Showing posts with label Visiting India. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Visiting India. Show all posts

Sunday, 9 August 2015

Capturing Mumbai at Sunrise - Live from Marine Drive

It’s 7 am. The air feels cool. Mumbai’s pride; Marine Drive, is awake and alive. The broad promenade stretches along the Arabian Sea. In the evening, the shining lampposts form a necklace, the Queen’s Necklace as they call it.  Beautifully rounded, accompanied by the waves that steadily hit the rocks. But it’s early morning now, the sun is about to rise and break through the morning mist. A faint breeze strokes my chin as I listen to the ever present Mumbai crows.

To the north, the skyline stretches towards the sky, mostly made by the high-risebuildings offancy Malabar Hills. They seem quite a distance away behind a haze of mist, or smog as it might well be. I turn around and my gaze falls on the Air India building, who has become my landmark. Tall hotels together with ordinary corporate buildings form the Northern skyline. People come to work here, but right now, people come to walk.

They walk alone, or in pairs. In long strides, and short strides. The men, retired perhaps – in their white, big jogging shoes. Loose trousers, shirts with rolled up sleeves. Some stroll along leisurely, some walk briskly. They walk the talk. Old colleagues, neighbours, brothers, friends. Twos and threes, sometimes in fours.

Then there is the retired couples; the women in their salwar kameez and a woollen cardigan on top of it. It’s still cool for a Mumbaikar. The wide trousers flutter around old legs above big shoes. Good shoes. They don’t talk, there is no need. They walk. Before the sun emerges and makes walking unbearable. Some wear track suits, swinging their arms energetically from side to side.

An old woman walks towards me, she is wearing a burka. She sits down next to me, breathes heavily. She seems distressed, restless. After a while she heaves her heavy body and leaves, perhaps she needed a rest.

A suffering body or a suffering mind.

A young man is chasing a football, all by himself. The ball goes this way and that, always captured by the man who puts it back on track. He’s moving along with the ball, in between people. Nobody interferes. I follow him with my gaze, soon the restless figure is lost among the people.
The stream of people thickens. The sun is about to break. Four women are sitting side by side, chanting. Om, they chant. Ooomm...  They are unmoved by the stream of people, by the looks of any odd tourist. Closed eyes & deep in concentration.

The concrete wall along the promenade doubles as a bench. People also walk on top of it, or they sit down cross legged with their faces turned towards the sea. Contemplating; about the day that lies ahead or even life itself…

Even at this hour, some young couples sit close together, captured in secrecy perhaps, a more than common sight in the evening. Some do yoga, stretching their bodies towards the soft sky. Some is lost to the world in deep meditation. Or, we simply let our gaze wander. Up and down the promenade. Thinking how lucky this overcrowded, polluted, dirty megalopolis is to have such freedom and space for everybody to share.

The joggers emerge among the walkers. Long trousers, short trousers. A woman in a sari even. Chubby young girls adamant on losing a few kilos, their feet heavily touching ground. Sweaty foreheads come alone, but also in pairs. Mutual struggle. Mutual pain. Being two is always a small comfort. Athletic men in shorts glide along, fancy sun glasses, even more fancy shoes. Expats trying to keep fit, trying to beat the forever-glaring sun, trying to keep up a lifestyle from colder countries. Foreign business men from nearby hotels follow suit.

But people mostly walk. Arms swinging from side to side. Stretching limbs as they walk. Serious looks on their faces. Trying to fight old age. Middle aged women in western clothes and big sunglasses walking fast and furious. Fighting yesterday’s many-a-tantalizing laddoo. Young girls in threes and fours. Serious sometimes if not giggling, discussing that very special boy in school. Avoiding the many stray dogs that scuttle about. And there he is; the little boy with the monkey in a chain. Frowned upon by the regulars, but always attracting interest from tourists before they realise he’s not there to entertain, but to earn a living.


I’m leaving, still not at risk while crossing the street. Walking towards the Air India building, and then straight ahead on uneven sidewalks towards Colaba. The odd stalls are coming to life along the way, people are queueing for their buses, the Oval Maidan is quiet, but the traffic is picking up as I reach the other side of the city where the sun has hit the Indian Sea with full force.


