Mumbai’s local trains are the lifeline of the city. Carrying more than eight million people each day to and fro.

Travelling on them is once in a lifetime experience.

I was in college when I started travelling on the local trains. It was a short commute from Goregaon to Andheri where I studied. I still remember the sound,the smell of the rust in the rains and the buzz around me each time the train entered the station.Those were the days when the mobile phones did not exist.If you happen to take the trains same time every day you would surely bump into familiar faces.Striking a conversation with the fellow commuters was very normal.Longer the travel time more the communication and bonding.

You believe it or not relationships were built in these over crowded coaches. There have been times when I have hung onto the footboard of the train, trying to push my way into the coach packed with people and suddenly I would feel an arm swing around my waist comforting me.I would have missed 2-3 trains already before I got into this one where I could just manage hanging.

When I started working I used to travel to Churchgate daily from Goregaon.We had around 3 locals for the peak morning hours at different times (meaning they depart from Goregaon).You may feel it’s so convenient that it’s the starting point.Getting into the train was an art that actually needed lots of practice. The challenge was to board the train before it stopped.I always timed my jump, leaping inside the coach and grabbing the handle of the door or the arm of another commuter to steady myself.

If I am lucky enough to find a seat, I feel a sense of accomplishment.Four can sit comfortably on the seat but five would sit and the sixth one fights to squeeze in.Even before the train departed the people standing would start asking where would you get off and book their place.

Aroma of the freshly baked Parle G biscuits cannot be missed when you are nearing the Vile Parle station.

You will find different groups of commuters – some singing their favourite Bollywood songs,play cards placing them on the flat brief case,singing bhajans just to wile away the time.

“Ladies compartment”, a coach reserved for women would be vibrant with different shades of sarees,clinging glass bangles and loads of laughter. Some days you have young girls making their way into the compartment to sell earrings,bindis or even dupattas.

Gossip was common -women discussed their “in-laws”,men moaned about “office politics” and talking Bollywood was a common feature.

People actually looked forward to their train journey and missing “their train”could make them really grumpy.An emotion that can only be understood by a Mumbaikar.

During the festival times each one carries some home-made savory or sweet for their group.You could actually get the feel of the festival in the cramped compartment.

Peak hours ,the coaches would be crowded and fights for “space” or “place” was a common affair.The verbal abuse can convert into a physical fight beginning with people pushing with their elbows then slapping or even pulling each other’s hair – this kind of fight is ofcourse more in the ladies compartment.

We Mumbaikars practically commute by trains daily as it is cheaper and faster – meeting our friends in the mornings while going to work and again while returning back in the evening is a perfect recharge 😊.

Evenings would be tired faces,some would rest their head on one another and take a nap.The married women would have bought veggies to cut or peas to peel.It’s more like a group activity and gets done in no time.Many would have family\children waiting at home for dinner so it’s a time saver.

For those who do not know about Mumbai trains –

The trains here are amongst the world’s most busiest and are always overcrowded.The highlight of the Mumbai trains is that doors always remain open.

How you feel about such a gruelling train travel depends on how you think about it. You could either love it or you could hate it.

It’s taught me to be more tolerant and patient. These journeys brought people from different backgrounds together and closer each day.

We proudly call ourselves “train friends” identified by our train timings.

We have a WhatsApp group for “8:20am Goregaon Local “♥️

Good friends are like siblings from another mother.

Their honesty helps me improve and grow.

They forgive me for my mistakes even without an apology.

Their belief in me helps me take the road to the toughest destination.

They may not always be around physically but I know they are there and that’s what makes the difference.

We don’t need to have everything in common – hobbies or likes.The fact they encourage me to pursue mine and also enjoy doing the common together reflects the mutual respect.

Telepathy works based on the intensity of the friendship – my bestie for three decades will vouch that when she reads-

We don’t meet or talk like we did in our growing up years but we both know we have each other’s back.The beauty of our relationship is – we don’t interfere in each other’s life,share the same wave length,can complete each other’s incomplete sentences and most important we know when to advise and when to keep quiet.

I have been very fortunate to have good friends around who have encouraged me and motivated me when I have been low.

I have bumped into such jewels in every phase of my life so far.

They are a handful but act like a force which never lets me stumble.If I ever judge myself negatively they take it personally ♥️.

I find myself empowered,loved,cared in their presence.

“They are tough to find but lucky to have”.

I wish to express my gratitude to my close circle of friends for being there for me and completing me.

This blog page is only alive because of these friends who trusted me more than anybody else.

Love you and wish you a very “Happy Friendship Day”.

