The Fourth Seat

Hotel Deluxe is tucked away into a quite corner of Pitha street off Pherozshah Mehta Marg which is off DN Road. I have written about my first time at Deluxe earlier in September. And since then I have made sure that I visit it whenever possible. Of late it has become a regular haunt. Especially for the delectable tea time snacks and the frothy tea that they serve in a big tumbler. Also, it is quite cheap. Inexpensive is a fancy term. Cheap is best. Both literally and otherwise. But this post is not entirely about the economical prices of this place which is run like a not-for-profit organisation. It is about human warmth. I was hungry this evening and low on cash. Typical characteristics of a man with a wiry frame, a scraggy beard, unkempt hair and dull clothes. So that shouldn't surprise anyone. It was 645 and today being Sunday, all places around Fort  are shut because there is no business today. Except for, Deluxe, of course. I hurried to get there before 7, afte...

The Banyan tree has always fascinated me. It's the symbol of knowledge because under one such tree, Buddha attained enlightenment. The logo of National Book Trust is a Peepul tree. Wadala area of Central Bombay is named after the numerous Vad trees that it is home to. And not after Batata Wada as it is wrongly assumed. But these are not the reasons that I like this tree. I like it for its aerial roots that hang solemnly, from which I swing across at times. Just like Tarzan. Fully clothed Tarzan in the urban forest, my mighty call goes unheard in the din that surrounds me and there are no Gorillas to back me. And my Jane, well, that is another story. One of my favorite Peepul tree is the one at Horniman Circle. Right outside the gate, which has a small pyau(watering hole for the urban animals). The trap has dried out so you can sit on the parapet that surrounds the tap. I spend my time under this old tree. Especially during evenings. When the world rushes home and within a few hour...

Rajabai Tower didn't change colours like it does at times. The clock chimed a tad softly today, as we both walked through Oval Maidan. It was the last time that she would walk through this enigmatic place that she had grown so fond of in a very short time. It was here, in this dark ground where someone had tried to grope her. It was here that she roamed about when she arrived on the first day. Trying to make sense of the vast puzzle of people, of the sounds and the smells that greeted her. It was, in the truest sense of the cliched term, an assault on her senses. The heat was harsh but the people were kind. Well, at least some were. Rest were curious she concluded and didn't bother much with them. I can not write about the times that I didn't spend with her. But I listened in utter fascination to her tales of the lands to which she travelled to. Of the souls that she came across and of the fun she had. I couldn't say if I was envious but I certainly felt drawn to som...