Monday, May 25, 2009

So much for the spiritual Indian experience…

I headed through the mid-day surliness of the city, past filthy rag-pickers and nosy eunuchs, Rohan in tow, to go to a new play group. Rohan was whiny in the heat, and wanted to go swimming. But once at the playgroup, in a sea-facing apartment in Worli, amid a cornucopia of toys, he forgot his tantrum.

I sat with the moms, sipping Earl Grey tea from an elephant patterned china cup, got invited to some birthday parties and had the usual conversations about day trips to Grand Hyatt to buy chorizo and saucisson, perils of Botox and pleasures of microdermabrasion, the new Brazilian salsa teacher in town and plans for meeting at some of the fab new lounge bars in middle Mumbai.

I had my own set of Mumbai tips to contribute now, having been on shopping expeditions to the Grand Hyatt and suburban malls myself. Expedition! That’s what every errand in Mumbai amounted to.

I observed with much amusement a scuffle between two four-year olds over an iPod, till my four plus year old walked up to me, asking for his own iPod.

So much for the spiritual Indian existence! Who ever said the West is materialistic is SO off the mark. Someone should send them to Mumbai.

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