We meet so many different people. I noticed that if you meet happy people, their happiness gets transferred and you feel happy too. We get connected to the place from where the divine essence is
transmitted. Such places always stay in our memories, memories more effectively for the people who were there.

The story dates back to the 2019, when I was pursuing my master’s in urban design. Every semester we had to study different cities and emerge our project out of it. That year we were assigned to study Talegaon
town. Talegaon Dabhade is a town that has grown around two lakes close to Indrayani River. It lies in Maval Taluka in Pune district between Mumbai and Pune.

One fine day I & my team we were all set & ready to leave. We had done our train booking to Talegaon. We commenced our journey early morning from Dadar. Luckily the monsoon season was on. The journey was mesmerizing with picturesque views straight outside our windows. The journey routes cover absolutely enthralling and diverse landscapes – foggy mountain slopes, narrow valley’s, tunnels and falling out over the wide sea. The journey was nothing short of a dream!! After reaching Talegaon, we immediately hired an auto rickshaw to hotel. Arriving at the hotel we completed our check in formalities and got into our respective room for fresh up. Later we meet at a restaurant for lunch followed by group discussion. Our squad of 7 split into a groups by dividing the whole town into three parts to make our site study manageable and convenient . The site allotted to me was exactly two distinct sections of town i.e. One part covering the old core area and second one covers the new established area at periphery of town.We all proceeded towards our respective sites post lunch.
The core area of town was very dense and congested, so me and my mate decided to cover the peripheral part first as it was spaced.The peripheral part was virtually empty and inactive with a large unused parcel of lands, some incomplete or leftover construction site. It was very lonely and bit scary as we couldn’t trace a single human on the lanes. Finally after riding for hours, we have come across a small house. We call out inside the house, an old man came out in response. We made a brief introduction to us and told him our purpose of visit to town. We asked him if he is ok with interviewing him with few questions. He nodded his head in response. We almost started throwing questions to him, to which he polity answered. Merely, after looking at our over enthusiasm he realized this kids are not going to stop. He cut our conversation in between and said pointing to house some few kilometers from his place “My elder brother stays there, he is well versed with Talegaon and its history .He will help you out with all data. You can go and meet him “. We thanked him for his kind assistance and proceed towards his brother’s house.

The house was pretty larger than the previous house. The house had a huge and pretty front yard. The yard was graced with nearly straight rows of pot growing colorful flowers. One distinct thing about the garden was, every pot was growing different varieties of blossoms .There was a small verandah in front of the house with a wooden bench on which an old lady was sitting reading newspaper. I saw her draped in cotton saree that went up to her knees. Her fair face was wrinkled, but the lines on her face, made her look sweet. We approached to her and gave our introduction, followed by the reference of the old man we met before. She greeted us with a smile and ask us to wait as her husband was busy in the back yard. She screamed out for him” Aho hi mule Mumbai hun ali ahet, kahitari mahiti have ahe, ya lavkar baher” (This kid from Mumbai wants some information about Talegaon from you, come out soon).

After a while, the old man came out of the house. Fair and tall with forehead totally covered with deep wrinkles. Bushy white brows, frowned from time to time, making those wrinkles even deeper, and all this gave the old man’s face a strict expression. His pointy face was framed with short thinning hair, and accurate small beard, which he was stroking once in a while. We greeted him and told our background and purpose of visit. The old man gave us a firm look and before we could even start interviewing him. He set off a reverse interrogation.” Who are you?? Architects? As per my knowledge architects never do such work of roaming across interviewing people & all” .His tone was biting hard and crude. But still with little patience, we tried to explain him our master course and its requirements. He nodded his head in response, but his face indicated that he wasn’t much convinced with us.
( I opined in my mind that we are not going to earn any information from him & visiting this house might be a simple waste of time).
Later ,looking at the pages we were carrying he asked what are those map? We showed him the map extracted from Google and explain him how we had carved up our project followed by some basic information we had pre-researched about Talegaon. He exclaimed back in irritating tone ” You already have much information about town, so why have you come here and disturbing us at this hours.”
I almost about to lose my temper decided to leave the place immediately. I apologize to him for getting his precious time and thanking him ,was about to leave the house when this old lady (wife) shouted from behind” Aree tumcha kaam jhala pan, milali sagli information ” (You are done with your work so early, got all information you needed).I was about to recite the entire incident, to which my partner interrupted in between saying ” No grandma, uncle seems to be busy with his work and we don’t want to disturb him”. “It was nice to meet you”. She immediately replied back, “What work, from when he started getting busy. All the day is sitting ideal either reading newspaperor books. You guys relax and sit here, I will try to narrate you about Talegaon as much as I know.

