Twenty- five Seven

Mumbai’s newest cultural Hub

August 20, 2023

What can one do if one is spending just a few hours in Mumbai? Quite frankly, I’d tell such visitors to stay in their hotels and enjoy a few hours of quiet because getting around from one part of the city to the other is time consuming and more often than not, all you’d really be doing is spending hours in the traffic.

Mumbai is a historic city that is quite different from any other Indian city. It has a vibe that combines money with busyness and every one seems to be in a hurry to get somewhere. With iconic buildings ,historic spots and plenty of food options, the city offers a unique experience : but sadly one can only take one Bombay experience at a time.

However, if you do want to combine everything in an abbreviated way, I would highly recommend a visit to the newly opened Nita Mukesh Ambani Cultural Centre . It is not that new really but it is now that it is making its mark as a cultural hub in the middle of this city.

Well located in the newest business area of Mumbai, Bandra Kurla Complex commonly known as BKC, with broad roads, swanky buildings and a five star hotel, the NMACC rounds off this business hub in much the same way as the old NCPA rounded off the Nariman Point business area.

The NMACC is a complex of three theatres with different seating capacities to ensure that Mumbaikars, particularly those in the Northern suburbs get a chance to experience the rich cultural traditions formerly restricted to those in the South.

More than an Opera House

Initially, with most galleries and boutiques situated in South Bombay, the NCPA took pride of place at the very end of Marine Drive. Built alongside the Arabian Sea, it has for long been the Mecca of all things Cultural and has hosted many an event for its patrons, dripping with their diamonds and emeralds. stepping out of their chauffeur driven cars,

I don’t mean to down play its importance, because in its time. it gave us a chance to hear wonderful artists and performances . But like everything, it has become small and too cozy and rather inaccessible to the general public, who often found it a fiddle to go to with its limited parking space, and poor public transport connectivity. Often times, I found that while a cabbie was somewhat reluctant to take me to the NCPA, there was simply no one available to bring me back when the show was over!

So even though the NMACC doesn’t have a grand sea face location, it scores over the NCPA with the sheer size of its car parking space. And you needn’t fear about getting lost because there are enough attendants to guide you through the maze. It is advisable to take your own car because public transport is of course no where to be found. And we all know how conveniently Uber taxis find it difficult to find you and expect you to do the hop, skip and jump to where they park themselves.

But all in all, once inside the GRAND THEATRE complex, one is in for a visual treat. With live artists displaying traditional skills, this space is a platform for local artists to showcase their talents. One doesn’t have to go to the interiors of India to get a glimpse of how various art forms and handicrafts are made all over India. From time to time, there are artisans and craftsmen at work displaying their skills and work for all to see.

Even though I didn’t make it to the first day, first show list, I was fortunate enough to experience the NMACC first hand when I went to see “The Sound of Music”.

Initially, I was taken aback by the sheer incline of the steps in the balcony and had to hold on to the railings and walk carefully so as to avoid tumbling down. I was also a bit taken aback by how close I was to touching the Swarovski studded lights on the ceiling light.

But, I soon settled down to enjoy the performance and by the time I went to see my second show, “West Side Story”, I was quite familiar with the place and was less daunted with the seating.

I also knew that despite the number of stalls in the restroom ((as it is called these days), there was only ONE restroom for women (and one for men) so at interval time, there was quite a rush. So one should be smart enough to time one’s loo break.

Similarly one should also time one’s snack break, preferably having a coffee or snack before the show because the lines during the brief interval are horrendous. And naturally no drinks or food are allowed inside, so it would mean a quick gulp before rushing back to the show.

All that is old is not always gold

“West Side Story” itself is an old musical and touted as a timeless Broadway classic. Sadly, though, I found the magic of a Broadway Musical sorely lacking in this performance. Perhaps I was way too up to get to see the expressions of the actors but more than that, I think this is a done to death theme that has little relevance in today’s times where everything goes. After all there are love stories that go bad, but like Little Po said on hearing the story of Romeo & Juliet, the whole idea was pretty ridiculous.

