ACP Vasant Dhoble of Un/social Service Branch...????

The Scenario:

Assistant Commissioner of Police Vasant Dhoble, 57, has been accused by his severest critics of trying to Taliban-ise Mumbai. Mr Dhoble, who heads the Mumbai Police's Social Service branch, has been credited with the title of Mumbai’s Night Raider who is Usually armed, often with cameras, at least once with a hockey stick, Mr Dhoble arrives to enforce what many in the city believe are archaic laws.

Enforcing laws on bars, hookah joints, lodges indulging in sex trade, pubs and food joints. The use of Bombay Police Act to enforce law has not gone down well with several communities especially in South Bombay.

Many outlets and joints were booked under the Bombay Police Act, 1951, the Bombay Shops and Establishments Act, 1948, the Prevention of Cigarette and Other Tobacco Products Act and the Prevention of Immoral Trafficking Act.

Backed by state home minister R R Patil, and with Mumbai Police Commissioner Arup Patnaik Dhoble says criticism does not affect him. I was appalled over the flouting of rules when I started raiding several points said Dhoble.

Media Attention

On June 8, Dhoble raided Cafe Zoe in Lower Parel, claiming that the establishment was playing loud music without a proper license and that the place was overcrowded, citing a rule of the Bombay Police Act which states that only 166 patrons can be accommodated in a 1,000-sq-ft area.

On June 5, Dhoble also courted controversy after the SSB raided Masala Curry, a restaurant in Andheri (West) and detained 11 women on suspicion of being involved in a prostitution racket.

After these two raids Dhoble became a nationwide debate with all the TV news channels showcasing Dhoble with a hockey stick shoving away a Bar’s manager, and vandalizing premises. Prime time coverage was given to Vasant Dhoble’s raids and was monitored frequently by news rooms.

Media and Public reaction.

Basically after the uproar over Dhoble raiding several places citing illegal activities, 2 major groups developed, one which was supporting Dhoble of his sincere duties to safeguard rights of the citizens and the 2nd group which said was leading to end the night life of Mumbai and the use of Archaic laws was an injustice done to several people. People were on roads protesting against Dhoble while another group was applauding for his raids.

In a scathing editorial in its mouthpiece 'Saamna' The Sena Chief Bal Thackeray Accused Dhoble of being Possessed and keeping the whole of Mumbai as hostage. ACP was also termed as mafia.  

Nothing wrong in imposing right values by Mumbai Police said The Hindu in the Editorial.

India today termed him as Mumbai’s Night Raider.

While Mid-day strongly criticised him in the articles titled “ Unsocial Service of ACP Dhoble”, in which he was compared to Hitler.

Manuela Saldhana, 48, Social worker from Bandra wrote an article for Hindustan times stating “We salute you, Mr Vasant Dhoble, and appreciated his ongoing raids in the locality.

Several socities and community groups came forward  to support Dhoble , Bandra Khar residents group were in the forefront supporting the moral policing by the SS branch.

Uproar on Social Networking sites.

A Facebook page called 'Dhoble - Oppressor of the Innocent Public' has 20,000 members.  Writer and commentator Pritish Nandy has described him as 'Public Enemy No 1' on Twitter.

While ACP Dhoble trended in all over India with people criticising him with satire as well terming him as Desi Batman.

(An assignment for Journalism and Public Opinion)

Rave a New Rage..!!

Blaring music amidst the cacophony of skimpily dressed girls, patrons getting drunk, inhaling substance, injecting syringes and dancing to the tune of Dum Maaro Dum seems to be the perfect setup for a bollywood movie. Reel life scenes now made real as Rave Parties are turning into a wild rage with several lives falling prey to fatal drugs. 
It is a well known fact that RAVE PARTY culture is spreading alarmingly in the big cities of our country.


