400053 – 922

The Balcony Story

The house that I grew up in Delhi, we have this fairly large balcony. Fairly large by Mumbai standards. Smallish by Delhi. But there was a balcony. And that meant that I grew up with this habit of waking up and going to the balcony to stretch and breathe in the “fresh” air. I did it every day for like 30 years at the subconscious level that it became second nature!

When I moved to Mumbai, I was lucky to have started living in Nahar. That meant that I had a 2-feet wide thing for a balcony. Of course that was a luxury in Mumbai and I loved it! I was there for close to three years. The habit that I grew up with stayed on.

Then the move to Bandra happened – the worse house I’ve ever lived in. If you are reading this, the house could have the best location ever but do NOT live in an old, crumbling house. So in Bandra house, leave alone a balcony, I did not even have a window. And I hated it.

I was there for a year or so and then I ran back to open spaces that Ghatkopar had. This house, where I was for two years had a balcony as well. Though it was designed more like a room without a wall, it still gave the feeling of being in a balcony. And that meant I was back to my habit that I had grown up with. And then bad times started hitting. Moved to a small house without a balcony. And now, in Andheri, of course, there’s no balcony.

The point of this mile-long prologue?

That, today when I woke up, I for some reason yearned to have this ability to walk around in a balcony and stretch and breathe in. Still better I would love to have a beach that I could just step in. Or a large expanse that I can step out in and soak in the infinite and breathe in the fresh air that is up there close to the mountains!

I dont know what brought this feeling back to the surface. But it bubbled up somehow. And it is strong and powerful. To a point that I can distinctly feel it. And it was strong and powerful. To a point that I am ready to kill for it. You know, like, really!

Maybe someday.

Till then, over and out!

There and Here

Hello, world! Today I want to talk about the adaptability of human life. Seen from my lens.

What do I mean by this?

Well, I recently moved from a place where I lived for close to three years. And because I was there for three years, I had made more than a casual acquaintance with the people that lived and worked around there – apart from regular suspects like the neighbors, the residents, I also made got to know the people that worked there – you know, the security staff, the Starbucks Baristas, the grocery guy, the chemist and so on and so forth. After all, we are but social creatures.

So when I was making the decision to move from there to a new place, far away, one big criterion was this proximity to familiarity. I mean I was like, I’d have to do a lot of work to find new connections, get familiar with people, find my permanent place at the coffee shops, etc.

Now, its been about 15 days since I made the move. And you know what? I don’t miss the people or the place that I left behind. In fact, I am enjoying the new place. Not the house or space per se. But the locality that I’ve moved to. There is this sense of familiarity (after all we are in Mumbai, India) and there is this newness. The way it is with a new fling.

Plus, I am walking a lot more. I am seeing new people. Doing things that I would (and could) never do previously. And I think, more than anything else, Andheri is a lot more… for the want of a better word, real!

I mean the place I lived at before this (Wadhwa) and the place I hung out most often (Powai), ~~people~~ everyone had such perfect and rosy lives that it was unbelievable. I would feel out of place. You know, how those poor people are uncomfortable stepping into plush showrooms of luxury brands? That.

Here, in Andheri, I see people that are a lot more common folk. There is heat & dust, good & bad, gorgeous men & unfit women, wannabes & famous people, rich & poor and a lot more. There is more, how do I say, heterogeny here.

Back there, everyone was the same – like a friend would say, each family had 2 cars, 2 kids, 2 houses, 2 perfect bodies, 2 hobbies apart from work, 2 club memberships, 2 pets, 2 relationships (in and out of home), etc. They were so perfect that even the oldies were fitter than most people I’ve known in my life. Plus the issues people had there were about which car to buy – Audi or BMW. No, not Merc. The conversations I would hear over the din of life were about which new restaurant to go to for brunch and if a 15-day holiday in Europe better than that in America. I would know of the movers and shakers in the corporate world. And which actor is sleeping with which. I would not know about the dal roti ka bhao but I would know expensive the Kiwis and ~~Avocados~~ Avos are.

