CURIOUSER AND CURIOUSER

I didn't notice her when I entered the room - it was l o'clock, I'd come for lunch, but the light in the high ceilinged room was dim and air-conditioning kept the interior cool.  As we were introduced, she rose to her feet,  immensely thin, beautifully dressed in silk, white hair and large, heavily lidded eyes.  She must have been about eighty, but she could also have been a hundred - aristocratic, ageless, reflective, in some other dimension.  She sat apart in the large room and yet seemed attentive across the distance.  Various other people were arranged around the room - courtiers to the main protagonist, the old lady's daughter, who held the floor with dynamic energy expressing herself in amazingly complex sentences of great length.  Her black kohl rimmed eyes were bright as she challenged and confronted, criticized and pronounced with aggressive  assertiveness, making outrageous statements, aware of the consternation they would arouse.  One felt manipulated, a puppet in a play, for which one had not read the script and felt ill-prepared.  The old lady sat quietly watchful.  But drifting towards her later, I felt the intensity of her gaze and she suddenly said in the most beautiful English accent, 'Are you happy here?'  Did she mean India, or in that room that afternoon...?

SALVADOR DALI ?

No - just a street vendor !  Dali would have been impressed !

43 DEGREES C

...and this is Spring !  And it'll be followed by 5 months of Summer !  No breath of air stirs the leaves on the trees. Like Italy, all doors, windows and curtains have to be shut in the morning to keep the heat and light out and each breath you take is like breathing in air from an oven. 

MAN'S BEST FRIEND

There are literally hundreds of them on Jetalpur Road - mostly sandy coloured - owned by nobody and cared for by none.  The rule of the wild dominates and they fight over territory, over mating and over domination of a pack.  They are a rag, tag, moth eaten, thread bare, emaciated bunch - up all night, guarding territory, lying in front of gates and driveways, barking at the slightest sound, protecting property for an owner who doesn't own them.  They sleep all day - making a hollow in the dust, they lie spread out in the sun at the side of the road, their ribs projecting, making a bony profile.  There's one which must have had its legs run over at some time, in the past, because they've healed, bone has grown together, but the four legs are splayed and bowed outwards, six inches above the paw, like a piece of Chippendale furniture. This doesn't seem to impede the hound, he runs with the rest, quite the dominant alpha male and his Chippendale features do not diminish the respect with which he is regarded by the other dogs.

And yet, despite their hard life, they can still wag a tail and look at you with recognition and expression in their eyes, always willing to forgive.

CHAITRA

There's always money to be made - Chaitra, from mid-March to April, in the Hindu Lunar Calendar, is the time when it is wise to drink the juice of the Neem Tree, first thing in the morning for 7 days.  It's bitter and Kavita explained that when she was little, her grandmother used to insist that she have her daily dose no matter what.  It protects you from the ailments of summer and strengthens you.  So the walkers who regularly get up at 6 a.m. to exercise, will be treated to glasses of Neem Juice, by the local restaurants as they walk by.

The Neem Tree, known as the 'Pharmacy Tree' is highly respected - in the villages, the local council have their meetings under a Neem Tree.  It's considered auspicious to have one near by and its every part, bark, leaves, etc, is used for medicinal purposes, from toothpaste to curing stomach aches !

SUNDAY AFTERNOON TEA

'Come for afternoon tea on Sunday'...  Dr Prasad and his wife spoke perfect English.  They had lived in England for many years and spoke affectionately of the Cotswold - it seemed a far away place sitting in the Indian heat of their sitting room.  I was given a glass of water, a traditional greeting to a guest who has just arrived.  I was quite used to this formality.  When I first arrived in India, I used to blush with embarrassment as I pretended to take a sip of the water, terrified of upsetting my constitution and rendering myself incapable of anything for days as my bowel recovered from the invasion of microbes.  But I have acclimatised to the water and it has no effect on me at all these days.  Tea and biscuits were brought - 'Nice' biscuits - they seem to be universal - this ordinary biscuit has gone global.  We chatted on about schools both here and abroad, the climate and which places, I should definitely see in India.   'Have some ice-cream..... you must try the Baroda ice cream.... it's famous' ?  On top of my tea and Nice biscuits, at 5 p.m. on that hot Sunday afternoon?  It seemed wickedly decadent !  An enormous bowl of ice cream was set down before me - everyone watched as I tucked in...I wondered when and what time of day they, themselves, chose for eating ice cream?  Perhaps they only had it on a Monday ?  And I was being spoilt?  It was rich and creamy with the odd  nut and piece of crystallized fruit.  Having seen the local cows walking around the streets eating newspaper and plastic bags, I couldn't help wondering how on earth they managed to produce any milk at all.  This bowl of ice cream was clearly a miracle !

CHANGE

The skyline, too, is changing in this magnificent city of abject contrasts.  'It's going to rival Dubai', said my host as we peered out  at a new 40 storey block going up just in front of his sitting room window.  'We used to be able to look out across the bay as far as Coloba.... but then they built the tower, just there, giving us a concrete wall instead and now this new tower will add to it and block out the light', he explained that by not building a bridge across to the mainland, the shortage of accommodation was becoming acute and driving up property prices, a very desirable objective for those who stood to gain by it !

But for most of the population, the view is not of much concern, they live on the streets and speeding along in the black and yellow taxi cab early in the morning on the way to the airport, the street dwellers were just starting their day, bodies were being lathered in soap, hair was being washed - their bathroom was right there - their ablutions for all to see.

MUMBAI - ALL CHANGE

His every muscle, nerve and sinew seemed engaged in changing up - the gear lever was on the steering column and as a passenger, you were involuntarily involved in all the changes he made from 1st to 2nd, major shift to third which involved the whole shoulder muscle and this tension even extended to the jaw.   Then the change into 4th, as the speed built up,  his attention shifted, as he looked warily over his shoulder, watching  for anyone overtaking him on the inside, checked the mirror, who was coming up behind, calculated the width of the vehicle, the speed, re calibrated, jockeyed for position at the signal ahead, it's red, stop, turn off the engine to save fuel - every bit helps in this cut-throat quest for profit, be ready to turn the key in the ignition on the dash and change into first for take-off when the light changes.  Each yellow and black Fiat cab is individualized with logo and signs - although the shape and size are insignificant and identical, the power lies in the logo !  These are the 'heavy metal rock 'n rollers' of the Mumbai streets !  But they're being phased out - Government decision - these taxi cabs have got to go by 2012 because they guzzle fuel and foul the air !  Emissions...they have to make way for something more environmentally friendly

'Do you think I should apply a little more rust to the chassis' ?    We were looking at the artist's latest metal painting.  It was a large sheet and she had painted a more or less life-size yellow and black taxi cab on it - a real bumper formed the lower part of the frame, as this painted rear view of the vehicle disappeared off into the hazy glow of paradise set with stars - a fitting tribute to the demise of the old Fiat Taxi Cab - a painted 'In Memorium' .

This represents a fundamental change for the city and for its 60 000 cab drivers.  Because it's not just a cab, it's an icon, representing ownership and identity, it's a temple, it's a shrine - Ganesha sits on the dash, it's a repository of faith and belief and superstition, it's a place of work, it's a steed !