WoofMatrimony.com

So many of my blogging and FB friends have dogs that blog. Luci from Thiruvanantapuram, and Bozo from Bandra,Mumbai being the two leading folks.

 Luci recently put up some amazing photos , that looked like formal portraits on her blog and FB. Possibly to celebrate a new Nikon. In something peculiar to the Indian ethos, these photos of Luci reminded me of the formal photos that people put up on matrimonial database sites, that are so popular today.

And naturally , one thought of Bozo .   See Luci below in the upper set of 3 photos and Bozo, in the set below .

I don't have a pet dog, but sometimes, I think I must have been a dog in my last birth.  :-))

(all photos of Luci by Shail Mohan, and those of Bozo by Deepak Amembal)


He was smelling
the smooth shining pages
of WoofMatrimony.com,
inadvertently
hitting "Next"
with his paw,
when he chanced upon
this
homeloving,
beautiful,
sporty,
strong,
wilful,
clever,
royal beauty
with soulful eyes
and amazing spirit.

"Wow"
he said,
"She is on FB
and also has a Dog Blog !"

Whereupon,
he barkmailed her,
their folks got in touch,
and may meet.

He just wonders,
whether
he should present her
with his
favourite blue collar
at the first meeting .....

A Crackling Performance ....

The monsoon in Mumbai is known to put up a grand show when it withdraws, and it did this on a Monday, after a weekend of intolerable heat and sun.

There were clouds, a strange yellowish light pervading the atmosphere, and there were immensely powerful showers of heavy rain, accompanied by uproarious thunder and brilliant lightening. A bit of a lull in the rain, and the thunder and lightening continued, like a tiger growling to itself, unable to reduce the momentum of the last deadly chase.

My friend Magiceye, clicked this amazing capture  the same evening , in Bandra, in Western Mumbai and posted it here..  

(And i saw something there as well ....)

The brilliant lithe gymnast
Monsoona Sparkley,
of the
Mumbai Lightening Group
cracking
her twirling rope
as
she leaps, jumps
and tumbles across
performing
in a flash,
her gymnastic manoevres
in the individual event at the
Sky Olympics....

If photographs were audible,
you might
have heard the clouds
thundering and roaring
in approval.....

Sewri Stars

My blog and FB friend Anuradha Shankar clicked this amazing photograph on a trip to watch flamingos at the Sewri mud-flats on Mumbai's eastern seaboard, a few days ago..

Anuradha blogs at  A Wandering Mind ...

It almost looks like they are practicing some typical Bollywood film dance steps.

Naturally a few of our fussy heroines came to mind. 

Shooting on location
for
"The Disappearing Mangroves"
Katrina Kaif,
Kareena Kapoor,
and Priyanka Chopra,
who have just flown in
from the west
only for this schedule,
practicing
their item number steps.....

And that is Kareena
doing
her stubborn
stick in the mud act,
because
her costume
has lesser streaks of pink.....

What you don't see
is a cast of
a thousand extras,
fluttering around ,
pecking their way amidst
the dirt,
studded with
plastics,
metal,
and industrial sludge.

The producers provide
a watery landscape for the stars,
not because
that's how
the land  should be,
but this way,
the three can check their make-up
in the reflections,
every now and then....

The HimHer Code

Municipal elections today in Mumbai. My blog and FB friend Slogan Murugan , who chronicles everything "Mumbai"  has posted amazing captures on his blog , Mumbai Paused .

Among many photos, this one on Acharya Donde Marg,  showing the presence of "law and order"  next to some signs, which inadvertently  make a complete hash of the combination of the universal icons for depicting male and female. 

The make shift government-issue-chair-palanquin  actually meant for the old and handicapped citizens, actually brought to mind  the second photo below(sourced from Google) ; a son carrying his aged mother to the voting booth .

One an action from the head, and the other , from the heart.


(first photo by slogan murugan)

There is her
and there is him,
and there's the Law..

He and she slog
to work
through surging crowds,
asphyxiating train rush
and
return home
to worry about
children and
life again
the next day.

Sometimes,
she is so bent
with age,
the grounds come up
to meet her
when she stands;
so he carries her,
his special responsibility,
to cast her vote.

Somewhere,
on a fancy road paved
with tiles of the future
the Powers-that-be
make a hash of "him" and "her", 
cursed with
the lack of clarity.
 
Him and Her,
they walk,
shuffling, supported and carried
right over the sign,
while those with handicapped minds,
sit, 
thinking
maybe,
they also serve
who only sit and wait ?

Why this Zugmayeri Di ?

Sometimes the most ordinary thing impresses with its regal attitude. Such as this common Indian House Crow, photographed by blogger friend, Magiceye. He has posted the photograph in his post , part of the Camera Critters series.

As he says , " The common house crow of Mumbai, sitting for a portrait :)".....

