<img style="float: left;" title="Meher Marfatia" src="http://images.mid-day.com/images/images/2021/sep/Meher_e.jpg" alt="Meher Marfatia" width="200" height="52" />
It is a misty, twisty climb, winding languidly from the Chowpatty shoreline up to Kamala Nehru Park. A rare country lane in the heart of the city, verdant Siri Road links Babulnath to Ridge Road. The old and new nomenclature for this pedestrian paradise stem from interesting origins.&nbsp;
&ldquo;Around 1534, Siri Road led from Gamdevi village up jungle-covered slopes of Malabar Hill through babul plantations to the banyan-girt temple of Walkeshwar,&rdquo; wrote Pheroza Godrej in Bombay to Mumbai: Changing Perspectives. &ldquo;The stream of worshippers from the west coast followed this path up the hill, and, as it was narrow, called it &lsquo;Siri&rsquo; or &lsquo;Ladder&rsquo;.&rdquo; &nbsp;&nbsp;
<img title="The Stocking tree grows only here in Mumbai" src="http://images.mid-day.com/images/images/2021/sep/meher-twenty-six-sept-op_e.jpg" alt="The Stocking tree grows only here in Mumbai" width="1280" height="720" />The Stocking tree grows only here in Mumbai
On the very day I read that, I also luckily tracked down Rajkumar Loyalka, for whose father this is renamed Chiranjilal Loyalka Marg. He said, &ldquo;My grandfather Ramchandra from Pilani belonged to the East India Cotton Association. His son, my father Chiranjilal, was a stockbroker and staunch patriot.&rdquo; &nbsp;
Siri Road swerves into secluded bends and niches. They fork into kuchcha mud paths messily carpeted with curly-dry leaves and dirt piles, hideout havens for bootleggers and junkies. Soft higher foliage presents a wealth of flora and fauna. Birds rap tender to throaty tunes. Which could these be from a trio of feathered regulars&mdash;oriole, barbet or hornbill? &nbsp;
<img title="Bhishti water carriers, Sagir and Khanu Sheikh, at Dongri, shoulder the &ldquo;mashaq&rdquo; bag. The &ldquo;patra&rdquo;, a wheelbarrow storing more water, is seen behind" src="http://images.mid-day.com/images/images/2021/sep/meher-twenty-six-sept-op-b_e.jpg" alt="Bhishti water carriers, Sagir and Khanu Sheikh, at Dongri, shoulder the &ldquo;mashaq&rdquo; bag. The &ldquo;patra&rdquo;, a wheelbarrow storing more water, is seen behind" width="1280" height="720" />Bhishti water carriers, Sagir and Khanu Sheikh, at Dongri, shoulder the `mashaq` bag. The `patra`, a wheelbarrow storing more water, is seen behind
Breeze-brushed trees rustling secrets along the sequestered stretch include sandalwood, mistletoe, star apple, ivy fig, banyan, frangipani, asopalav, sitaphal, parijat, mango, jungli badam, putranjiva, jackfruit, aritha, neem, peepul and kamrak. Flowering in the rain, fruiting in winter, the Stocking tree uniquely sprouts on Siri Road alone. Named for its stocking-shaped fruit, this South American species leans against a decrepit wall.&nbsp;
Though walls make wonderful backdrops, many are predictably smeared foul with paan or pee. Yet, what enthralling human worlds they hold. Vitthalbhai Patel Road (after Sardar Patel&rsquo;s elder brother and Swaraj Party co-founder) and Procter Road (Sir Henry Procter headed the Bombay Chamber of Commerce) skirt Kennedy Bridge. Churches and chawls share walls with a pell-mell patchwork of auto parts dealers and noisy nautch rooms. Ghungroo bells clinking, tawaifs sang lyrics from soulful to sexy at mehfils in compounds below the bridge. &nbsp;&nbsp;
<img title="Dhirshi Jamnadas, Ajit Rutonsi and Jamnadas Rutonsi in their 1934-established Philips dealership shop at Opera House. Pic courtesy/Dipika Asher" src="http://images.mid-day.com/images/images/2021/sep/meher-twenty-six-sept-op-c_e.jpg" alt="Dhirshi Jamnadas, Ajit Rutonsi and Jamnadas Rutonsi in their 1934-established Philips dealership shop at Opera House. Pic courtesy/Dipika Asher" width="1280" height="720" /> Dhirshi Jamnadas, Ajit Rutonsi and Jamnadas Rutonsi in their 1934-established Philips dealership shop at Opera House. Pic courtesy/Dipika Asher
Strolling the neighbourhood, I saw a middle-aged sex worker pin her hair with mogra strands she haggled for. Throwing me a knowing woman-to-woman look, she hit a hand to her head and exclaimed, &ldquo;This phoolwala behaves as if I buy flowers for the first time, raising his price daily!&rdquo; Shifting her gaze to my pad and pen, she said, &ldquo;I&rsquo;m tired of journalists. Magar koi kaafi tiptop Angrez filmwale aaye 1980s mein. Woh log best.&rdquo;&nbsp;
