Mumbai
Dear readers, the guest post by Ashvini Ranjan was much acclaimed. Here are a few of the many comments on FC 256:
M R Karthik says: “Wonderfully written article by Ashvini sir and a stark reminder to many of us middle-aged folks to enjoy life which is a one time opportunity!! Hats off to his bravados post the age of 60 especially learning flying...true determination!! Happy 80th to you sir and here's to many more!! A century beckons!!”
Lakshmi Raman says: “I'm quite amazed by all that Ashwin has attempted after crossing 60. Wonderful to read about it and his adventure in senior years. Keep going Ashwin. Life cannot be lived just being frightened of anything and everything. Even in the matter of age, gender plays a part. Women are reminded more about their age than men. I remember when I was 33 and in Chennai, talking to someone and being told, ‘Oh, now you've had children, what else is there left? All done!’ said in the sense of my life purpose being over. This happened more than once! Statements like these angered me. Like Ashwin, I think I did a lot more after 60 including travel, attempting new types of assignments, signing up for courses, learning to work online and so on. Although my body does remind me now and then of my age 74 (through aches, twinges of pain and a reluctance to get out of bed in the mornings), overall I'm having such a wonderful time. And age giving me the privilege of speaking my mind without any terrible consequences! I want to meet my end with my boots on.”
Tarun Kunzru says: “Thank you, Ashvin... Truly uplifting! The song by Brian Adams, ‘18 till I die’, is the spirit we must all imbibe. Always looking forward and doing/experiencing new things. Old people dwell on the past but the young talk about the future. Keeping fit is key!”
💬 Banter from Bandra
Yes, it is 5 am on the 12th of July, and I'm struggling to figure what am I going to write after having overcome the urge to skip posting FC this Sunday. I imagined my readers egging me on to write something and so here I am writing that something and yet bracing myself for some egg on my face, which means appearing ridiculous or foolish because of my actions.
The phrase with egg on one’s face is an American idiom, though the origins are murky. One possible source goes back to popular theatre during the 1800s and early 1900s. Sub-par actors would often be pelted with rotten vegetables and eggs, and therefore, end up with egg on their faces. Another possible origin stems from the farmyard. Farm dogs sometimes develop a taste for eggs, and in order to find which dog is the perpetrator, a farmer will look for the egg on the cur’s face, which is a sure sign of guilt.
Dear Readers, life has been hectic this week. On the 6th of July, I developed a mental block and could not think of a topic to write on. The block persisted on the 7th too.
On the 8th, we flew to Trivandrum to wish Cdr Ravindranath, my wife's uncle & a navy veteran, on his 90th birthday. Just like Ashvin, the uncle too dismissed oohs and ahhs by saying age is just a number.
There are some who think age is a 'number', meaning, it has a numbing effect. But the Cdr, who is always in his element, enjoyed cutting a ship-shaped cake surrounded by his siblings, his children and grandchildren. Apt to say, he had the cake and ate it too.
On the 9th of July, we attended the auspicious ceremonies invoking the blessings of the Gods on him. After partaking a brunch, we headed straight to the airport and were back home by evening. Travel fatigue overpowered my resolve to begin to write something meaningful for FC due on the 13th of July.
The most part of the morning of 10th July was spent in professional duties, which involved assisting clients in completing the sale of their apartments.
Many of my Indian readers will agree that the humid, poorly lit, crowded, and chaotic conditions of the Sub-Registrar's office in any part of our country can be very depressing. Not because of the environs but more by the systemic inefficiencies which makes one wonder why, in these days of technological advancements, the machinery moves like a juggernaut (despite unofficial fiscal incentives with which people reluctantly part with a curse) to be done with the formalities and exit the incorrigible and regressive manifestations. We come out with a sigh of relief but depressed by the attitude of indifference of the system, which seems to do you a favour, albeit reluctantly, and not oblige a duty owed to its people.
The rest of the afternoon of 10th was spent on two online board meetings of 90 minutes each, and by the end of it all, l felt spent. My wife reminded me that I needed to pack for our sojourn to Mumbai, the following morning. I complied. We were excited at the pleasant prospect of being with our daughter on her birthday.
