Mumbai Magic

- By Deepa Krishnan

A couple of days ago, I walked through Santacruz Market. It's great for photography, with lots of colour! There's a meat and fish market, a vegetable market, lots of spices and snacks, as well as fabrics and jewellery. I had only a camera-phone and I didn't really photograph everything in the market. But here are some photos of the food section.

Indoor market for vegetables

The fish market was nearby, with a busy looking kolin inviting me to check out the day's catch. There were a couple of men selling dried fish as well.

Neatly slicing with her curved fish-knife

The meat market was gross as usual, dirty and bloody. I walked quickly past it. I think Mumbai customers should make more of a fuss about how the meat is displayed and sold. No wonder people are buying super-market meats! It was a relief to come out to the open street.

General street view: The awnings of the shops offer protection from sun and rain

Jalaram Stores, selling tea-time snacks

Pickle and spice shop

Leafy vegetables being arranged. The daily stock arrives in jute bags and is cleaned and presented on bamboo baskets.

Several spice shops sell fried stuff. This shop had a board advertising various types of fresh-ground flours. Looks like pasta is very popular in Santacruz!

As usual, the most fragrant thing was coriander.

The coriander stall also had fenugreek and mint, as well as chillies, garlic, lemongrass, fresh turmeric, ginger and amba-harad. I was very tempted to buy some amba-harad for pickling, but I had a deadline and lots of other work in the market, so I reluctantly walked away.

The winter fruits were interesting too. They deserve a whole post of their own!

I'm definitely going back to Santacruz Market. Next time, I'll photograph the fabric markets and the little stalls that sell embellishments for sarees and salwar kameez. And I'll see what else I can find. What a fabulous market it is. I think a new bazaar walk may be coming up!

- By Deepa Krishnan

There's an exhibition currently going on at two art galleries, Max Mueller Bhavan and Mirchandani+Steinruecke. It's called "Touched by Bhupen", and it pays homage to the artist Bhupen Khakhar, who died in 2003. A group of 26 artists have come together to display art works and installations inspired by Khakhar.

Poster as soon as you enter Galerie Max Mueller

So why all the fuss about Bhupen Khakhar, you ask? Who was he, anyway?

Photos of Bhupen Khakhar, sourced from http://bhupenkhakharcollection.com

Bhupen Khakkar is considered to be one of most iconic, provocative and controversial artists of 20th century India. Born in Bombay in 1934, he moved to Baroda in the 60's. His paintings, with their street and daily life imagery, combined with some sardonic and playful twists, have been a major influence on Indian artists. He was among the earliest to portray the ordinary - the tailor, the rickshawalla, the barber - in ways that celebrated the mundane. He used historical and mythological references, as well as stylistic references to traditional painting techniques, to create a unique style of his own. Khakhar was the leading member of what is called the 'Baroda group', a set of artists who defined the art scene in the 70's. .

In the 80's Khakhar created a sensation by becoming India's first openly gay artist to express his homosexuality on canvas. In a repressed era where such subjects were taboo, this made him iconic.

"You can't please all", 1981, Bhupen Khakhar

In "You can't please all", Bhupen Khakkar references the Aesop's fable of the boy and his father taking a donkey to the market. The man on the balcony overlooking this street scene is himself. He painted this at his house in Baroda, at a point in time where he had not yet openly declared himself gay.

My introduction to Bhupen Khakhar came in Bangalore this September, where I attended a talk at the NGMA. I learnt that it was only after the death of his mother that he could bring himself to come out. "I can't do this to her", he told a friend. "She won't understand."

But after she died, he began expressing himself through his work. Here is one that moved me, because you can see he is not afraid to express his insecurity and need:

"How many hands do I need
to declare my love to you?"
Watercolour, 1994

Since that talk at NGMA, I have looked up many of Bhupen Khakhar's works online, checked out photos and tidbits, trying to piece together who he was, and how this boy from a traditional Gujju family in Khetwadi could actually come out finally and declare his sexual orientation to the world. I've read what his friends have to say about him. What emerges from all the things written about him is that he was a unique man. Someone who was not afraid to paint his inner world, someone who appreciated the beauty within the mundane, who was not afraid of the grotesque. Above all, a man who was not afraid to declare his hurts and disappointments.

Anyway - I was quite intrigued by the concept of 26 artists doing tribute to Khakhar, and it so happened that I was passing by Max Mueller Bhavan, so I popped in to have a look:

Jogen Chowdhury's "His peaceful life in Heaven" on the left. I don't remember what the one on the right was called.

Karmakar's "Door" and "35 Views", two installations referencing how Khakhar shows both the inner and outer worlds. And also referencing the voyeurism in Khakhar's art

Of course, one of the problems with this kind of tribute/homage is that it tends to have all kinds of impossible-to-understand references, since each artist is influenced by Khakhar in different ways. But leaving that aside, there is some really good stuff to see. These 26 include some of the major contemporary artists in India today, so if you are anywhere near the Gateway of India, then you have until Jan 6th to check it out.

Like I said earlier, there are two venues; Max Mueller Bhavan and Mirchandani+Steinruecke.

I did not go to Mirchandani+Steinreucke, but I am very tempted to go, having seen all these interesting installations and exhibits on their website

Ram Rahman: Akhara Gate, Panchkuian Road, Delhi, 1980s. The photographer Ram Rahman shares Khakkar's interest in the depiction of street scenes, and finds some playful humor as well in this photograph.

Clockwise: Anju Dodiya, Sudhir Patwardhan and Gulammohammed Sheikh

In case you are planning to go, here is some practical information:

Exhibition details:

Dates: Friday, 29th November 2013 to Monday, 6th January 2014

Venues:

1) Galerie Mirchandani + Steinruecke
(Tuesday – Saturday 11 am to 7 pm)

2 Sunny House, 16/18 Mereweather Road, Behind Taj Mahal Hotel, Colaba, Mumbai 400 001

2) Galerie Max Mueller, Max Mueller Bhavan, next to Jehangir Art Gallery - +91 22 2202 3030/ 3434 - Call and check opening days and hours before you go. I think they are closed Mondays.

- By Deepa Krishnan

If you walk into the Bhau Daji Lad Museum at Byculla, you'll see a beautiful marble bust of David Sassoon, Mumbai's most famous Jewish businessman and philanthropist.

David Sassoon (1792 to 1864)

The Sassoon family history is a little fuzzy. One theory is that they originally came from the mountainous region of Sason in modern-day Turkey. The Sasoon surname is even today found among the Armenian and Kurd population of Sason. It is possible that some Sephardic (Spanish) ancestry existed among the Jews of Sason. In fact, according to Shaul Sapir, author of "Bombay - Exploring the Jewish Urban Heritage", the Sassoons trace their ancestry to Spain, to a family called the Ibn Shoshan (ibn Susan) who lived in the city of Toledo. Perhaps some branch of the Ibn Shoshan clan migrated to Turkey.

