Essentially Mumbai death statistics!

The recent spate of events in Mumbai have sparked a rather disturbing but funny trend analysis in me. Given that it all started since 1993 blasts, I sure have collected pages and pages of data on the said analysis on a Comman Mumbaiite. So, let me introduce a Common Mumbaiite, one may imagine R. K. Laxman’s Common Man. Yeah, a picture is worth a thousand words but I’m no cartoonist. Please bear with the words till I hone my cartooning skills!


Common Mumbaiite – The common man/woman one sees walking in the streets, who never indulges in any kinda warfare; who believes in Ram, Christ and Allah, who visits Siddhivinayak temple at Dadar every Tuesday, St. Michaels church at Mahim every Wednesday and the Haji Ali Dargah on Friday; who breathes the heavily-polluted air all the while jammed in heavy traffic; who pays his taxes before time and also ‘haftha’ to the local hooligans, petty civic workers and/or police; who finds ‘bomb blasts’ utterly passe; who worships ‘Sachin Tendulkar’ as a Hero; who dreams of becoming the next ‘Dhirubhai Ambani’; who mentally and physically prepares to face the fierce monsoon lashes; who casually saves another life, putting his own in danger or losing it altogether while the authorities look on….;who dies of body but not of spirit.



Here are the statistics on the causes and the likelihood of death for a Common Mumbaiite:

What is the probability that a Common Mumbaiite dies from the pollution he lives in, given that he inhales as much CO as he does O2?
Ans. 0


…… dies from toiling his a** out in order to combat the ever increasing cost of living, vegetables and real estate prices?
Ans. 0.1


…… dies from heart disease given the high levels of stress, fast life and fast food?
Ans. 0.2


…..dies from brain disease given that he ‘has to’ use most of it in his survival strategy from the authorities and the so-called law and order system?
Ans. 0.3


…..dies from the ‘malaria’ caused by special Mumbai-bred mosquitoes given that these mosquitoes have mutated over the years just like him?
Ans. 0.4


…. dies from crossing the railway track since the ‘authorities’ forgot to build the ‘foot over-bridge’?
Ans. 0.5


….dies while crossing the road given that he has to break pedestrian rules as he is already late for work due to the f***ing traffic?
Ans. 0.6


….dies when a local corporator and/or police barks at or bites him given that he deals with them almost right from his food, water, clothing and shelter to a kindergarten admission for his kids?
Ans. 0.7


….dies when he is considered a threat to the ruling party and inadvertently comes in the line of fire given that the ‘Z’ category security of our beloved ministers, VIPs shoot almost anything that comes in visible range?
Ans. 0.8


…dies from a bullet given that he is always ducking them in trains, buses, temples and crowded places and is now a trained expert in the same?
Ans. 0.9


…..dies from a bomb blast given that a blast has occured just inches away from him decorating him with shrapnel and blood, his own and some others, most of his life?
Ans. 1


P.S.: This trend holds true only for Mumbaiites. In cases of death other than Mumbaiites, the trend would be reversed! And, yes, no more beauty tips from the kitchen, I’d rather give a beauty tip from my soul.


C for Courage: No beauty is complete if there is fear within. Courage is the only answer to the Devil. Stand fearless, the world salutes thy soul!

Betrayed

of what is and what isn’t?
this i shall not ask,
of who did and who didn’t
this too i shan’t ask

they sweared on oath
they loved her most
and when she beckons-
would protect her post

she lay there still
betrayed and torn-
no voice to bring
alas, of her own!

while under siege
she held on hope,
the humbuggers all,
“look, who bears the oath!”

Unnamed, incurable, embarassing, chronic mental disorder

Vin was the most brightest star in this side of the hemisphere and an apostle of the innocents, until the bugs got her. The bugs of the ‘Untitled, incurable, embarassing, chronic mental disorder’. One may ask ‘What? Who? Where? How?’. All answers lie ahead…Read at your own risk!

The seeds were sown in kindergarten itself. Tiny, innocent toddlers like me were taught to associate new words with similar stuff to aid memory. Little vin enjoyed this game, little did she know that the seeds were germinating!! Every new word had a little relative. One fine day, vin was no more a toddler..she had blossomed! Now, can one blame her for what occured after that, she associated ‘interesting’ words, of course to aid her memory, alas now these memories wont fade soon…Associations should be technically based on sound, color, feel, smell but here they were usually baseless, illogical, totally irrelevant ones. Some are her own associations while some of them have been transmitted unawares. Nevertheless, she struggles with these growing collectibles and posting them ensures a light wink in her eye. So, here goes…

All teenagers dread this emotionally depressing monster, I did too. I’m talking about ‘pimples’, Only my germs associated it somehow with ‘nipples’, dont ask me why. The germs have multiplied and now only associate in one lane. Side effects include utter disgust at all ‘pimple reduction/control/removal’ creams. One horrible incident: a guy asked for solution for his pimples, I eagerly said ‘Just have a lot of cooling stuff, your nipples would disappear!’
I wished to disappear…

A dear friend is always ‘associating’ the word ‘prosecuted’ with ‘prostituted’. No logic, right? Wrong, the germs know better. These germs are ‘gems’ in illogical, embarassing link-ups. All boards with ‘Trespassers will be prosecuted’ becomes ‘Trespassers will be prostituted!’, whatever that means. Holy Christ, I will never trespass! This dear friend has associated another gem. A question like ‘What are the pros and cons of this method?’ becomes a story about prostitutes and conmen!! He sure loves our munni bai’s and munshiji’s from bollywood.

