My first memory of someone coming back from "abroad" (i mean foreign here... i learnt about guys coming back from a "broad" much later in life) was possibly the same time i heard about TR (or transfer of residence), of Air conditioning with ducting for all rooms and of Mazda as a foreign car- in particular a silver hatchback.
For those who haven’t caught on yet, I’m referring to the return of Dr Cedric and family from Doha - this was a event where as kids we stood and watched trucks coming in with boxes after boxes after boxes that were unloaded and carried up to their house. It would have taken years to open all those boxes and it probably did.
The contents of those boxes revealed wonders to some of us who had never been exposed; to the first glimpse of a coulour TV, a VCR, VHS & Betamax cassettes, push button telephones, sofas (which were not double beds) a cooking range. Today all the above are found in every home, but for a kid in the late 70’s early 80’s this was a revelation; something that he could boast about and ridicule his peers who had no clue about what he was talking.
While in most albums of the early gulfies, there would always be a photo of the guy (in goggles - most probably Ray Ban) standing next to a swanky looking car – in all probability a Datsun, a Mazda or some Huge American gass guzzler with tail fins. (this was much before Toyota & Honda became popular and before Datsun became Nissan) and you always admired the car and envied the guy for the same - so to see Dr Cedric’s Mazda in real life, to ride in it and feel the cold air from the A/c was definitely a dream come true.
So thank you Dr Cedric and family for providing me these experiences very early in life; I write this blog sitting in Doha where I have come to work, a good 30 years after you have left. I keep wondering how different the place would have been then, as compared to now and whether you would like it as much now as you did then.
To Gillian ( Raymond Lopez’s) daughter who has preceded me in Doha, thank you for the warm Marinagar welcome you have given me, for making me feel comfortable, helping me look for a house and showing me the restaurant where i can get kheema like Paramount. Thank you.
Friday, July 23, 2010
Thursday, June 10, 2010
latest news - hopefully contnuously
Nestor (Frank Coutino’s son) has created http://marinagarsportsclub.webs.com/ which gives the current happenings in Marinagar.
And it is my fervent hope that Nestor and the guys administering this site have the tenacity to keep this site alive and give us Non resident Marinagarites regular updates on whats going on in our colony.
Lets encourage these guys by logging on, becoming members and giving your feedback and comments.
In case you missed it, here is the link again http://marinagarsportsclub.webs.com/ – so please use it....Now.
And it is my fervent hope that Nestor and the guys administering this site have the tenacity to keep this site alive and give us Non resident Marinagarites regular updates on whats going on in our colony.
Lets encourage these guys by logging on, becoming members and giving your feedback and comments.
In case you missed it, here is the link again http://marinagarsportsclub.webs.com/ – so please use it....Now.
Sunday, May 23, 2010
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
Love All Play
Have written a lot about the guys, thought it’s time for the ladies of Marinagar to have their share of reminisces.
Christmas 2009 brought back lots of memories with the married men vs bachelors football and volleyball and the married women vs spinsters throwball matches.
It was great to see Karen, and Ramona Sylvie, Nirmala, Ninette and the other married ladies playing against the youngsters and spinsters. The fact that some of them had their daughters playing against them did not dissuade them or hold them back from the spins, the smashes, the overhead throws and the complicated rotation policy (Z format) which the spinsters could not master through all 3 games played.
The matches were hard fought but in the end it was the experience that triumphed over the younger fitter opponents. The married women winning this years edition.
The current lot of girls are pretty god, Tamara (Evitas daughter) was one who stood out. But they have quite a way to go to match the levels of Lara, Desiree, Christie, Fiona in their age group. Nirmala Sylvie, Germaine, Effie, Cheryl, Yulette in theirs, And Karen, Rodette, Clemy, Maria, Ninette, Annette, Ramona in theirs.
I’m sure that i have missed out some of the very talented players and seek apology now itself for not giving them recognition.
As for the boys; we liked to encourage the girls to play throwball, especially if they started early and finished before we came onto the ground to play volleyball.
But there is one thing that still perplexes us. Why is it that when serving and calling the score, the right leg goes up?
If any of you know, please let me know.
Till then...Service Over, Love All.
Christmas 2009 brought back lots of memories with the married men vs bachelors football and volleyball and the married women vs spinsters throwball matches.
It was great to see Karen, and Ramona Sylvie, Nirmala, Ninette and the other married ladies playing against the youngsters and spinsters. The fact that some of them had their daughters playing against them did not dissuade them or hold them back from the spins, the smashes, the overhead throws and the complicated rotation policy (Z format) which the spinsters could not master through all 3 games played.
The matches were hard fought but in the end it was the experience that triumphed over the younger fitter opponents. The married women winning this years edition.
The current lot of girls are pretty god, Tamara (Evitas daughter) was one who stood out. But they have quite a way to go to match the levels of Lara, Desiree, Christie, Fiona in their age group. Nirmala Sylvie, Germaine, Effie, Cheryl, Yulette in theirs, And Karen, Rodette, Clemy, Maria, Ninette, Annette, Ramona in theirs.
I’m sure that i have missed out some of the very talented players and seek apology now itself for not giving them recognition.
As for the boys; we liked to encourage the girls to play throwball, especially if they started early and finished before we came onto the ground to play volleyball.
But there is one thing that still perplexes us. Why is it that when serving and calling the score, the right leg goes up?
If any of you know, please let me know.
Till then...Service Over, Love All.
Sunday, April 25, 2010
One day at a time
This post is an update on our friend Melville Pinheiro who was extremely badly burnt in a fire that happened at his place of work.
After around 2 months in hospital Mel was released to go home where i met him a few days ago and i must state that Mel's spririt is unbeatable.
This photo for which Mel has asked me tp put up is of him (bandages and all) saying Hi and a big thank you to all for your prayers and support (financial and otherwise).
Mel is making good progress - while his back is healing well, his hands, knees, head and chin still need healing and there is a long way to go.
But Mel is extremely positive - he has had some victories by being able to have the motor functions back in both his hands, but there is still a long way to go for recovery.
But then Mel has always taken one day at a time - for those who know him would know that he has been taking one day at a time for qite a few years now. This is just another challenge for him and he is confident of overcoming it one day at a time.
But he still needs our prayers and our support; so please give both...generously.
Thursday, April 15, 2010
Thooie Paitra - losing your marbles
For those who have no clue what i am writing amount; the below should help
Requirements: One wall, a square drawn in the mud, a gull(hole) in the centre and 3 dubs (cement balls or steel ball bearings - preferably one bigger than the other 2 ...and game on.
Rules: from a line a few feet away from the square you needed to throw 2 dubs into the square (praying that one went into the gul) and then on indication from your opponent; try to hit the dub with the 3rd one with you.
If one of the dubs went outside the square – the opponent can place the dub on a side of the square and push it with the aim of getting oth dubs to touch for you to hit
If one of the dubs went outside the square and the other in the gull – the opponent can place the dub on a side of the square and push it with the aim of getting oth dubs to touch for you to hit
If both dubs went outsibe the square; one dub could be place any where in the square for you to hit
Points: Hitting the dub got you 10 points and another dau (turn)
Getting one dub into the gull gets an additional 10 points and another dau
Having the hitting dub bounce outside the square gets a negative 10 points and loss of your dau
Having the hitting dub go full toss on the wall gets a negative 10 points and loss of your dau
Having the hitting dub bounce inside the square without hitting any of the 2 dubs within results only in loss of your dau
He who reaches 100 first wins. And if more than 2 players – they keep playing till all but one reaches 100.
