Kitty Kitty

This little kitty went, Meoow Meoow Meoowwwww!! Did she mean "Fish or Some love"?? Her eyes like peas and mind blue blue.... :( She looked at me and purred no clue. Asked her, Kitty!! you want some Cheese?? She said "No it makes me Sneeze" :( I comforted her in my palm and jingled my keys, On that she got up and twinkled her Peas. Picked her Paw and purred with awe... Said " Niki I wanted No fish or Any cheese, All I wanted were your HAPPY KEYS" :)

Bappa aala :)

आहे तसा तो कलेचा गुरु!! पण असतो सतत माझ्या बाजू, जरी मी त्याच्यावर एरवी लक्ष नाही दिले, अडचणीत त्याने मला नेहेमी सावरले!! कारण आहे त्याची मी लाडकी. कधी कधी मीच त्याला विसरते, पण दुखाच्या वेळी मी बघते माझी बाजू, आणि हा असतो चिल मारत माझ्या बाजू, विचारतो "आज तुला मोदक हवा की काजू" घेतो माझी काळजी वेळो वेळी पण आज आहे माझी पाळी. लाडात येऊन बोलले त्याला, " जाणार नाही दुकानात ,मीच कोरणार तुला प्रेमाने आणि तुझ्याच दिलेल्या कलेने" देणार सुट्टी तुला पाच दिवसाची समोर ठेवीन, बाजूला नाही. आहे रोज तुला मोदक आणि जलेबी, सांगीन सगळ्यांना घ्याला अशी काळजी तुझी, होऊन जाशील छान गुटगुटीत!! आहे तुला पाच दिवसाची सुट्टी, परत ये माझ्या बाजूशी, आणि सोडव माझ्या अडचणी , कारण आहे मी तुझी लाडकी !! :)

Madam Maida....

Pav kilo maida dena! Drawer opens... Small plastic bags comes out ... Scoop in Maida, in to the plastic, on the weighing machine. Seal! And in your hand to take home.. I could toss it like a ball and feel it like some jelly in my hand... Pay barely some amount for it. This the Simpler era .... Same scene 2012 Pav kilo maida dena Direct one packet thrown at the counter.

"Madam Maida" Rs.46

Gossip Or Story

People often tell me "nikita don't you think you let many know about your life. I say "That's how it is for me" The worst can be when you fear letting out your own story. What I can do to myself is too much than what others can do to me. If you can make your mind beautiful you can ignore other peoples black thoughts towards you. but f your mind itself is weak, and somebody else fuels it a little bit it is enough to destroy you. We cannot control the intentions of all the people around us but we can control what happens within us ,that we can make it the way we want it. Even though you can't totally control what intentions people have for you ,you can nurture their intentions to certain extent. When millions of people love you, you are anyways controlling their emotions. A story doesn’t begin with exposition. It doesn’t start when you see the title on the screen or when the main character arrives on the scene. A story begins with conflict. Until Aseem trivedi doesn't go behind bars for his cartoons or Raj Thackrey doesn't speak up what we only thought off, you don’t have a tale worth telling. It might entertaining or interesting, but it’s not a story.

It all comes down to a moment. When we know what is happening in Shahrukhs house and bin ladens heart. That’s when a story really begins — when things start to get uncomfortable. Everything else is just setup. It starts to get interesting — when your tiny tale gets messed up by a larger story. And the same is true for life. I would not have anything to give to my readers if my life was perfect. I would be working earning and sleeping well. Who wants to know this? As a writer I open my book to everyone because I know many relate to it but don't speak it out. Everybody watches a movies, reads a book, listen to song and say "This is so my story" Yes!! It is. There is always someone there who has gone through pain and agony as you did. If they wouldn't have written or sung when they felt the heart break, Success fail or be penny less we would have missed out on the best writers, musicians and travellers. Imagine if Bob marley would have wept in his room for the pain he went through in love and not come out and sing strong about his feelings. Hence I say it that's how it is for me. My life's going to be a open book from now. And I play character in my own story which I want to let out. And I write effortlessly when I let my thought come from the loving and vulnerable space of my own heart. [Theres a vast difference between reading ones personal life as gossip or a story] ")

Heart of Clay!!

