Miss Adventures

It has been almost nine months since I left India and last posted on the blog. (You’ll also notice I moved cyber addresses - from http://tblogs.bootsnall.com/miss to here.)

I was ready to leave India last April, but now I look back on that chaos quite fondly. Indeed, I was also fond of today’s holiday - Republic Day - mostly because it falls in late January, one of the most pleasant times weather-wise to be in India, and especially Bombay. Oh to feel those tepid “winter” breezes coming off of Chowpatty Beach!

So, as I was reflecting on my time in India, I decided to upload some of my best India photos on Flickr. These pics are by no means my whole collection of India photos; but, I will certainly be uploading more to this album in the coming weeks.

Enjoy!

I apologize for the long silence. In fact, not much has been happening around here. Well, not much except bird flu, temple attacks, and presidential visits. At this point, nearly two years later, India and Bombay have almost become everyday for me. And, sad as it may seem, there comes a time when you become used to (desensitized to?) chaotic driving, street urchins, milk deliverymen on bicycles, unnavigable, paan juice stained sidewalks, piles of burning trash, incense, crowds, poverty, nouveau riche techies, and holy cows. It’s almost time to move on.

That said, I occasionally see things here that I wouldn’t see anywhere else. Take a look at the photo above, taken by a friend of a friend. That’s an actual billboard (called a “hoarding” here) with statistics that aren’t too far-fetched. I don’t know why the designers of the sign used a coffee cup, but there you go.

By the way, as I seem to have run out of words about India, I may start posting some fun photos on occasion. If I put up several at a time, they may even amount to a feature-length article. Figuratively, that is…

Senator John Kerry came to India recently to discuss, among other things, his opinions on outsourcing. During the U.S. elections of 2004, Indians (or at least the Indian media) never quite warmed to Kerry, so I suppose this was a chance for him to go on a goodwill tour and to see outsourcing at its, well, source.

Of course, outsourcing is a very sore subject in the U.S. and its impact has unfortunatley turned some Americans against South Asians. Its short-term effect has meant that many Americans have lost their jobs to workers in India that can do their jobs, if not more efficiently, then more economically. I even have an Indian-American friend whose relative lost her job to an Indian in India!

After being in India for a while, however, I can’t help but be a little touchy when discussing outsourcing with my compatriots at home. The people that I have met here that work at BPOs (Business Process Outsourcing companies) are some of the most diligent, hardworking people. And they aren’t just involved in the telemarketing fields. BPOs such as Wipro, Tata Consultancy Services, e-Serve, and Datamatics have stretched their tentacles to cover industries like IT, banking, finance, government, and entertainment. In fact, outsourcing is involved in almost every industry I can think of (which is even more than the average American can think of), so it isn’t going away anytime soon.
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Bombay is one of the most progressive cities in India. For most intents and purposes, both the New York and L.A. of India.

It is also the capital of of Maharashtra, a state that is proving to be more backward which each report of a book ban. On Monday, the Maharashtra government banned a scholarly book by James W. Laine on the life of Shivaji entitled, The Epic of Shivaji. The government had previously banned Laine’s other book, Shivaji: The Hindu King in Islamic India, in January 2004. The latter title is available for purchase here.
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I don’t think I had ever planned my life beyond 2005, so New Year’s 2006 hit me from the out of the blue. We hadn’t made any plans for New Years, either, figuring that something low-key would come along. Ha! This is Bombay. Something came along, but it certainly wasn’t low key.

A friend of a friend of a friend got our gang tickets to the Viren Shah New Year’s Eve party in Worli. I still don’t know who Viren Shah is, other than Page 3 Material, but I’m grateful I was able to show up at his fully-catered bash with free tickets. Nevertheless, it was the epitome of Bombay excess that I have come to despise. (Forgive me for looking a gift horse in the mouth…)
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Another sign that Bombay is booming: it seems like a new club opens each week. Since I arrived over 15 months ago, a number of new clubs, including Zenzi, Seijo and the Soul Dish, and Squeeze have opened in Bandra (north Bombay), the home of the nouveau riche, Bollywood stars, and the majority of Bombay’s decent clubs. Still other clubs, such as Enigma (at the Juhu Marriott), have reopened, cheesier - as I understand - than ever before. South Bombay has even gotten a few hangouts of its own, including the Intercontinental’s Dome, a stylish, white-couched restaurant-cum-lounge on the hotel’s roof with sweeping views of Marine Drive.

Bombay certainly loves its clubs, and the more vapid the better. Like New York or, say, Madrid, most locals prefer to go out as late as possible. The only problem is that many clubs end up shutting down by 1:30 because of assumed or actual police interference. It’s weird - you arrive at midnight and the music stops an hour and a half later. Though I love Bombay, I’ll never consider it a world-class city until it stops living in fear of corrupt cops or Shiv Sena goons.

