Dancing to tunes or notes…

Do they dance? What do they wear? Who are these girls? Why do they take up such a job? Right from the time I was a teenager, I have always been curious to find out about the very popular Dance bars of Bombay. There were a couple of these bars in nandi galli, Bandra which I would often pass on my way to the station. I remember one of the names, Asha bar and restaurant. I was very curious to know what happens in these bars, my father who was a very open minded person, agreed to put an end to my curiosity about the dance bars by answering all my queries related to them, little had he known that he has just sowed the seed to by curiosity. He said he had visited one of them, on the insistence of one of his clients for a meeting, he totally hated it. It had loud music, women fully dressed and dancing to glaring loud music and men throwing money at them. He told me that it was the first and last time he ever visited one and would never go their again. When I asked him what he thought about these women dancing in the bars? Was a good thing or a bad? I loved his answer must share it with you

“beta, these girls who work in the bar, do not like to work here, they are doing these out of a need to feed their families. We live in a society, where every man has a physiological and psychological need for attention, sex etc, thus when he comes to a dance bar his ego is satisfied because he can throw money and get attention from any women present there. Its because of these girls, that girls like you are safe to go roam around the city even late at time without the fear of getting molested or raped, like in cities of the north. You should actually be grateful to them”

Over the period of years my inquisitiveness for the dance bars increased and I tidbits of information about them from friends, journalists, books

No entry charge to get into a bar
Women are fully dressed usually in the most gaudy clothes and they dance to latest Bollywood hits
There are various levels in the dance a bar catering to different strata’s, the Nightlovers at Andheri is supposed to be very sleek and fancy and probably the most expensive of the lot. Deepa bar at Parle is medium. However there used to be tons of these bars across Dahisar and Borivali. The fancier one in the suburbs used to be Jharna
At these bars you cannot touch the women, there are bouncers present
I am told the men through money at the girl or buy a 100 or ten rupees garland and give it to the girl
The guys who visit these bars are usually businessmen, local gangsters, drug peddlers, film producers etc. Some visitors often blow up to lakhs or even cores within one night. I guess it’s a good vent for their black money
The water and beer in dance bars is very expensive. For e.g. a bottle of water is Rs 100.
The bars have been operating for many years under the cultural dance performances license
Most of the girls who work in these bars work in shifts. 9pm to 1pm and 1pm to 5pm. So if you ever take the last train at 1:15 from church gate and sit in the ladies general compartment you will find loads of these girls entering at Grant road station and Dadar. Chatting about the latest makeup, talking about the irritating client at the bar, laughing and joking around these girls company is sure to make your ride home enjoyable
Dance bars are a topic of great interest. Reams and reams of newsprint has been dedicated to dance bars whether its on websites, books, newspapers or television. Channels. Infact when the state government lifted the ban on dance bars it was the front page news of every single newspaper in Mumbai.


Dance bars is something synonym with Mumbai. I wonder why such places haven’t opened in Delhi or Gujarat. I am told Bangalore has a few dance bars. Dubai has some very fancy ones; infact after the ban in Mumbai, many of them went to work in the dance bars in Dubai
and Bangalore

However, finally when I convinced a set of my friends to take me to dance bar or cham cham bar as it is called, it got prolonged, I went out of the country for a couple of months and when I was back they had banned the dance bars. Now there is hope after the government has lifted the ban

Children…. The Little Angles… The Child Workers…

Those innocent eyes, the infectious smile hidden behind all the hardships and troubles that engulf their lives, the ever eager hands, always ready to help. Those little hearts which need very little to make it happy. You will find them everywhere you go

At a construction site as their parents try to make ends meet, covered with the cement dust these 4-5 year olds try to give their parents a helping hand by helping the chaiwala serve tea or carry bricks. These little hearts seem so happy and relaxed in their surroundings, the desire for the latest toy car, or the latest superman dvd is totally alien to them, it’s the construction site filled with stones, mud and cement which is their playground where they try their hand on guli danda or cricket, and the earth is their bed and the new construction sites they move to with their parents is home.

At the chaiwala you will find these 6 -7 year old energetically washing the chai glasses, serving you chai and happily collecting your glasses back. In spite of washing glasses after glasses and serving the hundreds of chai drinkers throughout the day, there doesn’t seem to be an element of monotony or boredom in their eyes. With every serving of chai there is that innocent smile for you.

At traffic signal, in trains
These are the slightly street smart variety, the child entrepreneur kinds. They will come selling anything from newspapers, to pirated books, to flowers, to cleaning your cars, to singdana with excellent marketing slogans” Didi, yeah book bahut acha hai, award winning hai, last copy hai, didi lei lo na “ one 7 year old tells me, trying to persuade me be to buy a pirated Maximum City. It’s not an easy job for these kids, running between cars at traffic signals in rain or sun shine, minding their belongings and selling them in crowded trains, keeping peace with other fellow vendors. The survival instinct in these little stars has made them shun their innocent days of childhood to learn the tricks of the trade or should be say the survival trade.

