Postcards From Mumbai

The Crazy Guide

When my mother and I arrived at the airport, we were greeted by Dobby, an extremely small man with a long, grey beard and greasy, long hair. Dobby was well intentioned. He cared for a hobby farm at a local school. However, he was nuts.

On our first day of sightseeing, Dobby took me to an Indian music appreciation group while my mother went to a meeting. As I listened to Dobby bond with the group’s leader, I half-expected to see Cheech and Chong fall out of a hidden, smoky closet.

Dobby: Hey man. This music is so good.
Leader: I know man. I, like, saw this group the other night. Her voice is, like, so good.
Dobby: (turning to me) Leader travels to all parts of the city to go see the best classical Indian bands.

Keep in mind that Dobby and Leader were both at least fifty years old.

The next day, Dobby took my mother and I to Elephanta Island to see man-made caves filled with carvings of Shiva, one of the three main Hindu gods. Dobby was determined to teach us everything that he had ever learned about anything. As we walked from statue-to-statue, he recounted almost every single parable from Hindu scripture. Whenever, we took out our cameras, he stopped talking. My mother told him that we could multi-task, but he did not believe her.

Within Elephanta’s caves, there are a few chambers that serve as temples to Shiva. Dobby decided that he wanted to prove to us that one of the temples had amazing acoustics. He took off his shoes, walked inside, and started chanting. At first, my mother and I were charmed by the robust tones flowing from our small guide. However, Dobby, the Energizer Bunny of chanting, would not stop. Tourists kept on walking up to the temple, standing awkwardly, and then leaving.

Dobby’s quest to educate my mother and I did not end at the mouth of the caves. He spent the idyllic, hour-long ferry ride back to Mumbai subjecting my mother to a dissertation on his yoga master. It should come as no surprise that we told Dobby that we needed to go back to the hotel for a nap once our boat reached the shore.


The Astrophylosopher

On my first afternoon in Mumbai, I decided to take a walk along the coastline in front of my hotel. When I stopped to look at the ocean, I met Phaedrus Descartes Hawking, an astrophysicist who was interested in studying creative writing. PDH believed that he had successfully used physics and philosophy to discover the correct Ultimate Theory of the Universe. We ended up spending more than two hours analyzing physics, comparing our respective cultures, and debating questions central to the essence of humanity. I have no idea whether or not PDH was full of it. However, it was one of the most interesting conversations of my life.