Interviewing the tree people

Hello readers!

This is my first interview for the blog... and I think an awesome first.

You may have heard of Project 35 trees. No? Shame shame! Here, read this (I insist!) - https://www.facebook.com/35trees?fref=ts

Hari and Anthony - two guys who are travelling the country and not just planting saplings in every state, but talking to students, locals and more, to spread the green culture. Now, naturally, I had a lot of questions for them... and so I wrote to Hari, who was kind enough to reply to ALL of them without scowling at me. *phew*.

PAITEES PED, DO MAALI! (don't you love me for the title?)

An interview with one of the men behind Project 35 trees – Hari Chakyar.

ME: Hari… Hara… you were born to do this! Do you have some weird story where you were found under a tree by your parents and always dreamt of going back?

HARI: Ae! I am not Mowgli!

ME: If you were a tree, which one would you be and why?

HARI: I would love to be a coconut tree. That way every part of me would be used. Not that I want to feel used but imagine doing something extraordinary with every part of your body and that’ll feel like an unbeatable record.

ME (snidely): Hmm... so you want more coconuts?

ME: Are you Tarzan’s long lost sibling, with more clothes of course?

HARI: Statutory Warning: Swinging on trees is not good for health. Of the trees. Kindly refrain from doing so. Having said that, I would love to live in a forest and gather my own food just like Tarzan. Then I wouldn’t have to shave either. How awesome is that?!

ME: You have a partner in this. You have already claimed green. So what colour is he?

HARI: Anthony Karbhari. Mostly, he’s the blues. He’s the mulling type. He thinks his shots over. You should see the face he makes while at work!

Oh and he also has a few blue t-shirts.

ME: Did you eat a certain type of grass to come up with this idea? I mean, nature inspiring nature of course. What did you think?

HARI: If eating grass and stuff gave you ideas, I should’ve won the Nobel Prize for being a vegetarian by now! But nature did inspire me – all the nature in Sanjay Gandhi National Park and around Karnala Fort. Oh and the Wilson College Nature Club!

ME: How are you funding this? Don’t tell me money plants actually work!

HARI: Oh they do, you should try the Mahua tree. But my funds don’t come from that or any other trees. This India tour is sponsored by many well-meaning people who have contributed small amounts of money in cash or by directly sending money to my account. A lot of them have also funded it through this crowd-funding page - http://www.wishberry.in/users/wishlistview/14320

ME (to all the readers): Click the link already. The only virus it will spread is green and makes oxygen.

ME: You started in Mumbai and have already travelled a bit. Where all have you sown your seeds?

HARI: No seeds, only saplings...planted in *takes a deep breath* Daman, Silvassa, Baroda, Indore, Jaipur, Delhi, Gurgaon, Amritsar, Jammu, Chandigarh, Manali, Dehradun, Agra, Patna, Gangtok, Guwahati, Shillong, Nagaland and Imphal. Phew!

ME (to myself): Dammit! Sowing seeds joke totally lost on him :(

ME: So, we will find little Haris in those places soon? (I mean, saplings you know) :D

HARI: Of course! You’ll find my baby trees in all of these places already but give them a few years and they’ll be taller than you!

ME: Aye! No short jokes. I am the one interviewing you!

ME: How are you travelling from point to point? And where are you staying?

HARI: Public transport – bus, train, autorickshaws, cycle rickshaws, tumtums (called Vikram in Dehradun) and so on. On the list but yet to be ticked off are trucks, boats and hitchhiking.

In every state, we try and live with a host family to give us free lodging and free food. In most places they have also been kind enough to take us around themselves. This part of the project is very interesting because we reach there as strangers but by the time we have to leave, we’re family.

In some places, we’ve had to live in hotels but even in those places, we now have friends for life!

ME: You mean, people actually let you enter their homes with soil on your shoes? So kind!

HARI: Surprise no? In some places, we get there looking like monsters – hairy, dishevelled and untidy but we make sure we tidy up soon.

ME: Have you encountered any tree people yet? Did anyone mistake you for a vegetable and eat you?

HARI: No tree people but I did spot this guy at a railway station on the way from Indore to Jaipur. I would love to dress colour-coded like an evergreen tree! He looks uncannily like a guy from my office! Here is a picture -

ME: Are you going to dance around trees? Is there going to be a video? Can people who contribute get exclusive access to it?

HARI: I am developing a pole-dance version of the Chipko movement where you hug a tree and dance around it to the tune of Gangnam Style. But for that we’ll have to wait till the saplings I’ve planted have grown. You okay with that? Access kya, people who contribute can dance with me. Chipko is a group activity anyway.

ME (to readers): Interested dancers may apply

ME: Your moustache seems to grow with every city. Are you hiding the saplings in there?

HARI: Haha, how did you notice that? My handlebar looks awesome now. I haven’t touched them since I left. I’ve however been trimming my muttonchops beard only because I don’t want school students to be scared of me.

(I run out scared and screaming)

ME: You are just doing this so that you can have a tree-house in every state no? Sach sach bolo!

HARI: You caught me there! With real estate prices going the way they are, it’ll help no? Plus, imagine having a toilet in every state in India!

ME: After swinging all ways (I mean, literally) when are you going to be back to the city?

HARI: *Narrows eyes and stares* We should be back in Mumbai in the third week of January that’ll give us one week to chill before we start our normal work days. I’ve been craving for some vada pao but!

ME: Vada pao on me when you return!
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I ALSO made a poster (pardon my art skills).
(P.S.: A shout out to those with good art skills - if you can and wish to make a better poster, you shall be rewarded with pappis from our very own Hari Chakyar)

Disclaimer: Creative representation of Project '35 trees'. Hari interjects passionately pointing out that they are not planting 'only 35' trees. On last count, they were close to 100 in 19 states, and they still have a long way to go.

Jhaank kar dekho...

An extension of what I had written on twitter, in a lovely poetic conversation with @urm1 and @talli_redux. (Go follow them! And I'm @haemlet if you guys didn't know).

................

Jhaank kar dekho zara,

Surkhiyon mein jo baithi hai kahin,
Mitti si hai khurduri,
Sardi ki dhup si makhmali,
Karkaraati hui,
Khankhanaati hui,
Satrangi pagchinh chode,
Mann mein mandraye chankaati hui.
Dhuein si faile,
Palkon par pighle,
kabhi roshni si aa jaaye chupke se,
Kabhi shararati bachche sa dhindhora peete.
Jhaank kar dekho zara,
Surkhiyon mein jo baithi hai kahin,
Sab jaane, tumhari rooh ko basera maane,
Shayad woh mohabbat ki hi surat toh nahin?

- © Haem Roy

29 Nov, 2012.

WITHIN YOU...

Inspired by someone I know, this one is about taking chances. About believing in the golden road ahead, and following it, just for the journey, without fear of the destination.