I don’t know where I belong, where I get love, It Is my home. I like the Nomad’s life that I have tasted because of my work The love & Food I get on my Travels has made me feel like I make a home wherever I go. I am in LOVE and Love is writing words in the air that I breathe when I travel. I love the Sun and Sand which reflect My Thoughts & Words. I Feel like a clay, being reshaped every day, until I'll be at last what I am destined to be. I am a Traveller in Time. My Destiny is known. -Nikita :)

Yellow Door!!

In a garden solitude of my little town Dombivli there rose a small mud house, as yet but trifle disfigured with mud and wooden windows shaken down to the mosaic floor, in the middle of which ran a little Piece of plastic rattling around making the crinkling noise with "have a nice day" written on it. I smile at it and open this old gate which took me to the yellow door after which I stepped into a very simple era.

Where I was greeted with a friendly guru who wore a loose kurta and Served water to me in a "Tambya ani Pela" (a small pot and a glass) Where was the tray? I quench my thirst and look around. In their earthen pot I see two pretty pink flowers welcoming me. Dressed aptly for the time, My skin had natural fragrance of lavender, as I walked around my payal set to the tunes of the plastic crackling, wind blowing and my heart beating. I smile at this old mirror put up on the wall and check if my bindi hadn't lost it way from the centre of my fore head. I was 20 minutes early at the Yellow Door the portal to Shashtriya sangeet (classical music) And I utilized the time to appreciate how a heart and mind must feel in the simpler era. Era where digital music is not known, Still a gramophone and radio entertains you and a Tambora (sitar) and Peti(harmonium) is used to tune your voice along with several birds who sat on the trees outside muktangan. I peeped outside the window, pushing a broken rusted umbrella aside and I see "Peace" for the first time in my own city. I then realised that faking a smile can't fool your brain that you are happy. My mind had to see Muktangan and get me a real smile amidst the pain I am in. I Turn to look at my guru and he walked me in the room where I first saw "Aapla Ladka Ganpati" I didn't shut my eyes and pray to him but just looked at him with a smile. All I knew since childhood is the "Ganpati haa Kalecha guru aahey" I don't look at him for prayers just a little hope that I get what I am looking for in Muktangan. And I sit with my guru and I taste the First note of Peace.

When he Felt me for the first time!!

I felt him when the breeze took away my voice as I sung "Kabira" He said "You are the colour I made when I was in love" I believe that you trusted me last when I said "Love will hurt you no more" There I go again, But isn't it getting the finest out of you? I see Amidst the blare of the storm this slow, melancholy dirge beat itself into your heart. A tear? No.. Loads of tears will make your cheek look shiny. Save for I am with you & you blessed!! Love might depart you But I will Never Everyone has seen me But You will feel me Because you are my Love!! You are my creation Creating love with your words in this unpromising world. He promised me again "I am your love and will always be....." And I see myself standing in front of him, With my shiny cheeks The almighty "My lord Shiva"

Paan Kaheye Saiyaan Hamar!!

