Apropos Mr. Nana Chudasama’s I Love Mumbai… (November 23, 1990)

  
Apropos Mr. Nana Chudasama’s I Love Mumbai show, I have this to say: I love Bombay, but I am not quite sure if I love Mumbai.I love Bombay where the roads were washed every morning, street by street, and swept twice a day; where trams tolled along the length and breadth of the city and you could travel from Sassoon Dock to King’s Circle for an anna (Six Paise); where postmen tied putees round their legs and bus conductors punched tickets on a toll and often presented the empty tolls to children; where Air-India was owned by the Tatas and the leader of the textile workers was Comrade Dange; where people kept Dalmatians and Golden Retrivers and took them for walks at a building-less Cuffe Parade; where evey street corner was an Irani restaurant and you could beek your Sunday 6.30 cinema ticket on the telephone; where on a monthly salary of Rs.125 you could live like a king (well, perhaps, not like a king, but like a lord).

I don’t like Mumbai where the city has expanded into housing board tenements and hutment colonies and where you have to buy flats and not rent them; where ragged children and pie dogs scavenge among the garbage; where victories are banned from most roads taxi drivers take you only to destinations of their choices; where a little pedestrian subway across the road takes loner construct than three tunnels in the sea-bed joining England with France; where paintings are not sold but auctioned and where art galleries hold sales of ladies’ kaftans; where the conservancy staff is either on strike or not working; where the old Bornby Road has been turned into a bazar of fake imported goods.

I love Bonbay where you could buy a secondhand paperback for four annas (25 paise) and a new one for Rs. 1.50; where the suburns started at Worli and Bandra was a green Goan vilage; where the only Arabs in town were Arab horses at Mahalaxmi and Jimmy Bharucha used to give riding lessons in the Oval; where one stadium was enough to play cricket and the Taj was the only five-star hotel; where there were no barbed wires around the Gateway and police officers looked like police officers and not pot-bellied businessmen in khaki; where if you wanted an evening’s drive you got into the ‘C’ route at R.C. Church and rode along Marnie Drive to Tardeo and back.

I don’t much care for Mumbai where one-third on strike and one-third on work to rule; where if you want to take the family out of town in the summer you have to book seats in the train the winter before; where the dominant smell is that of urine and you have to go through a train-load of commuters to find one smiling face.

Of course, I may be totally wrong. Perhaps, there I no difference between the Bombay where S.K. Patil was the mayor and Frank Moraes the sheriff, and the Mumbai where Chhagan Bhujbal is the mayor and Nana Chudasama the sheriff

Posted in Main. 1 Comment »

One Response to “Apropos Mr. Nana Chudasama’s I Love Mumbai… (November 23, 1990)”

  1. shivam sharma Says:

    dats true


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