We took a seat on the bench and she started narrating her story , I was born in Pune, after marriage I came to Talegaon and settled in this house. My husband was involved in glass manufacturing and had glass factory here. But for his business work he had to travel to Mumbai almost every week. As the days went along it became difficult for him to travel, so we took a decision to shift our stay to Mumbai. We stayed in Mumbai for nearly 30years.She being nostalgic, shared a look filled with too much emotions visible in eyes at her husband, and they had quick eye contact. The moment was so pure and felt like pausing it for a while. Surprisingly,after this scene, the Oldman took over the entire conversation and continued the narration, “Life in Mumbai was very busy and hectic. I had expanded my business and achieved big success and money. We got two kids and were happily living. Time flew fast, didn’t realize 30years passed, but there wasn’t a day when we not miss Talegaon. On our 50th anniversary, we took a decision to shift back to Talegaon as both our kids were settled and we were also missing Talegaon and our house.

One fine day we switched back to Talegaon. Reaching here, we both were shocked looking at the transformation Talegaon had been through. They were no more houses around us, the old people had sold their estates to private builder and developers. There were all big huge residential societies, nearly vacant or partially occupied. Most of the nearby farmlands were barren and vacant. Many of our friends have shifted to the main market area for easy access to markets and amenities. Our kids were suggesting us to shift to the core area for safety and security ,but we still chose to stay here at this place, though lonely”. Merely look at it, it’s the original Talegaon ” Silent ,calm, cozy and yet so beautiful”. Not overcrowded and dense like market areas and smiles back to us. This was a mini surprise to us, a picturesque view of grandpa breaking his strong look into a beautiful smile.He told us he also have book on Talegaon’s history and asked us to wait till he gets the book.

Meanwhile we were busy clicking the pictures of their house,the grandma said,” child, please don’t mind the harsh tone of the uncle, he gets rude and grumpy nowadays due to his old-age. He was never used to this steady and lone life, here we hardly have anyone to speak with. Hence he loses his temper frequently, but nothing last for long”.She didn’t even gave us a chance to reply back, she went along talking, Come here I’ll show you my vegetables  garden,holding my hand took us in the backyard of the house. She started showing us each and every plant planted by her. She was good at gardening and love her plants to the moon and back. Later ,She showed us her favorite plant of white mogras.
Those tiny white mogras were reeling
in the sunlight, and the air was charged with perfume, as with her presence. She touched the tiny, pallid flowers on their stem, delicately torn it to give me.
(That tiny fresh flower brought a delicate peace. The happiness of that afternoon was already fixed in my mind, and always would the scent of mogra recalls to my mental sight “The flower not only inspire memories, but also evoke profoundly positive feelings, and an instant connect with her.The entire scene stimulated the part of my brain to create emotions and some unfounded relationship with her.)

I reach her feet to thanks her and told that she is most amazing and beautiful lady I ever met. She was happy with this gesture and hugged me by kissing on my cheek. Love was filled with air and my partner started teasing me, more few minutes and she will unofficially adopt you. Laughing over this we came to the front yard looking for grandpa, if he brought the book for us. Amazingly there was a lady, thin and tall with dark complexion standing out there and arguing with grandpa in a bit louder tone. Grandma got in and immediately interrupting their conversation, ask her to leave and promise here to give one extra bulb from the back yard. Grandpa without uttering a word went inside the house. We cluelessly look at each other, with confused mind whether to ask grandpa about the book or not ,seeming at the return of his angry old man look.

