Living on Bandstand

I just realized that though I’ve written about Bombay as a whole, I haven’t really written about Bandra, where I stay- or Bandstand, the neighbourhood in Bandra where my building is located.

So here’s a more localized post; about the stretch of sea-face that I call my neighbourhood. Bandstand is one of the most posh areas in Bandra, the closest suburb to Bombay. One realizes that they have crossed Bombay and entered Bandra when the main roads become narrower, the gullies increase in number and taxis give way to auto rickshaws. A peculiarity of Bombay is that taxis ply in the main city (commonly referred to as “Town”) and rickshaws in the ‘burbs. Rickshaws aren’t allowed in Town, though taxis may cross into the suburbs.
Bandstand is a strip of land by the sea, thus a rather coveted piece of real estate. It has a lovely promenade, where rich housewives, portly Gujju men, and young couples find themselves enjoying the sea breeze every evening. It also boasts of Salman Khan, Rekha and Shahrukh Khan’s houses. The fact that Bandstand is 10 minutes away from the happening area of Pali doesn’t hurt either. The only time the place is anything but lovely is when one of these film stars leave their houses. Then chaos reigns. Shouting strapping men, squealing pretty young things, and gossipy aunties run, hop and jog along the promenade, or simply cluster around the actor’s house, hoping for a sighting.

Apart from this, the area is a delight, made more so by the fact that Bombay as a whole is a bit of a mess. The strip of promenade, where one can walk while enjoying a view of the sea is gorgeous. It is also kept incredibly clean by vigilant guards who take the rules of no eating or smoking there very seriously. The bhel puri stalls, nariyal-waalas, mobile cigarette shops, coffee-cum-cigarette-waalas, peanut vendors and bhutta-waalas complete the experience of an evening at Bandstand. The coffee bar stalwarts; Café Coffee Day and Barista have claimed their tiny but superb locations on the other side of the road; ironically so close together that they share a wall. I have become quite a regular at Barista here, realizing the advantage and pleasure of working on my laptop with the sea and a caramel latte for company.

I just got plain lucky when I found a house here. Yes, I’m paying through my nose, but when I wake up and look out of my window to see the fishing boats docked in their yard of calm blue waters early in the morning, it’s worth it. When I take a deep breath and smell the salt in the air, it’s worth it. When my AC conks off and I open my French windows to realize I don’t need an AC, it’s worth it. And when the winds are blowing the wrong way causing people to reel under the stench of fish- and I know nothing of the pungent smells because of my 9th floor apartment, it’s worth it.

I’m just going to cross my fingers and hope my cranky landlady renews my lease!

….Rings on her Fingers, Bells on her toes; She shall have music wherever she goes...

A friend recently sang this to me, saying this was how he thought of me, what encapsulated my personality the way he knew it. I must admit, I was pretty flattered at the compliment. It’s good to know people feel you spread sunshine in your wake. It’s a great thing to do for someone, and have done for you. His opinion was also that I had wings on my feet, but he couldn’t find a way to fit that in what with the rings and bells and music claiming precedence.
I most strongly identify with the “wings on my feet” bit though. Every so often I feel an itch in my toes, which means its time to be off again. Time to leave the city I’m in and find a new one to explore. Time to find new experiences to soak in, new people to meet and new things to see and do. This is sometimes a great handicap, because, lets face it- travelling requires money and time. Which means it leaves less time and money for other things.
I’m in Bombay right now, beginning to feel that itch again. Where shall I head off to next? Maybe the mountains? The mountains always give me solace and peace; they help me figure my head out. And frankly, I feel like I’ve had the best of Bombay. I’ve taken in most of the good the city has to offer, had a taste of the bad as well; but from hereon, there will be few new experiences and earth-shattering revelations. I’ve explored the people my Bombay Friends (as I like to refer to them) are, scraped the surfaces, seen the real stuff, liked and hated it alternatively, but never tired of it. Because I knew there was more. Now, however, new tastes are few and far between.

Oh hell, it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter where I go, or what I do, as long as I remember to keep the rings and bells on. As long as I have music wherever I go. As long as I know how to make my own music where there is none.