The city of Toledo, near Madrid, Spain

Whatever their history and origins, the earliest member of the Sassoon family to arrive in India was David Sassoon in 1832. He was born in Baghdad (present day Iraq) to a wealthy Jewish family who served as bankers and treasurers to the pasha. Fleeing political trouble, David Sassoon moved his wealth from Baghdad to Bushehr (Iran) in 1828. Four years later, he moved his wealth further east from Bushehr to Bombay.

In the early 19th century, Bushehr was the primary port in Iran. The East India company had a base at Bushehr and nearly 100 English and Arab ships came there each year from India and Muscat to trade. Goods from China and India were traded at Bushehr: cloth, metals, spices, indigo, tea, rice, sugar, pottery and porcelain, and wood for shipbuilding. Thus, it was possibly logical for David Sassoon to transition from Bushehr to Bombay, another British trading port.

David Sassoon was 40 years old when he came to Bombay. Initially, he operated as a middleman for the British East India Company, using his contacts in the the middle-east. In 1842, ten years after David Sassoon arrived in Bombay, the British signed the Treaty of Nanking with the Chinese Emperor, opening up the Chinese market for trade in opium. Several Parsi merchants made the most of the opportunity; but David Sassoon was the first Jewish businessman to send his sons to open offices in Canton, Shanghai and Hong Kong to profit from the trade.

A sort of three-way flow emerged: the Sassoons would export Indian yarn and opium to China; then from China, they would export tea and silk to Britain; and from Britain they exported textile goods into India. It's too complicated to draw, so I've only shown the first part of the transaction in the map above (the export from India to China).

If you want to see what the opium factories and inland shipping looked like, click on the engraving below. You can see a larger image:

David Sassoon with
three of his sons

According to Sir Jamsetjee Jeejeebhoy, a contemporary of David Sassoon in the opium business, "....the chief cause of David Sassoon's success was the use he made of his sons". And sons there were several: two from his first wife Hannah Joseph; and after her death, six from his second wife Farha Hyeem. Although David Sassoon spoke no English, his sons learnt the language and adopted Western modes of clothing as well.

As the Sassoon wealth grew, so did their munificence. They built synagogues, gardens, hospitals, schools and colleges in Mumbai. It looked as if David Sassoon decided that Bombay was a good place to settle down permanently. He built a palatial house in Byculla for himself and invested in improving facilities for Jewish people in Bombay.

The Sassoons were keen to establish an excellent relationship with the British. They owned large tracts of land in Byculla, and from their holdings they donated a parcel of land to create the Victoria and Albert Museum (now called Bhau Daji Lad Museum). Here's the statue inside the Bhaudaji Lad Museum, containing the dedication to Prince Albert, by David Sassoon:

Statue of Prince Albert with David Sassoon's statue placed at the foot. The figures on the left and right are Science and Art

The dedication is in five languages: Hebrew, Marathi, Gujarati, Persian and English. It says:

Albert,

Prince Consort

Dear to Science, Dear to Art

Dear to Thy Land and Ours, A Prince Indeed

Dedicated by David Sassoon

1864

David Sassoon spent 32 fruitful years in Bombay, providing leadership (and employment) to the Jewish community of the city. When he died in 1864, his son Albert Abdallah Sassoon took over leadership of the vast Sassoon business interests. Albert Sassoon migrated to London, married into the very wealthy Rothschild family, and acquired a Baronetcy. Another son, Elias David Sassoon, set up his own independent firm in China, and thus left Bombay. In fact, six of David Sassoon's eight sons eventually migrated, leaving behind very few Sassoons in Mumbai.

I wonder if David Sassoon realised during his lifetime that his family's involvement with Bombay would be limited to 2 or 3 generations. Today there is no member of the family in Bombay, but the beautiful monuments they have left behind are a lasting legacy.

- By Deepa Krishnan

Today I went with my cousin Lavanya to the India Non Fiction Festival.

I have been reading 'From Dongri to Dubai', the story of organised crime in Mumbai, so it was great to see and hear the author S Hussain Zaidi. We heard some amazing anecdotes, all the more impactful because they were couched in very no-nonsense terms.

Hussain Zaidi's book is very 'Bambaiya' in character. Only in Bombay would you have three underworld brothers from the Christian quarter of Byculla called the Johnny Gang, with names like Bada Johnny, Chota Johnny and Chikna Johnny :) As you may have guessed, the youngest was very good-looking.

And only in Bombay would you read an anecdote like this one: Apart from the Johnny Gang, there was a rival gang from Byculla's Muslim area. Ibrahim Dada was the leader of the gang. He once went to the passport office where he met Maria, a receptionist from the Byculla Christian locality. When he and Maria started dating, Bada Johnny confronted him. "Why are you messing around with a girl from our area?" And in reply, Ibrahim Dada actually sang a movie song: Jab Pyaar Kiya to Darna Kya! Where else except in Bombay? :)

The crimelords of Mumbai operated from several areas: Byculla, Dagdi Chawl, Chinchpokli, etc. They were Hindu as well as Muslim. All came from humble beginnings.

Here are some photos, so you get a general sense of street scenes from the Muslim areas of Byculla / Bhendi Bazaar / Dongri:

Muslim tenement, Byculla

Street scene near Gol Deval

Roof of Minara Masjid, seen from JJ flyover

Hussain also spoke about his earlier book the Mafia Queens of Mumbai, a group of essays about some women who were an integral part of Bombay's crime scene. I think I'll buy the book. It sounds murky and fascinating, with a gritty street Bambaiya feel that I can't resist.

I also enjoyed listening to Vaibhav Purandare, author of 'Bal Thackeray - The rise and fall of the Shiv Sena'. The Sena's early years and the inter-linkages between politics, big business and trade unions were very interesting. I haven't read his book, have you?

Here is an aerial view of a section of the textile mill district in Parel. This is the setting for the Shiv Sena's meteoric rise. I clicked this photo in March 2008. Today the skyline of the area is dominated by high rise buildings.

Aerial view, Parel, 2008

I asked Vaibhav Purandare what he thought of the Sena's future strategy; specifically its approach towards violence. He seemed to feel there is no coherent strategy at the moment, given the factional in-fighting and split between the two cousins. He also feels that the Maharashtrian youth of today want jobs and education and to participate in the modern economy; not keep going back to a golden past or to keep throwing stones or damaging property.

Both authors served up a spicy cocktail of Mumbai's political and criminal landscape. The auditorium was completely full and there were lots of questions at the end.

