Mumbai GPO, the Largest Post Office in India

This impressive building of the Mumbai General Post Office is just a few steps away from the grand CST Station.  It’s difficult to get a decent shot since the trees are blocking the front view of the building.  Speaking of trees, one of the several things that truly impressed me about Mumbai is its greenery.  There are LOTS of trees everywhere.  Old trees.

Anyway, so we went on a Monday.  Though it was a holiday, since the Hindus were celebrating the festival of lights, the post office was open, most probably for last minute mailing of greeting cards.

It was designed by British architect John Begg in 1902.  Construction began on September 1, 1904.  It was completed on March 13, 1913 at a cost of Rs. 1,809,000.

This building is an example of Indo-Saracenic architecture, representing a synthesis of Muslim designs and Indian materials.  Black basalt, with a dressing of yellow Kurla stone and white stones from Dhrangdra are the predominant materials used.

The interiors are equally impressive, but both Masood and I hesitated to take photographs.  There is a massive dome at the center, and I noticed several paintings of rulers hanging on the walls. There is also a small exhibit of old stamps and letters.

While we were busy taking photographs just outside the post office, I young boy – around 5 years old – approached us.  He had unkempt hair and wore old clothes.  He looked at us with his huge, innocently pleading eyes, and said, ‘Photo.’  We just smiled and started walking away, when I told Masood that we should probably take his picture;  it’ll make the child happy.  I was sure he was fascinated by the camera we were holding.  Either that, or he loved having his picture taken.

So we turned and walked towards the boy.  The moment he saw us, he came running, with this broad smile on his face.  And I was like, ‘Awww!’  But the moment Masood pointed the camera at him and started to focus, we heard a woman’s voice (who had been sitting nearby but we barely noticed a while ago) say something like, ‘Paisey do.’  Give money.

I grabbed Masood’s arm, and we left.  Why should we pay her for taking the picture of her son that we didn’t need or want?  All we had intended to do was make a child happy, yet this had all been a way of getting money from tourists.

So sad.

But the GPO building is truly impressive.

Chowpatty Beach

I am in love with Mumbai!  Masood took me to Chowpatty yesterday, which is more commonly known as “Bombay Chowpatty”.  I was surprised to discover that it’s actually a beach because back home in the UAE, Bombay Chowpatty is the name of a restaurant!  And they serve yummy food.

Gorgeous, right?  Such a clean and quiet place to spend some moments of solace and peace.  Well, not really!  I took that picture at two in the afternoon, when the sun was hot and bright.  That’s one of the reasons why the beach appears deserted.  I discovered the other reason just last night:  the place comes to life at night!

This lively beach is definitely not meant for sunbathing or swimming, but for eating.  It is a bazaar and mela (or festival) rolled into one.  I noticed salesmen throng the beach last night, selling everything from glow-in-the-dark yo-yos and animal-shaped balloons to rat poison. Men stand by with bathroom scales, offering complacent strollers a chance to check their weight in return for a small price. Hand-operated Ferris wheels and carousels are packed with children. And then there was the main attraction:  stalls nearby selling Mumbai’s famously satisfying fast food—crunchy bhel puris (puffed-rice snacks), ragda pattices (spicy potato cakes), and paav bhaji (fried vegetable mash eaten with bread).  And my all-time favorite:  falooda.

Did I mention that most of the people came dressed as if they were attending a wedding party?  It was so lively.  We strolled around a bit, just before heading towards the countless food stalls.  Each stall has a “salesman”, whose job is to call in customers towards his stall.

We ordered paav bhaji and falooda with kulfi (I can’t put into words how yummy both of these were).  One of the salesmen laid out a straw mat for us on the sand, where we sat and enjoyed the food.  The entire experience was so memorable!

If you’re in Mumbai, do visit this place.

Personalized Flats

I took this picture while sitting in a taxi, waiting for our turn at a gas station.

