Calendar of chaos

Thursday 25th june: 5am Wake up. Hooray! I'm actually on time.

530 am Wait down for Za and car, terrified cell signal wont work if I move.

730am: I'm frozen with fear. Has she left without me??
Za arrives and rightly says, "Told you I'd call before I left home!"

1130am: Deposit Za safely at Sahar airport, having braved traffic snarls and what promises to be the advent of a real monsoon. Images of a flooded Bombay wash over me, and I think getting stranded in a Skoda is not a bad way to be.

1pm: Stagger into Aneesha's factory in Dharavi. Am distracted by all the gorgeous bags and it takes her to get me thinking back to the wedding. We ponder over invitations and redirect and consult with Wendy a few times. Wendy is very stoic and calm and most helpful, bless her!

3pm: Grab a cab and go to Khar to deliver gigantic laminated photos to big client. HAte hate hate traffic. Refuel at Candie's, even more ridiculously expensive than ever, but hell, the chicken mayo sandwiches still rock.

7pm: Am finally home chez Aneesha. Half asleep and numb with fatigue. Rustom orders us a fab meal from 'sizzling wok' and Rob and I tuck in and crash. Aneesha and I reminisce about the Michael Jackson concert we went for, the best concert ever, Mumbai , 1996. We argue over our favourite songs and posters on our walls.



Friday 26th June : Wake up to horrible news: Michael Jackson is no more. WHat?? We were just remembering his concert yesterday!!! HOw can it be so weird. We' re sad and dejected. We grew up on MJ. :"(

Aneesha has taken the day off to be my personal shopper. Except it's raining and raining and well, we better shop before it floods. We hit High Street Phoenix and head to the Triumph showroom, lunch at Spaghetti Kitchen and then we hop across to Atria Mall and immerse ourselves in some serious retail therapy, despite La Senza sales and NineWest on discount. We stagger into Coffe Day, ex---hausted. Poof! Shopping is serious work! And Aneesha is the best person to go shop with, she knows when you should splurge and she knows when to yank you away! Wait, one stop left, although it's late and raining and we 're cross eyed from all the bright lights and heavy loot.



Next stop: Mac. WOw! A Fairy God Mother waves her wand and poof, I look 18 again! I stare goggle -eyed and silently hand over the visa platinum. WHY didn't I learn make -up artistry on that whim 10 years ago?



We FINALLY tumble in through the door and sneer at Rustom's wicked peals of laughter and avoid all conversation to do with money.

A lousy Thai dinner ("I told you so", says Aneesha) follows. And we are rejuvenated enough to attempt "T3" at Metro; 11pm. Joined by Cousin Ian and the very sweet Hamin, we make it to Metro, the gorgeous art deco cinema. We stare and stare and stare at the grand Rolls Royce, all silver, luxurious, grand and blubber incredulously when we see who get in: old men, podgy, GFFFFG (if you remember what this stands for, you lived in Bombay in the 80s) and ... ugh!! WHy couldn't it at least be a Hrithik or someone dashing???

T3 is in all fairness a fab production. If I had to reveiew it, however, I would say this: "rat...tat...ratatatatatat". Now say this in different stacatto bursts, try turning it and twisiting it and try all the combinations you can think of...tat a trata a tat, rat a tat a tat a rat, or rat rat rat at at................

3am: we sink into blissful oblivion, mine peppered with dreams of dentists and root canals, thanks to Aneesha who says Rustom slept throught T3 like he does every root canal, where he genuinely falls asleep with a drill in his mouth!

I miss Alu terribly.


Saturday 27th: We head out and shop some more. Destination: Alladin's cave/city/ street... or souk. Crawford Market it is. For paper, gift bags, ribbons, bargains, and walks through Petticoat Lane, past Kipling Sr's Bas relief friezes on the grand, old, main market biuilding. Past hawkers selling brollies, combs, dusters, bags, trinkets and whatchamacallits. Past streets quaintly named Lohar Chawl, Sutar Chawl, Zhaveri Bazaar. Shayaan and hunger drive us back to find a Mcdonalds.

6PM: We are booked for seats at stand-up comedian Jonathan Atherton's show at Sophia Babha Hall. We are informed by SMS that it's pulled to 7pm. Rustom actually gets us there on the dot from Colaba, in rush hour TGIS traffic, careening wildly on Marine Drive. I tell Aneesha to close her eyes in the same breath as I goad Rustom on to pushing the pedal saying RObin drives faster in his sleep!



We make it only to find out it's at 8pm and so I teeter in my new highest heels until my toes go numb. Rachel joins us and we have a good time at the show. ( I must say the funniest joke was about "compromise in a marriage"). Now we head to Olive, for a not-so-great meal, and to the MJ tribute. Zenzi is packed and the Blue Frog is fun. The sound rocks, the Dj sucks. We dance to MJ hits and feel all teary. WHen was the last time a DJ played MJ anyway?? Don't these guys recognise the genius behind " Keep it in the closet", "Thriller", "BAd", "Blood on the dance floor", "They don't really care about us"....???

130am: Rob and I head home with Rachel and promptly fall in love with her tastefully done up, elegant , revamped appartment. It's like seeing your colourful, bohemian college sibling now a swan in all the elegant, graceful ways a swan is a swan without being a peacock. Less is always more.

Sunday 28th June: 10 am . Alarm bells sound in our head. Post smoked salmon and cream cheese on bhakri ( a Reuben classic),we have a girlie morning after Robin has gone off to his shoot. We chat, we primp, we preen, we make ourselves pretty and drive to the Oberoi ( now re-christened the Trident) Rooftop for the Mid-Day 30th Anniversery Brunch. ( That deserves a whole new post). And eventually Rob and Ian make sure I make the DQ back to Pune.

510pm: And it's bye-bye Bombay...... laden with shopping I make quite a sight on the train. I sink into oblivion till Lonavla and sink back into Nod after I sms darling Shabaree who is to pick me and my precious cargo up.

830pm: I make it into Shabaree's car, happy to be home and cold in amchi Pune and into Alu's hugs. The dogs are ecstatic. And I find myself... home sweet home!