The four of us, minus the honorary members of the gang, hopped on to a cab (there r no ricks in this part of the Mumbai, there’s a theory doing the rounds that the big shots in this place don’t like to c ricks on the road , not sure how much truth is there in this ) n the lazy bum said to the driver in his mallu accented hindi “ bhaiyya, gateway jaana hai”.
Though it was well past the sunset, we hoped to see the ‘quintessential gateway picture/video’ of the hundreds of pigeons – some perching, some abt to fly - live before our eyes. Unfortunately it remained a picture as the pigeons chose to remain away from the thousands of staring human eyes, but we hope sometime during the next two months, we will b able to enjoy the view. After all, hope n trust r two things we have to believe in.
The Gateway of India, which was built to welcome a queen ( I don’t remember the name), didn’t stand in its almighty glory that day, for half of it was being operated upon to treat the wounds inflicted upon it during the passage of time. It used to be the first structure u c when u come to Mumbai on ship. The boat ride on offer was a perfect invitation for us to get away from the maddening yet interesting crowd we encountered for the past few days n we were in no mood to resist it. We climbed up the almost-vertical-n-bloody-narrow-stairs, n staggering n swaying in tune with the rocking steamer, looked for a place to settle down. Being the gentlemen we were, the three of us sat on some not-so-bad-bum-placable-seats allowing the Seemingly Sane girl to occupy the last free chair on the roof. As the boat sped away, we turned back to get an alternate view of the Gateway. We realised that Gateway was not the sight to behold, rather it was dwarfed by the beautifully lit up old Taj n the new Taj standing alongside each other. Lazy bum was giving some needless bullshit to others about Elephanta suite, a room in Taj, when it happened - CRAAASSSSHHHH!!!!! WREEEECCCCKKKK!!!!
For a moment we thought we had crashed into an (tip of) iceberg. Not so happy scenes from the movie Titanic played out in the minds of the people. The singers in the boat tried to form a band so that they cold sing the requiem. The lovers believed that their story would become the next biggest Hollywood blockbuster. The calm n smiling Budha lost his calmness for a split-second. The Don wanted to take that last photograph which would be worth millions when the scuba divers find it amidst the last remains of the capsized boat. The lazy bum was thinking about the eventful post he would write in his blog if he ever got out of it alive. The seemingly sane girl started to act insanely, even posing for a couple of photos with her specs on!!!
Then realization set in. The boat was not going to capsize. It had not hit any iceberg. We had just been involved in one of the weirdest possible accidents. Wasn’t it ironical that after travelling in the crowded local trains, travelling with the crazy taxi drivers, the first ( n hopefully only) accident we were involved was a steamer colliding with another steamer in the middle of nowhere, where the “traffic” was almost negligible !!!!
The rest of the boat ride was spent debating on where the opening to the sea was, recalling the good old days when we used to read Enid Blyton’s, Hardy boys etc (The sight of a buoy reminded urs truly of one of the Hardy boys’ in which Joe Hardy clings on to a buoy to pull off a miraculous escape).
As we were walking along the promenade, contemplating where to fill our stomachs n with what, Smiling Budha lost all his calmness n started screaming out animatedly “Wat is out there? Is it a dance, is it a bar, no…..it’s a dance bar!!! “N for a moment we wondered if it was true indeed. In the distance we could hear music being played n could catch a distant n not so clear glimpse of women dancing to the tunes of some latest Bollywood hits . Then sanity was restored. It’s not possible to have a dance bar a t such a conspicuous n noticeable place. Still curiosity persisted….Thoughts like “What if”, “Maybe” were floating in the minds…. Finally all doubts were laid to rest when the smiling Buddha n the lazy bum asked the people concerned what it was all about. A Sindhi festival was on in full swing.
As the “Smell of Mumbai” started “titillating” our senses more and more, we knew it was time to call it a day. Moreover, it was time for the Seemingly Sane Girl to get back into the Wilson prison.
Though it was well past the sunset, we hoped to see the ‘quintessential gateway picture/video’ of the hundreds of pigeons – some perching, some abt to fly - live before our eyes. Unfortunately it remained a picture as the pigeons chose to remain away from the thousands of staring human eyes, but we hope sometime during the next two months, we will b able to enjoy the view. After all, hope n trust r two things we have to believe in.
The Gateway of India, which was built to welcome a queen ( I don’t remember the name), didn’t stand in its almighty glory that day, for half of it was being operated upon to treat the wounds inflicted upon it during the passage of time. It used to be the first structure u c when u come to Mumbai on ship. The boat ride on offer was a perfect invitation for us to get away from the maddening yet interesting crowd we encountered for the past few days n we were in no mood to resist it. We climbed up the almost-vertical-n-bloody-narrow-stairs, n staggering n swaying in tune with the rocking steamer, looked for a place to settle down. Being the gentlemen we were, the three of us sat on some not-so-bad-bum-placable-seats allowing the Seemingly Sane girl to occupy the last free chair on the roof. As the boat sped away, we turned back to get an alternate view of the Gateway. We realised that Gateway was not the sight to behold, rather it was dwarfed by the beautifully lit up old Taj n the new Taj standing alongside each other. Lazy bum was giving some needless bullshit to others about Elephanta suite, a room in Taj, when it happened - CRAAASSSSHHHH!!!!! WREEEECCCCKKKK!!!!
For a moment we thought we had crashed into an (tip of) iceberg. Not so happy scenes from the movie Titanic played out in the minds of the people. The singers in the boat tried to form a band so that they cold sing the requiem. The lovers believed that their story would become the next biggest Hollywood blockbuster. The calm n smiling Budha lost his calmness for a split-second. The Don wanted to take that last photograph which would be worth millions when the scuba divers find it amidst the last remains of the capsized boat. The lazy bum was thinking about the eventful post he would write in his blog if he ever got out of it alive. The seemingly sane girl started to act insanely, even posing for a couple of photos with her specs on!!!
Then realization set in. The boat was not going to capsize. It had not hit any iceberg. We had just been involved in one of the weirdest possible accidents. Wasn’t it ironical that after travelling in the crowded local trains, travelling with the crazy taxi drivers, the first ( n hopefully only) accident we were involved was a steamer colliding with another steamer in the middle of nowhere, where the “traffic” was almost negligible !!!!
The rest of the boat ride was spent debating on where the opening to the sea was, recalling the good old days when we used to read Enid Blyton’s, Hardy boys etc (The sight of a buoy reminded urs truly of one of the Hardy boys’ in which Joe Hardy clings on to a buoy to pull off a miraculous escape).
As we were walking along the promenade, contemplating where to fill our stomachs n with what, Smiling Budha lost all his calmness n started screaming out animatedly “Wat is out there? Is it a dance, is it a bar, no…..it’s a dance bar!!! “N for a moment we wondered if it was true indeed. In the distance we could hear music being played n could catch a distant n not so clear glimpse of women dancing to the tunes of some latest Bollywood hits . Then sanity was restored. It’s not possible to have a dance bar a t such a conspicuous n noticeable place. Still curiosity persisted….Thoughts like “What if”, “Maybe” were floating in the minds…. Finally all doubts were laid to rest when the smiling Buddha n the lazy bum asked the people concerned what it was all about. A Sindhi festival was on in full swing.
As the “Smell of Mumbai” started “titillating” our senses more and more, we knew it was time to call it a day. Moreover, it was time for the Seemingly Sane Girl to get back into the Wilson prison.
No comments:
Post a Comment