A pick of personal favourite anecdotal discoveries on these pages from the last year
Keki Modi, Ellen Modi and Pepe Chorosch stand first, third and fourth from right respectively, at a dinner hosted by the Modis, inviting Hollywood guests. Also seen are Lois Linkletter (centre, in white dress), Naval Tata, SK Patil, Art Linkletter (fourth from left), Bob Andrews and Premila Wagle. Pic courtesy/Maxie Cooper\
Madam Razzle Dazzle
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Meeting painter-photographer Maxie Cooper (the daughter of movie mogul Keki Modi, Sohrab Modi’s brother, whose cinemas included New Empire, Excelsior and Strand) at a wedding, I complimented her on the beautiful bead bag she carried. It was studded with the Russian seamstress Pepe Chorosch’s trademark handiwork, whose classy embroidered creations adorned clutch purses and sequinned sarees of 1950s celebrities.
Remembering my description of famous Dongersee Road denizens in Walkeshwar—Madam Chorosch’s neighbours included Pupul Jayakar and Bade Ghulam Ali Khan—Cooper shared priceless photos of Chorosch with Hollywood veterans. Seen here is one of an evening hosted by her parents at their Carmichael Road home, for Art Linkletter, the showman from series like Kids Say the Darndest Things.
Keyboard queen
Olga and Jules Craen, musicians extraordinaire. File pic
With her knowledge and genius, Olga Craen lives on in her pupils’ minds and fingers as one of Bombay’s finest piano teachers. Strict and intimidating, she could be outspoken, verging on rude. Imperious, impatient, hers was tough love. As if mirroring the mistress’ disdain, Olga’s large white cat glared from the piano top, poised to jump onto an errant pupil’s lap.
Eccentric, exasperating and all, Olga stays widely admired by loyalists. Zinnia Khajotia said, “I’m grateful she taught me from scratch, to build a firm and proper base. Technique and hand position were ingrained till they became second nature. Urging us to ‘coax the notes’, she tolerated no affectations of the body, none of that swaying and drooping over the keyboard trance-like.” Oculist Zarir Baliwalla added, “A hard taskmaster, Olga emphasised playing from the soul, pushing us to ‘make the piano sing’.”
T&T at 90
A particularly enjoyable piece also proved challenging: not easy compressing nine decades of history of the monumental Time & Talents Club. Certain vignettes stand out.
The Programme and Fund-raising Committee presented memorable concerts. The first presented violinist Mehli Mehta, Zubin Mehta’s father, in the Monginis Hall at Churchgate. On a later occasion, to persuade pianist Benno Moiseiwitsch for a repeat recital after a brilliant performance, club ladies acceded to his request—to play quick rounds of bridge with him.
In wartime, members learnt bandage-making, first aid and fire-fighting. Running canteens, they rode in trucks to chawls in days of prescribed rationing. Emerging from grim times, in 1947 a summer ball was organised at Lady Saklatvala’s Breach Candy home. The moonlit night was compered by couturiere Madame Pompadour (Katherine Courtney) who designed the dresses.
Sopara surprise
The Sopara relics: Five caskets from the stupa and a bronze image of Maitreya, the Future Buddha. File pic
Ranking high among prized antiquities of the Asiatic Society of Mumbai (which celebrated its 220th anniversary in November 2024) are eighth to ninth-century relics excavated in 1882 at Nala Sopara, by Pandit Bhagvanlal Indraji, archaeologist, epigraphist and Honorary Fellow of the Society. Having received notes on these remains from the Bombay Gazetteer compiler James Campbell, Pandit Bhagvanlal visited the spot with Campbell. They dug, in situ, a large stone coffer of a stupa.
The stupa centre contained eight significant bronzes—the Seven Buddhas and Maitreya the Future Buddha—seated around a copper casket, which in turn encased four more caskets. Placed within each other, these were of silver, jade, crystal and gold. Evidenced from relevant Buddhist texts, Pandit Bhagvanlal suggested that the 13 tiny fragmented earthenware pieces in the gold casket, with gold flowers, were relics of Gautama Buddha’s begging bowl.
The baker who knew
The year was off to a dramatic start with a walk down Macbeth Lane. An intriguing name, surely. What could a classic tragic hero possibly have in common with the needle-narrow path linking Clare Road (Mirza Ghalib Marg) of Byculla to Ripon Road (Maulana Azad Road) of Madanpura? Today, Macbeth Lane is Nasratullah Abbasi Marg, honouring the freedom patriot of the Civil Disobedience movement.
Finally, information from the proprietors of American Express Bakery (AEB) revealed… nothing remotely Shakespearean. Walked into from its east end on Clare Road—where old-timers confirm the Macbeth Lane sign hung—the gully is cornered by AEB House. “This property was called Macbeth House, bought from Noman Bruce Macbeth of Petersfield, Hants, England, and John Noel Macbeth in 1939,” explained Emil Carvalho, whose great-grandfather Francisco Carvalho opened shop at Grant Road in 1908.