Penalties: to make the game more interesting – you could place bets with marbles at stake – losers giving their marbles to the winners.
Or the loser would becone the Den for the hide and seek that would follow.
Alternativey and more painfully, the loser wuld be subjected to penalties – the most popular being the loser folding his hands and splitting them before the winners can hit them. This would go on till all the wnners missed their hits. Have losers cried...of course. Have others stepped in to save the losers...of course. Did they take the hits for the losers... of course. Did they cry too...of course. Did we stop...no way; we were pretty sadistic back then.
So what the hell is Thooie Paitra?
A disgruntled genius who did not get his turn often enough put in a rule that if the player left his line without calling Thooie paitra before he did; his opponent could capture his spot behind the line and take his dau.
Hows that for some genuine Marinagar lingo??
Requirements: One wall, a square drawn in the mud, a gull(hole) in the centre and 3 dubs (cement balls or steel ball bearings - preferably one bigger than the other 2 ...and game on.
Rules: from a line a few feet away from the square you needed to throw 2 dubs into the square (praying that one went into the gul) and then on indication from your opponent; try to hit the dub with the 3rd one with you.
If one of the dubs went outside the square – the opponent can place the dub on a side of the square and push it with the aim of getting oth dubs to touch for you to hit
If one of the dubs went outside the square and the other in the gull – the opponent can place the dub on a side of the square and push it with the aim of getting oth dubs to touch for you to hit
If both dubs went outsibe the square; one dub could be place any where in the square for you to hit
Points: Hitting the dub got you 10 points and another dau (turn)
Getting one dub into the gull gets an additional 10 points and another dau
Having the hitting dub bounce outside the square gets a negative 10 points and loss of your dau
Having the hitting dub go full toss on the wall gets a negative 10 points and loss of your dau
Having the hitting dub bounce inside the square without hitting any of the 2 dubs within results only in loss of your dau
He who reaches 100 first wins. And if more than 2 players – they keep playing till all but one reaches 100.
Penalties: to make the game more interesting – you could place bets with marbles at stake – losers giving their marbles to the winners.
Or the loser would becone the Den for the hide and seek that would follow.
Alternativey and more painfully, the loser wuld be subjected to penalties – the most popular being the loser folding his hands and splitting them before the winners can hit them. This would go on till all the wnners missed their hits. Have losers cried...of course. Have others stepped in to save the losers...of course. Did they take the hits for the losers... of course. Did they cry too...of course. Did we stop...no way; we were pretty sadistic back then.
So what the hell is Thooie Paitra?
A disgruntled genius who did not get his turn often enough put in a rule that if the player left his line without calling Thooie paitra before he did; his opponent could capture his spot behind the line and take his dau.
Hows that for some genuine Marinagar lingo??
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
Get Well Mel
Most of you would have already received this appeal. But in case you haven't, please read and extend any help you can.
Thanks Selwyn and Ivan for taking this initiative.
APPEAL ON BEHALF OF MELVILLE AND HIS FAMILY
Our friend from Marinagar, Melville Pinheiro (Noblix/Khada) got badly burnt while at work in a garment factory. This happened in early February 2010. He suffered about 30% burns and continues to be in hospital. Besides, he will have to make frequent visits to the hospital for about a year, for treatment.
While we are grateful to the almighty for having saved him miraculously, the reality is that he will be out of a job initially and will have to incur recurring hospital expenses over and above the expenses already incurred. We must also remember that he has three school/college going children to take care of, the last being in the 4th Standard.
As a simple token of our solidarity towards our Marinagar chappie who would come and stitch our colony Christmas star at the last minute, we are attempting a cash collection drive. Our intention is to collect at least Rs. 2 lakhs. As a well-wisher of Melville, we appeal to your generosity. Contributions of Rs. 5,000/- and above will be greatly appreciated.
Kindly send the amount either to Selwyn Paul or Ivan (Putta) Rodrigues.
Selwyn Paul's mobile No. 9967722238
email address : selu1960@yahoo.com.au
Ivan Rodrigues : mobile No. 9821234620
email address : ivanrodrigues777@yahoo.com
On behalf of Melville and his family, we wish to thank you in advance for your generosity. More importantly, we seek your continued prayers for Melville.
Wishing each of you and your families a blessed Holy Week and a joyous Easter.
Thanks.
Thanks Selwyn and Ivan for taking this initiative.
APPEAL ON BEHALF OF MELVILLE AND HIS FAMILY
Our friend from Marinagar, Melville Pinheiro (Noblix/Khada) got badly burnt while at work in a garment factory. This happened in early February 2010. He suffered about 30% burns and continues to be in hospital. Besides, he will have to make frequent visits to the hospital for about a year, for treatment.
While we are grateful to the almighty for having saved him miraculously, the reality is that he will be out of a job initially and will have to incur recurring hospital expenses over and above the expenses already incurred. We must also remember that he has three school/college going children to take care of, the last being in the 4th Standard.
As a simple token of our solidarity towards our Marinagar chappie who would come and stitch our colony Christmas star at the last minute, we are attempting a cash collection drive. Our intention is to collect at least Rs. 2 lakhs. As a well-wisher of Melville, we appeal to your generosity. Contributions of Rs. 5,000/- and above will be greatly appreciated.
Kindly send the amount either to Selwyn Paul or Ivan (Putta) Rodrigues.
Selwyn Paul's mobile No. 9967722238
email address : selu1960@yahoo.com.au
Ivan Rodrigues : mobile No. 9821234620
email address : ivanrodrigues777@yahoo.com
On behalf of Melville and his family, we wish to thank you in advance for your generosity. More importantly, we seek your continued prayers for Melville.
Wishing each of you and your families a blessed Holy Week and a joyous Easter.
Thanks.
Guitar Heroes
(pictures courtesy Javie)
And below a list of the strummers not picturised
Uncle Paul (Kiki fiki maka naka), Cyril (Ringo) Hopkins, Javie, Patty, Ivan, Pascal, Brandon, Nestor
A rose by any other name... still has thorns
The below post is a complete copy and paste (without formatting) from the original Marinagar site that Javie had created. Enjoy.
And they called it the sacrament of baptism. Well going by the nick names in the colony if one looks for parallels one can conclusively that the colony spirit belongs to St.John the Baptist. The names that have been concocted are truly amazing when one thinks of how they came about. These are a few that come to mind, although most certainly there must be many many more.