Originated


Basically,rave is an electronic music dance party that lasts all night. Featuring DJs or live music performers. Raves usually take place in dark rooms filled with laser lights and strobes.
These parties originated in Rome nearly 2500 years ago when Roman men of means partied with women slave and mistresses. It was not a simple party as at this party all the participants consumed intoxicating drugs and wine. The idea was to really enjoy the party and make sex in exotic manners as the slaves and mistresses frequently exchanged partners for sex and involved all inhuman forms.The term is derived from the Jamaican word for party, rave, However the true rave parties didn't begin until the 80s era in India.
Statistics suggest 70 to 73% of drug abusers are youth (16 to 35 years of age).There are currently approximately 3 million drug addicts in India, therefore the number of youth who regularly use drugs is just over 2 million. Drugs like methamphetamines and hallucinogens do rounds in such parties. The use of date rape drugs, like the infamous Ketamines have increased drastically. 




Experts say:

"When asked teens why they use drugs, the answers varies from rebellion, boredom, to relax and simply just to experience it. Many agreed that after wanting to just try it, they liked the feeling and decided to continue using" said Ashley Narducci an activist for Anti Drug Abuse.
These drugs are banned as they dull the senses and a man or woman is not aware of his or her actions once under the influence of these drugs.Such narcotic drugs are not only banned in India but in the USA and Europe as well, said she.


Legal experts, who has handled numerous rave party cases, said the real culprits, the peddlars go loose and are never caught against whom conviction can be secured.
“The guests are mostly consumers of the contraband. They are charged under section 8 (c) of the Narcotic Drugs and Psychotropic Substances Act (NDPS) Act, which is slapped on those found with a minimal quantity of contraband with the maximum punishment of six months imprisonment,” said advocate Shekhar Bhandary, an expert in handling cases under the NDPS Act.   

The Infamous Oakwood Raid.

As many as 44 out of 92 people rounded up during a high-profile rave party at Oakwood Premier Hotel in Juhu on May 20 have tested positive for drugs.

Police received samples for 46 of the 92 people, who attended the ‘sundown’ party. 44 of 46 males tested positive for drugs consumption.
Since party-goers are not accused of possessing ‘commercial quantity of drugs’, they would get bail after such arrests.
All those who tested +ve will later apply for drug rehabilitation in a government hospital as per section 64 (A) of the Narcotic Drugs and Psychotropic Substances (NDPS) Act.
2 persons who tested negative for drugs are Ramayan director and Bolywood biggie Ramanand Sagar's grandson Amrit and film financier Harish Sughand's son Rahul. Out of the 44, who tested positive, 27 had consumed cannabis, one had MDMA (better known as ‘Ecstasy’, a drug usually taken in a pill form), while 16 had consumed MDMA along with cannabis.

My First Kiss....!!!

Her hair complementing her mascara spread eyes, spreading her hands to embrace nature,  her perfect white transparent wet shirt on her denim jeans, laughing, tickling, basking every drop of heavenly drops as she walked down the shores, Raindrops touching her smooth glowing skin. As she was fighting with her fine, black hair trying to tie with the finest quality of hair clip. Her hair blowing with the tune of the wind,still fighting and finally manages to tie it. Her fashionable blue sandal in hand; running down the shores enjoying every bit of moment spent together.
Yeah together...!!!
The lady of my dreams, the one i loved, the one i waited for so long, my soul partner; our souls entangled like beautiful petals. Her constant touches backed by goose bumps leaving me numb,
The perfectly tied hair running down her wet neck raised my already high testosterone levels. Heavy showers interrupt our eye contact as i dived in her resplendent eyes, as she turned away shying from the prolonged silence.
"Isn't rain beautiful?" she asked
Trying to break the strange silence.
"Rain is not beautiful without you", i said.
Trying to settle down the moment by giving a know-all smile.
This was the first time we were together so close, and deep in love.
While i gently held her soft hand she smiled looking on the other side avoiding my eye contact. As we stepped together in a different world. Our interlocked hands soon became a knot of love and i embraced her towards me. Clouds thundered even more louder, waves roared on the shores, I could hear her heavy breaths, her breasts touching my pounding heart, as my lips met with hers soft red lips, she chose to shut her eyes , the taste of her fully grown lips was like a freshly peeled orange. While i gazed at her but after some intimate moments, she opened her eyes to see me glaring at her. She went forward by giving me a bite on the neck.She did not cling, nor devour, but she met head on, an equal exchange of passion and energy. It was a kiss unlike any other, With a girl unlike any other. My lips runing down her neck while she caressed my back. Our lips still smacked under the blue open sky as gods showered their blessings and then...Splash...!! Splash...!!!
she was not there, she left me like always, left lonely with only water splashed by my brother trying to wake me up as i cursed, abused my brother with all the chosen gaalis.
The lady love vanished from the pleasant dream and i would miss her till the time i jump off to my bed.....!!

