Khotachi Wadi

There's something about small towns that's always been very appealing to me. I don't know if it's the people and their way of life or the lack of high rises or just the general atmosphere of peace and calm.

It's funny how the big city life is always like a dream for people from smaller towns and the other way round for people from cities. Nobody's ever satisfied with what they have. 

Visiting Khotachi Wadi the other day with my Poodle, reminded me of how much I'd like to live in an interesting little town or village at some point in my life. 

Khotachi Wadi isn't a small town or village though. It's just two small, peaceful lanes in the heart of the buzzing streets of South Bombay. These two lanes are so incredibly full of character, colour and life, that they make you wonder whether you're still in the city of slums and high rises. The architecture is beautiful and I love how all the houses are so colourful and vibrant. Even the alleys have this fascinating, mysterious charm to them!

The people there are probably used to a lot of photographers coming and taking pictures because they would always wait for me to finish clicking my picture before passing by. 

The photo walk was an absolutely wonderful experience. Although, I think it was even more fun because I went with my favourite photo walk buddy, Poodle. 

She took me to a small, Parsi shack for some mint tea and bun maska for the perfect end to the most interesting photo walk I've been to in a while. 

Cheers to Chikoodle in Khotachi Wadi. 

The Madonna mural which Khotachi Wadi is known for. 

There was one particular house that was especially intriguing. The urge to ring the bell and go share the joint the people inside were smoking was there (We could smell the marijuana), but we held ourselves back. The more I look at this picture, the more I want to go back and have a nice conversation with these interesting people. I'm guessing they would have to be interesting to have decorated their house this way. 

Pujo in Pune

Pujo time is beyond exciting for anyone from Calcutta. It means stuffing yourself with great food and mishti, wearing new clothes, going pandal-hopping with friends and of course, the endless pseudo-intellectual adda on the streets.

I’ve never had the chance to celebrate during Pujo like a true Calcuttan and it’s something I’ve always regretted. It’s been many years since I’ve been in Calcutta during Durga Pujo and I don’t know when I will be again. I still have this childhood memory of clutching on to my grandfather’s big hand amongst the massive clutter of overexcited, sweaty Bengalis. I remember the energy and excitement all the Pujo pandals exuded. I remember my father and my grandfather talking about how they would count the number of pandals they visited and all the food they would eat.

Pujo is not the same in Bombay and Pune. The atmosphere doesn’t quite match up to Calcutta and the people aren’t half as excited about it as they are there. I remember my grandfather asking me how many ‘thakurs’ I had seen that year and I always replied with two or three. I wonder how many they used to see.

These are pictures from a place in Pune where the idols are made. All the men who make the idols are from Calcutta and they travel here for 2 to 3 months to make them. It’s such a mysterious and fascinating place right in the middle of the buzzing city.

Visiting the place made me want to forget about these trivial exams and take the next train to Calcutta, spend the next couple of weeks there and absorb all that beautiful energy that Calcutta is always exuding.