I will need you all today and forever 🤗🧿

School life is an unforgettable part of childhood. There is something very special about childhood that no other phase of our life can replace.School years give you plenty of time to bond and grow in the relationship.

Always bringing back nostalgic memories.

Friends we make during our school days mostly last for a lifetime.

School friends have seen us through almost everything possible and haven’t left our sight.Some may have drifted apart but its always the same when we meet again. We not only cherish those moments spent in school but also the energy we shared.

We have literally grown up together eating each others tiffin,listening to the same kind of songs and scoring almost the same marks. We have often covered up and completed journals for each other.All these memories and moments have defined and shaped us.

What we are today is the outcome of our childhood experiences and learnings.

The front benchers and back benchers though in the same classroom would have had totally different memories and experiences.

These memories always bring out the child in us and protects us from every negativity.

You never have to pretend to be somebody else as there is no fear of being judged.

Most of us wore that uniform together once and gave it up also together.

You must be wondering what made me remember school today –

Yesterday I learned from a friend that we lost one of our school mate.Have not seen the person in two decades but still memories of the classroom are so fresh in my mind.

Looking at the school – black and white class photo I was struck by how I recognized the 8-9 year old face staring at me and taking me back to class banters.I cannot remember the person beyond the eyes of a 15 year old.

Such is life!

We leave a lot of things behind and move on to different phases of our life but one recap is enough to shake us up.

Since yesterday I am mentally stuck in school wearing the uniform with all my dear friends wishing to turn back time just once..

Prayers for the departed soul.

Rest In Peace,Om Shanti🙏

The world is divided into two kinds of people – math lovers and …………….

Today let me introduce you to a Math maniac in my family –

As a young child I loved mathematics.I don’t know whether I loved the subject more or my tutor.My love for math stems from learning it with my father. He did not focus on rote memorization but on live examples and relatable facts.It was never a boring session with him.The examples are still so fresh in my mind that I use it while tutoring my kids.Well he was not an easy tutor but very strict,disciplined and super passionate.

(I hate to say was but I lost him 22 years back)

He had a significant influence on me and other children he tutored to develop an unique level of interest for the subject.He always chose to tutor average or below average kids after his working hours.He not only tutored them but changed their mindset towards the subject.He believed that you need to fall in love with the subject first.Those were the days when bread earners did multiple jobs to run the house.He held a BE degree,was a Mechanical Engineer.Teaching math was his passion so after office hours he would go the child’s house to teach.He was teaching a few kids from the Bollywood families where he received a handsome fee and simultaneously also taught kids from not so well off families where he took a nominal fee.He had only one aim spread love for mathematics and grow his clan 😊.I used to find it strange when his friends called him on the landline (he never saw the mobile phone era)to seek help solve trigonometry sums for their children.He would patiently solve it in a paper and write down a detailed explanation and read it over the phone.My chest would swell with pride every time I witnessed.For me he was no less than a Hero.

Similarly I remember the days when I was studying in a school in Mumbai and he worked in Vishakhpatnam.How much I missed my tutor!

We had inland letters then -I used to write my queries to him and he would reply back with detailed explanations both in written and pictorial format.If it was urgent he would call me and explain.Where do you get Fathers like this???

His children who scored less than 50% passed out with more than 85% and a fully changed attitude.

They still carry very high regards for him.

(Some more about him)

His mornings began with solving cryptic crosswords from the newspaper and the day ended with a good read (mostly Readers Digest).He also had his unique habit of teaching us one new word everyday – meaning and how to apply it.

His height of craziness is beyond imagination.Let me share an incident with you-

Once he was traveling alone from Mumbai to Vishakhpatnam in a train and accidentally hit his head on the upper berth just before he reached his destination.There was a cut and he started bleeding,luckily a co-passenger came to his rescue,gave him first aid and told him to see a doctor immediately after getting off.

Normal people surely do not behave in this manner.So here my crazy papa meets the doctor and gets a few stitches little above his forehead.People normally ask for pain killers but he asked for a plain paper and here he is writing down all possible math formulas just to be sure that the bang hasn’t harmed his math memory.

Well I can’t even imagine what thoughts doctor would have got 🤪.This incident was proudly shared by him to me over the phone.

That was little bit about my papa’s crazy side.He was surely one of a kind.

I keep him alive in my memories and writings♥️

More for next time..

Being a mother is incredible!

You need not give birth to a child to get that emotion correct. Being an older sister or an aunt \having a pet one can have the same emotion.

