Love Lost in Colaba Fog

A Blog begun years ago as a stroll on the Funny Side of Serious Street, highlighting India's problems. Revived by adding memories of old Bombay, including excerpts from Dreams of One Country.

LOVE LOST IN COLABA FOG 

(Old Bombay Scene: Excerpt 2 - From my novel Dreams of One Country)

On the last day of her leave Norman planned to talk of his feelings. Cy crossed over at the old Taj corner, looking cuddly in a fluffy white cardigan. ‘Let’s go by cab to Colaba Camp,’ she said. India’s taxi drivers decide if and where they go. Like other meek citizens he pleaded in vain with two. Cy commandeered a taxi with disdainful authority. They got off at R.C. Church. Dense fog ahead. On Defence cinema’s huge hoarding the Tamil hero, MGR, rode a prancing horse. Norman’s soliloquy trod neutral ground as he inched towards the big moment. He paused. ‘Anything wrong, Cy? You’re so quiet.’

‘Can’t you think of anything nice to say to me?’

‘Like what?’

‘I must tell you what to tell me?’ Cy wobbled away into the fog on platform shoes. 

‘Off the road!’ he screamed. A car swept by like a shadowy monster. He ran and pulled her under a peepul. Whiteness swirled around them. The sun was a luminous white disc. As his arms went around her, he heard a fluty sound. Two birds were hopping on a low branch. ‘Look, Cy! Beautiful! Golden orioles!’

‘I’m sure you prefer an oriole to me.’

Her charming glare thrummed his chordae tendinae. ‘Never! You’re my only bird.’

‘I’m not your bird, stupid!’

‘Ma’am!’ He raised a classroom hand. ‘Whose bird are you?’

She wasn’t amused. ‘Ra phoned from London. He said he would have taken me tonight to Talk of the Town. To hear the Indian pop star from Canada. You? Will you?’ 

‘Sorry.’ Suddenly it seemed a day to quarrel. ‘Too expensive. I can’t afford it.’

‘Dammit, I’ll pay. Money is all you think of.’ Cy stamped up dust.

‘Shit! I thought you gave up the high life.’

‘I’m going home.’

Cy sulked all the way back to the Causeway. Near Shalini’s Boutique she waded in to shoo off an aimless crowd pestering a party of Uzbeki women tourists - all wearing multihued gowns and scarves, all plump and uncommunistic in their happiness. One of them asked Norman - with signs and many smiles - to snap their group against a horse gharry or victoria, a relic of old Bombay. Atop the carriage sat another gray relic wearing khaki clothes and a fez. Norman almost dropped the Russian camera: it weighed a ton. Next the Uzbeki asked him and Cy to hold hands at the group’s centre. He warned Cy it would be documentary proof that they were once comrades-in-arms. The woman clicked. (And so, somewhere in the old Socialist Republic of Uzbekistan, there exists a picture of Cy and him - in colour and resplendent company.)

When they walked on, Cynthia’s comment about ‘their birthday party dresses’ tinkled in his mind. Me, moron! At least twice she had mentioned her birthday to him.

‘Sorry I forgot!’ He wished Cy and promised her a gift by evening. ‘Cy, please…’  

Too late. She hailed a taxi to go to a restaurant lunch with her parents.

*

Tail Lights

1. India Cinemascopic:
Check out Dreams of One Country on Amazon.com. If the novel's Revolutionary Theme - the March to a NewIndia - appeals to you, you can download it on any device: I phones, pads or computers. In the 21st Century story youth lead India's people to unite as Ek Desh (One Country), to strive together and build an enlightened and truly modern nation

First Date First Show

A Blog begun years ago as a stroll on the Funny Side of Serious Street, highlighting India's problems. Revived by adding memories of old Bombay, including excerpts from Dreams of One Country.

FIRST DATE FIRST SHOW

Excerpted episode from Dreams of One Country - 1

 (An old Bombay Scene)

Collegians packed the Sterling’s lobby. Norman waited, suspecting more deception. When Cy ran up the steps he heard in the caverns of his mind music akin to 20^th Century Fox’s triumphant trumpets announcing the Next Attraction. At this first outing he was a rank amateur. His arm muscles twitched at the lightest touch on the armrest. Distractions surrounded them. Paper bags popping to celebrate screen clinches. Wisecracks. And the love calls of a pair of human koels - the male’s rising “ku-oo, ku-ooo, ku-ooo” in a melancholic crescendo; the female replying “keeek-keeek-keeek” and breaking into a flirtatious shriek – had the student crowd in splits. In the foyer at the Interval Norman glared at louts ogling Cy with glutinous eyes. She had three meat patties in quick time. He ordered three more. Chimes invited them in. Irma la Douce began.

‘I doubt you’re getting your money’s worth,’ said Cy. She smiled into screen glow.

He was admiring her profile. ‘I am.’

‘Of the movie, yaar.’

‘In any case,’ he reminded her, ‘you spent for the tickets.’

‘Not me. My boss. Ra (for Rakesh). He had an unexpected board meeting. So I…’

So Norman shut up. In the taxi going back, his lips itched to kiss her. They stopped at her Cuffe Parade office. In a last chance gamble he clutched her arm. Cy – not too politely - withdrew her precious limb. They stepped out into a mellow January sun.

‘Bye, Norman,’ she said. ‘I think you’re funnier than Shirley Maclaine.’

