What I miss most about Mumbai
Both born and bred Mumbaikars and ex-expats will agree that away from Bombay, there is a lot to miss. These are the things I remember the most.
I miss my little kitchen at the Pali Palace. It was far from an ideal space; cramped and empty.
It was lacking in elemental kitchen resources, like a salad bowl and a bread knife. It was lacking in design principles: there was no counter, and no ceiling fan. It was enough for me. I miss coming home in the evenings, cooking barefoot; sweating and sticky from the heat in the room; eating on my bed that doubled as a dining table, couch and storage area; falling asleep satisfied after a long, exhausting, wholly worthwhile day. Despite the yells of the kids in the hall, I slept better in sound than I sleep today in silence.
I miss being surrounded by awe-inspiring people, especially women, who had surpassed their circumstances.
I miss the colour, design, detail and texture of everyday things.
I even miss the gross things, and there were a lot of them. Crows, butcher shops, fish markets and trash smells were only a couple of chapters in the novel that you could write on gross things in Bombay.
I miss being a Bandra socialite with other Bandra socialite friends, especially Maeve, pictured being glamorous at Eat Around the Corner.
More than anything, I miss the detailed beauty and inspiration in everyday things.