Another dear friend, this time a ‘she’, has compelled me to forgo one of my favorite musicians – Kenny G. Not her fault though, its her vernacular tongue.Our most popular, beloved three-lettered word ‘sex’ becomes ‘sax’. When I listened to Kenny G, I usually imagined him with his ‘Saxophone’ in his mouth, but after that it only looks like an instrument of ‘Sex’!
The germs are in their most active state.

Once I saw a very beautiful painting of two pigeons. Only later I realised to my horror, that the beautiful painting was actually a topless woman!! The germs are busy at work. All mentions of pigeons in prose, poetry, peace talks, images of them carrying twigs and paintings especially make me sore. The topless woman scares me! Am sure the germs are winking now.

All sutra ending words associate automatically with the ‘Kamasutra’, the germs know better. I wonder how i’ll ever wear the Mangal Sutra.

Kohinoor Continental is not just a ‘Gem’ of a hotel in my area, its rather an embarassing one. Even while taking an auto, I have to tell the poor chap ‘Kohinoor Continental Hotel jaana hain‘, lest he take me elsewhere. The germs have etched the kohinoor ads with permanent marker. That chap might be innocent, but my germs arent na!

And, did I say this is an extremely contagious disorder? The malfunctioning germs from the writers cranium immediately transmit themselves onto the readers cranium via brain waves during the process of reading. This survival strategy ensures healthy (read embarassment-causing), more effective and treatment-resistant progeny.

Congratulations, you’ve caught the bug too!!

P.S: Now that I’ve infected you, I better compensate with my beauty tip from the kitchen.

B for Besan: Besan is the hindi equivalent for chickpea flour. If the fallout of a sunny day at the beach is an unwanted tan, fret not! All you have to do is mix besan, a few drops of lemon juice and curds. Apply it to your face and other tanned parts of your body. Leave it on till it dries and rinse of with cool water. Repeat this procedure for 10 days.
Oh, BTW….Besan is dead effective against pimples!

An invitation from Mr. Black Cobra!

Yeah, you read that right. It all happened about a month ago. It was 5 am and I was as usual lost, lost not on the god-damn roads without billboards (am directionally disillusioned, remember??), but lost in slumberland!

He stood right in front of me, all black and shiny, now dont ask how a snake stands?; so he balanced himself upright on his coiled rear end and hissed an invite, quite an enchanting invite though I havent learnt the snake lingo, I knew for sure that the enchanting feeling it gave me was indeed my call from above !!! chalo bulava aya hain, mujhe matha ne bulaya hain.

I was glad that at last some-body/animal rather reptile has invited me to its den for some electrifying exchange of thoughts and/or theories, at least thats what I thought it meant. Come on..what else could a shiny, black cobra want from a beautiful girl like me? why else would a shiny, black cobra scare the night-lights out of me?

So, this woman of substance AKA Smart Alecca, does an innocent U-turn. She confides to her mom. Now, as all moms are, her mom was too! One may ask what? TERRIFIED, I say!!

She drags Smart Alecca all the way to the family astrologer, a Mr. Know-it-all, dont we all have one? Incidentally, he also happens to interpret dreams/nightmares whatever. That trip called upon urgently for another one…only this trip would be another 1000 kms plus from Mumbai – the trip to the Kukke Subramanya temple only 100 kms from Mangalore, where my roots are!

Here, Lord Subramanya is worshiped in the form of a Cobra, so that was indeed an invite; a call from above! Legend has it that sarpa dosha (curse of a snake) may be pardoned here by the Lord Himself provided the appropriate pooja is performed. We performed one of the poojas as prescribed by our family doctor errr family astrologer!!

Guess what I prayed for, rather humbly and naively:

Vinny ki tammana hain ke Hero use mil jaye
Chahe meri jaan jaye, chahe mera dil jaye

P.S: I’m obliged to add useful footnotes for having wasted your precious time thus far blabbering about snakes, God, Snake-God, beliefs, superstition and the likes. So, here goes my A to Z tips on Beauty from the Kitchen!! (given that men too are beauty conscious)..For all men who aren’t, just ponder on the SAKA fairness cream ad – EVOLVE!