Sloganeers, salute
Some memorable lines associated with the Independence struggle are wrongly credited. “Swaraj is my birthright” originated in the East Indian gaothan of Matharpacady, which produced giants such as All India Trade Union Congress co-founder, Joseph (Kaka) Baptista, and free Bombay’s first Mayor (1948-49), Dr Mafaldo Ubaldo Mascarenhas. Baptista’s ideas deeply impacted Lokmanya Tilak. Carrying Baptista’s words across Gaiwadi, he initiated the Ganesh festival there to unite citizens demanding freedom.
A forgotten hero who actually framed the catchphrases, “Simon, go back” and “Quit India”—attributed to Gandhiji—was socialist leader Yusuf Meherally. With the Mahatma’s approval, he distributed badges printed with “Quit India”, rousing the nation from Raghavji Road where he lived. That battle cry catalysed the 1942 August Kranti revolt in the maidan opposite.
Never forget
Though Setalvad Lane, off Nepean Sea Road, witnessed the murder of Kavas Nanavati in a crime passionnel that shook the world, another episodic memory here has held my attention. Jehangir Towers, tipping the lane west-most was once stately Sagar Villa, a waterfront mansion boasting horse stables and marble columns. Among other families, it was home to the Steinmetz siblings, Hungarian war refugees whose concentration camp experiences moved their neighbour Jamshed Bapasola immensely—“I can’t forget horrifying accounts of endurance and seeing their prisoner numbers arm-tattooed by the Nazis. Clara, Ernest and Eraine were separated from their sister Piri. The older three children landed in India and Piri in America.
They met again after almost 50 years over an emotional dinner in this home. Clara cooked paprika chicken. It came from their Thane poultry farm, which they sold in the 1970s and left for Israel.”
Cops and bankers
In 1911, Sir Sorabji Pochkhanawala founded the country’s first Swadeshi bank, Central Bank of India, pitched against the British-dominated system. Exploring Pochkhanawala Road, I sought Dr PS Pasricha, the traffic plan authority retired from a distinguished police career. He was kind enough to speak from the Amazon forest floor where he was holidaying—“This is a rare road retaining its calm homogeneity. Police-public cooperation began in Worli. Not depending only on the BMC, people formed a proactive residents’ association before those in Cuffe Parade, Bandra and Chembur.”
The transport expert centralised Traffic Police headquarters on Pochkhanawala Road in 1980. At his suggestion, the Anti-Corruption Bureau also shifted here from where it lay tucked away in the deserted Doordarshan Tower lane. As he said, “Ladies couldn’t be expected to approach ACB in that lonely area. The force should always serve with consideration and competence.” Bravo, Sir.
High on the hill
Bookended in the north by St Andrew’s Church, the short southern end of Hill Road, Bandra, is marked by the legendary Mehboob Studio. How did a simple boy from Bilimora in Gujarat establish this institution in 1954?
Star-struck at a tender age, weaned on Hollywood blockbusters like Cecil B DeMille’s watched in tents pitched on the village ground, Mehboob Khan dreamt big. Not for him to follow the farrier trade of his father Ramzan Khan, a blacksmith shoeing the hooves of carriage horses of affluent Parsi villa owners in Gohar Baug. Repeatedly attempting to run away but brought back by his father, Mehboob eventually secured a toehold in the city he longed to reach through a supplier of horses to production houses. The youngster’s determination impressed Ardeshir Irani of Imperial Films. And the rest is cinema history. True to humble roots, he chose the hammer and sickle emblem as Mehboob Productions’ logo.
Jayamala Joshi (right) with neighbours Jayesh Sohoni and his sister Shubha, on the only open balcony left in the Model House colony. File pic
Model living
Dizzied by the towers engulfing the city, I had a gratifying time mapping Model House on Proctor Road, off Lamington Road. After herbal tea, on a torrentially rainy day, in the kitchen of Jayamala Joshi—granddaughter of labour reformist Narayan Malhar Joshi, among the first to move into this colony in 1942—I connected with cultural stalwarts like theatre director-actor Vijay Kenkre. His artist-actor father Damu had lived in D block. “Though never a chawl, Model House combined this interesting mix: a feel of the society that it was and a Girgaum-type chawl. The best neighbourhood to forge bonds,” Vijay pointed out.
Model House’s central courtyard adda sparked experimental and epic productions for which Vijaya Mehta and Mohan Gokhale came to rehearse, while residents like Bhakti Barve and MG Rangnekar encouraged colony youngsters to showcase their creative skills at nightlong Diwali programmes.
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