I whispered in soft tones to grandma what the matter? She said pointing to the small structure just outside their compound wall, the lady stays there. The lady and her husband used to work on nearby farms for years. Merely, the land owners sold his farmlands to the private builder and they lost their livelihoods. Grandpa built those small structures for them to live and now they work for us on our farms and helps me with house chores too. Later, after a few years, some of their relatives from village join them and constructed two more rooms. In their presence even we found companions, because at night the area gets dark and scary . So since yesterday, she was complaining about the light cut in her room and with no response she finally drags in to an argument with grandpa .
In between our conversation, grandpa came in from the house with a lightbulb in his hand. And sarcastically said, Go and tell her now if anything happens to this bulb, she has to stay in the dark for a week.(Sharing a look at him ,i really felt bad to judge him at first place and was immensely impressed with his utmost work and care he had for those poor labourers). He came forward to lift the book from the bench and hand it to us followed by a small paper with written phone number and address . He handed the paper to me, saying ” the author is my good friend, you can go and run into his office tomorrow with my reference and get all required information.”. We thanked him by our whole heart and apologize to judge him at first proceed.

I looked at grandma , she kept few lemon candies in my hand, and said ” Eat them throughout your ride it will keep your body hydrated “. I was completely touched by her immense love and care.The way she stood, her back bent, and her eyes searching for something, with her eyebrows knitted, she reminded me of my own grandmother.

Some people are like that. Once you speak to them, they just make you feel at home.I hugged her back and left the place..

TheEastIndianMuseum,Manori

• 

I was in my final year of architecture doing my dissertation. My site was located around the Kolis settlements. This Koli community are the original inhabitants of Mumbai city. Koli settlements commonly known as, Koliwadas are located on the sea shore of fishing communities who still make a
living from the sea.Before getting going with the project, it was crucial to understand the life, history & culture of Kolis.I surfed the internet looking at the museum or galleries looking into history & culture of Kolis. After a long
hours of search, I eventually came across one and only museum dedicated to Kolis, located near Manori.The Manori is part of the Dharavi Bhet belt that also includes Gorai & attain. Alphi D’Souza was the Sarpanch of Gaothan Panchayat and caretaker of the museum. I somehow managed to make his number from the internet and book a museum visit the following day.
The museum was located inside the manor village. After taking a jetty from, I finally landed to Manori.Outside jetty there was a line of rickshaws, but the irony of this was, most of rickshaw alas wasn’t even cognizant of the museum. Few of them said, It’s too far and we won’t get a passenger from there,
(Lamba hai madam , waha se bhada bhi nhi milta).Finally, after 10-15mins long hunt I manage to get an auto driver agree to take me to the museum.He wasn’t aware of the exact location so I accepted to navigate him throughout by using Google maps. After arriving at the location, the auto driver exclaimed, some hotel name, saying, Beta ye hotel ka naam bolne ka na, ye to muje pata tha. Irony, a new established hotel is a landmark for the area and know by everyone. But an old, rich museum is not even recognizing and known.

• 

Reaching the place, I came across an old villa .The museum was in a wooden villa with a little garden around it, and entrance gate with the name “The East Indian Museum”. I was surprised looking at the villa which was dilapidated and downtrodden looking structure. I was expecting at least average size museum, which we always see. Merely looking at this, I knew this was going to be a different experience although. The museum has been curated by several East Indians from
across Mumbai. Alphi D’Souza, the caretaker took me on a guided tour of the museum.

I was enormously proud of the museum and the community efforts to preserve the East Indian traditions and way of life & culture. There were many artifacts donated by the East Indian families, clothes they wore, and even texts from the earliest times. I also encounter utensils, trunks, pictures and sculptures from the olden times.

