Mumbai Coffee House

The barber shop traditionally was a  man's last bastion of serenity. A place away from domestic chores and feminine wiles. A place to talk about man stuff. The barber often multi-tasking as a shrink. My genes tell me that haircuts are one thing that I don't need to set aside money for in my retirement fund. A few more haircuts and soon that's one thing that won't need to be ticked on the to do list. Which is how I explain spending a ridiculously high amount for haircuts.  I don't know if I want to name the place I go to. Simply because I am sure they would like folks with thicker manes to be their brand ambassadors.  It's an airy, glass and chrome place, young folks in black, lounge music that I recognize from the gym.    There are no barbers here. There are stylists. I had a 'stylist' for the last couple of years. S was the exact  opposite of the swarthy barbers of yore. Over time our conversations became interesting. T...

Bumped into a few Bangladeshis at Sydney's Miller Street. They were talking in Bengali and I asked them for directions in Bengali. We began to talk. Turned out they were at the 'Uni'. On hearing I was from India, they asked me if I was from Kolkata. Mumbai, I replied without thinking. Got a bit philosophical when I left them. Where am I from?

I saw a tweet at 2 am a couple of nights back. A friend tweeted saying that people were throwing stones on the streets of Bandra and that she had a scary ride home. Soon there were others tweeting about 'riots/ stone throwing' on the streets of Bandra and Khar and asked people to stay home. Some wondered about the relevance of asking people to 'stay home' at 2 AM. But this is Mumbai. I retweeeted some of these tweets too. Then I switched on the TV. All the English news channels were showing repeats from the Grammy Award ceremonies from earlier in the day. Even the ticker didn't mention the stone throwing incidents. Ditto for Aaj Taak, the only Hindi channel I could think of. This was twenty minutes after the tweets started. No surprises that the newspapers didn't mention this the next morning. But 2 AM was well after papers were put to bed. I guess news travels fastest on social networks these days. Within that, possibly on Twitter. I didn't see a ment...

This is an e that I got from a twitter friend who only DM's or e's me. Interesting perspective "Really nice to read about your pleasant experiences at good ole Candy's. I witnessed something peculiar a few days ago - was on my way back into town, decided to stop at (big) Candy's & buy a cup of coffee to keep me awake on the drive home. A young lad, possibly in his late 20s - girlfriend in tow, literally shouted at the guy behind the counter. Why? Because they had run out of the items he wanted to order. Reached a point where I thought he might actually jump over the counter and molest the staff. Funny how Bandra has changed. Wasn't like this less than 4 years ago. Ah well, proof that I am indeed, an old fart. Cheerio'"  K: Well, that makes it two of us. When the crowd at Candies gets too much, I walk away. You can't hang them for their popularity

I went to my first Tweetup last night. It was a Mumbai Twitter's meet. From what I understand, a Tweetup is when folks who Tweet meet up, talk in real life, eat and drink, largely Dutch. No agenda. Hopefully. The hash tag was #5s . It was at 5 Spice, Bandra . As close to home as it gets for a chronically lazy socialiser. Problem was that I was done in by Mumbai's freezing winter (apparently hit the sub 20s. Centigrades). I doubted that I could croak out even 140 characters. So I stayed home and ordered Green Thai Curry from Thai Baan . The only folks in Mumbai apart from Thai Pavilion to make a half decent Thai curry . I sat at home chatting with K and a friend. My heart was at 5 Spice as I kept scanning the tweets on the tweetup. Then this flashed from @TalkorTweets @finelychopped hey there is a popular request for u to be at this tweetup guys want to meet even if you are feeling sick. I had to go. I donned a jacket though I couldn't find my muffler or monkey...

Met a Social Media friend from Delhi for the first time last weekend. We met up at Gloria Jean's, Bandra, for a short while. A place which he confessed to love. I like Gloria Jean's too. As does my wife and many others. I pass the road in front of Gloria Jean's on the way to work everyday. At times I try to grab a bite in the car and sip a juice as I am not the sort who wants the worm in any case. Problem is that I have to wait for the stretch to get over before I start eating. Its pot holes and pockmarks would make the food somersault in your tummy. Never a good idea. I was hoping that they would fix it when Obama came to Mumbai. Then he flew down to South Mumbai and we were left with audacious hope. Most of the houses at Bandra resemble the road that I described - old, damp walls, peeling paint, tired plumbing, pre-liberalisation flooring, badly planned, dark, dank and small. Yet, here are some interesting things I found out through hearsay. My friend who lives at G...

I miss the good old days of a DD antenna and a booster antenna for Bangladesh TV. Or even the cable wallahs whose office you could go to. Scream and rant and get technicians if something went wrong. I don't want a satellite dish service which teaches me supreme patience and tolerance. I don't want a satellite dish service which prepares me for the worst that life can throw at me. I don't want a satellite dish service which prepares me for failure, being ignored, being dumped. I don't want to be grounded. My TV rights taken away. I thought I'd grown beyond that. I don't want a satellite dish service which doesn't work. Which takes my complaint. Gives me a booking number and a date three days later. Followed only by a SMS that my 'complaint is closed'. Asks me for feedback on their service, which I never experienced. Y for Yes. N for No. And if you text N then the reply is 'invalid service'. I want my MTV.