The Fourth Seat

This is a silence that I have known All along, all my life It is the silence of the midnight Which welcomes me as I walk into it There is a song that plays in my head Each time I walk down the farm road That's the song I hear playing faraway, In a rickshaw going home The dog barks at me and then gets bored Wags his tail but I have no food I am as hungry as him in this night long and cold But I walk along and it is quiet again I don't need light in this darkness In the empty space, disputed between the worker and the thief I walk the trail oft-beaten Feline Dost In my first year of college, I would walk down on Deonar Farm Road, from the library in the main campus to my PG accommodation located about 9 minutes away. This was written after one such lonely walk, last winter. 

Has something ever slipped out of your hands? And fallen into an abyss, far beyond your reach. A careless grip or a strong pull, gravity..or something else which made it slip away. More forces exist in this world than the ones proven by science. Forces that require imagination or is it empathy that we are talking about here.  One makes a desperate attempt to break the fall, to snatch it before it becomes a part of the unknown. But that depends on your reflex. Re-flex. But is reflex the only appropriate response? Remember, the forces at work are not only physical. The cognitive limitations of our mind will prevent us from understanding the forces at work.  What are they, anyway? One can never really know.  What does one know then? The seething anger expressed by the cuss word that escapes one's lips as the forces act, slowly, closing in, snatching it away from you. And all that you sometimes end up doing is swear aloud.  But anger is not what remains...

Every now and then, it is beneficial to pause and look back. Especially at the end of the first year of a two year master's program. Almost exactly a year ago, I wrote this post describing my first impressions of TISS. That post received a lot of positive reactions and also some negative ones, the comments, as is the norm nowadays indicate the furore that it caused. In retrospect, my hunch about TISS was right. It is indeed about re imagining futures. Photo Courtesy:  TISS HRM & LR Forum  A year later, I find myself sitting here typing on my laptop (I managed to replace the old one), while a gentle breeze blows outside my window, swaying the old palms in the middle of the night in the Friendship Park that I call home. A strong cup of filter coffee, courtesy of in the inhouse master Barista Ranjit  is sitting tall. From living on my own, in a home away from my home, studying odd hours, working in teams, having discussions over chai and at times, perfecting the ...

Frederick William Stevens lies buried under a nondescript gravestone in the Sewri Christian Cemetery. Among the many notable individuals who lay here, this man's contribution to the city of Bombay is far more noticeable than anyone else. For, F.W. Stevens was the architect of many of the more prominent buildings of Bombay. Years ago, when we started the Exploring Fort walk , we would begin with an interesting story of the Mulji Jetha fountain on Mint Road. Early participants, I remember, were quite puzzled by my excitement of telling the story of a small rundown fountain, with a dome topped by a young boy reading a book. The source of my fascination was the fact that it was designed by Stevens. The same architect who gave us the Victoria Terminus or the CSMT - the current headquarters of the Central Railway and one of the two UNESCO World Heritage Sites in the city. Notice the different types of headgears denoted in the panel A walk around this magnificent buil...

Our train rumbles on the bridge over Vasai creek as the sun begins to rise in the east. When I look to the west, a kilometer away, I see a tower in ruins, rising sharply above the coconut palm swaying by the shore. That is my first glimpse of the Fort. Outside the Vasai Road railway station, we hire an autorickshaw for the 10 km ride to the ruins of what was once the jewel in the crown of the Portuguese. Citadel Entrance: Photo by Abhay Singh Vasai an idyllic suburb with a rich past is fast changing. As our rickshaw zooms across wide roads, the construction activity underway is most noticeable. Under the influence of the Urban sprawl of Mumbai, Vasai-Virar region emerged as a major low-cost housing hub in the last two decades. However, the region is still rurban. The road narrows, colourful small cottages, community ponds start to appear as we cross Papdi where at the Our Lady of Grace Cathedral, the Sunday mass is underway. The predominant Christian character of the ...

"Where do you live in Chembur?" "Panjrapole" "Err, where is that?"  "You know, where the Freeway begins?"  "Ah that. I never knew" (Excerpt from many conversations I have had with friends who are residents of Chembur) Last year in June, I took up admission for an MA program at the Tata Institute of Social Sciences, Deonar. It made sense to move into a house closer to college. So I chose to live on Din Quarry Road, in Panjrapole, a seven minute walk to the old campus. But I live at the foothills, and I take a detour while the road continues to climb right to the top, going all the way above the tunnel of the Freeway. Last evening, I skipped my detour and walked up the slope, as high as the road would take me.  Panjrapole, which loosely translated means an enclosed yard, typically built to care for cattle, birds, and other small animals can be found all over India. The Bombay Panjrapole at Bhuleshwar was established in 19...