Fair Well

Silent tears,

Starry smiles.

Waving hands,

Unsaid goodbyes.

Million memories,

Tugging the heart.

Sweet and sad,

Merry and mad.

Dreams fulfilled,

Wishes granted.

New paths and new dreams,

Unexplored and expansive.

A wish on the lips.

A tear in the eye.

Looking back,

With a wistful smile.

I bid adieu and say,

Fair..Well.. my friends...!!!

Everything's changed, and most importantly the thing that has changed is "THE TIME"...The destiny has called upon me and i had my time...now's it's time for me to bid u goodbye.

The time we spent at our addas were pretty beautiful, the canteen gossips to fighting for project prep will never diminish from my mind. There were some things which i was unable to do/ say and its certainly mission unaccomplished. Let bygones be bygones...!!

A little bit of GYAAN....lena ho to lo varna jaane do...!!!

After our graduations we would creep for our own goals, the scenario can be easily compared to The sailing ships wondering in search of a destiny, a destiny so unexplored so unknown yet so real. Some ships might have conquered their home waters and ready to get the taste of the foreign lands while some would set out on a destination so unknown that only when they enter the waters they know how deep it really is! My friends,the ships are safer when anchored at the shores but they are not meant for that!

F

or enlightened minds I just want to say,Talk to people whom you have never talked to before and actually listen. Let yourself fall in love, break free, and set your sights high. Hold your head up because you have every right to. Tell yourself you're a great individual and believe in yourself, no one else will believe in you. Create your own life and then go out and live it.It's a different world outside.......You will only realize how big the world is when you walk alone in search of a destination so unknown to you. A world where only 1 rule pertains "survival of the fittest". A world so fluctuating where you get lost in your own thoughts, the only thing that remains with you my dear friends is "HOPE".

Well, I will leave you all with two words which can give a new meaning to your lives, a new direction to sail, a hint of the unexplored territories, the final words my friends 

"Stay Hungry! 
Stay Foolish´!

Today as I stand over here and look out to my wonderful friends a smile crosses my face with a tear in the eye.....

Two years ago our journey started at KES college. 

Together we made it through a stream of semesters and assignments, 

The strength of our class was very less, but the memories are countless. Strangers to each other we walked in and hand in hand we survived the great falls.

There were times we laughed, we cried, we screamed with joy. We participated as a team, won together, the feeling of victory, the excitement, all these moments we’ve shared are just priceless.

The feeling of having wonderful people around us was very beautiful. But the pain of moving away from them is even greater. But as we say everything’s a part of life as it goes on.

A beautiful journey comes to an end with hugs once again and promises to keep in touch....!!

“जिंदगी में किस हद तक जाना है ये कौन जानता है,

किस मंजिल को पाना है ये कौन जानता है,

दोस्ती के दो पल, जी भर कर जी लो,

किस रोज बिछर जाना है, ये कौन जानता है”

PS: Guys i hope the Admins would not kick me out of the KES TYBMM group after reading this post because i know i have screwed my farewell Post.

Magical Monsoon Of Mumbai

Scorching heat, sweaty and smelly shirt I loaded in the crowded train as I tagged along the pole to gasp for air which was followed by a rowdy voice which yelled at me “ Oye thoda Hawa aane de” forcing me to take a step back as I grinned and cursed the raging sun. On my way towards an interview, I was left with a tanned face and sweaty body, still struggling for fresh air in that crunched compartment. Somehow I clambered on the Railway Bridge to call for an auto, the bumpy ride on Mumbai’s traffic jam + potholed roads left me = with a backache which miffed me further. I presented myself to the interviewer but I think I dint click off well, I was expecting for his positive response though it didn’t work out and I was left with sheer disappointment.