ANTHONY NAR Lokhandwalla, Ironman
FRANCIS NAR Chadaw Master
ALBERT Chibut
ANDRE LOPEZ Adda
AUBIN D'SOUZA Mafia, Lucca Brassi
BERNARD FONSECA Banshoo
RONNIE FONSECA Eggy, Ki-Kao
BRADLEY CORREIA Korak/Bradleap
KEVIN FRANCIS Papya
MARSHALL Sylvester
ALEX D'MELLO Paide/ Tooti Fotty, Railways
VINCY NAZARETH Butler
THEOPHILO D'SOUZA Theophillis, Duck
JOHN D'SOUZA Peglo/John Pint, Jackpot (JPJ)
HANSEN BRAGANZA Baccha Crow
LOUWELLEYN LuLu
CLYDE Boiled Egg
SEWELL D'MELLO Hanuman
SAVIO D'MELLO Let
EUSTACE D'MELLO Bootchie, Lee Van Cleef, Quick-Gun Murugan, La Bocha Gunfighter
CLEDWYN PASSANHA Zappa1
OWEN PASSANHA Airport
SHELDON D'SOUZA Capo
ALEX RODRIGUES Kaalia/Black, Aalia, Unlucky
TONY RODRIGUES Tony Khamba
RAPHAEL Bandook / Rifle
SAVIO Choota Bandook/Son of a Gun
FRANK Horse
ELVIS Pony
CLIVE DJ / Canter2 / Engineer at 40-Sound Engineer ie
LOUIE D'SOUZA LutLoot, Chablya Mui
MICHAEL Eaupras
MARCUS CusCus/Kadha Bautheese
JOEL ALMEIDA Octo
JASON ALMEIDA ----
TONY BAPTISTA Talking Myna
KARL FERNANDES Chacha/45//Galileio, Kanya
KIKI FERNANDES SSSnake/Bishop/Kautya
ALLWYN FERNANDES BEST, Voie,Taklya, One Ball Man
NOEL FERNANDES Notelee
NIRANJAN MENDONCA Neruuuu Palmer/JP
JAVIE D'SOUZA Jawahar/Bajra
STEVEN SEQUEIRA Sorpotail Boesteaon/Hashman, Bangladeshi, Kalwe
NESTER SEQUEIRA Tom, Muppett, Shiamak
SHERWIN VAZ Father/GoldFish
JUDE D'SILVA Arnold
CANTER(late) Mexico in Flames
MAURICE(late) Taken Maurice
LEO Bandhiooo
AGNEL Shetty Motrins
NESTON BRITTO THHHO
CRESCENT Ghaslete
RONNIE D'SOUZA Singaporee
FRANK MASCARENHAS Zappa
GERARD HOPKINS Ringo
HAROLD HOPKINS Lala
IVAN RODRICKS Ivan Putta
ROHAN RODRICKS -----
HILAL KHAN Style Bhai/TD>
STANLEY TAWADIA ----
NARESH TANDON Noise/Kundi/Ek shunya shunya, Ghamela
JONATHAN TANDON Old man
PATRICK D'SOUZA nana patekar
PETER D'SOUZA Pecher Poiler
FORSU Forsu
JAIRZINHO JheeeNo, Father Joe
AMARILDO Amar Dildo
NEIL MONTEIRO Budda
DALE D'SOUZA Chlorophyll
RALPH COUTO Tight
IVAN COUTO Hopping Hitti
LEVIO D'SOUZA Ankle, Bulbuleaks,Bullio
MERWYN D'SOUZA Gujarat
RANDOLPH D'SOUZA Randba
ALDRIN D'SOUZA Horny Hal
PETER D'SOUZA Animal/Headwani/Feotus Monstrous, Big Head, peter Quarter
DAN DOULTON Dashing Dan
SELWYN PAUL Alam Bhai/Shorty/5 for 45
ARTHUR SEQUEIRA Adhrak
JOEL RODRICKS Bhangee,Gulabe,Poeee
ROBIN RODRICKS Hippo, T.C.
KEVIN MASCARENHAS Mama
SAVIO GAMA ROSE Gammy/Black2
MARSHALL Sylvester
ARVIN Boopee
CARL D'SILVA Chopte
CHELSTON Stylo
ALBERT MISQUITTA Cardboard Tarzan,Oriali
PATRICK MISQUITTA Mosquito
MELWYN PINHERO Magic/Kappa/Kadha Bautheese
CAJETAN PINHERO CPM/Snow Mango/Catch A Tin/ Piano Man/Kodya/Paddo
KEITH MONTEIRO Bandicoot, Montronics
VALERIAN Napolean Born Apart/Ghand Vakhdi
And they called it the sacrament of baptism. Well going by the nick names in the colony if one looks for parallels one can conclusively that the colony spirit belongs to St.John the Baptist. The names that have been concocted are truly amazing when one thinks of how they came about. These are a few that come to mind, although most certainly there must be many many more.
ANTHONY NAR Lokhandwalla, Ironman
FRANCIS NAR Chadaw Master
ALBERT Chibut
ANDRE LOPEZ Adda
AUBIN D'SOUZA Mafia, Lucca Brassi
BERNARD FONSECA Banshoo
RONNIE FONSECA Eggy, Ki-Kao
BRADLEY CORREIA Korak/Bradleap
KEVIN FRANCIS Papya
MARSHALL Sylvester
ALEX D'MELLO Paide/ Tooti Fotty, Railways
VINCY NAZARETH Butler
THEOPHILO D'SOUZA Theophillis, Duck
JOHN D'SOUZA Peglo/John Pint, Jackpot (JPJ)
HANSEN BRAGANZA Baccha Crow
LOUWELLEYN LuLu
CLYDE Boiled Egg
SEWELL D'MELLO Hanuman
SAVIO D'MELLO Let
EUSTACE D'MELLO Bootchie, Lee Van Cleef, Quick-Gun Murugan, La Bocha Gunfighter
CLEDWYN PASSANHA Zappa1
OWEN PASSANHA Airport
SHELDON D'SOUZA Capo
ALEX RODRIGUES Kaalia/Black, Aalia, Unlucky
TONY RODRIGUES Tony Khamba
RAPHAEL Bandook / Rifle
SAVIO Choota Bandook/Son of a Gun
FRANK Horse
ELVIS Pony
CLIVE DJ / Canter2 / Engineer at 40-Sound Engineer ie
LOUIE D'SOUZA LutLoot, Chablya Mui
MICHAEL Eaupras
MARCUS CusCus/Kadha Bautheese
JOEL ALMEIDA Octo
JASON ALMEIDA ----
TONY BAPTISTA Talking Myna
KARL FERNANDES Chacha/45//Galileio, Kanya
KIKI FERNANDES SSSnake/Bishop/Kautya
ALLWYN FERNANDES BEST, Voie,Taklya, One Ball Man
NOEL FERNANDES Notelee
NIRANJAN MENDONCA Neruuuu Palmer/JP
JAVIE D'SOUZA Jawahar/Bajra
STEVEN SEQUEIRA Sorpotail Boesteaon/Hashman, Bangladeshi, Kalwe
NESTER SEQUEIRA Tom, Muppett, Shiamak
SHERWIN VAZ Father/GoldFish
JUDE D'SILVA Arnold
CANTER(late) Mexico in Flames
MAURICE(late) Taken Maurice
LEO Bandhiooo
AGNEL Shetty Motrins
NESTON BRITTO THHHO
CRESCENT Ghaslete
RONNIE D'SOUZA Singaporee
FRANK MASCARENHAS Zappa
GERARD HOPKINS Ringo
HAROLD HOPKINS Lala
IVAN RODRICKS Ivan Putta
ROHAN RODRICKS -----
HILAL KHAN Style Bhai/TD>
STANLEY TAWADIA ----
NARESH TANDON Noise/Kundi/Ek shunya shunya, Ghamela
JONATHAN TANDON Old man
PATRICK D'SOUZA nana patekar
PETER D'SOUZA Pecher Poiler
FORSU Forsu
JAIRZINHO JheeeNo, Father Joe
AMARILDO Amar Dildo
NEIL MONTEIRO Budda
DALE D'SOUZA Chlorophyll
RALPH COUTO Tight
IVAN COUTO Hopping Hitti
LEVIO D'SOUZA Ankle, Bulbuleaks,Bullio
MERWYN D'SOUZA Gujarat
RANDOLPH D'SOUZA Randba
ALDRIN D'SOUZA Horny Hal
PETER D'SOUZA Animal/Headwani/Feotus Monstrous, Big Head, peter Quarter
DAN DOULTON Dashing Dan
SELWYN PAUL Alam Bhai/Shorty/5 for 45
ARTHUR SEQUEIRA Adhrak
JOEL RODRICKS Bhangee,Gulabe,Poeee
ROBIN RODRICKS Hippo, T.C.