Within you lies what could set you free,
The will to calm the demons,
The dreams of what freedom could be.

Trapped by the chains of history,
Bound by the ties of the past,
Blind to your powers that could melt the mountains,
Unwilling to be free, to break the fragile cast.

Within you lies what you may need,
To start believing in magic,
To find the elusive golden steed.

You could charm the beasts,
And the fairies too you could lure,
If only you heard the voices that beckon,
You could open the doors to fairyland for sure.

Within you lies what you most fear,
The whispers of desire,
The longing that hums right by your ear.

You try to hide the fire,
You try to drown the sounds,
They may not be the screams you imagine,
Because under your fears, music may just be found.

- © HAEM ROY
30th Oct, 2012.

...

Hawa ne achanak hi mod diya rukh,
Baantkar sapne, neend hi le gayi apne saath,
Jhul rahe the hum uske aanchal mein,
Ke zameen se na jaane kab mil gaye haath.

Sarakte Pal

Sarakte pal nishaan chhod gaye,
Mitti mein lakeerein,
Hawa mein paigaam chhod gaye.
In palon ki kahaani bhi kya bataaun tumhe,
Mutthi mein band saara jahaan chhod gaye.

Simatkar baithi hain woh ankahi baatein,
Cheekhe kaise dekho yeh chugalkhor saansein,
Dabe paon andar aaye,
Phir bhi saari khamoshi tod gaye.

Sarakte pal nishaan chhod gaye,
Mitti mein lakeerein,
Hawa mein paigaam chhod gaye.

Baatuni palkein chup rehna na jaane,
Machalti rahein badal ke sirhaane,
Hansi ki chitthiyan laaye,
Pannon se shabd hi saare daud gaye.

Sarakte pal nishaan chhod gaye,
Mitti mein lakeerein,
Hawa mein paigaam chhod gaye.

- © Haem Roy

Tumhare khayaal

Sehmi sehmi saansein,
pallu se bandhi tanhaayi,
sannate ki muslaadhar baarish,
aur tumhaare khayaalon ki razai.

Maayusi ki oas boondein,
badan par geeli sari,
darr se thithurta man,
aur tumhari chaahat ki dhoop.

Aahein bhare ye mann,
siskiyon se bayaan kare apna haal,
bhatakti raah mein gumraah hum,
aur tumhaari aawaz ki mashaal.

- © Haem Roy

Walking in the rain

I like walking in the rain because it hides my tears.
I like walking in the rain because it soaks my fears.

The rain drowns my doubts,
The rain washes my worries,
It keeps me in the moment,
The past, the future, packed away and sent.

I like walking in the rain because it makes me forget.
I like walking in the rain because it tunes my mind to reset.

The rain brings me romance,
The rain makes me dream,
I build my world within those droplets,
I imagine conversations, moments and the life I expect.

I like walking in the rain because it makes me smile,
Let me walk in the rain for another mile.

- © Haem Roy

Kya maanga?

Titli ke rang nahin maange,
Na chand, na taare, na aasmaa,
Bas itna hi toh maanga tumse humne,
Jatao zara apni chaahat ka nazraana.

Phoolon ke baag nahin maange,
Na moti, na heere, na jevraat,
Kuch bada nahin maange tumse,
Kyun mann tumhara phir hichkicha raha?

Satrangi indradhanush na maanga,
Na zid ki, ke kadmon tale ho jahaa,
Duniya bhulaane nahin kahaa tumse,
Lekin tumne meri guzaarish ko bhula diya.

Sang e marmar ka mahal na maanga,
Na sone ki chaadar, na chaandi ka bistra,
Na lutne na lootaane ki baatein hui tumse,
Aakhir kiss baat ne tumhe itna darra diya?

Pyaar ka vaada kataihi nahin maanga,
Na koi kasam, na saath janmon ka,
Abhi toh shuruvaat hai, kya hoga inse?
Bas thoda apnapan jataane ko kahaa.

Na hum tum jaane, na jaane yeh jaahaan,
Jo kal hoga woh kal dekha jaayega,
Aaj itna hi toh maanga tumse humne,
Jatao zara apni chaahat ka nazraana.

- © Haem Roy

Wedding blurs

UPDATE: This post was picked as a weekend must read by blogadda. Thank you for the support guys - http://blog.blogadda.com/2012/06/30/indian-bloggers-queries-conversations-best-blog-posts

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The drone of the shehnai music was filling the background.

I could see him standing right before me. The tall, lean physique. Smiling as he always did. With a glint of mischief in his eyes, the sparkle visible even from a distance. My tears instantly dried up at his sight. His smile had always had that effect on me. I had started believing that crying around him was impossible.

My mother pulled me away and I lost sight of him among the throngs of women. They were applying make up on my face and draping my sari. It was all a blur really. I just followed all instructions like a puppet, always keeping a lookout for him. Where did he disappear?

He would always do that. Disappear without notice. Back in college, we had just become friends. His sister was my classmate, and that's how we met. We'd hang out in the canteen, and his resounding laughter would just draw everyone in. He left every girl giggling. The way he imitated the teachers, but never disrespected them. The way he would immediately pull a chair for me when I arrived, as if it was a reflex. I was the quiet one, but he never let me get lost in the crowd. He would pull me into the conversation with a question directed at me. And all so nonchalantly. So effortlessly.

They were pulling at my hair now. Ouch! It hurt. Some pins and flowers being poked in, and the fake bun was too heavy. But I didn't really care much to object. The parlour lady asked me if I wanted something specific, and I just pointed to my mum, who was much to eager to provide inputs. Then all I had to do was sit and let them fiddle with me.

Now that I think about it, I always tried to escape making a decision, or forming an opinion. Only he could catch me. He sensed it early on, and never let my sly attempts succeed. He would ask me, "Where do you want to go for dinner tonight?" And my response would always be, "Anywhere is good." But he was relentless, and would bombard me with questions, till he understood what my mood was. "You feel like having Chinese? How about some Bamboo rice? Or you want some parathas? Pasta?" He knew every expression. He was quite different from most guys that way. All my girlfriends would complain how their boyfriends never paid enough attention to the little things, or how they never caught the moods and gestures. With him, he never missed a thing! Maybe it was because he was the only man in the house, with three women.

The women around me were getting noisier. They wanted to sing. I hated all this drama, and singing and dancing.

He loved it. He'd sing to me, and never paid heed to my objections.

Someone knocked on the door to beckon the 'bride'. They ushered me out and towards the mandap. My eyes wandered, and found him. Locked on him. I could sense a smile on my face. How could anyone be so charming?

The pandit began to chant mantras. The fire was too hot. I could feel the burning on my face. I just turned it away and faced him. Nothing mattered when I could see him, and that smile of his.