Regardless of whether you call it the Common Indian House Crow, or Corvus Splendens Zugmayeri  , it is useful to dwell upon the life and times of such a crow, and wonder how it can express its angst.

Luckily these days, there is a popular song for that. This is the Zugmayeri version for crows.

(photo by Deepak Amembal Magiceye)

Sir Corvus Splendens Zugmayeri*** ,
earlier
of Anjarle,
on the lush
Kokan coast,
now settled
in Bandra, Mumbai
since the last generation......

Reflecting
on the scarcity of trees
he can alight on,
in this metropolis,
and
worried about
the competition
that exists
to scavenge
something he wishes to....

Its a difficult life,
what with
so many wires crisscrossing
the sky,
all those towers on buildings,
such terrible deisel-ised air,
and having
to fight
with eagles and gulls
frequently....

The hair is getting whiter,
the eyebrows sparser;
and although
He can see better than most,
He stares in anger,
speechless,
but asks,
"Pray, tell me, 
why this Zugmayeri Zugmayeri Zugmayeri Di ?..."

Vada Paav : Bada Bhaav !

Doesn't need much inspiration to click this, and doesn't need much inspiration to write about this. The smarter ones simply and quietly get on with the eating.

Blogger friend , Magiceye, immortalized Mumbai's staple snack, Vada Paav, in this visual that he posted as part of his "Mumbai Daily : ABC Wednesday-V" series. Available in every corner cart, small shop, or eatery, featured by 5 start hotels, on their days dedicated to "roadside eats"  , this is India's answer to McD : cheaper, vegetarian, better tasting, and keeps the profits within the country.

Sometimes , I think it represents the Mumbaikar. Brand Ambassador for Vada Paav.

You can also make poems on it, and avoid the calories. The photos are so good, you feel you've eaten it :-)

(photo by Deepak Amembal Magiceye)

The Mumbaikar.

Full of energy,
occasionally spicy,
sometimes so hot
as to make tears,
wrapped up
always
in "besan-nic***" dust,
and fried
in a permanent
hot and wet summer,
he is
like the vada,
enticing,
golden,
rich,oily,
almost like a politician.

But the humble paav,
the Bread of Life,
baked
in tough times,
but still
soft at heart,
wraps itself around it,
saying,
regardless of
where we came from,
we must mix
in peace,
bring out the best
in each other,
be there for everyone,
rich and poor,
young and old.

Sometimes
we need to be tough
and dangerously red,
sometimes,
benevolently green
on the paav.

But this variety
in Mumbai
makes for
such
an excellent combination
that it would win
hands down
if it stood for
a civic election...


***Besan : garbanzo flour, used as paste to cover and fry.

Loaded Minds

Nothing depicts Mumbai better, than a photograph of ongoing construction, posted by Blogger friend Magiceye, as part of his Mumbai Daily : Monochrome Mania series posts.

The irony is, that in the big hurry to build homes , we continue to create more homeless, comprising those, who are brought in from the far away villages, to labour at these construction sites....and thereby hangs a bag of worries, hopes, and fears,  on these ambitious spikes, that continue to aim higher, and higher, and higher ....


(photo by Deepak Amembal Magiceye)

Some legends
in a race,
minds spiked with
desperate ambition
to get
a
bigger,
higher,
taller,
richer
abode,
to look down
in blind victory
on others
scrounging below.

And the homeless,
construction laborer,
with a roof
in the village back home,
slogs in the city,
carrying his
fears,
ambitions,
hunger,
and worries,
stuffed in a bag ,
hung open to the elements
on the 25th floor
where he works,
hoping
Someone Up There
in the sky
looks out for him....

Behold, a Ray !

This is how the sky looked recently , above Bandra, a prominent western Mumbai suburb.

As clicked by my blogger friend , Magiceye, and posted as part of his Skywatch Friday series.

Heavenly bodies, often have earthly reactions, particularly, when tolerance is stretched beyond limits, faced with terrorist attacks, and senseless governance.

At least that's what it looks like to someone, who despairs for those supposed to govern us, and awaits some divine intervention.....

(photo by Deepak Amembal Magiceye)

He watches
disillusioned
as
they
mobilize to destroy,
cheat to acquire more,
mislead to frighten,
power themselves
to impoverish others,
deliberately act blind
while seeing
behind every act
and go about
burning
lives and futures,
of those
who make the country for them.

Black clouds
of a rampant monsoon
thunder in,
like hopes
squeezed in the sky
till the last drop is gone.

He doesnt give up.
Moves,
in burning anger,
quietly
behind the
blackness.
There has to be
a solution
somewhere.
A different heat
a different light,
and he bursts through
a weak patch,
a ray of hope
for a
city,
looking for an answer.....

Black Wednesday

My blogger friend, Magiceye , with a touching tribute to those who lost their loved ones, in the terrorist blasts, on Black Wednesday, July 13, 2011.

