City of blinding lights

"Pheroze, what's with the black shades? Did you finally take my advice and get that cataract operation for your left eye? No wonder I wasn't able to locate you at our usual meeting spot for nearly a week. I hope Dr Dastoor did a good job," Lady Flora was her usually inquisitive self; a volley of questions always ready to roll out in a flash.

Sir PM took a while to collect his thoughts. Despite their centuries-old friendship, he was never quite sure of what to expect from his chatty friend. Then again, she took great pleasure in surprising him with her amusing, sometimes downright embarrassing banter. They had just crossed Victoria Terminus and were headed down DN Road, towards her pedestal.

Very slowly, Sir PM removed his shades. "I didn't undergo any cataract operation, Lady Flora. Dr Dastoor had suggested I do it when the temperature cools down. This is just my protection from the nine days of coloured lighting that I had to endure, all thanks to the gods' decision to light up the terminus with the different colours of Navratri. I did not see it coming, Lady," he replied, his sense of frustration evident in his voice.

"See, there was no prior warning nor did I get any tip-off by the occupants inside the terminus. Gargoyle, too, seems to have paid the price for being casual, especially since he was privy to activity the previous night that involved some heavy-duty lighting equipment. Now, he's dealing with the world's longest running case of migraine, I'm told," Sir PM rattled off to his old friend, adding that he, too, might have to take some medical treatment if the charade continues. "You've been spared, Lady. It was a daily tamasha, I tell you."

"But, Pheroze, what was the purpose of this technicoloured lighting spectacle? Did passers-by actually stop by and marvel at this?" she asked. "I'm not so sure, Lady. But throughout this, I was wondering what my old associate, the late FW Stevens, would have thought about this treatment to his building. The expensive light show must have shot up the electricity bill for sure. What a colossal waste of funds," he added.

"I totally agree, Pheroze," said Lady Flora, continuing, "now if only all of that time, effort and money was utilised for commuter-friendly initiatives right inside the terminus. At my pedestal the other day, I overheard two American tourists cringing at the condition of the restrooms inside. They also felt that portions of the interiors needed better upkeep, especially since it's a UNESCO World Heritage Site. What a shame! Isn't it a bad name for the city, the world-famous railway station, and above all, commuters using its premises? Poor Stevens, he must be turning in his grave with these pyrotechnics, if you ask me. They should be utilising this money to improve basic facilities within and outside the terminus. All this sho-sha can wait," thundered Lady Flora.

Sir PM loved how his friend never hesitated to call a spade a spade. That's what he secretly admired about her. 'She should have been a corporator in these troubled times,' he smiled.

"Absolutely, Lady, you are so right. But, who will listen to us?! We can only hope that the keepers of this jewel of our city and country are judicious about this with Diwali approaching, or at least hire a heritage expert to ensure a more sensitised lighting aesthete. Else, who knows, I will have to make an emergency visit to Dr Dastoor to treat my troubled left eye," moaned Sir PM. For once, Lady Flora was at a loss for words.

mid-day's Features Editor Fiona Fernandez relishes the city's sights, sounds, smells and stones...wherever the ink and the inclination takes her. She tweets @bombayana Send your feedback to mailbag@mid-day.com

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