Last to last week I caught a Bombay Belly Bug. Something about Andheri East and my gut, just doesn’t well. 6 years ago one nice spicy biryani from Sarovar put me out of action for 3 weeks. This time I blame the passport office. Unlike most passport holders I only use it for address verification at home, as opposed to its real purpose to get away from one.
New passport in hand and an ultra sensitive digestive tract in hand I ventured to some books and crannies of Bombay nevertheless. Here are all the oddities that I now share as postcards as a true daak man should.
My friend Dara would always have this spolier ready if someone asked him about a movie he hadn’t seen
It is easily a decade and a half since I last went to a Moshe’s. I saw this light pastel greyish place in a shade of burgundy still.
“Why did you buy this one?” I don't know, I thought I can learn how to take good photos after reading it. “What does Autorretratos mean?” Don't know, check no. “It is Spanish for self portraits.” Oh. Shit.
“Why have they started giving nurseries fancy names like some rich kid? What does Vrishka even mean?” I think it is Vriksha like tree. “Oh. Fuck.”
“Birds add to composition.” Yeah not when it is bad.
(One did circle back to check)
Portrait by Irwing Ramsey Wiles of the most exquisitely named Kathryn Beta La Forque
Who paints the sky will walk on clouds - Stefano Bosis
There was a time, after my last visit to Moshes that the only good place to get a nice waffle in Bombay was to visit Kala Ghoda Cafe
The Parsi dadi of the Dadar Parsis though animatedly alive on her phone call had her eyes dead set on me. I sensed a massive interrogation and so sneaked behind a tree. It is 2024, trees still grow through crusty pavements.
