Caught up with Mansukh at Elco's Chaat in Bandra. Back home in Chennai, Mansukh's entry into Adyar Sangeetha meant trouble for the staff. Its normal for complete strangers to share a table with you in Chennai. But Mansukh would have none of it.

Once this gentleman nearly sat opposite him at Sangeetha saying 'Do you mind if I sit here?' The 'I do' reply from Mansukh stopped traffic at Sangeetha. It was hilarious. That's why when news of his shifting to Mumbai came thru, he chose to celebrate at Mövenpick ! It had been quite a while since I met the guy who set up his blog to get a gmail invite ! Spent the rest of the lazy afternoon at Barista, discussing his expedition to some caves near Mumbai.. of how he slipped in the terrain, ripped his shoes, and walked barefoot over fresh cow-dung.

Took the bus to Colaba. Crossing Regal brought back memories of 1993, when Mumbai was home. Colaba looked different. Brighter lights. As we headed down, Afghan Church, the Aditi-Ahilya buildings, and maybe if I had sat till the last stop, I'd be asked to get off at RC Church. Had been a long time.

Spent the last part of the evening at Major Gopal's place. I don't know how I would handle life if I were to lose my sight completely. This man does. As normal as it gets. My sis and he were fieldwork partners last year and she told me how much fun it is to have an Armyman as a classmate.. Apparently, the faculty found Gopal's style of sitting upright very 'uncomforting'. This gentleman would be somewhere in his thirties, but the way he and his wife hosted me, and the rest of his TISS peers, was frankly, quite amusing.

Things that one should not do in Mumbai - mistakenly read Mumbai CST on the ticket for Mumbai Cen. Central and CST are different. Many thanks to the nameless Mumbai taxi driver. I made it to CST just-in-time. Was stirred, not shaken.. Ha ha.

There is a higher probability of me finding that lucky Gold coin in a bar of Lux soap than waking up to an alarm clock to catch the morning train. I had to board the Chennai Mumbai Express at 0650hrs and staying up all of Thursday night listening to sound rock music seemed like the perfect way to do so. It was.

Slept throughout the journey and somehow made it to Dadar station at 0630hrs on a pouring Friday morning. My last visit to Mumbai was to IITB, Powai, and I don't recall such a mad downpour then. This time I was being hosted by my sibling at the Tata Institute of Social Sciences, Deonar !

In that incessant rainfall, and nestled in some sort of a lovely forest, TISS appeared to be the ideal place for a lovely vacation. The crowd on campus seemed to be a happy lot. I enjoyed my breakfast at TISS - moong, omelette, banana, coffee, bread, butter and generous dollops of mixed fruit jam. It was fun to laze around and watch the rain soak the young men and women as they headed for the morning lecture. Its been bliss not having to run for class anymore.

All that rainfall had me yearning for some dryland, and Centre One, the shopping mall at Vashi, was just the place to munch and of course, talk. By late evening, I think I had downed everything from a Subway sandwich to falooda icecream.

Blogworld caught up with us and as if all that food wasn't enough, we headed to 'Papa Pancho'. It was a nice feeling to be sitting on hard wooden dhaba-style benches with pedestal fans keeping us cool and lanterns for the lighting - all that on a busy street in Bandra.

Back at the base at midnight. And TISS was as lively as it can get. It was raining. And I liked the fact that everybody I'd been introduced to just seemed to be so happy lazing it out on the wood 'n' cane furniture outside the hostel. These Tissians see a different world studying people. Was chatting till 2AM. Talked a lot about the misery of people. And can't put any of it into print. But I now feel that doing anything out of pity is probably the worst way to serve humankind.

Its not everyday that you get an invitation to cycle down to a horse-riding school, 28kms down the ECR. So, when my 'Madras Bull' Sardar roomie asked me to pedal down to Velkom farm on ECR, I gladly accepted.

According to his approximations, we'd leave at a sunny 1545hrs, reach the place (about 15kms short of Mamallapuram) by about 1730hrs. He'd do his riding and demonstrate his superior skills in his 27th horse-riding class.

Pedalling down the East Coast Road on a BSA Mach1 has its advantages. You get the pleasure of riding against the wind and yet not tiring out. You also get to enjoy the whooshing sound the cars make as they zoom past. Even the Ambys seem to zip past at horrendous speeds. In the crawling city traffic, only riders on cycles get to overtake between the tiny gaps made by bigger stationary vehicles. I presume pressing on the accelerator is something every metropolitan driver yearns for.

Pepsi never tasted better. After a 15km stretch of non-stop cycling and my throat gone dry, it was wonderful to gulp down the 'Chinna' pepsi. It does not quench your thirst. But who cares ? I wasn't crossing the Sahara either.

Velkom farms was a treat. Loads of sand. Horses. Swift cool incessant breeze. A lonely goat with a white-coat named William. And a Worldspace radio playing some music of which I've failed to identify even a single track. Sardar zipped his chaps and mounted on his horse. I don't think its too big a deal to manage a well-trained horse. Sardar didn't even use a whip. Did the trot. The Canter. Made 'Phoenix' jump over some obstacles. Neat. And then horsey flipped him over. That was not part of the demo. Consider the guy lucky to fall in sand after doing a semi-somersault from 9ft high.

We started from there around 1915hrs. The cat eyes on the road are useless because they only reflect, not glow. We had to ride cautiously because we were cycling into dark space. Halted at the Boat House and munched our sandwiches. I think we swallowed 'em in less time than that spent in preparing 'em. Came home safe at 2100hrs, bathed, crashed. Sardar had to wake up early next morning for Class#28. I just had to sleep.

What is God's own Country famous for ?
Oil Massage ? Onam ? Kathakali ? Mundu ? Export quality lobsters ? Toddy ?

Neh, I say. I had this superb Mallu dish when I was in Class VII at a buddy's place in Mumbai. Never again after that, although I've been craving for it ever since. It was one fortunate evening that brought back the wonderful memories of enjoying the Appam again.

For those of you less fortunate souls who have not savoured this Malayali dish, the Appam appears to be a Dosai with an Idli swelling in the centre. The ones prepared at Karaikudi, just at the start of the ECR, were simply superb. Soft and tender and fluffy. Served with sweet Coconut Milk, the stuff tastes brilliant and melts in your mouth. Because the other dishes were chilly hot, one wants to keep alternating between the spice and the sweet.

Shombit's Mom's birthday treat ended in a large helping of lovely Payasam. Irresistible. I really have plenty to do when I visit Kerala.