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.

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)

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.