Mumbai is different

Mumbai is different. Do not fool yourself. Do not ask me why Mumbai is different. It just is.

Mumbai is different from Delhi. Delhi has often been called the `rape capital’ of India. Mumbai would never be that. We are just not interested in women in Mumbai. Our energies are spent on injuring, killing, looting breaking taxis and rickshaws operated or owned by Biharis, UP Bhaiyas and so on. In Mumbai we also spend our energies arresting and fining couples sitting on the rocks at Bandra Bandstand. Nip the problem in the bud, stop this promiscuous behaviour and you will stop rape. See how safe Mumbai is. Women can walk at any hour of the day or night without any molestation.

In Mumbai no one eats Chow Mien. Our choice of food is Pao Bhaji or Vada Pao. No Chow Mein for us, no sir. Consequently, see how safe women are here.

Mumbai is different in yet another way. We have very few non vegetarian restaurants in Mumbai. I presume you know that the consumption of meat/flesh inflames passions. If you have restaurants serving non vegetarian food in our vegetarian Ghettos it’s best to burn and stone such restaurants. Mind you the restaurant may have all licenses and permissions in place however the peaceful vegetarians with calmed passions find it proper to violently destroy the restaurant in question.

I am sure you must have enjoyed the second T20 cricket match between Pakistan and India held at the Motera Stadium at Ahmedabad. Ahmedabad is in Gujarat, a state that has recently re-elected Mr. Narendra Modi and the Right Wing Hindu Party Bharatiya Janata Party to power with a thumping majority. Mr. Modi has been accused of fomenting the 2002 Gujarat Riots where Hindu rioters killed several hundred Muslims. Some months ago at a public function when Muslim Clerics presented Mr Modi with a Muslim cap, he refused to accept it. This got all the `jholawallas’ and other liberals in a right royal frenzy. Assuming for a moment that Mr. Modi is guilty of all he is accused of, an Indian Pakistan cricket match was held in his state capital. It was a full house, Mr. Modi himself attended the match, and the Pakistanis felt Ahmedabad was safe. But, in Mumbai, with a secular Congress government in place we cannot have India Pakistan cricket matches for fear of violence from the Shiv Sena and the MNS. See, Mumbai is different.     

Drinking and driving is very bad. World over people drink and drive. The test for whether a driver is driving under the influence, world over is done by using a device called a breathalyzer. This tests the amount of ethanol in our breath. Ethanol reacts with acetic acid and the reading indicates the blood alcohol content thereby signifying how drunk the person is. Now you must understand that all this i.e. the breathalyzer, costs money. Who wants to spend money when you can do things differently. In Mumbai we do things differently. What comes to my mind is a line from a Bob Dylan song called I Want You. The line is `blow into his face with scorn’. Yes in Mumbai our cops do things differently. No breathalyzer shreathalizer for us. You are to breath into a cops face. If you smell of alcohol `Gheun Taak’.

It's not a dentist. Its a cop.

Yes we are different.

Theek Hai, it's only a denting and painting job.

It’s been a busy time with NRI’s in town, some reasonable weather and general running around. A lot has happened in the last two weeks.

Dented and painted Sachin Tendulkar has hung up his ODI boots. Someone wrote an absolutely melodramatic, cliché filled and tear jerking letter in the style of the best Bollywood pot boilers to his fans. This was a hoax, luckily the writer has not gone to jail or been burnt or stoned by Sachin's adoring fans. This letter I happened to see as it was posted on Facebook by his fans, some of whom are my friends on Facebook. I must clean up my Facebook account!

Then we had a gang rape in Delhi and that has led to protests, furious debates on TV, angry columns in our newspapers, calls for resignation, chemical castrations, candlelit marches, the Mango people party jumping in to help Mango people, our political leaders scoring points, own goals and putting their feet into their mouths. Much fire and brimstone.

At one point I was captivated by a heated television debate. Among the array of participants was a monkey cap clad Dr. Abhisheik Manu Singhvi an ex Congress spokesperson. He is an ex spokesperson as he was lucky enough to get a `BJ’, in his office with TV cameras running, from a lady who he promised judgeship to provided she did a suck job, literally. He was on TV in a debate on women’s rights. Fine choice I must say. Along with him was our own Marathi Mulgi Shobhaa De who has made a fortune selling soft porn books. Does soft porn or porn for that matter, place women on a very high pedestal or does it degrade them? The latter I think but who am I to say anything, I am just a blogger. I presume having written many soft porn books gives her the necessary qualifications to speak about women’s rights.

Then our venerable Prime Minister, whose honesty and integrity cannot be questioned, says, `Theek Hai?’. I have been much happier and feeling much safer after his most reassuring speech.