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Meet the Author:

Courtesy - Mr. Kjetil Alsvik.
Anne-Trine Benjaminsen lives in Stavanger, Norway.She is a frequent traveller to India, and passionate about Indian literature. She works as an in-house journalist/web publisher in the Norwegian oil service industry where she has also taught cross-cultural communication.But as time permits; she tries to pursue different creative projects within writing and photography. She volunteers for the Norwegian development organization Indias Barn (Children of India) as their magazine editor.

“I fell in love with India and Mumbai from the very start. I love the city’s vibrant atmosphere, the chaos and control… the crowds and the crows, the tempting book stores, the many markets, the soothing sea breeze and of course; the magnificent Marine Drive. What more can you ask for…”


Read more about India travels and Indian literature on www.benjamuna.com or email: anne-tb@online.no 


Friday, 7 August 2015

My Date with Shantaram - Living a Novel in Mumbai

It was my last night in Mumbai. The end of a perfect holiday. But the flight wasn’t due until 3.30 in the morning. I thought of ways to while away the hours.

“Let’s go to Leopold’s,” I said to my friends and travel companions. “We need food, we need to sit down a bit.” They all agreed, and waited for me – still the experienced one – to find a way to cross the busy Colaba Causeway.

It was getting dark, traffic had slowed down, the heat was bearable. And then I saw him, on his motorbike, outside Café Leopold. I spotted him from across the street, even though my vision always fails me in the twilight. A wave of sensation surged through my body; could it really be…?

I forgot my friends, crossed the street oblivious to cars in every direction and went right up to him.
“Shantaram, is it really you?” (In retrospect, the famous quotation by Henry Morton Stanley upon locating David Livingstone in Africa; “Dr. Livingstone, I presume?”now has a totally new interpretation).

David Gregory Roberts, the author of almost legendary novel and never-made-it-into-a-movie Shantaram sat astride his huge motorbike, simply said yes, leaned back and smiled at me.
Words came stumbling out although I felt completely in control. I just couldn’t believe my luck. People come to Mumbai all the time. His readers and admirers come to Mumbai all the time, and for them, “Leo” is the number one attraction even though most of them are reluctant to admit it. The café cum restaurant is full of mostly young backpackers and they all have this secret hope; to meet him in person; Shantaram. I shan’t deny it. I have been to “Leo” many a time and you tend to look around…. Because when you read the book, you really believe (although wrongly) that this is Robert’s autobiography. And that makes the 8-900 page novel even more intoxicating.

Roberts seemed perfectly at ease, he must be used to people of all kinds approaching him. He told me there were a few Scandinavians inside the café tonight, that he had been to Norway recently, to see his publisher.

I looked over my shoulders, my friends had been able to cross the street and stood gazing at me – a very enquiring look on their faces. I could feel their many questions, or maybe just one;Who on earth is he?

I turned to Roberts and asked the inevitable question; “Do you mind posing in a photo with me?”

   “Of course,” he said amiably. As in; I’m all yours. 
I don’t remember who took the photo, but it’s a good one. Because I look at it almost every day, a memento in my window sill.

We bade farewell. I don’t know how long the encounter lasted, I can’t remember exactly what we said, but I remember the motorbike as it swung out of the pavement and onto Colaba Causeway, and roared towards the north. The last I saw of him was his flapping, grey ponytail.


We got ourselves a table. I did my best to explain, four pairs of ears eagerly tried to grasp what I said. The noise at “Leo” is almost unbearable. And then I reached for my cellphone and sent a text message to a booklover friend in Norway; “Guess whom I just met…”.

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Meet the Author:

Courtesy - Mr. Kjetil Alsvik.
Anne-Trine Benjaminsen lives in Stavanger, Norway.She is a frequent traveller to India, and passionate about Indian literature. She works as an in-house journalist/web publisher in the Norwegian oil service industry where she has also taught cross-cultural communication.But as time permits; she tries to pursue different creative projects within writing and photography. She volunteers for the Norwegian development organization Indias Barn (Children of India) as their magazine editor.


