The Lion in his Lair

A lot of us who know fr. Robin have associated with him over the camps he used to run in Khandala. A few weekends ago just after Childrens Day I happened to be in Khandala along with two other friends all intent on a camping scene in the hills but we were met with some unexpected weather and the light November rain became incessant as we tried waiting it out. Now with all the woods and grounds wet we weren't quite prepared for this situation and I decided to play the Ace up my sleeve!

These friends I was up with were game for camping out in the mountains. They're not walkers by any measure however ones a biker gal and the other produces Electronic Dance Music and is a cyclist. I simply love Khandala, even if I don't do much out there except for soaking in the outdoors or drinking beer at the local bar. I figured I would wake up in the wilderness and go find Fr. Robin the next day as he completed his Retreat before heading back to Bombay. The crazy weather forced my hand and I messaged Fr. Robin and asked him if we could meet up earlier and if there was room for 3 stowaways. That was all! As we finished a lazy breakfast at Shivlaxmi (the only snack bar that offers a view of the Sayhadris while you eat) and moved on to the next course that includes a healthy serving of Liquid wheat.

Gupshup has a room that offers a view of the lake, but for some reason it was closed so we wentand sat in the next room which proferred a view of the Mumbai Pune Express Way. Vehicles zipping back to Bombay had their foglights on and high beams painting designs as they swerved through the rain. The five blades on the ceiling fan was superflouous out here in Khandala, but would be a cool thing to have at my home back in Bombay. My mind refocussed on matters close at hand and after a couple of hours spent at Gupshup pondering our next move and way forward we stepped out into the open once more. There was a light rain in the air as I met an old friend who drove us to Bandra Villa as St. Stanislaus Villa is reffered to in Khandala.

It was well after Lunch and we let ourselves in through the gates and docked our bags in the front Porch of Fr. Robins Room so he'd know we had arrived and we took a walk along the Reservoir wall. We opened up our foam mat and sat down in the middle of nowhere surrounded by just water, bush and patches of sky visible through the gaps in the trees and mountains taking in the view as small birds and squirrels darted from tree to tree. An hour later we went back to the villa and met Fr. Robin over tea and biscuits. He made arrangements with Fr. Huan to house us for the night and we chose to cook our own dinner as we had all the makings in our bags. The next afternoon as my two friends still slept I led 4 youth into the mountains beyond the villa snaking through tall grasses growing along the slopes that led higher up into the Range we knew as The Sausages. The first Hilltop we were told is Barometer Hill and so called because when clouds touch the peak it rains in Khandala. The 4 novices came running down the mountainside in glee as I called out to them and we headed back to Camp.I was out of shape and out of breath so instead of holding up the rest I let them run ahead as I pointed the way. Although they may soon be men of the Cloth I felt like Moses who led the people to the promised land. I managed to have a long chat with Fr. Robin before it was time for lunch and we packed up our bags and left.

The Khandala Boys

It was a friday night and I had a date with a Jesuit Priest and an Officer in the NZPD... Not too strange to stumble upon this New Zealand Cop on city streets in Bombay if you know his schedule nor to go knocking on the door of this People friendly priest with not so people friendly neighbours in the recesses beyond Holy Family Church in Andheri. It wasn't too late and the plan was set two days earlier amidst cluttered desks and people in pain. Our calendars were marked and inspite of no contact over the next 2-3 days we were on course with our destiny.

October 3rd 2014 I set off from home towards Andheri,detoured into the church for some prayerful solitude before venturing out once more uphill towards the living quarters of the priests. Outside the door stood this lanky figure clad in TShirt and Shorts and a knapsack on his back. Even in Civvies you'd give no lip to this gent if he were to accost you in a lonely alley. A quick telephone call and the Priest pops out of his lair to open the door to what could pass of for barracks in an old school hall. We walked quietly past closed doors and Bookshelves against the walls till we came to his den and only once we were in did we exchange pleasantaries and greetings