Nehru Centre is always a pleasure to visit. Alongside the festival there was also an exhibition of tribal art; I bought a beautiful large Gond painting. In the photo behind us is a small part of the extensive set of Saura paintings from Orissa. The art exhibition is there tomorrow as well.

- By Aishwarya Pramod

General scene at Rampart Row

Queen of Hearts sarees and fabric stall (run by mother and daughter)

Inability of my mother to resist red saree at Queen of Hearts

Self getting suckered by awesome indigo
prints at Mura Collective from Delhi

Cute pig I bought for my window-sill:
Laquercraft from Chennapattana, sold by Varnam

Mother taking artsy photos of me and cousin

Random art plus environmental messages

Random art plus grandparents

KEC Greengames - reviving traditional Indian games to improve children's motor skills and emotional intelligence

One more general public

General public under tree (it was hot today)

Festival Summary: Heat and crowds. Random art. Some nice stalls. Next time I'll try to go for the events.

- By Deepa Krishnan

Recently I was walking in Churchgate when I saw a beautiful red double-decker go by.

I have so many fond memories of these buses! As children, we loved to ride the top section, especially the two front seats with views. We would clamber up the stairs as fast as we could, hoping to beat everyone else to the prized seats.

I looked up the history of the double-decker, and found some interesting tidbits. Did you know that the earliest "double decker" buses actually pre-date the combustion engine? They were horse-drawn, with open decks on top :) To access the top deck, you had to use a ladder. In fact, horse-drawn buses continued in rural areas of the UK until 1932.

Photo source: http://www.doubledecker-bus.com/history/

Motorised double-decker buses came to India in 1937, but not to Mumbai. It was in Trivandrum that they first appeared, because His Highness Sri Chitira Thirunal Balarama Varma, the ruler of Travancore decided to modernize the Travancore State Department of Transport.

He appointed a Superintendent, Mr. E G Salter, who used to work for the London Passenger Transport Board. Engines and chassis were imported; and the bodies built locally under Mr. Salter's supervision. Within a year, there were 34 buses ready.

A grand inauguration was organised. His Highness and the royal family were the first passengers on the inaugural bus service in Trivandrum. Mr. Salter, the Superintendent, drove the bus himself! What a fun spectacle it must have been, buses trundling along with the rajah in the lead!

In 1938, motorised double-decker buses started plying in Mumbai (by the way, BEST claims it is 1937, and the Kerala State Transport insists that Mumbai got its buses only in 1938). I cannot find photos of these buses, but I think they probably looked like the STL buses built by AEC in the UK. They were first introduced in 1932 in London, and became hugely popular. They were the standard bus in London for nearly a decade. So it stands to reason that Mr. Salter used this bus as the basis for his Indian fleet.

Photo source: http://www.doubledecker-bus.com/models/

By 1947, there were 242 double-decker buses on Bombay roads, and they were considered a good way to deal with the city's growing population. I gotta ask my mom if she remembers these; and whether they had front-boarding or rear-boarding.

In 1954, another popular double-decker bus appeared in London, the Routemaster. It used two types of engines, either an AEC engine or a Leyland engine. It took the double-decker world by storm, and became an instant hit. A variant of the Routemaster began to be manufactured in India by Ashok Leyland with 50% of the components sourced locally. The first Indian version of the Routemaster was called 'Titan' and it made its appearance in Mumbai in 1967.

Photo source: http://www.ashokleyland.com/history

Since then, Ashok Leyland's Titan (and its children and grandchildren) have been plying in Mumbai. There have been model upgrades and improvements over the last 75 years. But their numbers have been decreasing. Today there are only 121 such buses in the city, and they are operated only along long-distance routes (they are economically unviable on shorter routes). Older buses have been relegated to the scrapheap, and dismantled for the metal.

Meanwhile, the original Routemasters were discontinued in London in 1968, and now only a few continue on some heritage routes. I wonder if the Bombay double-decker also will be discontinued soon :( Currently, the BEST is offering a rental scheme, where you can hire an open-deck double-decker for private use.

MTDC runs an open-top bus tour on the weekends in the evenings. It is called Nilambari, and the bus is painted blue (can't say I like the colour). I haven't tried the tour, but it looks like a great alternative to scrapping the buses. I hope that MTDC beefs up this tour with more publicity and creates a permanent place for the double-decker in Mumbai's future.

Speaking of the future, the man who has already created a unique permanent place in Mumbai for the double-decker is artist Sudarshan Shetty. Amidst the steel and glass structure of the Maker Maxity office complex in BKC, Shetty has installed a Flying Bus; a double decker with glittering metallic wings. The bus is the venue for different art installations; in effect, it is an art gallery.

I loved the bus the minute I set my eyes on it. It is simply gorgeous, isn't it? To me Sudarshan Shetty's Flying Bus represents the hidden potential of the everyday objects we take for granted. Go take a look at it if you are ever in BKC.

- by Janaki Krishnan

The bitter gourd (karela) is an unpopular vegetable, but I love it. I cook it in many different ways to remove the bitterness and make it tasty. My favourite way of using karela is to make karela chips. I wait for summer, when karelas come to the market in large quantities.

Karela being sold in Matunga Market

I buy three kilos minimum (two daughters + me). Since I have a vegetable vendor at my doorstep, I get them early in the morning, even before breakfast. All through breakfast, the karelas sit on my kitchen counter, dominating the space, calling out for attention!

As soon as breakfast is over, I begin the process of making them. First they have to be washed. Then any ripe ones are to be separated. The seeds of the ripe ones can be planted, and will grow into a beautiful creeper. We have a creeper growing nicely in our verandah.

Karela creeper in my verandah

The first step in making chips is to cut the karelas into round slices.

At the chopping board - the slices don't have to be very thin.

Place the slices in a thick bottomed broad vessel. Add 3 tablespoons of salt to the slices and let it rest. After an hour and a half, you will see that the karelas have released their liquid, and you have a salty liquid at the bottom of the vessel.

Transfer this liquid into a smaller vessel and add tamarind to it. You will need lots of tamarind, around the size of three lemons. After 15 minutes of soaking in the liquid, the tamarind will soften and you can extract the pulp. To this salty-sour mixture, add half a table-spoon of asafoetida and turmeric, and one and half tablespoons of red chilli powder.

Pour this liquid on the karelas in large vessel, and mix the karelas in this liquid thoroughly. Add half a glass of water.

After this, it is time to semi-cook the karela. This is a tricky process, as you need to ensure that all the slices in the vessel get uniformly cooked. You need to either turn over the slices gently with a spatuala, or shake the vessel in a circular upward movement (like you would do with a sieve) to move the slices around. You have to do this repeatedly to ensure all the slices are evenly cooked.