A for Aloe vera: It is the perfect cooling remedy for a sun-burnt skin. All you have to do is pluck a fresh aloe vera leaf and extract its gel. Apply it to the sun-burnt area and rinse it off after it dries. Repeat the procedure for some days. (a tip from the garden rather?)

B for ?(check out next post!)

Love, pain and other catalysts!

I often wonder as to what is the secret formula for an average Joe / Jane to turn into a ‘somebody’? (and now even more after the huge, emotional marathon of comments on my theory!!) How and when do they find that formula? Is it the urge germinating after years of being tagged as ‘average’? Is it a ‘natural trait’- like something which is inherited, like something which tells them ‘You have loads to give the world, so go on, get it out, what are you waiting for”? Or, is it some kind of inner transformation they go through, at a sub-conscious level, in the process of combating a broken heart, a broken dream, loss of a loved one or the general injustice/ imbalance prevailing in the world?

Well, I could come up with only my personal theories….err ideas!

I observed my own evolution; I observed the evolutions of folks around me; I read through autobiographies/ biographies and my conclusion was this:

All greatness was related to creativity, all creativity was in turn related to love, pain and other emotional catalysts !

Even a tiny piece of creative work comes from either of the emotions stated above, and immediately the average Joe / Jane would get tagged as great! The once-average-now-great wonders what happened to me? I’m only trying to overcome the pain – my sweetheart is no more; I’m only trying to survive – my dad’s no more! but what they don’t realise is this: In the process of overcoming , escaping or surviving pain, this pain serves as a catalyst in bringing them closer to their ‘inner self’, the ‘inner self’ – temple of infinite potential, wherein anything that can be ‘thought of’, can be ‘created’. When we look back at our roots, our parents and their roots and so on…, we see a chain of transformations occurring at major ‘emotional points’ – loss of a loved one or a beloved, separation from a place of childhood days, letting go of a much sought after desire, unable to live up to expectations of near ones, etc.

The pain is pierced at to let out to drip off….very much like the boil that is pierced at to let out the pus, knowing that not only will it cause more pain but also it is the only way to heal, the only way to move on! Leading to original, hereby unthought-of creations! Leading to better artists, poets, writers, musicians, dancers, singers, sculptors, inventors, etc.

Some of us here can undoubtedly relate this to their experiences while writing, is it not that the best piece comes from the worst pain?

Ending with two of my favourite lines from ‘Tujhse naraaz nahi..’ from the movie ‘Masoom’:

zindagi tere gham ne hamein rishte naye samjhaaye
mile jo hamein dhoop mein mile chhaon ke thande saaye

The Real Theory of Relativity!

OK! So, what’s this? Has Alecca the Smart, finally lost it? Is she hearing voices? Is she on unseen, unknown subtle planes? Or…has she started thinking!

Hah !

Not really, one may say it all just came to her – a million suns shone right through and a million sparks flew by! This theory just popped out amongst the peanuts she’s got in there! This theory which she wishes to share with the world – Let another million suns shine and another million sparks flow by…So here goes:



The Real Theory of Relativity
Dedicated to:
All who’ve known thy lover’s scorn,
Burnt thy fates unknown throughout
For true love, forgives none –
For true love, forgiveness knows not


L = T F square
where, L implies Love
                                                T implies Time and
                                                F implies Forgiveness

It all came when I was staring at nothingness or so it seems to my folks. Well, I cant say when or particularly pinpoint a time as one would note down for a newborn! But, It was more like an itch on the insides, no, not that insides, the grey matter insides where one dares to step on, who knows what devils are larking by? By thoughts, I was gloomy; by feelings, I was sad. But, by spirits, I was awake! Yes, and I say that for the record- my spirits were high, no not on RC or JW or Desi, rather one may imagine a high-spirited-euphoric-revelation kinda state, a state in which only the Divine Voices can be heard!

Having just gotten out of the cage, err.. I mean having come out of a relationship, I paused to look back, to feel the myriads of emotions once so intense, to take back all items of value, to wipe off all traces of selfishness, to mend all the broken dreams but imagine what I saw: A bright light with a silver-like hue ! and imagine what I heard:



“And all the blind with hearts of gold,
thine eyes can see but not behold
hath no rays that pass through gold,
hath no rays that pass through gold!
She stood before me, all naked but not cold –
the Truth as is forever to be told”.


And the Truth lies here…


Love is the eternal, the omnipotent; the ever stable life force. Time is the medium, the constant; it was, it is and it will be. Forgiveness is the multiplier factor, the more one forgives, the more it brings out Love. With Time being in a perpetual state of who-knows-the-beginning and who-knows-the-end, Love is growing or diminishing in much the same measure as does Forgiveness! As long as a single entity wishes to thrive, it must do so collectively in the absolute sense, thereby maintaining the Universal Equilibrium! So, my dear friends, waste not your precious time (in reading this!), but Forgive with a pure heart and Love would only have to multiply, etched on the sands of Time for eternity!

