One does not need to see Jerry McGuire to realize that one experiences a defining moment which just changes one’s life; for good or for bad, that’s my topic for another article. Well, to be honest, I have yet to experience this life defining moment, but I have had numerous instances which have had some impact or the other on my conscience and behavior and have resulted in the package that I am today. Most of these moments were experienced while I was up to something, at times with someone-not-so-special and once with someone special. And generally, when I was doing nothing but looking around mindlessly.
But the point I want to make here is that such moments can be experienced at the most unexpected places. For me my balcony is one such place. This is primarily because my balcony opens up right into what you call the heart of SGA. With a perfect view of all the residential blocks, badminton courts, car parks, jhulle wala park and health club, I witness the very spirit of SGA whenever I step into it. Every Sunday, with sarson ka tel all over my body and nimbu ka ras on my hair, I just sit in my balcony and observe life from close quarters (apart from enjoying the smells of parisnde and aloo - bedween from neighboring kitchens), I often wonder if I have learned so much by just sitting here, is it the same with everyone else?
Arguably then, balconies in Shree Ganesh Apartments are the most socially productive piece of land. For house wives, which sums upto30% of SGA’s population, it acts as a modern day equivalent to a chajja from where they can have a keen look at who’s visiting whom, who’s wearing what and who’s going where. And importantly who’s hanging out of this coveted architectural wonder to have a friendly talk with, about the daily chores, which usually consists of how busy they have been and how its time that Tulsi Virani should start believing an eye for an eye policy. This conversation often takes place at decibels which can put the latest innovation in sound technology by Bose to shame. Moreover, balconies assure them a virtual invitation card to every mehendi, shaadi and mundan. Not that I am complaining. Because these Mathur functions are the hunting ground for eligible bachelors. And I am 23 and in a bit of a hurry.
For uncles, both paternal and maternal, the balconies act as the platform which empowers them with freedom of expression which I believe they can’t practice at home because of some very obvious reasons which every married man faces. Thus, the balcony acts as a place from where they can preach everyone and anyone who cares to listen; from newspaper wallah to security guards to car washmen each of them is told how to improve their quality of service along with every possible advice one can give under the sun. The balcony probably makes them feel like the Pope standing majestically over the famous verandah at the Papal Palace, giving his followers an audience. Other than that, uncles are seen in balconies only on diwali, lighting diyas and candles.
And for people like me, who very strongly believe that the world would be at their feet in no time, the balcony acts as the holy spot where they can think of productive strategies, spend some time in solitude and attain nirvana, invisible to the outer world behind dozens of impeccably washed clothes, neatly placed over the twine to be dried. At least the balcony is way better than some sort of sleeping gas induced bedrooms or tear gas induced kitchen or toilets which more often that not are subjected to gases owing to some major gastronomical complexities. With the emergence of cell phones and importantly telephones etiquettes (we got to thank BPOs for that), the number of people paying their balconies a visit have increased phenomenally. The balcony has also undergone a major face lift. It is like being directly proportional to the rise in stock markets. Earlier balconies meant gas cylinders, a couple of money plants and a bulb. But now, balconies are kept as tidy as the living room. Gas cylinders have been replaced by cane chairs, tulips and roses now give company to banyan tree sized money plants and the bulb resides within designer glass. Even the trademark chimtiyan have started vanishing.
But what still remains in almost all balconies is a picture or a wall hanging depicting some deity. One might say it is because of vaastu but I say this the way Mathur balconies are.
February 26, 2006