The way his thick lips gave way to reveal those slightly crooked teeth. The way his eyes turned really small, and his left cheek caved in to form a dimple. When we had first kissed, his thick lips were such a surprise for me. He was a good kisser yes. A really good one. And those hands. It's like they had a mind of his own. Playing with my hair, a finger down my cheeks, fondling my neck, tightly holding my back - so caring and yet so strong. Gentle, yet never clumsy.

My hand was now above the fire. Rice being thrown, and so much of commotion. They asked me to get up for the pheras. I was getting dizzy.

I had never wanted a big wedding. I always told him that I would prefer a court marriage any day. But he would argue, that our parents would be unhappy if we didn't marry according to customs. "A wedding is more for the parents sometimes, than the bride and groom", he would tell me. And the way he coaxed me, how could I ever disagree?

I sat back down. Sindoor was being applied to my forehead. I closed my eyes to avoid getting it in my eyes.
You know, if something ever got into my eye, he'd come real close and softly blow into the eye. Whether the dust particle left the eye or not I don't know, but his hot breath on my face always sent shivers down my spine. He always made me feel like a teenager with a crush. I'd go weak kneed when he'd whisper in my ears. I'd almost let out a giggle when he held my hand on the road. Not that he didn't notice. He knew the effect he had on me very well. And he was pretty happy with himself for that! And just to make me feel better, he'd tell me how much he adored me. I loved his stories of "When I saw you the first time..." and "You look so beautiful when...". He indulged me.

The magalsutra was in my neck now. I was married. And there he was, grinning from ear to ear. I touched the mangalsutra, looked at him, and his smile made me smile too.

They made me get up and sit on a chair. I looked around. I was surrounded by relatives. As I turned back in his direction, he was gone! I looked about frantically, but he was nowhere to be seen. That is when the blood rushed back to my head. He couldn't have been here. It was impossible. It was an illusion. That is when one tear finally escaped my eye and rolled down my cheek.

I remembered. He was gone. And, here I was, married to someone else. But I didn't care. I could live all my life with just a memory of those two beautiful years. Live with the pain of the fact that I had lost him. On that fateful day. That he was gone. 

Forever. 

Flailing arms, quiet surrender

Her game was finally over.
She was not the kind of person who'd let people in. She'd pretend, she'd smile and she'd put on a show of strength to hide every emotion. But for the first time, she had opened up her heart - to him. For the first time she had let someone into her mind.
Around him, all her facade was futile. He saw right through her smile, and caught her moist eyes. He never said a word, he never offered help, but he always stood by, playing along as she tried hard to hide. almost like an adult indulging a child with a game of peek a boo.
I can manage on my own, she'd say. Of course you can, he'd answer. But I'm here just in case. And that made her heart rise. That made her trust him. Trust him enough to even show her tears.
It just flowed. Her past. Her struggles. how she had made it through and how she had withstood those who tried taking advantage of her. She was a strong woman, this one.
But he was no fool.
He knew that the world had made her lock up her gentleness. There was a soft spoken maiden under those determined eyes. And he resolved to set her free.
He heard her stories of betrayal. Her stories of abuse. No wonder she had lost trust.
And all through, he just held her. No words were needed. Words would only make it frivolous. Words would only bring sympathy. She didn't need sympathy. She deserved care. Trust. Love.
And he'd give her that. Even if she fought him off. Even if she pushed him away. Because those were just her reflexes. Her battle scars.
He was determined to heal them. And his determination was what she needed more than anything. Ever.

Stupid, silly me

I met him at a party,
We got along like wild fire,
Spoke for hours and laughed for hours,
With a promise to meet the next day
We said goodbye under the stars.
And promptly he called,
There was a smile in his voice
Asking to meet, rather dying to meet,
He said to me he could hardly wait,
His enthusiasm nothing could beat.

How could I not see?
That he had a thing for me
Oh stupid silly me.

He'd bring me flowers,
He pampered me like crazy,
Took me to the best places in the city,
I was the queen for him
And he was smitten completely.

How could I not see?
That he was in love with me
Oh stupid silly me.

But then came the time,
When the fights slowly began,
He called me names and locked me up,
my every word annoyed him
And I just seemed to mess up.

How could I not see?
This wasn't supposed to be
Oh stupid silly me.

He'd return home late,
He would not even kiss me,
I wondered why he never spoke to me,
Till I found a picture hidden,
and it wasn't a picture of me.

How could I not see?
That he was betraying me
How could I not see?
That we were no longer 'we'
Oh stupid silly me.

- © Haem Roy

My music and nature soaked weekend

I had heard about it through a friend, but I wasn't really sure what The Great Gig in the Sky really was. I read up the page, I asked around, I tried to figure it out, but in my head, there were still a load of doubts. I can get pretty introverted in social situations, and I wondered, would I feel lost here. Add the fact that my musical inclination is sporadic and very mood-induced.

But my love for the outdoors, hikes, treks, open air and more got me going for it. And let me begin with - I am glad I did.

To introduce the concept, The Great Gig in the Sky is something started by a group called Jumpstart India. They travel with a band / singer-songwriter to a location that is nestled amidst nature, and that is where the gig is. No frills, no equipment, no fancy lights or speakers, no set-up or stage. Just a small selected audience, and the performer. This is usually an overnight camping trip, and the best part is that you get to travel, interact and get to know the musicians you are listening to. Music is better appreciated when you appreciate the people creating it. Isn't it?

Now that I have explained it, about the one I went for.

We travelled with a band called Dischordian. Here emerged my second hesitation. I had never heard the. Or heard of them either. They describe their music in these words: Spanning multiple genres, but primarily grounded in folk, punk, and blues, Dischordian’s sound is difficult to categorise or describe. 


But would I like it? Would they be a bunch of snooty band members who just stomped around?

Fast forward to the bus ride. Hot as hell, and sweaty, it was where we awkwardly smiled at each other. A courteous hi, and a basic ice breaker round of introductions. We arrived at Kondivane, gasping for something cool, a breeze, a gush of air, something. Heading for a local hut, the fan turned into the second ice breaker, as everyone plopped under it.

Lunch and lazy bonding, some talk and getting to know each other was followed by impromptu jamming as a Ukulele was discovered. Cut to looking for a decent spot to swim, in the parched stream. As one of the band members put it, Dhiren from Jumpstart tricked us into a mini hike by guiding us to a spot a little further ahead, before we decided it wasn't large enough and walked back to the main stream. Loads of fun followed, splashing about, and even recreating 'We will rock you' with water splashes (yes, I am not kidding!) To my utter delight, the band members turned out to be total fun, with no airs, and a great sense of humour.

