Thursday, March 28, 2019
Bombay
Extraordinary Day! Visit to Jai Hind College and Interviews with Two Icons of Western Performing Arts in Bombay!
Namaste from Bombay!
Once in a way you have the kind of day that so awes you by its special-ness that it quite takes your breath away. Today was one such!
My sleep patterns are out of whack as mosquitoes keep me awake far longer than I want--it is always just one pesky creature that ruins my nights. I have no staying power beyond 9.30 pm, so succumb, then awake at Silly O clock, get back to work, transcribe an interview and then fall asleep again at 5.00 am only to awake at 7.00 am! Hopefully, things will fall back on even keel again soon.
That said, I had my breakfast of a broon, spreads and coffee--the idea is to try and finish up all my pantry supplies (cream cheese, marmalade, sauces, etc.) before I am faced with my date of departure! I blogged and then I jumped into a shower to get ready for my 11.00 am appointment in the city--once again at the iconic Brabourne Stadium on whose grounds the Cricket Club of India is located--for my interview with Burjor Patel. As it turned out, just when I was leaving, I received a call from him, postponing it by half an hour. This gave me a chance to get the transcription of one more interview finished before I left my house, took a bus and a train and then walked to get to the venue at exactly the appointed hour.
An Interview with Burjor Patel:
Burjor Patel was in the lobby of the Club when I arrived. We made ourselves comfortable in The Idhar Room--an air-conditioned coffee shop, thankfully, where we settled down with fresh lemonade sodas and a plate of chilli cheese toast and began the interview. He had come beautifully prepared with notes on a small piece of paper to which he kept referring as the talk marched on. I found him absolutely delightful--a man of old-world customs and manners who offered hospitality, many an unknown anecdote, dates and places with enviable accuracy and then offered to send me a copy of his memoirs that, so far, have been purely for private circulation. I was simply charmed. There was a lot to talk about as he (and I) walked down Memory Lane with him rattling off the names of plays I saw and reviewed during my Theater Critic days in the Bombay press and name of actors who were once household names in the city--sadly, quite a few have left us and the ones who are left behind are the only receptacles of priceless memories that they are quite happy to share.
We spent more than an hour together after which I decided, on impulse, since I was so close, to visit Jai Hind College. I walked behind the bleachers and remembered my school days when I used to enter and leave this stadium (for our annual school sports) through this path as I emerged on to the main road facing the Ambassador Hotel Then, on another impulse, I stepped into K. Rustom's Ice-Cream factory, and purely by custom, decided to buy myself a Kesar Pista ice-cream sandwich (which would have to suffice as my lunch). That consumed, I walked along the Marine Drive Seaface to A Road where Jai Hind College is located.
A Visit to my Former Stomping Ground:
My academic career had started more than three decades ago at Jai Hind College, where I spent eight of the most fulfilling years of my life as a college Professor in the Department of English. As someone who was hired to teach in degree college within days of earning my Master's degree in English, I was way younger than all my colleagues, all of whom had been my own professors in the Master's Program. Whether it was my youthfulness--I was 21 but I looked about 13--is hard to tell...what I do know is that I was taken under the wing of everyone: from professors to administrators to lift men and canteen wait staff. I grew in the presence of these folks in ways that are hard to imagine or describe. The College offered me immeasurable opportunities--all of which I grabbed with both hands as I grew daily as a research-oriented academic.
It was only fitting, therefore, that I make one visit to this place before my Fulbright stint in India ended. I am not sure what I expected to find...but in the end, I felt as bit like I had done, a few years ago, when I had returned to Exeter College, Oxford, on a frigid winter's evening and seated myself in its Quadrangle as dusk fell over the fabled city of dreaming spires and the tower clock tolled the twilight hours. I was filled with such bitter-sweet nostalgia: joy at the memories of those who had made my life there so memorably wonderful and sadness at the fact that they were no longer there to savor time or keep me company.
I felt the same bitter-sweetness when I entered the premises at Jai Hind College. There was the weird feeling of being in a familiar spot but being a complete stranger in it. There was not one familiar face to be seen--not among the admin staff in the office down below or in the Faculty room on the third floor to which I returned and where I had spent so many gratifying hours as I prepped for my next lecture, shot the breeze with my colleagues or consulted with students. Not having our own offices (no Indian faculty do), the Faculty Common Room was where so much interactions occurred. But when I got there, although it was packed with women (mainly), not a single person looked even vaguely familiar to me. Every single person from my time has retired--which made realize that were I still a professor here, I'd be facing retirement too.
