Of Rains, Lightning and Power Cuts

Rim-jhim gire saavan, sulag sulag jaaye mannBheege aaj is mausam mein, lagi kaisi ye agan
(Lines from the song “rim-jhim gire saavan” written by Yogesh for the movie Manzil)
India is heavily dependent on the Monsoon, too little of it and we have a problem, too much of it and we have a problem. And this year, like other things Indian, the Monsoon arrived two weeks late. And finally when it did, it brought cheer all around. From the man on the street to the stock market, everyone rejoiced.
Last evening when I came back home from work, the sky suddenly grew dark and after sometime it was pouring. And then there was a big bolt of lightening which was immediately followed by a power cut. Déjà vu.
A touch of nostalgia to go with the rain..and the power cut….
This sent me back in time to the city I was born and brought up in – Ranchi. Ranchi as the social studies textbooks of yore would have told you, is a hill station. And what is a hill station without rains…and power cuts.
Every year after two months of scorching summer when temperature would touch the early hundreds and stay there, it would rain. And rains would bring life back into the city. The dull and dreary faces would all be smiling. Playgrounds, which wore a deserted look during summer, would be full of children playing football in rains (And believe me, no sport can match the exhilaration of playing football in rains). The complexion of the entire city would suddenly change from rust to green.
Of rainy afternoons flavoured with steaming ‘chai’ and hot samosas
There would be cyclists trying to avoid the pools of water that rains had managed to create and there would be children jumping in the same pools, splashing water on the passersby (cyclists included), who did not seem to mind. Hot tea and ‘garam samosas’ with chutney would be the flavor of the season. All the talk about the receding water level in the lake supplying water to the entire city would be replaced with how many millimeters it rained that day. Buffaloes could be seen enjoying a swim in ponds, which were dry till sometime back and were now overflowing with water.
The inevitable company of power cuts
From our eighth floor flat with farms all around, one could see grease lightening kissing the ground. And the first burst of lightening was enough to ensure a power cut. And in the evenings this would send one searching for a matchbox and a candle or a lantern. Many evenings have been spent studying in dim candle or lantern light (or improving concentration should I say). And when the rains stopped, the smell of the wet earth would come through, something that doesn’t happen anymore in the midst of all the concrete I have chosen to live in.
The rains in Ranchi were rejuvenating, yet there was certain anger about them. They hit the ground with a thud…a knockout punch. The romance was clearly missing.
The contrast
The city I moved to for my higher studies, Pune, lies on the leeward side of the Western Ghats. The clouds empty themselves over Mumbai and by the time they reach Pune, the heavy rains of Mumbai have converted into a drizzle. In Pune, in the truest sense of the word, it rains, it hardly ever pours. The romance that is missing in the rains of Ranchi can be found here. And it literally sucks you in. It’s the kind of rain you would want to go out in and get wet. Or go out for a walk arm in arm with your loved one under the same umbrella (Pune being a city where students from all over the country come to study, this is a fairly common sight in the parts of the city where students live).
The Rains in Hyderabad, the city I moved to make a living, like the city itself, promise to deceive, looking fairly good when they start off, but fizzle out very fast. It doesn’t really rain much in Hyderabad. In fact it rains more in Telugu movies than it does in Hyderabad And when it does rain, the place to go to is the Hussain sagar lake. When the first drops of rain hit the water in the lake it’s a sight not to be missed out on.
My nostalgia trip ends with the power being restored. And if you still haven’t realized, this article was written under candlelight, with heavy rains and lightning outside. Life has come a full circle for me.

Get your investment tips “locally”

If I ever leave the city of Mumbai, the one thing I will miss the most is taking the 10.08 Churchgate slow, from Andheri, every morning. Its been a little over two months since I landed up in this city and have since then taken a fancy to the city and its ubiquitous local trains. “ Agar local na hoti to is shaher ka kya hota”, I wonder.

