India, shining, rising and ever colourful. The travel guides gush about the vivid colors everywhere (hmm, actually, so does every book on India ever, no?)
Of course, it’s true. We do colourful very well here. We sometimes leave vivid way, way behind and move into the territory of garish and outlandish with some dexterity.
Anyway, this is the inside of a teensy tailoring shop that is owned by a lower middle class sharp-talking, tobacco-chewing lady who employs three ‘masterjis’ to do the actual tailoring. At the outer edge of this tumble of color and texture you can see one hunched over an old-timey sewing machine.
I’ve lived in many cities now and one reason Delhi didn’t work for me was that it’s too landlocked. Boston, Bombay, New York…give me water! When I feel restless, here in Mumbai, I can’t jump on a bike and go off for a ride (there are no sidewalks to even walk or run on) so these days I slip off towards the sea. And then I can see the sweep of the bay – punctuated by fairy lights and the vast futility of man wrestling with nature. Or something like that 😉
I hadn’t been to Juhu Chowpatty (or Jubeach as we called it when we were little) in perhaps two decades – until we were super early for a film a few weeks ago. We decided to kill some time and eat some junk food at the beach. On the way in, I could see small things dotting the skyline – and to my horror found they were not kites, but balloon alien monkeys. They remind me of a movie, but I can’t recall which. Flying monkeys … The Wizard of Oz?
(p.s. did you know chowpatty simply means ‘beach’ in Marathi?)
I’m such a gavaar, I did not know that the Triveni Kala Sangam (~ arts center) in our capital city has a lovely garden cafe. I was quite pleased that someone in community radio suggested meeting here one spring afternoon. Ironically, we were seated right beside this sign and it totally tickled me. Apparently art and work are mutually exclusive. And maybe meetings, they think, kill – just like cigarettes do. It’s a distinct possibility, no? ;D
(In case it’s not clear enough to read, the sign says: “Right of entry reserved. SMOKING or MEETINGS Not Permitted”)
I am back in a neck brace. And I didn’t fall down the stairs this time. Let’s say it’s a combination of bad computer posture, too much computer time and a PT-teacher-turned -drill-sargeant- turned-yoga-instructor who pressed a stressed shoulder a bit too hard. Anyway, this is what I feel like. (Yes, yes, I’m in full drama queen mode. Also known as iWithdrawal.)
In the picture is Rajinderji, Man Friday at Breakthrough, who tracked down the funny smell in the second room –> pigeon fledglings amidst feathers and droppings inside the AC! And bravely caught them and relocated them. Outside. Sigh.
(Oh and for those of you feeling bad for me: continue to do so, please. Though I’ve read more books in 5 days than I have in as many months and seen more movies than I can keep track of, I’m in PAIN! and work is piling up. And I’m too OCD to deal with this much longer!!!)