The very next day I was back to work in a disappointed state, with the feeling of disastrous and embarrassing failure, still wandering for yesterday’s debacle, left with no answers but bewilderment. As I was trying to gain control on my bizarre thoughts, the sky was filled with dark clouds, Birds hurriedly flying to their nests, vehicles started moving swiftly, I could see children running to the terraces of their buildings, folks scrambling to get the clothes drying on the window’s cloth-line inside, and It left a smile on my face... It was time. Mumbai monsoon had arrived.

And within no time, it began raining... Heavily...! I ran straight to the terrace... The feeling when the first drops of rain trickled down my face, played maze through my hair, and wet my clothes, was... Amazing..!!. It was ecstatic, euphoric, happy, joyous and what not! Still, these words can't completely describe that feeling. You have to feel it, to know it.

Couldn't stop gazing at the orange sky... Wondering how it rained from within the sunny sky! Mist surrounded the far-ends of the city... The railway headlight was visible dizzying away...

Through the water, memories, moments, people, situations and events seemed to have a flash back in my mind... The gushing winds hitting the face... The striking of the raindrops with force against the eye-lids... Blissful..! Often, the pain you get when the raindrops hit your face with amazing force seems like a punishment that you don't want to get through. At others, it's sheer pleasure.

Suddenly, the sun set and I could see the colors of the sky change swiftly from orange to silver to dark gray... And that's when I returned back to home...

It was about everything else, too. It always is. It's about happiness. It's about love. It's about washing away the sadness. It's about a celebration.

It's something much more than just a rain... It's a way of life...

It never ends with the rain... It's a feeling that you take with yourself, for the rest of your life... It's the magic of it which surrounds your life...

It's the realms and dreams of a beautiful day, the way hope refills in us, the way we feel happy that's so magical about it... Yes, most of us love the monsoon. Beyond the wet clothes, wrong timed rains, wet footwear, puddles of water, cold, cough and fever that usually follows, we all love it... 

Rising From The Ashes..!!

BANDRA SLUM FIRE

5th March 2011

Flames gutted in the Gareeb Nagar slums leading to destruction of more than 1000 huts in Gareeb Nagar adjoining Behram Pada areas. As people were still trying to collect their belongings especially their ration cards and documents which could prove that they are residents of Mumbai. Authorities were seen facing the wrath of the slum dwellers because their response was tardy. Buckets of water and sand were poured successively. To calm down the blazing fire.
Kids were seen wailing as their mother was trying to collect belongings as much as she could. The memories were burnt to ashes and only hopes were their last resort.



                                                                  
                                           5th March 2012

Oh!! here it is again. Should i appreciate their courage as they are brave to overcome a life threatening tragedy. OR i should call them foolish as they have reformed their bastis again where the same incident could strike again risking their lives. 

Rising of new Era!!

WELL!! the people living here basically are from different parts.Some are Bangladeshis, some from Nepal and some from nowhere.. I mean its still unknown to them!! They settle here for limited period, paying rents and enjoying Mumbai life.These people have low income but high spirits. Some proprietors of the shanty stay off in some remote areas and just collect the rents which are way higher then the rents in remote areas.The owners have regenerated their shanties in such a way that it could anytime crash down, endangering their lives. But their willingness to continue to survive at the place where their memories of both happy and sad moments flourish. One plus two cement roof, unauthorized constructions has thereby increased the slums in these area. 
                                                

               And now it is almost 3-4 floors above ground

God forbid.. another tragedy awaits as these slums have dangerously overshot the limited space for them which has thereby risen to 3-4 floors above ground level. These developments often go unnoticed by the officials and when a catastrophic event occurs they are seen nowhere, leading to delays and more damage. If they keep monitoring these developments they would rectify serious issues in these slums thus preventing major destruction. Just imagine, if a fire breaks out or the temporary structure built crashes down... How could a fire brigade engine reach to the spot?? The lackadaisical approach of slum dwellers and authorities could lead to another BANDRA SLUM FIRE EPISODE!!