Since I have moved to Andheri, the things that I come across are people postulating about what moves the country and writers courting producers for scripts that they’ve taken 2 years to write and students pooling money to buy that one beer. People here are hustling hard to make ends meet. I now see those numerous idli-dosa stalls at 6 in the morning and a crowd of people jostling for space even when they can’t afford that 20 rupee breakfast. The restaurants I goto, the laughter seems a little more unrestricted, little more unbridled. Compare it to the suaveness of conversations around a plate that has just a morsel of food on it, often called culinary delight and artisanal. Yes, there are rich people. Probably richer – the maids are expensive here. Yes, there are as many luxury cars as I saw at Wadhwa, may be more – the largest Audi showroom is right here.

But the thing is, people here have a spring in their step. Back there, life was more leisurely. You know, brunches were more common than struggle to schedule life around when the BMC would supply water – yes there are places that do not have 24 x 7 running water. And no, I am not talking about different strata of people. The same middle-class household around here is a lot more active than it was back there. May be that wasn’t middle class and I am doing apples to oranges comparison? May be the Orange in me couldn’t fit in with the stack of Apples there? May be that’s why I don’t miss things there?

Staying on this fruity comparison, here, I can smell the real world, you know the world with all its vagaries and gifts? Some people call it the smell of Mumbai that hits them when they open the doors of the plane! There, it was all organic diffusers and Body Mists (which I dint even know existed) and Chanel’s No. 5.

Of course, a lot of things are still the same. There is the same harsh sun and magnanimous clouds. But there, the place had enough space to stare at the sky. Here, when you look up, you see buildings covering you and all you get is this sliver of blue. You know, how a bird must feel when it is still trapped in the egg in the cocoon!

In fact, when I was there, I’d tell this to a friend of mine often. That they lived in a cocoon. That thought has got a lot more reinforced after I moved here. That place was indeed a cocoon. Heck, the club there was called Club Cocoon!

Thing is, this sudden move from a place where I lived for three years, to this place where I am all of 15 days old, has opened my eyes. To things that I knew all my life but was never on the surface. I am wondering, the ones that move around a lot when they’re growing up, they’d have such rich experiences and opinions. They’d make such brilliant storytellers! Damn! I am jealous! Yet another thing that I did not have. Maybe if I were there, I would be better. Or maybe I wouldn’t even know that I ought to be better if I were there. This thing about them being better is in my head just because I am here. There. Here. There or here. There and here.

The mess in my head

I was not happy (Not unhappy. There’s a difference between not happy and unhappy) over the last few days. I was not even content, not at peace – the default state I want to be in. I could not put a finger on what was stopping me from being that. And I tried real hard to figure out but failed at it. I mean I am the kind that can sleep well even when I know that the world around me is crumbling. Or when I know that the world around me is gifting me EVERYthing that I have ever desired.

But for the last few days, I haven’t been sleeping well at all. To a point that I have this nagging, consistent, neverending mild headache. And of course, I am irritable. To a point that I am not talking straight to people that matter. And of course, I don’t like this. I have to have a cordial relationship with people. There’s nothing else that I care for more!

So, I continued with the investigation. I thought about everything that had changed in the last few days. And apart from the move to a new house, everything else seemed to be the same. The new house meant a new place, a new set of people that I’d nod at, a new Starbucks, a new neighborhood et at. What remained constant is the things I use at home, the clothes I wear, the food I ate, etc.

Just that I did not have the wardrobes and almirahs to place my things inside. And the new house still has all those boxes littered in various rooms. The curtains are yet to come. I am yet to find a maid to do the cleaning. No, I cant clean by myself. I mean there are some million chores to be done before the house becomes livable again. But these things can’t affect me.

Or can they?