We learnt how to pitch tents and pitched our own tents in an open field. The band was working with us, clearing ground, pitching tents, moving stones and more. Then we headed to a 'chowk' sort of area, under a tree, for the main event of the trip - the gig. There were just a few of us on this trip, and that transformed into a more intimate setting and performance. The band played some really nice songs from their latest album, and I discovered a new sound. I was also fascinated by the number of different instruments they could play and used for their music. They had us jamming along, as everyone drowned in the general mood of the night. And it was even better, when all the lights were turned completely off.

We were told that this gig that lasted over two hours was one of the longest Great Gigs. Did not feel that long if you asked the audience. Tired and sleepy, everyone headed back to the freshly pitched tents, and decided to sleep under the stars! I was still hungover on music, so it was my headphones, my phone playlist and me gazing up making shapes out of the stars for a long time. I even got to use my brand new sleeping bag, but that is just a personal landmark! :)



The next day was pretty hot (still!) and lazy. Some decided to go back for a swim, while the rest just lazed around chatting, sketching, writing (only I did that!) and generally vegging out. More random jamming ensued.

If I had to, I could point out things to dislike. But the best part about this little trip was that it made me not want to point those out. Except the heat of course. You cannot ignore that. Nor can you do something about it. I dived in expecting no luxury, nothing big, and returned with some good friends and fond memories. A cooler time of the year would have helped a lot, but that did not stop us from having fun.

Jumpstart is a company that is new, young and has just kickstarted. They have a brilliant concept in this, and over time, they shall probably make it more professional. But I do hope that does not happen. Because, for me, the charm was in doing things together, in figuring out solutions to a glitch together, in a joint recce to decide on the location of the performance, and in the exchange of ideas that actually brings a group together.  I would definitely recommend something like this, but I will also throw in a warning. Do not sign up if you are used to luxuries everywhere you go, if you expect a prim and proper world around you and if you cannot bear the thought of roughing it out. That is not the purpose of these gigs. Sign up with an open mind, no huge expectations and a drive to have fun no matter what, and you shall have an experience you will be proud of.

Also, if you are travelling in the summer, carry shorts!
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You can find Dischordian on Facebook here or check out their website.

Check out what Jumpstart is and does here.

Photos Clicked by Manish Usapkar and Vilas Chavan. All copyrights with Jumpstart India.

Drunk on Music

So, I spent the weekend on a musical-nature trip with a band (more on this in another post). Nature has always inspired me to write. Words flow in like the rain, and peace just drowns me. I can sit quietly and watch the sky full of stars for hours. And this time, we had music to lift the mood a notch higher. Obviously then, my pen could not be left alone. I scribbled some things and here is one of them:

DRUNK ON MUSIC

Rhythms that fill, the streams and the hills,
The strings hum tunes, singing with the wind,
The stars blink, drunk on the music,
Nature moves, rejoicing in sync.

We've carried backpacks of joy,
We've brought along smiles,
All we need is our music,
And we can carry on for miles.

Miles turn to minutes, and minutes just dash by,
When you're drunk on music, the world all passes by.
Let the birds chirp with you, for they too want in,
No one's left out, even the trees are jamming.

- © Haem Roy
29th April, 2012.


I also wrote another one in Hindi. But I don't have a title for it yet. Here it is. If you have any suggestions, let me know:


Chuppi si chaayi hai, aankhon mein dhundhlaahat,

Saans dheemi dheemi, bas dhunon ki aahat.

Yaadon ke palchinnhon ko hum sang liye,

Jholi mein lamhon ko sanjooye,

Apni dhunki mein sabko sang liye,

Sab sunn liya hamne kuch na kehte hue.

Chuppi si chaayi hai, aankhon mein dhundhlaahat,

Saans dheemi dheemi, bas dhunon ki aahat.

Palkon ke neeche chipe manmauji khayaal,

Chaahein woh fal latke jo taaron ki daal,

Jhoomte gaate hue khushi se behaal,

Phool bhi chale dekho tumhari hi chaal.

Chuppi si chaayi hai, aankhon mein dhundhlaahat,

Saans dheemi dheemi, bas dhunon ki aahat.

- © Haem Roy
29th April, 2012.

The butterflies

All is calm as you walk ahead,
On the road your gaze is set,
Bam! Wham! You spot him then
Forget the who, what, where, when.

Within you they start to rise…
Don't you love the butterflies?
I do. I do.
Don't you love the butterflies?
Don't you?

You look at him, he smiles back
Sparkly eyes and you lose your track
Clouds of a dream floating in
On your face a nervous silly grin.

They follow his little bright eyes....
Don't you love the butterflies?
I do. I do.
Don't you love the butterflies?
Don't you?

Your oyster is the world
Headlong you are hurled
Dizzy at the ride yet wanting more
You love the rush. encore! Encore!

They discovered where happiness lies...
Don't you love the butterflies?
I do. I do.
Don't you love the butterflies?
Don't you?

You think of him, the voice, the hair,
You love yourself, sniff the air,
The tingles, excitement, sober highs,
Leaving you with a bundle of sighs.

You just can't control the smiles...
Don't you love the butterflies?
I do. I do.
Don't you love the butterflies?
Don't you?

- © Haem Roy
19th April, 2012.

The story of my dreams

Just a blink and it's gone
It didn't wait too long
And now I try to remember, the dream that's left in embers.

It started black and white
A glimmer, some shapes, a little light,
People I know, people I don't,
The star cast sometimes totally unknown.
Thats my voice I hear
And me I follow
I see love and romance
Smiles, laughter and all that hey-ho!

But just a blink and it's gone
It didn't wait too long
And now I try to remember, the dream that's left in embers.

Colours are filling in,
A movie in my head.
If I was on a seat I'd grab it
In anticipation of what's ahead.
Suspense and thrills, chase sequences,
Location switch, even surreal experiences.
Some people lost but I cling on
The heart racing like a marathon.

But just a blink and it's gone
It didn't wait too long
And now I try to remember, the dream that's left in embers.

I jump off cliffs, escape into tunnels,
A spy, crook, lover, so many role reversals.
I try to keep up with my REM cycle,
The deeper I sleep, the more my dream tangles.
Carried away into a strange world every night,
I wake with a start, a smile or a fright.
Without a goodbye, I forget and we part,
Good morning to a world I know by heart.

Just a blink and it's gone
It didn't wait too long
And now I try to remember, the dream that's left in embers.

- © Haem Roy
11th April, 2012.

Circles

A little road goes winding down,
A little turn, comes all the way around,
Before you know it, you are back,
Among those same familiar sounds.
Square one they call it, the rigmarole,
The trapdoor, the hidden hole.
No matter what journey you make,
You come back and land at the same place?
It's no coincidence, it can't be fate!
It's just that your eyes can't see a new way.

May be you need to look under the bushes,
Over the trees? A little nudge to the left, or blindly follow the breeze.
Stumble and fall, and lose your way, no breadcrumbs, no milestones,
No guide to find your way back.
Then you may be on the right track,
Never look back at old horizons,
Then you may break the circles.

