A Sunday At Khar Gymkhana

One of those rare Sundays when one forgoes a laid back brunch, total family time, which includes hubby seriously, excitedly, animatedly and may I add successfully venturing into the precincts of the kitchen to conjure up a fancy Continental, Thai or Moghlai delicacy, preceded by a detailed account of its origins, the addition of rare spices, in-depth evaluation of the delicacy of flavour, and the expectant look on his face waiting for that ‘Aaah..Brillant’ exclamation from sunny n me.

Yesterday however was different..see pics. The event was fun, peppered with some interesting sporty folks and a hugely excited crowd.

Not a great lover of Sports in general but passionate about cricket in particular… loved the play..but hated the coffee..wish they’d do something about it.

You wont believe this but Khar Gymkhana was a regular haunt for me and my caboodle even when(thousands of years ago) sheep grazed there(not exaggerating) at 4.00p.m every evening, while we kids from the neighbourhood, descended there for cricket n whatever. The card room was a single table with a sad, naked bulb overhanging and the only snacks available were ‘bhajias n tea’..How its changed!! As has the rest of the suburb. I am undecided however whether it gladdens or saddens me to see my neighbourhood, unrecognisable.

It does give one a feeling of reminiscence..for the good ole days when Helen( the legendary dancer) was a few bungalows away, S.D. Burmans quaint Burmese style cottage replaced with Raheja Buliders on Linking Road , Pali Hill was a fully viewable hill, Meena Kumari and Kamal Amrohi, a hop and skip away, Sanjeev kumar, next to them..oh! I could go on and on.. there were only bungalows across the whole stretch..we all knew each other, several miles this way and that.

Life was simple, uncomplicated, and serene..I never heard of housebreaks. We lived on the first floor of a bungalow which had these open balconies and terraces and my father never once considered putting up security grills..it was open to view and to the sky. Today its impossible to imagine living in such abandon.

Ours was a quiet, shaded, green road, where an afternoon siesta was not an implausibility..hardly disturbing..the sounds of cars and horns..However, now, even up to 4 a.am. there are sounds of tyres screeching on sharp turns and blaring blaupunkts..sigh.

Discos, nightclubs, Olive and Golds gym..thats Khar now..and ofcourse Aishwarya Rai’s residence.
Until one does not experience a change, how can one value the unchanged?

However, home is home..I reckon. A space chosen for you to live out the journey destined , a path charted, with its stops and halts, and a space to rest when tired and weary of life and its demands..for me presently Khar ..again..( Wondering if it has to do with the initials of my name, “K”??…naah Ekta doesnt live here )