The story apart, the songs themselves were hardly ‘singable’ and unlike the ‘Sound of Music’ performance that had the whole audience singing along, I could hardly contain my yawns.

So it would seem that classics are not always classic and timeless. There does come a time when though the theme is timeless, the costumes, the sets and the context get dated and lose their appeal for different audiences.

If NMACC wants to pull in the crowds, it will have to bring more contemporary or more popular old shows that have more appeal to the Mumbai public. Musicals like ‘Lion King’, ‘Cats’ , ‘Phantom of the Opera’, ‘Fiddler on the Roof’ with music that Mumbaikars are familiar with.

Thank you for the Music, Art and Food

But all in all, I am glad that NMACC is around and even though it is a trek, more often than not, it is well worth it.

Visitors to this city would be advised to make this a compulsory stop on their itinerary. Especially if you are here on a short visit, NMACC is perfect for a glimpse into India’s rich cultural tradition of the performing arts, handicrafts art.

And, the added bonus is the wide variety of cuisine available both within and around the complex.

Ciao
Life can only be understood backwards ;but it must be lived forwards

August 17, 2023

Do you find that as you get older, you understand more of why you acted the way you did?

Photo by Laura Ockel on Unsplash

Recently, I picked up courage to play Bridge, a game that I had learnt to deal with the empty nest syndrome. But soon my nest was filled with more fledglings ( my Little People) so I had even less time to spend playing cards.

This time round, however, I found that I understood the game much better. In the past, I had struggled with the card count, the bidding and even the play! My preferred game was as Dummy. But now, l am getting faster in counting, more watchful of the bidding and actually keeping count of the cards. Perhaps, there is hope for me in the future yet as a decent Bridge player.

Actually over the past few months, I am finding solutions for everyday problems . Have I suddenly become wiser?

The answer unexpectedly came to me when I explored the blog of a visitor who had left a LIKE on mine. I was thrilled with this reaction because my readers had become few and far between.

But now, like many things, I have become more aware of my ” past mistakes” and am trying assiduously to build back my audienc.

So I visited her blog and it seemed she had written it specifically for me.

I was grabbed by her quote which now served to become the title of this post.

Indeed, often times, it is only in hindsight that things become clearer to us.

Past Imperfect

So often we regret a decision, rue the missed opportunities that came our way or wonder why certain things panned out the way they did.

For instance, would things have turned out differently for me and my family had we stuck to our original plan and checked into the hotel we were booked to stay in rather than checking into another hotel just to be with our friends?

Let me explain.

In the early 60’s, under the terms of a bi-lateral collaboration agreement, the Indian Government sent along a contingent of Naval Officers to help the newly independent Nigeria to establish its own Military academies etc. The rationale was that having shared a common Imperial coloniser, the service traditions would have been familiar.

We enjoyed the ex-pat life , bonding with our fellow Indian families even though our houses were scattered all over Lagos. So when it was time to return, we decided to have a last hurrah before going back to India. Each family planned their own little holiday with the caveat that we would all assemble at Genoa to board the MV Victoria of Llyod Triestino lines for a last luxurious cruise.

Unbeknown to us, my father had applied and was accepted for a short medical course in a hospital in London. So leaving him behind, my brother and I made our way with our mum to meet up with our friends in Genoa.

We were so excited meeting up with our friends that instead of checking in to the hotel we were booked in, we went along to the hotel where they were staying.

And that one decision proved to be life changing.

While we were travelling to Genoa, my father had been received news of special permission to stay on longer in the UK and had sent a telegram to the hotel we were booked in asking us to return to London instead of proceeding to Bombay.

But because we didn’t go to the hotel, we missed the communication and hence missed the chance of staying on in the UK for maybe longer or may be even forever?

Often times, we sit back and wonder how life would have turned out for us had we returned to the UK. Would we have stayed forever?

One thing is for sure, it definitely wouldn’t have been what it is now.

The Phone Call

More recently, I was helping Anna Shetty pack her stuff to take to Jaslok Hospital , a leading hospital in South Mumbai where she was going to join a post graduate program in Internal Medicine.