Following the warm happy feeling I got after listening to our Prime Minister, I felt that it was safe for me and HRH the Queen to take the short walk from home to St. Andrews Auditorium to watch a Blues Music show. No busses to be caught, and after the PM’s speech, eve teasing has disappeared, plus this is Mumbai not Delhi. We are very busy bashing the UP and Bihar guys. Girls do not concern us.

In Mumbai we are so starved of decent live western music that it is tragic. Yes there are a few live performances by washed up big bands now and then. There are many more performances by DJ’s but that is not my cup of tea. The Jazz Yatra is a thing of the distant past. At best today we have really obscure jazz musicians on some sort of government grant touring India. This promised to be a good show. On the bill were 2 bands, the first a Pune based outfit and the second; probably India’s finest band, Soulmate from Shillong. With booze companies finding fewer and fewer avenues to advertise, they now sponsor music performances. This means that we can sample their products either free or at discounted prices. It is nice to have a civilised drink or two before a show.

The first band, Pune based Smokestack was an unmitigated disaster. They were awful. Guitars kept going out of tune. They did not have a set list, the band rambled on almost like a jam or a rehearsal, the attempts at humour were childish and generally they were a shambles. I was frankly disgusted. You cannot have such performances for audiences that have paid for their seats.

Next up was Soulmate. We had seen them live at the 2011 Mahindra Blues Festival at Mehboob Studios and they blew me away. This time they were excellent. The sound from the band after the pathetic Smokestack was like listening to a proper music system after an IPod. The sound was punchy clear and instruments could be heard. The level of skill by each musician was so much higher than Smokestack. Rudy Wallang the guitarist is really very good with a decent sized bag of tricks. The vocalist Tipriti is good with a voice that sounds at times like the goofy Macy Gray to the booming Etta James. She had all the moves, she has great stage presence, a great voice and dances sinuously. The audience was enthralled. This was a very good band. I cannot even imagine how proud they must have felt when they opened for Santana at the Delhi F1 post race concert. At one point Carlos Santana came onstage and jammed with them. They are from Shillong, a part of India that is much neglected. Supremely talented and great to watch. Soulmate does visit Mumbai and other Indian cities for shows quite often. I recommend you keep your eyes open for any adverts saying when they are next going to be in your city. Do watch them; you will not be disappointed at all.

So folks, we are coming to the end of 2012. India continues to be bashed in every way possible. Our poor Government is struggling with a severe case of Murphy’s Law. Anything that can go wrong is going wrong. It’s a pity they are shattered by this but their pomposity and passing the buck style of operation has to change not only for them but for us and for India.

Wasabi by Morimoto Taj Mahal Mumbai

This is my 200th post! I never thought I would last so long. But I am still as enthusiastic about writing today as I was 199 posts ago.

There are so many thoughts going thru my mind simultaneously that I do not know where to start. If this post reads a little scatty or disjointed, please excuse me.

A few basic facts and prejudices. Neither HRH the Queen of Kutch nor I have much regard or respect for any of the restaurants in the Taj Mahal or the Taj President in Mumbai. They are uniformly over hyped, careless, riding on past glory, and in an international context, useless. Really useless. There is no value for money and service standards are abysmal. The food generally is a joke. If you think I am being overly critical or harsh, do read further and have a look at the photographs. After that I am sure you will be convinced. You must have read my posts on Masala Kraft and Thai Pavillion. If not please do read them before going further. I would not pay for a meal at any restaurant in the Taj hotels in Mumbai.

Having set the tone, on Friday, HRH the Queen of Kutch’s Aunt, a mega lawyer, invited us for dinner to either the Golden Dragon [the Sichuan Chinese Restaurant at Taj Mahal Mumbai] or Wasabi by Morimoto [the Japanese Restaurant also at Taj Mahal Mumbai]. We chose Wasabi, the darling of the sophisticates in South Bombay, the haunt of internationally travelled Jains, Khandelwals and Shahs. Wasabi is also the darling of the Kriplanis. Anyway, the plan was to meet in the lobby of the Taj Mahal at 7.45, wet our whistles at the Harbour Bar and go to our reserved table at 8.30. Since we had to travel the longest distance, naturally, we ended up in the lobby first and sat at a sofa to wait.

What a glorious sight awaited us. A very dodgy young lady was sitting in front of us in a rather casual way, her feet on the sofa and sandals on the floor busy texting. I was flabbergasted!! I apologise for the quality of the photograph but it was taken from HRH the Queen’s mobile phone. This in the lobby of an iconic hotel. Where was the staff? Could one of the several black suited men not walk up to her and ask, `are you waiting for someone?’ or `do you need any help?’. I would not put my feet on my sofa at home. Here was someone in the Taj putting their feet up on a public sofa!! What happens to someone who sits there after she vacates? Phew!! Bad start. Blood pressure rising.