Once the green colour changes (it is semi-cooked), drain the water. Do not throw away the liquid, because it may be necessary to use it later.

Here is how it looks after it is semi-cooked and laid out to dry on a moram (sieve):

Before you put it on the sieve to dry, taste and see if the salt and chilli are adequate. At this stage the chilli taste should be more dominant, since it will become more salty when it dries. Add more chilli or salt if necessary after tasting. If you find the taste bitter then you can do another round of soaking in the tamarind solution.

Place the sieve in a sunny area and dry for 2 days. Taste it at the end of the first day's drying process. If you want to make changes to it, you can again put it in the tamarind solution, and then dry it again.

Once it dries, then it can be fried in oil and made into chips. Perfect with dahi-rice or with rasam-rice! You can also store it for future use, in a dry air-tight container.

- By Deepa Krishnan

With the winter season gone, it is time to say goodbye to the last of the "turichya shenga" - the green pods of tuar dal.

The English name for this most basic of Indian dals is pigeonpea. I find the name both prosaic and beautiful :)

There is archaeological evidence of tuar dal in India from nearly 3500 years ago. Two Neolithic sites from Odisha - Gopalpur on Sea and Golabai Sasan - have shown evidence of tuar dal. In fact, Odisha still has wild strains of tuar growing it forests. Tuar has been found at Sanganakallu (near Bellary, Karnataka), another Neolithic site where extensive excavation work has been going on. Another Chalcolithic site in Maharashtra, Tuljapur Garhi (Vidarbha district) also shows tuar dal.

There is some dispute around whether tuar dal is native to India, or came here from Africa. However, the more accepted understanding by researchers is that tuar went from India to Malaysia and East Africa, then on to West Africa and finally to the West Indies, where in 1962 it was named pigeonpea. Pigeonpea then went to the New World (America etc) through the slave trade from Africa.

Today it is grown in more than 25 countries, but India has a giant share: we produce 80% of the world's tuar dal. We import tuar dal from Africa because we cannot meet our domestic consumption needs.

I went to the Indira Market at Sion last week and bought a quarter kilo of fresh tuar pods. It is an expensive vegetable, typically selling at Rs 100 a kilo. The simplest way to eat it is by cleaning the pods, and steaming them whole in a vessel with salt and turmeric. You can spend some happy "timepass" hours shelling them and eating the sweet pods inside.

I decided to make rava-bhaath with the rest of my fresh tuar. Here's a quick recipe: Take two tablespoons of oil, and temper with mustard seeds, green chillies, curry leaves and asafoetida. Add rava (semolina) and saute some more until it turns a light brown. Add salt. Toss in fresh pigeon peas, then add boiling water, cover and cook for 5 minutes. Turn off the flame, squeeze lemon juice and garnish with fresh coriander leaves before serving. We ate it with yoghurt and amla (gooseberry) pickle. Here is what it looked like:

Tuar is grown primarily in Maharashtra, which accounts for nearly 35% of India's production. The other somewhat big producers are Orissa, Karnataka and Uttar Pradesh, which together account for another 40%. It is a kharif crop, so we see fresh tuar coming into the market in the winter season, from December to March. After March, you can't usually get fresh tuar. If you love the taste of fresh tuar, you can shell them like peas, and put them away in the freezer for use later in the year.

I haven't frozen any fresh tuar, so for the rest of the year, I've got to eat the dried version.

Here's one of my favourite recipes of dried yellow tuar dal with kasuri methi (fenugreek leaves):

In a kadai, add a tablespoon of oil. Add jeera (cumin), dried red chillies, finely chopped garlic and half a chopped onion. Saute until you get drunk on the aroma :) :) but don't allow the chillies to blacken (keep the flame low). Add cooked tuar dal, and a little bit of turmeric. Let it boil for 5 minutes on a low flame. Add a handful of kasuri methi (dried fenugreek) and switch off the flame. Stir the fenugreek in, garnish with coriander, and serve piping hot with basmati rice. Enjoy!

- by Deepa Krishnan

I went to Bandra yesterday to see an exhibition of photographs clicked by children in Dharavi.

I confess I did not expect much. But I was blown away by what I saw.

The first thing I realised is that this is a very different sort of story-telling: it is an inside and intensely personal viewpoint, rather than an outsider's temporary peek into Dharavi (which is what you usually see in the press).

The second thing I realised is that the photos themselves set a high aesthetic standard. Meaning, it is not a bleeding heart exhibit where you put up with poor output simply because of the background of the artists. They don't have the slickness of professional photographers, yes, but they are very good.

Third, I couldn't help responding to the sheer emotion in the photos. They go straight to the heart of the subject. Perhaps this kind of directness can only come from children. There is innocence, grace, beauty and the sheer magic of childhood shining through the photos. Collectively, the photos provide a unique insight into daily life and community as seen through young eyes. My phone camera really doesn't do justice to them, so go take a look yourselves and see if you agree with me.

The exhibition also had other things that were produced by the kids, like the charming Meow Book, which has colourful illustrations of cats with lots of stuff about the secret lives of cats :) There was another beautiful book wiith personal stories of women. There were postcards, notebooks, and so on. Those were high quality as well.

The exhibition was organised by Dharavi Art Room, which provides a space for the children of Dharavi to express themselves and explore issues through art. Recently, they've started working with women as well, teaching photography.

I spoke to Himanshu who founded The Dharavi Art Room 8 years ago, and to Akki, who joined a year ago. They're passionate about what they do - and what's more, they bring excellence into it.

Recently, they've run into funding problems, and lost their permanent space in Dharavi. I've offered to sponsor a new space for The Art Room, and am now actively looking for space in Dharavi.

They need lots of financial assistance as well. If you can help, let me know, I'll send you their budget.

More updates soon on my space hunt in Dharavi.

Meanwhile: how to get to the current exhibition:
The Hive, 50 - A, Huma Mansion, Opposite Ahmed Bakery, Chuim Village Rd, Khar West, Mumbai, Maharashtra, India 400050. They will be there all of this week.

- By Deepa Krishnan

Yesterday I took a friend to Jehangir Art Gallery, to see Sudharak Olwe's photos of Kamathipura.

These photos took him 10 years to produce. They are gritty and truthful and painful; they are also a starkly beautiful, aesthetic commentary on Mumbai.

Sudharak has photographed 11th Lane, Kamathipura and the people who inhabit it. There are street scenes, portraits, photos of daily life, festivals and events. There is joy, intimacy, bravado, sullenness and despair. Above all, there are stories. Each photograph feels like a frame in a movie - it makes you stop and think about what is happening in the scene, or has happened just before.