Meeting after ages we've known each other for over 15 years at least if not more. I met Fr. Robin on many occasions in Bombay but I really got to know him in Khandala where he conducted family camps for catholics and their friends. At once such camp I met the Gore Family, not Al Gore but Mash Gore and little did I know that that interaction would lead to me bagging my first job after I had graduated. Not like I didn't do odd jobs to pay for my indulgences during college but I didn't really have to then. Fresh Out of college and unwilling to yet take on the yoke of the corporate world and be bound to the shackles of the Nine to Five syndrome I was happily holidaying at the Camp, regaling the folk with twisted tales about Mountain legends that lived on in the Graveyards beyond Kune and sightings of wild beast and strange lights in the night. Work I had to do but it was all fun: Leading a bunch out on a early morning trek uphill or into a ravine. Planning games and entertainment for the afternoon and evening, Rationing out meals at the dining halls and managing flow of human traffic to the various spots in and around camp within the timetable that was set. I was all over the place doing all kinds of everything and answered only to Fr. Robin. Ash asked me if I would work with them- I declined, Mash later on asked me if I'd help them with the work they did to which I obliged and thats how it all started!

Thats exactly how I got my first break,No interview, no resume made, no knocking on doors, no asking for favours. While I was away on vacation I get a job offer! I worked with the Gores doing some stuff that seemed mundane clerical stuff initially until it evolved into something amazing- The McDonalds Spotlight! We launched a showcase of Talent, an inter school performing arts competition at The Spastic Society of India hall in Bandra Reclammation where students of more than 20 schools across Mumbai and Pune took part in Elocution, Essays, Poetry, Drama and Dance. It was fantastic! I couldn't believe what we just created out of all the leg work, the mailing, sorting, cold calling and outreach to this one big day, a mega event where we were just a team of 3 doing too much. Six months had gone by since I took up that job on a 1000 rupee stipend. As I prepared to ask for a raise Mash told me they were migrating to New Zealand where the grass was greener and the Mountains Taller and the Life was perhaps better. I was left to do what I could with the business they worked hard to set up and Platform Communications wound down into a mere M.L.D. Promotions. No MBA and no business sense, I trode on eggshells trying to make a living over the next 2 year planning and coordinating events in schools across Bombay and Pune for the Golden Arches. The money was good and the people were fine but in 2003 I cashed in my chips traded the Burgers and Hash Browns for a bunch of fun nights at the Call Center.

Today in 2014 we 3 Khandala Boys, one older than the other settled down to warm familiar conversation as we awaited our order from Sai Palace next door. We opened up some fruit juices and fizzy drinks while we spoke about people, time and places we knew. Technology helps you stay in touch without really connecting. Sitting face to face, taking in each others company, the paralanguage and non verbal communication syncing in unlike the emotionless emoticon or display pic we're accustomed to on the 'social' network. the delivery boy came in 30 minutes later, we were hungry and the smell of Butter Chicken filled the room as we set up our tiny dining table in the cramped room. Fr. Robin went about his 'circumcision' routine with his Scissors snip snip snipping away at the cello tape strips that held the plastic lids in place, then the packets of Spring Onion and slices of lemon. I made him open a packet of pickle for good measure and then unfoiled a stack of Rumali Rotis you could actually open up and blow your nose in if you had a mind to. This particular combination is our staple diet in these parts unless we feel in the mood for some Chinese and Sai Palace I must say has the best Butter Chicken I've tasted in this town so far.

Conversation stopped for the next 30 minutes except when we had to say hello to Bindu who dropped in and as we passed her a plate so she could join in the feast we got back to the quickly dwindling task at hand. Dinner was soon done and we moved on to dessert. Bindu surprised us with Rasgullas from Rambharosay Dairy and Sweets next door that disappeared in no time at all. I prodded Fr. Robin to open up the box of New Zealand Chocolate he just got which he whelmently denied having received. Then reluctantly he extracted an open box of Belgian Chocolate (I guess he knew that I would leave his room until I had my fill of chocolate) So we spent more time as the others watched me eat more chocolate. Then leaving the good priest to retire in his chamber we made our exit and went along our way... each in a different direction recharged and ready for what ever it was that life has to offer.