“I fell in love with India and Mumbai from the very start. I love the city’s vibrant atmosphere, the chaos and control… the crowds and the crows, the tempting book stores, the many markets, the soothing sea breeze and of course; the magnificent Marine Drive. What more can you ask for…”

Read more about India travels and Indian literature on www.benjamuna.com or email: anne-tb@online.no 

Friday, 31 July 2015

The Taj Mahal Hotel and the Bombay I came to know....

The below is a Guest Article showcasing the guest's personal impressions of Mumbai during her visit with her future husband in 2013. For more information on the Author, please scroll to the base of the article.
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Oh, Bombay! Isn’t it the most populous, cosmopolitan, stylish, commercial, liberal, rich, Bollywoodish place in the whole of India? Take my word for that, it is. But also, it is home to infamous Mumbai mafia and the world largest slums (with 60% of Mumbai’s population living there).

Most Indians would still call Mumbai by its British name – Bombay, and there is an on-going debate regarding the original name of the city. Some say, that Mumbai is a derivative of two words “Mumba” (the name of local goddess Mumbadevi) and “aai” (“mother” in Marathi), while Bombay is an anglicized version of Portuguese “Bom Bahia” – “Good Bay”.

Seven original Islands, and later connected by land, today compose the city and like most places in India, its history goes far back in time, precisely to 1508 when the islands were taken by Portuguese from Sultan of Cambay in today's Gujarat. They built a settlement, churches and forts, however, without a clear idea of how to use the islands, they handed them over to England in 1661 as part of the dowry of Catherine de Braganza when she married Charles II of England. Apparently, the British king had no use of the islands either so, in 1668, he leased them to the East India Company for 10 pounds of gold a year. The Company built the ports and business dominated the center of the city. The construction of the port and trading incentives given to the locals, attracted many industry and business communities to flood the city, thus laying ground to the diversity of the city and its commercial success.
Dimitris and I arrived in Mumbai on time, took a taxi (Rs.500) from the airport and 45 mins later checked-in into a beautiful Taj Mahal Palace Hotel. After 10 days of traveling and staying in different hotels, Taj Mahal Palace was all we wanted from Mumbai and more than we hoped to get from a hotel. It is a piece of art, monument of history and an extraordinary experience, all in one! Upon seeing our room in the Palace section of the hotel, Dimitris let go his subconscious desire never leave the hotel for the entire stay in Mumbai and frankly speaking, neither did I!
This stunning hotel is today Mumbai’s landmark and perhaps, one of the most famous hotels in the World. But of course, it is not the marble or design, the cotton count of the sheets or the bathroom toiletries that make this hotel great, it is the impeccable and attentive service, the “extra mile” the staff were willing to go in order for us to enjoy ourselves and of course, it is a “wow” effect we got from pretty much everything – and to name a few : beautiful Tibetan mandalas in the room and access to an Oxford-like lounge with drinks that compliment the mood. I was rest assured that me insisting to stay at this particular hotel was indeed wise and no less than a fairy tale relived.
After dropping off our luggage, we went for dinner to the Zodiac Grill - one of the best romantic restaurants we’ve ever been to. We ordered non-vegetarian tasting menus for both and spent an evening, worshiped by the attention of our two Goan servers, Anthony and Domnic. They were professional, well-mannered and delightfully pleasant. Our first evening in Mumbai gave a promising start and well-needed refuge!
The next morning, after having our morning coffee at the lounge, we came to the concierge desk to find out about things to do in Mumbai and Viren A. D’Sa, the Taj’s Experience Manager, whom we approached, turned out to be, an experience in himself. He, perhaps is one of the best people suitable for the hospitality business from whom I have ever met (but I guess it applies to everyone we met at the Taj). He was super knowledgeable, entertaining and friendly. He wasn’t a concierge (and he seemed to be on the run when we approached the desk), nevertheless, he spent 15 minutes telling us where to go and what to see in details. We grabbed the map he handed to us and walked out eager to explore.
Unlike Delhi, Mumbai has very few things to see. Indeed, Brits invested in building the city center, but after the Independence, Indian’s zeal to wipe away all traces of colonial rule was, unfortunately, not matched by the same enthusiasm to build a new city. Skyscrapers popped up in some parts of the city and old Victorian buildings were given names that a non-Hindi speaking person could never pronounce, but most of Colaba (southern Mumbai, where we stayed) represents a fair amount of Art-Deco buildings in a pretty good conditions.
In general, we thought that Mumbai was by far the cleanest and most organized place we have seenduring our visit in India, perhaps, it is partially due to a ban on tuk-tuks within 20 kms of city center. Our taxi driver told us that the reason for it was that “tuk-tuks don’t follow the traffic regulations and create chaos in the city”, as if the rest followed traffic regulations?!
Our goal was to check out Victoria Terminus Train Station building (locally known as Chhatrapati Shivaji Terminus), which indeed had the most extravagant Gothic architecture of all. As historian Christopher London put it “the Victoria Terminus is to the British Raj what the Taj Mahal is to the Mughal empire”. Designed by F. Stevens, it was completed in 1887 and today, it is Asia’s busiest train station and a World Heritage sight as well. True to its reputation, it was so overflown with people that it forced us to run away and look for a refuge at the Crawford Market.
As Viren told us, Crawford market was a place where we could buy everything and he meant “e-v-e-r-y-t-h-i-n-g”, from fruits to postcards to souvenirs to puppies.
As it was Sunday, half of the market was closed, so while trying to get rid of an “I-am-a-security-and-you-can’t-walk-on-your-own-here annoying man,  we checked out a few cute pets and took a taxi (Rs.70) to Marine Drive and Girgaum Chowpatty, also known as Corniche and “the Queen’s Necklace” to enjoy warm (+30C) weather and a beautiful Arabian Sea sunset.
Dinner at Leopold's Cafe
We took a taxi back and before going to the hotel, walked around the Gateway of India monument for some fantastic shoots. It was built to commemorate the 1911 royal visit of George V, but not completed until 1924. At any time of the day, it was always full of locals, taking pictures and people-watching.
After returning to the hotel, we grabbed some snacks at the lounge and went to a famous (read “Shantaram“) and super busy Leopold Cafe for dinner.
Dimitris and I planned to meet our classmate Mihir the next day at 5 pm, to attend a tour of Taj Mahal Palace together. It was a fascinating story of the hotel, told by our favorite person at the Taj – Viren. I believe many hotels in the world could borrow an idea and start organizing hotel tours, but very few of them would have such a vibrant and eventful history as Taj Mahal Place, from its inception in 1903 to the terrorist attack in 2008 to the current celebs staying at the hotel (Scarlet Johansson and Russell Brand).