As I saw the photos, I remembered my visit to Pune's Budhwar Peth red-light district with a non-profit called Saheli. It was about 5 years ago; but it's not the sort of thing you forget. Seeing the brothels - the narrow dirty stained beds sandwiched between thin wooden ply partitions - was a misery and trial beyond words.

Unlike other non-profits, Saheli is collectively run by the commercial sex workers themselves. There are a couple of social workers, who help with the day to day affairs, document the work, intercede with the police, etc. But the primary decisions regarding all key issues are taken by the women sex workers.

I learnt about the different ways in which girls end up in prostitution. Most had been trafficked. In many cases, the brothel owners had loaned or paid money to the girl's family, and the girl was the guarantee/pledge. The girl must first repay her family's loan if she ever wants to leave. I also learnt how impossible it was to repay the debt. The earnings from prostitution were meagre (rates began at 20 rupees), and half of that went to the brother keeper. The women had to pay their own living expenses, pay for their children, and often send money back home. The interest rates were very high, and the debt usually just kept piling up astronomically. Finally, it was all about money. If you had money, it was actually possible to leave.

When Saheli was formed, the first thing the women did was to organise a community kitchen. I learnt that real estate in the brothel area was so precious that every six foot area possible was converted into a bed. The restaurants in the area had also been converted to brothels. Hence the community kitchen, which cooked home-style food, and also provided an alternative occupation to some retired sex workers.

After setting up a community kitchen, the next thing the women put in place was a creche for their children. A commercial sex worker is usually a single-parent, working in a dangerous environment. Children are vulnerable to abuse and exploitation, so they badly need facilities to keep the children safe. The Saheli creche works as a Day and Night creche.

Photo source: Saheli

The photo below is from my visit to the Saheli office. The woman in blue is Tejaswi, she is one of the social workers at Saheli, and she did most of the talking. That's me in the brown saree, listening to her. The girl in yellow is also a volunteer with Saheli. I have not posted photos of the sex workers that I met. Behind us are crates of condoms.

Walking through the brothels of Budhwar Peth was truly difficult. Even though we were escorted by one of the senior sex workers who worked at Saheli, I felt like an unwelcome intruder (which is exactly what I was). Being able to speak Marathi helped a little. I was at least able to sit down and talk to people, rather than just walk around staring.

During one of the chats, a brothel 'madam' gave me one of her big red bindis. She impulsively stuck it on my forehead (you can see it on the photo). I walked through the rest of the day feeling like I had been branded. In the bus back to Mumbai, I did not dare take the bindi off. It seemed as if by the act of taking it off, I was telling myself to forget Budhwar Peth. The bindi stayed stuck on my bathroom mirror for a year, reminding me of that dark world which 'respectable' women don't acknowledge.

- By Deepa Krishnan

I was walking along Dadar Kabootarkhana yesterday, and I spotted someone going from stall to stall, with the Goddess balanced on the head.

It is summer now, and this is the time of rashes and other skin ailments. Mari-aai, also called Mariamman, Renuka, Ekvira or Yellamma, is a major folk goddess in the Deccan/South India. She is very powerful - her wrath can bring disease, but she is equally capable of blessing people. She cures all ailments, especially the pox, she blesses the infertile with children, and brings prosperity to the village.

There are several temples to this powerful goddess in Maharashtra - but if you cannot make the journey to the temple, then "no problem" !! You can get the blessings of the goddess right where you are, because she comes a-visiting, assisted by nomadic intermediaries.

The person carrying the goddess was a hijra, a third gender person. In exchange for a few coins, many stall-owners at Kabootarkhana were receiving benedictions. Some were offering food products from their stall (fruits, lemonade, etc) instead of coins.

The Mariamman/ Renuka/ Yellama legend has particular relevance to the hijra community. The story begins with a Brahmin sage called Jamdagni. He ordered his sons to kill their mother Renuka, who he suspected of infidelity. Four of his five sons refused, and were burnt to ash. The fifth, the legendary hero Parasurama, agreed and beheaded his mother, but accidentally also beheaded another low-caste woman in the process. After the beheading, Jamdagni offered Parasurama a boon, and Parasurama asked for everyone to come back to life. His five brothers came back to life from the ashes, but they emerged as hijras. For the two women who were beheaded, Parasurama wrongly mixed up the heads and bodies, thus creating Brahmin-Untouchable hybrids. This is the origin of the Renuka-Mariamman entity. While Renuka in her changed form went back to her husband, Mariamman or Yellama remained behind to be worshipped by all. The hijra brothers also began to worship this goddes; so even today there are hijra priests in some Mariamman temples.

The photo below is from the temple at Sion-Koliwada, which I visited one evening. In this temple, the officiating priestess is a hijra, and several hijras live here. They speak Tamil, so I enjoyed my evening here, chatting and photographing.

To me, Mariamman is extremely powerful because she allows for social norms to be subverted and taboos to be broken. She also provides a place in society for those not strictly adhering to traditional gender boundaries. Here is another photo from the Koliwada temple, with a beautiful hijra holding the goddess trident.

The goddess goes by many names, and is worshipped in many forms. Typically there are animal sacrifices, as well as other less bloody offerings. Here is the Ekvira temple at Karla, which I visted a couple of years ago, and their sacrificial altar.

On the day we went, there were no sacrifices (we went right after a major festival day), but the remnants of the previous day's worship were still there. Typically chickens and goats are sacrificed to Ekvira.

For those who want to read more, I wrote something about the Mariamman festival that I attended some years ago at Dharavi, along with my mother. In that festival, the Andhra community made offerings of a gruel (kanji) made of ragi (millet), flavoured with neem leaves (for protection from disease). There were also sacrifices of chickens and goats.

Clearly this sort of folk culture is at great variance with the "high brahmin" version of Hinduism. And it makes many upper caste people uncomfortable. But this is what I believe gives Hinduism its diversity and uniqueness; that it amalgamates all these variants and allows you to pick and choose what you wish.

Often, when I spot goddess figurines in the market and I ask people about it, they only say "Devi", the Goddess. Sometimes they say Mata, sometimes Aai (both mean mother). To me it is proof that there is a fundamental sameness that Indian people understand instinctively. Whether Ekvira or Renuka or Mari-aai or Yellamma, whether Mumbadevi or Golphadevi, the message is clear - there is one Mother, and she is the energy source of all living things.

by Aishwarya Pramod

This Sunday, I went to see a children's play at Bharatiya Vidya Bhavan (Chowpatty). The play was called Taoos Chaman ki Myna, meaning "The mynah from the Peacock Garden".

I loved it. It was funny, witty, and extremely well-produced, with a mix of realistic and stylized scenes lending it a fairy-tale feel. And the music was great (my mom is still humming it).