Mumbai Threatened

Rickshaw.. wait bloody.. , hey ruko, stop...!! i yelled. But not even a single rick turned back. It was 9 pm, peak hour where Mumbaikars rush towards train, bus and cab stations. I was at one of the secluded place in town where rickshaws were ample but they were really not interested in me I suppose!! I decided to give a shot in walking towards the train station but my mind replied back negatively as during this point of time travelling in trains is just like a battle to be fought. I said lets try once to stop a rick, i glanced on the road, an empty rick was approaching, bhaiya station jaana hai i pleaded..he nodded in return and now i was prepared for a jumpy, back aching ride on mumbai's potholed roads. In the meantime i was ready for  a journey of approx 20-25mins to my destination. I recently heard of Mumbai's Auto Union strike so i just gave a common man's piece of mind by poking him about the bandh fiasco. He replied in a vague manner that he only knew that he has to earn a living for his family. "We never declare strikes its just netas who create trouble in our lives" now in tone to show his protest aginst these strikes. I asked him if he knew leader of the rickshaw union? he said i have been driving in Mumbai for past five years and have never seen or heard about him but i know his name... its Sharad Pawar...!! i was astonished as i heard him.. Kya bola aapne?? Sharad Pawar he quickly replied. I made a quick correction there, and said its Sharad Rao..There was quietness in the air.. He started again on the very next signal, spitting off his paan, he said Saheb, we are just slaves, we slog on these roads, then pack off home only to realize nothing is gonna change. Regional differences,potholed roads, strikes, corrupt hawaldars are our added woes, atleast i am not the one who demands strikes, strikes leads to our losses. But these leaders don't understand and we are just their puppets who give them political mileage.
 I said then why the heck you go off roads?? drive and earn your living, why trouble common man? Now i was in a mood to give a tough fight. Common man V/s Rickshawalla. He said, we are forced to go off roads either they smash us or our ricks. You tamper your meters and avoid short distance trips.. fuming like he was the sole culprit. Saheb, we slog for long day facing several risks everyday, the rent of the vehicle, repairs, petrol, CNG, etc... we hardly earn a good amount after daily struggle. I reached my destination paying him the fare, i moved into railway station for another fight.
I Realized how handfull of goons sabotage life of Mumbaikars. Leaders just gain their political mileage through agendas like region, religion, demands. In a recent headline i read Sharad Rao Gives Ultimatum To The Government. That means another strike and to hinder lives of Mumbaikar.Who the Fu#* Is he?? The bloody neta who don't give a fuck if an autowallah dies hungry on roads. Strikes just fumes Mumbaikar and one day we would go on strike and YOU bloody asshole will remain off road. I mean why does Mumbaikar never comes forward like he did during every crisis.. Give Sharad Rao his shit and throw him out. Ultimatum!! huh.. The person who owns a bungalow, enjoying his rich life why would he give a damn to what an autowallah is facing.
Its high time that we allow our lives to be controlled by these handfull of morons.

Ban Ekta Kapoor.

