Chimbai diurnal
Chimbai is a little colony nestled between the popular seaface promenades of Bandstand and Carter Road in Bandra. Fisherman walk out onto a pier behind the colony during high tide and leave their boats on the flats when the waters recede. At seven thirty in the morning, the only people at work are Christian coffin makers tapping away at pink and silver hearses for the slight of height.
By eight thirty, three people are making breakfast: a woman rolling out mini puris on a bungalow stoop, a woman sitting on the ground frying the pooris in oil atop a portable stove, and a man collecting cash and packing aloo and puris in newspaper. A line of hungry people forms behind the stove: a slack-jawed uncle in a goofy, white Spaceballs helmet, navy blue shorts and white socks drawn up to his knees, a dapper elder on his morning walk, a little girl buying puris for her entire family. You give the man four rupees fifty paisa and retreat to the side. Reading the wrappers you can bone up on news of the weird in Germany while scarfing down breakfast. Every once in awhile, the lady frying hands a customer a thali, and the customer fetches the flattened puri dough from the stoop. The man smiles and tells you to come back in the evening. ‘Vada pav milega.’
At nine thirty, the fruit- and bhajiwallas have spread their wares. A man sharpens knives against a sharpening wheel mounted on a bicycle. An hour later, the catch comes in. Ladies wielding scary half-moon sickles begin chopping and de-scaling fish. The halal butcher hands out chicken and mutton.
Hardly anyone comes shopping in the warm afternoon. Between six thirty and eight thirty in the evening, you can get piping hot, spicy vada pavs in front of the breakfast bungalow. After dark, the Hindu or Christian shrines begin chanting prayers for the festival of the week.
By ten, the bicycle repairmen and barbers retreat to watching TV behind Amul advertisements in lovely, faded blues and greens. The bhajiwallas are still trying to wring rupees out of dalliers. By eleven, the colony is populated only by nocturnal kittens. It’s now just a lonely shortcut between movie stars and beauty queens and people necking, dim white dots on mud flats in the dark.
Between Joggers’ Park and Chimbai, there’s a little wine store called The Pinky Wines. I’m no sommelier, but this store sometimes has the best wine I’ve tasted to date, a spectacular Spanish tinto called Heredad Mas Gatell, 2002.
on Tuesday, April 3rd, 2007, 12:49 am in Bombay, Photos › 
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Thank you for the wonderful description. Food at candies near lilavati hospital is pretty good. Check this out for more places in Bandra if you already haven’t come across this site.
Love this post Manish..
great writing..
reminded me of my small town khammam in AP where I grew up most of my life..The near by temple would start the day with MS subbalakshmi venkateswara suprabhatam which the whole town could hear, then the sound of south Indian coffee filter and steaming idlis inside the kitchen, early morning the newspaper boy dropping newspaper riding his bike, then the servant maid knocking the door sweeping the floor and doing morning rangoli outside the house, the milkman walks talking loudly for everyone to know he is there to sell milk measuring milk based on how much u want, then vegetable vendors shouting on the streets”tomatoes kilo one rupee , potatoes”.a nd granny asking us to run into the street to stop the vegetable vendor,then the fruitlady walks in insisting her fruits are fresh and wont leave until u buy her fruits. then the sanskrit masterjee would come and drag us inside for our morning religous learning before we go to school…small towns and small streets have their own charm..there is so much life in every morning hours in India, I miss that here in US..
such great description of everyday life on streets Manish, love the way u write about how the scene changes as time passes by in a day.. u should include this in ur novel if u are writing one about India..
love the photographs too..thanks for sharing ur experiences Manish..looking forward to more blog entries like this one in ur blog..Have a lovely week Manish..
Manish,
Unbelievable - I grew up near Chimbai and practically in Ranwar -which is mentioned in the link Brown sent
Brown,
Thanks for the link.I used to pass by the home in the last photograph on my way to school every day and even knew someone who lived in it .
After having a not-so-substantial lunch, i come here and see words like “poori-bhaji”, “vada-paav”! God! that makes me so hungry! Good that you didn’t post food pictures ;)
I totally love the bhajiwallahs-fresh produce delivered at your door-step, what more can you ask for :-D
Sigh… you must’ve eaten well.