Left-Right, Tick-Tock; Grand Old...

Left-Right, Tick-Tock; Grand Old...

At about 6:30 this evening, my dad and I left for our lawyer's office at Marine Lines. We decided not to travel by car and went by train. The same 9 match boxes we used to use to travel before 1997, when we did not own a car. I remember how I used to be in tow, dad taking me to Mafatlal swimming pool. We would have jalebis and gathiyas after the exercise.

So, we got down and on Marine Lines station, and walked to the lawyer’s office.

Of left-right and tick-tock:
Getting off one of the 9 match boxes, we started walking towards the lawyer’s office. It was the evening rush hour and on one of the two lanes of the narrow roads and the narrower footpaths, were so many people moving at a constant speed, in one direction as if hypnotised all at once, towards Marine Lines station. They were all so precisely spaced, like not even Shiamak Davar's dancers are on stage, and a lot of them were synchronised. It was like an army... left-right, left-right. Their one free hand moved like the pendulum in my grandfather's clock... tick-tock, tick-tock.

Grand-old things, grimy and beautiful:
So, my dad and I, we entered into one of the old grimy buildings there. It was old and grand: dusty, grey all right, but it made a very aesthetic appeal to me. It had this amazing vibe. On the first floor was the small-cause court lawyer's office. The lawyer too was a grand old man of 86 years. His tie was loosened, and his hand shivered; but the man was in total control. He had this amazing vibe...

The amazing middle-class:
Dad had left for work at 8am and we left for the lawyer's office the moment he returned. We were there till 9pm. The man at 58, just works ceaselessly! It feels good to be working with him these days. I know that this isn't any exceptional case of a hard-working man making it on his own. One thing I've noticed though, these are men of modest means, by any measure of comparison with us twenty-year-old-sons.

Enemy:
In the lawyer's office, was a sticker that read: "If your enemy is hungry, feed him. If your enemy is thirsty, give him to drink. This will heap burning coals on his head." Above this sticker, was Mahatma Gandhi's portrait. Don't know what it was supposed to mean....

So, we climbed into one match box of another 9 match boxes and returned to home. Had dinner, watched Indian Idol....

Goodnight!