Being there, I decided to do the Grand Tour of the main building (with which I was more familiar)--I scoured the library, poked my head into the classrooms in which I had once taught, skimmed through the labs, etc. and finding nothing to rekindle in me a sense of joyful reunion, I left. Again being in the space, I then popped into the new building at the back (where a very modest Junior college used to be, in my time) and found a glass and concrete tower that is fully air-conditioned. I took the elevator to the seventh floor and then worked my way downstairs on foot, passing by labs, computer labs, classrooms, common room areas, etc. But none of the spaces evoked in me more than just a passing curiosity.
Back on the ground floor, I took a few pictures and left. I did not even visit the canteen as that was never a space in which I had hung out as a faculty member. Yes, thirty years is half a lifetime and, of course, I did expect to see change. What I did not expect to experience were the conflicting emotions with which I had to deal--once again, I realize that tied up with all these sentiments was one of sadness and nostalgia at the passing away of youth. I will always be grateful to this institution for what it meant to me and what it did for me--it was a launching pad into an academic career that took me to Oxford and then to NYU: an academic could truly not ask for a better, more gratifying career.
Back Home and on to the Next Interview:
I had time, once I took the train home, for my 2-minute power nap. When I awoke, I realized I had about an hour to spare before I would need to set off for my next appointment. I dressed again and walked to the State Bank of India where I had not yet resolved the issue of resetting my internet banking login password. Bhavya, the lovely assistant, helped me without any difficulty and about a half hour later, my job was done. I shudder to think of all the hoops through which I will now need to jump as I re-set or change passwords everywhere that they are needed--as the loss of my Documents took my entire saved password file with it.
After leaving the bank, I walked to Dad's to leave some money behind for him. I had sat on the phone earlier and found out about a reservation at Lord's Hotel in Matheran where my friend Nafisa and I shall be spending two days next month. One of the items on my Bucket List for Bombay was a return to this venue as I had very fond memories of my time spent there when I was nine years old on a large extended family holiday in which about 35 member of my Dad's family had taken a trip together and spent a month one summer in the bucolic Western Ghats surrounded by misty hills, mango groves and monkeys. Nafisa was game to go with me and so we have zeroed in on dates that shall take us off to the nostalgic pathways of one of my childhood summers. The money I left for Dad's represents was our hotel tariff which will be picked up by someone tomorrow morning--a rep from the Bombay office of Lord's Hotel which is supposed to be one of the nicest hotels in the place.
I spent about a half hour with Dad and Russel but which point I was starving and ended up eating two chocolate biscuits and a bowl of papaya. Then, at 5.00 pm, I left Dad's and took a rick to my next appointment: an interview with Louiz Banks, jazz musician and composer.
An Interview with the One and Only Louiz Banks:
Louiz Banks is probably India's best-known jazz pianist and one of the most prolific composers of advertising jingles of all time--that and, of course, innovative experiments in jazz. He is managed today by his son, Neil, with whom I have been in touch to schedule this appointment. His lovely cottage-like home on the ground floor of a building in Santa Cruz that includes a full recording studio was easily reached by rickshaw in about twenty minutes. Once in the presence of the master, I prepared to be awed.
And awed I was! The musician just swept me off my feet with his vivid stroll down Memory Lane. It seems he might never have done such a lengthy or extensive interview before because he waxed nostalgic about everything--his life and early performing days in Nepal, his years among the jazz greats of Calcutta, his years spent composing advertising jingles that made him a millionaire, his tours in the West where, among other Jazz greats, he played with Dizzy Gillespie. I was simply hooked from the moment he opened his mouth speak. I cannot thank the Lord enough for giving me these opportunities to meet with these men and women who have punctuated the cultural life of the city of Bombay with so much talent and so many thrills.
As Louiz spoke, I remembered by own days as a passionate explorer of jazz--the new genre to which I first became introduced in my twenties through Jazz Yatra Festivals organized by the late Niranjan Zaveri. That is what is so marvelous about this data-collection in which I am steeped. While it does is allow my 'subjects' a chance to wallow in nostalgia, in doing so they pull me in a for a good long soak too! History and journalism are blending together in the most amazing ways for me as this project continues. What was more was that Louiz posed for me on his own piano and played me a couple of tunes before he presented me with a whole stack of his CD recordings before I left his place. I gave him a hug of gratitude and left with a lump in my throat.
I took a rick home--but skipped church today as I was too late for the 7.00 pm Mass. Back home, and starving, I dived into my dinner--a cup of soup, some dal, chicken curry and okra, and then I switched the TV on and watched some Mary Barry's Quick Cookinshow on You Tube--she happened to be in Rome sampling my favorite cuisine (Italian) and tasting her way to pasta, pizza and pasticceria! I watched until sleep beckoned. I then spoke briefly to Llew before calling it a night.
You would agree that it was a deeply productive day, right?
Until tomorrow...
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