- © Haem Roy
3rd April, 2012.

Why the seasons change?

A few people have that effect on you, where even the hottest day will seem breezy, or you will feel the joy of a rainy day in the dead of winter...

Smiles start pouring as you walk in,
Like rainy droplets,
Like leaves in autumn,
Like colours at sunset,
Like the summer sun.

The world starts shining with your eyes,
Like the sparkling dew drops,
Like the little snow flakes,
Like the colour on flowers,
Like the shimmering lakes.

Music is in the air that breathes your scent,
Like the morning chirps,
Like the first thunders,
Like the pitter patter on tin roofs,
Like wind whistling in the ear.

You bring warmth in winter,
With you comes the the rain,
The summer breeze follows you,
You, my love, make the seasons change.

- © Haem Roy
1st April, 2012.

Ek taar

Ever think of how, when you strum a guitar, the tune doesn't leave the string for some time. It clings on, it fills the air, and it lingers around for a while.That's where this verse started for me...

Ek taar pe dhun jo chid jaaye,
Itni jaldi chhod ke na jaa paaye,
Dhun koi mann ko bhaaye,
Toh mann mein basera kar jaaye.

Hawa mein mehek jab saje,
ghanton woh leher bhatakti rahe,
Khushboo se koi kheencha chala aaye,
Duur jaakar bhi woh bichad na paaye.

Saaya toh kuch hi pal rehta,
Par pair mitti mein ishaare rakh jaaye.

Khayaalon mein chori se koi aa toh hai gaya,
Mushkil yeh hai ki kahin woh kaid hi na reh jaye.

- © Haem Roy
1st April, 2012.

Review: The Chocolate Room

Name: THE CHOCOLATE ROOM
Location: Panchsheel Heights, Mahavir Nagar, Kandivli West.

What I thought:

A little chocolate cafe tucked away in the Northern suburbs of Mumbai, one would not have imagined something in such an area in the first place. But there it was, right opposite where I live, and as I watched it spring up, the name caught my interest.

I must mention here, that I do not have a sweet tooth, and am not particularly fond of chocolate. But I had to try this place. So, when I managed to get a few other people excited about it (I would never be able to eat more than a bite of any chocolate dish, let alone finish it), we walked in.

Simple chairs, a couple of tables, not much space, no eye-catching decor to talk about. What does grab some attention though, is a display shelf, that is called the Chocolate Shop. Stacked there are chocolate gift boxes, and what looks like a wine bottle made of chocolate. It was exactly what it looked like! On asking, we found out that the bottle did not come filled (sad!), but was hollow and could be filled with any beverage of one's choice (yay!) and re-sealed.

The counter display had some chocolate figurines, a Taj Mahal in both white and dark chocolate and some pastries.

Moving on to the edible stuff on the menu.

The menu was short and sweet (no pun intended), yet covered everything from choco shakes and coffees, to some munchies, mocktails, and even a chocolate pizza. A chocolate pizza you say? That sounds interesting. Let us try it.

We tried the Rocky Road Pizza, and some cold Irish Coffee. The coffee was pretty regular. It was the pizza that surprised us. We did not know what to expect and were told that the pizza would take about 15-20 minutes.

What arrived, was a brown pizza base, with a load of chocolate toppings, something sprinkled, something splashed and something pink on it. Initially I thought the base itself was made of chocolate, and that put me off. But it was a pleasant surprise to find out that it was chocolate flavoured bread - not too sweet and just right. The toppings on the Rocky Road had some nuts, melted marshmallows and loads of chocolate of course. It was quite heavy, and for the price we paid, definitely worth the value. We were speculating the Chilli hot chocolate pizza (yes, you read right!) for the next time.

Service:
The service was smooth. Since the outlet has just opened, the management was sweet and gave personal attention to customers. They came and asked for feedback in person, after we finished eating. We spotted a bunch of kids on a sugar high inside, licking off a bowl of something chocolatey, and it definitely is a place the kids would love!

Moral of the story:
All in all, a decent place, some good innovative things on the menu, worth one try, especially for chocoholics. So all ye with the sweet tooth, head to Kandivali!

Sometimes...

I had the chorus of 'sometimes...its just a matter of time' playing in my head for a long time. Finally got down to penning a version.

Sometimes...it's just a matter of time


I walk along and stumble on
trying for a lift, path forlorn
I wave, I call, beckon and shout,
No one halts, they just carry on.


they may not see me today,
They may not care for who I am
but someday, they will look back on this day,
Someday they will regret what they say.
Today, they may have their way.


But tomorrow shall be mine
Cos sometimes...it's just a matter of time.


I tell them my dreams they laugh,
They try and cut my hopes into half,
They cannot see beyond a mile,
But the future has been in my eyes for a while.
Today, they may tell me I can't.


But tomorrow my dreams shall be mine,
Cos sometimes...its just a matter of time.


I don't need you to halt you see,
I for walk not alone but with my castles of sand,
And as you drive on you'll know eventually,
someday these very roads will all lead to me.


Tomorrow will be mine,
Cos sometimes...its just a matter of time.


- Haem Roy
Feb 24, 2012.

My Vagabond Wishlist

I am finally getting a holiday, after ages.

2 friends, and a trip to Rajasthan. The golden sand, the majestic forts, the royal glow reflecting from the chandeliers, the mirage of colours around us, jingling of bells on cows, steaming chai in kulhads, cool winds and a small fire to warm us - there is so much we are looking forward to.

I want to meet new people, locals and tourists, see the cities from both their eyes. I want to dance with the folk dancers, and I want to walk the streets just observing and not saying a word.

However small the trip, the idea of going to a new place just gets the blood pumping in our systems. What will we discover there? What new experiences will we gain? Will we return wiser... or sillier?

As I tick off one from the bucketload in my Travel Wishlist, here is to hoping this year brings some more ticks and trips.

But I still seek my mountain peak

Momentary posts may refuel me

But my eyes are set on a destination I cant yet see

Till then I try to be happy with breeze that whistles by.

WOH DIN

Halak mein atke hain kuch beete hue pal,

Saans le chale phir ussi kal.

Jahaan sardi ki dhoop si thi khushiyon ki garmaahat,

Jahaan koi na ho, phir bhi hamesha thi aahat.

Bas baithe baithe khud par hans lete zara,

Chaahe aasman gir jaaye, kisse thi parvaah?

Par phir aaya ek din, jab aahat na koi,

Neend mein achaanak uth padoon,

Koi hai? Lagta hai koi aawaz suni!

Har taraf dhoondha, kahin yeh meri kalpana toh nahi?

Sapnon ko pukaarte,

Khudko dhakela neend ki galli.

Subah hui aur aankhein dhoondein wohi dhoop,

Par thand ne thithur di meri rooh.