 It was a usual morning but unusual beginning of the day as my anger which was building up since 5-6years ago crashed on my mom. My anger was all about Ekta Kapoor serials and crying shit which is making my life sucking and i feel like loser because my mom gets glued to this bloody Rona-Dhona and i suffer as i don't get lunch, dinner and even a cup of tea on time. Now you would say i am blithering and just dragging a small stupid situation like a chewing gum but seriously its making my life hell. Morning fights ruins your whole day and yes it did happen! It RUINED my day. As i saw my mom glued to one of the program showing some courtroom drama, i just went up to her and said let me watch some news channel as its my daily routine but she just snatched away the remote and started screaming. How rude!! Why was that for just to see a courtroom buff which she knows is reel??
Now i just got pissed as i switched the main button off to show my ire and sneaked into bathroom. She was still screaming that i turned the mains off. After a prolonged silence i came out , Brush in hand, remote on the other, i again switched the TV on and sat to listen some hindi songs. After some time i went to take bath as i came out i just balled over as i saw her again glued to that Ekta stuff. Now it was getting off my hand Ekta was sabotaging my family. I was supposed to hurry down at office as i was already late and Mom was supposed to pack my Lunch box. I asked her twice.. No RESPONSE.... i just fumed and picked up the remote and BANG!Pieces scattered, battery under the bed and damage beyond repair!! She shouted.. Dad intervened, pushed me aside.. it looked like Kushti ka akhada. Finally TV off... I took my bag, wore my shoes and i just walked off. So now i had no lunch box and i was planning for Anna ka Anshan against Ekta Kapoor for making crap serials, mood was arrghh..!!to bang someone like a remote.
Controlling my anger just reached the office, My colleagues sensed something was wrong and preferred to stay away from angry young man, Silence was kind of unknown thing until i fumed like angry bull. Signal sent Imran ko kuch hua hai!! I could feel that, still gave a blind eye.
I decided to stay off lunch and to not even eat a morcel...
"Imran just come have lunch" said one of my colleague
No yaar i am not hungry will eat later.. felt proud to say that.
Lunch over, me hungry, everyone settled, but i wasn't now i am hungry, searching for some good junk food to fill my stomach i just went out searched the vicinity nothing impressed me so i decided to go to one of the Dosa center nearby, "Dosa nahi hai", said Anna in his south Indian accent.
"Medu vada dedo,"
The outlet was famous for its yummy sambhar and i was still mesmerising the taste while in the backdrop banging of the remote flashed in my mind... i finally ended my Anshan...!!
Aha!! my stomach rejoiced within as i gulped my bottled water. During my starvation period this was my moment of joy and this is for Anna- My Savior.
But one thing i know i would really not forgive EKTA KAPOOR for ruining my day!!

Unfair fairness creams..!!

The day seemed blurry as I started, the result of my half sleep mode. The day seemed promising,long and hard day. It took me great efforts to build pace as I was still thinking on the lines to beat it and go back to the badly needed snooze.
The regular seven minutes walk brought me to the station.The platform was crowded, people hustling down the train, I hurried down to my usual compartment as I had already missed one. The next train was after five mins which I presumed as ten mins because its Indian railways and it’s a regular case of trains running late. The announcement came, the train arriving on platform no. 1 for Virar is running late. I said, Holy shit!! I will be screwed if I don’t reach in time as always I tend to reach office after the reporting time. The train arrived, my habit of standing on footboard made me stand on the corridor, pushing, pulling and finally a woman with a child got pushed and started cursing with chosen abuses at the passengers departing, but that day I creeped inside the train passage and stood below the roof fan which was guzzling out warm air.

I gazed in the compartment as usual and I noticed a boy, he seemed 20-21 years old, brown in color , lean and well dressed, a black coloured bag in hand, tagged along with a friend and was busy gibbering to his friend  and from amidst his animated conversation he removed a tube, pressed its nozzle and the blob of white cream popped in his hand he spread the white cream on his hand and started massaging his face. I suppose it was Fair and Lovely fairness cream.  In front of that boy was a middle-aged woman, talking as softly as she could to her hubby and the chat suddenly came to a standstill and both gave an awry look to the guy they were amazed by this unaccustomed act. And she ensured that she doesn't spill out the beans by laughing her heart out and so did I. 
This little incident made me think how Indian Men are conscious about their dark complexion. When i googled about Fairness cream market in India for Men I came across a huge disbelief -500 Crore Rupees and in South India the market has grown by 35% for men and mere 15% for women. One of the website which is into match-making business had 3 primary questions on the form:
1) Name
2)Caste
3)Fairness.
I was still coming to terms about this crap and as i scrolled down i came across a research expert who said -
"Parents, bride and grooms don't even reach up to the column on educational qualifications or job if the partner is not fair."
Does that mean a guy pursuing higher studies has zero value if he is dark? A girl is judged mere by her fair complexion?? 


Be it a college goer or a corporate person, none have been left untouched by this grooming fad with a keen desire to look fair. Indian cosmetic companies and marketers have strongly hooked on to this opportunity.
The media has played a major role in pushing men in this direction, as ads promoting fairness creams seek to portray that dark skinned guys lack confidence and are not as successful as the fair-skinned. These ads are pointed needles and penetrates hard in the minds to the Dark complexioned Indian Men.


