The recently turned Desi Boy

The only times I think Sanil is unlike me are:


1) When he does things slowly (and not chop-chop-chop like his mama)
2) Refused to try bhel puri (why?????)
3) And has not taken to Hindi movies (how?????)- though his penchant for drama is heavily borrowed from the Hindi cine world

I am a die-hard Hindi movie buff as anyone who knows me knows. One of my old friends used to call me “filmy” and my niece has been trained by my sister to call me “Bolly maasi”. So when Sanil did not naturally gravitate towards Hindi movies I was a tad bit disappointed.

Well then naturally I was very surprised when he told me yesterday that he liked the song “Zoobie Doobie, Zoobie Doobie…..hoon paagal stupid main”. Errr its paagal stupid mann”. But Sanil refused to believe me until he heard the lyrics on my iPod. (Sanil is ALWAYS right until proven wrong by someone who is not his mother).

He actually wanted to perform a solo dance number on Rock On!! at his mamaa’s Sangeet. Rehearsed it even! He refused at the last minute much to my intense relief as he has inherited the legendary Punwani-men 2 left feet, even though he refuses to acknowledge it).

He even pointed to some random hoarding and recognized Hritik Roshan and admitted to kinda liking the Desi Girl song. WOKAY!

Guess Sanil just needed the Bombay ki hawa to convert him. May be if we stay longer, he will give bhel puri a try too :)

Bombay- My city: Now and Then

A poem written by Seema on 10 Dec 2008
(post terrorist attacks on her city Bombay)

Mera Shehar Mujhe Lauta Do…
Nahin saha jata hai yeh ab,
Nahin dekha jata hai yeh sab,
Mera shehar mera nahin raha,
Mere aasoon us ke liye bahein.

Woh ek din tha, jab waqt thama,
Jab saansein rooki,
Jab ek hakeeqat bani,
Jo ek sadmein se thi sangeen.

Jab sapnay tootein,
Jab jaane looti,
Jab dehshat faili,
Jab zakham khule.

Jab aakhen hui num,
Jab dil mein they gum,
Jab jaan thi baaki,
Pur uski ahmiyat thi kum.

Aasoon ruk ne sakein,
Soch ho gayi baawli,
Uthe sau sawaal,
Pur jawaab they khali.

Ab kya? Ab kya? Ab kya?
Is ke aage hoga kya?

Hum phir badenge?
Hum phir sahenge?
Hum phir hasenge?
Aur yeh kahenge…
“Jaane do, rehne do?
“Bhool jaao, aage bado?”

Yeh ab nahin hai mumkin,
Is baar bahut tadap hai shaamil,
Ab shensheelta ki nahin hai baari,
Ab uthani hai awaaz hamari.

“NAHIN badenge”,
“NAHIN sahenge”,
“NAHIN hasenge”,
Aur yeh kahenge…

“Jaago! Kuch karo!”
“Sar utha ke jeeyo,
Yaan is hi tarah marte raho”.

Mera shehar mujhe lauta do,
Mera vishwaas mujhe dila do,
Tootne na do mere hoslein,
Buland karo phir se mere sapnay.

Mera shehar mujhe lauta do…
Mera shehar mujhe lauta do….

______________________________________________________________

A poem written by Seema on her city Bombay 10 years ago
(Aug 1998)

Mera shehar

Woh elco ki pani puri, woh chowpatty ki chaat,
Woh Naturals ki ice cream, Wah usme thi kuch baat.

Woh tewari ki mithai, woh raste ka dosa,
Woh shivsagar ki pav bhaji aur Guru Kripa ka samosa.

Woh local train ka ‘suffer’, woh juhu beach ki hawa,
Woh chowpatty ke tange aur joggers park ka sama.

Woh december ki zara si sardi, woh baarishon ke mahine,
Woh garmi ki chuttiyan, jab chute te they paseene.

Woh holi ki masti, woh navratri ka garba,
Woh divali ke patakhe aur ganpati ka shor o sharaba.

Woh peak hours ki traffic, woh BEST ki rush,
Woh tadapti garmi mien, Snowmans ka ek kala khatta slush.

Woh Juhu beach ka mohol, woh samunder ki leheren,
Woh doobte suraj ka nazara, Wah uske kya kehene.

Woh Sterling ka pop corn aur Cotton World mein shopping,
Woh Fashion Street ka nazara aur Nariman Point ki buildings.

Woh cinema ke queue, woh black ki tickets,
Woh Shivaji Park ka maidan, jahan bachche practice karte hain cricket.

Itni cheezen kehene ke baad, aur kitni karoon mein badaee,
Yeh shehar hain mera apna, jiska naam hai MUMBAI !!!!!!!!