India is an interesting place, a place that catches your eye and yet there is more, a deeper inside that speaks to you. Bombay is no different there is always something around the next corner, in her next fold that captures your senses and leaves you really quiet amazed.Today morning was no differrent, I ran across town to Worli [actually jumped Mahim Bay] to interview this guy for the consumer satisfaction survey I have been deputed on. The interview crashed and burned pretty quickly so I found myself with time on my hands. Wasn’t it Shakespeare who said “Time does not have the same appeal for everyone”?For some reason Time and I have signed some kind of contract and we now get an unlimited supply of each other.
I first decided to go to the fish market at Worli Village [aka Worli Gaon].This place is really significant to all the Bengalis in Bombay because it's one of the only markets that sells ‘hilsa’. Therefore, it’s not all that rare to find bongs buying refrigerator loads of the their beloved bony fresh water delicacy. I’m beginning to wonder why I end up writing about Bengalis in most of posts lately, may be it’s because I haven’t eaten mustard fish for a long time.
Did you know:
Hilsa is the national fish of Bangladesh. I wonder if Japan has a national fish.
I find machi[fish] markets very interesting most would consider them mucky, smelly, cat infested places with fat ladies selling fish. But I consider it to be a free marine biology lesson. You’ve got crabs, various kinds of crustaceans and allot of fish. Umm Bombay duck, and all that neatly stacked pomfret. Come on they're definitely colourful places in the morning. Machiwallis [fishmongers – feminine] are ruthlessly aggressive saleswomen, I would never in my dreams try arguing with them they’ll eat me up and spit out my bones most literally, my mom does but me No. They still manage a smile for my camera though, God bless them.
[I told you they where tuff]
I decided to wonder along for a little while longer, my destination, Worli Koliwada.
Kolliwadas were originally fishing villages inhabited by the fishing community called the Kolis [hence the name]. You’ve left the growling traffic behind you and you find your self in a very large somewhat sprawling konkan village. A very refreshing walk, it begins to drizzle and I prayed it wouldn’t rain. I finally reach where the land ended and the sea roared - Worli Fort. I was alone, you’re seldom alone in a city of 16 million people but strangely I was. It was just me, the sea and a rather old abandoned British-made sea fort.
[Sharing old stories Anew]
[look at those smiles !]