GROW UP INDIAN MEN... Black Is Beautiful and I really mean it..!!

Did Somebody say....... RAPE..????

According to the Mumbai Police’s records, a total of 219 rape cases were registered in the city last year compared to 192 cases in 2010. The number of rape cases has, in fact, risen steadily over the past three years, with the figure being 178 cases in 2009.

Mumbai saw a 14 per cent jump in rape cases in 2011, further damaging its reputation as a safe city for women. It also saw a 23 per cent hike in the number of cases registered for outraging the modesty of women last year.That meant that women were not safe in the city of Dreams.

Her retro tiny digital wrist-watch showed 12.30am. A wet shopping bag in hand, trying to arrange her messed up wet hair. It was raining cats and dogs; there was an uncomfortable and eerie stillness in the air; all you could hear were the rain drops. It was past midnight; her shift had ended; there was no soul in sight as she waited for her cab. It had been just over a month since Reema started working in the Call center much against her parents’ wishes.

As she waited for her cab; her mind rushed back to outrageous, gruesome, horrific stories she had heard about rapes and murders in this part of the town. She was dripping wet in the rain, and in the fear of the known- unknown! The rain God didn’t show any signs to subside nor the cabbie or city bus was in sight. Ironically the street lamp next to the stop she was waiting in started to flutter. It was right out of the scene of a Mahesh Bhatt horror flick, and  the part just before the arrival of the demon. Of course this was her real life and not a movie for her to close her eyes and pass through the spine-chilling parts of serious night in Mumbai.

The wind grew wilder, thudding sound of the lightning, the raindrops bigger but there was no end to her frightful wait. The cabbie was not picking up her calls and she could not even find an auto to take her back to her office or even to her home. Newly arrived beautiful girl in town hardly knew anyone who could come to her rescue at this uncanny hour. Diverting her mind off the loneliness and still trying to calm down her nerves taking steps as fast as she could, Chaph-Chaph the water splashed as she stepped forward the only creepy sound she could hear were her footsteps.
Reema saw a Qualis approaching her. She froze in fear from the stories of women being forced into such cars and driven around city while being raped. She wished she had listened to her folks and not relocated to take such a job. She cursed her decision as she frantically sought an option to not fall prey to another such incident and become just another statistic in these ever increasing reports of crimes against women.

Running out of options she finally took out the pepper spray and a pointed object. The beam of light came closer and closer, light beam clearly showed raindrops falling on the ground.As the Qualis stopped near her and the glasses rolled down, still avoiding the intervention; she began to hum  Hanuman Chalisa and pointed the pepper spray towards the car window ready for the assault to save her modesty. There it was, moment to give a daring look, the do or die hour for her. As she was about to press on the nozzle, and shout for her life... a lady in a kind voice spoke from within the car. It was her manager! It wasn’t a rapist or a murderer. It was someone who knew her and stopped to offer her a lift home! She heaved a sigh of relief, the feeling of being raped, molested  subsided. As she accepted the lift; She knew she couldn’t ever be gladder to see her manager then that night! It was as if someone above had made sure of her safety. 


Like Reema there are thousands of ambitious women who tremor walking down the streets of Mumbai during late hours.
Does that mean women should not have ambitions just because a species called MEN is out there to rape a decent woman, a women  who is striving to fulfill her dream, The modesty of women is her pride and that should be respected. Mere Figures and statistics counting would not curb crime against women. The city of dreams they say Never Sleeps is actually being defamed by some night predators.
Its time we stand for change..!! Demand A place for safe commuting for women....
Because Not every girl is lucky like Reema!!

Think Out Of Your Tiffin Box!!

           The day starts by supplicating God Khandoba as he knows that the day would be restless, long and even risky as they would cruise down the busy lanes of crowded Mumbai. Meanwhile the better half is ready with bhakri, kaanda and chutni nicely packed,  and wrapped in a tiffin parcelled so that her dear soul mate doesn't stay empty-bellied. 

