Magical Mumbai V: Afghan Church, Colaba

On my way back from Deccan Odyssey, I had a day to myself in Mumbai and blessed that I am, was fondly invited by our family friends to come over and spend the day with them at Colaba. I had never been to anyone’s house in Colaba that I am told is the best place to live in Mumbai, and I must say it cannot be more true. You are at the tip of the city, see beautiful views of the city’s skyline against the ocean, see the ships passing by from your balcony, have almost no pollution and the town is just a small walk able distance away.

On my way to Colaba, I saw this handsome church called Afghan Church. The narrow tall structure was definitely 19th CE and hence inviting, so after soaking in the fresh air at Colaba sea face I went to see this church and since it was not a Sunday I expected it to be closed. I had already noticed its exceptionally high spiral that I was later to discover was a condition to allow the building of this church, the spiral was supposed to be an indication for the sailors heading this way. The next thing that caught my eye was the massive recessed arch doorway that looked majestic even though not in the best of the state. I looked around and read a notice on the board that told me that the foundation of this church was laid in 1847 and it was completed in 1858 while the spire was completed in 1865 and it was only in 1995 that the building was declared a heritage building. A man sitting there was quietly observing us and when we asked him if it is possible to go inside the church and see it, without saying anything he got up and opened the door for us. 

It is a beautiful church from inside as well, built in the typical Gothic style. High vaulted ceilings, with stained glass windows on the walls and at the altar give away the timeline and patrons of the church. Since we were the only ones, it felt a bit surreal, but it gave me ample time and space to absorb the building. A marble plaque in a wall tells that the church was built in the memory of innumerable soldiers who lost their lives in the battle of Sind and Afghan in 1838-43 and hence the church is popularly known as Afghan Church though the official name is The church of St John the Evangelist. 

By this time our man carried a not so happy impression on his face and I asked what happened and he said why did you come inside with your shoes on. I said, I never thought that you cannot take shoes inside the church, neither is there a notice saying ‘No Shoes’, but if this was the case, you should have told me. He said it does not matter weather shoes are allowed or not. Question is do you go to your temple with shoes, to which I said No. He said, “If you do not go to your God’s home with shoes, do you think you should go to other’s God’s home with shoes on?” He had a point and he had me thinking. Should you treat God the way that God’s religion demands or should you treat each God like the one you believe in? 

I clicked some pictures, was happy to have seen another heritage structure and came out smiling to see another church in the same area, still pushing back my neck to see the tip of the spire.

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Mesmerizing Madhya Pradesh IX –Bhagoria Haat, Vaalpur

Bhagoria Haat or market as it is locally known, has no fixed venue. For seven days prior to Holi, different villages play venue to Bhagoria haat. You can check the local newspapers for the information on this. First village that we went to was Vaalpur, located almost at the Gujarat border. As we reached the village around noon, it was already full of colorful young people. First thing that struck us were the groups of young women who were all dressed in same color and style and wore identical silver jewellery. Each group has its own color – black, blue, red, green, violet, orange sometimes a combination of two colors. Most of them wore the same jewellery – heavy, solid silverware wore their dupattas the same way and seem to carry the same expression as well.

It took us some time and effort to search for the group of boys or potential grooms who should be out to woo the girls. There were not many groups, but the ones who came, came in style, all dressed up in dhotis and designer flutes. They flaunted their flutes both to showcase the exquisite designs on them and to probably announce their single and available status. It was fun to interact with them, as they wanted to speak but were shy at the same time. For a long time we just saw these groups roaming around in bunches, looking at each other, but we did not see any action. After we sat back as sheer observers, we saw some color exchange happening, some boys did apply color on the girls while the girl tried to run away or avoid the color. One of us also saw a girl accepting a Paan from a boy, which as per the local ritual means, that girl accepts the boy’s proposal. What happened after that is impossible to know unless we parked ourselves there for few days?

The atmosphere was a typical village haat with Halwais ruling the roost. There were all kinds of shops from clay pots to silver ware, tattoo artists to toys, fruits to vegetables, but it was the sweet and savory shops that were the busiest. There were a small area with giant wheels – the old fashioned wooden ones that are pushed manually along with other swings and games. The colorful sharbats were being sold, as were Kulfis and Ice creams. People were purchasing usual home stuff and enjoying the rides and the crowds. For women, it seemed it was one of those few rare occasions when they can get dressed up and come out and enjoy themselves, as we saw most of them in women only groups.

On the day we were there, the MP of the region landed there too along with his wife on a helicopter and there was a beeline to see the helicopter land and take off. Helipad became the biggest attraction while the helicopter was there and the people were lined all around it. The MP came, played the Dhol, danced a little bit with the locals, met us over light snacks and told us all about the progress the tribal area is making specially in girl education. We were told about a major residential school that is coming up soon. 