Anyhow, although I have pretty much outgrown the clubbing urge, I have to get out of the house once in a while. For some reason, I often get questions from people who read this blog about the nightlife scene in Bombay. And, now that New Years is nearing, I thought the time was right to answer them. So, here’s a short run-down of some of Bombay’s clubs. Keep in mind that I am very biased and not easily impressed:
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Bombay has changed to Mumbai. Madras to Chennai. Calcutta to the much less evocative Kolkata. Now, it looks like Bangalore is jumping on the renaming bandwagon. It intends to change its name to Bengaluru, which means “the town of boiled beans” in the local Kannada language.

Is this really necessary?

When a friend sent me the headlines for this story, I thought surely it was a joke concocted by the editors of The Onion. I have no problem with people wanting to get back to their roots, but this whole renaming trend in India comes at a big financial (changing street signs, maps, and tourist materials) - as well as an emotional - cost. Imagine changing New York’s name back to New Amsterdam…

I think Rohinton Mistry summed it up best in a dialogue featured in his novel Such a Long Journey. In this dialogue, two characters are discussing the renaming of Bombay streets and landmarks:
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I’m finally back to work after three restful weeks back in the States. Besides traveling around and seeing family and friends, I had the chance to while away a few afternoons in some national and state parks, including Wakulla Springs, where I saw alligators grinning in the sun, and Sagamore Hill, the former home of President Theodore Roosevelt. October in Central Park was such a wonder - crisp, cool, on the verge of autumnal metamorphosis - that we even spent an hour one afternoon in a rowboat on the Lake.

Now, after having felt the first chill of fall in more than 14 months, I’ve returned to an incredibly temperate and languid Bombay. It’s post-holiday time here (I missed Diwali and Eid-al-Ramzan festivities), but it’s approaching wedding season. Soon all the cricket lawns lining Marine Drive will be alight in candles and torchieres and festooned with marigolds.
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September Ho Gaya…September is gone. And I didn’t even have much time to blog. I did some traveling - again to the Golden Triangle (see below) - went to a film shoot (see my last post), attended the Elle Decor India Design Awards, and also found time to check out the Ganpati Visarjan (immersion) on Chowpatty Beach. For a brief moment, totally unrelated to my Bollywood filming, I was even offered a part in an Indian soap opera! Sadly, that didn’t work out because of timing. But I’ll still keep my hat in the ring for future opportunities.

All of that and work - including full-time and freelance editorial stuff - has not really allowed me to blog lately. Still, I wanted to share some stories and pictures because October will be even busier.
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Much has been made about a possible link-up between Rani Mukherjee and Abhishek Bachchan, two of Bollywood’s biggest stars of the moment. As I’ve mentioned before, Rani is on a hot streak, having had hits with Black (a remake of the Miracle Worker) and the recent Mangal Pandey, as well as lighter fare like Hum Tum. Until recently, Abhishek has really only been known as Amitabh Bachchan’s son. But, he too has become an actor in his own right, most notably (for me, at least) in Bunty aur Babli, a Bonnie and Clyde-type caper that paired him with Rani. Their on-screen chemistry is incredible, a fact that has tabloids squawking about an off-screen romance between the two. (They haven’t even admitted to dating and already the film rags are discussing their marriage. Ah..the world of Hindi cinema…in which the only goal in life is to get married.)
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As Indian states go, Gujarat has a long way to go before becoming tourist friendly. It may be the homeland of many a global Indian (the Patel clan comes from there), but it’s lacking in some of the things that draw tourists, namely the Taj Mahal and alcohol.

Nevertheless, as Gujarat borders on Maharashtra, we decided to pay a weekend visit. Mind you, we didn’t go to the cities like Ahmedabad (home to Gandhi’s erstwhile ashram) or even to Surat. Instead, we flew into Rajkot and drove an hour to the village of Wankaner, a dusty, but bustling village and home to the Wankaner Palace.

Like most former Raj palaces, Wankaner has tried to position itself as a heritage hotel. A friend of ours had stayed there sometime back (”I’m personal friends with the Raj,” she said), so we figured we’d book. The idea sounded quirky enough, and we were under the impression that we’d be staying in the Ranjit Villas - in a real Maharaja’s palace! When we arrived, however, we found we were the only guests at the Motiwadi Royal Oasis, the summer residence of the Wankaners, just 2km away. As we would also discover, no one (other than, perhaps, close personal friends) is allowed to stay in the actual palace - the former Maharaja, Raj, and their family still live there - and no one even stays at the Royal Residency, as parts of it are still under renovation as a result of damage from the Bhuj earthquake.
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No matter what the raging controversy is about the new film about Mangal Pandey, whether it was too harshly anti-British or that Pandey, India’s first so-called freedom fighter, was blasphemously portrayed as a having a relationship with a nautch girl, the picture was a pleasure to watch. I went to the film with approximately 20 other Hindi learners last night, and was really pleased with the quality of the film, from the costumes and acting to the fight scenes and the dialogue (even though I wasn’t able to understand the poetry of the Hindi – mein seekh rahi hoon!) True, the dance scenes probably have no business being in a film about such a serious subject, but I found that they were a welcome break from the tense dialogue. Plus, how can you hate a movie in which Rani Mukherjee plays the nautch girl? Her raspy voice is cool and she’s got more substance to her than most of the other Bollywood actresses.
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I’ve often mused at the title of “I’m Not Rappaport,” the play-then-film about two men from varying backgrounds coming to terms with the ravages of old age. Even though I’ve never seen the play or the film, I was always tickled each time the phrase was used as the punchline of any dumb joke. After yesterday, however, I can kind of say I know what I’m talking about.