KEVIN MASCARENHAS Mama
SAVIO GAMA ROSE Gammy/Black2
MARSHALL Sylvester
ARVIN Boopee
CARL D'SILVA Chopte
CHELSTON Stylo
ALBERT MISQUITTA Cardboard Tarzan,Oriali
PATRICK MISQUITTA Mosquito
MELWYN PINHERO Magic/Kappa/Kadha Bautheese
CAJETAN PINHERO CPM/Snow Mango/Catch A Tin/ Piano Man/Kodya/Paddo
KEITH MONTEIRO Bandicoot, Montronics
VALERIAN Napolean Born Apart/Ghand Vakhdi
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
Logging out (before the internet era)
(picture courtesy Javie)
A tribute to the most famous watering hole (in all its avatars) in Marinagar - The Log
It all started with a coconut tree (the one in front of the Montes residence) dying and falling. This dead tree was then dragged, propped up on a few stones and laid across Nirmala building - and that was perhaps the last night U Victor and A Doris got a good night's sleep.
From those humble beginnings, the log went on to achieve fame and infamy all rolled in one. It was the best seat in the house to watch the hockey or volley ball games in progress. It was the place the tire would rest and some sleep on. But it was the spot that the boys of the colony would gravitate to especially after sundown and more importantly on a Saturday night.
That was when the spirits soared and the voices with accompanying guitars soared higher. The escapades on the log would need a multitude of blogs to chronicle so let me just stick to the story of the log
Come rain or shine the log was always there but come Holi and the boys would get together and push this ton of weight from Nirmala building to the rear of Arogya Mata t ensure that the Holi revellers would not hack it and take it away to burn.
The challenge in manoeuvring a 30ft log through a path 20 ft wide meant it had to be pushed through vertically over mud and stones. But the pride of saving the log was worth the blisters scrapes, scratches of moving the log to and fro.
A result of one such escapade was 2 logs when the big one that was subject to rain and fingers digging into the expose areas caused it to snap. That was when to some relief of U Victor and A Doris it was moved from in front of Nirmala bldg to between Nirmala Bldg and Kini House. This then became the new permanent home for the log for a very very long time.
The old log was subsequently replaced with a new log (the coconut tree which was in front of A Cassies residence) Now this tree most probably died on account of the rope that was tied around it to hang the star which was never removed for a few years. Whether it is possible for a tree to be strangled I'm not too sure; but we got a new log, Albert in his left out position was lost without his trusted ally (the tree) around which he used to dribble and the boys had to figure out how to suspend the star between Nithya Sahya and Nirmala bldg. (I digress)
New log in place - the boys are happy; Nirmala bldg residents unhappy. Cops called and boys warned. Aunty from Kini House even more unhappy; fish water thrown and boys warned. But come Saturday ... life goes on.
Part of new log burnt ding holi, rest of log deteriorates with age and exposure to the elements so a new permanent wall was built between the two trees - alas this proved too small so to the right of the tree a kadappa was put to seat more . The gutter in front of Nirmala seated the overflow but was a bit distant from the action so a new Kadappa was put up on bricks behind the wall. But despite the modernity it still retained its character and its name - 'The Log "- Javie has captured this scene very eloquently in his sketch that is the mast head for this blog. - The good old days.
Then the constructions started, Kini house went. One of the trees was cut down and the log broken up physically. Hence locationally the watering hole then shifted to the new place where the boys in the pre log era would congregate at - The Tank.
And while the residents of Nirmala Building could finally sleep well on a Saturday night, all hell broke loose around the tank when the clock struck eleven. But for want of alternatives, back to the tank we went every Saturday; the brave ones ever willing to take on any friend roman or countrymen who gave us an ear.
Oh we were accused of immorality, being alcoholics, drug addicts and the like. And while our crime was waking up the neighbours with (not always) harmonious singing, we also knew our limits and when requested nicely would in most instances comply. Sure we did our thing but we had each other to keep us going over the limit. And today I can proudly say that with all the boys that I have spent time with on the log; most are doing extremely well in life.
The log today is still there - not in its old grandeur but as a 3 foot long granite slab; but what is ironical is that it is located in the same place where the earlier log used to be next to one of the trees that has still survived.
It still performs the same role as it did in earlier years. Only now it cuts across the generation gap. The senior citizens use it during the day and the young adults use it post sundown and all are happy.
How do I know? ... Well my father who's 80 sits there every day.
And why does he go there and what does he do there?
Well I've never asked him; just like he never asked me why; or stopped me from going to the log when I was younger.
A tribute to the most famous watering hole (in all its avatars) in Marinagar - The Log
It all started with a coconut tree (the one in front of the Montes residence) dying and falling. This dead tree was then dragged, propped up on a few stones and laid across Nirmala building - and that was perhaps the last night U Victor and A Doris got a good night's sleep.
From those humble beginnings, the log went on to achieve fame and infamy all rolled in one. It was the best seat in the house to watch the hockey or volley ball games in progress. It was the place the tire would rest and some sleep on. But it was the spot that the boys of the colony would gravitate to especially after sundown and more importantly on a Saturday night.
That was when the spirits soared and the voices with accompanying guitars soared higher. The escapades on the log would need a multitude of blogs to chronicle so let me just stick to the story of the log
Come rain or shine the log was always there but come Holi and the boys would get together and push this ton of weight from Nirmala building to the rear of Arogya Mata t ensure that the Holi revellers would not hack it and take it away to burn.
The challenge in manoeuvring a 30ft log through a path 20 ft wide meant it had to be pushed through vertically over mud and stones. But the pride of saving the log was worth the blisters scrapes, scratches of moving the log to and fro.
A result of one such escapade was 2 logs when the big one that was subject to rain and fingers digging into the expose areas caused it to snap. That was when to some relief of U Victor and A Doris it was moved from in front of Nirmala bldg to between Nirmala Bldg and Kini House. This then became the new permanent home for the log for a very very long time.
The old log was subsequently replaced with a new log (the coconut tree which was in front of A Cassies residence) Now this tree most probably died on account of the rope that was tied around it to hang the star which was never removed for a few years. Whether it is possible for a tree to be strangled I'm not too sure; but we got a new log, Albert in his left out position was lost without his trusted ally (the tree) around which he used to dribble and the boys had to figure out how to suspend the star between Nithya Sahya and Nirmala bldg. (I digress)
New log in place - the boys are happy; Nirmala bldg residents unhappy. Cops called and boys warned. Aunty from Kini House even more unhappy; fish water thrown and boys warned. But come Saturday ... life goes on.