Credits: I would sincerely like to thank the below for saying what they said, for doing what they did, for just being there to cross my path, without which I wouldn’t have learnt this most amazing Real Theory of Relativity!



• All my lovers, past and present

• All I love, past and present
• When both of us were in love, only past… oops!
• Michael Bolton’s evergreen album – Time, Love and Tenderness!
……………….and last but not the least
• Our dear own, Mr. Albert Einstein, of course !

Jingle Bells..Jingle Bells!

dashing through the votes
’n a million tons of hope
O’er the hill he goes
fighting gravity all the way
bells of victory ring
making spirits bright
what fun it is to laugh and sing
a victory song tonight !

oh, jingle bells, jingle bells
jingle all the way
oh, what fun it is to be
in a new chapter in history
jingle bells, jingle bells
jingle all the way
oh, what fun it is to believe
nuances of change will be !

a day or two ago
i thought it impossible
’n soon Mr. Barack Obama
was seated at his throne
the foes were lean and lank
misfortune seemed their lot
they got into a drifted bank
’n then they got upsot

oh, jingle bells, jingle bells
jingle all the way
oh, what fun it is to be
the change you want to see
jingle bells, jingle bells
jingle all the way
oh, what fun it is to be
in a whole new democracy ! yeah

oh, jingle bells, jingle bells
jingle all the way
oh, what fun it is to be
the change you want to see
jingle bells, jingle bells
jingle all the way
oh, what fun it is to be
in a whole new democracy !

This is my response to 3WW, please check out more fun stuff , weaved out of only three words!

Good Bye!

Just two simple words, yet how difficult to say!

I dedicate this post to a very ‘special’ friend of mine.
‘Special’ not because he made me feel like an ‘Angel’, but rather I saw my dark side, the side which I never acknowledged, the side which I thought was a non-existing entity sticking on to me, the side which I preferred to see only in others, the side which I believed only others had !

He was my partner-in-crime. Of course, the criminal was me but he would never reveal it to anyone, making the crime so much more fun and the criminal more happy!

He was the priest at the confession counter! He would listen to my confessions without judging me. Hmmm, if only we all were like that!

He was my confidant, yes, I could tell him the most heinous crimes I have committed, am committing right now and plan to commit soon. I would even ask him suggestions for crime improvement!

He was my dustbin, always received the heaps of rubbish I would throw like a gift! This dustbin never complained!

He was my tear-sponge! He would just soak up all the waterworks and lighten me by a few tons at least. Hehehe

He had a great sense of colour, who else could tolerate my F-sprinkled lingo!
He made me ‘love’ myself; see myself through a more kinder heart and a less critical eye!

He made me ‘believe’ in myself, made the ‘blooming’ for real…unleashed the infinite within myself, helped me break ‘fear’ and realize my true potential.

So dear ‘Special’ friend, thank you for crossing my path and enriching it forever! With promises, the beautiful lessons learnt and always being aware of the dark in me, I move on. The Show Must Go On!
As all good things come to an end.. here comes the moment of truth… with loads of best wishes and brushing off a happy tear….Good Bye!

Real victims of war

Twilight sets in across the fields;
sweet are the smells of the daffodils
The skies, cast in a reddish hue,
beckon the little soul, albeit somewhat close

The little boy runs off to play;
steps on a mine, a device to kill and decay
His mother awaits with steaming rice
Her little angel would be home in a trice!

Little did she know, her angel would be no more
But as she sees the damage done
She screams out to the heavens above
Why do you spread the message of love?
O Why do you spread the message of love?

Clutching the corpse to her bosom,
And a knife deep inside her heart
In vain, she breathes unto him
this life, that she now longs to depart

She runs across the fields; she runs helter-skelter
What for is this war? Who will give me an answer?
But, no soul heeds to her cries, alas, no soul heeds to her cries..
Just then the heavens speak, “your child is safe in our arms,
protected from mankind, may you learn the lesson of love
pray, do not question the messages from above”.

This is about the innocent victims of landmines, where most survivors are maimed for life. I couldn’t bring myself to put up a picture as its too repulsive. This poem is in response to 3WW

An Ode to a Banyan tree

O Merciful ‘n’ kind banyan tree-
In thy shade thrive the Lord’s other beautiful beings
Thou welcomes the burning molten rays and,
Tranforms them into a mothers’ protective embrace!

Does it not ache thee, when thou arms are cut and bleeding?
When gratitude is forgotten, what difference does it make?
In our cunning and naivety, we often forget;
The more we cut, the more we burn and suffer.

This is my humble attempt at weaving a poem from 3 given words!! Please check out amazing write-ups at 3WW: Three Word Wednesday here.