“What is there to do in Mumbai?” I came across this question when I was introduced to a family friend in rather unusual circumstances. I thought about this quite a bit. Culturally, everyone gets a bit Hindu-Muslim when you mentioning alcohol, random social interaction between the sexes, and going out late to bars and clubs is a no-no yaar. So what do I suggest to someone who’s staying here for a few weeks. I was stumped. We just happened to be in a rather trendy part of Mumbai. Thus far, I’ve been staying away from all the swag that this city has to offer, namely for my sanity, also because I hate the disparity, and I’m also on a freaking budget. I was pressed to ask my cousin the very same question, and we got onto the topic of bars and food.
There’s no shortage of amazing food establishments in Mumbai. To start our evening off we went to a small canteen restaurant in an area of Bandra called Reclamation. The place is a hive through the lunch hours consisting of rich debutantes, rich kids, rich… okay, so basically Richie Rich and family visits this place. It was decent food, and an amazing amount of variety, but the place grew old after our third visit. I don’t know if I enjoyed many things from the menu aside from a drink called a Bombay Blue. call them amazing! But it’s extremely with cute 1960s branding, a huge variety of pastries and rolls stuffed with an Indian flare, and needless to say a lot of eye-candy.
Craving something different and offbeat, a completely cultural cliché, we ventured along a few streets to an area called Palli Hills in our hopes to discover real Mumbai. The Beverly Hills of Mumbai seemed a bit cutesy so we decided to bring some fun to the scene. We were tired. We were bored. And we wanted wodka. Yah. Wodka. I approached a few people at a nearby Café Coffee Day, and asked where we could find some sharaabi, with locals pointing us to the mainland. So we grabbed a couple of auto-rickshaws and went into town looking for some fun passing by countless paanwalas, who guided us along the way further and further, my cousin Viraj making sure to be 101% sure that we were making our way to the right spot. We even came across some amazing artwork, a string of green lights adorning a pair of clay pots which most probably held water in them. Some sacred, amazing things, I have never seen in my life. Even my cousins the locals were somewhat shocked at this ornate shrine to water for passersby to take a sip along the long and winding Palli Hills.
We finally took a rickshaw from the beach to the West side looking for a place called Toto’s Garage. Amazing! This place was a retro-bar with the feel of a garage complete with servers in jumpsuits. Old school Aerosmith, a VW Beetle on top of the bar, several chain link fences dividing the room up into smaller rooms, complete with kitsch flown in from the Midwest strewn about to give you the feel of a genuine American bar reminiscent of Billy Joel’s uptown girl.
Having had a few wodkas, gene, and byeer (which is surprisingly expensive in Mumbai—fucking taxes!), we stumbled out hoping to catch a rick’ home. As I ate some paan (a big Mumbai delicacy after a big meal) we had an old lady come and sit directly across the street. She carried with her a peti (harmonium) and was accompanied by her grandson, not older than 7. She sat down, and began playing for us a rendition of You Are My Sunshine with the boy and we were completely struck with a feeling that Yeh Hein Mumbai. Aamchi Mumbai. Anyway you try to say it, it’s truly impossible to capture in a thought. This is the beauty of Mumbai.
