Colaba, at last

One of the great, rare privileges in life is living is a long-held dream. Ever since I feel deeply in love with a girl from Bombay shortly after reading Shantaram, an epic story that describes the city in wonderful, lyrical detail, I had furiously wanted to walk with her down Colaba Causeway, the grandest and most exciting and most gloriously Indian street in the city. And we did it; we ate at Leopold Café, which figures importantly in the book and still carries the weight of the tourists and hustlers and families and goondas it has hosted over the years; we bought dresses and jewels; we fended off a wide variety of tempting services; mostly, we soaked in the abundance and the colors and the good vibes. It was everything I could have wanted. MH