The big daddy is going to play in their home town. Mumbai meri jaan, yeah!
People say one of the common thread that unites India always is Cricket. And when the win is the end result of a nerve racking, pulsating and enthralling ordeal...we say worth the cans of beer we have made to add calories, worth the exorbitant rates we paid to have a glimpse of the stars in war and worth the incessant tension growling and racing our heart beats.
The V for Vendetta is won and hope the cup comes in our kitty!
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
Friday, March 25, 2011
Hieghty Affair!
Mumbai made me realize, yet another matter of fact!
The lofty building of metros have a story to tell. They are sky-rising and tall enough to hunt geese with a rake. They accommodate people and give jobs to needy. My husband says, you do not always need experience to catch a bull by it's horn. Tough life, teaches people to fly by the seat of its pants. But, when I look back to the migrants in the city of dreams, chasing day with night and vice versa; My thoughts in my mind and my heart separates like the humming birds, who never meet.
The tall buildings of India appoints lift men. They are those anonymous people, who are often called as "Lift". They are in your office, apartment block, malls etc. I see no need of them, for I can press the buttons effort-lessly. But, it becomes beneficial when my mother or grand mother use lift. For, they say they feel scared in the lift when they are alone!
I noticed a new liftman in my organization; maybe he was a pinch-batter for the former. I looked at him, smiled and thought- another new migrant to the city. The new brand was spanked by the older liftman we had. He told him to press buttons, like the way he does the entire day. "Do not miss out on pressing buttons. You better not commit mistake, or you get your knucles rapped. It is so simple. And, 'This' is your job". He affirmed and kept his rattling on. Seeing him responding submissively to the conversation; I wanted to conveniently withdraw myself from the conversation.
I met a foreign delegate in the office in the elevator. My etiquette vacillated between the points, and I reluctantly asked 'the lift man' to press seven. To which, my guest added: "Indians are extra ordinary, you have appointed people to press buttons of the lift".
The lofty building of metros have a story to tell. They are sky-rising and tall enough to hunt geese with a rake. They accommodate people and give jobs to needy. My husband says, you do not always need experience to catch a bull by it's horn. Tough life, teaches people to fly by the seat of its pants. But, when I look back to the migrants in the city of dreams, chasing day with night and vice versa; My thoughts in my mind and my heart separates like the humming birds, who never meet.
The tall buildings of India appoints lift men. They are those anonymous people, who are often called as "Lift". They are in your office, apartment block, malls etc. I see no need of them, for I can press the buttons effort-lessly. But, it becomes beneficial when my mother or grand mother use lift. For, they say they feel scared in the lift when they are alone!
I noticed a new liftman in my organization; maybe he was a pinch-batter for the former. I looked at him, smiled and thought- another new migrant to the city. The new brand was spanked by the older liftman we had. He told him to press buttons, like the way he does the entire day. "Do not miss out on pressing buttons. You better not commit mistake, or you get your knucles rapped. It is so simple. And, 'This' is your job". He affirmed and kept his rattling on. Seeing him responding submissively to the conversation; I wanted to conveniently withdraw myself from the conversation.
I met a foreign delegate in the office in the elevator. My etiquette vacillated between the points, and I reluctantly asked 'the lift man' to press seven. To which, my guest added: "Indians are extra ordinary, you have appointed people to press buttons of the lift".
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