May Camp 2014

This season I seriously thought I would have to give Fr. Robins camp a miss... Something all of us helpers simply hate having to do. When I visited Fr. Robin now posted as an Assistant Parish Priest at Holy Famly Church he asked if I would lead the campers down to the Garden of Eden, one of the most gruelling treks we put them through over their 6 day adventure in Christian living. I declined on two accounts, firstly I wasn't sure how my fractured heels would hold up on the treacherous trail and secondly I had committed to a pro bono assignment to photograph the Remedian Rink Football Tournament held at Our Lady of Remedy Parish in Poisar that was scheduled on the same dates as the camp.(18th-25th May) A couple of weeks later another old camper called me to say the St. Stanislaus Villa Camp that was being shepherded by Fr. Robin was overbooked and she was unable to get a spot for her family and friends. The third temptation came when all my fellow helpers began making plans to travel up to camp over the weekend after work... As tantalizing as those plans were I avoided their lure. My wife wanted me home that Sunday and so I began to look forward to a relaxing Sunday with a sumptuous break fast, followed by the Sunday afternoon movie, a siesta and an entertaining game of Scrabble before the day was done.

But that was not meant to be... I get this call from Abeer, a chap I befriended last monsoon at the Chinchoti treks I do every year and he was keen to go for another trek. Our mutual friend, Nish had already made plans for Khandala and so asked him to get in touch with me. Now this was something I die for... To take the wilderness to people. Let them experience the joy of the outdoors like never before, the thrills, chills and spills. Eden, is that one Gravity Defying Trek that has it all in abundance. They say the road to Paradise ain't never easy and The Garden of Eden stands evidence to this fact. So I made up my mind to go for the trek I wasn't supposed to. I asked Abeer to round up his group and give me number as soon as possible. We just had two more days to go before the trek, so I just asked a couple of other friends I thought could do with the break but their negative response was based on the merciless summer heat. Few people expect to find cool waters at Eden this time of the year but yes at the end of the trail lies an icy surprise or two. I tweaked my plans and coaxed the wife to let me off the hook, promising to return by sunset on Sunday in time to take her to watch the Finals of the Rink Foot ball Tournament.

Sunday morning I met Abeer and Priyanka at Malad Station a little past 4:45AM and took a train to Dadar from where we shared a Tavera that took off at 6:00 AM and dropped us at the Khandala Exit bang on schedule at 8:00 AM. The campers had already set off from Camp at around 6:45 AM and we had a lot of catching up to do. The first difficult descent we came to was a head rush of adrenaline but we crossed it successfully. About an hour and a half later we were done trekking through the ravine and entered the valley basin to the group of campers splashing about in the pool of water and sunning themselves on the rocks. I introduced my new friends to Captain Tesclin, Carlos, Dr. Evonne, Richard and a bunch of other new campers. In less than an hour we got ready to head back up to St. Marys before the noon day sun bore down on us. It took us under two hours to make it to the top with intermittent stops for water and to rest our weary muscles, pulling ourselves up the rock face is a safer and easier task but it works muscle groups in your arms and legs you never knew existed. As soon as we were done with the trek I met Fr. Robin waiting to drive his brood back home to camp in time for lunch and refeshments. I gave him a big hug before introducing him to "A Beer" and his friend and we made a quick getaway to the local Liquor store for a round of cold Beers to celebrate the completion of our trek. We left Ghupshup with a good buzz but our hungry stomaches led us to El Taj for some delicious Tandoori Chicken and Reshmi Kababs before we boarded a Volvo for our journey back to Bombay

Old is Gold

It was a Tuesday and I was scheduled to meet fr. Robin. A quick train ride and brisk walk against the tide of people heading homeward and I was at his door just before 08:00PM. I remembered to top up his sim card along the way and we settled down to old familiar conversation... easy, unmasked and spontaneous -the type you'll rarely come across in your normal working life. This quality of conversation is only found among true friends or selfless beings on a higher plane of reality.

