https://mumbaimirror.indiatimes.com/others/sunday-read/bandra-reverie/amp_articleshow/126324282.html
So many things to love in *Pudding: The Memory Keepers of Bandra*, an unusually sensitive, encompassing and empathetic new anthology put together with evident care by Shormistha Mukherjee, who also runs the popular Instagram account @housesofbandra. This heartfelt tribute to Mumbai’s iconic “suburb” is packed with its greatest hits: Art Deco bungalows, Aunty chic, East Indian cooking, and the long-gone Pali Hill Golf Course. I was especially struck by Murali Ranganathan’s vivid evocation of today’s billionaire playground from almost 200 years ago via snippets of diaries and letters that allow us to “reconstruct a version of Bandra in the 1830s”. Some things have not changed at all — this is Mrs CP Farrar from way back then, but it could well be Shah Rukh Khan surveying the scene from Mannat: “The house is situated on a hill by the seashore; and has the benefit of every breeze that stirs, either from land or sea. The prospects before us are most beautiful.” Bandra is the tip of the island of Salcette, and it remained the southernmost end of the northern province of the Estado da India ruled from Goa even after Bombay started to take shape under British rule. Finally, the Marathas drove away Portugal in 1737, but then, Ranganathan writes, “Salcette came into the possession of the English in 1774 after a week-long battle with the Marathas. And for the next 70 years, Bandra was the first stop for travellers going upcountry [who] would cross the creek on the ferry from Mahim to Bandra to reach Ghodbunder Road. The English did not have much use for Salcette…Nor did they care for its inhabitants, mostly Roman Catholics who farmed the land and supplied Bombay with vegetables.” Ranganathan’s essay is accompanied by an atmospheric antique-seeming scene from Mount Mary Church steps — it is reprinted with this column — which serves as an apt metaphor for the entire *Pudding *project. It was created from an AI prompt describing an 1850 painting by William Carpenter from the V&A Museum, after the irrepressible Mukherjee (who also contributed majority of the essays) was denied permission on print. She pressed on nonetheless, “they may own the rights to the image, but we can work around it to tell our stories.” Mukherjee says “just moving to a place doesn’t make you a Bandra person or any place person. At least that’s what I think. Knowing it and loving it does. My dad used to be a pilot in the Indian Air Force, and we moved every two years. And I always thought I’d be a nomad, with no real roots. But my husband and I moved here 23 years ago, and it was love at first sight. It felt like the air force stations I had lived in. Easy going, non-judgemental, a great mix of all kinds of people.” In 2018, she was diagnosed with cancer, and “while my treatment was happening, I was not going to the office. And every day I would step out for a slow walk wherever my feet took me. Being aimless was a boon, because I got to look at things that I wouldn’t have otherwise. And I also had time to read and start to understand the history of Bandra. And so, I guess I realised you don’t have to be born in a place to have roots. If you love a place and you make an effort to know it, you can grow roots.” *Pudding* possesses a charming retro appeal, which is exactly what Mukherjee was going for. “I wanted something that everyone could hold,’ she says, adding, “And share and lend, and drop food on while eating and reading. (I love reading on the dining table). I wanted something the older generation could enjoy. Where they didn’t have to worry about should they click on this link or not. Or have someone open a site for them. Just something you could dip into with cake and tea. And stop whenever you want. And then repeat that another day. So, you see and enjoy Bandra in many ways, and at your own pace. When I saw the first printed sheets rolling out, I thought this is my dream come true.” Note: Many thanks to Vince Costa for gifting me a copy of this delightful publication.
