It's been 4 yrs and so, if needlessly nostalgic, please cut me some slack.
To retrace our old stomping grounds, Usha and I set off on foot today from Bombay VT. Before long, we stop at Kandils sidewalk stall for Ganga-Jamuna juice ("Bisleri nahi lagega boss" - only fresh squeeze, no water used).
On the Fort sidewalk, the eyes wander to see if pirated movies (and 'those' titles) are still being hawked.
("Good that you're with me, Appa always said avoid this stretch of sidewalk").
Continue walking and get into Rhythm House music store (just browsing, seldom buying). Further on, lost our way to that pen store in the Fountain area. Usha has a thing for ball point pens and I have bought her several from here in the past. Today, for old times' sake, it was an original Pilot pen (you know, off-white with a speck of blue on top).
More stomping towards Regal, and made a mental note to have the egg frankie another day. Then hop into a cab, already salivating about the special (its always the 'special') Pav Bhaji at Shiv Sagar in Churchgate. Occupied a 4-seater table and sitting, giggling, both on one side. ("Avoid the "soumf" (supaari) at the end - people tip coins into that steel tray and one can never tell how many times and where those coins have changed hands").
Lamenting the loss of pavement book stalls before cooling off with Roasted walnut icecream for Usha (at Naturals) and Icecream sandwich for me at K Rustoms ("I can count 15 restaurant code violations just sitting here":)).
Just like before, buying a single red rose (at single-digit Re/- no more) for Usha and the pavement florist touching the note against herself & her framed Goddess, it being a "bonee" (her first sale of the day). Then marveling at her little daughter sitting cross-legged on the ground, neatly but furiously solving math sums in her ruled notebook.
Ambling on, hearing and soaking in snatches of Mumbai conversation. "Your dad gave you 20000 to buy an iPad mini, no?" Instead of who/ what/ why, stylishly adding a 'No' and ? at the end of sentences ... is that a hep South Bombay thing, college crowd thing or a Convent thing? Wouldn't our beautiful language be poorer for lack of such variations?
Walk by Marine Drive but then walk away all too soon, head pounded by the overbearing heat. Its then cold coffee with a dollop of vanilla ice-cream, like you can only find here! Awash in memories with every sip and spoon.
More sidewalk walking and clearly, that's not where the rest of Mumbai walks. We love to walk on the road just off the footpath, in the opposite direction of traffic. With hawkers and other encroachment, that's understandable. But what a world of experience we miss! Walking elsewhere in the city, saw a 'bhajiya' vendor teaching his young apprentice how to chop onion and cauliflower. Food Network style right on the pavements of my big and brash city!
Almost run into by a careless 2-wheeler and how instinctively I use my Bombayya gaali ("diktha nahi kya Kajhurr":)). Shocked at my brazenness, Usha & I then dissolved into peals of laughter. (In the meantime, soaking in Mumbai his own way, Aakash had been poring over an email of Bombayya Hindi slang sent by a relative. Hearing 'Ded shaana', 'Jhakaas' from an NRI kid's lips - does language get any more exotic?
Move to Oval Maidan to catch some maidan cricket (Mumbai has, and always will, evoke cricket first and foremost). Then lingering to see if the batsman will make a lofted shot or do the perfect pull.
Meeting friends who live here (among the birds in fairytale places - big towers - high above the city) and as I use the new freeways, it occurs to me that the Mumbai of old has moved on. Perhaps beyond measure.
But for today, for just this one day, Usha and I may have quietly and secretly willed it back in time.
Is resilient a metaphor for something to screw?
You may say what a strange ode to brew
For a city that's given love, friends, and wings to fly,
But where events ever-so-often can make you cry;
Be safe, flawed paradise, a giant kala tikka in my mind I just drew.
To retrace our old stomping grounds, Usha and I set off on foot today from Bombay VT. Before long, we stop at Kandils sidewalk stall for Ganga-Jamuna juice ("Bisleri nahi lagega boss" - only fresh squeeze, no water used).
On the Fort sidewalk, the eyes wander to see if pirated movies (and 'those' titles) are still being hawked.
("Good that you're with me, Appa always said avoid this stretch of sidewalk").
Continue walking and get into Rhythm House music store (just browsing, seldom buying). Further on, lost our way to that pen store in the Fountain area. Usha has a thing for ball point pens and I have bought her several from here in the past. Today, for old times' sake, it was an original Pilot pen (you know, off-white with a speck of blue on top).
More stomping towards Regal, and made a mental note to have the egg frankie another day. Then hop into a cab, already salivating about the special (its always the 'special') Pav Bhaji at Shiv Sagar in Churchgate. Occupied a 4-seater table and sitting, giggling, both on one side. ("Avoid the "soumf" (supaari) at the end - people tip coins into that steel tray and one can never tell how many times and where those coins have changed hands").
Lamenting the loss of pavement book stalls before cooling off with Roasted walnut icecream for Usha (at Naturals) and Icecream sandwich for me at K Rustoms ("I can count 15 restaurant code violations just sitting here":)).
Ambling on, hearing and soaking in snatches of Mumbai conversation. "Your dad gave you 20000 to buy an iPad mini, no?" Instead of who/ what/ why, stylishly adding a 'No' and ? at the end of sentences ... is that a hep South Bombay thing, college crowd thing or a Convent thing? Wouldn't our beautiful language be poorer for lack of such variations?
Walk by Marine Drive but then walk away all too soon, head pounded by the overbearing heat. Its then cold coffee with a dollop of vanilla ice-cream, like you can only find here! Awash in memories with every sip and spoon.
More sidewalk walking and clearly, that's not where the rest of Mumbai walks. We love to walk on the road just off the footpath, in the opposite direction of traffic. With hawkers and other encroachment, that's understandable. But what a world of experience we miss! Walking elsewhere in the city, saw a 'bhajiya' vendor teaching his young apprentice how to chop onion and cauliflower. Food Network style right on the pavements of my big and brash city!
Almost run into by a careless 2-wheeler and how instinctively I use my Bombayya gaali ("diktha nahi kya Kajhurr":)). Shocked at my brazenness, Usha & I then dissolved into peals of laughter. (In the meantime, soaking in Mumbai his own way, Aakash had been poring over an email of Bombayya Hindi slang sent by a relative. Hearing 'Ded shaana', 'Jhakaas' from an NRI kid's lips - does language get any more exotic?
Move to Oval Maidan to catch some maidan cricket (Mumbai has, and always will, evoke cricket first and foremost). Then lingering to see if the batsman will make a lofted shot or do the perfect pull.
Meeting friends who live here (among the birds in fairytale places - big towers - high above the city) and as I use the new freeways, it occurs to me that the Mumbai of old has moved on. Perhaps beyond measure.
But for today, for just this one day, Usha and I may have quietly and secretly willed it back in time.
Is resilient a metaphor for something to screw?
You may say what a strange ode to brew
For a city that's given love, friends, and wings to fly,
But where events ever-so-often can make you cry;
Be safe, flawed paradise, a giant kala tikka in my mind I just drew.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Thanks for stopping by, would love to hear from you here ...