And they still carry on, in grief, anger,helplessness, and sometimes, just a little bit of hope, thinking that , maybe, one day the sun will shine on the simple, ordinary folks of this city again.

(photo by Deepak Amembal Magiceye)
The Mumbai sun
often lingered
longingly at dusk,
orange red
on the horizon,
with a look of love
at a favourite city...

Something else
has now colored
the waters
reddish,
quiet and lifeless,
ripples blindly carrying on
dashing against
bare rods.

The people carry on
the business of living,
blindly moving.

While
on so many lives,
the sun has set
without warning.

The nightmare begins.

And the Pond Heron ponders.....

Ever seen a pond heron at the Sewri mudflats on Mumbai's eastern seaboard ? Magiceye , who has a photo blog, (amongst many others) has a picture of one, pondering , amidst the stuff, on his Camera Critters post on his blog.

Slightly spoiled white habit, amidst the desolation around , and the demeanor of the pond heron, reminded me of a particular, frequently observed human species in Mumbai : the politician, who switches political parties at will.......

Erstwhile
pure white habits
tinged with a bit of gray,
the cap
blown away to the side,
hair
slightly disheveled
by the winds of change,
he carefully
surveys
his constituency.

Things
are getting sticky
what
with the
frequent ups and downs
around him.

There are holes around
where he might slip
deep into something
unknowingly;
some may be traps .
Who knows ?

Stepping around
with much care,
should help....
worse comes to worse,
he can always fly
to
another political outfit,
the UFI,
United Flamingoes of India ....

Seasons in the life of a Young Woman

A young friend recently left the Mumbai corporate working life, for a slightly more sedate and regimented life , doing academics in Hyderabad. Turns out that you can take a person out of Mumbai , but cannot take Mumbai out of someone's heart. Named after the Ocean, she currently pines for a life that includes activities and friends, at Marine Drive, Bandra Bandstand, NCPA , the Worli Seaface Promenade, and other landmarks that were part of her day...

Just a little something to console her ....


Every life
has a summer holiday;

Your's was Mumbai,
with
its fractured languages,
expressive
public transport,
waves crashing against
seaside promenades,
as some snuggle
together
with a spicy wada pao
while some others,
sipped
starry wine
butlered meals,
shooting Juhu stars,
amidst embelishments
from Zara;

But the
seasons change,
the school year
happens,
and amidst
late nights slogging,
endless coffee
cursing some,
a straighter road,
a more sedate walk,
but
loving some
gleaming bangles,
eyes watery
due to biryanical spices,
its time to
get back to books.

To make the next summer
even
more brilliant....

Birds and Attitudes

Magiceye really does have a magic eye.

A person who is a member of several photo blogging international groups, he blogs at several places , described by him alongside:

http://magiceye.redbubble.com/works To view/buy my Art
http://photings.blogspot.com/ For jottings on photographs
http://magictravels.blogspot.com/ For the magic of travel
http://mumbai-eyed.blogspot.com/ For your daily dose of Mumbai
http://petsalways.blogspot.com/.blogspot.com/ For rejoicing pet love!
http://instantwords.blogspot.com/ a piece of my mind

Here is something , recently posted on his Mumbai blog above. A haughty golden oriole sitting and observing the world as the thrifty pigeon, goes flying about its daily chores. Photographed in Andheri, a western suburb of Mumbai.

Much like some prosperous Mumbai Industrialist lording it over the country's tallest single family residence in Mumbai, while the hoi polloi scurry around the megapolis, possibly worrying about their next house installment....



Some,
high up there,
rarified and bare
in solitary golden splendour,
with a choice of Green-pods;
shades
of those
in 45 storey houses
for a total of 6,
rarified,
up there,
golden
and folks
with diamond I-pods.

And the
proletarian pigeon,
high above the
mass greenery,
having moved
so very often,
balcony to box
and behind baskets
and doors,
continues to fly by,
seeking
resting places,
watched
unconcerned,
by the
regal
page -3 type.....

The Fate of the Flamingoes.....

The Sewri mud flats and swamps on Mumbai's eastern seaboard, are home to pink flamingoes migrating from the west every year. The dirty, swampy, ignored flats are a natural gestation place, and the flamingoes lay eggs there, because it is safe.

The government in its usual "wisdom" plans to build a bridge there up to Nhava Shiva across the bay, despite environmentalists warning against spoiling the natural ecosystem.

My friend Runcil Rebello went on a trip there, and took some wonderful photos. Have a look at the other photos here.

Before the bridge happens, and the flamingoes depart.

(photo by Runcil Rebello)

The flamingo ladies
traipse daintily
towards
the meeting venue ;
they must stop
the wild Nhava bridge
that threatens
to tear
thru their swamp.




She's been flying in
every year
eastwards from Gujarat,
in the pink of health.

Its her maika***,
be it
dirty,
marshy,
algae-ly green,
foot sinking trash.

And so,
its the safest place
to lay her eggs,
away
from the
predators
and natural jackals
of the city.
She too is safe,
from hunters
of the meat;
her slender wiry frame
doesn't appeal
to the Carnivores of Mumbai.

What she doesn't know,
is that the same
jackals and crooks
eye her maika,
with gleaming eyes.

The project
will take a toll
of her life,
but will earn
infinite
toll income
for the crooks....


***maika :maternal home
.
.

In praise of wada pao

Someone had to do this. Kavi does it best in his post on the Mumbai Hottie.

Then there wasn't any wada pao nearby. So I simply had to make do with these words.

And I'm off to find a stall :-)

(photo and eating by Kavi Arasu)



No size zero
no Page 3,
No symmetric patty
ensconced in predictable buns
carefully
accessorized by
a mayo
flowing just so
amidst
a skirting lettuce
pushing the tomato.


But a carbo flamenco
a full size
spicy
hot
capsaicinized
melt-in-the-mouth
tongue tingling
piece
roughly
wrapped up
by
a concerned pao
sometimes
anointed
with red and orange
and sometimes
jalapeno green.

Devoured on an
Indian Run,
multitasking
and multieating
in Mumbai.

Eat your heart out McD
as we rush
under the Golden arches
of our Railway stations....:-))

Building up......his nest ?

In response to a wonderful post about early morning activities at constructon sites in upmarket Mumbai, where the construction staff is almost always from mofussil rural India, outside the state.....trying to earn a living in the face of unrewarding agriculture.....

(Picture (c) Franklin McMohan)





Listening to the bark
of the helmeted one,
His eyes
misting
over the scaffolding
He sees
a field in the wind,
a stationery plough,
a quiet dawn,
presided over by
a giant banyan tree,


And a wisp of a woman,
saree tucked in
holding
a cloth wrapped lunch
saying,
"Take this,
your lunch,
I know you'll be late
You have a meeting
with the Rain God..."

And he shudders,
as a firm hand
descends
on his never-give-up
shoulders,
saying,
***"Chalo chalo,hurry up,
Aaj slab puri karni hai....."


***"Come on, hurry up, the slab work must get done today"(translation from hindi)

A dog's life.

Read this. And then this . Then marvel at the availability of Rs 1600 crores (1 crore = 10 million) available for the mollycoddling (The Bandra Worli Sea link) of the automobile lobby. And the pseudo-urgency of erecting statues in the ocean (at a similar cost), in honour of a king , who would have been aghast at the skewed priorities of the Powers-that-be today. When so many other things cry out for help.



Some are dogs,
Some live that life,
Both watched by those,
Drunk on Power...

Some led by chains,
Promenading,
Inhaling, as the ozone
masks the evicted,
undigested, documented
droppings.
Stiff rules now,
Drop and Pick up,
And the chained ones,
wag their coiffured tails,
and smile,
wondering about
The Powerful,
The Shameless Ones.

Far elsewhere,
chained by the have-nots
but chased by life,
She ventures in the dark
of an eerie dawn,
others alongside,
tumbler in hand,
seeking a place;
Eyes darting,
Seeking relief somewhere,
Not
an airy promenade,
but wild growth,
Fear creeping around,
beside a station wall.

Yet,
again and again
drunk with power,
They provide for actual dogs,
and ignore
those unfortunate ones,
treated as some...

A Day in the life of ........

Those potholed roads lie flat in apathy,
As she lumbers across carrying the load,
Of humanity,
Revving up with a sneeze,
A delighted exhaust blast,
She siddles up to a busstop.



Tired faces at windows,
Nose on the bar,
watching the battle to enter,
The right to a Square Foot of Steel,
As other feet fight ,
umbrellas as weapons,
Dripping the pollution of the skies.


Some polite moves,
Some leching eyes,
Body contracting to one side,
She clutches her purse,
and the child holding on to schoolbooks,
Wet behind the ears,
Shoes stepping on her sandaled feet,
The toe ring hurts.

And the brown uniform,
taps his punch on the seat rod,
Calls out , and beckons....
"Sir, cant you see,
This is a ladies seat,
Ma'am, come forward..."
And she puts the child ahead,
squeezes against briefcases,
and limbs
Clutching her purse
Getting ahead.

A sudden pothole,
A surprise jerk,
They fall backwards,
They've lost their place,
but fall unhurt,
tumbling over a base,
Cushioned by the humanity of Mumbai,
Packing the monsoon buses.

They dust themselves,
tucking in dishevelled thoughts,
Collect their bags
and Thoughts,
Clutching the rods once again
Ruffling the hair of a child,
Who stands again with his mother,
Facing another schoolday,
Another bus,
Another crowd,
Another rain....
The same life...........