the world was celebrating Christmas and the air in the city was thick with the aroma of pine, mulled wine and plum cake. It had been an uncommonly warm winter, but with a sudden dip in temperature across the continent, the weather took a turn. By the time it was evening, snow had started falling thickly, making the tops of houses, trees, shops and cars look like they had been frosted by a whimsical baker. It was as if the whole city was ensconced in a Christmas bubble.
There were fairy lights strung up everywhere, and the great Christmas tree twinkled in the middle of the market square. Music and conversation streamed out of open windows. It was difficult to be troubled by every day cares when faced with the prospect of delicious meals and the warm company of family and friends. Even those who were finishing up their Christmas shopping in a rush were compelled to stop and soak in the festive air. Couples were walking hand in hand, families with toddlers in arms and children were milling around, and the shopkeepers were trying their best to keep up with the orders. A choir group was giving away caramel dipped apples and eggnog. Some of them were headed to the church, whose spire was visible above the buildings. They would start to toll when the midnight service began.
The whole city was in a holiday mood, except for a young scientist who was hunched over his desk, cursing viciously. 28-year-old Jack was sitting alone in his lab, going over the results from his latest experiment, and by the looks of it, they were not good. This could not be happening for the tenth time, he thought. He wondered if he had messed up some calculation somewhere again, but it was not likely. He had been very cautious and double checked everything. Then he remembered that his lab assistant had not given him a bit of work that he was supposed to have finished.
“Simon!” he yelled.
“Simon, why the hell haven’t you recalibrated the figures I told you to. I told you to get it
finished this morning!”
On the verge of losing his temper, he heaved himself away from his desk with a grunt to stick his head out of his office and yell once more. “Damn,” he muttered. He had totally forgotten that his lab assistant, Simon, would be at home with his family. It was Christmas and he had forgotten. There was a time when such a realisation would have shocked him, but not anymore. He was a complete workaholic. He tried to remember where Simon could have put the recalibrated results because he wanted to cross check them with his own numbers.
Where could he have put them? Where? Jack was getting annoyed, but realised it was unfair that he keep his juniors from their families on a day like this.
Jack rummaged through Simon’s desk, mixing up everything, papers rustling, as he searched frantically. With his other hand, he was already dialling his number. No answer. Simon finally picked up his mobile phone on the third try. Jack could hear yells in the background, Simon was obviously in the middle of a party and sounded a little annoyed. “What…Jack,” he ended softly, suddenly realising that his boss was on the other end of the line. Simon started going over the things that could have gone wrong, for Jack would never interrupt unless there was a dire emergency. Panic was always near the surface for Simon, and with a demanding boss like Jack, one had to be extremely cautious. The latter was often curt and had no patience for bumbling ineptness. “Is everything okay? Did something happen in the lab? Is there a fire? Are you…?”
“Good god!” interrupted Jack. He had begun to realise that it hadn’t been the best idea to interrupt Simon’s Christmas dinner. The boy rarely had time to himself, without Jack intruding on festivals too. “Listen, did you recalibrate the thing I asked you to? I cannot find
the results anywhere.”
There was silence…”Simon, where are they?”
The sounds of the party could be heard over the phone, but not a word from Simon. “Jack,” he said hesitantly, “There’s nothing wrong with our calculations. It just isn’t going to work. I recalibrated it twice, and got the same result as you did. May it is time to move on to other projects?”
Walking Through a Vanishing Landscape
There is the prehistoric geological landscape.
There are centuries-old fishing communities.
There is the Portuguese military presence.
There are later transformations under British and Indian rule.
And now there is the rapidly expanding Mumbai metropolitan region.
All these histories occupy the same landscape.
The challenge is making sure the newest layer does not completely erase the oldest.
As the monsoon waves continue to hit the coast and modern Vasai continues to expand, these forgotten basalt walls remain silent witnesses.
They remind us that Mumbai’s history does not end at its famous landmarks.
Sometimes the most fascinating stories are hidden behind the last building, beyond the paved road and beneath the monsoon vegetation.
And perhaps the real adventure is not simply discovering a forgotten fort.
It is discovering **the forgotten history of the landscape itself.**
