and teas and coffees. We reached the destination in the early evening. And after a wash and short tea break we headed to the market since my sis (here she comes again) wanted to buy stuff “exclusively” from Goa. (Nope not feni) like “tirfal”, “kokum”, “sukke mase” and “amsat” etc. my sis incidentally wanted to buy “Christmas” sweets from the store. As per my suggestion we got hold of the same from mongenis. Outside was a person painting tattoos on people’s hands for free on the day of Xmas. As a token of Christmas when I offered him a pastry, his simple face showed so many joys that I thought that the day was worth it.
We came to our place and it was beautifully lit with lights including the deepastambha ( a structure found at every old temple of Goa, where lights/diyas are decorated).after having an early hearty “Satwik” meal in the canteen, we went to our room for some rest before the “aarti” at the temple. Finally the bong sounded and we went in the direction of the temple. Before aarti there was a round outside the temple with decked up beautiful idol of the goddess, this time on a beautifully lit peacock. My nephew aided in pushing the peacock, how proud we felt of him at that time. The procession ended as magnificently as it had started, with the beautiful aarti (the chants actually vibrate as they are supposed to) and later generous Prasad of fruits, sweets etc.
The next day passed in flurry with the gorgeous ladies performing the abhishek and me managing the brat J lunch was simple and wholesome fare at the purohit’s place (the one who performed our puja), after having a real sleepy nap, we headed for a toofan mail visit to other temples, buying papads and achars in between. Dinner was again in the canteen and after the aarti we headed to our room for packing. The next day after completing 21 “pradakshanas” I headed with my sister to “maruti chi tekdi” where I saw a kingfisher and fog draped Goa and warm early rays of young sun and smelt the lush of greenery and freshness. A fragrance that I always loved…after coming down, we had a hearty breakfast and we headed to the station. Such was our jet age trip to Goa. The main thing that I enjoyed was being with my sis and mother for a trip after a really long ago, the place where we stay and the simple life there. People who don’t have much but are happy in what they have and don’t pretend with what they don’t. The simple food and simple living where I would love to come again and again, not as a tourist but as a native.

Of mid afternoon snacks.

My mother was a perfect example of working woman. Getting up by 5.15 am and starting the day, with our dabbas, lunch, fresh hot breakfast every day (like poha,upma,idli and dosa) and getting impeccably dressed to rush to the office on dot.buying vegetables and coming home after a real long day to prepare another dinner, all freshly made from the scratch.the dinner would be sureshot be ready by 8.00 pm. How did she manage this feat single handedly only god knows. In between she used to make chips etc for us over hungry children. What I learned from her is perfectionism and time management. We will leave “aai puran” for some other time.
So on a Saturday (when aai had half day) or Sunday afternoon or early morning, when we used to be hungry and not interested in having something readymade. After mock irritation aai used to get up and prepare something. Kailoli or dadpe poha, gul pohe or appe. Sometimes roomali vadi (depended on chaas availability J) or onion bhajjis if we were lucky. I loved dadpe pohe so much that I used to take it for my german class as mid morning snack, though I used to get few morsels of it after my friends raided on it. Then there was kailoli that I used to almost gorge straight from the tava, huffing to let out the steam. Sometimes she would make crispy idli chura or chapatti chura, which never seemed enough.
If you are wondering what is kailoli, it is a kind of dosa made only from rice flour, chopped onions,coriander, finely chopped green chilly and salt. This dough was then ladeled to make a thin “uttapa” on the pan. Drizzled lightly with oil and cooked from both sides, it was simply mindblowing the fresh taste of onion and fragrance of coriander with small bombs of chillies. Indeed this is one dish, so simple and so easy to make, something that I almost always prefereed. Next to dadpe pohe ofcourse