Mann se ki dua ki yeh sirf ho ek maaya,

Palak jhukaayi aur kuch mehsoos hua.

Lagta hai sirhaane aakhir koi aaya?

Kaun aaya? Kaun aaya?

Bas Khaalipan ka saaya.

- © HAEM ROY

6 Jan 2011.

ON STAGE - 'WORLD WITHOUT WOMEN'

So, I am a small part of a play called WWW- World Without Women, by Loudmouth Productions. The play is about female infanticide and foeticide, and takes different looks at what would become of this world if this practice continues.

It is a short play, and we had performed for the first time as part of the Be Artsy street theatre festival at NCPA. As the creators of the play describe it and I quote:
"The play staged in a street play form, explores the possibility of a day not far in the future of a world without women. Through the metaphor of a womb, the issue of the death of a girl child is explored.
A woman-less world enfolds where abuses have died away, songs lose meaning, iconic movie scenes lose their sting, men who remember women are never the same again, while sonography operators lose their jobs. The endangered women become mere objects of curiosity, 'protected' in zoos before their eventual extinction. In the end, the womb metaphor recurs, to give the message of hope, if the world wakes up today."

After NCPA, the play became a part of one of the most prestigious youth theatre festivals in the country - Thespo, as we performed at the curtain raiser at Crossword Bookstore, Kemps Corner. And the rush was unbelievable.

Let me begin by saying this - I am someone who loves the spotlight, the stage and the limelight. I love an audience. And performing at the bookstore gave us all such an amazing high. The reactions were perfect and we were glad that the play was liked and understood.

Here are some pics: WWW at Thespo 13 curtain raiser

After that was THE performance, at Thespo 13, Prithvi Theatre. On the 14th of December, ours was a platform performance.

As we reached the venue, we saw sitting right there, in the front row - Shashi Kapoor with Dolly Thakore. The surprising part wasn't finding him there, but the coincidence. You see, we had the 'Mere paas gaadi hai...' dialogue from Deewar in the play (watch the video below to know more). If Crossword was a high, this was cloud 9 altogether. We felt so elated after the performance, and it reached new heights when the play was commended and liked by Dolly Thakore.
Watch some part of the performance: THE PLAY VIDEO

As we headed to Juhu beach to celebrate with some street food, we realised this cast may not perform together again. But we were glad that we did this, that we removed time from this from work/college/etc, that we took a social cause, and that we made new friends.

Here is hoping that many more such things happen as the next year arrives!

And for those who liked the play, you can join the group on Facebook - Loudmouth Productions 

The adrenaline of travelling

Travel... sigh!

Travel is a dream that one in two people have, at the least. Everyone wants to travel, see the world, in their own way. Some prefer a backpack, whilst some prefer the luxury of a cruise. Me, I just love the thrill of a new place, new people, new culture, and something different.

Recently for Diwali, I went to Pune - just for a day. I haven't visited that city in years, and so for me, it was a new experience all over again. In the evening, I would just take a walk by myself, roam the pretty streets of Koregaon Park, look around, talk to a few people, and it would be an adrenaline rush. I loved the thrill of being somewhere new, of discovering something.

I was pressed for time. But had I had the time, the one thing I wanted to do was just walk around, and ask the people to suggest the next place in Pune I should go to, get there and then figure out where to go next. Basically, build a day of travelling through a chain of suggestions from people there. Not just see the place, but feel it.

I want to travel the world, I want to talk to people, maybe live with them and see how their life is. How similar, how different. I want to step into a different country, and feel the land, the place, the vibes. Dress like them, smile at them, talk to them, maybe act a little like a tourist once a in a while, and maybe couch surf sometimes.

A new place is a new rush. So, anyone taking me somewhere new?

Wajah

Zindagi mein bas saans lene ki wajah dhoondhti rehti hoon main,

Har ghadi bas jeene ki nayi wajah dhoondhti rehti hoon main.

Phoolon ki mehek mujhe agle mod tak le chale,

Hawa ka jhonka mujhe do saans aur de.

Pyaar ka pehla ehsaas mujhe mein ek nayi jaan bhare,

Khumaari si jo aaye, kahe thoda aur jeeya jaaye.

Khojti rahoon har pal kuch naya, kuch alag,

Maksat mile toh kuch pal ki ho raahat,

Warna bechaini sada, jhapke na meri palak,

Bas taak mein rahoon, shaayad mile junoon ki aahat.

Sthir na rahe yeh mann hai ek bhatakta raahi,

Talaash ho har pal ek naye gaanv ki,

Kal ek alag mod se hogi mulaaqat,

Yehi subah uthne ki wajah bann jaati.

Har raat sitaare mujhe banaa de chitrakaar,

Baadal ka peecha kar, sukhe paate si udta rahoon,

Jigyaasa hai amrit, jo mujhe zinda rakhe,

Indradhanush ki khoj mein hi jeevan rangeen banaaun.

  

Zindagi mein bas saans lene ki wajah dhoondhti rehti hoon main,

Har ghadi bas jeene ki nayi wajah dhoondhti rehti hoon main.

- © HAEM ROY

Ojhal Mann

Ek choti si jhapki jab aankhon mein basi,
Mann chala phir khwabon ki oar,
Manzil kahaan kisse hai fikar,
humein toh bas hai safar ka nasha...
dharti se humein baandhe hai bas ek patli si dor.

Door kahin ek chamak si dikhi,
Ban gayi wohi manzil agli.
Aankhen tez, aur lakshya par nazar,
Chal pade hum ban gaya woh ek safar.

Pahunche jab wahaan, toh chamak na thi kahin,
Bas halki si dhoop aur hawa mein nami,
Do pal lekar saans phir mann ne bhari udaan,
Ab kahaan chale, dhoondhe kaunsa dwaar.

Kabhi na bharta, kabhi na khush,
Mann yeh behte paani sa ojhal,
Raah badalta, na aage ka pata,
Bas chalta hai na jaane kiski khoj mein,
Bas behta hai sapnon ko sach samjhe.

- © HAEM ROY

Pierced through and through

A little gory, but again I have been watching crime shows a lot. Here goes:


It starts with a little poke,

A tease, a scratch,

Finding it's way in,

The needle slowly inching in.

A drop of blood, oh, it's just one,

I'll wipe it away.

But one drop gets replaced by two,

and then they turn eight.

The draining starts,

the pouring begins,

it's all on the floor.

The needle is now way in,

pierced through and through.

Can't stop.

Can't dab,

just let it flow,

just let it all go.

It will eventually stop,

it has to,

till then just lie still,

till then just think of sheep and clouds,

Don't look at the needle,

don't look at the pool beneath.

- © HAEM ROY

A goodbye?

I pack up my thoughts,
I pick up my memories,
Without any footwear,
I seem to walk out with apparent ease.