Paan khaye saiyaa hamar , like my player was stuck on replay whilst I walked the elderly streets of Aurangabad. An Aurangabadi friend drew me in his BMW a.k.a BB (As his sweet little son would say it) to a paan gully at night, all the shops had varieties of paan to offer. I had a small roll of beetle leaf with lovely stuffing of chunna, supari, gulkand, coconut, fruit preserves and cherry etc the moment it stepped in to the world of my mouth I ran back to the era where chewing paan was a custom of the royalty, where the Queens and Kings had special attendants carrying a box with the ingredients for a good chewing session I felt how it would have been. We drove back home but next day I planned to know more about the lane and the pan served their. I was a little skeptical as that area was born with the birth of Nizam’s so were the chacha’s and topis. I was worried that they may not be able to accept the fact that a woman is clicking pictures and get sleezy comments. So I very timidly stepped into one of the famous shops, Tara Paan Centre and ordered for one Paan and the menu was way green and startling it had Paan from rs.50 to Rs. 3000 I immediately asked him what’s that you put in Teen Hazar walla Paan jiska naam tha honeymoon special “there was a custom to chew supari (areca nut) and Paan (betel leaf) among lovers because of its breath-freshening and relaxant properties,this trend led to honeymoon special Paan. Very timidly Imran chacha told me "woh peheli raat ko pyaar jatane ke liye yeh paan bahut taaqat deta hai" (Isssshhhhhhhh)
As I built the conversation people around became very welcoming affable and respected the fact that I wanted to learn about the Paan more than eating. He offered me 4-5 different Paan’s and I wondered what bill am going to make I told him “chacha I cant eat so many “chinta nako,aap khau sehat ke liya accha hai aur mere taraf se hai” they were still too many and too heavy to be eaten. Slowly I managed to get my camera out and asked him if I could click. He was more than happy to see me with the camera. There came a small man on a big cycle and said “Chahca Humko sardi hui hai zara paan khila do”
. On this chacha made a immediate crack to roll a Paan with sizzling lavang. Every Paan had a better cause than mouth freshener or sweetener. People there actually depend on Paan for medicinal purposes too and also serving paan is a sign of hospitality which I too experienced with warm smiles.
With all the efforts I stood and saw Imtiaz the Paan Man from inside called for me and showed me the mansion of Paan and how they made them to export. The business they ran was not only for the Aurangabad Paan lovers they are spread all over the world and sell their paan in UK US Australia Dubai and turkey etc. The packaging is done in such a way that the pan doesn’t loose its life for next three days at least. Imtiaz was a kind man with red tongue and warm heart. He told me all about the varieties and the love people have for their Paan
“we make Paan for upvaas also with loads of dry fruits and mava” with that he made one for me Ufff!! It was real heavy but I knew if I had that I could go for the whole day without any food.I had my dear fotog friend pratik with me who made this ride even more interesting. As I took a stroll around the shop and pumped my lungs with lovely beetle leaf whiff I came across a Dabba with a very rural Indian feel to it and picked it up as a souvenir. And I acted like I won the title for Miss World when Imtiaz bhai packed 5-6 packets of Paan garnished with fresh rose petals and loads of love and memories for me to take back to Mumbai. This is what I like about my travels more than bags of shopping I have filled my bags of memories

The ones Who Think they "LOVE" cats :)

I thought my love for animals was something that no one would have for any other living being until I met and heard this little yarn of a 73 year old man, Manjar Kaka (Eknath Patil)
My work has let me meet people whom I think I would have never heard of because I don’t follow news, thought I write in a newspaper don’t really read them. There was no woman who would accept him for the way he is with his cats. He lives in a dingy house with
zilch cleanliness, when I asked him the rationale he said “If I keep the house is according to my requirement this would be my house not my cats house” he has an empire of 35 and has taken care of more than 150 cats he at times looses his count too. He spends most of his profits he gets from his English tutoring on his cats and makes it comfortable for them and lives in filth but is content looking at his Meeoow’s Purr to sleep peacefully. I heard his story of how attached he is to his cats, but didn’t have the nerve to ask him the what he does when any of his cats passes away, so I asked a neighbor of his, a young chap of 28 years working as a set designer and is very dear to Manjar kaka. He narrated me this little story. One of Manjar kaka’s most darling cats was Bokya, he laid one of the mornings in front of his house with no purr and the neighbor Mahesh happened to see him and inform kaka. Kaka came running to see him but realized Bokya had already given up serenely. Kaka shed no tear... But a smile, that Bokya has slept in peace. He asked Mahesh to help burry Bokya near by because kaka didn’t have the heart and vigor to do it. On that Mahesh agreed without a hitch and went ahead. They reached a small piece of barren land near Dombivli station 10 mins away from his home and asked Mahesh to start digging. Kaka wrapped Bokya in a fresh silk sheet and laid him in the clean mud. Along with Bokya he put a bottle in which he planted Rs.500 and a small note with something written in it. Mahesh was a little nosy and asked him why he had done that. On that Kaka ignored his question and asked him to do what he was asked to.
Mahesh didn’t bother him for some days but the money and the note in the bottle bothered him a lot so he went and asked Kaka with innocent eyes, on that kaka told him “If in case they take that land for development in future I would want them to take my Rs.500 as a token of understanding and read the note carefully .That message till date gives me tears and shrill when I think of it, it said
“ PUDHCHA GHAAV SAMBHALUN MAZA BOKYA ZOPLA AAHEY”

