By seven, the lights and sounds permeated my sleep at Sanjeev's and half an hour later I was up and showered and toileted and then there was chapatis and mango chutney for breakfast plus a digestive lassi prepared by Geeta.
At 8:30 we left Sai Baba Nagar on Sanjeev's car and drove all the way to Andheri through side lanes. On the way, Sanjeev asked "Howz the traffic in Portugal?". I was caught off my tracks because I couldn't start to explain the diffrences between normal traffic and the chaotic scene which I had been enjoying from our AC cubicle. Hesitantly, I started by saying there were usually no people on the road. On this, Sanjeev's wife remarked in Hindi something to the likes of "There are no people over there only because of their loss of population". To which I answered, well, there are people but they tend to stick to the sidewalks, wherever they are available.
From Andheri, I took a rather peacefull train to VT i.e. CST, Sanjeev being an expert in finding less crowded ways to reach Bombay. In the reservation office of VT i.e. CST, everything went so smooth thanks to my Portuguese passport. I was in and out in 10 minutes and no queues and a ticket for a train that was long over-booked - but still had a couple of tourist quota berths.
Then, I made my way to the Sassanian coffee place to meet Dr. Rao, specialist in the history of Bombay police and himself an ex-inspector. An hour past and I was in a tiny cybercafe in the by-lanes of Marine Lines, writing a letter to the Home Secretary of Maharashtra asking for permission to visit Thane jail.
With this letter and my OCI passport, I made it inside the Secretariat building and after 45 minutes of ping-pong between offices on the 5th and 6th floor, I was talking to Madam Anni, principal secretary of prisons.
I left in possession of a "I'll see what I can do and we'll get back to you".
Rambling aimlessly through the area aroun Nariman point and Dhobi Talao for about an hour, I remembered I could kill some time at the Heras Institute - being too early to return to Sai Baba Nagar. But somehow, the Xavier's college iluded me. So I went back to walking around without a direction. Then, after 10 minutes of this, Xavier's presented itself, but the priests there being busy, no work could be done.
So I had some Bhaji pao (pao not pao) and a chikoo shake at a pure veg place and started to the Gateway.
The beer licence was down at the Strand's terrace restaurant. Still, this being one of the best and most affordable views of Bombay harbour, I enjoyed my sweet lime sodas untill 8 p.m.
From Churchgate was the usuall crunch up to Borivili.
Coming back to Sanjeev's, I reflected on the various thresholds of the day.
No kidding, Dr. Rao (29th April)
Today, Dr. Rao told me quite emphatically that riding the local trains without a ticket was an insult to the Republic of India and that he had witnessed commuters unleaching violent blows on ticketless travelers caught by the police. Now, him being an ex-commisioner from the railway police and all, this was nothing short than a curse. He went on lecturing me for a good half-hour. At the end, I told him, "Please, Dr. Rao, I promise I'll always buy a ticket from now on...
Permission (30th April)
Today, I got permission from the powers that be to visit Thane central prison. I pulled this one out on my own...thanks to nothing but my OCI passport and a whif of decadent personal charm.
Now, the Story (2nd May)
Yes, you're right again. The main reason for visiting Thane jail was to have a story to tell. But, somehow, in my view, my visit also gave the place itself another story to tell. Call me self-conceited, but I believe Thane jail became richer with my visit just as I became richer by going to Thane Jail. Our stories have thus intermingled and I could have spent decades studying the fort sitting in an office...but going there was crucial.
Even if it was just to assert that there is nothing on the site that goes back to the Portuguese times except the stones in the walls, behind the layers of plaster.
The story worth telling is not of my visit to the jail-fort but the story of the Maratha heroe imprisoned there and who was sentenced to be hanged but managed to escape. Being a war heroe, he enjoyed popular support amognst the Indian troops, which led the British to keep his surveillance group a white only body. While he languished in his cell, with a small opening for ventilation close to the ceiling, the barracks was surrounded on all sides by white guards. However, everyday, a young servant brought horses from one point of the prison to another, and passed twice daily close under the opening of the heroe's cell.
As usual the servant sang a melancholic marathi lullaby while leading the horses.
Little did the English soldiers know that, now that the heroe was kept in the cell, the servant cleverly changed the lyrics of his song.
Now he sang parts of an escape plan, divised with the help of the seepoys.
Everyday, the heroe thus got to know one or two more sentences of the escape plan.
And, on the arranged day, he famously escaped back into his homeland.
My Best Indian Story (3rd May)
"A curious incident that happened to me in the toilet of the Mandovi Express"
You can believe it man, it's true - while taking a dump, my chapal fell down the loo. Fortunately, we were stopped at Thane. So I managed to go under the train and collect it back again.
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