After taking the local train to office for almost one week I realised how Mumbai and Mumbaikars, “eat, drink and breath”, the stock market.

The initiation started some time in early October. I happened to overhear a conversation between two MBA types, who from what I could make out from their conversation, had started working only this year. One of them had received a stock tip about a Foreign Institutional Investor (FII) getting ready to invest in particular stock. News had reached him and this guy had already picked up the stock and was advising the other guy to do the same. “This FII, never gets it wrong”, he said.

And if you feel this was just an aberration, wait till you hear the next one. Sometime in late October, there was this Gujarati man sitting next to me. From the looks of it he seemed to have had a late night. He was taking a morning nap till his mobile started ringing. “ Haan, aaj 8000 Infosys nikal dena”, he said. I couldn’t believe what my ears had just heard. This man had so nonchalantly done a deal of over Rs 20 lakhs. From the looks of it, his face wouldn’t make you turn twice. Appearances as they say are really deceptive.

Mumbaikars make all kinds of investment decisions when travelling to office. Right from doing their tax planning to deciding whether to invest in an initial public offering (IPO). The recent ICICI Bank IPO generated some heated discussions on whether the stock was a good buy. I have even heard people enquiring about a penny stock on which they have a tip.

But one thing that really tells you that a Mumbaikar is really serious about his market is the seriousness with which he reads the pink newspapers every morning. There might be no space to stand (let alone sit) and he would be hanging on to a hand rail but he will still have a newspaper in one hand with his eyes totally concentrated on the article which explains where are the markets headed to in the days to come.

The lucky guys who get a place to sit, first open the full length of the newspaper to read. As the train keeps moving and more people board on, they keep folding the newspaper to make up for the lack of space, till it’s so small that it can be held between two fingers. Such commitment to financial news can only be seen in this city of Mumbai.

An outsiders view of Mumbai is that Mumbaikars with all the travelling they do never have the time. I guess, one needs to live in this city to realise the value of time. “ Time”, as they say, “ is money”. Mumbaikars realise this more than anybody else does and instead of wasting time while travelling, they try and make the best of it.

SHAYAD MERI SHAADI KA KHAYAL

“ Manchahi ladki gar koi mil jaaye, apna bhi is saal shaadi ka iraada hai”, goes an old hindi film song from this movie called “Waqt ki Deewar”. Hindi films seem to have a song for almost every situation in life.

We all reach this stage in life when the world in general seems to think its time to “settle down” in life. For the uninitiated “settle down” being a euphemism for getting married. And yours truly, seems to be going through this phase right now.

People around me seem to have only two questions in mind: “Mumbai main mausam kaisa hai?” and “Aur shaadi ka kya socha?”. The second question can come in varied forms, “What plans for marriage?”, “By when do you plan to get married” etc.

Sometimes I wonder, whether these questions come from a real concern for me or inability to make decent conversation. My guess is it’s more of the latter. When you have finished asking about the weather, put in a line about the marriage.

And in this day and age where grandmas can use the internet there is no dearth of unsolicited advise coming along. From suggestions about logging onto www.shaadi.com to there being a right time for everything in life. The trouble being how does one argue with something as open ended as the “right time”. Whats right for them may not be right for me.

It also doesn’t help when everybody you know is already married, engaged and will get married in the near future or is frantically looking around for a girl to get married to. With the world being divided into three sections there is not enough space for a “ single and happy” individual like me.

And it really hurts when this is used as evidence against you. “ Tumhaare saare doston ki shaadi ho gayee. Wo Pappu yaad hai, usne to do bachche bhi paida kar deeye ab tak. Meri kismet main to tumhaare bachchon ko dekhna hi nahi likha hai”. Very filmy but very true.

This is something I have never been able to understand. “ Why can’t people except you as you are?”, “ Why do they have aspirations from others?”, “Why can’t they just let me be?”. As Johnny Cash sang a long long time back “ I don’t like it, but I guess things happen that way!”.