2 Weeks in South Bombay

There is something oddly beautiful about South Bombay. A sense of history, even though it’s far more recent than say, Delhi. I especially like Fort. All the buildings look old, are old. There are vast multitudes walking in the streets, every one rushing to work. It is also confusing, getting from one part to another means getting past a number of streets , most of them named after Parsis. Till now, I’ve seen the name of every famous Parsi person I know(not living) except Maneckshaw. And many I’ve never heard of. Even a gali which is barely 100 m long has its own name. The variety of food available within five minute’s walk of my office is mind-boggling. A quaint Irani cafe. Dosa places selling kinds of dosa I’ve never heard of in Bangalore. Seafood. Vada Pao, Samosa Pao, Misal Pao and Cutting Chai. The Sandwich, nothing like I’ve tasted before. It feels odd asking for Pani Puri and not Gol Gappe. Three different Parsi restaurants. Kababs, and generic Veg restaurants which sell everything from Pao Bhaji to Puri Bhaji. One side out of Fort is Kala Ghoda. The Jehangir Art Gallery, and everything around it. The museum. Walk a little. Flora Fountain, or Hutathma Chowk. Doesn’t the marble fountain with angels, made in 1869 look better than the monument dedicated to the leaders of the Samyukta Maharashtra movement with its divisive message ‘Jai Maharashtra’? I bought an old book there, for very cheap. 

Very close is Churchgate, for local train travel. Otherwise, if you take the subway, there is Eros Cinema on the other side. Not very far is the Oxford India Bookstore. Sometimes I drank tea, sometimes coffee, and read half a book without buying it.

My fourth day in Bombay, I still haven’t seen the sea. As I get out of office, I decide to walk. Fifteen minutes later, I’m at the Gateway of India. Police don’t check my bag. The Taj Mahal Hotel is just beautifully lit up. I see Colaba Causeway on the way. I go see Leopold, imagining it in the 70s. My Shantaram moment done, I know it’s too expensive for me right now. We walk behind the Hotel, see the cars, the buildings, and the odd mix of people. 

One day, my non-drinker friend sees a place and says, ‘Hey, that looks like a nice place for a beer’. I tell him he has good taste, but we can’t, it’s the Bombay Gymkhana. Every day I get out of Marine Lines, Azad Maidan on my left, and take the cab. My cabbie returns change when I pay him 20 bucks, without asking for it. I figure out, Cabs cost less here than autos in Bengalewdu. What a city!

However I sweat, more and more. But I drink Sugarcane juice, and feel refreshed. One night we go to Marine Drive. I’ve seen it on TV, and don’t really expect much. It is unexpectedly spectacular. The number of people out late, the lights. And finally, the breeze. On Sunday, we go to Hajji Ali. Dirty, insanely crowded. No spiritual feelings awakened. Chowpatty, then Marine Drive Again. NCPA Apartments look like nice place to stay. Find out they’re the most expensive apartments in the country. Ah, well.

Finally, back at the Gateway. On Sunday, it’s so crowded, we think of coming back later. There’s a line. People formed it, by themselves, voluntarily. What a city.