Quintessential Mumbai

Wasim had donned the hat of a tour guide. Ketan, Vatsala and I formed a beeline behind him, as he navigated us through a busy Mohammad Ali road. The Ramzan month had already begun and this plan had been a couple of days in the making.

The possibility of having to walk through a packed road did not deter us from going. We marched forth with the promise of every kind of meat and mouth-watering sweets.

I typically become a pile of mush by the time my work day winds up. This, coupled with the fact that I am a homebody always gets in the way of potential socialising and going out for nights on town. If staying in bed and watching Netflix or reading books was a real paying job, I would probably be the President of that company.

But on this particular Friday, I decided to do something completely out of character. When Vatsala proposed that I join them for a dinner plan at Mohammad Ali road, I agreed to go out with five people that can best be described as work acquaintances — Ketan, Wasim, Vatsala, Sarvajeet and Deepak.

We started our journey with tea — as one does for good tidings! A train ride and a small walk later, there it was in all its crowded, fragrant glory — Mohammad Ali road. As we reached the restaurant we had planned on eating at, we waited behind chairs, making faces at people who were eating and trying to hold back our drooling.

People were busy clicking pictures as they waited for their turn to sit down and have food and a news camera crew was taking shots of people foodgasming at the famous khau gali. As I stood there watching a throng of people immersed in the joy of food, I felt like it was the first time I was visiting Mumbai.

I was completely transfixed with the atmosphere and drifted off in my own thoughts. I realised that it had taken me 28 years to go to Mohammad Ali road. This, despite the fact that I worked about 20 minutes away from there for more than 2 years.

Moments like these make me feel like a tourist in my own city. And I am sure it isn’t just me! We all take Mumbai for granted most days — abysmal yet expensive living conditions, busy pace of the city that will send you in a tizzy, the restlessness that will tire you mentally rather than physically.

I used to love sitting on marine drive with my friends after midnight, talking about the most nonsencial things, meeting the most adorable dogs out for their daily walk, sipping on a tiny cup of tea, just staring at the sea and bursting into bouts of laughter over inconsequential subjects. Marine drive is where the afterparty was for all of us and we all still think of Marine drive fondly as do many Mumbaikars.

We don’t really realise the beauty of Mumbai except on two occasions — when you travel to another city or something really ‘Mumbai’ happens to you. Well, both these things happened to me within a span of just four weeks.

A couple of weeks ago I travelled to Pune to attend a cousin’s wedding. I have been to Pune on several ocassions, but have always found myself heaving a sigh of relief as soon as I start my trip back home.

There is nothing wrong with Pune really, aside from the fact that it is not Mumbai. It has no marine drive, no gorgeous steps leading to the Town Hall, no alien languages, no Leopold Cafe, no Bade Miyan, no Crawford market, no Colaba Causeway…well you get the drift.

If you’re a Mumbaikar, diversity is a part of your every day life. Imagine walking down the road and only hearing Marathi instead of a medley of gujarati, tamil, malayali, bengali and so many more languages.

The incessant Marathi was bothering my ears, making me acutely aware that I was not in Mumbai. Don’t get me wrong, Pune has several great things. The weather, for example. Mumbai loses hands down when it comes to weather. Even in the burning summer, it was pretty pleasant indoors in Pune. It has the perfect mix of chaotic traffic, rude Maharashtrians (just like I like them) and a rich Marathi history. But, it is not Mumbai!

And it’s not just Pune that is disappointing to me; I have travelled to Ahmedabad, Delhi, Bangalore in the past few years and going to all these places only reminded me of how much I love Mumbai. I will be travelling to Delhi this week, a city I disdain with all my being and I am certain this trip will do nothing to change that perception.

Perhaps, the only real reason I love Mumbai is because it’s home and nothing can match upto your home!

While I was drowned in my thoughts, staring at people in a mildly creepy manner and having my ‘Mumbai moment’, Vatsala jarred me back to the present with her excitable chatter about bheja fry, nalli nihari and seekh kebabs. Soon enough our tiny table was filled with an assortment of meat — meat I have never seen before, let alone eaten. I was so blown away by bheja fry, I barely had enough appetite for the rest of the delicacies sitting on our table.

We were in no position to walk, but sweets were yet to be conquered. Firni and Mawa jalebi awaited us as we walked through a crowd. Never as an adult person have I ever been scared of getting lost. If you are an anxiety-ridden person, you know very well that even the thought of being separated from your friends in a crowded street can be daunting. We formed a train to ensure that we don’t lose track of eachother and finally reached a lavish-looking restaurant that sells only sweets.

While we were enjoying the firni, a good samaritan was blaring over the microphone, warning the food enthusiasts of pickpockets. He was also assisting women walk through the roads which were hijacked by motorists and bikers. No amount of laughter would make for a good response to his incessant calls for precaution.

There is something special about laughing with no abandon with a group of people you barely know. I don’t particularly recall all the tidbits and funny incidents that happened on that night, but I do remember being completely recharged and happy.

If you are anything like me and believe that one can’t make new friends after 25 years, you will recognise what an amazing feat this was for me. While the night ended, our merriment still continues in the office. Wasim and Deepak feel more familiar now, Vatsala and Ketan have become good friends and I am starting to get worried about Sarvajeet because I haven’t seen him since we said goodbye at CST station.