Part of new log burnt ding holi, rest of log deteriorates with age and exposure to the elements so a new permanent wall was built between the two trees - alas this proved too small so to the right of the tree a kadappa was put to seat more . The gutter in front of Nirmala seated the overflow but was a bit distant from the action so a new Kadappa was put up on bricks behind the wall. But despite the modernity it still retained its character and its name - 'The Log "- Javie has captured this scene very eloquently in his sketch that is the mast head for this blog. - The good old days.
Then the constructions started, Kini house went. One of the trees was cut down and the log broken up physically. Hence locationally the watering hole then shifted to the new place where the boys in the pre log era would congregate at - The Tank.
And while the residents of Nirmala Building could finally sleep well on a Saturday night, all hell broke loose around the tank when the clock struck eleven. But for want of alternatives, back to the tank we went every Saturday; the brave ones ever willing to take on any friend roman or countrymen who gave us an ear.
Oh we were accused of immorality, being alcoholics, drug addicts and the like. And while our crime was waking up the neighbours with (not always) harmonious singing, we also knew our limits and when requested nicely would in most instances comply. Sure we did our thing but we had each other to keep us going over the limit. And today I can proudly say that with all the boys that I have spent time with on the log; most are doing extremely well in life.
The log today is still there - not in its old grandeur but as a 3 foot long granite slab; but what is ironical is that it is located in the same place where the earlier log used to be next to one of the trees that has still survived.
It still performs the same role as it did in earlier years. Only now it cuts across the generation gap. The senior citizens use it during the day and the young adults use it post sundown and all are happy.
How do I know? ... Well my father who's 80 sits there every day.
And why does he go there and what does he do there?
Well I've never asked him; just like he never asked me why; or stopped me from going to the log when I was younger.
Monday, March 1, 2010
Straight forward and straight backed
He walked with a straight back with his moustache twirled upwards.
He pulled above his weight and rolled with the punches.
He never shied away from a challenge and was unafraid to challenge.
He was tough on the outside but a softie on the inside.
He was ever willing to assist anyone who sought help from him.
He loved life and lived it to the full...on his terms.
He is unfortunately no more with us.
We will always remember him for the joys he brought to us kids every Diwali; when he lit up the night with the sacks of fireworks.
Rest in peace Raymond Saldanha - may God keep you in his mercy and give your family the strength to cope with large void you have left.
He pulled above his weight and rolled with the punches.
He never shied away from a challenge and was unafraid to challenge.
He was tough on the outside but a softie on the inside.
He was ever willing to assist anyone who sought help from him.
He loved life and lived it to the full...on his terms.
He is unfortunately no more with us.
We will always remember him for the joys he brought to us kids every Diwali; when he lit up the night with the sacks of fireworks.
Rest in peace Raymond Saldanha - may God keep you in his mercy and give your family the strength to cope with large void you have left.
Friday, February 26, 2010
Famous people whose names we don’t know.
Over the years there have been numerous men and (some) women in the colony who have served us and this is a tribute to them.
The Pavwala – the guy who came every evening on is cycle with a rectangular wooden box at the rear that was covered with a dull rexine sheet that was held in place with a used cycle tyre tube. And 2 bags slung on the handles – he went from building to building knocking on doors and handing out kadak or naram pao and then with the pencil stub that was conveniently placed behind his ear would scribble on the wall outside each house the number of pao given to make his hisab at the end of the month.
The Fruit wallah – especially the old man who would leave his stuff between Carl/Germaine and Frankie /Valus house – he was famous for his Aapus
The Bhelwalla – The thin balding old man who every day would come in with his stuff and serve up probably the best bhel and sev puri that any of us have ever had. He knew who like it spicy and who sweet. Who liked the limbu and who the kairi pieces. He passed on and his son continues to serve albeit not with the same commitment as his father.
The Paper walla – The old man in the pristine white dhoti kurta with black jacket over, and his Gandhi topi
The Channawallas, the Gotwal guy, the salt man (dragging his cart with rock salt), the Venus cake/pattice walla, the jari puranawalla, the “Bhaandiiiiyo” people, the newspaper boys, and more.
Along with these were the guys that probably most of us would know
Mintoo – the cable guy
Ramesh the current cleaner/ garbage collector
His predecessors – the family who lived behind Nirmala Building. As kids they frightened us – the parents straight out of a Gabbar singhish era and sons who ran wild – Raju, Gulab and 2 others (one died early – fell of a tree trying to get a kite)
Sunder Lal and Shyam lal the guys who did the istri – Shyam lal and his son still serve the colony to date.
There are vague memories of the old Nepali type gurkha we had in the 70s who was then followed by Ramsingh who lived on Nirmala terrace.
But of all these- the dearest would be Jessie and her sons especially the younger one Anand Lawrence who till date still delivers our milk religiously every day and with the hereditary wide smile.
Thank you all for making my life comfortable – I only wish I had taken the trouble then, to see you as a person and know you by name.
The Pavwala – the guy who came every evening on is cycle with a rectangular wooden box at the rear that was covered with a dull rexine sheet that was held in place with a used cycle tyre tube. And 2 bags slung on the handles – he went from building to building knocking on doors and handing out kadak or naram pao and then with the pencil stub that was conveniently placed behind his ear would scribble on the wall outside each house the number of pao given to make his hisab at the end of the month.
The Fruit wallah – especially the old man who would leave his stuff between Carl/Germaine and Frankie /Valus house – he was famous for his Aapus
The Bhelwalla – The thin balding old man who every day would come in with his stuff and serve up probably the best bhel and sev puri that any of us have ever had. He knew who like it spicy and who sweet. Who liked the limbu and who the kairi pieces. He passed on and his son continues to serve albeit not with the same commitment as his father.
The Paper walla – The old man in the pristine white dhoti kurta with black jacket over, and his Gandhi topi
The Channawallas, the Gotwal guy, the salt man (dragging his cart with rock salt), the Venus cake/pattice walla, the jari puranawalla, the “Bhaandiiiiyo” people, the newspaper boys, and more.
Along with these were the guys that probably most of us would know
Mintoo – the cable guy
Ramesh the current cleaner/ garbage collector
His predecessors – the family who lived behind Nirmala Building. As kids they frightened us – the parents straight out of a Gabbar singhish era and sons who ran wild – Raju, Gulab and 2 others (one died early – fell of a tree trying to get a kite)
Sunder Lal and Shyam lal the guys who did the istri – Shyam lal and his son still serve the colony to date.
There are vague memories of the old Nepali type gurkha we had in the 70s who was then followed by Ramsingh who lived on Nirmala terrace.
But of all these- the dearest would be Jessie and her sons especially the younger one Anand Lawrence who till date still delivers our milk religiously every day and with the hereditary wide smile.
Thank you all for making my life comfortable – I only wish I had taken the trouble then, to see you as a person and know you by name.
Marriages made in...Marinagar
Trying to recreate the original content from Javies site
Here are some of those who took "love thy neighbor " seriously, who got and stayed hooked.
Noel & Chitra
Jude & Janet
Tony & Lourdine
Michael & Ninette
Louis & Jas
Savio & Tessie
Kevin & Noelene
Eustace & Nirmala
Derek & Germaine
Crescent & Michelle
Robert & Sandy
Ivan & Andrea
Christopher & Coleen
there is 1 more couple to this list whose names i cannot remember.
