23 April 2013

Mumbai diary

So here I am, with my kids at Mumbai's Chatrapati Shivaji International Airport. I'm taking the girls with me, for a holiday, to Singapore.

For those not in the loop, the Other Half recently realised that he's never watched two consecutive football world cups from the same city since 1978 . Which would be his way of saying that he needs to move... With the world cup taking place next year, itchy feet started to itch a little more, and we moved. We've moved bag and baggage to Aamchi Mumbai.

The other half stayed around long enough for our stuff to get here from Bangalore, and then off he sprinted to Rio, before I could tell him that the world cup was being held in Brazil NEXT YEAR and not THIS year. But well, off he ran, almost breaking the sound barrier, in a huge hurry to get to the beaches of Rio. So what if there's no world cup on, out friend spent his time traipsing around Copacabana, giving me live running commentary about Baywatch style bodies, Samba dancing, Brazilian Sugarcane brandy, and whatnot. The man who thought that running hurts his knees, was suddenly running up and down Copacabana ("Run baby, run!!")..... Hopefully this part of mid-life crisis is winding down.

If someone's wondering what I was doing during all this, I was the one unpacking, setting up the new place in Mumbai. There were other important critical things that needed doing. Finding the nearest street side vendors for Vada pav and Sandwich, earmark the stall at Chowpati that has the best Bhelpuri, find a pav bhaji home delivery, where's the best dabeli, and did I forget to mention the need to source the perfect Shrikhand? Other minor trivial things need to be seen to too... Telephone, internet, household help, minor plumbing, carpentry, electrical work etc. Well, the way I see it, I got my priorities right.

Now that I've seen to the relocation, all on my ownsome lonesome, I decided to take a long overdue trip to Singy. I've realised something. Each time I travel on my own, I get stuck with the weirdest dude at the immigrtion counter. This one was priceless, and totally exasperating. Here's the list of questions that I've had to answer

"Why is your name different from that of your kids?"

 "Why are both your kids born in different countries?" 

"Why isn't there a stamp from CHatrapati Shivaji International Airport on your passport?" 

"Why haven't you travelled in or out of CSIA before?" 

"Why is your passport so old?" 

 Why this kolaveri? 

 Why only me? 

 On this note, let me restart my blogging after a long hiatus. And here's to a great holiday...