The museum takes 10₹ fees from visitors, but since I was a learning student and came all the way to visit the museum, he didn’t call for a single penny from me .I still recall his words ” you are still learning my child and your love and passion towards the rich old history and culture makes me proud that you the future generations adore and respect the old heritage.
Further, He added “We have lived here since the 18th century and have a rich heritage, but, we have been paying a heavy price in the name of development for the longest period of time”. We want to preserve our tradition and culture, we bid to showcase it to everyone. But we hardly get any visitors, and the one who visit comes here to spend their time before sunset. Some even argue to pay 10₹ for
such small structure, stating it’s too much “.We want development, it is important and necessary, but not at losing of the heritage and the lives of the natives.

Impressed with his efforts and passion, I returned back with another bunch of memory and immense learning.
Nature is beautiful and amazing no doubt, but try to visit such hidden gems at least to appreciate the effort of the community to preserve their culture. Your small visits and contribute can help them and motivate to stand strong for longer runs.

An unexpected paragliding experience..

The throwback to my family trip to Shimla, Manali in year 2013.
Rohtang pass was our next visit spot, but since few days there had been a heavy snowfall at high area of Shimla leading to prohibition of tourists to Rohtang valley. At nighttime, when generally our guide narrates the next day plans, informed us that Rohtang pass is closed for tourists and hence the
destination is replaced with Solang valley. I wasn’t very happy with this, Rohtang pass had been an important tourist destination in Shimla package and everyone wants to go, so do I.
The very next morning after covering a few local points, we eventually reached the valley. Solang Valley, is also known as Solang Nala derives its name from a combination of two words – Solang and Nullah. Solang means ‘nearby village’ and Nullah mean “water stream”. The valley was no doubtlessly beautiful
comprised of magnificent slopes of green lawn covered with tall pine trees and surrounded by snow-capped mountains. Besides admiring its picturesque landscapes, Solang Valley was also famous for its various adventures winter sports. Looking around all I could see people skiing in the pure, driven snow, few were zorbing, tumbling down the green slope with transparent sphere and few waiting in queue to enjoy the rope way ride.
After a quick family discussion, we all took a ropeway ride to reach on top of the mountain to catch an entire view of the valley from the top. While we were enjoying our view, l came across the jump station for Paragliding. It was very exciting to witness how people wearing those huge parachutes jumping off the hill to fly in the skies. I told my father I want to this. At start my mother was skeptical about it, but my father easily convinced her and we go forward towards the jumping station. After doing with our ticketing, we reach the jumping spot. There were about 5-6 Paragliding pilots standing in line with
passenger about to fly. One of the pilots took the ticket and started equipping me the harness and slowly walking towards the tip of slope instructing me to jump after his counting. I ask him to wait and go in the next round since the station was already over-filled with riders. But he was in a hurry and said
no-issue, he can cope well. He started to countdown 1,2,3… and before I should leap from the slope, I felt a bit heavier on my shoulder and lower body, I was getting pulled by something and in fraction of seconds before I even realized I fell off from the slope rolling down the hill. My parachute suspension lines, which looks like thin, transparent thread got entangled into other’s parachute lying beside us making it heavier and releasing immense pressure pushing my body.
Everyone around me was panicked and shouting out loud for someone to hold me. My pilot immediately removes his carriage bag and scrolled down to hold me and pulled me up. For a minute everything around me was dark, I was blank and numb. My dad came running from behind, started shouting the pilot. The people around also joined in and started shouting and bawling out at the pilot. The entire episode was frightening, I got a big scratch on my elbows and knees. I completely lost my hope and ask my dad to do it on behalf of me, I don’t want to go now. Dad came forward and by holding my hand, said ” that’s ok if you fall for the first time, but it’s not ok if you give up without even trying for second time”. He boosted me back with the same energy and enthusiasm I had before and I was wholly set to fly again.

Continue reading “The blessed fall …”