you may want to read this http://www.ghumakkar.com/2007/12/09/pachmarhi-elemental-high/ in your spare time.

all the best

writ about this city,and I concur with his nostalgia

about those bus rides where one pretends to not

pretend to be the driver on the top deck right above

the driver. I do not vividly remember the bus route

numbers but I do vividly remember the destinations,

for I had indiscretionary bowel movements then, and

Hanging Gardens will always remind me of my tryst

with turds. But the boot slide did wonders for my

dilapidated morale, I forgot that ubiquitous ’shit’.

Whether I am talking about the metabolic process or

the utter humiliation provided to me by ‘tsk tsk’

ers is a reason to go back to 1983 when I was six.

So you did learn subtraction and you guessed I was

born in 1977, come to the country club with a spouse

and you might win a tumbler. I do not write, I rant,

if sapna -the whatever- nani can do it so should I,

I demand to be given a column in The Times (London).
Anyway (‘anyways’ for you very South Bombay women,

but it remains ‘anyway’, can’t help it, the queen

wanted it so) I have witnessed awesome Bombay, I

used to be thrilled to visit ‘Mumbai’ (gujju /

marathi at that time) or ‘Town’ (very very elitist,

but I prefer this one as it does not demarcate the

feeling of ‘Mumbai’ in north and south) and I still

am, more so today, because I do not ever and never

have faced soul gripping traffic snarls there, never

ever. When Peter talks of the craterous roads of

Navi Mumbai I long to see those boards claiming “The

City Of Twenty First Century” and want to take piss

breaks on them. Very cleverly though, those

signboards exist no more, maybe we ought to be in

the vedic period, spending cyber cash at a

randomness not calculated, yet to drive on medieval

Bombay, only that those glass structures lie too

much about a promise yet to become.

Thanks and Regards,
Harmony Interactive Centre.

32976440 / 41