Dodgy lady - feet up

Soon our host and other guests arrived and we retreated to the famous Harbour Bar. The Taj website says of the Harbour Bar “A stylish and sophisticated retreat for a drink or an informal meal, Harbour Bar first opened its doors to the discerning Mumbai gentlemen in 1933 and has since played host to decades of high-powered rendezvous”. It goes on to say, and I once again quote from the Taj website “This historical prestige is reflected in the center bar, a solid carved piece of white marble that denotes the potency of a bygone era but boasts a fresh new face for Mumbai's new generation of movers and shakers.” At 8.00 pm on a Friday night in South Bombay during the NRI season the Harbour had just one shaker – the cocktail shaker. There were also about 4 slow moving movers – the waiters. It was dead as Kasab. Poor joke, poor taste, but I could not resist that. Anyway, we were having a merry time enjoying our libations, so the host requested the restaurant reservation to be shifted to 9.00 pm from 8.30 pm. Smarty pants waiter comes up and says that we have to surrender the table at 10.30 pm as they have another seating. Blood pressure rises further. Why did they not tell us this when we booked at 8.30 that there was a 2 hour turn around slot? I said that we would leave by 10.30 if they served us quickly and did not muck about. The cheek of the man!! Blood pressure rises further.

At 9.00 pm we went to Wasabi which was a level up [I mean that physically]. The restaurant was empty. I asked sarcastically if we could have the table or did they want it back at 10.30, no problem they said, you can have the table. Two tables occupied of which one was by Raymond Bickson the Managing Director of the Indian Hotels company. All waiters attention was focussed on, yes, Mr Bickson. How typically Indian. Ignore the paying customer and curry favour with the boss who is eating free. It took a few attempts to ask for a drinks menu, a food menu and finally place the orders. Just when placing the order, our waiter magically disappears while HRH the Queen is mid sentence. Mr. Bickson wanted some salt I presume. Drinks ordered and food ordered. My beer turns up and the rest of the drinks take eons. Restaurant still serving only 5 other people!

Then up comes an Amuse Bouche a good 45 minutes after we were seated. A square cube in a very large plate. It was a UFO, unidentified fried object, which is what most Amuse Bouches in India are. I ask, `is this vegetarian?’ Yes is the answer. So I probe further `is this Jain?’ ‘I will check’ was the reply. I have still not got the answer! Anyway, we ate it. Some sort of deep fried starch – Yam or suchlike. Non descript with as much character as boiled rice.

The UFO - Amuse Buoche

The Host and HRH sister are vegetarian. So they ordered as their starter, a bowl of boiled Edamame Beans. Maybe this stuff thrills vegetarians, but there is just so much excitement one can have with plain boiled beans.

Boiled Edamame beans

HRH the Queen ordered what is regarded as a special dish at Wasabi – Rock Shrimp Tempura with Spicy Mustard. Large helping, crisp batter, light batter but unfortunately after Mr Bickson asked for the salt, the salt did not go back to the kitchen. After lashings of salt the dish improved. Again, nothing out of the ordinary, just straightforward deep fried Shrimp Pakoras with a sweetish wasabi. No hint of a spicy mustard kick at all.

Rock Shrimp Tempura

I ordered another speciality as my starter. The Salmon Avocado Tacos. This was a dish that would warm the cockles of Tarla Dalal except it had Salmon. A mini Taco shell filled with chopped Salmon with sweet Mayonnaise and garnished with a slice of Jalapeno. The dish was conceived for a children’s birthday party, it was infantile in the extreme. Now here is something that I found peculiar. It’s an accepted convention that whatever is placed on a plate should be edible [toothpicks apart]. This includes garnishes. On picking up a Taco I noticed a small cylinder on the plate which had been placed to hold the Taco shell upright. I put this in my mouth thinking it was edible and would be a sort of savoury biscuit. It turned out to be pieces of wood. Shocking. Have a look. On seeing this, blood pressure rises further.