           Clad in dhoti, Gandhi cap, long mustache and chewing pan with a large tray of steel tiffins is the unassuming dabbawala who is set out to his work with a strong commitment - To serve the hungry office goers. The devotion, timely service and the most important yummy homemade cuisine makes the day a bit comfortable.

          Though outdated modes of transport like the push cart or the large tray full of tiffins, or the tiffin-laden bicycles, this system of delivering lunch tiffins to lakhs of people across the city has been going on since the 19th century, The concept of the dabbawala originated when India and Pakistan were under British Rule. Many British people who came to the colony did not like the local food, so a service was set up to bring lunch to these people in their workplace straight from their homes.

       I would not be describing what makes dabbawalla a punctual rescuer, or how hard they work because all is said and done in the past with records and honors conferred to the dabbawalla community. Here is a take on how a dabbawalla survives the odds and makes the ends meet. 

        Ready to cruise in their comfort savaari- the loyal bicycle awaits as their master hops onto it and starts the hectic day to collect the Dabbas from every nook and corner daring the rough weather collecting bagpacks from loving wife to a caring mother and the supply chain ( the word when asked often gives you bewildered looks) begins. 

    They everyday participate in the obstacle race and then hurry through Mumbai's jerky potholed roads, crowded locals and busy traffic, climbing up and down the tall buildings often getting stuck in the lifts, but they defeat them everyday one by one and the race against time ends as the Dabba reaches the ultimate consumer-Dabbawalla emerges as a winner. 

The feeling of satisfying someones hunger makes dabbawalla larger than life with the 

Mantra "ERROR IS HORROR !!" 

PS:  Each dabbawala, regardless of role, gets paid about two to four thousand rupees per month. In 2002, Forbes Magazine found its reliability to be that of a six sigma standard.More than 175,000 or 200,000lunch boxes get moved every day by an estimated 4,500 to 5,000 dabbawalas, all with an extremely small nominal fee and with utmost punctuality. According to a recent survey, they make less than one mistake in every 6 million deliveries.

Sharada Within Bombay

She was 69 and suffering from flu for a week. On 6 February 2012 she was rushed to Bombay Hospital when her condition took a turn for the worse. She died on the way passing thru the by-lanes of Bombay. 
The lanes and passages she was so conversant with. Sharada Dwivedi the lone living legend was now no more.  
Sharada Dwivedi, eminent historian , researcher and author, was hailed as one of the few who opened Bombay up to its people. Dwivedi was a product of this city (educated at Queen Mary's School, Sydenham College and Bombay University, where she earned her degree in Library Science);

(Authored by Sharada Dwivedi
and Rahul Mehrotra)

 The panoramic coffee-table book she authored with Rahul Mehrotra-Bombay: The Cities Within (1995)-was a watershed publication, breaking the old mould of 'city histories' with its conversational prose, breathtaking sepia images and broad detail. Other histories that followed (often co-authored) included works like Banganga the sacred tank at the Malabar Hill, Fort Walks, and most recently The Taj At Apollo Bunder. 
 She lived and breathed monuments of Mumbai. She was familiar with every minute detail of the old and neo-gothic structures of the city. History as though unfolded to her. She belonged to Bombay which in return belonged to her. She was a true Bombay-ite who even refused to use the term Mumbai. She loved its culture deeply. And this reflects in her work. The sheer knowledge and understanding she brought to a subject which even most seasoned city planners and politicians of today neglect greatly. 
She loved the streets and by-lanes of the city that was her home, and she dared go beyond to protect the historic identity of Bombay. She has researched history of all the famous monuments and buildings of the city and was always caring for the conservation work. She tirelessly raised funds and created awareness for heritage buildings and championed causes related to the city. She was actively involved with the Urban Design Research Institute, Kala Ghoda Association and other citizen groups. 



Sharadaji, you still endure in the heart of Mumbai. The many researchers you inspired, the students you helped, the conservationists you generously shared your knowledge with, the heritage lovers you introduced the city by your work will all miss you....but most of all, the city of Bombay shall miss you as you were the one who loved and worshiped it the most.


                  May Your Soul Rest In Peace. Thanks for enriching our lives...