I did everything I could to think of the reason and I almost tore whatever hair is left on my head.

I had no clue and was puzzled like hell about what was causing me discomfort. I was so frustrated and so angry that I threw my phone on a pile of clothes lying in one corner in the bedroom. And then after 10 microseconds, once I realized my mistake, I tried to search for the phone. The pile was so deep that it took me a while to locate the phone. And no, the screen did not break. And yes, I was wrong to have thrown my phone like that. As a kid, I would throw tantrums like this. I am way past that age now!

As I was hunting for the phone, the eureka moment happened for me. It dawned on me what was bothering me!

The mess in the house!
The untidiness.
The unorderliness.
All those boxes strewn all over the place.
All the dust that would rumble under the bare feet as you would walk.
That thin layer of dust on surfaces.
Dirty clothes that haven’t been washed in a while.
No order to how to things were arranged.

Of course, all this is temporary. I’ve just moved to a new place and it will be up and running in a few days. This is just the transition phase.

But if I reflect and think back, all these transitions have always made me miserable. Maybe this is the reason that every house I move into, I don’t like it? The dislike is not for the house per se but the mess that the movement accompanies! Fuck, epiphany!

In fact, if I go back in time to when I was a kid, I used to hate it when my parents got the house painted. We’d pile all our things in one room and spend time there as the painters worked in other rooms. And then we’d move all those things in the rooms that had got painted and then painters worked that one room. This entire process would mean there’s always mess and clutter and movement and all that.

I could not stand the mess back then. I can’t stand the mess now.

I like open spaces (which are of course hard to come by in Mumbai). I like cleanliness. I like order. And at the age I am at, I am averse to any change per se (and yes I want to learn and experience new things). And this moving houses is not just my cup of tea. Yes, I am all for living in new places. In fact #in2020, I will live in a new country. But the process of movement is not my scene.

When I say I want order and cleanliness, I don’t want to live in a fancy hotel room where everything is measured and placed at just the right place to add to aesthetic or comfort. Neither do I want to be a snob that will only like expensive, fancy things.

And no, I am not a sucker for familiarity. I just was cleanliness and order. You know, books arranged from shortest to tallest, containers stacked neatly, bed aligned in straight lines with other furniture, etc, etc. Long-time back, there was this ad where the guy would want absolutely round rotis and want to clip each stand in his beard to the same length. Don’t remember what was the ad. But I am that guy!

Anyhow. So, now I know what moving houses does to me, I need to list some lessons that I need to use when I move next. Here’s a list…

Lessons for myself?

1. Never take a house in a standalone building. Even if you have to pay a premium and you’d never ever use the facilities, take a house in a complex that has well-maintained amenities (like a swimming pool, a gym, etc).

2. When you are moving houses, before the house is settled and is up and running, stay in a hotel. Or crash at a friend’s place.

3. Pay extra for the movers and get a professional service. They would pack things well and handle stuff with care. Each time I have moved, movers have done a shoddy job with things. And I can’t handle incompetence.

4. ALWAYS insist on a semi-furnished house. Semi means wardrobes and appliances. Not furnishing. Never ever furnishings. They typically are worn and shitty. It’s ok to pay extra to avoid the heard-burn.

5. Reduce the number of things I own. I assumed that I have very few things but when I moved houses, I have some 20 boxes full of things. Books would be about 2 of those. But rest, I had no clue! With time, I will reduce things that I own. And now that my clothes are gone, I am gonna be very careful about buying new ones. I bought 4 shirts yesterday. I plan to buy 2 black shirts and that’s that for the next entire year.

6. Money is a tool that allows you to feel better and live better. If I could spend more money this time, I would’ve fixed all of the above. Honestly, I may not – I did not know these things myself. But next time, I will!

***

And that’s about it.

I hope next time I move, it is better.

I hope that now I know what had fucked my head, I would be a little more tolerable to people. And no the Mercury had nothing to do with this 😀