Clayton/Cheryl/Christos parents (Frank & savios sister to the guy from Nithya Sahya Gr floor)
Here are some of those who took "love thy neighbor " seriously, who got and stayed hooked.
Noel & Chitra
Jude & Janet
Tony & Lourdine
Michael & Ninette
Louis & Jas
Savio & Tessie
Kevin & Noelene
Eustace & Nirmala
Derek & Germaine
Crescent & Michelle
Robert & Sandy
Ivan & Andrea
Christopher & Coleen
there is 1 more couple to this list whose names i cannot remember.
Clayton/Cheryl/Christos parents (Frank & savios sister to the guy from Nithya Sahya Gr floor)
There is hope
1. Regret not taking a back up of Javies earlier marinagar website - thought that everything on the net was for posterity - did not expect yahoo! to dump geocities and all its contents. - but there is hope - will try to recreate content that i remember and look forward to you refreshing my memory
2. Regret not scaning the photo albums that we have of the colony; so i can post all those old photos - but there is hope, I think i can get my hand on a few of those albums - it will take time but we'll have them up here. Besides if any of you have old photographs, please share and i can post them. Neil Monty - you have some old scanned images - please share.
2. Regret not scaning the photo albums that we have of the colony; so i can post all those old photos - but there is hope, I think i can get my hand on a few of those albums - it will take time but we'll have them up here. Besides if any of you have old photographs, please share and i can post them. Neil Monty - you have some old scanned images - please share.
Go fly a kite
There was a small window of opportunity when summer was just ending and the beginning of the monsoons which was the Kite season. This was the time when the sky was dotted with paper kites flown from playgrounds, roads, terraces and roofs.
And despite Marinagar not being so kite crazy; there were a few diehard fans, who not only brought joy to the onlookers but also introduced us to a whole new vocabulary.
The onset of kite season necessitated climbing onto the lofts to bring out the ‘firki’ with the old ‘manjha’. Then borrowing another firkin to unravel the manjha to check that the knots connecting the different types of manjha were tight and there were no ‘ghasras’ on the manjha.
Then was the trip to the kitewallah who sat next to Cafe Tarzan in a 3ft wide by 8ft high shop with huge firkis of coloured manjha above his head and layers of kites f all different colours arranged by size and price behind him. The popular buys for the Marinagar boys was the white ‘dhaga' which was bought in rolls and went onto the firkin first, then was the ‘badami’ the orange manjha coated with ground glass and the black ‘barik’ manjha that went last on the firkin. This fine manjha needed to be the sharpest at that is what was used in kite fights to cut the other kite.
Also important was the choice of the kites. While colour was not so important, one needed to check whether the bamboo strips were even and that the kite had balance. There was also the flexibility test of holding the outer ends of the kite and bending inwards and releasing to see if the kite returned t original shape.
Firkis ready. Kites bought, ‘kannis’ tied (will not get into the debate as to which was the best kanni – 0-0, 1-0 or 2 -1; this would require a blog by itself) you needed to check in which direction the wind was blowing before you started flying. Down the years we learnt that in the morning you needed to have your back to the Rly station and fly east west and reverse the direction in the evening.
Since majority of the flying happened in the evening, I will focus on the west east direction – viz standing near the statue and flying towards the station while keeping the manjha between the telephone line that ran between 1st floor Nirmala building to Aunty Cassies house and the rope running from the Nirmala terrace to the Coconut tree in front of Aunty Cassie that was left behind once the Christmas star was removed.
To achieve this feat you needed somebody to stand a few feet in front of the telephone wire and “hoist’ the kite which the person flying needed to ‘ghasit ‘ to get height and give ’deel’ so that the kite drifted between the 2 obstacles and soared upwards.
While the statue was the choice location of the boys from Mahim Mata and Nirmala, the guys from the blocks (especially) Lala (Harold Hopkins) would fly from between the blocks and the ‘kabrasthan’ wall while the Fatima boys would fly from the ‘bhaji vada’. And in order not to have kite fights between each other, the younger boys were sent as messengers to inform of which kite was being flown by whom and more importantly whose manjha we should not steal when a kite went ‘gool’
You also needed to be careful during kite flying season, the manjha cuts on the fingers were part of the game but the manjha cuts across the face and necks of guys on bikes running into dragging manjha were horrendous. Also it was dangerous for the guys chasing after kites that can “sailing’. These guys with their ‘laggas’ would sprint across rods etc not looking down – but up in the air rising their lives for a kite.
But in marinagar the most dangerous part was wearing elastic banded pants while flying a kite as you never knew who would come up behind you and pull your pants down – the great fun would then be to watch how the guy would react and the time taken to figure out that he needed to pull his pants up first before letting his kite ‘dive’ out of control. (Karl pulling down Taytons (Claytons)pants and clayton chasing Karl around half of Mahim, is already part of Marinagar folklore)
Kite flying require skills and some of the most skilful kite artists I were, Sana (Hanson) Lala, Lutloot (Louis) – apologies if I’ve missed out any other of these artists. But these guys in my books were the best. There were other who had specialised skills. No one could wrap the manjha on a firkin faster than depato - his skill was to turn the firkin upside down, turn his back to the direction the kite is in and reel in the manjha from between his legs at tremendous speed.
I was also great, I hoisted well, I could tie a mean kanni, I could do the “operations” (fixing broken sticks on kites with sticks from other broken kites), I could put ‘weights’ on the kites to make them turn better one way or another, I could use the ‘chikam patti” with surgical sill on torn kites, I could use my big hands to wrap manjha well and also had a decent speed in wrapping manjha on a firki.
The only thing I couldn’t do then and still can’t do even now is... fly a goddamn kite.
And despite Marinagar not being so kite crazy; there were a few diehard fans, who not only brought joy to the onlookers but also introduced us to a whole new vocabulary.
The onset of kite season necessitated climbing onto the lofts to bring out the ‘firki’ with the old ‘manjha’. Then borrowing another firkin to unravel the manjha to check that the knots connecting the different types of manjha were tight and there were no ‘ghasras’ on the manjha.
Then was the trip to the kitewallah who sat next to Cafe Tarzan in a 3ft wide by 8ft high shop with huge firkis of coloured manjha above his head and layers of kites f all different colours arranged by size and price behind him. The popular buys for the Marinagar boys was the white ‘dhaga' which was bought in rolls and went onto the firkin first, then was the ‘badami’ the orange manjha coated with ground glass and the black ‘barik’ manjha that went last on the firkin. This fine manjha needed to be the sharpest at that is what was used in kite fights to cut the other kite.
Also important was the choice of the kites. While colour was not so important, one needed to check whether the bamboo strips were even and that the kite had balance. There was also the flexibility test of holding the outer ends of the kite and bending inwards and releasing to see if the kite returned t original shape.
Firkis ready. Kites bought, ‘kannis’ tied (will not get into the debate as to which was the best kanni – 0-0, 1-0 or 2 -1; this would require a blog by itself) you needed to check in which direction the wind was blowing before you started flying. Down the years we learnt that in the morning you needed to have your back to the Rly station and fly east west and reverse the direction in the evening.
Since majority of the flying happened in the evening, I will focus on the west east direction – viz standing near the statue and flying towards the station while keeping the manjha between the telephone line that ran between 1st floor Nirmala building to Aunty Cassies house and the rope running from the Nirmala terrace to the Coconut tree in front of Aunty Cassie that was left behind once the Christmas star was removed.
