Mumbai - maximum city. Mad rushing crowds. Crazy scrambles. Tight deadlines. Tearing hurry. Everyone's in a rush. All the time. All the damn time. Since the time of Rak Kapoor and Johnny Walker - "Yeh Hai Bombay, Zara Hatke, Zara Bachke...." from Borivli to Andheri to Ghatkopar to Thane to Chinchpokli to wherever.... this is 21st Century in a headlong rush to collide smack up into the 22nd century fully many decades ahead of time. This is the guy in the car behind you at a traffic light honking away so that he can rush like mad to the next traffic jam 200 metres away and get stuck all over again so that he can honk all over again....
Mumbai - maximum city.
And yet.... and yet, bang in the heart of this crazy, chaotic cosmopolitan madness, right there in Churchgate, barely a few hundred feet away from the bustling madness. Come with me. Step in. Just off the main road. On the ground floor.
Step in to a world that almost has stopped in time. Come, sit down on these chairs, at these old tables. Time is slower here, it does not rush, it does not even run, it does not have that frantic walking speed that you see barely twenty metres away on the main road. Time walks here. Slowly. Gently. At a measured speed.
Sit down and enjoy your cup of tea. Yes, tea - I am, as you know, a confirmed coffee drinker but here I shall be a non-conformist. Darjeeling tea, Assam tea, Ceylon tea, Earl Grey, Oolong ..... why, even Masala chai, khullad chai etc. Served by waiters from an earlier age. Dressed in white, with green cummerbunds. Waiters who walk slowly. Softly. Unhurried.
Tea Centre - that's the place I'm talking of. On the stretch of road from Churchgate to Marine Drive, two buildings away from the station.
They have these little bells that tinkle, softly, on each table. You want to summon a waiter you lift the bell. And tinkle it. You do NOT make that "Mumbai" noise by puckering your lips and saying "Brrrrrsssssssttttt" or "Pppppprrrrrrrrrrsssssttttt" or stuff like that. You tinkle, gently, and the waiter comes with a smile - not with a frown.
And the food, too, is nice, gentle and friendly. From an earlier age. But fresh. Like the tea. Quiet. Understated.
Now, if only the people who sit there can speak a little less loudly! Can't be helped, I guess. This is Mumbai, after all. You can have everything that you want here. Except some quiet :)
Mumbai - maximum city.
And yet.... and yet, bang in the heart of this crazy, chaotic cosmopolitan madness, right there in Churchgate, barely a few hundred feet away from the bustling madness. Come with me. Step in. Just off the main road. On the ground floor.
Step in to a world that almost has stopped in time. Come, sit down on these chairs, at these old tables. Time is slower here, it does not rush, it does not even run, it does not have that frantic walking speed that you see barely twenty metres away on the main road. Time walks here. Slowly. Gently. At a measured speed.
Sit down and enjoy your cup of tea. Yes, tea - I am, as you know, a confirmed coffee drinker but here I shall be a non-conformist. Darjeeling tea, Assam tea, Ceylon tea, Earl Grey, Oolong ..... why, even Masala chai, khullad chai etc. Served by waiters from an earlier age. Dressed in white, with green cummerbunds. Waiters who walk slowly. Softly. Unhurried.
Tea Centre - that's the place I'm talking of. On the stretch of road from Churchgate to Marine Drive, two buildings away from the station.
They have these little bells that tinkle, softly, on each table. You want to summon a waiter you lift the bell. And tinkle it. You do NOT make that "Mumbai" noise by puckering your lips and saying "Brrrrrsssssssttttt" or "Pppppprrrrrrrrrrsssssttttt" or stuff like that. You tinkle, gently, and the waiter comes with a smile - not with a frown.
And the food, too, is nice, gentle and friendly. From an earlier age. But fresh. Like the tea. Quiet. Understated.
Now, if only the people who sit there can speak a little less loudly! Can't be helped, I guess. This is Mumbai, after all. You can have everything that you want here. Except some quiet :)
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