Intrigued, I tried piecing the scraps of information she offered in our casual chat. With amazing result. They were Ismail Merchant and James Ivory, shooting their documentary, The Courtesans of Bombay. &ldquo;Kaafi tiptop&rdquo; because of the respect the gentlemen accorded her while researching for the script. &ldquo;Who won&rsquo;t remember being treated nicely?&rdquo; she had ended.&nbsp;
<img title="Singing star Munni Bai, whose family lives on in Khetwadi" src="http://images.mid-day.com/images/images/2021/sep/meher-twenty-six-sept-op-d_e.jpg" alt="Singing star Munni Bai, whose family lives on in Khetwadi" width="1280" height="720" />Singing star Munni Bai, whose family lives on in Khetwadi
Further in, Procter Road sprang an encounter with an indefatigable personality, right after I stopped at Gothic-styled, 1869-built Emmanuel Church. It faces Mission House, which extends travellers affordable accommodation. Wigram Hall beside appeared deserted at that dusk hour. I still thought I&rsquo;d heard something. Quieting my feet, I listened sharper. From within emanated indistinct chatter. Muffled laughter swelled louder, an invitation to follow the sound.&nbsp; Finding myself on the threshold of a room exuding a quiet energy of its own, I stood tentatively. Till I was warmly waved in by the Dignity Foundation senior citizens, gathered for evening games and gossip. Their showman seemed to be Chunilal Panchal, lording over a carrom board with opponents considerably younger than his 102 years. Clearly on a winning streak, he aimed firm-fingered shots.&nbsp;
When we could talk, Chunilal bhai said he attributed his incredible spryness to earlier days of hockey practice and wrestling prowess. &ldquo;I judged wrestling matches, too. I walk to this centre from home in Tardeo. My family has banned me from driving my scooter here,&rdquo; came his spirited complaint. &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; Discoveries can literally land at the doorstep. At Parekh &amp; Parekh Medical Centre in 105-year-old Parekh House, beside the Royal Opera House, I heard a freedom struggle account from Sushilaben at the counter. Her great-grandfather-in-law, Sir Gokuldas Kandas Parekh, from Umreth in Anand, studied law and supported Gandhiji, Nehru and Sardar Patel, regulars at their apartment above the pharmacy.&nbsp;
Despite the engaging story, my attention diverted to two marble steps inside the shop. Tell-tale signs of horse buggies tethered for 20th-century audiences riding to the opera house in carriages drawn by Arab steeds stabled on the street up to the Charni Road Station. Easy to imagine the theatre&rsquo;s grand facade expressly designed for Victorias clopping through.
Precisely such a pair of steps popped up again next door, at the oldest shop in the area. Jamnadas Rutonsi are Philips dealers &ldquo;serving since 1934&rdquo;, as printed on the visiting card of Dipika Asher, the proprietor&rsquo;s daughter. Of Kutch Mandvi lineage (prospering in the Mulji Jetha cloth market, the family of Jamnadas&rsquo;s father, Rutonsi, largely owned Worli Hill), &ldquo;Jamubhai&rdquo; mixed business with his passion for music, turning entrepreneurial at the age of 17. It was towards the 1930s, with the fascination for radio gaining ground, that Jamubhai opportunely pioneered branding the first Philips wireless set MW 2510.&nbsp;
Nestled amid dusty, nondescript Khetwadi lanes, a couple of buildings are exceptional. Across Bhagini Samaj handsome in stone Tara Mansion has stood firm since 1925. In the hallway of Dolly Desai&rsquo;s home, I was happily greeted by an array of sepia photos arranged in neat rows on the lid of a 200-year-old piano. They displayed dramatic studio poses struck by her celebrated singing star grandmother, Munni Bai, whose family occupied this second-floor flat from 1942.&nbsp;
Married to Dolly&rsquo;s grandfather, Darabsha Dhunjisha, she shone in productions like Raja Harishchandra and was declared Sangeet Rani by fans. Joining Dhunjisha&rsquo;s uncle Khurshedji Baliwala&rsquo;s Victoria Theatrical Company at barely seven, Munni Bai was a dedicated actress. Unflinching, she continued performing straight after a snake slithered up her lustrous locks of hair as she dried it just before a stage entry.