I was really thrilled that finally she would be going to an easily accessible place for her post graduation studies in Internal Medicine because the four years of her undergraduate education was a nightmare for me. I literally had my heart in my mouth till she came home every night.

Her first year on MBBS at DY Patil Medical College in Navi Mumbai wasn’t so bad because it involved just an hour’s train ride from Mumbai’s CSMT to Nerul. The next three years were a nightmare for me at least with her changing two train lines that involved running between stations. Not used to travelling by local train and listening to horror stories of terror attacks, train accidents, floods in suburban Mumbai and even unexpected power outages, I was glad that she would be close by in case of an emergency.

Fast forward to when Anna Shetty’s phone rang as she was stuffing her knapsack with an apron that refused to get in. “Forget it,” she barked at me, “I’m getting late”.

“But you never know who it could be,” I countered, and picked it up even though it showed an unfamiliar number.

The voice at the other end was faint and crackly, “It sounds like a long distance call” , I said.

She grabbed the phone from me and a quick conversation later, she told me that it was from the hospital at BARC offering her a seat in Anaesthesia!

Now anyone who has attempted Medical Education in India would know how difficult the whole process is. And here she was getting an offer in two subjects!

She thought for moment and told me she’d changed her mind. She went of to Chembur an took up the PG seat in Anesthesia instead.

Often times I wonder what would have happened if I had ignored the phone call? Would she have been a general practitioner going from patient to patient at all odd hours of the night rather than an anesthetist going from hospital to hospital, dancing to a surgeon’s erratic schedule?

But we must march on

These are just a few of the numerous instances where things would have taken a different turn if I had taken the right fork instead of the left. If I hadn’t missed the first bus. If I hadn’t met the person I met. And I’m pretty sure it happens to all of us.

Life is full of probabilities and it is only in hindsight that we understand how it has panned out for us.

Regrets we may or may not have but we should look ahead and march on because days gone by can never come again.

Isn’t it?

Ciao
Rambling between the seasons

August 15, 2023

Once upon a time I used to blog. Regularly. Blogging was my way of reaching out to the world without making a phone call or catching a bus to meet someone somewhere.

I participated in Blog Hops, took part in blogger events and even had three blogs up and running simultaneoulsy. But today I find that my presence in the blogosphere has whittled down to a few posts on just this one blog.

Is this because I’m like a cat content to lie down as blogs go by?

Was it laziness? Was it depression? Was it overwork?

SHOULD SLEEPING BLOGS BE LEFT TO LIE?
Photo by u0410u043bu0435u043au0441u0430u043du0434u0430u0440 u0426u0432u0435u0442u0430u043du043eu0432u0438u045b on Pexels.com

Perhaps it was a combination of all.

Barring the odd post like the one that went up last week, my writing has been almost non-existent. I haven’t even had time to write down my daily accounts! No wonder then that there haven’t been any visitors to this space. After all, who would like to visit a blank space?

Looking back, it can be put down to two reasons: living in the moment and majorly failing at my No.1 resolution of the year – losing weight.

The difficulties of living in the moment

While living in the moment has kept me from this blog, another distraction has been my continued effort to lose weight. One of the New Year resolutions which most of us make was to lose weight. And like many people, this resolution has come to naught by the middle of the year. This failure has also added to the general feeling of blah that has kept me away from my personal space.

A MOMENT IS LIKE AN ACCORDION Photo by Yan Krukau on Pexels.com

The reasons might sound lame, but as we all know, I’ve been too busy not only living but living in the moment. All this living can be called overwork. Strange as it may sound, I think each moment actually consists of several micro-moments, and trying to consciously live each one to the fullest can be quite a fiddle.

Much like an accordion, the moment seems to expand as you try and fit in ‘living’ every bit of the moment. This happens every second, every minute, every hour and every day till finally a month goes by living in this stretchable moment.

Does this sound confusing? Not really because if you analyse it, living a daily life takes up to 24 hours, and adding in a few unplanned events, the time becomes even more difficult to control.

And I’m not just talking about the emergencies or contingencies but a simple thing like watching the sunset: when you consciously look around and appreciate the sky, the clouds, and perhaps a few birds flying home; while you feel the breeze on your cheeks or wipe away a stray bead of sweat, a line from a verse may surface in your mind. Thus, living in the moment can take a lot of effort and ‘time”.

