Bombay by bullet

Underneath the Mumbai Metro in Andheri West

I ride pillion on a single cylinder Enfield bullet, piloted by a brash, braying, fever-struck jester, captive to his unrelenting commentary, which sparks and fades as we curve through pockets of perfume and stench. We spiral down a concrete chute, strung with multicolored lights, replete with grinning, retreating dogs and chattering herds of black and yellow two-stroke auto rickshaws, joining the cosmic traffic flow, circling an epic tapestry from maw to tail, chasing ourselves through the wet, sickly fecund haze of Bombay.

I relearn the fear of being a passenger, regretting the thrill I felt when a girlfriend clung to me when I opened the throttle and sped through a narrowing gap in traffic. I gaze at Princes and Paupers, all cloaked in finery, clawing at the edges of my vision as we pass through, each pop of the piston measuring time like a pogo stick on speed.

Enfield Bullet and pilot

I discover the right position for my hands is to grasp the rear seat grip from above such that sudden acceleration doesn't throw me backward. Securely seated as I can be and slightly drunk after a biryani dinner and a visit to a south Bombay watering hole, I relax and let the hallucinatory light show wash over me. I take in faces when they flash by, the ones that stand out, searching, yearning, questioning, staring, threatening, laughing, inviting, friendly eyes. Sometimes I have time to share a look of my own, sometimes aware, other times unwittingly. What all do I share in each moment I can't really tell, but sometimes I have an inkling of myself fleetingly mirrored back in the eyes of a stranger.

Bombay is, surprisingly, the place I can catch up on sleep, when I lie down uninterrupted for a nap in a sweltry mid-day cocoon. In the day time it is enough adventure to ride a train from north to south and back again and graze when I hunger or thirst. A nap, a shower to cool off then it's time to pull the cover off the motorcycle and join the rush.

Night activity

Sugar cane wringer in Fort area

Pigeon feeding station

Nap time at market

Peanuts masala

superman is a nice guy selling sunglasses

Walkway over Andheri station

Crates of fresh fish

If you ask, what did I see in Mumbai I might tell you about a temple or a slum, a highrise or a train station, a kitchen or a toilet, but really it is these impressions of a city in motion which keep swirling in my mind long after I have retreated to the calm of the Pune plateau and it is these eyes and lights in pairs and hung in strings which draw me back into the city.