As-Salaam-Alaikum, me wished Noor as he parked the Maruti at the gate; young Noor with a French beard returned Wa-Alaikum-Salaam. After the peace exchange in Arabic, Rama and me boarded the vehicle for the 33 ft. tall, single granite stone, Hanuman Temple at Nerul. It was a quick overnight take; we decided on Hanuman for Saturday and got son Ganesh to fix up a car; friend Dimesh Patel promptly put Noor on the job; he came at 6.15, some 15 minutes late, a pardonable sin in Mumbai; does not need a causatory essay; morning roads bare; Powai Lake still pocketing rain drops; walkers and runners, a few; in about an hour we were at the temple, empty on a Saturday; girls and boys were sauntering to the SIES College, sharing space with Hanuman, hands folded in an ever ever ever pranam. In quiet we stood, in prayers in front of the Lord from on high; the Lord has a presence and this Saturday there were not many to share grace; Rama was into Hanuman Chalisa and me stood reworking words of Frank Alexander: 'Pray, Pray - pray constantly, pray always.' Of course it did not happen. The Boss and his family - Ram, Sita and Lakshman - were there, have to be where Hanuman is. Spent nearly an hour before Hanumanji as the priest prayed prayers; the prasad of til rice was tasty, requested an extra helping, got it. Rama stepped into famed Giri Stores, picked up Tamil writers Laskhmi and Shivasankari as me stood by trees; jackfruits, rain trees and the ever, ever Sadaphules - pink and white. Taking in the Devi, Shiva and Adi Samkara clocked two hours in the dripping quiet. A bye, a hullo to Hanumanji and a Siya Ram ji ki before stepping into the car at 9. Offered a banana - prasad - to Noor; he accepted it easily. Noor is from Jamnagar, settled in Dahisar for years; a Class 10 boy, runs a school bus and tourist cars; 'main mandir dekha hoon,' he adds. Parked at a Udipi hotel (what else), ordered masala dosas and wadas (thats for sure); Noor went for masal dosa and tea; and the long run back; in the car we chatted to tunes of a popular Sai Baba song, followed by Sairat craze; if Kerala is swinging to Premam, Mumbai and Maharashtra are jiving to Sairat; and the stopping is not. Noor spells out every detail in Sairat, having seen the film probably many times at home; nothing like Sairat has happened in Mumbai in recent times; every Mumbai young couple on Marine Drive is the famed Sairat pair of Rinku Rajguru and Akash Thosar. Trip over Noor said: Yaad rakhiye. Khuda Hafiz.
Saturday, July 9, 2016
To the Lord
As-Salaam-Alaikum, me wished Noor as he parked the Maruti at the gate; young Noor with a French beard returned Wa-Alaikum-Salaam. After the peace exchange in Arabic, Rama and me boarded the vehicle for the 33 ft. tall, single granite stone, Hanuman Temple at Nerul. It was a quick overnight take; we decided on Hanuman for Saturday and got son Ganesh to fix up a car; friend Dimesh Patel promptly put Noor on the job; he came at 6.15, some 15 minutes late, a pardonable sin in Mumbai; does not need a causatory essay; morning roads bare; Powai Lake still pocketing rain drops; walkers and runners, a few; in about an hour we were at the temple, empty on a Saturday; girls and boys were sauntering to the SIES College, sharing space with Hanuman, hands folded in an ever ever ever pranam. In quiet we stood, in prayers in front of the Lord from on high; the Lord has a presence and this Saturday there were not many to share grace; Rama was into Hanuman Chalisa and me stood reworking words of Frank Alexander: 'Pray, Pray - pray constantly, pray always.' Of course it did not happen. The Boss and his family - Ram, Sita and Lakshman - were there, have to be where Hanuman is. Spent nearly an hour before Hanumanji as the priest prayed prayers; the prasad of til rice was tasty, requested an extra helping, got it. Rama stepped into famed Giri Stores, picked up Tamil writers Laskhmi and Shivasankari as me stood by trees; jackfruits, rain trees and the ever, ever Sadaphules - pink and white. Taking in the Devi, Shiva and Adi Samkara clocked two hours in the dripping quiet. A bye, a hullo to Hanumanji and a Siya Ram ji ki before stepping into the car at 9. Offered a banana - prasad - to Noor; he accepted it easily. Noor is from Jamnagar, settled in Dahisar for years; a Class 10 boy, runs a school bus and tourist cars; 'main mandir dekha hoon,' he adds. Parked at a Udipi hotel (what else), ordered masala dosas and wadas (thats for sure); Noor went for masal dosa and tea; and the long run back; in the car we chatted to tunes of a popular Sai Baba song, followed by Sairat craze; if Kerala is swinging to Premam, Mumbai and Maharashtra are jiving to Sairat; and the stopping is not. Noor spells out every detail in Sairat, having seen the film probably many times at home; nothing like Sairat has happened in Mumbai in recent times; every Mumbai young couple on Marine Drive is the famed Sairat pair of Rinku Rajguru and Akash Thosar. Trip over Noor said: Yaad rakhiye. Khuda Hafiz.
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