A mongrel for a mascot?

They are ubiquitous, timid, friendly, affectionate, and have personalities all of their own; they sidle up to you at street corners, follow you down dark alleys, scamper by your side when you’re crossing the streets and with their never- say- die- spirit, are potent symbols of the very city they inhabit.

And yet, news comes in that Mumbai’s mongrels are under threat from a group of cyber monsters who have flooded social networking site Orkut with ways and means to kill strays.

What kind of person would want to kill a dog? And not any dog, a dog that’s homeless, underfed, starved of affection and lost? I could not bear to read the descriptions that these ill advised and misguided youth listed as their methods of dog annihilation.

They were too violent and shocking. But it reminded me of all the strays I have known and loved.

Strays that have adopted me, strays that have made feel welcome in strange neighbourhoods, and strays that have wagged their tails and kept in step with me as I’ve travelled around Mumbai’s streets.

Laxman has immortalised Mumbai’s crows in his masterful sketches, but to Mario Miranda goes the credit of capturing the spirit of Mumbai’s strays- it’s very own unmistakable, skinny, low rent, low life creatures of the streets.

I vote that if ever there’s a mascot needed for this can -do –will- do megapolis, we should elect to have a Mumbai stray in that position; what else epitomises this city better?

Just when you thought Mumbai could not take another high rise super luxe residential tower - news comes in that Donald Trump Junior has set his eyes on developing luxury homes for its super rich citizenship.

For a city that’s been famous for its run down, down at heel, brown and gray residential complexes, with their box like structures and exposed washing hanging out to dry, these are heady times indeed!

I recall a recent first time visitor to Mumbai’s confusion at the fact that some of its richest inhabitants lived in homes that resembled slightly better versions of slums. All that’s going to change obviously, with the big players eyeing this promising sector.

So every time you pass a run down, dilapidated, residential block, wish it goodbye.

Because before you know it, in its place will come a spanking, tall tower, that self consciously proclaims it’s allegiance with the world’s fastest growing economy!

And winter comes to Mumbai. It creeps in on us, gently and without fuss. One day you go to sleep with the fan on and the next morning you wake up cold and shivering and notice that the streets are misty and smog bound.

That’s when you think you ought to unpack the one cardigan you possess. And you wear it the next evening a little awkwardly, because in Mumbai no one really knows how to greet the winter.

It is an almost unacknowledged guest like an illicit lover, or an uninvited gate crasher at a sit down dinner.

I have spent winters in Kolkata where it gets dark and cold by late afternoon- and in Delhi where winter is just an excuse for society ladies to bring out their pashminas and the trees to show off their blooms.

Both I lived through and survived. But if I had a choice Mumbai is the place where I’d like to spend my winters forever.

Ronen Sen had to apologise for his headless chicken remark and Manoj Kumar went on National TV to complain about being the subject of a spoof on OSO.

We are a grim, humourless people who take ourselves far too seriously. With all our global pretensions and booming economy-when will we learn to laugh at ourseslves?
— s_malavika @dnaindia.net