We were surprised by a visit from a very jet lagged Bindu, and although she was there for just a while she helped us plan the special event on the 17th March that we were actually here to brainstorm about. As we tossed ideas around and shot down a few as we identified constraints and opportunities we were interrupted by a parishioner who wanted to speak to our favourite priest. The Good fr. Robin spoke to her ascertaining that it wasn't anything serious or something she'd kill herself over before tactfully shooing her away. We got down to business and weren't able to come to a conclusion as to a precise plan of action but had enough ideas in our heads to play around with and see what comes about. In another 4 days time its going to be Fr. Robins 47th Anniversary since he joined the Society of Jesus. I told him priests of his ilk are pretty rare -a notion shared by many who've chanced to meet and interact with him. Bindu left soon enough and we ordered dinner from Sai Palace next door. I'd promised fr. Robin a feast and we rung up a Butter Chicken and 5 paper thin flat breads you could use to blow your nose in. This has been our staple diet for years together before we discovered other dishes on the menu that took our fancy- The Chicken Korean Noodles and Yung Chow Fried Rice! (Sai Palace Tandoori Chicken just cant beat the one we get at El Taj in Khandala). During dinner I told him about my recent jaunt into Pune in quest of good beer and my recent experience with Double Stout that tasted like Exotic Dark Chocolate from Sheperd Neame & Co., supposedly the oldest brewery in Britain. Once well fed, we were able to think more clearly and even managed to solve a few problems that never came to mind. Looking forward to a celebratory mass with a few of our inner circle we laid out plans for next week. Equally dividing 4 remaining Ferrero Rochers between us for dessert we happily parted ways until our next meet up.

Around the world in 80 years....

Fr. Robin turned 80 on January 15th 2014 and we celebrated this milestone with a Mass and Pound Party at Ashankur Hall between Holy Family Church and the Graveyard. I didn't quite expect to see such a crowd and they numbered around 80 by the end of the evening ... people popping in after work to join in the celebrations and wish the man of the moment! Everyone brought a plate so the food and drink was quite adequate to quell the apetite of the swelling crowd. It was many years since we stopped having the family camps in Khandala and Now that hes a part of priests tending to the flock at Holy Family Parish I expected to see a many new, unknown faces. Rushing from work, I managed to pick up a cake from Merwans and zig zagging through pedestrian traffic heading homeward I trudged up the slopes leading to the Hall. Earlier that day I invited my folks to the party and my dad was already there, my sister was still on her way and would take another hour or so to reach. A friend of mine was dicing with the idea of dropping by but I wasn't too sure she'd make it.

As I entered the hall, I saw fr. Robin enrobed in the Cassock and making introductions amongst his congregation, Mass begun with gusto and there was prayer and singing, the sermon and gospel a repition of yester years but all in all it was a pretty good service. Theres a different kind of warmth that comes from knowing your neighbour intimately and I realized during this communion what it is that the Church pursues with its community masses, rosaries and Basic Christian Community get-togethers. Mass was soon over and people milled around to wish Fr. Robin and lay out all the food they'd brought. 5 Cakes on the table and 6 dozen candles were lit for the Birthday Boy to blow out as the crowd sang "Happy Birthday" out of key. Cool drinks were poured, sandwiches, patties and cake did the rounds as we all mingled, catching up with those whom we knew. Most faces were of veterans from camps I'd missed and I thought the young brigade were engaged elsewhere, but they made a late appearance on the scene. My friend Mona, did turn up and as it turned out she too knew a couple of others in the crowd so I guess it was a good catch up. Among the familiars were Tesclin and Carlos with their families, Aunt Fats, Aunt Cynthia, Bindu and Arleene and her kids. My KBA Team Mates: Ryan, Neil and Nishtha also arrived although a tad late.

I'm glad we had a fine time that day because I've noticed life getting a dash to tight for comfort all of a sudden... too busy, too hectic, too politicized. I've managed to meet Fr. Robin every once in a while and each time I find something missing, some old part that has crumbled from that old memory of the fun and joy life was. Now fully engaged as an Assistant Parish Priest, duty bound to be on call all the time, actually having to live in a community as crazy as a bunch of half a dozen ageing priests can probably get- No longer foot loose and fancy free to roam the high hills and mountains -thats a cagey feeling and I've felt it enough times to know how it chaffes at the wrist. Writing this today and knowing he is out in the hills doing what he loves at this moment is a good thought to end this day on.