dahi handi at devipada

the pleasure of riding wild in an open back truck with your friends screaming and shouting to drumbeats; the cloudy sky, the intermittent rain, the mud caked on your t-shirt and shorts- a uniform in red, yellow, white and of course saffron. testosterone reeking in the air as the women wait on the truck waiting for the men to return. the men meanwhile form a mad throng of people- a sea from where human pyramids rise and fall in competition. winners are announced over the blaring microphone. and gifts of money by local goons and politicians are passed around. meanwhile, the big prize hangs high above with a garland and an indian flag, hung from a crane. 

the ground is the leftover of a slum that was moved onto the rehab building that forms the backdrop for the pyramids; the sale component will take the place of the ground. its image stands tall against the silver boundary wall on the highway.'ambrosia' it is to be called. not 'dahi' for the govindas.

kites

manoj is passionate and terrific at flying kites. in santacruz the terraces were full of veg food with drinks parties and men with bleeding fingers- manoj's included. we took turns pretending we were flying too only after manoj had done the hard work of lifting the kite into the sky. in the evening when the vodka came out around us still lanterns with lights lifted into the sky and fireworks exploded over vile parle.

a black and white christmas

at i.c. colony this years crib.

everything we want, everything we need

walking down the dusk at the fair today. the church square, the mandapeshwar caves, the playground, the streets overflowing with everything we want, everything we need.