Horse back to Thane

Devesh enjoying his manchow soup

The road to Thane from this side of town is so full of potholes that you feel more like you’re jogging in a saddle than riding in your car. Bumpitty bumpitty bump bump. After swerving every which way to avoid hitting some biggies Raju finally got us to Cine Wonder on Godbunder Road where I was to meet Devesh and there he was, waving and grinning away as soon as he spotted us. Devesh is a friend who put together a very nice group towards the end of last year, for whom I conducted a series of sessions on "stillness and listening."

We had lunch at a restaurant called “Lemon” owned by a friend of his. It is a nice rustic place, open air and covered with a canopy (wonder how they manage with the rains!) Along one side is a row of alcoves furnished with low tables and mats on the floor. Very informal like. You can even get a hookah so D and I decided to try one. Apricot flavoured. It was much stronger for some reason than those I smoked in Turkey. The food was not bad – we ordered Chinese. (Okay, the usual Punjabi Chinese it was, Manchow soup, fried rice and Manchurian chicken).

The reason for my going to Thane was to meet Mahendra and his students. He was at the Sri Guru Akademy of Art. (Hope I got that right!) It was close to where we ate, about five minutes down the road in Hiranandani Estate. I expected a modest middle class venue but this one turned out to be real swanky, with shiny marble floors and I loved the nice clean toilets. What took me aback a bit were smiling garlanded portraits on every wall of old Sri Sri. I always get suspicious when I see portraits of smiling gurus. Guru stuff makes me suspicious anyway and the big smilers make me even more nervous than the normal looking ones. It’s like Big Brother is watching you – even if it is with a smile. And of course you know the smile is conditional …

About thirty odd students had turned up for Mahendra’s lecture and he was pissed off with them for not doing their homework, which was to observe and draw a window. Any window. A window in a car or a house or anywhere at all. About two out of the entire lot had done what they were supposed to, and we discussed their work.

After the lecture I wandered through some of the other rooms where art works by the students had been displayed, right from the eight and nine year olds to the adults. These are mainly students of Vijaya – Mahendra’s wife, who is also an artist. They were terrific. Especially the ones done by the youngsters. Very vibrant and colourful.