“aahista aahista” the current rewind repeat

Leaving aside Bipasha Basu and story of Bacchna eye hasinoon (what can I say but I like usual slapsticks too…unless there is no proper storyline) , what I really liked were songs. They were not mind blowing but really nice music. There was lucky boy portrayed on Bipasha basu, or “khuda jaane” on doe eyed deepika padukone. Then there was title track, a nice remix of old and new song “bacchna eye hasnoon” the old was all time favorite (sung by none other that the versatile singer and my all time fave, Kishore Kumar)but this new remix was good too. Not a remix actually, only the music and first CH or paragraph that is repeated, was used, the remaining was entirely new…(of what was remaining)
The best song of the lot was however called aahista aahista sung by Shreya ghoshal and lucky Ali. The music was actually good, with my fave instrument guitar used. while lucky ali’s voice compliments the high pitch required for the song, the best part I found was the double voice of Shreya ghoshal, one a very low voice and another high pitched, that gave the song its flavor…the mingling of two voices, that meanwhile one singer stops singing, the other starts…that created a fantastic continuity in the song…The another factor here was the stanzas…both the singers are actually singing two different songs….if you notice it…while the female voice is saying one thing, the male voice is saying something else, not continuously that we find confusion but rapidly one after each other so that we keep a track and the effect is real nice mixture…using “confusion” will just negate whatever I am trying to say.
The second stanza starts with piano rapidly playing to the heartbeats used in the songs right from the start. And the “ohoho…” sung effortlessly by Lucky ali, surely made this song repeat a million times in the office VLC media player or the Sony mp3 that I hear in the commuting time. This song simply makes me want to sing karaoke…But just imagine the terror in bus or office, and its not the first time that it has happened.

One such pandu

Our bike was halted due to heavy traffic on the sunday, when we were coming from mumbai after a hearty meal at mom's of belated makarsankranti.The next turn would be ours. I was sitting akwardly on the bike ,juggling with heavy bag of maa's goodies like gulpoli and gajar halwa.there he was standing in that sultry sun instructing the people with his hands when and how to go .a bit irrate with traffic and sun maybe.he asked for a pan from the roadside vendor and voila ...promptly paid him for that:) I smiled at my self...Wow, thats good...this is one person who must be earning a pittance and still wanted to buy the pan for himself by his money. I always thought that even in police force (who I feel are the most abused and poor lot. who will resort to corruption then? mostly those who have just no option, if u cant feed the family how can you think of wrong and right? afterall when a person if acutely hungry, will he think that robbing is bad?) the traffic police are poorer lot with lesser salary,bad work conditionslike continious kaukau of the vehicles and standing and instructing the vehicles even in nastiest rains.and still they go on.It was one such pandu that I saw. who could have had a freebee but still paid for his own paan

Of bread and cakes..

My first memory of bread comes from the aroma of freshly baked gutli pav or our very own desi “French loaf” on lazy Sunday morning smeared with butter and stuffed with cheese made the breakfast for us children at least twice a month and necessarily on a Sunday as that was the time essentially when “dada” or our father used to be there at home. The hard crunch from the freshly baked pav, the saltiness of butter and creamy divine texture of cheese would surely put most of the other breakfasts to shame, even my personal staple “idli sambhar”
Later on came across dinner rolls fresh and warm from the oven, a bit sweet, which never failed to give pleasure or the real sweet toasted “bun bread’ with butter.
Somehow the same relationship I never shared with cakes, brother of bread. Though with a few siblings of cake family I have good relationship till now. A “mawa” cake from a particular parsi bakery in Mumbai or walnut cake. But I essentially hated all the oversweet, frilly cream fraiche cakes and pastries. Too good to look at but somehow I always felt that the real cake got lost in those frills. Again there are two exceptions here a) brownie b) any icing having dark choc in it.
But not too much cream pls. it gives me hives
People never cease to look at me in puzzlement when I tell that I don’t want a piece of cake. The main reason is that I like cake and not cream, so a cake which doesnot have cream will surely appeal me. Laden with fruits and nuts, just the right amount of sweetness brownish crust and semi moist inside, a bite that will surely make you to want more. Those are my preferences pls JJ