Overall it was the festivity in the air along with whole lot of dust that defined the day. How many people actually lost their single status that day will never be known as most people deny the ritual now.

Majestic Maharashtra I: Deccan Odyssey – An Experience

One fine day, earlier this year I got an invite from Maharashtra Tourism to join them on a week long journey on the ultra luxury train appropriately called Deccan Odyssey. Train was to go around Maharashtra and Goa while you stay on-board for 7 nights and do the sight seeing during the day. I had already seen destinations like Ajanta, Ellora, Goa but Kolhapur, Sindhudurg & Nasik were new to me. So on the Holi day I landed in Mumbai to empty streets with colorful people and reached CST station platform no 18, to board the train.

It was pleasant surprise to see a festival like atmosphere with ladies in traditional Maharashtrian attire welcoming the guests, live music playing on the platform and the professionalism with which the luggage was handled, boarding pass presented and guests ushered in elegantly upholstered interiors of this royal purple colored luxury train. Little did I know that this would repeat at every railway station that we land at for next 7 days! A neat cabin with en-suite bathroom, with a large glass window was to be my home for next 8 days. As I pulled the window curtains, I knew that this is going to be my window from a palace to the India across the miles that we travel. The contrast was visible as soon as I saw the outskirts of Mumbai CST station, and this contrast took many hues over next few days. 

The train is designed to treat its guests like royalty, as it must have existed in the days of forts and palaces that they are taken to during the trip. Two restaurants fueled by two kitchens served the meals, handled by the proficient kitchen staff of Taj group. A bar with lavender colored furniture was inviting as it can get. A conference room cum games room but library cum concert hall was a place that could be refurbished with a bit of moving around for various purposes. One evening we had a live Hindustani classical concert and it was an experience to hear live music where the movement of train provided its own rhythm. The last evening on train, this coach was transformed into a discotheque with everyone on-board dancing to the loud music and the train movement topping the moves with its jerks. There was a gym, a beauty parlor, a spa and a business center to take care of all your potential needs. Each coach had a small lounge area for people to sit and chat over Chai. Despite the entire infrastructure, it was the caring attitude of the staff that stands out in the whole experience. The butlers were someone we all wanted to take back home with us. Kitchen staff established a personal connect and would go an extra mile to make sure that you would remember each meal. They even shared the recipe of the couple of dishes that I drooled over. 

As the train used to be parked at some small stations and we had our gourmet meals in the luxurious restaurants on board, it was the contrast inside and outside the train that kept coming back to me. Sometimes we had hilarious moments when people used the one way glass as mirror and admired themselves without realizing we are looking at them. This is when we came closest to observing a man spending time with himself, conversing with himself through various expressions, checking out his hairstyles, his teeth, his face from various angles. This is probably how a man expresses love to himself by admiring himself in a mirror, by reading his own face and by crafting a look for the rest of the world. Then there were children and women peeping in and wondering what kind of a train it is. At one of the stations I got down to meet a friend, accompanied by the butler in red uniform, and the questions that came our way were hilarious and at the same time insightful. At innumerable places, from the lap of luxury, we saw amazing landscapes, beautiful sunsets, waterfalls, fields and sometimes-absolute filth. It was the metaphor of sitting in an ivory tower coming alive. 

At another level, I was one of the very few Indians amongst the guests who came from literally all corners of the world. I could meet and connect with few of them, and as I am going through their business cards and looking at their websites, I feel so very enriched to have met them, as most of them are achievers in their own way. Did I mention that since you are restricted within the train limits as it moves between destinations, you do get ample time to spend with fellow travelers and I would not be surprised if many business deals are stuck on the move? MTDC, you may want to track this…:-)

Do I recommend this ultra-luxury train trip – Well, I would say, if you can afford it, this may one of the few opportunities available to experience the royalty and richness of India in its full grandeur and style. No doubt, it comes at a cost, but at the end you will cherish the experience and memories crafted for the rest of your life.

Thank you MTDC for giving me this lovely experience.

Go Goa II: Mario Miranda’s Goa

I have visited Goa off and on, sometimes for work; sometimes for pleasure and it is always a relaxing feeling to be here. This time I was there for 2 days as part Deccan Odyssey journey and  I got to see some news aspects of Goa like Mangeshi Temple, Safa Masjid and Sahakari Spice farm that I had not visited earlier. I also got to see the mundane Goa as a tourist, its vegetable markets and its various railway stations as we boarded on and off the train. This time while in Goa I slept in the Train instead of one of the Goa Hotels. I could see a stamp of Mario Miranda, Goa’s famous son of the soil cartoonist.

