Restore old glory to modern city

This week was a historic one for Mumbai. After three decades, machines came alive in the three near-defunct mills—Tata, Podar and Indu, all located in the central suburbs of Parel (once known as Girangaum—land of mills).

On that day, I visited Lower Parel station at different times to understand how the scene on the platform had changed. And the scenes took me back to a nostalgic Bombay (as it was pronounced then) almost 30 years ago.

In those days, at 11.45 pm, mill workers would bring down the entire state government! They would stand and ruthlessly analyse the latest housing policy initiative and reduce it to shreds. If our ministers came to one of the three stations—Elphistone Road, Parel and Lower Parel, they could sense the pulse of the people.

A Marathi tabloid would be sold then for 10 paise and deployed a reporter who would stand next to the station tea stalls and jot down the opinions of these employees. Labourers had an opinion on practically every subject under the sun.

Trains were always crowded and that is one of the reasons, women commuters felt safe in those days. Today if we want women to feel safe at any time of the night, then it is imperative to restart some more mills in the city.

Despite its mechanical routine, old Bombay had its charm. We need to restore that magnetism, which drew millions to the megapolis. We can start by some landmarks places like Cafe Naaz which once stood at Malabar Hill and Kala Ghoda’s Way Side Inn.

Cafe Naaz gave one of the most panoramic views of the city, while legend has it that Dr BR Ambedkar, wrote parts of the Constitution sipping coffee at the Inn. Today an oriental restaurant stands there.

Rang Bhavan was my preferred venue for all music concerts. There was a time, bands played some great music at Cooperage Garden and Bandra’s Bandstand. Today one gets to see love birds perched on the rocky shore at Land’s End, making their own music!

When I grew homesick, I used to go to a famous South Indian eatery called ‘Concerns’ opposite Shankara Matam, Matunga. The recession-proof menu on offer was how my mother would have exactly cooked the tomato rice and payasum.

Adjacent to that was the South Indian Cooperative Society, a store where I would buy my monthly quota of provisions cheaper than any general store. The society was targeting a large customer base with minimum profit. Today both have vanished.

When you wanted a quick bite, you walked into an Irani hotel and got ‘Irani Chai’ and ‘kadak pav with butter’. Majority of the Irani restaurants have given way to modern establishments. Few like the restaurant next to the King Circle garden, have managed to retain their loyal clientele.

As a reporter, I would visit small villages in Bandra and Vakola. These predominantly Catholic villages, with their narrow bylanes and quaint bungalows, were like an oasis in the urban jungle. But today, space starved developers are eagerly eyeing these patches of tranquillity.

They may eventually give way to high-rises. I’m sure, like me, some of you also want them to be revived. This way we will be able to bring back some charm in our mechanical existence.