All time weakness CHEESE

CHEESE, the name itself evokes many sentiments for me; from the “sada” Britannia processed cheese that was stocked in abundance at my mother’s place to the exotic blue cheese that I got to sample once when I had been to “the resort” for one of my project picnics. I have tried (successfully) to make rock hard “chakka” (extracting all water from curds) already seasoned with caraway seeds (ajwain) finely chopped bits of onion and garlic, I used the end result to spread on the bread and the result was delicious.
Recently I am almost every time hooked on to “discovery travel and living”, especially to their shows showing traveling and the especially those showing foods famous in a particular region. It is from here that I got first idea about “tagine” and viewing real what I had read like “bacon rashers”.
I was delighted hence, when they aired the show “say cheese”. Unable to see the first 2 to 3 episodes, I have become daily viewer of the same. Once I got to know about MUNSTER cheese. As in how is it made to the way it is savoured. I did have idea about cheddar, mozeralla (I love pizzas), and the 4 famous cheeses of France (camembert, brie, rockfort and emmental or stilton of England, after reading a lot, but something visual was altogether amazing.I almost felt that I am with the presenter, savouring the aroma and pleasure of cheese tasting. After the show I was like, “god if there would be one thing that I would ask, it would be to check all these cheeses out”. And this added to my already growing list of “to dos” I guess few people can resist melted cheese between two slices of humble bread. And one thing is for sure. I am NOT one of them

Of olives etc.

When I had told my better half on his onsite visit to US of A to get a packet of olives, little did I know that this one enthusiastic person will get not one but 3 bottles of olives. The list including sun dried tomatoes (sure delicacy with my fav, cheese). I wondered what to do with them. There were non pitted (the seeds were still in) kalamata (green fleshy olives) olives and pitted nicose or black olives. Plus a bonus of olives stuffed with garlic.
They staved my evening hunger after office and before dinner, 3 olives and I would feel that I would live to cook. They added salty and buttery pleasure (all olives are put in brine/salt water mixture to preserve them) to my sandwiches along with melting cheese (one thing I need to have always, though I fight with that a lot), or at times added tingling softness in instant noodles (yes I added them everywhere).
What I liked (after kalamata olives) was stuffed olives concept. Though I tasted ones with garlic, I have read about those stuffed to gills with pimentos (allspice, something akin to pepper).
Yes it depends. The first taste of olive is not that great, very much like first taste of trifala in curry, though I think olives are better. It gets better as much as you taste them. I got to taste them whole in one of pasta combos that my French classes friends had ordered once in a restaurant. Though my friends never dared to taste them, having read about them, I put in my mouth the first olive, and I liked it (having liked salty chips and pickles all my life) but it was the buttery fleshy texture that never left my tongue and made me want for more and more.
An olive adds elegance to a pizza calling it gourmet, it adds taste to a sub and above evokes different from the ordinary taste on your tongue, making you want for more and more

When earthquake leave trails

2008 ended with a bang. Terrorist attacks at places where we never thought anything cruel would take place. the places which were considered as icons of mumbai to the foreigners when they thought of Mumbai.
The after effects and counter allegations etc were seen and are still with the recent probability being war. But people are already forgetting. Is forgetting just a kind of pain forgetting, thinking that if we don’t feel it, it will go away. The care and hatred were just short lived and people went back to their business in a zombie like state, just so unfeeling. But do we have a choice???with perkier statements that “we can change the world…” a teenager statement too much idealism. But check out the practicality. Who has time? We all go blah blah and blah…blame the government, corrupt people etc. but what are we doing to change it? Are we voting? Are we educating or selves? Are we more alert before?
These and such questions boiled in my mind…but what say??? 2009 started with a bang, the collapse of IT giant called “satyam” one of the biggest financial scams. I won’t comment here anything. Firstly I am a layman in all technicalities and a novice in IT. But yes, I would like to say something. That I stopped backstabbing my company. I found that my company is still good enough, paying me for what I asked for and for not loosing me gave me a toy called promotion. But honestly I stopped backstabbing my company since compared to all others it is still in better shape.
What did I learn fom all all this? Well mostly that…when you can’t help about some things…just sweat it out and just think what will happen the maximum. If you have a backup plan you will surely survive.” (usually I guess) :)
This sounds really very insensitive for me too. But what more can I say? after the blasts (continiously) and attacks and riots. My self has become like" ok now where next " kind. It hurts but after a while we all suffer pesticide paradox (when pests get used to side)................The craving for normalcy continues.