On the morning of 11th July I woke up at 4.30 am to make filter coffee, got ready by 6 am and headed to the airport, 40 km away from home. On board the Air India flight, we were served breakfast, which you have to pay for on other airlines. The food that you get as part of In-flight services does not belie your expectations, but you dig in nevertheless and prove to yourself that you can be a compulsive eater if push comes to a shove.
Mumbai does not disappoint. It has been the same hot and humid city in which we lived for more than two decades. It is not the same as it was in the 90s when traffic was less, compared to now, and that left some room for lane discipline. Burgeoning traffic blurred those lines and the feeling of entitlement has brought in some aggression too. I tell myself, it is still not half as bad as Bengaluru where traffic has redefined the meanings of slow motion and quick temper, for the worse of course.
Joggers Park on the seafront is a welcome release from the jig-jag (an improvised pronunciation of zigzag) that one does on the roads. Pavements in Bandra are tiled and fairly pedestrian friendly unlike Bengaluru where the pavements warn you of orthopaedic consequences or where they are less menacing, they become bike friendly.
Joggers Park was originally a dumping ground that was transformed thanks to the efforts of Oliver Andrade, a local hockey coach, who envisioned the space as a recreational area. He enlisted the help of film stars Sunil Dutt and Dilip Kumar, along with local builders, to raise funds and oversee the park's construction. The park was inaugurated on May 27, 1990, and has since become a destination for fitness enthusiasts and those seeking a tranquil escape in the city.
Park talk anywhere is replete with a variety of snippets of conversation that you pick up as you walk past people. Politics is of course much discussed but in Joggers Park, stock market and real estate are the popular themes. Unsolicited advice on investments can be had if you trail those walkers, but discretion is strongly advised if you are tempted to walk the talk. Having been there many times, I can see that joggers are outnumbered by walkers.
Breakfast at Boojee Cafe in Bandra is a must after a jog or walk. The avocado bowl is to die for. In fact, it is the back-end incentive for a walk/jog in the park. I suspect Boojee is a derivative of the French word ‘bougie’ and in a positive way ‘bougie’ describes someone who is middle class and has good taste.
Had lunch at an eatery in Kala Ghoda which, in English, means black horse. There's indeed a sculpture of a black horse.
The place is renowned for the Kala Ghoda festival. Learn more about it 🔗here.
It's raining, as it does each year on my daughter’s birthday. Today, it might be representative of ‘saving for a rainy day’, like when one resorts to some banter instead of a post that qualifies for Filter Coffee 😊
Sorry my dear readers for this doze of instant coffee.
Now to end in a lighter vein:
Q: Who is the fastest runner of all time?
A: Adam, because he came first in the human race.
Q: Why can't you let a jogger be a potential juror?
A: Because you'll have a runaway jury.
Dear readers, I'm back home on the 13th, when most of you might have read this banter. Feel free to banter back. Take care and be safe. Until next week, Ciao!
Bandra has lot of fond memories. Our family owned Neptune cinema opp. Bandra station and New talkies on Hill Road next to the Bandra post office. Linking Road was my favourite haunt. Gazebo restaurant owned by Sehgal’s kings shoes. Bada Saab tailors owners were dear friends.
My uncles home was at Marina Apartments next to Bai Avabai Petite girls school, other occupants were Raj Khosla Tahir Hussain (Aamir khans father, Amir still lives there).
Eating frankie rolls, chaat and Chinese food on pushcarts by the roadside. Thanks Pras for reviving old memories.
I enjoyed this 'this and that' FC of yours today. Got to it late morning as I did yoga as usual in the early morning, had tea and then, unusually, went back to bed and slept till 11 am. And I have not had a hectic week. So, I can well understand your fatigue after being on the lam for almost the whole of the week.
From what you shared, a fitness routine nowadays seems to be a mix of fitness work (walk in the park, gym), business talk and catching up with friends and breakfast out. A far cry from the akharas and workouts of older times. But definitely more interesting