The dark side of the moon
The moon is burnt sienna out my window, but it’s far too gelid to stay and watch. My last eclipse, I stood atop a Bombay apartment building in the slumbering hour between midnight and two, threading my way between a cat’s cradle of cables, trying not to wake a worker sleeping on the roof. I was alone and locked in. The watchman locked the gate at midnight, and nothing but an act of God would wake him before daylight, which was quite irritating when the urge for a late-night chai from the bicyclewalla took hold, or the power went out and there was nothing to do. Your sole consolation for your insomnia was whinging to overseas friends by text, lying in the firetrap darkness imagining sleep and looking forward to 7 am when the idli-sambar place down the road fired up the kitchen. Sloppy, hot, burning and delicious.
I took shaky burnt sienna photos that warm March night facing the Arabian Sea while celeb-stuffed parties leaked filmi music across the rooftops. There’s grace in eclipses, like Sikh weddings. Sacred things are best done first thing in the morning.
on Wednesday, February 20th, 2008, 11:10 pm in Bombay, Musings, Photographs › 
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ah… the roomani mind dreams up a scenario when the young (at) heart sneaks past the razzle-dazzle and the flim-flam and the latka-jhatka to enjoy a quiet moment on the rooftop to contemplate a silent moon. He has the secret hope that his little private visitation with the moon will yet see him a suitably proportioned visitor of the female persuasion, who he will proceed to woo. this beauteous visitor who is seeking the same solitude will at first be disappointed at finding her private grotto invaded by an achkan wearing poet, but will be transfixed by the lovely poetry the intruder is reciting to a moon now in a shade of mehndi. She will attempt to keep her presence secret but will be betrayed by the scrape of her payal against the mirrorworked ghaghra. Romance will ensue.
Unfortunately reality will be that it will be too cold, something will fall on the young poet’s head and he will hope it is only the leaking tanki and not bat feces, and the rustle he hears will be an emaciated worker scratching his balls through his lunghi (not quite a mirrorworked ghaghra). the poet will trip over some pipe extending from nowhere into nowhere and his achkan will get soiled and the moleskin will go over the ledge into a garbage heap where it will be consumed by a cow with an inflamed anus. the poet’s romantic thoughts will remain unvoiced, and will be replaced with choice hindi oaths. thus will end the lunar eclipse.
Oh Veezh! What shall become of ye?
khoof, that was beyond hilarious!
Vij-Uncle, that was so romantic.
But by Bombay do you mean Bandra?
Sorry, sorry.
I watched this one from a Brooklyn rooftop, with Lady Liberty and Manhattan in full view behind me. Loverly.
Khoof: Awesomeness. Is ‘inflamed anus’ is the new ‘taint‘?
Tamasha: Sorry, is there something below Reclamation? Where the ricks stop, I stop.
Thanks Ol’ man. Howver, much like the moon, we can only reflect glory. ;-)
at 1am? On a school night? Hai! Vot will happen you of?
It is just a rather painful memory of a bovine’s suppurating rear that’s seared into my brain.
vow…manish and khoofia, u both made my day…u also both make a good pair of writers and may be should write together…good writing…keep in up..hilarious…
Khoofia here is a song picturised just the romani way..chand chupa badal me…his secret hope of meeting the female persuasion and all those latka jhatka payal and gaghra…aiswarya and salman in hum dil de chuke sanam..
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o5ToZxLESCs
cute write up Manish and a cute reply khoofia..thank u..enjoyed reading it a lot..
Manish remembered two poems for u..
one is by vikram seth- for all of u who sleep tonite..vikram seths poem reads ”
All you who sleep tonight
far from the ones you love
No hand to left or right
and emptiness above
know that you arent alone
the whole world shares your tears
some for two nights or one
and some for all their years” by vikram seth..
Also remembered this free verse from Richard Bachs romantic novel “bridge across forever” I dont know why whenever I see quiet dark skies with moon and winking stars Iam reminded of this lovely poem..
Dawn’s peaceful, luminous blue Intensified
with the day As did happiness,
Blue … bluer the bluest
White puffs of delight,
Joyover flowing,
Until sunset Wrapped us in tender pink
And we fused in a Passionate magneta goodbye,
Earth-soul and Cosmic-soul
Bursting with beauty.
When night came,
A baby moonLaughed sideways in the dark
I laughed back And thought
Partway across the world
Your sky Is filled with this same Golden laughter,
And hoped that you, Twinkling Blue Eyes,
Saw and heard,
So that somehow we three
Were joined in our gladness,
Each in our own space,
Together apart
Distance meaningless.
And I slept In a world Full of smiles
wishing u a world full of smiles - by Richard Bach.
I didnot watch the lunar eclipse last nite but reading ur write up and the reply is like watching a beautiful lunar eclipse…beauty of words and word play..
hmm..I didnot know watch man lock the apartments in the nite..I never went out in the nite from my hyderabad apt..but the apartment had a watchman..probably he must be locking it too …interesting..best thing is to have a tea pot , some tea and elachi in the apartment to make tea whenever u like…
I knew it. There’s bollywood in me yet. The next R2D2K3G#9RTTT will be penned by me.
here’s a great pic of the eclipse