To achieve this feat you needed somebody to stand a few feet in front of the telephone wire and “hoist’ the kite which the person flying needed to ‘ghasit ‘ to get height and give ’deel’ so that the kite drifted between the 2 obstacles and soared upwards.
While the statue was the choice location of the boys from Mahim Mata and Nirmala, the guys from the blocks (especially) Lala (Harold Hopkins) would fly from between the blocks and the ‘kabrasthan’ wall while the Fatima boys would fly from the ‘bhaji vada’. And in order not to have kite fights between each other, the younger boys were sent as messengers to inform of which kite was being flown by whom and more importantly whose manjha we should not steal when a kite went ‘gool’
You also needed to be careful during kite flying season, the manjha cuts on the fingers were part of the game but the manjha cuts across the face and necks of guys on bikes running into dragging manjha were horrendous. Also it was dangerous for the guys chasing after kites that can “sailing’. These guys with their ‘laggas’ would sprint across rods etc not looking down – but up in the air rising their lives for a kite.
But in marinagar the most dangerous part was wearing elastic banded pants while flying a kite as you never knew who would come up behind you and pull your pants down – the great fun would then be to watch how the guy would react and the time taken to figure out that he needed to pull his pants up first before letting his kite ‘dive’ out of control. (Karl pulling down Taytons (Claytons)pants and clayton chasing Karl around half of Mahim, is already part of Marinagar folklore)
Kite flying require skills and some of the most skilful kite artists I were, Sana (Hanson) Lala, Lutloot (Louis) – apologies if I’ve missed out any other of these artists. But these guys in my books were the best. There were other who had specialised skills. No one could wrap the manjha on a firkin faster than depato - his skill was to turn the firkin upside down, turn his back to the direction the kite is in and reel in the manjha from between his legs at tremendous speed.
I was also great, I hoisted well, I could tie a mean kanni, I could do the “operations” (fixing broken sticks on kites with sticks from other broken kites), I could put ‘weights’ on the kites to make them turn better one way or another, I could use the ‘chikam patti” with surgical sill on torn kites, I could use my big hands to wrap manjha well and also had a decent speed in wrapping manjha on a firki.
The only thing I couldn’t do then and still can’t do even now is... fly a goddamn kite.
Friday, February 12, 2010
I want to ride my bicycle, i want to ride my bike
Oh, how we'd wait for the summer holidays to come, because other than going for morning runs and heading to the club it was bicycle time.
All the kids in the colony zipping around on bicycles hired from Hemant or Rocky. And though loyalty demanded we hire from Rocky (him being a colony boy), Hemant was closer so you didn't have to tackle traffic and you reached the colony faster.
Hiring a cycle for an hour, zipping around the blocks, trying to avoid the stones in the path, aunties returning from the market with their black Goa Bags and making sure you didnt get into the soft mud that could make you skid was fun. But the excitement of groups of us tackling traffic outside the colony and riding to Juhu beach had its own satisfaction.
If learning to ride was tough, learning to mount was even tougher, you needed to graslp both handles, have your left foot on the left pedal, propel the bike forward with your right foot and when you got enough traction, lean on your left leg and simultaneously lift your right leg over the seat and onto the right pedal wth your butt ftting onto the seat at the same time, and ensuring continuity of the motion. Once you mastered this, it became art of the system which like bicycle riding; one never forgot.
The guys we admired were the ones who never mounted the cycle; they just ran along their cycles and when they had enough momentum jumped on and sped away. I tried it once. Had to stop take deep breaths and touch my toes, to take away the pain from those private and sensitive parts that had made violent contact with the metal part of the seat.
The biggest challenge when hiring a cycle was keeping track of time, asking every aunty or uncle the time at regular intervals, so as not to be late to return the cycle after the hour was up; and be charged extra. There was however no pleasure greater that going back to Hemant with the ubiquitous question "Uncle time ho gaya" and having "Aur Paach minut" barked at you in that gravelly voice of his.
If you talk cycles in Marinagar, you cannot ignore the D'souza Brothers of 20, Fatima who were obsessed with 2 wheeers of any kind (maybe some day i will write a post on their motor bikes as well).
Sylvester had a Flying Pigeon, Indias First racing bike and he loved the speed. He woud do Marinagar to St Michaels Church via Mori Rd in under 1 minute; something the other guys laughed at, but when they tried it; they never succeeded . He lived on his bike and rode it to work daily. Now you need to remember that Silu then worked in L&T Powai and it was not a short diatance. But Silu loved riding and loved speed and on numerous occasions would on his cycle beat my dad who drove to work in his trusty Fiat at the same location.
Silu is also notorious for the time he left home in a huff and cycled all the way to Goa. A broken fork and exhaustion notwithstanding, he made it there in 24 hours. Just to put this into perspective - today the buses running between BBy and Goa take approx 14 hours to reach on much broader and better roads.
But if Silu loved riding, he had great inspiration from his elder brother Mike who was passionate about it. Mike was the guy who started the cycling craze. I do not think that there is any other guy in the colony who has ridden further than him. Mike has under his belt cycle expeditions to all the way to Agra, and am not too sure whether he made it to Delhi as well on that trip but if ever he reads this I hope he does confirm the same.
Mike had this racer bike that had an Aluminium frame and the thin racing tyres. This bike was imported from the UK and it was one of the first that any of us saw that had bent handles and gears. Mike loved this bike,and it served him well on all his rides across the country and for the races to Poona. On this bike he won the cycling races at the annual Hindustan Lever Sports for 15 years running.
I loved this bike too. Ccoz when my cycle was stolen; Mike ( who had graduated to Mortor bikes by then) generously let me have this cycle for my use. I used it for years through school and college till it finally crumbled with age.
This bike gave me freedom go out and explore areas and things outside of the colony and Mahim and I will always be grateful to Mike for his generosity that allowed me this opportunity.
Thanks Mike.
All the kids in the colony zipping around on bicycles hired from Hemant or Rocky. And though loyalty demanded we hire from Rocky (him being a colony boy), Hemant was closer so you didn't have to tackle traffic and you reached the colony faster.
Hiring a cycle for an hour, zipping around the blocks, trying to avoid the stones in the path, aunties returning from the market with their black Goa Bags and making sure you didnt get into the soft mud that could make you skid was fun. But the excitement of groups of us tackling traffic outside the colony and riding to Juhu beach had its own satisfaction.
If learning to ride was tough, learning to mount was even tougher, you needed to graslp both handles, have your left foot on the left pedal, propel the bike forward with your right foot and when you got enough traction, lean on your left leg and simultaneously lift your right leg over the seat and onto the right pedal wth your butt ftting onto the seat at the same time, and ensuring continuity of the motion. Once you mastered this, it became art of the system which like bicycle riding; one never forgot.
The guys we admired were the ones who never mounted the cycle; they just ran along their cycles and when they had enough momentum jumped on and sped away. I tried it once. Had to stop take deep breaths and touch my toes, to take away the pain from those private and sensitive parts that had made violent contact with the metal part of the seat.
The biggest challenge when hiring a cycle was keeping track of time, asking every aunty or uncle the time at regular intervals, so as not to be late to return the cycle after the hour was up; and be charged extra. There was however no pleasure greater that going back to Hemant with the ubiquitous question "Uncle time ho gaya" and having "Aur Paach minut" barked at you in that gravelly voice of his.