Taoos Chaman ki Myna is based on a short story written by Naiyer Masud, an Urdu writer from Lucknow. The play is set in Lucknow during the mid-1800s. Wajid Ali Shah, the Nawab of Awadh, has a large cage full of beautiful mynahs in his garden in Qaisar Bagh. Kaley Khan is a poor employee in the Nawab's garden. The play follows the story of Kaley Khan and his family, and specifically, what happens when he steals one of the mynahs for his daughter, who has long been asking for one.

Lucknow in the background. Death of Kaley Khan's wife, with his daughter sorrowing.

The acting incorporated a lot of graceful dance-like movements and postures (Kathak, according to my mother), and the play almost became like a dance-drama.

Kaley Khan's first glimpse of Taoos Chaman's peacocks.
Outstanding choreography and imagination.

Newly arrived hill mynas are about to be released into the cage in the Nawab's garden.
Nawab Wajid Ali Shah comes to inspect, along with the British Resident

I loved the glimpse I got into Lucknow's culture - the story was peppered with references to the city of Lucknow - from major landmarks and historical figures to street foods and bird markets, havelis and Nawabi eccentricities.

It was presented by Gillo Theatre Repertory, which works exclusively in theatre for young audiences. I like the fact that Gillo focuses on showcasing Indian content. They have established a talented repertory of adult performers who perform exclusively for children.

The talented team at Gillo.
Dolly Thakore was there in the audience, she came up on stage and praised the group
... wah re celeb dekh liya B)

The hall was filled with children, most of whom had come with their parents. There was also a large group of schoolchildren with their teachers. I think the play definitely succeeded in delighting the kids :) The adults in the audience loved it too, going by their expressions and applause.

Now I'm looking for more of Naiyer Masud's stories, in Hindi.

Photo credit: Deepa Krishnan

- by Deepa Krishnan

These days we're doing a training / sensitization series at my office. It is a summer program for young people who work in the tourism industry in Mumbai.

We're discussing a wide range of topics - caste, gender, education, legal system, history, architecture, and so on. The idea is to help these students speak with some level of depth about these issues. They meet and interact with many tourists each month - so it is very useful for them.

I have myself also been enjoying these discussions on social, economic and political issues. And I'm looking forward to more of them. We have three interns this year, students from St Xavier's College (including my daughter Aishwarya!). They're helping to research topics and they're conducting the sessions. I'm the moderator, sort of.

There is lots of participation. I love the dynamics, and especially I love way learning works when there's discussion and fun, and most importantly, when everyone is sharing their own life experiences. I was glad to see the sort of questions that came up in the discussions on caste and gender. I'm learning lots of new stuff myself.

- By Deepa Krishnan

I took this picture of our neighbourhood poster guy, as he set up his pavement stall in the morning:

In one quick glimpse, I could figure out what people want to put up on their walls:
- Sai Baba of Shirdi
- Hindu gods and goddesses
- Bonny babies (including one baby + cell phone combo)
- Chhatrapati Shivaji
- Body builders
- Unrealistic Landscapes
- Bollywood movie stars

My favourite was this poster of Devi, showing the entire universe contained in her. It has such fantastic iconography, I stood there for a couple of minutes just trying to figure out everything that was going on. I wish I could meet the unknown artist, who put together this dazzling imagery of earth and its creatures, all the gods and indeed, the entire universe, contained in one form.

Here's a closer look at the lower half of the picture: what do you see? I see the natural world; elephants, fish, snakes, cows, swans; I see a thousand references to mythology, each one a complete legend in itself. I can't even begin to describe all of them. Amazing, to just find this on the street. This is what popular culture is about - there are no art curators, there is no knowledgeable prattle, and there are no fancy galleries with their rarified atmosphere. The market rewards the artist who best expresses what people want.

Here is a closer look at the upper half: the style tells me this was produced in the south of India, but I don't know where. If you click on it, you can see a larger version. The navagraha (nine planets) are represented in her eight arms and in her crown (the Sun God is in her crown). The entire universe is contained in her.

I looked more closely, and found that there were two names signed at the bottom: Siva and Jothi. I think Siva is the artist, and perhaps Jothi is the company that produced the poster? That spelling of Siva tells me this is likely from Tamil Nadu, where I see this spelling usually. Whoever it is, I hope they know they are appreciated!

-by Aishwarya Pramod

The Mumbai Metro began operations on June 8. Since it was a Sunday, lots of families came to check it out. There was a 500-metre long queue at Versova, with crowds waiting patiently for tickets.

This is just 1/8th of the queue!

Chaos reigned in many stations, but in certain places guards from Reliance assisted and directed people in getting off and on.

Train arrives at Andheri Station

The Mumbai Metro is nothing like Delhi... Check out the mad rush! People were pushing their way into the train even before those inside could come out. Perhaps in Mumbai, people are used to the crowds and rush of locals, and treat the metro in the same way.

When the ticket counters ran out of coupons, they started giving people chits of paper instead. Some people took their coupons home instead of returning them :)

But hopefully in the next few days the hoopla will settle down and people will learn how to board the Metro sensibly.

Photo credits: Trisha Roslin George, on her valiant camera phone.

- by Deepa Krishnan

A few years ago, I clicked this picture of Koli fisherwomen at the Null Bazaar fish market. It was still the monsoon season, but the ban on fishing was over and fresh local catch was coming to the market.

Koli women at their stalls in Null Bazaar

Traditionally the Kolis have a self-imposed ban on fishing in the monsoons; they stop when the rains make the waters too dangerous and rough, and they commence fishing again on Narli Purnima after offering prayers and a coconut (this year Narli Purnima falls on Aug 10).

But there is also an official government ban in place, primarily for fish stocks to recover. June to September is the spawning season for many species. Also the ban helps fish to grow bigger, thus realising higher value when the fish eventually come to market.

Larger catch sizes after the monsoons

Now for the complications: In India, marine resources are a State subject, so each state on the West Coast has a different policy in place. There are different periods of the ban, and also differences in the way the ban is implemented.

Maharashtra, Goa and Gujarat, have a complete ban; i.e. all types of boats are banned from going into the water. But Karnataka, Kerala and Daman allow traditional non-motorised boats to fish during the ban, as well as boats with small motors below a certain engine size.

Non-motorised and motorised boats, Worli Fishing Village, Mahim Bay. They must all be moored during the 2 month ban period in Maharashtra.

Gujarat, Maharashtra and Karnataka this year have fishing bans between June 10 and August 10 (2 months). However, Kerala and Goa have different dates. In Kerala, the ban is from June 1 to July 15, that is roughly 45 days. Fishing this year is banned in Goa between June 1 to July 31 (2 months). As a result of differences in the ban, there are routine complaints from fishermen that boats from neighbouring states are venturing into their waters. There is now a strong demand for a common fishing ban period.