They are everywhere this little child, my heart goes out to them. What wrong have they done god that they cannot even cherish the joys of childhood….

Reading can add spice to your life

Books never fascinated me. I never inculcated the habit of reading in spite of having a zillion books at my disposal, most of which were gifts from my uncle and aunt in the US and books picked up by my dad. The shelf was full of books which I had never read and later and often ended up being disposed off to cousins, neighbors or the raddiwalas.

But one fine day, maybe about 2- 3 years ago, I just happened to pick up a book my aunt was reading. - The uncommon errors of my life- short stories. I completely enjoyed reading it. Couple of months later, I saw myself walking into the swanky Crossword bookstore in Inorbit Mall, browsing through the fiction section, and this is when I completely amazed myself by spending my first penny on books and chucked away my old belief that buying books were a waste of money. I remember the books I purchased. Picture Perfect- detective stories on which the serial Bymokmesh Bakshi was made. It a great book, I completely enjoyed reading it. The others were Shobha Des books and short stories which were fun to read too. After that my rendezvous with books hasn’t stopped. However some books can leave quite an impression on your mind, or probably change the way you look at things.

Shantaram & Maximum city

After reading Shantaram, it wouldn’t be wrong to say that my perception of looking at Bombay changed; it made me zoom in the dreams, the aspirations, the struggles, the joys of the lakhs of people who make Bombay their home. Today when I look at a slum, my earlier vision of dirt and clutter is taken over by the thought of how the family lives in the little cramped house, what is their lifestyle? What’s their idea of entertainment or eating out? I wonder how life is for them, and how similar it could be to what was described in the book. I wanted to visit Leopold’s and witness all the illegal- legal trades that happen there as mentioned in the book. Whenever I walk through Cuffe Parade and slums there I wonder if any of these people, I pass by are one of the characters from the book. For some reason the chaos and the madness of the trains and the buses, now seem interesting to me.

When I read about the encounters in the newspapers I wonder how true they are compared to the things described in Maximum City. When I read about a movie receiving slags from censor, government etc, I wonder if their struggle to get their movie released is similar to the directors or producer who faced a similar struggle as described in the book. When the court lifted the ban on the dance bars, I thought about the girls who have been described in the book and wonder what their reaction would be to the announcement. Life seems to have become so interesting for me, today when I take a walk down a road I look at the people around trying to figure out the stories of each of their lives. Imagination is such a powerful tool; your imagination can make a street kid’s life also so interesting for you, if you look at all the facets of his life

I don’t know whether it’s my age or it’s the books that have made me too look at the finer details of life that I had completely ignored over the past so many years, definitely adding a lot of spice to everything you do

Mornings…….

I have always loved the early mornings. Its calmness, its energy, is infectious. I cherish the darkness of the mornings, the fresh air. There is a great feeling to be awake right before the world rises. Giving you company are the sleepy watchmen’s cuddled in their shawls trying to catch up on their sleep. The milkman ridding on their cycles trying to reach the homes of their sleepy customers. Streets are dark, shops are closed, the only shop that is all lit up and open is the milk dairy. Some early joggers are strolling towards the park. The only thing open is the milk dairy where the owner seems to be screaming at the worker over some matter. The chaiwala is also pumping the stove to prepare his first cuppa of chai for the day. Often I have seen these chaiwalas pour a glass of chai on the street once it’s prepared as an offering to earth

As I stroll through my building as workers near a construction site bathe in the cold of the darkness, I look at my building which seems so calm with hardly any lights on and sound of alarms ringing and probably a mixer churning some juice.

After a quick breakfast at 7:30a.m I leave home for work. As I get into a rickshaw to go to the station, I look at the school children waiting to be picked up by their buses or rickshawalas. Mothers giving children some last minute instructions or revising a test lesson or running back home to get a copy of a book the child may have forgotten is a common sight.

But now comes the chaos. As I come close to Kandivali station, the peace seems to have been disturbed with the traffic jam, thanks to dug up roads. I run over the bridge to catch my train. However the compartment is overcrowded and I have still not got a hang to push my self in .Mind you it not really the rush hour, finally at 8:01, two trains later I finally get in. The train compartment is an experience in itself. You get to see all kinds of people; some people have their own groups and thus something to always chat about, not to forget t the dabbas of mithais and snacks that open up when there is a special celebration. Married women discussing the vows of married life, weekend plans, a sick relative, college students discussing their gawky professor or the miseries of chemistry or algebra. Young women blabbering on their cell phones. Minus the pushing and no space in the compartment the train compartment can be as interesting as a gripping novel or juicy soap opera.

