I am so glad to be back in Bombay – after a miserable two weeks in Delhi. Miserable for a lot of reasons, not the least being the fact that I spend most of my spare time mulling over how much I dislike the city…
Early morning, half asleep on my cab ride from Gurgaon to Delhi, Richa on Radio City brings me to a sharp level of consciousness with goody-good-morning, this is Richa on Radio City 91 FM. Goody-good-morning, nothing less. And in case you thought this was slip of the tongue or something she would quickly have us forget, no, she repeats it all through her hour (or more?) on the show.
And here I was, going into nervous hysterical spasms at Vidya Balan’s Good Mornnnnniiiiiiing Mumbai…
Later, as I wait at the open Nescafe kiosk at NIFT, waiting to meet a professor, I watch the kids talk and laugh loudly, agruing about cuts and cloth, textures and finish. I wonder if they realize that they are in the best years of their lives… I remember always being in a hurry to “grow up”, to go on to the next big thing in life, college when in school, a job when at university… I want to stop them and tell them to savor every minute of this. Soon they will have to step out into the big bad world of corporateness, even if in the impressive sounding positions of visual merchandisers and children’s fashion experts (As an aside, yes indeed. I found out that there are fashions for children’s wear that change every season, there are hot and not so hot colors and cuts, much like with fashion for adults. And devoted mummies, and perhaps daddies too? keep a close eye on these changing trends).
I smile fondly at the kids who seem so preoccupid with their exams. And I also smile as I remember the small bright ad inside the loo (oh, what is this with advertising and the ladies loo?) —
Various notes to self
1. none of the kids look like they would be unduly worried if there was a ‘woman attracted to a woman’ in their midst
2. wonder what kind of help the helpline would provide to those who have called to ‘speak in confidence’
3. stop, definitely stop taking pictures with the mobile phone inside the ladies’ loo. something vaguely disturbing about it
Even later, at Khan Market, I slip into the Faqir Chand and Sons bookshop to pick up something quickly to keep me occupied as I wait for someone else at the neighboring Barista. As I mull over why all the books are wrapped tightly in thin cellophane, a shrill voice floats in with a request for Mills & Boon.
Haan ji, Mills and Boon hai na, says the lady at the counter to the discerning customer. And turns to the assistant and says madam ke liye Mills & Boon nikalna. Dekho wahan, bilkul classics ke neeche hai.
Look, there they are, right below the classics. That said it all.