It’s not what you wear…Its how you Feel

I have been fluky to have friends who have wardrobe full of branded outfits and shoes ecetra, but still know the worth of a 50 rupee top.
To buy a few things we pulled over at a shop and my sweet friend said I ll park myself in the car I don’t want to come inside is because there are people who wear good clothes and look pretty, I feel out of place. On that I instantly realized I felt the most strongest when am around people who are dressed in pretty clothes , shiny bags and make up on. I feel stronger around them even after not wearing anything closely to the price the tag their clothes carry. But I still feel pretty in my shoes is because I FEEL good about myself. What’s the point in wearing a diamond ring but not feeling good. If you can carry a rag with style and comfort you look good. “Beauty is in your mind, Not in your mirror”. When my words are stronger than the person in front even if am in Adha chaddi simple chappals and a bag hanging around me I feel strong because I know my words make more sense than their clothes. Not that smart people don’t wear good clothes, it’s just that one doesn’t have to judge people on the basis of their clothes or money in their wallet, if you doing so you got nothing to worry. The tough is when you have judge them on the basis of their thoughts and words. If someone is smarter in that than you, theres something you got to worry.
That’s why I say its not what you Wear …its how you feel!!

On Behalf of Bappa !!

While I sat at a lovely corner with a my sweet bag Swa urf Swati,I was very happy in my mind with the breeze feeling my cheek, water drops trickling off the coconut tree and playing slide on my scalp. I saw a very painful sight which I tried ignoring but I couldn’t. A sweet family was taking our sweet lord Ganesha to their abode on a handcart and that cart took a jump because of a pot hole which wasn’t seen to them in all the excitement they were in having Ganesha home. I couldn’t gulp the lump in my throat when I saw the Ganesha fallen of the cart on the road because of the ugly pot hole. I lost all the spirit of festive which I had pumped in by seeing crowded markets, beautiful flowers and decoration. People dressed in the most colorful clothes, kids chanting “Morya Morya” when a truck passes by. This is one celebration where I feel safe to walk amongst strangers also because everyone is carrying a smile in their heart and exchange smiles. All these little were killed when I saw this incident and my heart skipped a beat when I saw the broken idol. Aren’t we taking our gods for granted its we the humans who built and mold the idol with lovely colors, glittery dhoti, modak, undir mama and off all we mould a “SMILE” on his face. Have we ever considered the emotion he must be carrying within him when he is watching the plight through the year? I hear boys who get big idols in the trucks and scream Ganpati Baapa Morya and on the other hand tease girls and pass cheesy comments on girls. Am in middle of so many thoughts that I don’t feel like celebrating this time. If I would want to be standing in front of him I would want to give him the love and RESPECT that he today deserves. Today rituals have become more important than gods. This is the period of great unrest, Social change as you could say. Cities are growing, generating wealth and spiritual hunger. I had read this somewhere “oceans have dried up, mountains have crumbled, pole star is shaking, the earth founders, The GODS have perished” Just like you go to a new place for a while and wish to go back to your house because you aren’t treated well at the new place. That’s the way even Ganeshji must be feeling when he comes to us today. We just expect him to kill our sadness but what about the pain that we give him by not respecting the nature. If I think of it the root cause is that no one cares for the nature today. All I can see Ganeshji doing today is while we sing, dance and pray in front of him he must be weeping inside or prolly he has not even come to us.
People usually turn to God when they are empty stomach but with me I turned my back when I was empty stomach and promised to work hard for myself and earn the name and respect. But still I don’t insolence him as am an nonbeliever. But I feel am a better person being agnostic since I don’t expect anything from him and don’t treat him well once in a blue moon.
We ask for so much from him but have we ever thought what he must be expecting from us and do we do a little to give what he expects from us?