After the tour, we dropped by Sea Lounge for some tea and juice before heading to Khyber restaurant, highly recommended by everyone in Mumbai.It is a lovely, lavishly decorated restaurant serving a north India cuisine. We ordered an appetizer and some samples of meet kebab for the main course, as well as desserts. Everything was delicious.
After dinner, we continued to the stylish Harbour Bar, back at Taj Mahal Palace – the first bar in Mumbai to acquire a liquor license in 1933 – to try their signature cocktail from the Prohibition era. The story behind the cocktail is that a few Americans who had their boat moored by the Gateway of India heard about the abolition of prohibition in the US, entered the Harbour Bar to celebrate and demanded a cocktail which would blow them away. The bartender used Indian fruit juices to concoct a cocktail that is now known as Harbour Bar 1933. Our bartender came to the table to demonstrate the preparation of the drink before our eyes. Not only was his show impressive, but also the drink was delicious.

After saying goodbyes to Mihir, we went back to our room to pack and get some sleep before flying off to Mysore.
Mumbai, though rich in history, for us, it was a piece of paradise because of Taj Mahal Palace. So, my advice if you plan to visit Mumbai – book the Taj, get your swimming attire in order and enjoy the amenities! The rest of the world can wait!
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Meet the Author:
Sviatlana Tsiaseika-Economou is an event planner living in New York. Born in Minsk, Belarus, she graduated from Oxford, UK and has become today, by passion a proud world traveler and history aficionado. 

She visited India with her, now become, husband, to attend the Dalai Lama teachings in Bylakuppe, Karnataka, India.

If you would like to read more of her articles please log on to :
www.svetanyc.com