Childlessness still remains a huge stigma in our society where women are often defined by motherhood. In some parts of India if you are childless you are not allowed to participate in certain rituals.

How cruel is that?

I am sure there are similar stories in other parts of the world.

Why is not having a baby still a taboo?

There can be various personal reasons attached to it –

a CHOICE, miscarriage, stillborn or any other medical issue in self or spouse; reasons could be various –

a childhood abuse or abusive relationship with the parents…

Have you ever thought how your behavior or question could affect the person?

How do you decide to guess their reason –

For you their biological clock is ticking, but for them it could be on mute.

Why do you expect them to share the reason with you??

Why would you sympathize or judge them??

Who made you the authority???

Have you ever thought about it…

Well some would say,we care so we ask.. if you care leave it to them..

Let them choose you to confide upon, you need not volunteer…

Sadly it’s women most of the times questioning or taunting the other..

Children don’t bring happiness or complete families if that was the case only people without children would go for legal battles..

Maintaining the peace and harmony is everybody’s responsibility in a family.

Respect the person not their titles..

Each one has his or her own definition to happiness..

There is no standard way of living a life..

Our script writer ,”The almighty” has a plan for all of us why not focus on our own role.

I love taking pictures and capturing the moments behind the lens .Candid pictures do justice in capturing the real expressions and emotions.Remembering conversations comes naturally to me and I can almost narrate them without missing the essence.

Today when I sit in the coziest corner of my house and glance through the albums, the pictures play their stories back and forth in my mind.Going through photo albums can be a rewarding experience, as it allows you to reminisce about your favorite memories.In the midst of the pandemic where we haven’t met our dear ones for almost two years it feels like every picture is talking to you and taking you back to relive the moment.

The albums embark you on a virtual tour and you see yourself landed where the picture was shot and relive the memory.Some we lost before covid and some to this ruthless covid. And so, alongside the grief and anxiety we are feeling the loss of what we had in the past and the fear of what is in store for the future there is another big emotion that’s spreading around:helplessness.

Pictures remind you the happy moments you shared with them.

They actually do the same job books do in fact better because you are the character in the pictures.They take you to beautiful destinations ,they take you home when you really can’t be now.

Bubble wraps bring back childhood memories. May sound silly but when a piece of bubble wrap came home wrapped over a fragile item I would wait to attack it. Whoever held a bubble wrap sheet unknowingly and involuntarily pops it even before they knew. Its quite addictive.

It gave immense pleasure and was a good de stress without making a hole in the pocket.

Now I will tell you why I brought up money while sharing this childhood memory.

Few days back my little one told me that the children in her class are talking about a new toy that has come in the toy store – “Pop it”.She was very excited talking about it and I told her we will look for it when we go to the store.

Today we went to the mall and I saw the toy for the first time and you have no idea how much I tried hard to match up with my daughter’s excitement. It was in different colours and shapes and my little one was all confused which one to pick and she politely asked me, “Mamma can you please help me choose?” and my instant reaction “you really want this!!” – to that her face fell low and I realized probably I was too rude. Well I was made to understand that it is a stress relieving toy and can be very beneficial for kids.

I could have made her understand as she is not the types who would fuss and cry but didn’t want to break her heart for this silly thing.

My little one was sold to it even before we had reached the store so I just followed the parenting rule and picked it.

Lesson for next time google in advance 😬.

I got hugs,kisses and love you’s in return which are priceless.”Pop it “had popped my pocket.

Readers please do not get popped like me 😉.

Picture below will explain the connection between the bubble wrap and pop it and you will realize how the new generation is getting fooled for simple pleasures of life.

Have you ever been put on the spot by an enthusiastic small child who has made a drawing and wants you to guess what he\she has made.

According to me that’s the worst situation to be in.That little one is a bundle of ideas and is all excited to tell you what is there in the drawing but your intelligent brain is unable to crack it.

Till a certain age every art looks like a modern art and surely there is an artist in every child.Their innocence,simplicity and purity is what makes them stand out.

Have you seen children clinging on to their old and broken toys – it doesn’t matter to them how cheap it might be monetarily as it is more precious than all riches of the world put together.

I wish I could be a child again and unfurl my imaginations,believe in fairies and pretend to be a princess.Wear capes and fight the evil,jump in the puddles and make a mess around.Why do I crave for perfection in everything today when it does not give me the happiness the mess once gave.

Laughing without reasons, paying no heed to others words was so easy then.Why did I grow up and lose those traits.

I wish to be a child again
If not in reality …..
Maybe sometimes in my dreams.

Childhood is a phase that should be celebrated.