FRONTLINE

Such is the nature of terrorism that it could affect anyone at all and completely without warning. Well, during the last 24 hours global terrorism is now that much more close to home. Not just on the hi-def images in our living rooms. It is now deeply ingrained in neighborhoods most familiar, mingled forever with childhood and adolescent memories.

The Leopold Café was yet another Irani restaurant before its staid image was transformed to that of a happening hang out joint for the young and funky. Many a sultry Bombay evening was spent here sipping iced tea, trying to make sense of the colorful frescoes and wondering whether the long-haired hippie on the next table had been to Woodstock. Now it lies desolate in a pool of blood, easy prey to a wide sweep of a semi-automatic weapon and a few lobbed grenades.

Bade Mian was a man with a skull cap and a white pointy beard, in the lane behind the Taj hotel, twirling skewers of meat on an open charcoal grill with practiced ease. Each Sunday morning, I would be calling friends to see who would welcome the privilege of accompanying me that evening on a slow trot from the bus route number 123 to Bade Mian’s for two plates of “kalegis” & one of “botis”, all for the sum of rupees seven. Even in those early days, Bade Mian was beginning to acquire the reputation of a gourmet chef. I swore by his ability to make otherwise well mannered boys lick their fingers. Until one day a friend mischievously suggested that Bade Mian used dog meat which is why it was so delicious. The horrifying thought that I may have consumed a Pomeranian like my own was enough to put me off red meat altogether. Some years later, I learnt that Bade Mian had a restaurant of his own at the same place – the lane behind the Taj. And today, 8 kgs of RDX was reportedly found at the restaurant.

Until my friend spoiled my appetite, the only deterrent to Bade Mian was the notion that it was like going to school on a Sunday. That’s because a lane adjacent to Bade Mian was where I turned up each day for school. And which is why we had “PT” lessons on the pavements of Apollo Bunder. Each time, I would gaze at the grey stone structure of the Taj in complete awe and wonder how many kings and queens had graced its historic ballrooms. I dreamt someday of being wealthy enough to be married at the Taj but thought it was a pipe dream. So when I could finally afford to pay a kings ransom for fish and chips at the Sea Lounge, I knew I had arrived.


The third table from the entrance at the Sea Lounge was the venue of my first date. I scampered there early to ensure that we got a table by the window which afforded a wonderful view of the ocean fading away into a distant horizon. I thought it would be a clincher with her but instead it turned out that she was like a bear with a sore head because of not being fetched from her doorstep even if it meant that we would have to sit on an uncomfortable sofa and miss the view! I did not understand women then and I don’t understand women now.

In later years I graduated from the Sea Lounge to the most popular Chinese restaurant and then the best French food place in the country. However, it was the Oberoi which was my favorite destination when visiting the city where I grew up. Most of the staff at the Oberoi remember my name and have got to learn my habits and idiosyncrasies. It is the Oberoi where I had my very first client lunch. And it is at the Oberoi where I bumped into my childhood love recently. And now it is the Oberoi which will carry the burden of being the most gruesome terrorist catastrophe in India’s history.

The part of South Bombay from the Taj, Bade Mian, Leopold Café and the Oberoi was not most of my youth in Bombay. It was all of it. And now this same five square kilometer patch is the frontline in India’s battle against global terrorism. In a lot of ways, Bombay and the world has changed for ever these past 24 hours.