Mumbai 27 Aug'10 Day 1: Ma Chudai

My flight was booked for 27th of august'2010. Like everything else concerning this job change, this one also was a first for me. This was the first time I was paying for a flight from my own pocket. "Yikess" was the original sentiment but then it faded to form some sort of pride at being able to afford to do so. It was an Indigo flight and had her fair share of fair maidens, some call them air hostesses. Everyone had a Rihanna haircut and wore a hat on top, I wanna say a beret? I recall there was only one hostess who had her hair longer than the rest. Maybe she was subtly defying Rihanna and with it, making her own sort of passive aggressive statement against airline policies. I remember having incredibly expensive sandwiches on board. But more than what happened during the flight what I was feeling during takeoff actually surprised me. Since I have never been out of home, at least not too far, whenever my friends would talk about how elated they would be on landing at kolkata airport or when the train from bnglore first crossed kharagpur, i would always roll my eyes and secretly judge them for being childish. While taxing for takeoff, I looked at the whitewash facade of the kolkata airport and heard myself say - it would be nice to return. I understood instantly how my friends would react, I could already hear "I told you so, I told you so" jeers. However I was happy, I felt warm within. When the plane finally took off I was looking out of the window and trying to figure out locations. From that height buildings and foliage seemed to merge in an unlikely harmony; the only geographically distinguishing features were the water bodies. Streets looked like veins pulsating within flesh and the vehicles on the streets looked like miniature versions of miniatures versions of original bodies. However tall buildings still stood out, and as a result I could figure out some familiar buildings. City centre2, I could also see the globsyn building, the omega towers, saltlake stadium, the vsnl towers at ultadanga. Landscape was lost later as i was greeted by a blinding cloud cover. Heavy wafts of milky white clouds would part to brush past my window, the plane's wings and then merge and take a very different shape altogether. Clouds always reminded me of pouring copious amounts of dettol in water and this time I felt I was swimming in that water. It turned darker slowly as dusk exited paving the way for evening to sweep in with all her luscious dark mysteries, an enchanting seductress as always. After that it was all boring, all blah blah blah. We had food, we had our seatbelts sign turned on and off multiples times, when it was time to land typical to almost all the flights I have ever been on everyone suddenly remembered that they have to be somewhere hence despite polite requests from hostesses everyone was out of their seats, grabbing their belongings heading towards the exits, irrespective of the fact that gates were yet to be opened. Unexpectedly, Mumbai wasn’t hot. It was a pleasant 30 degree Celsius; wet tarmacs indicated an earlier occurrence of rainfall. I collected my baggage and headed towards prepaid taxi stands. My last time in Mumbai I distinctly remember abundance of taxis, however that night there was none. I headed towards another taxi service called the Silver Cabs. Due to lack of prepaid taxis, this one counter was quite crowded and the sole lady guarding it had to turn away quite a few due to lack of cabs or drivers. However I guess she felt I was an outsider with no other possibilities and she asked me to wait. I told her I would like to go to Powai (pronouncing it with an O after P, just as in the spelling). She looked at me with a judgemental eye and corrected me saying Powai (pronouncing it with an A after P, just unlike the spelling). I felt a wee bit awkward but quickly corrected myself. I was then escorted out of the airport towards the taxi stand where I had to wait around 20 minutes for my cab to arrive. In the meantime keeping me company was an old lanky looking man who was in charge of loading my baggage and ensuring I got on the right cab. The whole 20 minutes the man kept complaining about his job. Complaining about the lady at the counter, stating quite matter of factly - woh ma chudai, kuch aata jata hain nehi usko. I was a bit embarrassed but just to indulge the poor guy nodded along. He also told me that he gets only 1500 per month and no one tips him any amount for services rendered. I think that was only a ruse to guilt me into paying him some money, which by the way worked. When I complained that it was taking far too long, he took out his cell (which was better than mine, but let’s not dwelve too deep into that) and called up the driver. His cell number was written in the slip handed over by the counter lady. To be honest her handwriting was awful and it was some work to decipher the number. The man showered another set of choicest cuss words on the lady. He then went on to complain about how he has to pay for the calls from his own pocket. Finally the cab arrived and paid the guy 20 bucks, which made him quite happy. Finally I was en route to Mumbai, life outside the sheltered walls of Chatrapati Shivaji Airport.
My taxi driver was Rajesh, he looked quite young and sort of nice. I asked him if he had locked the back after loading my suitcase and his reply was - once I have locked it no one else can open it. You dont worry sir. Something about the arrogance in that man reassured me. Rajesh turned out to be quite a chatty fellow and I indulged him. I had learned quite early on that befriending taxi drivers never causes any harm. I asked him about his job at Silver Cabs. The very first comment was about the counter lady. This time I found out that she was a "behenchodi" too and luckily also discovered her name was Archana. Why was Rajesh pissed at Archana? Apparently he had just returned from a long trip from Pune and was looking forward to returning to his wife and kids. However Archana threatened to nark him out to his boss if he refused. Rajesh had reluctantly agreed to take me as his next passenger. This time I too complained about the lady, just to gain the man's trust and keep the conversation going. I told him about how there was absolute chaos at the counter and how she was mismanaging everything. This egged on our little rajesh saab even more. He further complained about how they never pay him enough, about how they make him pay for the diesel and reimburse him too late, he complained about how they make him work long hours, etc etc. The entire taxi ride was a long letter to an agony aunt column in a daily. However our Rajesh was a kind guy and he never made me feel like an outsider. He told about the roads, explained to me which road led to where. He alerted me when we were about to reach Powai and explained to me how everything used to be a jungle earlier on. I was quite amazed at the Hiranandani gardens, the tall apartments which belonged to richest of the richest. As I was nearing my brother’s place I couldn't take my eyes off the very swanky shopping malls and eateries. I was very glad that my bro lived somewhere around here. Finally I reached my destination, Powai Vihar. I bid goodbye to our Rajesh saab and he drove away quickly.My brother lived on the 7th floor.his apartment is awesome, dirty indeed, mismanaged indeed but awesome. Three huge rooms, two bathrooms, one big kitchen and two verandahs. The neighbourhood was also great. As I was strolling around I noticed three restaurants, one car training academy, multiple grocery stores, one cigarrette kiosks and one cell recharge kiosk among many others.
All in all, my first night in Mumbai rocked. Couldn’t really get a feel about the real Mumbai or the real Mumbaikar but as much as I have seen I am glad. P.S. The sheer volume of "ma chudai", "behen chod", "bakchodi" etc etc flying all around me with great flair and a sense of belonging alerts me to update my vocabulary. So in the spirit of Mumbai, thanks for reading my blog all you ma chudais!