If one really loves him, then take care of mother earth by taking little things like cleanliness, making people around you aware about not throwing Kachra on roads and off the windows on the track. It hurts me when I see people spitting on roads while they are carrying the Ganpati, it hurts when I see people throwing plastic bags of flowers and sweet wrapper,. Did he ask you to do this? I can see Ganesha pinching his nose while he crosses open bins and we proudly sing to him at that point expecting him to be fine. We clean houses for him but make him walk through pot holes and garbage bins why cant all be responsible and spread a word of cleanliness. This holds no offense to anyone, if you feel you are not of the ones who do this, there are many who do it, don’t ignore when you see some ignorant person next time. And let’s hope Ganesha will be received in a better way next year.
He doesn’t need loud music or expensive decorations all he needs is that you worship and keep him in your heart always and he will kill your agony. Treating him well for one day and not caring for him rest of the year is not what he wants you to do. I speak on this festival specifically coz I don’t believe in any religion other than ART hence I say “ART IS MY RELIGION”. As a kid i have always heard of him as"KALECHA GURU” (GOD OF ART). Its coz of this is have a corner for him. And if through him I can spread a word for making this place a better place to live I ll take his help instead of chanting “time being” prayers to him for selfish reasons.

Day 1

There’s nervousness, confusion and anxiety but of all, there’s the vigor that is driving us towards what we have wheeled till here for our documentary. We started from Mumbai for Goa with the same feelings we are still carrying in our socks right now. We hit the highway and our boys B boy RJV and B boy Ridi’q were captured breaking on the rough patch off the highway with no music. They tuned with their own breathe beat and grooved within themselves. Their bruises on their palms explain me the love for breaking. We settle ourselves and head towards Kolhapur. I appreciate B boy RJV for the efforts he is putting in with all the breaking and the driving he has done till Goa. We had our own little stress busters at our halts with chaukidar Dalvi
who posed for us a with his old rusted fun and showed off his bullets. DJ Amul is a part of our gig he is an absolute comic relief who sleeps with RJV’s not so branded shades called Ray Wan. He had them on even while he asked for chai at 8pm. Prathamesh a.k.a Paddu is a tiny thing carrying the video camera and also our camera man who pronounces Bhoot as Boot and keeps reminding Vicky a.k.a Ridi’q he has a family at home for respectful reason (Reasons are quiet critical cant be disclosed ). We halt at a very neat and huge petrol pump at Nippani for a leak but instead our boys jump out of their skins when they see the location behind the pump.
And start breaking. RJV had a little crash and hurt his back but he still continued with the routine and with the driving. Ridi’q is pumped
with energy and is a boost to RJV. We shoot at the pump and bag a good footage and Amul gets busy shooting goats in the farms and claims that NOW he can work with the discovery channel.

as we rolled a little ahead we witnessed 66-feet Chinmaya Ganadhish idol in Kolhapur which considered to be the tallest Ganesha

idol in the world. The idol sits on 24-feet Dhyana Nilayam (raised platform). Thus the statue is 90 feet from the ground level. With this beauty in the foreground
we got to see a rainbow which was a blessing for the art and message these boys were carrying their heart.
Today we get serious with the sketch we have for the movie and meeting up with the Breakers in Goa and hearing their side of story of being the only breakers in the Town. Few breakers from the town who are going to rally us round and bag some information on the breaking scenario in Goa. They are small in number, would get to hear their plans to grow and their contribution to the breaking planet to spread breaking. Also our boys would break a little with them. This is what we will be stitching in today and tomorrows tapes and rolls hopefully some good surprises fall on the tape.

Breaking Spree

A bruise is the beauty of this dance form and music is the language they speak. B-boying was originated as a dance form in 1970’s and is one of the four elements in hip hop culture. Rajiv Shirodkar a.k.a B boy Rjv and Vicky Shriyan a.k.a B boy Ridi’q have been breaking for 3-4years and have performed on all sized platforms. In their journey of breaking they have faced injuries, physically and mentally which have pulled them back and step out of this. But they never gave up and are still breaking with all the injuries they have carved on them. If you have to be a successful artist in India one has to be tolerant and dedicated to his or her art. Their love and dedication for this art is making them take a step ahead and educate people about the real value of Breaking, as any form of art can’t endure on Claps alone, it needs heavy support to grow. B- Boys or Break Boys don’t get the respect and the support they deserve. To bag all that is lost in this Art form these boys are the first ones take the initiative to a document life of a B boy and B girl across India. This is the kind of a chronicle which is not yet documented in India and their scheme behind documenting this tale is to preserve and promote this art and prove it to people that this aint a freak show but a pure form of art. Mumbai has always been first in doing a lot of things which have gone unnoticed otherwise. Similarly this form of dance was introduced to India by bunch of breakers from Mumbai and now Rjv and Ridi’q are the mumbaikars who are not just sticking to the realm of Mumbai to document this movie in spite of all the financial constraints and no support. They are travelling to Goa, Bangalore and Mumbai and covering the best breaking crews in these cities and they would battle with them in the clubs and streets and will document the story behind them and their struggle to be a B Boy today in India. This documentary will be released in Mumbai’s entertainment centres, big screens and colleges. And if finances allow they will be screening it in Goa and Bangalore. These boys are battling this journey by making their own pockets empty and with help of friends and relatives. None of the sponsors have poured in yet for such an idea which is not sketched by anyone in India, but they are still confident of their idea and are stepping in the pool of fight for the survival of this art to keep it alive.

When i Fell in love!!

The radiance of a woman is always captured by an eye who adores art, rest use it. I have been inspired to write and click coz lot of beautiful subjects that have hit my heart in my journey, woman being one of them. But this time it was unusual.
I have his gallant body in my memory ever since I remember but this time it was new. My heart clouted when I heard him. Beauty and grace has always been an insight for an artist what else could I ask for. I saw him pass by me a lot of times and every time I noticed one new tone on him which gave me a smile. He made every one around him look good. History is written from his back but never heard from a heart. My heart spoke for him every time I saw him. The beauty here am talking of is a horse. I learnt every side of his I know him as a obedient partner, lover and a man with gallant heart. The world today has gone plastic, its been long that any human has touched my heart how much a horse did.
I have been to this place ever since I remember incidents and recognize people. But this same old place was new to me, I spoke to everything around and wanted to know more. This new place is a small plateau near Mumbai called Matheran though close to the city it still smells ancient and feels Indian. There’s mud all over but no cars or bikes to ruffle it, only the trot or a gallop of a horse disturbs the red mud. My heart shrunk when I saw them loaded with saddles, accessories, harnesses, loads and people who sit on it with no honor. Horses served only one person TRANSPORTATION. Are they worth that? They are warriors know how to fight and ride themselves free and chase the shadow of an eagle. The long tail which helps him swatter the flies and keep his bottom warm in the cold. The style he rests
in with grace and peace. My love for a horse will never die. When I saw him race with the others I knew he was the one who would fight the odds and come ahead and bring pride and honor to his master. As I say with honor comes responsibility and this horse, Magican took care of his master how much he did of himself. I went I had a word with his master and ran my hands over Magicans sturdy, colossal body and realized for the first time even horses sweat but I still continued to run my hand over his body while he swayed his tails and his sweat remained on my palms.
How much a two legged creature is strange? Few people treat them just as means of income, transportation and their masters. What they don’t realize is they are the masters because you have trapped the horse in all possible ways let him off the saddle and other traps, let him gratis and then lets see who rides whom. My only yearning when I grow up I would want a horse who would live the way he wants to and he would be my master for sure I know he is more intelligent matured and has a better heart than what any human has. He is the man with steel body but a supple heart and steadfast to the ones whom he loves till he gets love and respect from them. His master told me a charming little tale about magicans life. He is in a dedicated relationship with a horse called pasta
and they have been together for 4 years now. When magican and pasta walk together pasta is always a step behind and looks tiny in front of magican. Whatever they are given is made half and half and shared with love. While pasta sits to sleep magican watches her back by standing all through out the night for her. She was a perfect woman for him and he did all his duties and they live happily even with saddles on them and make everyone happy who ride them.
My love for a horse will never die but expectations from a human will increase.

YETHE KACHRA TAKNYAS MANAI AAHEY!!

