Written in a hurry on Friday

Ghosh, my temporary flatmate, waved away my queries about the meaning of ‘Brihanmumbai’ with an airy, “When they changed the name to Mumbai they didn’t want to call them the ‘MMC’ and ‘MEST,’ so they just made the B in Bombay Municipal Corporation and the Bombay Electricity and State Transport (or whatever it stands for) stand for Brihanmumbai!

I got here last Saturday, and really haven’t seen too much of Bombay yet.

The flat I’m staying in is in a place called Parel, and I’m interning in a law firm on the 23^rd floor of a big building in Nariman Point, which is as far south as Bombay goes and which seems to be a sort of Manhattan. There is no equivalent office area in Delhi. Parel is far enough south to be considered not a suburb, which means that (a) there are no autos, only taxis (and local trains), and (b) there’s nothing to do in Parel. In the sense that if I want to order home from McDonald’s, or Domino’s, or something, I can’t. Apparently all the things I’m used to seeing as part of city life, like mechanics, shops, barbers, pool parlours, private vehicles, and even autorickshaws, exist only in Bombay suburbia, in places with names like Bandra (pronounced like a phirang would say it, not ‘Bundhra’ like I did), Juhu, Vile Parle and Andheri. Speaking of odd pronunciations, I called Worli ‘Wa-ra-li’ to Ghosh yesterday, and he said it’s actually pronounced ‘Whirly.’ Are these guys Indians or what?

Oh wait – digression: I’m currently watching the video for the Kaiser Chiefs’ great song ‘Ruby’ on VH1, for the first time ever. I’m not impressed! They look like idiots. Whereas, just before this, I saw the video for the Arctic Monkeys’ ‘Brianstorm,’ and it was very well done! Cool dancing in the background.

Anyway, some strange things about Bombay:

1. It’s wedge-shaped, with the narrow end at Nariman Point and the sea. There are 3 train lines running in the same general direction, north-south. There are fixed routes to places, meaning that everyone takes pretty much the same arterial roads to wherever they’re going. That’s just asking for traffic jams.

1. There are no autorickshaws in south Bombay.

1. Instead, there are quaint Premier Padmini black-and-yellow taxis that are terrifically cheap by the taxi standards I’m used to. They’re as slow as a bullock-cart, but for short distances that’s okay.

1. Parel is a Shiv Sena stronghold.

1. Marathis are short. I’m almost a head taller than most people on the roads!

1. They do do a decent job of city administration, though. Except when it rains.

1. The term ‘bhaiyya’ is an insult in Bombay. It’s taken to mean ‘Bihari brother.’ As I normally say ‘bhaiyya’ far more frequently than I do ‘bhai-saheb,’ this is proving to be a bit of a problem for me. My accent is so poor, though, that I feel the taxi drivers realise that I’m not intentionally insulting them.

1. There are some cheap roadside shacks that serve good food and beer. Reminds me of Goa. It must be a west coast thing.

1.  Busy junctions in south Bombay have roads made of a sort of tile, which is cheap and can be easily replaced, rather than asphalt. That’s very smart thinking.

In other news, work sucks. I’m finding it very hard to get any lawyers to give me anything substantial to do, and I’m not helped by having four fellow interns in the same situation. Nevertheless, I’m taking full advantage of the firm’s policy of free dinner of your choice and a cab ride home if you stay at work past 9 30. I haven’t left work before 10 so far. This is made possible by the fact that work begins only at 10 30 a.m., officially!

In other other news, I’m not well today (yesterday, by the time you read this.) They sent me home from work in the afternoon when they saw me taking a couple of Crocin. Thus I finally have time to put together a hotch-potch post. I’ve also gotten a bad chest infection and I know from experience that nothing will dislodge it as long as I continue smoking. Hence, I haven’t smoked today. Let’s see if I can push it for a few more days.

Oh the rains – they’re not bad at all, touch wood. The day I arrived was heavily rainy, and I had a spot of trouble getting to Ghosh’s flat because of flooded routes. But since then it’s been raining only at night, if at all. Drizzles don’t count. Touch wood touch wood touch wood touch wood!

This weekend there’s a party plan with Pathrose, Rupam, Soumya, Sachin, and other assorted Stephanians living in Bandra. I hope it materialises…

PS Don’t believe people who say (a) taxis in Bombay don’t fleece you, and (b) taxis in Bombay always agree to go wherever you want. I got ROYALLY gypped the day I arrived at the airport—so badly gypped that I try not to think about it. And for some short rides, the only way to get a taxi to go is to turn his meter on (they’re on the passenger side of the bonnet, outside the cars, for some reason – possibly this!), after which he’s compelled to go or pay the fare out of his pocket.

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Edit: On Saturday night, I saw Die Hard 4.0. My first Die Hard movie. I had a great time! The moves in action movies are not meant to be analysed and compared with what is physically possible. The helicopter and flyover scenes near the end had me guffawing and pointing away!

Edit2: Work has been picking up. Hurrah! But now it’s slowed down again, which is why I have time to post this.