Why the scowl, Pheroze? You look exasperated. I thought taking a break in Bandra would be a nice escape from the SoBo humdrum…” Lady Flora enquired of her friend whose frustration could be spotted from a mile as he approached her near Rajabai Tower. There was a change in their meeting spot and route for their Sunday night stroll; this time, they felt like walking along the outline of the Oval Maidan to gaze at the stunningly lit contours of the Victorian-Gothic ensemble and stately Art Deco buildings.

Yet, it couldn’t elevate Sir PM’s mood. “I didn’t realise things had changed so drastically in my favourite Bandra. Gone are the days when Siloo aunty and Keki uncle would take us for leisurely weekend trips to the palm-fringed suburb. Strolls by the seaside; walks down quiet streets where we would pass by quaint bungalows with porches from where friendly smiles would greet us; we could listen to the church bell ring before service, inviting the faithful for prayer; little bakeries served delicious goodies; we’d even be able to hear the odd birdcall in some of the by-lanes by Kane Road and by the Mount. All that, I am afraid, has changed—it’s become a crowded, dug-up nightmare,” sighed Sir PM. Such was this nostalgic rewind session that it managed to teleport Lady Flora to those wonder years. “Pheroze! That was such a delightful time capsule narration. And what has changed so much that it has scarred you to this extent where you’ve let your adrak-pudina chai get cold?” she enquired, ever the curious cat.