90-day itch

We complete 90-days in our Mumbai apartment today. While we are still "breaking-in" and before one becomes a full-fledged turncoat, I cant help reminisce about some of the stuff we really miss about Delhi.

Late night drives have been the first casualty. First attempt was the Mount Mary- Bandstand-Carter Road circuit. I lost count but I think we had a near-miss with 4 pavement dwellers and about half a dozen night birds who in their craving for ice-cream, kulfi and the like seemed to mindlessly cross roads with little or no regard for oncoming traffic. The following week we embarked on the "real deal" i.e. Haji-Ali-Marine Drive etc. 4th gear was a luxury as one had to indulge in peak hour concentration since traffic was near bumper to bumper (at 1 a.m.if you please). Give me the Safdarjang Road-Krishna Menon Marg-Akbar Road-Rajpath combination any day. The luxury of a leisurely drive amidst the pretty boulevards with colonial bungalows lining the wide roads (and scores of stately monuments thrown in) is unmatched.

The search for good quality, non 5-star Indian Food has proved endless and horribly futile. It was best summed up by the experience of a friend who asked for Indian options in South Mumbai and ended up in the same restaurant for the 5th sraight time since it was the only option given to him by everyone he checked with each time! I am also struggling with the logic of landing up in fine-dining places in shorts but more on that another day. There has been a positive fallout on the health front though. Like a true East Indian, sunday lunches were always meant to be rice and mutton curry. I now seldom consume red-meat given the bony, lifeless meat on sale in most shops here. Again we did the round of recommended shops all across town before deciding that mutton consumption shall be restricted to Delhi trips (where one is spoilt with succulent meat with a wide option of cuts). Curiously, shops in Mumbai find fame not basis quality of goods/service/ambience but on the parameter of most famous customer. So one is typically directed to "Katrina Kaif's florist" or " Saif Ali Khan's mechanic".

A reluctant mall-goer like Yours Truly was successfully persuaded to drive to one of the fancier malls in town a few weeks ago. My spirited dash to the mall was literally stopped in its tracks with a delayed realisation that I had actually missed a mile-long queue of cars waiting to enter! I was certain my "DL" number plate prompted a slew of curses centring around the Capital as I insisted on nonchalantly jumping the queue. But the saga of queues had only just begun and its unlikely I am returning in a hurry. A subsequent weekend trip to Delhi made the Vasant Kunj malls (that I once scorned) feel like the ultimate in luxury.

There are scores of similarities too. If you thought only delhi-ites could call "Kamla Nagar" as "K-Nags", Mumbaikars are not be left behind. Hence, "South Bombay" is "So-Bo", in fact to the point of being cliched now. And while I reside in an apartment complex that is far from being upscale, I own the smallest car in the parking lot. So much for dilli-wallas being the "big-car showoffs".

Waste of time in Mumbai

The Mafia they say was born in a Port. Having grown up in one, I therefore harbour an irrationally unhealthy keenness in the underworld. (my bookshelf provides damning evidence). My subject-matter interest coupled with a recent vow to watch more than my standard average of 4 movies a year had me book tickets for "Once Upon a Time in Mumbaai". My first mistake was to dismiss the discouraging newspaper review as the handiwork of an ill-equipped journalist. I went on to ignore a bad omen. It was only the 23rd auto-rickshaw we hailed that reluctantly agreed to ferry us to the cinema. (I am now enlightened with the information that auto-drivers need significant financial incentives to make the journey from Bandra West to Bandra East).

At the end of a damp first half which just about managed to give a loose sketch of the principal characters, I braced for the real drama to commence. An hour later, a few exciting events occurred which convinced me the turning point was (for lack of a better phrase) round the corner. To my amazement, the lights came on and the movie had ended! I sprang in my seat, shocked at the complete absence of a meaningful plot whatsoever.

Word-of-mouth had over-ridden the newspaper review. I was assured of a "riveting" performance by Ajay Devgan (sorry "Devgn"). He might have well been mouthing those corny one-liners into a mirror given the absolute lack of context. It was amusing to see an Emran Hashmi copy Devgn's theatrical demeanour and then a confused Randeep Hooda alternately ape both of them. The movie is meant to have been set in the 70s with the only visible throwback to that decade being the cliched automobiles. Even the whisky being poured seemed to be "Grants" as opposed to Vat 69, the quintessential favourite of that generation, at least in the movies.

I have to conclude by conceding that the seats in Cinemax- Bandra (EAST I hasten to reiterate) are by far the most comfortable and luxurious that I have ever occupied in my limited exposure to Cinemas across the country. I just wish it was located in Bhubaneswar, in which case I would have had access to far more interesting beverages than Coke to cope with this eminently forgettable movie. As regards those whose "word of mouth" I relied on to brave the irritating rains to make the rare journey to a Cinema, guess I now know who my real friends are.

The True American Spirit

Attached link leads to an article I wrote recently on Bourbon. Was published in the last issue of India Today Spice.

http://indiatoday.intoday.in/site/Story/106167/the-true-american-spirit.html?page=0

Cheers