This piece is again a desperate attempt to ensure that I have at least one piece in every year, so that the “blogging” on my resume under the section “hobbies” is justified. Well, this is coming in a totally new setting. At work, I am, for the first time, doing something productive, and contributing to this huge economy. (At least I like to believe so!) At home, I am, for the first time, the master of a household. Not the master alone – I am also the cook, the dish boy, the sweeper, the butler, the works. In short, it is a perfect one man enterprise.
As far as work is concerned, Mumbai as one’s workplace poses its own troubles. There is no swanky (or even clunky) GoI ride for one. One has to travel the plebian way – the good old BEST and the Mumbai suburban rail network (may be First Class is not that plebian). There has not been any trouble with either as of yet, still, it does not feel like one has exactly ‘made it’! However, once one is inside one’s depot, it is all good. One is the master of all one surveys, even if it is not too much one surveys! This is one’s depot, these are one’s people. To these odd 300 people (and to the 10-20 odd ‘assistance’ seekers’), one is the boss. That is the power of the chair. I am not sure whether I have managed to inspire true respect till now, but I do get a lot of overt respect. I have given some good advice and some good suggestions around here, but I am still not exactly rocking the place with my genius – mostly, I am the learner. I have also been too credulous, and have been taken in to believe most strongly in the case of both parties in a number of disputes that have been brought to me.
To tell the truth I am not sure what I am doing here. A typical day is about surfing the web till an appreciable amount of the people is in, and most importantly, my clerical staff is present. Then I try to complete the task from the day’s checklist, and keep on noting the progress. By 11 or 12, both the desk phones and my official cell phone are ringing off the hook every 5 minutes. Then on, it is mostly a job of fire fighting – tickets exhausted, linen exhausted, oil exhausted, gases exhausted – and one has to find the supply – beg, borrow, steal (that would mean pressing a supplier due later). In the meanwhile, some odd ‘works’ are going on, and one has to ‘supervise’, even it’s just about moral support, since most of the guys handling the stuff are quite adept, certainly much more so than me. The lunch hour is an important marker of the day. It signifies the middle (or more than middle) of the working day. One is closer to getting home. One gets to leave the office (and the two desk phones – bless them) behind. One gets to discuss stuff with colleagues (who are much older in age) and the boss – that helps, but often ends up in more tasks piling up, because the boss is interested in a revamp of the Depot (and rightly so, this place looked like a dump). Then, one gets back to the office, the phones are again ringing off the hook, but mostly, it is about the wheels you set in motion earlier in the day. More often than not, there would be two or three thick piles of files and letters to sign – thanks to my indefatigable Progress section, and often to the Establishment section as well, since the APO has to be shared between the stores and the press. By 4:30, it is time to begin checking out the day’s task sheet, and to start writing the next day’s. Then we call out to the colleagues who are willing to walk to the station with us. The evening walk is more tiring, since it is uphill, that too in full sun. However, since it is about returning home, there is a spring to one’s steps. It is best to catch an Andheri bound train – Bandra bound trains end up on Platform 2 – not good, and Borivali and beyond bound trains are too crowded. Also, getting an auto is trickier in the evening – very few of these guys are interested in going to Carter Road. Once one is in, its 15 mins to the 2nd gate of the Pali Hill Railway Colony. Home, sweet home.
Home time is also unlike what I’ve been having till last month. I mean, I return and I am off rolling paranthas and rotis as I change. Then I prepare the cheese sandwiches in the microwave and settle down to other more menial chores before getting settled to write the diary and read the newspaper along with nice melty sandwiches. By the time Express is fully read, it’s nearly 8 – time to start cooking – rice in the microwave – for precise 17 minutes, as I learnt from a blog – and the breads on the induction plate. Then comes the egg bhurji. Eggs are God’s gift to us bachelor working class. Cheap, easy to prepare, and always tasty. I have a weekly consumption of 28 eggs – you should see the jaws drop when I shop for them on the Shirley road shop. When all’s done, I put it all on a newspaper (no messy dishes later!), and get down to doing the dishes. Then, it’s time for fiesta - with something going on the lappie, may be a new episode of ‘Prison Break’. Post that, it’s promenade time.
The location of the Pali Hill Railway Colony is unlike any other railway colony – there is no railway line anywhere near it (nor was there, even in the past, unlike Badhwar Park). It is situated between the Carter Road, a broad, seaside, fast moving road, and the Pali Hill, the abode of film stars of the yesteryears. Both the gates are exciting walk throughs during the night. The Pali Hill is short enough to climb up and down in 15 minutes, and reminds one of nooks in Mussoorie or Shimla. Only dampener is the vehicular traffic – the roads are pretty narrow and winding, but the people are loaded, so there is a steady flow of Range Rovers and Audis, and even Hummers! Still, when the traffic is not so bad, the way is the most beautiful – it was a beautiful Christmas, to walk on, watching the candles lighting up the little churches, and listening to real carols being played / sung. However, the exit through the main gate promises much greater post prandial strolls, on the Carter Road promenade – a 1.25 km stretch of cobbled walkway along the Arabian Sea coast – the actual water being far out, except in the times of spring tides. One can put on some music and do the easiest 2.5 km in 20 -30 minutes, in the company of relaxed, beautiful and happy people. Having strolled for a week here, with my family, this evening ritual holds a special place for me. After that, it is time to retire – one or two episodes of “Prison Break” (I intend to replace that with reading – my other ‘hobby’, once I finish season 4), till 12:00 – time to doze off, to start another day.
I’ve never adjusted to the 6 day week – there is no weekend as such – I mean, now it starts, you watch some movies late in the night, wake up late on Sunday, and then you are already staring in the face of the Monday morning. Still, Sundays are special – for experimentation in the kitchen. Last week, I learnt that kneading the dough wasn’t a chemical reaction, but an advanced fine art. This week, I made myself pav-bhaji (looked the deal, but was not so palatable), and halwa (too runny, too lumpy). Well, it has been a big leap in my evolution – I now cook my own food from the basic grocery – I am not a Maggi kid any more (though I do appreciate a bowl now and then).
I guess that should be enough for the time being. Sundays are precious, and I can’t afford more than an hour on the blog! The work rolls on – I am not sure what I would show up at the COS inspection this month, and then at the year closing. I am not even sure that sticking to the IRSS and not joining the IDAS was actually a good idea. As the days roll on, to April, I am sure there will be more interesting things to write about. Till then, ciao.