If you talk cycles in Marinagar, you cannot ignore the D'souza Brothers of 20, Fatima who were obsessed with 2 wheeers of any kind (maybe some day i will write a post on their motor bikes as well).
Sylvester had a Flying Pigeon, Indias First racing bike and he loved the speed. He woud do Marinagar to St Michaels Church via Mori Rd in under 1 minute; something the other guys laughed at, but when they tried it; they never succeeded . He lived on his bike and rode it to work daily. Now you need to remember that Silu then worked in L&T Powai and it was not a short diatance. But Silu loved riding and loved speed and on numerous occasions would on his cycle beat my dad who drove to work in his trusty Fiat at the same location.
Silu is also notorious for the time he left home in a huff and cycled all the way to Goa. A broken fork and exhaustion notwithstanding, he made it there in 24 hours. Just to put this into perspective - today the buses running between BBy and Goa take approx 14 hours to reach on much broader and better roads.
But if Silu loved riding, he had great inspiration from his elder brother Mike who was passionate about it. Mike was the guy who started the cycling craze. I do not think that there is any other guy in the colony who has ridden further than him. Mike has under his belt cycle expeditions to all the way to Agra, and am not too sure whether he made it to Delhi as well on that trip but if ever he reads this I hope he does confirm the same.
Mike had this racer bike that had an Aluminium frame and the thin racing tyres. This bike was imported from the UK and it was one of the first that any of us saw that had bent handles and gears. Mike loved this bike,and it served him well on all his rides across the country and for the races to Poona. On this bike he won the cycling races at the annual Hindustan Lever Sports for 15 years running.
I loved this bike too. Ccoz when my cycle was stolen; Mike ( who had graduated to Mortor bikes by then) generously let me have this cycle for my use. I used it for years through school and college till it finally crumbled with age.
This bike gave me freedom go out and explore areas and things outside of the colony and Mahim and I will always be grateful to Mike for his generosity that allowed me this opportunity.
Thanks Mike.
Thursday, February 11, 2010
Every dog has its day
Marinagar may have been home to many of us; but it has also been a haven for birds, buterflies, blood suckers and of course dogs.
Pedigrees, strays, mixed breeds or the most ferocious pariahs, all found shelter in homes, the buildings or in and between the blocks.
Most of us would have seen our first of some dog breeds in the colony and so i take the liberty of naming some of the dogs and owners i remember.
I do not have the permission from the owners, but hope the fact that the pets they cared for are remembered should gladden their hearts and bring back fond memories.
The Top dogs i recollect.
The Misquitta's Tuk Tuk, the brown daschund who had Midget for company and then subsequent litters of daschunds with too many names to remember.
Next door to them, the Monteiros had Simba the bulldog.
The Rodricks had the lovable Peppy, a black Cocker Spaniel who had a sibling whose name i canot remember right now in the Gama Rose household . Marshal & Meena had Nessie the black and white Pom.
The Passanah's had Rover, The Fernandes brothers had a brown dog whose name escapes me. Michael gifted Ninette with one puppy that did not survive too long and then with Snoopy who did.
Mike and his brothers had qite a few dogs, but i remember Snowy best.
Other than these, the Talkers have had a menagerie of dogs - names unknown, there was also a Shando, a devil, and the very creatively named Blackie and Brownie.
There still are dogs and dog lovers in Marinagar but their days are over. Now the Cats rule... Thanks Jessica, Thanks Nobby.
Pedigrees, strays, mixed breeds or the most ferocious pariahs, all found shelter in homes, the buildings or in and between the blocks.
Most of us would have seen our first of some dog breeds in the colony and so i take the liberty of naming some of the dogs and owners i remember.
I do not have the permission from the owners, but hope the fact that the pets they cared for are remembered should gladden their hearts and bring back fond memories.
The Top dogs i recollect.
The Misquitta's Tuk Tuk, the brown daschund who had Midget for company and then subsequent litters of daschunds with too many names to remember.
Next door to them, the Monteiros had Simba the bulldog.
The Rodricks had the lovable Peppy, a black Cocker Spaniel who had a sibling whose name i canot remember right now in the Gama Rose household . Marshal & Meena had Nessie the black and white Pom.
The Passanah's had Rover, The Fernandes brothers had a brown dog whose name escapes me. Michael gifted Ninette with one puppy that did not survive too long and then with Snoopy who did.
Mike and his brothers had qite a few dogs, but i remember Snowy best.
Other than these, the Talkers have had a menagerie of dogs - names unknown, there was also a Shando, a devil, and the very creatively named Blackie and Brownie.
There still are dogs and dog lovers in Marinagar but their days are over. Now the Cats rule... Thanks Jessica, Thanks Nobby.
isn't she lovely
Ever since i can remember, she has been dressed in white standing there alone with her child watching eveyone in the colony on their way to and from school, work or the market. At play or at prayer.
I have been told before she took up her current position, she used to stand else where. Then on account of some construction she had to move and has now been here since.
She has witnessed every thing that has gone on for years, silently and protectively.
As she stood they first put roof over her head, then they built a garden around her, but in time that too withered and died, till a more permanent structure was erected to protect her an her son.
There have been numerous occasions where a stray shot or unintended kick caused damage to her sons hands, which were then lovingly put back together.
The years have been kind to her but i remember clearly the year she had a breakdown. It was 1992 when a helper to an unfriendly parish priest lost balance and held onto her for protection. Being old and weak, she was unable to support his weight and came tumbling down with him.
From being ignored or just dismissed, she came to be sorely missed and while there were cries of outrage, talks, debates and promises that she would be replaced there was very little action.
And as always it was the boys in the colony who decided enough was enough. Pitching together, they nursed her back to health and helped her stand again.
She has since then shed the white she always wore, for a new blue coat. But she still stands there, day and night, rain or shine waiting for her children of all ages to come back home safely.
She has watched over generations for decades and we hope she will continue to watch over the coming generations for years to come.
We always seek your bessings O Mother Mary and ask you to protect us and our families as you have always done; whether we still live in the colony that is dedicated to your name or have moved away be with us, guide us and protect us always.
I have been told before she took up her current position, she used to stand else where. Then on account of some construction she had to move and has now been here since.
She has witnessed every thing that has gone on for years, silently and protectively.
As she stood they first put roof over her head, then they built a garden around her, but in time that too withered and died, till a more permanent structure was erected to protect her an her son.
There have been numerous occasions where a stray shot or unintended kick caused damage to her sons hands, which were then lovingly put back together.
The years have been kind to her but i remember clearly the year she had a breakdown. It was 1992 when a helper to an unfriendly parish priest lost balance and held onto her for protection. Being old and weak, she was unable to support his weight and came tumbling down with him.
From being ignored or just dismissed, she came to be sorely missed and while there were cries of outrage, talks, debates and promises that she would be replaced there was very little action.
And as always it was the boys in the colony who decided enough was enough. Pitching together, they nursed her back to health and helped her stand again.
She has since then shed the white she always wore, for a new blue coat. But she still stands there, day and night, rain or shine waiting for her children of all ages to come back home safely.
She has watched over generations for decades and we hope she will continue to watch over the coming generations for years to come.
We always seek your bessings O Mother Mary and ask you to protect us and our families as you have always done; whether we still live in the colony that is dedicated to your name or have moved away be with us, guide us and protect us always.
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