Apart from the seasonal fishing ban, the fisheries departments also have rules restricting the total number of fishing boats, fishing methods and types of gear that can be used in backwaters and shallow inshore waters (some types of gear are particularly damaging to juveniles). Mesh sizes are regulated, and there are also species-wise minimum legal lengths for capture. In some areas, fishing is restricted; and in some other areas, fishing is completely banned as they are declared a Marine Protected Area.

Fisherman showing me catch using large mesh size, Worli

But many of these other restrictions / rules are not implemented in practice; and it is only the seasonal fishing ban which has been consistently implemented in India since the late 1980's. When the ban was initially implemented, studies of catch size and weight in the post-monsoon season showed the benefit of the bans; catch improved significantly. The introduction of seine fishing in the 80's, and its increasing popularity in the subsequent decade (when the fishing bans also came into effect), also helped increase fishing catch enormously.

Seine fishing, or purse-ring fishing. In this method, the boat quickly circles around a school of fish, drops the net, and then the noose is tightened like a purse-string. I clicked this photo in Bekal, Kerala, it is just near the Karnataka border.

In recent years, the catch has tapered off. The reason is not hard to guess: mechanised 'improved' trawling and seine fishing methods are destroying stocks; and even small motorboats have improved their techniques enough to bring in significant fish catches in the monsoons. I read an article recently in the Times, where someone in Goa complained that small boats were bringing in roe-laden mackerel, in the process of spawning.

The solutions are not very clear - it might help to have a longer ban period; consistently implemented across the West Coast, combined with a common set of rules for what types of vessels, gears, fish size etc are permitted. We need, especially, better rules for managing seine fishing and trawling, and we need better policing of the rules (difficult to implement). Alternative livelihood options for fisherfolk during the ban season is another area that needs attention.

I found a fantastic video made by the South Indian Federation of Fisheries, which shows fishing operations on the west coast (Kerala); I have never seen such a fantastic account of seine fishing. It shows how the catch is done, to the fisherman's cries and songs. But it also shows what is happening due to overfishing, and it suggests sustainable ways to manage ring seining. Do watch it.

- By Deepa Krishnan

Anyone who has been to Kala Ghoda knows the decrepit Esplanade Mansions, popularly called Watsons Hotel.

But not many know what the architects originally envisaged, or how the hotel looked in its heyday. Fewer still know the story of how the hotel was built - a story that begins in a small village in the north-west of England.

Here's the building today: you can easily spot the famous cast iron frame structure, still standing strong. But the building itself is in ruins. This is the side-view of the building:

Here is what this building was originally meant to be. See how gorgeous it looks in this painting! (If you click on the picture, you'll get a bigger view).

Photo credit: Castle Carrock

If you want to see this painting for real, you have to travel to Cumbria, to a little green village called Castle Carrock. The painting of Esplanade Mansions is hanging in their town hall. Here's what the village of Castle Carrock looks like; it has less than 500 people living in it.

Photo credit: Castle Carrock

The story of Esplanade Mansions actually begins in this little village. Like many good stories, this one also begins with a farmer :) His name was Watson.

The farmer had three sons, but two of them, John and William Watson, left Castle Carrock in the 1840's to start a drapery business in London, dealing in silks and other textiles.

From London, the two brothers migrated to Bombay in 1853. Bombay had developed into a major trading centre by that time; shipping was thriving, land had been reclaimed to expand the city, and links to the Deccan hinterland had been opened to facilitate trade. Perhaps the Watsons thought it made excellent business sense to relocate. I also have another pet theory about this migration to Bombay. Perhaps the Watson brothers attended the Great Exhibition of 1851 in London, at the Crystal Palace? Perhaps they were enchanted with the Indian textiles they saw? Surely the Indian Pavillion was a vision to delight any silk mercer and draper!

Whatever the reason for migration - the two brothers arrived in Bombay in 1853, and set up shop here. They must have struck gold in Bombay - because they soon had three shops here, at Churchgate Street, Hamam Street and Meadow Street. Apparently it still wasn't enough. Within just ten years of arriving in Bombay, the Watson brothers made a grand bid for yet another building site. The original plans submitted for the building included a shop front on the ground floor, offices on the first and second floors, and residences (for themselves, I presume) on the third floor.

The plans the Watsons submitted conceived of a bold new design - a cast iron frame that was modelled on the Crystal Palace, where the London exhibion was held. Nothing like it had been seen in India before. By 1865, the initial plans for a shop changed; and the Watsons decided to build a grand new 200-room hotel instead. But the cast iron girders remained in the plan. Although there were problems with having the designs approved, the Watsons persevered, and pushed through with their plan.

The design involved the import of hundred of cast iron girders. Arranged from top to bottom, these girders formed a sort of grand metal bird-cage. This sort of design actually exposed bare metal. It was in fact, the first multi-storey habitable building in the world in which all loads, including those of the brick walls, were carried on an iron frame. In that sense, it is the earliest pre-cursor to the modern-day skyscraper.

The crowning glory of the building design was a mansard - a type of roof that actually doubles up as a floor. The architects apparently wanted to cover the top with glass. It would have made a fantastic salon, eh? Or a really fancy penthouse suite for the who's who of Bombay's visitors.

The Watson brothers began to ship materials for the new building into Mumbai. By 1867, many of the materials had arrived; and assembly of the iron framework began on site. By 1869, the hotel was complete - BUT - that beautiful (and impractical) mansard was abandoned along the way. Maybe they ran out of money - or time.

Still, just look at this hotel below! What views of Bombay harbour! This photo is from the 1880s; the only other building at that time in the area was the Sailors' Home in the distance. The wide road you see is the Esplanade; and hence the name of the hotel.

http://www.oldindianphotos.in/2012/11/watsons-hotel-bombay-mumbai-c1880s.html

The patch of land on the right of the photo, by the sea, is where the Taj Mahal Palace and Towers eventually came up - but that was not until 1903. Before that, for more than 30 years, Watsons Hotel was the numero uno establishment in the city. Mark Twain stayed here; Kipling wrote about it, and the earliest screening of the Cinematographe in India by the Lumiere Brothers was in this hotel (just one week after it was first screened in Paris).

Of the two brothers, John and William Watson, we know this: William quit the drapery business to become a shipping agent. John Watson remained in the drapery and hotel business; but he returned to the village of Castle Carrock in 1869, just after Watsons Hotel was built. His sons, James Proctor and John Jr, inherited and ran the hotel successfully, until they too returned to Cumbria in 1896 (at the time of Bombay's bubonic plague).

With the owners gone, and with competition from new hotels such as Green's, Majestic, and the Taj, the birdcage hotel went into decline. In 2006, the World Monument Fund placed the hotel under the list of World Endangered Monuments.