Climate change and losing weight

MAKE A SPLASH
Photo by Sarah Schorer on Pexels.com

Contrary to what people believe, climate change not only affects the world, it affects the people too. At least it has definitely addled my brains.

For instance, 25 C was the hottest it was in my Mumbai while growing up. waAt best it may have touched the occasional 30 C . This summer, however, it reached 40 and just occasionally slipped ten degrees lower. For the first time I understood the phrase ‘Mad dogs and Englishmen’ and being neither of the two, actually stayed home for the better part of the day. I even did something hitherto never done – darkening my room in the afternoon and catching a siesta.

Why losing weight in the summer is a bad idea

The intense summer had made it difficult for me to step out even with the early morning sun because the glare was untenable. I was compelled to make my 10,000 steps, with sunglasses. In addition, I had to carry my water bottle to keep myself hydrated…

How I longed to find a less tedious way of melting away the fat.

The answer came to me one evening as I sat by the poolside watching Ms. Papaya and her friends splash in the pool. I wished I could join in. One of the regular old aunties who waddled around the pool with a noodle, invited me to jump in.

Swimsuits and Noodles

I had a ready excuse: I didn’t have a suitable swimsuit. For years I used to look at my swim suit and wonder why it was so difficult to put on. Was it because of my injured arm which though fixed, still plays up from time to time and makes it difficult to pull up the straps? Or was it because the costume was too tight?

I was being an ostrich refusing to accept the fact that I needed to get a new swimsuit.

Finally, I took the metaphorical plunge and went to Premson’s Bazaar where the salesman promptly pulled up the perfect swimsuit. It checked all the boxes for me: it was Navy but not black, so it would enhance the illusion of slimness, it had pretty white flowers – a print that always cheers me up and it had a skirt that covered up my thighs. But it was 3XL!

What happened to the barrier I had sworn never to cross ?

But worse still horrifying how did the salesman could size me up with just a glance and pick out the perfect size????

I bought it nonetheless in a bid to whittle down the X’s to an L.

So for a while, I walked up and down the pool in my new swimsuit with my new friends and a pink pool-noodle.

And then came the rain

Just as I was getting comfortable in this routine, the rains came upon us. Unlike the normal Mumbai monsoon that comes on 7th June, this year it played truant. And when it came, it was an unusual monsoon . For a large part of the day, dark, heavy clouds would hover over the city, making the heat more oppressive. But the clouds stayed where they were, gathering ominously , waiting perversely to begin an incessant downpour on the weekend.

Though the rains were welcome, this year it rained and rained much more than expected. The IMD ( which we used to ignore for their notoriously wrong predictions) issued flood alerts twice and the city stayed shut for a few days! What happened to the good old Mumbaikar’s Never Say Die spirit?

I remember those school girl days arriving at school, drenched to the bone yet shivering through the day with other children who braved the rain because we were never encouraged to stay home even on a very wet day. “Rain holiday” hadn’t been invented those days and by the time the last straggler stumbled into class by lunch time, the Principal would announce a half day with a caveat that school would remain open the following day.

And the average Mumbaikar plodded on too. Despite train services being cancelled, or people being washed away through open manholes, we braved it all.

Climate change has impacted all of us .

Do raincoats really help?

While the rain were a welcome relief from the heat, the raindrops that would begin to fall just as I set out to walk were rather annoying. I hated that light shower cap of crystal droplets on my hair and carrying an umbrella was quite pointless. So once again I went off to the shop to get myself a raincoat from Decathalon at Atria Mall.

But this raincoat, light though it was made me sweat more because of the heat trapped in while I walked and the hood came over my eyes making it hard to see where I was going.

I then resorted to my last option: walking in the refuge space in our building with the other residents going round and round, trying to avoid banging into each other while the “fat” melted away.

With whimsical weather thwarting my attempts at losing weight, and living in the moment, don’t you think it is challenging to find time to write in this space?

Ciao

p.s. Hope you had a happy Independence day.