To Protect And Serve
The couple sat on the wall running along Colaba, with the Gateway to India to their left and the Taj Mahal Palace Hotel at their backs. "The sea smells of people's desires," she said, stroking his arm. "That's true," he replied, " if people's desires are fishy and shitty."
"In this City, they usually are."
As they giggle, a Policeman approaches from behind. "Hey! Have some shame!". The couple break away from eachother and maintain a chaste distance. "Bastards. You think this is New York? Behave properly." Satisfied that he was doing his bit for maintaining Mumbai's moral integrity, the Policeman walked on, swinging his laathi back and forth. Not thirty metres away, two youths stalk a pretty woman, singing lewd Bollywood songs at her back; not twelve metres away, a beggar is foisting a garland of flowers on a reluctant tourist, about to coerce him into buying a month's worth of supplies for her handler; not five metres away, a terrorist is muttering prayers under his breath and thumbing a trigger.
The couple shuffle off to a more private venue. "Let's go to Leopold's," she suggests. "Mondegar" he replies, wagging his head.
submitted at 3:02pm
28 September 2011