At the vegetable market the huge walls had scenes, well from the same place.

You cannot miss the tourists even at the vegetable and fish market.

At the Railway station walls, there were some trains of thoughts that leave you thinking about this city.

The tourism department is tuned in too with the theme…

I am not sure how many of these are original and how many inspired, but it is good to see a city celebrating its people, its art forms. It is like being inspired from inside....

Mesmerizing Madhya Pradesh VIII –Bhagoria Festival, Jhabua

When I received an invite to attend this festival, I had no clue what this festival is and where Jhabua is, but thanks to Google, I could quickly find out the details and grabbed the opportunity to attend this festival with both hands. The literature mentioned it as a festival where young tribal boys express their love to girl of their choice and if she accepts it, they elope away, till their families negotiate and agree to get them married once they come back. Now, would you not be excited to see how these boys in the most public place in rural areas propose, how girls react and how it is accepted as a ritual. Of course the festivity of Bhil tribes just before the festival of Holi was added attraction. The photographs added to the weight of the invitation, and here I was adjusting all my schedules, working late night to meet deadlines so that I can spend 4 days in Jhabua district in Madhya Pradesh.

Landed in Indore, made a pit stop at Ujjain and paid a visit to the reigning deity of the city Mahakaal and drove through dusty roads, dry arid hillocks to reach Jhabua by end of the day. M P Tourism organized a film show to tell us about the festival that has been filmed over many years during the festival by an independent photographer. Let me share what I learnt through the film and the literature first. In the popular parlance, the name Bhagoria refers to Bhag that could mean run away or elope, basically a time when boys run away with the girls they like. Another legend is that the first hero and heroine of this festival were Bhav and Gauri i.e. Shiva and Parvati and this is how the festival gets its name. A third legend is that king of Bhagore conquered this area and allowed men in his army to elope with the girls they fell in love at the haat or market that takes place before the Holi festival. Since then over a period of time, it became a tradition that continues in some ways till date. 

The timing of the haat just before the Holi is not just co-incidental, of course Holi is a big festival for the region. This is also the time when most people get money for their work and have extra cash to spend at the market, this is the time when everyone comes back home from wherever they are in the world. So it makes great sense to get married or get your children married at this point in time. Now, how much of this tradition still remains is anyone’s guess. We did see boys and girls all dressed up in the fair, we did see boys putting color on the girls as a gesture of proposal and we did see girls taking Paan or betel leaf from boys as a gesture of accepting the proposal. But how much of this is accepted in the society is something very difficult to find out. We spoke to a lot of people and we got different versions of truth about the tradition of marrying at Bhagoria festival.

My analysis based on what I read, heard and saw is that at some point in time this may have been one of the few opportunities that boys and girls got to meet and express themselves, and some of them may have used this as an opportunity to elope, which over a period of time became an accepted norm or a ritual.

What actually happens at the fair comes up in another post…

Travel Stories VI: Meeting the World War II Soldier

This was an evening after a long day in Aug 2012 and I was roaming in the Krakow’s old town area in Poland, one of those unstructured times during travels, where you aimlessly roam observing and absorbing in the place. We suddenly saw some old soldiers marching past in their full army getup and reaching what looked liked some kind of a memorial. Curiously we followed them and requested our Polish guide to help us converse with these charming gentlemen. She graciously obliged and here we were talking to Mgr Wtodzimierz Wowa Brodecki, who was a young participant in World War II.

Looking smart and handsome in his crisp army uniform with all his medals proudly shining on his chest, with his head still looking upwards, he was more than alert at 88 than anyone else around. He was the center of attraction and posed smilingly for every camera and everyone who wanted to be clicked with him. Once done with the formalities of the event, that it seems was well covered by the local press, he started telling us the stories. He said he was a part of a Cavalry unit and hence rode horses. He carried with him a photo album, that showed him on the horse at various places in Europe, and this turned out to be the most interesting story. After he retired, every year he would ride the horse to one of the places where war took place and pay homage to soldiers who died there. These pictures chronicled his homage paying journeys for many many years. One of the pictures was taken at the very place we were standing, just a few years back. I took pictures of his pictures to be able to tell his story to you.

Lack of common language kept the conversation in check, we found out that he was keen to share the stories of Indian soldiers who had fought during the war and whom he had met. After some thousand photographs and brief interrupted conversations as we were saying Good Byes, Major told us that his mother in law runs a guesthouse in case we needed a place to stay in Krakow. My first thought was ‘You are 88, how old must be your mother-in-law?’ but then I quickly realized that your mother-in-law’s age need not be related to your age and whatever her and your age may be, you must always work for her…:-)

This was one of the meetings that would always stay with me in my memory.