Goose bumps !

That feel is back. Unmistakably.

For many years, I was enamored by songs that set the patriotic pulse
racing. For over 7 years, my mobile ringtone was the indian national song,
Sare jahan se achcha hindustan hamara. Ironically, the poet, Mohammed
iqbal, was amongst the first to float the idea of the two nation theory,
which culminated in the partition of india into two dominions in 1947.

These were also the words that Rakesh Sharma, the first indian national
to go in space, told the then prime minister, indira Gandhi, when she asked
him how was india looking like from space.

The indian national anthem was a daily feature of my school assembly, and
was something I always looked forward to.

It always invigorated, it always charged up the morning. It never became my
mobile ring tone, because I felt obligated to stand up every time jana Gana
mana played, and it was not a great idea to stand up every time the mobile
phone rang.

Jana gana mana, became the reason I started liking rabindranath
tagore, its poet. My none too venerated feelings towards tagore earlier were on
account of my bangla textbook, sahaj path, or easy book, of which he was
the author. I used to barely pass the subject ( most times I failed - once I scored a 0 on 10 in a class test ) when I moved to calcutta in
the 80s, and poor performance in bangla meant missing out on an overall
good rank. This led me to attribute my poor academic performance in those
early days in calcutta to tagore.

Redemption for tagore came when I started loving jana gana mana, a few
years later. That he was the only person in the world to author the
national anthem of two countries, Bangladesh being the other, further
elevated his status in the 7 year old's perception.

Later day controversies, speculation around tagore having written jana gana
mana in honour of the prince of Wales' visit to india, could do little to
diminish my adoration of the song.

The words had always been soul stirring !

Yet today, during a random surfing of you tube, when I chanced upon this
link below, I experienced a very different jana gana mana. There are no
words in it, as It is from a group of physically challenged students, who
use sign language to sing, if I can call it that.
The goose bumps are back, the soul is stirring again.
Have seen this video over 20 times in the last hour, and want to see more.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VW-tH9Y6nno

Go ahead, help yourself. Feel uplifted !

Bombay !

Standing at a vantage point in life, when i am able to neatly bisect my years into almost equal halves, i find myself back to where phase-II of the journey began.

The 24th of October, 1995.

Just yesterday.

The Bhagalpur-Kurla Express logs in to Kurla station on the day of the last total solar eclipse of the (20th) century and deposits me into Bombay as part of the engineering course technical tour.

That is the time, starting with all that Bombay had to offer to a young student tourist, when a whole new world of places, of people, of experiences opened up.

More significantly, it opened up the mind.

Expanded the notions of possibility.

It was like the whiff of fresh air you experience when you watch this song from the (then) blockbuster Bollywood movie, shot at Kurla station, with a board christening it Vasco da Gama (Goa station).

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qbQ2F2Wosps

Which other place could have helped me embark on that journey better than Bombay.

Today, as i spend my first relaxed evening in Bombay after decades, i can't but help reflect on the years since that day my train came to Kurla.

The journey from then on has involved a host of people, places and experiences.

Has almost changed me almost completely as a person.

From a shy introvert. From a theoretical idealist. From being judgmental. From a finicky traveler. From being someone with fixated notions.

Seems like big stuff.

Yet, there was nothing exceptional which had happened in that October 1995 trip to Bombay. I went to the Gateway of India. Did a catamaran tour. Went to Taj Mahal Hotel and had the most expensive coffee of my life at Rs. 55. Went to the museum. To the boot house. Toured the aquarium. Juhu. Purchased my first (and last) Nike shoe for Rs 125 at Fashion street (its original, the shopkeeper had told me...i still have no reason to disbelieve). Extensively traveled on the bombay local trains. In doing all that, though, there was a never experienced feeling of being liberated. Of being free. Sans everything. Of having a certain sense of audaciousness. Which, probably, led me to dropping that game changing picture postcard* from a letter-box close to Flora Fountain.

From then on, action has been quite non stop: across countries, across hemi-speheres.

Today, after so many years, and on my nth visit to Bombay, watching all the buzz and energy of its inhabitants around me (despite the numerous challenges that dog them) , i once again get that compelling feeling of possibility. That anything can happen. That lots can be done. That the world continues to be a nice place, inhabited by nice people.

And there is once again an empty canvas in front of me.

I feel good.