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Monday, 23 November 2009
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Monday Musings -25
Last night, I watched the Saif Ali Khan-Kareena Kapoor starrer Kurbaan. While some of you may argue the finer points, or even detest the movie altogether, I think Kurbaan had a fine story to tell. The story of how the terrorist mastermind works, of how innocence gets sucked in, and the act of terror itself. It is as if Kurbaan recounted of us, what we wish we could forget.
I happened to watch Kurbaan the same week I have been documenting tales of some affected by the 26/11 attacks, for a short remembrance series with a news wire. An assignment that has humbled me, beyond measure.
So, as I watched Kurbaan I could hear the tears in the voice of Vaishali Omble, the daughter of Tukaram Omble who was killed whilst nabbing lone captured terrorist Ajmal Kasab. After an hour of talking back and forth, Vaishali admitted all she really wanted to do is die. "I would rather die, than live to face all of this," she said. Her mother doesn't step out of the house, her older sisters are married. She has no brothers.
As I watched Kurbaan I could go over the bullet markets at the Chabad House over and over again. It wasn't merely a case of killing those who died. Every little inch of the Nariman House wasn't spared of a bullet mark. Does your God even tell you to kill so brutally, I ask? The moment I walked in to the Nariman (Chabad House) it almost seemed like a thrilling-adventure trail.
But then, I could hear the deeply disturbing voice of a young city Jew, David. He is twenty-two; he saw and held the Rabbi's body. It is sacred to kill a Jew, according to them, he tells me. If you kill a jew, you go straight to heaven. Then, he says, "The Rabbi couldn't be dead. It seems as if he was still alive." But, he wasn't. He wasn't. Just like the names on the memorial that hangs inside the Taj.
As I walked its lobby, I wondered...could everything really be the same again? And, as I watched Kurbaan I wondered could this world we live in change at all? I could only remember being saved from a terrorist attack, the grace of being a compartment away. Each time, I recount the story with nonchalance. I was the one who got away.
But so many others are forced to go on. Forced to go on in "faith that there will be peace on Earth, as it is in heaven." Because, there is only faith to live on. Terror is all around. And, that is all I can think of this Monday.
[More Monday Musings here]
Wednesday, 18 November 2009
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30X30: The End
"Everything we do is fleeting. So unlike, everything we love."
That would be a fitting way to end 30X30. Thank you for staying with us.:)
[30X30 is a series of 30 unrelated posts in 30 days by Gayatri Makhijani and Anuj Gosalia. One post everyday, for the next 30 days. Follow the string here]
Tuesday, 17 November 2009
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30X30: The city sky
Down the corner of a building called Sea Mist in Worli Koliwada, Mumbai runs a little lane into many lanes. Shops and houses dot the land, surprisingly for Mumbai, there is enough room to breathe. Just before you enter, is a little stall that sells food. We are prancing around for any food, and we stumble upon this father-son duo. Crowds throng a little stall- that's made up of a table and a stool.
'How safe is this food,' reads the light in our eyes. The gentle man allows us to sample small dot-sized Dal Vadas. There are bigger ones too. And, there are samosas, you can tell they aren't typical. I ask him what they are made of: Poha, onions, potatoes and chillies..instead of the usual potato stuffing.
I am about to pick the samosas . When a piping hot bowl of aloo vadas arrives, and he dishes them out with a spicy green chutney. Between us, we share. A little sampling of all things unique at this little stall in Worli, Koliwada.
Go there, will you? And, when you do find your steps to the centre of the colony. It's an open space; in the evening young children are practicing their Karate moves. Their cries dance with the wind. And, right in front of you is the sea. And nearby, yet in the distance, is the Bandra Worli Sea link. At just the point when the breathtaking bridge flies into an architectural delight. Arched poles greet the city and the sky. Such a sight to be hold.
'But city people rarely look at the sky,' my companion tells me.
[30X30 is a series of 30 unrelated posts in 30 days by Gayatri Makhijani and Anuj Gosalia. One post everyday, for the next 30 days. Follow the string here]
Sunday, 15 November 2009
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30X30: Woman in Love
As I watch her, I remember the song by Barbra Streisand, 'Woman in Love.' She is draped in a beautiful black burka, her eyes standing out like moons in a night sky. Her fingers reach for her cellphone; she is checking the time. You can tell, she is waiting for time to go by. As she nears her destination, her fingers reach out for a mirror in her purse. She checks her make-up. Little hands dab sweet-smelling cream onto her flawless skin. Then, she uses kohl, and a tint of red on her lips. Once she is done, she pulls out a tiny bottle of Ponds Dream flower Talc and dabs it on her skin. The little pink bottle goes back into her purse.
She checks in the mirror, once again. Then, she repeats the ritual. Completing it with a dab of the same flower talc. And, then once again.
Three times in a row. Before she pulls out black lace gloves, torn slightly, and slips them on. My eyes lose her, and then she is gone. The lady in black, the woman in love.
[30X30 is a series of 30 unrelated posts in 30 days by Gayatri Makhijani and Anuj Gosalia. One post everyday, for the next 30 days. Follow the string here]
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- Name: shesturningblue
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- Member Since: 6/4/2008
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