Siblings can be frustrating, can’t they? Know-it-all elder sisters. Pesky little brothers, bullying big ones. Yet despite (and because of!) this proximity, the endless chafing and bickering, a unique bond develops.
Last week, millions of Muslims around the world embarked on Ramadan, the month-long cycle of fasting, prayer and reflection, followed by Eid al-Fitr.
There’s nothing quite like Holi. Literally, you have to see it to believe it. The festival of colours, of vibrant carousing, of gentle flirting, Holi is India’s barmiest celebration.
The Velan-times Day story continues, with a daring rescue of the Desi wife from treacherous villains in the nick of time. Release the Velan Shakti!
We felt a responsibility to turn uninspiring Christmas dinners into something amazing. Something that friends would squabble over the scraps of. A Bombay Party in your mouth, so to speak.
A conversation revisited…Cold, rainy morning, not very long ago in a comfortable booth at Dishoom on St Martin’s Lane. A motley crew of Dishoom-wallahs, mulling over ideas for Christmas.
Diwali draws near, and with it fireworks and celebrations. But it’s also worth remembering the story of Diwali, passed lovingly on through generations. A tale of daring, of wonder. Of chariots flying across the sky, of the wise monkey god leaping the ocean.
It was a loopy premise, even for a pop-up. ‘What if an old Bombay Cafe were to take a gentle stroll down to Chowpatty Beach in about 1965 and drop a mild acid tab?’ But now, the crazy colourful summer is fading into grey-brown autumn. Say goodbye to Dishoom Chowpatty Beach one last time.
A pop-up Bombay Beach Bar on the South Bank, answering the (previously very hypothetical) question of what would happen if an old Bombay Cafe strolled casually down to the local beach while on a mild acid trip.