Here's a recent photo I clicked; can you see the beautiful Minton floor tiling? The iron girders are still standing strong. The inside of the hotel has been divided up and sub-let to lots of small businesses. Next time you're in the area, pop into the building and take a quick look. And if you want a little challenge, then try to spot the Watsons logo on the outside of the building!

- By Deepa Krishnan

Yesterday I addressed a group of 25 girls from the University of Washington's Foster School of Business. They were here on a Women’s Leadership and Entrepreneurship program. It's called "Half the Sky", and it inspires students to make a difference through meetings with leaders and role models all over India. Most of them are from the MBA program, but there are also a couple of students from other streams.

The students are going to be in India for a month, studying women’s leadership, and learning about "social enterprises" that create business solutions to poverty and environmental issues. Apart from meeting lots of women in India, the group is also spending time with non-profits, learning about specific issues first-hand, and working with the non-profits on problem-solving recommendations.

We spent an hour together, and I spoke about my life, my beliefs, decisions that I made along the way, and why I am happy with what I am doing. We discussed the Mumbai Local tour, and how it is designed to be socially relevant and at the same time, financially viable. I spoke also about creating a tour company that was inherently 'responsible', where social good is in the DNA of the company, and CSR is not just an afterthought or a cash handout at the end of the year. It was informal and fun, I enjoyed it enormously, mainly because I connected with the girls, and didn't have to watch my mouth :)

The 'Half the Sky' program is the baby of Cate Goethals, consultant and professor, and wearer of many interesting hats. She has been coming to India since 2010 with this program, and it's always a pleasure meeting her. We posed for photos after the speech.

After this, I said goodbye, and the group went on a tour of the city, with the guides from the Mumbai Local program. I spoke to Cate today, and she said they all enjoyed the tour very much. Here are a couple of photos from the tour: one of the group at VT, and the other in the lobby of the hotel, with the Mumbai Local guides.

We've been doing this sort of thing for the last couple of years. Here's a collage of images from Cate's visit last year:

And here's one from their visit the year before that!

This is a great program, with bright and motivated groups of students visiting India each year. I wish them all the best and hope they go on to become inspiring leaders and role models for the women of the future. Some of the girls this year came up to me and asked if I could be their mentor. Mentorship is a big word - but I think working women everywhere need to share our lives and our stories. Especially, we need to share the difficulties. Speaking the truth, admitting the mistakes you've made, and being confident in stating what you've achieved - this is the most valuable form of mentorship. Too many women - especially in India - tend to be self-deprecating. We need to come out and celebrate our achievements too.

- by Deepa Krishnan

Did you know? These punched BEST tickets are now history. These days you get a modern version, like a credit card slip. I got this photo of the old-style tickets 5 years ago, when I went on a bus ride from Sion to VT. The conductor punched them for me. Against the green colour of the seat, the tickets made for a great photo.

I don't know if these old tickets are completely phased out, but it sure looks like they're on their way out :-( What a pity. They were so interesting! And they've been around for ages, with so many codes and markings on them! Here are all the things on the old ticket and what they meant:

1) On top in black, you can see the Serial number of the ticket

2) Below that, there is the BEST logo and it says: Parivahan Upakram - which means Transport Undertaking

3) In the centre is the fare plus 'adhibhar' (surcharge); in this ticket its Rs 9.85 + 15p surcharge. The surcharge has been around for 3 decades now and BEST donates this money to the state government. In response to a Public Interest Litigation, the state clarified in 2007 that the money is being spent on nutrition schemes for children, pregnant women, and new mothers. From April 1975 to July 2006, this has amounted to Rs 321.8 crores of donations.

4) In the centre there is a vertical line, and it is used to mark special or concessionary classes of ticket - Baalak (child), Khaas (special), Saamaan (luggage), Jod (valid with something else, additional ticket)

5) Punching system - On the left there is a series of numbers, from 1 to 26, this shows the stops on the route (onward). There is a similar set of numbers on the right, those are the stops on the return route. The conductor will punch the stop that you are going to get down at.

6) Right at the bottom we have 'Bruhmumbai Vidyut Purvatha Ani Parivahan Upakram' - Bombay Electric Supply and Transport Undertaking.

7) And below that it says something like "Niyamanusar something something ticket" I can't read that bit clearly.

Anyone who knows more, please correct me!

The new ticket is here, in case you want to have a look.

- By Deepa Krishnan

I had a fabulous time at the Girgaum Chowpatty Visarjan this year. Actually it took me completely by surprise, because they have enforced a STRICT ban on drums and noise.

I went there expecting to be deafened by the noise. In fact, I even bought ear-plugs! But in spite of the thousands and thousands of people, there was no crazy noise. There were no big drums and no clang-clang-clang to burst the eardrums. The processions were colourful and full of tamasha, there were people singing with small cymbals and chanting "Ganpati Bappa Morya! Pudhchya Varshi Laukar Ya!". But we did not go deaf with the noise!

At a couple of places there were horrible loudspeakers, where sponsors were distributing free drinks and food, and they thought that gave them the right to shout over the speakers. But overall, it was not an assault on the ears. The police have a very major presence and are very helpful to direct people and maintain crowd control.

This is our group, at Chowpatty Beach. Here also, at the beach, there was good 'bandobast' by the police, with CCTV cameras and several policemen on the ground. There was a separate entry area, a separate exit, and separate lanes for big and small Ganesh idols. The police were directing the flow of people and trucks.

I also went to Lalbaug, where unfortunately the noise levels were incredible and it was impossible to stay for any amount of time. But I saw Lalbaug cha Raja and many others going in big processions here, lots of singing, dancing, gulal and band-baaja.

There are lots more photos here on my facebook page: Ganesh Visarjan 2014 Mumbai Magic

Santacruz Market Walk

"Touched by Bhupen"

David Sassoon - from Baghdad to Bombay

At the India NonFiction Festival - Crime and Politics, served up in a heady brew

Three hours at the Kala Ghoda Festival 2014 (phew)

The Mumbai Double Decker Bus

Karela chips - Bitter-Batter-Better!

Turichya Shenga - a winter delight

Dharavi Art Room

Kamathipura through Olwe's eyes

Mariaai, the Goddess of the people (also called Renuka, Yellamma, Mariamman, Ekvira)

Taoos Chaman ki Myna

Teaching and Learning

In which I learn about popular culture

Metro ya Local?

Fishing ban in the monsoons

Finding Watson's Hotel in a sleepy Cumbrian village

"Half the Sky" - University of Washington Foster School of Business

The old BEST bus ticket

Ganesh Visarjan 2014 - a great experience at Girgaum Chowpatty