I step out of the threshold,
I pull myself away,
I swear not to look back,
It's time to go away.

"I shall visit soon",
"I'll drop in for tea",
Or so we say,
Before we go our way.

Why so serious they tell me,
But goodbyes are never cheerful,
They bring an impending doom,
They always leave you tearful.

And thus we part,

But it's not forever they say,

Though while I start walking I wonder,

how can a goodbye be half way?

- © HAEM ROY

A small village in a big city - Khotachiwadi

Bombay is a large city. Tourists coming here do explore many famous parts of the city, right from the Gateway to the Elephanta Caves to Esselworld and what not. But those of us who have settled here very rarely visit such touristy places. We also very rarely think that Bombay (yes, I shall call it that, for the nth time), has much to offer in terms of exploring, seeing, or visiting. Yes, you can go to Crawford and buy things. Or you can walk down Colaba. But none of these are something that the ordinary person living here would feel out of place, or different.

This Sunday, amidst the chaos, hustle-bustle and crowd of this ever-growing city, I found an oasis. A little hidden place that threw me off.

My three girlfriends and I visited Khotachiwadi. It is a little area, just off Charni Road, quite close to the station. You turn into a thin lane that is not wide enough for a car, with a conspicuous board at the entry. Walk a few steps, and you will wonder what happened. You are greeted by colourful single story wood houses, with balconies, plants, tiny bylanes interconnecting the houses, a grotto, graffitii painted walls, and more. It is entirely reminiscent of old Goa. And it is in Bombay.

The moment you turn into the Khotachiwadi lane, it is like all outside sound has been shut off. Nothing filters in, and you can actually hear sparrows. In fact, I actually saw a peahen, an arm's distance away, happily sitting on one of the houses.

Khotachiwadi is inhabited by East Indians, Maharashtrians and Goan Catholics. The plot of land was originally owned by Mr. Khot, who allowed migrants to settle and build houses here. The migrants slowly bought their pieces of land from him, turning this place into a small community.

No matter who you talk to, everyone here will tell you that this wadi is like a large family. Most people have migrated abroad, leaving maybe just a few members of the family back here. A lot of times, it is old parents who live here alone. And in times of need, of sickness and of trouble, anytime of the day or night, it is the neighbours who handle everything like family would.

The people come together during Christmas, and here, it FEELS like Christmas. They meet every evening, they pray together, they hold festivals and fun and fairs. And the best part, anyone and everyone is invited. These events are peaceful and quiet, with no blaring music, or alcohol.

The houses here too are Portuguese style. Some over 100 years old. A lot of them have been rebuilt. But they are colourful, open, filled with plants and each one has a character of its own. They are not boxes. They may be small, but they are not suffocating or claustrophobic. They have an old world charm and a new world spirit of liveliness, bundled together.

The place started with around 70 or more houses. But today, only 27 remain. And being located in such prime property area, it is no surprise that builders are doing their best to get the residents to sell their plots and houses. Some have done that, giving way to 18 floor skyscrapers, that look odd and out of place in this quaint neighbourhood, and attracting the wrath of the other residents of the area.

The place was declared a heritage site, but now with laws changing at the drop of a hat, the status is also under doubt. This leaves the area and the residents fighting to keep the place alive, to not let it be swallowed up by the concrete jungle that seems to be spreading like plague. Holding festivals, pot lucks, trying to get publicity and raise awareness, get more people involved in the cause, and just do anything, they are building their own wall to shield their Khotachiwadi.

Will they be successful? I don't know. Should they be successful? I want that yes. Because like Mrs. Bridget Misquita said, "Money is not everything." The joy of discovering that this place exists in a city like Bombay is even greater.

  

The mask with many faces

The mask...
the mask...
it is the cover,
it is my shell,
it is what I use,
to hide my hell.

The mask is green,
The mask is red,
It is pink with joy,
It is always a smile ahead.
The colours are many,
Drawing attention,
They are the illusion,
They are the surface above the reality.

What lies beneath,
what lies within,
Sometimes even I know not,
The mask with many faces,
Hides my true face from me,
The mask with many colours,
Makes me forget the true colour of me.

Keep it fixed, keep it on,
Let the act keep going on.
The moment it comes off,
There you lie,
Stripped of the colours,
Bare and dry.
There you lie with your true emotions,
With nowhere to hide,
The fake colours of joy stripped,
The mask pushed aside.

The mask...
the mask...
it is my protection,
it is my shield,
it saves me from my thoughts,
It keeps them controlled and sealed.

- © HAEM ROY

50 things to do before you die in India

Found this post at this website. Interesting.

50 things to do before you die in India

1. See the Taj Mahal
2. Eat at the highway Punjabi dhaba
3.Watch an Indian movie in the theatre
4.Play cricket on the street
5.Put mehndi aka henna on your palms
6.Take a dip in the Ganges at Varanasi
7. Walk through the bazaar of Chandni Chowk, Old Delhi
8.Go to Pushkar Mela(Fair)
9. Sip tea at a streetside stall
10. Watch the cricket match at Eden Gardens Stadium, Calcutta
11.Visit the city of Palitana, City of Jain temples
12.See the Golden Temple, Amritsar.
13.Spend a week at Osho Ashram, Pune
14.Sunset with the camels on the sand dunes of Rajasthan
15. Visit the mystical ruins of Khajuraho
16.Tiger Safari at one of the many Tiger Reserves
17.Visit the Gir Sanctuary, the last refuge for the endangered Asiatic Lions in the world.
18.Attend the Durga Puja in Calcutta
19.Fly kites at the annual kite flying festival in Ahmedabad
20. Blind yourself dancing in the monsoon rains (my personal favorite)
21. Go the southern tip of India, Kanya Kumari.
22.Get an oil massage in Kerala
23.Ganesh Visarjan, watch the idol of Ganesh the Hindu God being immersed in the sea.
24.Visit the Tirupati Temple, Tirumala.
25.Stay at the Udaipur Lake Palace Hotel, Udaipur.
26.Dine at The Taj Hotel, Bombay
27.Take the Darjeeling Train Journey, Darjeeling.
28.Volunteer at an Orphanage.(believe me it will change your life)
29.Travel in the train (make sure it’s not first class)
30. See the Meenakshi Temple, Madurai
31. Attend the Republic Day Parade, New Delhi.
32.See the world famous Dabbawallahs (lunch delivery specialists, all of them uneducated) in action in Bombay. (given a six sigma rating for organization and zero wrong deliveries)
33.Meet the Real Maharaja staying at one of the heritage hotels.
34.Go to Ladakh the highest plateau in the world
35.Visit the Chapel of St. Francis Xavier in Old Goa.
36.Yak Safari in Sikkim
37.See the Sun Temple in Konark, Orissa.
38.Stay in the Shikara or House boat in Dal Lake, Kashmir.
39.See the Mysore Fort lit up, Mysore.
40.Sun Bathe in Goa.
41.Visit the Gandhi Ashram, Ahmedabad
42.See Jodhpur, the blue city, Rajasthan.
43.See the Red Fort and Qutub Minar, Delhi.
44.Tashi Jong Monastery, a Buddhist Monastery, Himachal Pradesh.
45.Follow the Buddha Trail, Where Budhha found enlightenment.
46.Scuba Diving in Andaman Islands.
47.Visit the Ajmer Dargah, Ajmer.
48. Ride a motorcycle on the street of India.( seems impossible)
49.Do Kushti i.e. Indian form of wrestling.
50.Get a Gold Facial. Yes, 22 carat gold facial.