Bingo,kurkure,gutka,condom more seen on roads then in the garbage bin or at the vendor. While I have my walk around the city it hurts me to see any person throwing Kachra on the road. The worst part when you tell them not to… they are offended and give a look to you saying do you have the RIGHT to correct m. Bloody its my city I live here and breath here I wan to breath clean and don’t get stuck in rain and blame the poor pavus its damn you throwing plastic around and jamming the sewage and BLA!!!
Hitch lies with our teachings in schools nothings much taught bout keeping our environment clean and how important it is in a long run to dispose the waste at the right place. All we are taught are those few thick lines on cleanliness from those dumb text books and teachers make us repeat after them. With an exception where I saw this kid who travelled after school in the train with his mother . as his mother chattered away to glory with the other ladies this kid quietly ate a packet of little hearts and when he was done very neatly wiped his hands to his hankie and then folded the empty packet neatly and stuffed it into his bag so that he could have gone and thrown it into his residential dustbin and not on the tracks. But to my surprise his mother batted his hand and yelled at him to keep the kachra in the bag and forced him to throw it out and out of fear he followed what his mother said. As individual whatever role we are playing with our surroundings or with people arnd us we can correct them. BUT!! I know you feel a lil scarred of weird to correct unknown people thinking of how they myt react. But feel free to correct BMC has appointed a few heads who dress up in casual and come tapping on your back to burn your 200 rupees from your piggy. One of my dear mates happened to face this and came and informed me about this incident and to his kick he felt bad when he saw me smile while he recited how he was fined rs.200 early morning. The smile was because I always wanted some monitor for Mumbai I don’t mind doing it myself if am given the authority. I don’t know why people come to Mumbai saying it’s the place where dreams come true and kill Mumbai themselves and so do Mumbaikars. And even if I correct someone for littering am spoken ill off WHY?? Why cant you see that its our duty together to keep our city clean. Mumbai has given every entity something why can’t we give Mumbai flowers and fragrance instead of wrappers and stench??No one has to respect anyones authority here ,but indeed respect MUMBAI.

On request my friends identity is gonna b hidden but will narrate in short what happnede with him. As he smoked at dadar station peacefully with a cutting and when the ash reached the bud he threw it down and stifled the bud wid his shoes. With that BMC man came and fined him rupees 200. At that my friend being a typical mumbaikar said “dada shambhar ghya,pavti naka fadu” the Bmc fellow didn’t budge and flashed his ID to prove it that he is really with the BMC and has to answer his superiors. With that my friend very responsibly handed 200 rupees and wud think before littering around. Though I felt bad coz the real kachra makers slip away coz few BMC holders can’t keep monitoring to keep the city clean alone. Its every individual who has to take this responsibility and correct the next person with a smile and ask him or her not to do it but if they still do it you make an effort to pick it up or take away the rags he or she was planning to dump on the road or station and dump it in your bag and then makes its way peacefully in the dustbin you next see : )
This note is for the people who aren’t aware of this so that next time you think of throwing anytype of kachra or spitting or also peeing you may want to rethink and the quiet watchers you are worst than the ones who are doing the crime. So get aware mumbaikars and make Mumbai a better place to live.

this made me really happy coz i felt bad when i carried the din bhar ka kachra in my bag thinking of not littering around but saw 100's around me throwing kachra like someone is goin to suck it to keep the place clean.

The SWEET Aunty : )