Well as I get off the train at one of the most crowded station of Mumbai- Dadar, My attention is captured by the small breakfast shops outside the station selling vada pav, to poha to bhajiya pav. The flower market and vegetable market of Dadar is something you just can’t miss. As I walk outside the busy street and take a cab, it’s back to by inside world my office, where I don’t have to worry about the heat and the sun, all I am bothered by is the AC duct which is right above my desk

A date with Sunset

What’s so special about a Sunset? What is it that drives hoards of people across the world to go and view a Sunset? Is it the magic of nature or is it the calm vibes that the setting sun passes off that we all aspire to receive? Whatever the reason maybe this Sunday I decided to watch the sun bid adieu to the weekend, amidst the scenic surroundings of Bombay’s skyline.
As I walked through the bay from Churchgate station, I saw a variety of people sitting on the wall facing the sea leading upto Nariman Point. Old people, children from all age groups (literally saw a 6 month old kid too), young couples, college students, foreigners, local tourists and from all strata’s of society. Seems like the sea and the sun had the power to bring all kinds of people together. As I looked at those many faces, I wondered what it that brings so many people here is.

I reached the dead end of Nariman Point and parked my self on the palli to get the perfect view of the sun. It seemed so beautiful, the orange twilight in the sky, the birds flying, the calm waves of the sea, it all seemed like a freshly painted canvas, but it wasn’t a painting it was a real creation, a real creation of mother nature. As the sun dipped into the horizon, all the eyes fluttered towards the sun, it seemed like mother nature has come to showcase its magic tricks and within a couple of minutes the magic show was over and the sun was gone leaving the orange reflection which looked so beautiful.

Another thing that captured my attention were the little rockstars of Mumbai, the 10 and 11 year old street smart kids displaying their entrepreneur skills selling everything from channa to chai, I felt so proud of those little boys who knew to make their living by whatever means.
A couple of minutes later, someone blurted, look the sun has gone here and behind the moon has come out. Seems like the next show from Mother Nature had just began. As we walked back, I think I got my answer, its the magic of mother nature that brings us all here.

A walk through time...

Well I don’t know whether it was the religious sentiments in me or the adventurer in me that evoked me one Saturday early morning to take a walk from Kandivali to Siddhivinayak (Prabhadevi).I got up at 3am, mom was very clear she wouldn’t allow me to get out of the house before 5:00 a.m however we ended up with a compromise and I left at 4:15a.m wrapping my shoes in a plastic bag. As I walked out of the building, it was pitch dark, the sky still waiting for the sun. The only people on the road were sleepy watchmen drooling from their chairs at the gates, milkman on their cycles and a couple of the dairy’s which seemed in full action. As I walked further, with my feet liking the cold warmth of the thick earth, especially when the stones didn’t puncture my feet, I heard the howling of dogs and some of them just passing by me. But the real adventure was yet to begin. As I walked through the narrow lane, I heard the howling of the stray dogs, although I followed the rule my father taught me to always ignore the dogs when they are howling. As I ignored the loud howls of the dogs the tempo increased, more dogs joined in, my mind waggled with the idea of shouting at the dogs or throwing stones, but the worry that these stray dogs may bite me just putting an end to my walkathon plans kept me away from trying my stunts. In a minute I was surrounded by a group of dogs howling at me, at that moment I thought the 14 injections in the stomach was now going to be a reality.Thankfully a rickshaw passed through and distracted the dogs and I managed to come on to the main road.

As I reached the main road that too just at Kandivali I was already feeling a little tired and the culprit were the stones that were pricking my feet. The walk from Kandivali to Andheri was quite boring and long the only things I saw were the chai shops making their first cuppa of tea and than throwing a cuppa of chai on the street maybe as an offering to earth. Temples still were closed and the pujari seemed to be busy doing some work. People sleeping in peace out side the pavement of small shops and just one bakery the eagle bakery which was so lit up that it seemed like a light shop. As I walked further towards jogeshwari, I bumped into a couple of the Jain monks those who travel the world on foot. Actually seeing them walking that too barefoot made me feel a little happy and I tried to increase my speed, but they overtook me in just a matter of few minutes. As I came towards jogeshwari, I saw a glimpse of dawn with the namaz prayers oozing from the mosques and many Muslim men walking in out of the mosque. 3 hours later I reached Andheri it was about 7:00a.m and I looked at the two schools both in a dilapidated condition on the left side before shoppers stop. The children rushing in from their school buses, some playing in the background took me back to my school days. The cake shops at Andheri station Mewans reminded me of the some really good cake and savories I had relished a couple of years ago when I was in college and also a very simple looking hotel near the station which me and some of my college friends had discovered while waiting for our other buddies. I still remember the joy and pleasure each of us felt that day at the end of that meal that evening for having discovered a new place.

