There’s nothing quite like Holi. Literally, you have to see it to believe it. We Indians seem to lose our collective minds, abandon all sense of decorum, and chase and pelt each other with coloured powders. As the powders are unleashed, social boundaries are blurred with colour and for that one crazy day, anything goes.
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. On Sunday 23rd October, we have a fantastic day of events for adults and children alike to celebrate Diwali – face-painting, chalk Rangoli, story-telling and a film viewing!
The last few weeks have seen millions of Muslims across India and around the world, from Bombay to London, take the time to reflect, pray and taste the essence of a simpler life.
Tomorrow is the anniversary of India’s independence. 64 years have passed since the earnest Mr. Attlee and the elegant Lord Mountbatten finished the British Raj. Late on 14th August 1947, the about-to-be Prime Minister, Pandit Nehru proclaimed to the Indian Constituent Assembly that at the stroke of the midnight hour, as the world slept, India would awake to life and freedom.
Republic Day falls on the 26th January. It is possibly the most popular and potent of Indian holidays. It could even be considered India’s major national holiday. It marks the passing into law on 26th January 1950 of India’s constitution, and marks the date when India became a proper sovereign state. It is effectively modern India’s birthday.
All of us, whatever our station, have our own struggles, our own share of rocks to navigate around. Sometimes, the seas are calm, often they are choppy. Years pass in a steady rhythm with their share of joy and laughter, of heartache and headache. Diwali is a key part of that rhythm.
Leopolds café on Colaba is a Bombay institution. The wide shop front on Colaba Causeway opens up the large café to an expansive view of the street. Beggars beg, hawkers peddle counterfeit goods to the passing crowds, and black and yellow taxis honk, pointlessly. It’s a snapshot of vibrant, energetic, urban Bombay.
When we go to Bombay, we always go to Bademiya. Maybe on the first night we arrive. I’m not sure why, but it helps take the edge off the jet-lag. Some may well argue that there are better grills in Amritsar and Lahore. A few others may point to Ayub’s or Baghdadi’s. But for sheer Bombay tastiness, fun and atmosphere, you can’t beat Bademiya.