I always thought of myself to be bizarre when I spoke to myself while I traveled and walked around. But I didn’t realize when I talk in to me, am not talking gibberish whether am looking good, is my hair ok or my nails done properly. All I do while I travel daily is OBSERVE people around me and what I get to learn and tell others from them. One of the steamy afternoons I was rushing for a shoot in goregaon while I was reaching bandra a very lovable old Punjabi aunty got in the train with a smile on her face. She opened her jhola and removed boxes of sweet. this reminds me of birthdays in school days were we got grabbing’s from our birthday frens as we would wait for him or her to remove the box of sweets from the bag.
The Sweet Aunty was selling chocolates of the brand Cadbury, 5star, munch and éclairs not the ones which are spelled muanch, cabdury ékliars. They were the original ones. She brought me a great smile though she was old and needed money she enjoyed selling sweets and making everyone happy. I bought chocolates worth Rs. 35 from her. but with her got in 2 kids they were siblings one of arnd 7 years and other barely 5 years and the train started moving the elder one started singing at the ugliest voice she could and the younger one very sweetly batted everyone’s hand and asked to drop some money in his glass. Everyone looking at this tiny hands begging managed to give some money when that kid came to me I shouted at him and asked to walk off. With that the lady next to gave me a look sayin “aaj ki ladkiyon ko kya attitude hota hai no manners and blaaa!!” and to prove me even cruel she handed that 5 year old kid a 5 rupee dollar. The Chocolate aunty came to me and gifted me a thank you. She narrated to me that “baby am 62 years old I get in this train everyday to sell my chocolates I never cheat I don’t sell sasta maal coz they spoil your health. But why god is so unfair. I go the truthful way to earn money these beggar kids get in with me and make more money than me(they make more than Rs.2000 a day). People are willing to give 5 rupees to them even when they are not giving them joy or sweetness in return. I give the one thing that makes a 2 year to 80 year old human a smile “CHOCOLATES” still people choose beggars over me”
With that she gave the aunty a look and a smile,who sat and abused me coz I batted that 5 years old kid. This simple thought and experience taught me one thing we are responsible for the dirt around us. STOP GIVING money to the ones who beg even when they are hale and hearty. Once you stop it they cant do anything. encourage people who make an effort to sell and earn money be it a pass holder or a mobile cover if you wan to help …help in the right way DON’T ENCOURAGE THE DIRT ENCOURAGE THE HARD WORKERS.

Chor bazar ki Galli..

If you don’t have an eye for art and tang for the rust do not wander in the alleys of Chor bazaar.
Friday is the day when all the shops drag their shutters down and a mass of people spread there sheets to display and sell the stuff they have got in there bag. You name anything and you will get it. From boxing gloves to skates, furniture to clothes.

As the name Chor bazaar sounds it’s a huge flea market where the things sold are usually stolen. I never went to this place before coz I was very rigid about view on this place as my elders always spoke ill of this place. But indeed it’s a paradise for and artist and antiquarians. I spotted some real weird things even spotted an antique car which was used as a sleeping base for a dog and back rest for some comfort while selling.

You have to be street smart and make a good deal out of your purchase.
My clicks would tell you what a wide range of things are sold in this paradise. After going through a few lanes of junks I had already sketched my dream house where am sure all my furniture was surely gonna be picked from chor bazaar. The wooden chairs, bar tables magical mirror and unusual types of liquor bottles. One bottle that wedged my eye was a bottle fashioned like a khanjar with some lil green tinge. When you walk around you see white caps and black bhurkas, yes this place is dominated and run by the Muslims. That’s why you can smell a lot of mutton in the air and a huge range of food items on every corner and hefty goats walking around.
If you know how to carry your self smartly no one will come your way. If your body language is weak you indeed will be taken for a ride. Do not dare dress up well and go there coz Chor Bazari’s have an eye and can read people real easily and on that basis they would charge a bomb and not bargain. Dress up as shabby as you can and look unclean and smell bad coz if you smell good you are telling the flickers out loud that you have and expensive perfume in your bag. I was expecting to face a lot of odds and ugly remarks but I was surprised with the warm smiles prolly it was the press tag and my clixy which hung arnd my neck and as I said carry a very smart body lingo.
You have people of all range of umar buying stuff from this street. And the set up is really very fascinating you cleanly don’t know what’s gonna be next. If you looking at a story book suddenly you have a neat pair of skates next to it.
It was indeed very exciting to spot Amitab bachchan in Chor bazar
As this was my first time I was just trying to observe people around and not talk too much but couldn't resist on asking one of the chacha’s “chacha aapka margin kitna hota hain. He smiled and he added like he was my yaar for years “full margin hamare hi hai Didi, chori ka toh maal hai” wow that’s what I call business. It was surprising that though they sell chori ka maal they do study what they selling so that they can add a few heavy words while convincing a customer. Like on one of the sheets I saw an amazing range of lenses like and 50 mm 70 mm and a telephoto, the moment he saw clixy in my hand he picked a bag and removed canon 3000 and attached the tele lens and explained a few things and showed how the flash works and also explained the other lenses weren’t for a Digital SLR. I was amazed at the words he used and how confidently he blurted them.
I have been to a lot of flea markets this indeed was the best, better than goa.
The experience was awesome and my notion was cleared about this place.

And a little of green to end with.