Salmon Avocado Tacos

The wooden chips supporting the Taco

For our mains, the Host ordered Asparagus Youganyaki – Flambé Asparagus on Volcano Stone. This comprised of a few Asparagus stalks, onion and red and yellow peppers placed on a heated stone. The waiters then poured some Brandy and flambéed the dish. I could not believe what the Host was eating. It was like a half dish, no starch no protein just some cheap vegetables besides the Asparagus. It was like a garnish you get with a steak that had been turned into a main course. I thought this was like going to Kobe/Yoko Sizzlers and telling them I want a sizzler with only onion, capsicum and asparagus. I want no chicken, steak, potato, noodles, paneer or cutlet of any sort. Just a tiny portion of sizzling vegetables. Amazing, wonders never cease. You can really doll up any rubbish and serve it to Vegetarians and they are happy so long as it sizzles, sings or dances, comes in a fancy container or is crunchy or better still spicy.

The final burnt offering - Vegetables, onions basically

HRH Sister ordered Cha Soba which is Chilled green tea noodles with chopped scallion, sesame seeds, fresh wasabi, dashi - soy sauce for dipping. All she got was a fake bamboo dish with gluggy lurid green noodles. The look of horror on her face was priceless. What would have been acceptable was if the two dishes, the Soba Noodles and the Asparagus were combined in some sort of way. The Asparagus dish had no staple or protein and the Soba Noodle was only staple with no vegetable. Do people really pay for this kind of food?

Cha Soba Noodles. 

Those two dishes were enough to instil the deepest fear in me. I had ordered Surf & Turf. This was a steak and two tempura prawns. The plate came was so large that it covered my entire section of the table. The steak was reasonably good meat. However the sauce on top was sickly sweet, really really sweet. The jumbo prawns were MRF Tyres. I could not eat more than a quarter of this dish. Mind you, no vegetables for me. Why? I have no idea. I know food can be sweet, Gujarati food is sweet, but this food took the biscuit, it was almost like a dessert, it was that sweet.

Surf & Turf

See the size of the plate

HRH the Queen of Kutch ordered Miso Marinated Black Cod. This was probably made in the Balrampur Chinni Factory, it was that sweet. The Cod had a most peculiar texture, probably because of the marinade. I am being kind here. It’s also possible that the Cod had been cooked to death and the texture had nothing to do with the marinade. The Cod was on a plate with a horribly sweet sauce squirted all over. The plate also had what looked like black olives. I tasted one; it was some sort of bean that had been cooked in sugar syrup. Ghastly.

Miso Marinated Black Cod 

All the food was rubbish, sweet, childish, incomplete and misconceived. I cannot believe anyone paying for this. While writing this I decided to look at the prices of Sushi at one of the better know and more expensive Japanese Restaurants in London. Umu which has one Michelin Starr is in Mayfair which is one of London’s most expensive neighbourhoods. I am setting down in a table the prices of similar Sushi in the two restaurants. You should find it illuminating. I am not going to explain why I am doing so. Just compare and ask yourself, what the heck is going on? This information is from the respective websites of Wasabi and Umu. I am adding 30% to the Wasabi price to include taxes.

Sushi	Wasabi price in Rs	Wasabi price in GBP @ Rs 85	Umu price in Rs @ 1 GBP = Rs 85	Umu price in GBP
Ika – Squid	585	6.8	255	3
Ikura – Salmon Roe	618	7.25	425	5
Hotake - Scallop	682	8	425	5
Uni – Sea Urchin	1170	13.75	680	8
Unagi - Eel	618	7.25	383	4.50

Umu menu

Wasabi menu

Needless to say, we had no dessert. Also needless to say HRH the Queen and myself came home hungry and fairly angry.

The service was uncaring and jerky. In a restaurant of this standard not having all people’s food being brought out at the same time is unacceptable. 3 of us got our food more or less at the same time, while the host had to wait eons for her wretched Asparagus to turn up. If you left the restaurant to go to the toilet, your napkin was left as is. No one folded it away to indicate the diner is missing. This is something that any reasonable restaurant in the West would do. Why the Taj has to be like this I cannot for the life of me understand.

In conclusion, we all had a fantastic evening despite the food and service. The food was an absolute disaster, every dish was bad. I know that I will not visit the Taj to eat. If someone invites me, I will go only after having failed to convince the person it’s a bad idea.

The law, the delays, what is going on?

I am a lawyer. My maternal grandfather was a lawyer as was my father. 2 of my father’s brothers are lawyers. My mother’s brother is a lawyer. HRH the Queen of Kutch’s father is a lawyer. As is her mother’s sister. All of us are honest, hard working and looking at completion of the legal task at hand. No, I am not writing my CV. I for one like to conclude a legal transaction, and move on to something else. Almost without exception, all the lawyers I have worked with are like this, wanting to get on with things.

