I love you, Bandra. I love your Portuguese influence, I love your villages and your Goan grannies who get their skirt suits “stitched” and your tiny stalls set up in verandahs selling homemade pickle and potato chops, I love your promenades and pink sunsets and shwarmas, I love your games nights and communal youtubing and burrito bars and theme parties.
I love your farmers markets, and your supper clubs and Sunday brunches and rooftop dancing. (I don’t like your rickshaw strikes and when they say they won’t go some place) I love that Janata and Jimme’s Kitchen deliver. I love your lively backdrops to impromptu photo shoots. I love your bookshops in garages and artist studios and production offices and chocolate shops and Manju dosa and Bombay sandwiches guy on Hill Road and Saroj sev puri.
I love your things to do on Mondays and Thursdays and other days. (I don’t like when your venues shut before I’m ready to stop moving) I love your street stalls and junk jewels and best fifty rupee finds. I love photos from your skywalks and the shops who sold me furniture underneath. I love your host of interesting characters, your beautiful women and sometimes men and my wonderful, wonderful friends.
Bandra, I’m in love.









































































