In the middle of fading gentility can come bursts of fun. On madly redeveloping Hughes Road, jagged paver blocks jut out, trip-traps for the silver generation in century-old homes. A grey-haired lady at Khareghat Colony&rsquo;s Parekh Dharamshala wearily asked, &ldquo;Tell me, which street in Bombay is in decent condition?&rdquo; Nodding agreement, I mentioned the cabbie ferrying me figured where I was headed only when I mispronounced the destination: Hew-jis Road. &ldquo;Exactly what I mean!&rdquo; she declared with a triumphant roll of her eyes.&nbsp;
My favourites are subaltern stories, texturing the city landscape with much richness. Ordinary people prove open public archives. Mapping the maze of Dongri lanes, a memorable encounter left me taken aback. At Char Null junction, a group of men sipped mid-morning kadak chai and puffed bidis. One hoisted a load on his shoulder, which I recognised, thrilled. It was the goat-skin bag called mashaq, used by water carriers of the ancient Bhishti community. &nbsp; &nbsp; In response to my curiosity, with crisp confidence Sagir Sheikh stated, &ldquo;Saal athaarah sau unnees mein hamaare baap-dada Haryana se Bambai pahunche (In 1819, our ancestors from Haryana arrived in Bombay).&rdquo; Rooted with pride to his forefathers, he had the date pat. What a fine sense of personal history he harboured, speaking in the most matter-of-fact manner.&nbsp;
&ldquo;On our paternal side, Rehman Sheikh came from his native Narnaul in Haryana 200 years ago. Bombay&rsquo;s new stone buildings under construction needed to be sprayed as they rose,&rdquo; elaborated Khanu, Sagir&rsquo;s brother.&nbsp;
Roads being laid, Bhishtis were in demand. They quenched the thirst of labourers and layered water over coal tar expanses, which steamrollers flattened. Bhishtis washed streets spotless, were patronised by caterers for wedding feasts and supplied water to the red-light area fringing Pila House theatre district. &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &ldquo;Precious because it gives life, water from leather pouches smells musky and tastes of a completely different sweetness. Some carriers store in metal or plastic pots with a stopper to pour from. It&rsquo;s never the same,&rdquo; said Sagir.
Traditionally hand-stitched by tailors from Rajasthan, the average capacity of a mashaq is 25 litres. Providing vital sustenance for Mughal armies, Bhishtis are supposed to have revived Humayun with water during battle. Eidu, the Sheikhs&rsquo; maternal grandfather, was employed in the Raja of Bikaner&rsquo;s force. Desert wars witnessed the enemy strategically aim straight at Bhishti mashaqs. Colonial India trusted water carriers to accompany troops wherever they were posted.&nbsp;
Trade is erratic, with customers now accessing water tankers. &ldquo;Our bodies become misaligned and hurt. To avoid spillage, we angle ourselves so the mashaq stays balanced. The shoulders pain, one permanently hangs an inch lower,&rdquo; demonstrated another carrier, with a marked loping gait and grimacing slightly.&nbsp;
Marginalised, if even noticed at all, vendors from communities like the Bhishtis (of which there are around 10 families today, centred in the Dongri-Pydhonie-Bhendi Bazar belt), bear heavy histories. Whether related with equanimity or anger, they are always narratives of courage and candour.
Author-publisher Meher Marfatia writes fortnightly on everything that makes her love Mumbai and adore Bombay. You can reach her at meher.marfatia@mid-day.com/www.meher marfatia.com
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Unscheduled encounters often form the core of this column. More serendipity on the streets, this time in SoBo

Surprise reprise

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