However, I often despair at the state of things in our Courts. Judicial delays have, in my view, affected each and every one of us in so many ways. We have no fear of the law, no fear of the law enforcement machinery; we do not understand the consequences of our wrongs as we have never seen the guilty being punished. Lawlessness, law breaking and violation are literally all around. You can be reasonably certain that the house you are living in is illegal in some way, an enclosed balcony or a changed door is just two examples. Hawkers, encroachers, temples, restaurants, and shops everything is illegal in some way. We have so many laws to regulate every aspect of our lives it’s frightening.

Let me give you just two examples of judicial delays. In both examples, I am personally involved. The sheer idiocy and present irrelevance of the two cases boggles my mind.

Circa 1990 I was an employee at Crawford Bayley & Co a highly reputed law firm. As an assistant, I was entrusted with a case where a private company was the subject of a takeover battle between two brothers. After the usual legal wrangling, our client, a foreigner, got control of the company. As was the practice, I was appointed a director of this company for a few days till our client identified other individuals to become directors. At this point I resigned. I must have been a director for at most 2 weeks. Client was happy, he was in control of the company and he disappeared.

Fast forward to September 2005, I got a call from the Crime Branch asking me to report to the Crawford Market police station to record my statement. I was mystified. I could not for the life of me figure out what was happening. When I met the Inspector I found out that the client had thereafter been swindled by the company’s officers and he had filed a complaint. The Police wanted me to confirm that I was in fact a director of the company for a few days and that on my resignation the relevant form 32 had been filed. I confirmed both facts.

Fast forward to October 2012, I am summoned to the Magistrate Court handling Economic Offences as a witness to confirm, yes, you guessed it, that I was in fact a director of the company for a few days and that on my resignation the relevant form 32 had been filed. I did attend. Needless to say the case was adjourned. Next date 14 January 2013. I have to now appear on every date or else a warrant for my arrest will be issued. Despite my wanting to confirm the facts, I cannot do so till the trial `starts’. For that to happen, the complainant - the foreigner client, has to come to Mumbai to attend the hearings. The trial will not go on day to day but for a few minutes, at best, sporadically. Will the client make the ardours journey to India every few month for this trial? I doubt it. So I will have to keep going to Court every date for the foreseeable future. Have I delayed this trial? No. Am I willing to co-operate and confirm what I had done? Yes. Have the accused delayed the trial? I do not know. Why can the Court not relieve me? Because that is the way the law operates. Dead case, uninterested Court, no conclusion and the charade will go on.        

Second case. June 2000, in the days of the infancy of the internet, a law student in Pune typed sexual intercourse”, “unnatural sex”, “nude women”, “animal sex” and “sex" in the `Search’ box on the portal Rediff.com. Needless to say the query threw up several answers, several of which were obscene. Our student was grossly offended by this and promptly filed a complaint in the Magistrates Court stating that Rediff was distributing, publicly exhibiting, and putting into circulation obscene, lascivious, pornographic and objectionable materials, photographs, pictures, writings, stories and other materials. To cut a long story short, the Magistrate was rather impressed and a Complaint was filed stating that Rediff was guilty of obscenity. Each of the directors was also made an accused. So there is a case in the Pune Court that is pending even today. Of course a Writ was filed in the High Court and the proceedings in Pune stayed.

Do you realise how utterly trivial and meaningless this case is? Today does anyone care about obscenity on the Internet? Of course there is loads of pornography on the Internet; it’s the most searched item. But do we have sleepless night about this? Is this something that needs a complaint in a Magistrates Court? But, once again the case is pending. It’s pending not only in Pune but in the High Court as well. Is anyone actively delaying the conclusion of this case? No. Would all parties in question not want the case to be heard and decided? Of course yes. It’s now almost 13 years since this case was lodged.

Both cases are in today’s context totally meaningless. In both cases, actual costs continue to be incurred by parties in engaging lawyers and paying their fees. Notional costs of loss of time are not even taken into account. Courts and consequently the Government also incur costs. Storage of case papers, security, having the judicial infrastructure kept in motion – Magistrates, Clerks, Public Prosecutors, Police Constables – all cost money. What boggles my mind is who is benefiting from this? The relevance of the so called wrongs itself are so trivial today.

In a situation like this where there is really no one who is manipulating the Judiciary or the law enforcement machinery, there are such gross delays. If any of the parties to either litigation were `Jugaad’ experts I shudder to think what would happen. They could make papers disappear, make papers appear, delay the case, influence the Public Prosecutors. Lawyers appearing in these courts are just so unwilling to carry on with a case. It’s hard work arguing a case. They just want dates and prolong the outcome. Judges are so demotivated and so caught up with the lethargy and despondentness that they too have lost the will to ensure that a trial commences or goes on in a meaningful way.

This single aspect, delay in courts, has damaged our society in ways that I am unsure Courts themselves know or realise.