Restaurant Week: OLIVE BAR AND KITCHEN

Restaurant Week was on, and my friends and I decided that we needed to get together, and treat ourselves fancily. So we booked ourselves a table at Olive, and loosened our purse strings.

What: Olive Bar and Kitchen


Where: Mahalaxmi Race Course, near Gate No. 7


Cuisine: Continental, plus alcohol


Ambience: 
Elegant, classy, serene. The outdoors is nice, furnished in shades of white and off-white, candles on the table, a fountain and a beachy feel to it. There are two pretty ladies personally coming to your table, playing the guitar and singing, on some days. Everything has this air of quiet elegance and soft glamour, not a hoity toity five star and not even a random fine dining place.


Food:
I went through Restaurant Week and hence, the menu was a fixed three-course meal. We did not order anything a la carte, except a bottle of wine. There were three of us, so we could order three different things in every course.

The food is decent. It is tasty, and the salads are something to talk about. Even if it is just 'leaves', as my friends put it, they are still delicious, with the dressings. The Restaurant Week menu was not something grand or great - just a usual fare of an assortment of some continental dishes.

For the first course, we had a Caesar Salad, Wild Mushroom Borek and the Olive Oil poached Duck Breast Salad.

The Mushroom Borek was a crunchy puff pastry filled with mushroom and herbs. There was a green chutney dip with it which together tasted quite nice. The textures complimented each other well, and there was a depth of flavour too. Bit the crunch, to find a soft and creamy mushroom filling.

The Caesar salad we ordered was vegetarian and had a nice dressing to compliment it. The veggies were very very fresh, and that made it a pleasure to eat. Even though it was not much in terms of preparation, the fresh ingredients made up for it. The lettuce had just the right amount of crunch, and dressing, with nothing overpowering, and finding little salted capers amidst that jungle was an absolute delight.

The Olive Oil Poached Duck Breast Salad arrived, and the meat was camouflaged under the leafy green lettuce. The presentation left a lot to be desired, as it almost felt like the duck breast was attempting to engage us in a game of hide and seek, among the leaves. But once the salad touched the taste buds, it was an explosion of flavour. Dominated by the lemon vinaigrette, the leaves were crisp, and the orange and arugula added an interesting contrast to the flavours, with tangy, bitter and saccharine playing subtle games with the taste buds.

The best thing was the portions. They were really good for one person, and would fill someone with a good appetite. At the end of the course, we were already feeling a bit full.

Next came a watermelon sorbet as a palate cleanser. And it did the job quietly. The flavour was just about right, without dominating, or leaving a strong aftertaste in the mouth.


The main course followed. We first opted for the Seared Tenderloin Medallions, the Seared Basa Fillets and the Vegetable Pot pie, but we were then informed that the medallions were not available. So we substituted the Medallions for the Crumbled Sausage Green Peas and Cauliflower Risotto. and we chose a Vegetable Pot Pie, the Seared Basa Fillets, and the Risotto. The Pot Pie was honestly, quite ordinary, and not something I would come to a restaurant to eat. I expected more out of the vegetarian menu and was quite disappointed with the main course offerings. My thought was that if I am coming to a nice place, I'd like to try something new too, and not the usual Arrabiata or pot pie. The pie was creamy with diced vegetables and a crunchy pastry on the top. It was rich and hence, very filling. Yet there was something missing.


The Basa Fillet was delightful. The fish meat was succulent and tender, and did a good job of retaining the flavour of the marinade. The meat, though tender, was not quite melt-in-the-mouth quality. The glaze that the brown butter provided glinted in the candlelight, providing a bit of visual appeal, and also added a richer quality to the flavour. The seasonal vegetables that accompanied the fish added a contrasting crunch to the smooth texture of the fish. All in all, the dish was good, but not what one would call memorable.

We ordered all three desserts. I absolutely loved the cheesecake. The Affogato was nice too, and chocolate fans would quite like the pate. For me though, it got a bit overwhelming after a couple of bites and I could have no more. To be fair, it was nice and gooey in the centre, as it should be, and had the right texture.
We ordered a Sula Chenin Blanc, which was not too sweet, not too dry, and went well with the food.


Negatives:
The menu felt very limited for a vegetarian, and if the purpose of Restaurant week is to have people try out new places, then they should have at least attempted to have something new in their menus too. I am not talking about extravagant and expensive dishes, but I am talking about something a little more than just vegetables put together. The non-vegetarian section seemed sufficient on that count, though one item on the main course menu - the medallions, was not available. It was surprising that the management allowed that to happen, especially during restaurant week, as they should have expected a crowd which would probably be trying out Olive for the first time. Instances such as this definitely diminish the chances of a repeat visit.  


The wine list at Olive seemed limited too, as they did not have a dessert wine, when we asked for one. The Chenin Blanc was what was recommended to us, and it was good yes, but we preferred something sweeter.
The servers did have a knowledge of wines and food, that seemed useful for first-timers who do not know what to expect at Olive. Though, they could do with passing on the knowledge in a friendlier manner.


Positives:
The ambiance is quite nice and a good mix of casual and classy, comfy and sophisticated. We liked the outdoors better than the secluded interior space.
We were lucky to have live music on the day, with two young women moving from table to table with a guitar, singing songs on request. We even interacted with the two musicians and it was quite nice.


The outdoor area is really nice, and something rare in Mumbai, without any traffic noise or any other interruptions. It is a great setting for nice conversations.
The portions were very good, and I liked the first course the best. It set the bar high, but unfortunately, nothing else matched up to it.

The service was polite and prompt, and quite smooth too. Wine glasses were refilled quietly and the servers would ask how we liked everything.


In short:
It is a nice place to go once in a while, and spend some quiet, happy time with friends or family or your beloved. Children are not allowed, so it is nice if you want to go for a date too. It's better in the evenings, with the candlelights. Choose your meal well, with some wine, and you will have a good time. But a fair warning, don't go for the food, go for the ambiance and the experience. 


(With inputs by Mariette Valsan, esp for the non-vegetarian section.)