Malabar Hill is one of the posh areas in Mumbai, where you would find the houses of many business tycoons and film stars. Today we decided to trek down the hill. We caught a taxi (that’s perhaps the dictionary meaning of the word “trek”) to take us all the way to Malabar Hill. We had in mind to visit many areas in and around Malabar Hill. On the map was mentioned the term “Hanging Garden”. Images of Nebuchadnezzar’s splendidly laid out gardens of Babylon flashed through my mind. But after seeing the Phirozshah Mehta Gardens, I wondered where the “hanging” part was.
Opposite to the Phirozshah Mehta Park, stands the more famous Kamla Nehru Park, and its “Boot House”. The park offers a fantastic aerial view of the Chowpatty Beach, and the Marine Drive, up till Nariman Point. Being a Tuesday, we did not expect much of a crowd, but to our surprise, it was filled with school children out for a picnic. And during my schooling years, I never even got to spend time in our school playgrounds. Even with all the crime happening in the city, the Maharashtra Police seem to be over-staffed. There were five cops manning the place – quite unusual for a park. And soon they got their victims – three school children, making mischief in the park. The cops were more than happy to give them a big lecture about how they should not put their lives and the lives of others in danger. But the language they were using was far from polite, and downright abusive.
Our next destinations for the day were not mentioned in the map that we had been following. Getting to the first one was easy – the Banganga temple complex at the base of Malabar Hill, near Malabar Point. Squeezing through all the gullies and by-lanes of the area, one would come across a huge dirty tank, near the sea. Around the tank are situated a zillion temples that together form the Banganga complex. Away from the bustle of tourist activity, people continue their lives out here, worshipping the cow that stands opposite the Walkeshwar Temple, on the way to their duties of the day. For, the average tourist never knows that this temple was built way back in 1127 AD. It was destroyed by the Portuguese, but was rebuilt by a benevolent businessman in the eighteenth century.
The Banganga Tank was also built in the same year as the original temple, and is today the oldest structure in the city of Mumbai; a fact lost on many a tourist. Legend has it that Lord Rama, on his way to Lanka, had stopped over here. As he felt thirsty, he drove an arrow into the ground, and out sprang the water of river Ganga to quench his thirst, and hence the name. Wikipedia claims that the tank is cleaned every January for the elaborate Banganga Music Festival, but one look at the tank, and it seemed to us that it had not been cleaned for the past few years. However, clean or not clean, a visit to that area is an experience one cannot forget – simply considering the history behind the place.
If that was an experience one cannot forget, the next was even more surreal. In the midst of the bustling noises of the Girgaum area, lies an oasis of calm. Surrounded by concrete monsters, both old and new, lies the wooden Christian bastion of Khotachiwadi, a heritage village in the midst of the great city. The entrance to this hamlet would be easily missed if you are not specifically looking for it. And that seems to be the case with the rest of the city, as the place has a peaceful silence surrounding it. The hamlet consists of two-storied wooden houses, with a verandah and long staircases running at the front of the house. Our only companions in this place were some art students, who were busy making sketches of these splendid architectural beauties. It was as if we had been transported to some quaint Goanese village.
A few meters away from Khotachiwadi, on the main road, you would come across a huge Victorian building in a dilapidated state. In any European city, this would have been one of the biggest attractions for the tourist. Standing at the big junction that bears its name is the only Opera House in India. Today in a state of disuse, the once-beautiful building that would have seen many a celebrity, acts as a lime depot. Thankfully, there seemed to be a few scaffoldings in place, perhaps the signs of a long-due renovation.
Moving east of the opera house area, towards even more crowded by-lanes, one would reach the famous (or infamous, as one would perceive) Chor Bazaar – the “Thieves’ Market”. Everybody knows that you could perhaps never buy anything original from here, but people nevertheless throng these streets in search of antiques, automobile parts, hardware tools and what else. SS had clarified that you could possibly buy anything from a pin to a motor car out here. Of course you had to be careful about your belongings when you visited Chor Bazaar – they would flick it off you and try to sell it to you. Hence I was doubly careful about my belongings. It was not an overstatement when he mentioned that you could buy “anything” out here. I was amazed to find English gramophone records from the fifties and sixties – I even found one of Star Wars. SS seemed to be obsessed with old coins and hourglasses, and was quite enthusiastic to haggle with each shopkeeper for the price of them. The authenticity of the stuff was soon clear to us when we saw a coin “made” by the East India Company in 1939, that too with the picture of Hanuman behind it.
Our last act for the day and perhaps for the trip was to have a long stroll along the busy Colaba Causeway – the tourist hotspot of the city of Mumbai. For those in Bangalore wondering what is so great about this place, it is the “Brigade Road of Mumbai”. For a long time, we wandered along the pavement, haggling with the vendors, having friendly conversations with the tourists, and lapping up the bad experience we had at the much hyped-up Leopold Café. Four days of fun had finally come to an end.
The last photograph we took before calling it a day was the majestically lit dome of the Taj Mahal Hotel. It did not come off well, but some things print a far better picture in your mind that on paper.
Quote of the Day: Debating about how much we should tip the waiter at Leopold Cafe, SS quipped angrily: "Why should we tip them so much? They don't know how to treat Indians properly!"
Me: "They may not know how to treat Indians properly...But we do..."
Pic of the Day: (I had a black and white pic, but chose this to avoid monotony - so much for hypocrisy)
As free as a bird? Not anymore. Life can at times be cruel!
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