Mumbai Pictures

We only had a day in Mumbai, enough time to check into the Emerald Hotel and eat a great meal from their vegetarian restaurant. I walked around the neighbourhood having lots of flashbacks and reminiscences of when I’d been in Bombay about 35 years before. 

I’d taken the trip as a reward to myself for completing psychiatry. It was also a question whether I’d come back. I think I might have been socially suicidal at the time.  I know my family was worried but I sorted things out in my mind and returned. I was in a divorce dealing with trauma and rebuilding a life.  I’d divorce again, quit alcohol and smoke, get more degrees, see thousands of patients, sail across an ocean,  and continue to write and take photographs. I was drinking and smoking tobacco and dope, a young intellectual, confused and suffering with a lot of pathos, seeking God.  Here I was back again not drinking and not smoking, definitely more mature, and more with God than not. 

I was back in Mumbai with a horrible bronchitis , popping antibiotics and coughing green sputum. I was exhausted with a couple of nights of not sleeping and flights and coughing all night. But it was good.  Laura liked the Best Western Emerald Hotel, the family owned boutique hotel. She liked the view from the window and the birds.  We joked that she was becoming one of the “neighborhood watch” grandmothers. She napped while I explored.

I felt safe in Mumbai. I have so few recollections from 35 years ago but those I have are so poignant, the Indian friends I made, the wonderful Chicago businessman, the doctor who worked with Saint Theresa’s , Singing Hey Jude harmonies in the carriage ride in the park, the airport crisis, the Sheik, dancing, the hole in the wet dirty floor toilet,  Elephanta Island, discussing Buddhism with the Indian doctor, visitting the hospital with the psychiatrist, lunching with him, doing consults, the husband and wife doctor team, the Bombay Bicycle Club, and walking. I walked everywhere enjoying the safety and friendliness of this foreign country where people spoke English and were so engaging. Here I was walking again and enjoying all the sights and sounds and the colours and the variety of people. It’s that Indian and English thing that is Mumbai for me. I didn’t feel it so much in Delhi despite New Delhi.  Delhi is more like New York while Mumbai is a bit of London to me.  It’s all that crazy mix of India. The Juxtaposions of rich and poor, fast and slow,  modern and ancient,  all side by side and mixed together.  

After walking, and a Tuk Tuk ride back,  getting antibiotics at the chemist,  lozenges and listerine gargle I left with Laura , I took a taxi ride around town eventually ending at Asian Crafts. There I bought gifts  for Laura and I to bring home. Laura was pleased. I was glad to have had a bit of tour. We repacked our bags and had a few hours of sleep despite my continued cough, plugged sinuses and tight chest.  

Early morning taxi. Long flight home. I was sad to leave Mumbai. I’d gladly return. I’d only planned on staying a week when I’d come in the late 80’s  and stayed a couple of months, there just being so much to see and do. 

Now I want to return to India.  I’d fly into Mumbai and head to the Punjab and wander down to the Ganja, maybe visit Tibet.  I could spend a lifetime in India and keep coming back. 

I was glad to be returning to Canada though. I really missed Gilbert, the clean air, and the outdoors. White Spot.  I also like my friends and family here so, full of the exotic and strange, I was glad to return to and appreciate the familial and mundane. Laura remains a wonderful companion. These are some of the pictures I took there.