‘Cynthia, wait! Will I see you at the Ecs (the restaurant where he was a crooner in the band) soon?’

‘That depends.’ She stepped away.

‘On what?’ he called out.

‘Your imagination.’ She ran past the glass doors, out of sight.

Cynthia Lawson left him quivering. Back to Ra, he grouched. Great executive god in his carpeted shrine!

*  

Tail Lights

India Cinemascopic

My novel Dreams of One Country - for download on I-phone, pad or computer from Amazon.com - is a moving panorama of young dreams and ideas inspiring India's people to come together as Ek Desh (One Country) and build a truly modern nation.

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Old Bombay Whizz Tour

 A Blog begun years ago as a stroll on the Funny Side of Serious Street, highlighting India's problems. Revived by adding memories of old Bombay, including excerpts from Dreams of One Country.


                                               
Old Bombay Whizz Tour

This homecoming to Funny Lines returns to the past. So many memories of old Bombay – like the cinemascope scenes of thousands of commuters crisscrossing the city in any contraption that moved on wheels to defy the All-India Railway Strike and the Ganpati spectacle on Chowpatty beach – are part of Dreams of One Country. As in life, my novel is funny in parts, sad in parts.

The story is purposeful. Taking off from a heart-hugging love story set in years-ago Bombay, it tracks the only way India can lift herself from 135th out of 185 countries in HDI (Human Development Index) rating and rise to join the world’s most developed led by Denmark, Norway, New Zealand, Singapore and the U.S. Denmark has never launched a space probe. Quietly, this north European country pursues her objective of using every resource to enhance the people’s quality of life. Denmark is one of the few countries that offer free quality healthcare and education (school and university) to all citizens.

1. India Illuminiscopic:
Check out Dreams of One Country on Amazon.com. If the novel's Revolutionary Theme - the March to a NewIndia - appeals to you, you can download it on any device: I phones, pads or computers. In the 21st Century story youth lead India's people to unite as Ek Desh (One Country), to strive together and build an enlightened and truly modern nation

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INDIA DISCOVERS IDEAL PASS-TIME

In a country where youngsters consider SMSing jokes to each other as a happy 'time-pass' and an elderly man meeting another often asks, 'How do you pass your time?' IPL cricket games are a sparkling innovation. Revelling crowds pack the stadia. And they get the works - music, fireworks, imported cheerleaders - to accompany games that have none of the state, country or club relevance that could raise passions. At least a quarter of the crowd comes from slums, eager for 'time-pass' even if they have to forego a day's meals for the family to buy a ticket.

Of course, the happiest of all are those raking in the big moolah - the organizers, the advertisers, the team franchisees and the TV stations which broadcast the Ideal Pass-time League games.

Incredible India? You said it!!!
For more India Realities stories see other blogs here and at www.myspace.com/india_realities (i.e. india underscore realities).

What Indians don't seem to be learning? Can they?

What Indians don't seem to be learning is that cars, mobiles, IT companies and malls don't make a successful, civilized country. More important is whether they can smile at each other, keep the streets clear of garbage and...YES!...honour queues. Will they ever learn?
(For more INDIA INSIGHT stories see other blogs here and at www.myspace.com/india_realities i.e. india underscore realities) My latest blog at Myspace is: Many GREAT WALLS divide today's India.

He said: 'Any fool can blog! Any fool cn twitter!'

My friend, a great reader, read my last INSIGHT blog and said with a bored yawn: 'Not bad. But I'm sick of the whole business. Any fool can blog! Any fool can twitter! Blogging has made almost everyone a writer. And most of them seem to be trying to turn the English language into bird droppings, piles of it, enough to build huge islands of guano on the oceans of the internet.'

Well! Not a bad turn of phrase. I could only smile back at him. After all he was a good long-time friend. And a great reader. And he had never dropped a single drop of anything on the oceans of the internet! I said: 'Look, they're not trying to produce literature. But surely bloggers are strengthening the idea of freedom of speech around the world.'
(For INDIA INSIGHT stories see other blogs here and www.myspace.com/india_realities i.e. india underscore realities) My latest at Myspace is: Many GREAT WALLS divide today's India.

A LOT OF MICE HIDING IN RISING INDIA

A Top Priority Business in India is Showing-off. Yes! That's the honest truth. And it has always been so. Those who have flaunt before those who don't have, without a heart or conscience. Even religious celebrations are proof of that compulsive desire. Now, of course, in globalizing India there are far more opportunities to flaunt - foreign brands, flashy clothes, bikes, cars and more. More people have more money.

But there are a lot more people who have nothing to flaunt. They are the mice - trying to manage, trying to survive. They may get a mobile and walk around talking into it. They're trying to compete. But often they the end up trying to hide their miceness, trying to go as unnoticed as possible.

In India's commercial capital, in the last two weeks alone, there were about 16 suicides of school or college kids. The media are coming up with all kinds of explanations. Surely, there would be multiple reasons. But none of the media - many of them are also busy flaunting - have mentioned the miceness in rising India, the growing numbers of mice who can't compete in the intense business of showing off.
(For more INSIGHT stories, see other blogs here and at www.myspace.com/india_realities i.e. india underscore realities.) My latest blog on Myspace is: THE FASTEST GROWING BUSINESS IN INDIA IS SHOWING-OFF.