“I’m Not Bajirao” is the Bombayite take on the play, wherein an aged Parsi and his Marathi counterpart drone on about old age, the good old days, jokes, family, etc. The play has been running off-and-on for years in Bombay - Anthony likened it to the Shear Madness of Bombay, and thus something we should probably see. So, last evening, we caught a performance at the Tata Theatre, part of the NCPA, an arts complex I’ve lauded before.
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Three days after record-breaking rains brought Bombay to a halt, I’m finally beginning to hear about my friends’ and colleagues’ unbelieveable journeys. South Bombay, as I’ve mentioned before, got hit with 7 inches of rain on Tuesday, but, save for the lack of bustle, it looked pretty normal on Wednesday. On the other hand, the suburbs saw a lot of death and destruction.
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Well, I’m still pretty high and dry here in Bombay. But now I see that the international papers have caught on to our little rain problem. So, it must be a big deal.

Actually, it rained about seven inches in 24 hous in South Bombay. The suburbs, on the other hand, got 27 inches of rain!! Too crazy.

Again, Anthony and I are fine. But it seems the stories are still developing. So if you want to keep track, check out Google News or do your own search:

Nine hours later and…it’s still raining! No flooding where I am, but most of the city is shut down. I guess this is the equivalent of a blizzard, so I’ll concede that flooding is inevitable at this point.

News about the Monsoon:

• Maharashtra rains leave many dead [BBC News]
• Rains bring life to standstill in Mumbai[Mid Day]
• Rains wreak havoc in Mumbai; 150 killed in Konkan[Times of India]
• What’s in store today[Mumbai Mirror]
• Monsoon brings Mumbai to halt [Business Standard]
• Heavy monsoon rains cause travel chaos in Bombay [Reuters]

I’ve been pretty unimpressed by the monsoon so far. Sure, it came in with a bang. Then again, the flooding has happened mostly in the suburbs, not in the city.

In fact, the weather in Bombay has been mostly overcast with occasional sun and sprinkles. The locals said that the rains had “regularized,” meaning that they were coming mostly at night instead of haphazardly during the day. There was a time last week when a colleague of mine was convinced she wouldn’t really need an umbrella for the rest of the season.

Monsoon is really just another name for a weather pattern, a storm. Even when it pours, it never really thunders. I was inappropriately worried about the monsoon shortly before it came, but now I realize that it’s nothing to be scared of.

“Thunder never happens when it’s raining…” Today, that changed.
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Until last week, visiting museums in this country has been a mostly unsatisfying experience. Luckily, we stumbled upon the last day of a week-long exhibit at the Jehangir Gallery entitled “Revisualising India.” Included in the show were pieces from the Osian’s Archive & Library of Cinema and Popular Arts, an auction house and archive center in New Delhi. On display were hundreds of vintage, painted Bollywood posters, photographs from film sets from the 1920s, Ravi Varma lithographs, political posters depicting Gandhi, Nehru, and other folk heroes, art deco style travel posters of Indian destinations, and - for some reason - several Communist-era film posters from Poland and expressive marionettes from Indonesia.
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In case you missed it, MTV launched its newest offspring the other day:
MTV Desi [press release]
From my Bombay-entrenched perspective, I’m surprised that it’s taken so long to put together the channel. Why not just beam MTV India into homes? Well, other than the fact that the VJs here go in and out of Hindi and English (Hinglish) so quickly and with so much slang, you can’t wait for the next video/movie ad to come on. The other problem is that most of the “videos” that are played here are basically musical snippets from up-and-coming Hindi films, many of whch will take a while to reach the DVD stores in Jackson Heights and elsewhere. At least MTV India plays music - I don’t think regular MTV has played a video in about 10 years.

I’ve made some really cool Bollywood/Indi Pop mixes for some of my friends back home that I’ll get in the mail one of these days. In the meantime, if you’ve got DirecTV and money to burn, take a look at MTV Desi. Alternately, here are links to some artists currently on my headphones. Yes, try as I might to avoid it, I have succumbed to the desi dance ishtyle!
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Tired of bland veg curries and dals? Think sheekh kebabs are the only non-veg contribution to Indian cuisine? Then, check out Goa. Thanks to the Portuguese, who left their Euro-Christian tastes for meat, Goan menus include beef and the ever-popular goan sausage. Being on the coast and blessed with wide rivers and creeks, Goan chefs also make the most of the bounty of the sea, with shrimp, lobster, and freshwater fish figuring prominently into daily specials and family feasts. And, although Goan cuisine is not that well-known, even outside of western India, one of its dishes has come to be a staple of curry shops round the world: the dreaded, but oft devoured, vindaloo.
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