About This Blog
Through a series of seemingly inconsequential yet life changing events, in 2004 I found myself in Mumbai, in the back of a taxi, on the way to meet a man about some suits. I’d never met him before and I haven’t seen much of him since but it was the first of many, many Bombay taxis trips to see men about suits. I have a menswear label.
Mumbai if you’re ‘PC’, Bombay if you love the place, is crowded. It has the second highest population density in the world and I suspect it’s only second because the luxury of space afforded to the wealthy brings the average down. It has some very wealthy people. It has a large amount of poor people. It has Maharashtrans, Tamils, Calcuttans, Rajithanis, Chinese, Europeans, Africans. It has just about everybody, 14 million of them and they’re all doing something. When I’m one of them, I’m doing suits and taxi journeys.
The crowding extends to the roads. The neglected infrastructure conspires with a population who’s driving test is little more than a limb count; with a police force who’s primary job is to wear big hats; and a government vehicle test that can be conducted in the time it takes to exchange a handful of bank notes, to make for some terrible traffic. I estimate that since 2004 I have spent some 1400 hours in the back of an Indian taxi, in traffic. That’s almost 9 weeks solid, or to make it sound really impressive, 180 working days. Half a year. And I love it. Looking out of the window is like watching a never ending Bollywood documentary. An Indian anthropology.
This blog is a collection of essays written in, and photographs taken from, the back of Bombay taxis. I also include a mini-guide to Mumbai.
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