This building – called Nazir Palace – was built in 1919.  It’s written at the main entrance, hidden behind the tree trunk and sign board.  This is one of the several other old buildings here in Mumbai.  I find them all very fascinating.  Sadly, a lot of these buildings are in a pathetic state, waiting badly to be renovated.   The Nazir Palace is one of them.

Obviously it’s a residential building, and people have taken it to themselves to personalize their own flats by painting it with colors of their choice.   So I’m assuming that if one of the residents of that building tries to explain his or her flat to a new friend,  he or she will surely add, “Oh, you’ll recognize my flat;  it’s the pink one with matching towels hanging over the balcony.”

She Stands Up to Pray …

… then bows lies down for sujood.

Masood was trying so hard not to laugh during prayer.

A close family friend invited us to their new home for iftaar a few days ago.  They have an adorable daughter, mashaAllah, who is  two and a half years old.  She’s very friendly and talkative – just like how little girls are supposed to be.  When iftaar was spread out and everyone was sitting to make dua, she kept asking us, “Adhaan hogayi?”  Her face was so serious, as if she had been fasting the entire day and can’t wait for the adhaan!  But when it was time to break the fast, she barely ate a date.

Anyway, so when everyone stood up to get ready for prayers she ran to her mother and asked for her scarf and prayer rug.  Nobody had to tell her anything:  she asked me to fasten the scarf for her, went over to lay her rug besides Masood, and stood to pray.   She was so serious that all throughout her prayers, she only looked down towards her rug.  The only thing was that she forgot (or probably didn’t know) about rukooh.  So she went directly to make sujood – by lying flat on her belly, and stayed there for the rest of her salah!

But seriously, I am truly amazed and impressed.   May Allah bless her – and all the Muslim children – to remain steadfast in their faith and prayers.

Dinner, Dust and the Guy Who Wants 100 Children

We met for the first time tonight and there was instant bonding, like we’ve known each other for so many years.  The way we first smiled at each other, asked about family, job, and the weather.  We exchanged stories over shawarma and kabab at a Lebanese restaurant.  We had a great time! He is Masood’s Pakistani cousin, who lives in Houston, so we didn’t get the chance to meet him in Karachi.  He, with his wife and four-year-old son, had a two-day stay in Dubai on their way back to Houston from their Umrah trip.  They’re a wonderful family, mashaAllah, and it amazes me on how easily we all got comfortable with each other in such a short time.    I ate a lot.  I’m like that when I’m super happy.

My precious D40 is still resting comfortably in its soft, velvet case.  Ever since we brought it home a few days ago, we have been having dust storms.  The UAE was covered in a blanket of very fine dust coming in from Iraq, experts claimed. I would never bring my D40 out at any cost;  I didn’t even dare take my point-and-shoot out.

There are different opinions on why we were having these dust storms, which started last Friday and has somewhat cleared out today.  One of the reasons is that the military operations in Iraq are changing the surface terrain there.  Six years of troop and vehicle movements had ground soil into fine grains, sending powder billowing skywards.  Another expert claims that Turkish dams have reduced the Tigris and Euphrates rivers to trickles and efforts to revive the Mesopotamian marshes appear to have been abandoned, causing vast swathes of land to dry up, reducing them to dustbowls.

Then there are these two Emirati men who love a household full of children:  Salem Juma’a, in his late 70s, father-of-52  (who also says he will probably stop there) and 60-year-old Daad Abdulrahman has 86 and says he is aiming for 100.  “It’s from God,” says Mr Juma’a. “God gave me this. I can’t object to God’s gift. God gave me because I deserved it. If I did not deserve, God would not give.”

Mr Abdulrahman will marry again after Ramadan, to a woman from Sudan 40 years his junior, and hopes for a further four children a year until he reaches his goal of 100. His youngest child is just 10 months old and two babies are due next month.  The secret to virility is healthy food, says Mr Abdulrahman. “I have 40 sheep and goats. Every week I slaughter one. I always eat at home.”  But will he stop when he reaches 100? “If I have 100 rupees and I walk in the street and I find one rupee, I will take it in spite of being rich.”

Images from Google