Dear Reader,

Welcome to my blog!

As you may know, this blog is about making Mumbai your home.

One day, I think it was in February, I got up in the morning with a question in my mind: After moving to a new city, at what point does one start calling it home? Almost a year after being here, I still find myself telling people that I am from Delhi. Sometimes my alacrity surprises me.

Over the next few posts, I hope to tell you more about my 70 year old maid, Shanta Bai, who comes and leaves as she pleases, takes an off when she wants (she hasn't been coming for four days now) and bosses over me when I complain; about the cat I made friends with in the neighbourhood; and the one taxi driver I met once who wouldn't listen to anything but death metal.

I shall also talk about other people, famous and unknown, and their Bombay stories. Someday, I shall tell you about the day I heard the most menacing rumours about Rajesh Khanna (my hero), but today allow me to me start by telling you about the day I met crime master Gogo.

"Its called being B Cool --- Bombay cool," a senior editor had remarked when I told her what happened.

One Friday, soon after moving to Mumbai, I bumped into Shakti Kapoor. It was quarter to five in the morning. I was hanging out with a bunch of 'friends of friends' on Hill Road in Bandra waiting for the A-1 bakery to open when Mr. Kapoor came around in a shinning SUV. This was my first month in Mumbai and I wanted to speak to Crime Master Gogo ---the man who holds the world record for acting in maximum Hindi films: 422. He is one of the finest comedians and villains we have in Indian cinema today and perhaps the only mainstream Indian actor whose five minute hard core porn clip can be downloaded from any decent bit torrent website.

The minute I saw Crime Master Gogo, our first meeting flashed through my mind.

I had first bumped into Shakti Kapoor four years ago in the RK Puram area of South Delhi during the last general elections in May, 2004. I had chosen to cover the assignment because Shakti was going to be there.

Shakti had been requested by the Congress party to campaign for their first time candidate, RK Anand, the famous lawyer. In those days, both RK Anand and Shakti Kapoor were respectable people --- the sting showing Anand bribing witnesses in the BMW case and Shakti Kapoor promising a reporter a film role if she slept with him had not been aired yet.

Shakti Kapoor took the campaign a little seriously and a little personally perhaps. For as soon as he landed in RK Puram (in a shinning SUV) he hurled a quartet of choicest earthy abuses at Anand's opponent, VK Malhotra of the BJP.

The congress supporters were initially upbeat with the outburst (foul language being the sign of passion in politics) but began to look worried when Shakti started harping on the secret relationship he's had with the women in the Malhotra clan.

RK Anand, being the respectable man that he was in those days, disassociated himself from Shakti's statements that same evening. Shakti, also being the respectable man that he was in those days, swallowed his pride and took a cab to the airport.

Outside A-1 bakery, his SUV was parked a little away from us. His window was open and I decided to take a chance. I walked up to Mr. Kapoor and told him that I had seen most of his films, especially the ones with Kader Khan, and had loved him every bit in each of them. Had I been a teenager, I told him, I would have taken his autograph. Mr. Kapoor heard me but did not react. Then he rolled up his window and before he drove off, he said something implying that he was my real father.

When I walked back to my group I noticed they all looked at me strangely. Each one made me self conscious; I felt weird. It appeared I had done something I could have avoided; at least in their company. I had behaved like an outsider.

It is not cool, I am slowly learning, for cool Mumbaikers to hyperventilate at the sight of bollywood personalities. If one happens to meet their eye, one is expected to look through them and get on with whatever one is up to.

But some of us, yours truly included, cannot understand this. Our condition is similar to those people who have only seen animals in a zoo. We have seen animals from all over the world right in our background, albeit in cages. We long for a national park. Sadly, when we get there, like naïve zoo visitors, we want to feed a carrot to the first wild donkey we meet.

So the day I got to spend 10 minutes with Shakti Kapoor in a congress sponsored SUV he was campaigning for his party's candidate who had ditched him and did not want him there. I felt sorry for him. I could have said to him then what I said to him when I met him in Mumbai but no words came to mind. I think, I like my donkeys wild.

Please do let me know what you think about this blog. Also, please please feel free to share Mumbai stories of your own.

Rave on,

Yours Sincerely,

Mayank