As I reached Vile Parle those college days just flashed my memory , the hurry to reach college from the station to make it in time for the 7:00 a.m lecture time as the Prof often closed the door or made the latecomers stand outside. Me and my friends had spent countless hours bitching about this weird rule of our Prof, Cant he understand trains are never on time? The bus is not run by his father in law? Those were the days. But as I walked further I came across the smashan where Papa bid his final adieu to the world. Further down Nanavati hospital brought in mixed feelings, the place where my sister was born, the place where I had the opportunity to spend many nights and days through various medical epilogues of my parents and relatives. There were times that the hospital stays were so common that I had almost memorized the entire menu of the Nanavati canteen which was undoubtedly good. Moving further I cam across the now defunct Venue restaurant which a couple of years ago, I had been a part of its relaunch. Being my first job out of college, I still remember I feared going home post the launch party even at 11p.m. ( that’s crazy coz a year back that’s the time my events would actually begin).

Santacruz brought me memories of the vaishnav temple I used to visit so often. I still remember as a kid who loved to walk and had nothing better in life to do in a summer vacation, I used to walk from my home in Bandra to Santacruz and enjoy singing the kirtans with the kirtanyaji. Khar and the Pupils school reminded me of all those great stories Papa used to tell me about his school, about his teacher troubling him and him taking panga with the teacher, to the great dramas and art exhibitions he would organize.

As I reached Bandra I looked through that narrow lane at the end of which lay my old house. Those pictures of me leaving for school early in the mornings, to those countless tantrums I gave mom on my way home from school to persuade her to buy me something from the local store, the endless times I left my mothers hand to run and cross the road, enjoying the sight of her getting hysterical, to the countless rides on the pony at Bandstand that my grandparents took me too, those visits to almeida park or the playground next door with my bhuji(bua), the frequent visits to the Orthodontist, the unnumbered rounds to supermarket at the Petrol pump, to the countless birthdays my parents celebrated for me at Siddharth hotel just brushed my eyes. Bandra talao brought me memories of those few boating encounters I had when the boating started there, to the maha-artis I attended at the Jari Mari temple opp the Talao.

Walking further I came across the mosque which seemed beautiful with its carving. Walked across Mahim causeway which seemed very dull and deem not like the pretty site it was during the evenings when the sun was about to set it. As I walked through the road that connects causeway to Hinduja hospital I was amazed by the diversity of the street. First you come across the Muslim dargah, followed by a mosque, a Hindu temple and further a Jain derasar, So much of religious diversity in one street unbelievable. Its was over five and half hours now since I had been walking, the sun was out and was bothering me I was also getting very tired. Shivaji Park and a couple of minutes later I was at my destination Siddhivinayak. As I looked through my walk of 6 hours I felt I had walked through my life and revisited all those wonderful memories.

Mumbai- A city within a city

Men coming in and out of the small mosques after completing their prayers, Burkhaclad women bargaining with the fruitwala or hungry stomachs gulping down the khicdha or chicken tandoori at the local joints, carts selling fresh fruits. Are you in Mumbai or small Islamic town is a question which will definitely cross your mind when you walk through the streets of Mohamadali road especially during Ramzan when the streets are lgnited up with fancy lights and night is full of gastromic fantasies ranging from the malpua to sherkurma or the kababs

When you drive a couple of miles down Mohamad ali road you come to a very Maharashtrian suburb of Lalbaug. Pav vada stalls, zunkha bhakar kendras, vegetable vendors, navari saree shops, musical instruments shops, Chudagali where you get a range of chivdas and much more is what a walk around this suburb will offer you. But during Ganesh Utsav this place looks like a wedding hall, absolutely lit up with the fanciest lights, hosting the biggest Ganpati of Mumbai. But to get one glimpse of the Lalbaug ka Raja one has to stand in line for hours.


When you go further down towards Matunga (JIP)it’s a totally different world again. You feel you have just entered a city in South India. Tons of shops selling the lungis and traditional kanchiwaram sarees, to the lovely spread of south Indian eateries and the neatly carved temples this place is sure to give you a taste of South India.

Moving to Bandra- The queen of suburbs. To get the real taste of a Portuguese village walk down the small streets of Bandra near Mount Marry, The bazzar road and chapel road with its tiny cottages and its small shops will definitely give you a flavour of a Colonial Portuguese village. You will also come across some very beautiful churches, Mount Mary, St Johns church and sea view from Bandstand is divine. Things to watch out in Bandra are the Bandra fair in September and Xms ofcourse.

Mumbai has so many facets to discover.. This is just the beginning. Watch this space for more on Aamchi Mumbai and do send in your contributions