Mumbai

Mumbai

Mumbai, I have to say, is an amazing city. It was a fascinating transition, from the tiny town of Ellora way out in the backwaters of Maharashtra, to the city of Aurangabad where I needed to catch a train; I spent an hour wandering around Aurangabad, searching for a functional ATM, and then another several hours sitting in a cafe, ostensibly working. The train ride was from 9:30 at night to 5:30 in the morning, on the sleeper class (to simplify, classes in trains in India go First AC, Second AC, Third AC and then: sleeper); light was kept on all night, there were stops every half an hour or so, and I had been under the misplaced impression that blankets and pillows would be provided as part of the cost. Oh, and: remember those views, that were decent in Ellora but quite effortful? It turns out that at some point on that trek I came in contact with some sort of relative of poison ivy. Now, poison ivy is not supposed to exist in India, so I was not careful, but based on the rapid spreading and itchiness off the rashes that erupted along my arms and hands, feet and chest, and the similarity to other experiences I've had, there was definitely some urushiol oil involved. Urushiol is the worst, and I did not sleep well that night.

But so I got off the train at 5:30 in the morning with nowhere to go, nothing to do until I could check into my hostel at noon, not really aware of where I was, with large buildings standing imposingly all around and past the taxis and few small stands immediately outside of the train station, very few people and very few lights, all the shops closed and silent. I searched for a park with a park bench to sit and maybe read – none was to be found. So I turned towards the east, where the first lights of sunrise was just beginning to illuminate the sky. There was an ocean in that direction, or at least a body of water. Bombay is located on a series of seven islands, connected and now difficult to notice through the metropolitan sprawl, and I was near the tip at the last one protruding into the harbor, a relatively narrow island that takes about 20 minutes to walk across. So I set off: the ocean, at sunrise, would be a pleasant site.

No dice!

When I got there, large, blank white walls rose in front of me, with vaguely foreboding signs like “no loitering” and “trespassers will be shot” and “you are not allowed in this area.” Hoping that the signs referred to the contents of the walls rather than the sidewalk than ran alongside, I took a right turn and walked along, hoping for a break or anyways some sort of achievable view of the ocean. After half an hour of this, with my rather heavy bags weighing me down and every once in a while motivating a shift of position due to one of my arms falling asleep, I gave up and headed inland, where I found my first open public place where I could sit down and relax, and take in the atmosphere of Mumbai. It was Starbucks, though, with regular starbucks prices. For the price of two of my cheaper days worth of meals in Ellora, I bought an egg sandwich and some English breakfast tea (I had ordered darjeeling, but that was not in the cards). But! It was nourishment, it was warmth,it was a relaction of my shoulders and a place to leave my bags. And it was free internet. I spent far too much of my time in Mumbai at that Starbucks.

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My usual approach to a city is: to wander. Mumbai is an excellent city for this, simply enormous with a beautiful collection of architectures, tall, shiny new buildings and old, slightly decaying buildings, paint pealing off their sides; forts set up under British rule, and buildings built in the Indo-Serranic style, a beautiful Mughal inspired style that seems like a cross between a cathedral and the Taj Mahal. And then, of course, there is the ocean, always a nice touch, and lots of interesting shops, restaurants, parks and museums. But! I had a rather unfortunately itchy rash that moved to the bottom of both my feet, making walking rather more unpleasant than the views pleasant. Instead, I felt the need to spend a lot of time in an area with AC and a place to sit down, and unfortunately I was unable to find anything that satisfied those criteria that wasn't the Starbucks I found on that first morning.

I did manage to visit two very interesting museums, though: The CSMVS (formerly the Prince of Wales Museum) and the Dr. Bhau Daji Lad Museum (formerly the Victoria and Albert Museum). They were both buildings set up in the late 20th century in that beautiful Indi-Serranic style and with a certain level of oppulencethat, while stinking of the colonial exploitation that funded them, was quite pretty. Their collections were somewhat interesting, although they turned out to be more or less irrelevant to my project. Theyboth had nice collections have miniature paintings, which can be quite astounding and impressive. The CSMVS had a collection that spanned Indian art and culture from prehistory to a contemporary abstract expressionist.

The Dr. BDL Museum was much smaller, and in an interesting location; an hours drive north of me, the main entrance was closed and under construction, so signs told me to walk about a kilometer around and through a zoo. The entrance fee was definitely worth it at 5 Rs, or about 8 cents, but it did seem like a kind of sad zoo, with a few deers and monkeys visible in the far back of their habitats, which did not seem terribly well maintained or invested in. And when I got to the museum itself, the same construction was still being done and I walked over the road as they were currently setting paving stones in place. Inside, there was a magnificent collection of, I guess, “craftwork.” although the delicate carvings, paintings and pottery on display within seemed like they were more than deserving of the title “art.” These were all displayed in old varnished wood cabinets with glass siding, some of the information cards clearly typewritten not long after the the opening of the museum in 1857.The building itself was beautiful, with light turquoise walls and gold decorations, arches and tiles everywhere, and it was just one large room, with everything visible from the second floor.

Besides the works of art was frequently displayed the tools and materials that were used in its construction, alongside a tidbit about the actual process that was used, and frequently a little plaster model of an artist doing the work”: quite interesting! And then some things just didn't have labels, or had labels in the wrong language. One cabinet was particularly intriguing: inside was a few words in Arabic script, a model of a man teaching children from presumably the Qu'ran, and a small stand rigged up with some object and a magnifying glass rigged up in front of it: it appeared to be perhaps a grain of rice afixed to a piece of wire in a glass tube, upon which in microscopic script more Arabic was written. This was located between some pewter work and the miniature painting collection, and I was unable to figure out why exactly it was there.

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I also caught a sunset over the ocean. I quite missed the ocean, it seems. The fresh sea breeze was refreshing, and the air of Mumbai eminently breathable as a result. And I was quite productive in Starbucks, and some of the food I had was quite good. That 300 Rs drink that I treated myself to, the Toffee Nut Crunch Frappacino, was surprisingly delicious. As was the 50 Rs pineapple juice/smoothie thing that I got by accident when there was no orange juice available. I started quite missing bagels, though. Bagels and cream cheese, maybe some capers and lox, seem to have left a little hole in me. I mean, people, too: I miss you as well. But bagels! But I was productive, and there was good food and museums and my hostel was comfortable and I caught a sunset over the ocean. I'm sorry that I did not stay longer: I could spend a long time exploring that city.

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But now I'm on a train back to Delhi. I didn't realize until the day before I left, but: it is longer than 24 hours. Comfortable, though! And this time I got a blanket, and slept well through the night, and the people I'm sharing this compartment with have offered me cookies and chips and chai, and passed around my book on The Making of a New 'Indian' Art: Artists, aesthetics and nationalism in Bengal 1850-1920 with apparent interest. I watched a Harry Potter movie, read a sci-fi novel and listened to some Radio Lab before sitting down and getting to work, a measly bit of work but decent progress nonetheless: I am pretty well situated now to actually finish this thing and have a paper I am happy with! That I actually have enjoyed researching and reading and writing! Long time since a paper has produced that effect upon me. Now I'm listening to some Toubab Krewe and watching the outskirts of what I'm pretty sure is Delhi role into view and write these words. It's comforting to be returning to a home base.

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One last thing, in case you are curious: I have also made good progress in planning out what I'll be doing for the next few months! After this program ends I will: