Vrushali Samant's Blog, page 3
May 23, 2025
Madness In Mumbai - Short Stories
A Gangster called Chocolate
“Not All Love Stories Happen in Switzerland. Some Blossom in Dadar Phool Market.”
Tadipaar means to ‘extern’ or prohibit a gangster from entering the city for a specific period. It is similar to being grounded by authorities, as one cannot enter the city. Appointed police officers known as Externment Officers or Tadipar Adhikarees have the legal authority to enforce this restriction.
One such Tadipaar Adhikari from Wadala Police Station externed Chocolate, a 21-year-old gangster. Being a pucca Mumbaikar, it was difficult for Chocolate to be away from the city for more than three nights and four days. Less than a week later, he started missing the city: its humidity, traffic, pollution, packed trains, vada pav, friends, family, and Namkeen, his childhood sweetheart. There were nights when a pissed-drunk Chocolate even got nostalgic about his rival gangsters…
The months dragged on… Despite chatting online with Namkeen and his friends and eating Vada Pav in Ratnagiri, it was not the same. The restless gangster's separation from the city was unbearable.
One evening, during a video call, Namkeen sheepishly told Chocolate that her parents had seen a suitable man who worked in a bank. Chocolate paused to stare. Then, he surprised both Namkeen and himself with his maturity and large-heartedness. “You have a better future with a banker than a low-life gangster.”
Next, Namkeen told him about her engagement, which was scheduled for the end of the week. That was when Chocolate realized that his days with Namkeen were numbered. He had to see his childhood sweetheart one last time before she was engaged to be married.
‘Law enforcement be damned’, ‘pyar sey badi aur koi takat nahi’ – he muttered that there was no greater power than true love. Thus, justifying the madness to himself, Chocolate sashayed into the heart of the city with elan.
The megalopolis of Mumbai offers anonymity. But not if one has cops or rivals marking the trail. Chocolate and Namkeen were talking to each other outside Bullet Building in Dadar Phool Market when a car full of rogues screeched to an abrupt halt. Getting out, they started beating Chocolate to a pulp. Next, they pushed him inside the car and sped away.
A helpless Namkeen rushed to the police station and filed a complaint against the unknown men who had kidnapped Chocolate.
Mumbai Police teams sprang into action. They reached out to the Tadipar Adhikari.
Essentially, this indicated that the official who had grounded Chocolate was now saving his life. Through his network, he quickly learned that Chocolate had been taken to a cement warehouse on Reay Road.
Reay Road is such a dull area that, despite being named after Lord Reay, the governor of Bombay in the late 1800s, none of our honorable ministers considered it important enough to Indianize its name.
Mumbai Police rescued Chocolate from his rivals, who had not only battered him with a belt and a baton but also stubbed burning cigarettes on his body. Immediately, Chocolate was admitted to Sion Hospital for treatment.
These days, Chocolate is serving time in Arthur Road Jail, Byculla, for entering the city limits while he was externed or Tadipaared in Mumbai lingo. It seems he isn’t restless anymore. Battered, bruised, imprisoned—he’d still rather be in Mumbai than anywhere else. Once a Mumbaikar, always a Mumbaikar.
The End
This short story is loosely inspired by a true incident reported by Mateen Hafiz in the Times of India (Jan 2020). As a storyteller, I’ve added fictional depth to an already intriguing slice of Mumbai life, where even gangsters fall in love and the city refuses to let go.
Thank you for your time and consideration. If this short story caught your attention, stay tuned for my upcoming novel, Madness in Mumbai: When Forty Gets Naughty . Coming Soon. Published by Rupa Publications.
“Not All Love Stories Happen in Switzerland. Some Blossom in Dadar Phool Market.”
Tadipaar means to ‘extern’ or prohibit a gangster from entering the city for a specific period. It is similar to being grounded by authorities, as one cannot enter the city. Appointed police officers known as Externment Officers or Tadipar Adhikarees have the legal authority to enforce this restriction.
One such Tadipaar Adhikari from Wadala Police Station externed Chocolate, a 21-year-old gangster. Being a pucca Mumbaikar, it was difficult for Chocolate to be away from the city for more than three nights and four days. Less than a week later, he started missing the city: its humidity, traffic, pollution, packed trains, vada pav, friends, family, and Namkeen, his childhood sweetheart. There were nights when a pissed-drunk Chocolate even got nostalgic about his rival gangsters…
The months dragged on… Despite chatting online with Namkeen and his friends and eating Vada Pav in Ratnagiri, it was not the same. The restless gangster's separation from the city was unbearable.
One evening, during a video call, Namkeen sheepishly told Chocolate that her parents had seen a suitable man who worked in a bank. Chocolate paused to stare. Then, he surprised both Namkeen and himself with his maturity and large-heartedness. “You have a better future with a banker than a low-life gangster.”
Next, Namkeen told him about her engagement, which was scheduled for the end of the week. That was when Chocolate realized that his days with Namkeen were numbered. He had to see his childhood sweetheart one last time before she was engaged to be married.
‘Law enforcement be damned’, ‘pyar sey badi aur koi takat nahi’ – he muttered that there was no greater power than true love. Thus, justifying the madness to himself, Chocolate sashayed into the heart of the city with elan.
The megalopolis of Mumbai offers anonymity. But not if one has cops or rivals marking the trail. Chocolate and Namkeen were talking to each other outside Bullet Building in Dadar Phool Market when a car full of rogues screeched to an abrupt halt. Getting out, they started beating Chocolate to a pulp. Next, they pushed him inside the car and sped away.
A helpless Namkeen rushed to the police station and filed a complaint against the unknown men who had kidnapped Chocolate.
Mumbai Police teams sprang into action. They reached out to the Tadipar Adhikari.
Essentially, this indicated that the official who had grounded Chocolate was now saving his life. Through his network, he quickly learned that Chocolate had been taken to a cement warehouse on Reay Road.
Reay Road is such a dull area that, despite being named after Lord Reay, the governor of Bombay in the late 1800s, none of our honorable ministers considered it important enough to Indianize its name.
Mumbai Police rescued Chocolate from his rivals, who had not only battered him with a belt and a baton but also stubbed burning cigarettes on his body. Immediately, Chocolate was admitted to Sion Hospital for treatment.
These days, Chocolate is serving time in Arthur Road Jail, Byculla, for entering the city limits while he was externed or Tadipaared in Mumbai lingo. It seems he isn’t restless anymore. Battered, bruised, imprisoned—he’d still rather be in Mumbai than anywhere else. Once a Mumbaikar, always a Mumbaikar.
The End
This short story is loosely inspired by a true incident reported by Mateen Hafiz in the Times of India (Jan 2020). As a storyteller, I’ve added fictional depth to an already intriguing slice of Mumbai life, where even gangsters fall in love and the city refuses to let go.
Thank you for your time and consideration. If this short story caught your attention, stay tuned for my upcoming novel, Madness in Mumbai: When Forty Gets Naughty . Coming Soon. Published by Rupa Publications.
May 16, 2025
Madness In Mumbai - Short Stories
The Angry Foodie .
Three friends. One hospital emergency. And a foodie feud in Mumbai.
Chuman could not wait to meet Suvarna and Yasmin for lunch the next day. United by their love for food, the three former colleagues were scheduled to meet at the hereditary Lings Pavilion in Colaba. Now, Chuman could not stop thinking about the feast: steamed pork dumplings, tangy kung pao prawns, chicken with mushroom and celery, and her staple favorite- bacon fried rice… The LP menu was extensive and inclusive. There were plenty of vegan options for Suvarna…like…er... stir-fried beans and…
Chuman could not think of anything else.
She had been angry with Suvarna lately—two months, to be precise. Ever since Suvarna transitioned to eating vegan, Chuman could not understand how ‘Suvi’ could sacrifice her ghar ka khana. Who in their right mind gives up eating crackling deep-fried bombils, robust prawn batata masala, and the 'zhingat' pomfret curry for a “kinder world”?
Women eating vegetarian food angered Chuman immensely. It evoked dark memories from childhood—memories of how her grandmother treated her widowed mother. The latter was served only curry, never the pieces of mutton and fish that floated within it. Grandmother explained that it was tradition, and there was nothing anyone could do about it.
Chuman finished college and migrated to Mumbai. She successfully established herself as an entertainment news reporter. Next, shifted her mother to the island city as well. Then, she lovingly overfed her mother all the Kosha Mangsho, Posto Chicken, and Macher Jhol she had missed for two decades. It was so much that within a year, the old lady’s cholesterol skyrocketed, and she died of a massive heart attack.
‘Lamb and radish soup or pork cooked in brine…’ While Chuman was daydreaming about Baba Ling’s authentic Chinese recipes handed down from his grandmother, catastrophe struck. On his way back from work, a truck rammed into her husband’s bike. He flew off like a fat Superman before crashing on the road. Being a foodie, like Chuman, he too was well padded. Body fat cushioned the fall. And all he had was a broken shoulder. Things could have been a lot worse had he been skinny.
Promptly, Chuman buckled down to do the needful. There was hospitalization, painkillers administered, scans and x-rays, and finally, the doctors declared that her husband would need surgery the next morning. Chuman messaged the two women about her situation.
Suvarna called immediately asking if Chuman needed help. After they finished discussing the time and duration of the surgery, Chuman said,
- Accha Suvi, listen Lings Pavilion will be difficult tomorrow.
- Don’t be silly Chuman, that’s out of the question! Of course, it's canceled.
- We will go there some other time. Meanwhile, why don’t you girls come here?
- I will be there for sure Chuman. Anything for you.
- Haan. Then for lunch, we will go close by to Main Land China.
There was a pocket of silence. And then :
- Are you mad? How can you think of food on the night before your husband’s surgery?
- Array but I have to eat na? And anyway, he will be under anesthesia.
- Listen let's go after a few days Chuman, when he is discharged.
- So I leave my ailing husband at home and go to Mainland China? Tomorrow is the best time. He will be unconscious post-surgery.
- How can you think of food when your husband is under anesthesia Chuman?
What kind of a question was that? Chuman could not understand. He was unable to eat anyway. Did that mean she shouldn't eat?
Moreover, Suvarna’s lecture on compassion was chafing her nerves now. Chuman hung up. Then, dialed Yasmin and launched into a rant against Suvarna. Basically bitched her out. Luckily, for Chuman, Yasmin understood. Promising to intervene, she hung up…and moments later called Chuman right back.
- Suvarna says how can you women be so selfish? Who thinks of food when a man is in the hospital?
- This vegan-shegun is making her go crazy. Forget her. You and I will go to Mainland China for lunch tomorrow.
And the next day they went. Ordered a spread. Ate heartily. Clicked pictures only to spite Suvarna. Then happy and satiated, Chuman went back to the hospital room. Her husband was breathing peacefully under the influence of anesthesia. The surgery had gone off well and there were no complications. So? Who turned out to be the loser?
Chuman was miffed at Suvarna for missing out on such a fabulous lunch.
Mainland China has Thai flavors infused in its signature dishes. Edamame beans tossed in rock salt, blue pea asparagus dumplings, crunchy turnip wedges, crisp stir-fried veggies softened in yellow bean sauce, Hong Kong noodles … And just as Chuman recalled the mouthwatering dishes she had had less than an hour ago … she realized something.
Chuman was so angry at Suvarna, that the lunch she tucked in heartily was completely vegan.
The End.
Three friends. One hospital emergency. And a foodie feud in Mumbai.
Chuman could not wait to meet Suvarna and Yasmin for lunch the next day. United by their love for food, the three former colleagues were scheduled to meet at the hereditary Lings Pavilion in Colaba. Now, Chuman could not stop thinking about the feast: steamed pork dumplings, tangy kung pao prawns, chicken with mushroom and celery, and her staple favorite- bacon fried rice… The LP menu was extensive and inclusive. There were plenty of vegan options for Suvarna…like…er... stir-fried beans and…
Chuman could not think of anything else.
She had been angry with Suvarna lately—two months, to be precise. Ever since Suvarna transitioned to eating vegan, Chuman could not understand how ‘Suvi’ could sacrifice her ghar ka khana. Who in their right mind gives up eating crackling deep-fried bombils, robust prawn batata masala, and the 'zhingat' pomfret curry for a “kinder world”?
Women eating vegetarian food angered Chuman immensely. It evoked dark memories from childhood—memories of how her grandmother treated her widowed mother. The latter was served only curry, never the pieces of mutton and fish that floated within it. Grandmother explained that it was tradition, and there was nothing anyone could do about it.
Chuman finished college and migrated to Mumbai. She successfully established herself as an entertainment news reporter. Next, shifted her mother to the island city as well. Then, she lovingly overfed her mother all the Kosha Mangsho, Posto Chicken, and Macher Jhol she had missed for two decades. It was so much that within a year, the old lady’s cholesterol skyrocketed, and she died of a massive heart attack.
‘Lamb and radish soup or pork cooked in brine…’ While Chuman was daydreaming about Baba Ling’s authentic Chinese recipes handed down from his grandmother, catastrophe struck. On his way back from work, a truck rammed into her husband’s bike. He flew off like a fat Superman before crashing on the road. Being a foodie, like Chuman, he too was well padded. Body fat cushioned the fall. And all he had was a broken shoulder. Things could have been a lot worse had he been skinny.
Promptly, Chuman buckled down to do the needful. There was hospitalization, painkillers administered, scans and x-rays, and finally, the doctors declared that her husband would need surgery the next morning. Chuman messaged the two women about her situation.
Suvarna called immediately asking if Chuman needed help. After they finished discussing the time and duration of the surgery, Chuman said,
- Accha Suvi, listen Lings Pavilion will be difficult tomorrow.
- Don’t be silly Chuman, that’s out of the question! Of course, it's canceled.
- We will go there some other time. Meanwhile, why don’t you girls come here?
- I will be there for sure Chuman. Anything for you.
- Haan. Then for lunch, we will go close by to Main Land China.
There was a pocket of silence. And then :
- Are you mad? How can you think of food on the night before your husband’s surgery?
- Array but I have to eat na? And anyway, he will be under anesthesia.
- Listen let's go after a few days Chuman, when he is discharged.
- So I leave my ailing husband at home and go to Mainland China? Tomorrow is the best time. He will be unconscious post-surgery.
- How can you think of food when your husband is under anesthesia Chuman?
What kind of a question was that? Chuman could not understand. He was unable to eat anyway. Did that mean she shouldn't eat?
Moreover, Suvarna’s lecture on compassion was chafing her nerves now. Chuman hung up. Then, dialed Yasmin and launched into a rant against Suvarna. Basically bitched her out. Luckily, for Chuman, Yasmin understood. Promising to intervene, she hung up…and moments later called Chuman right back.
- Suvarna says how can you women be so selfish? Who thinks of food when a man is in the hospital?
- This vegan-shegun is making her go crazy. Forget her. You and I will go to Mainland China for lunch tomorrow.
And the next day they went. Ordered a spread. Ate heartily. Clicked pictures only to spite Suvarna. Then happy and satiated, Chuman went back to the hospital room. Her husband was breathing peacefully under the influence of anesthesia. The surgery had gone off well and there were no complications. So? Who turned out to be the loser?
Chuman was miffed at Suvarna for missing out on such a fabulous lunch.
Mainland China has Thai flavors infused in its signature dishes. Edamame beans tossed in rock salt, blue pea asparagus dumplings, crunchy turnip wedges, crisp stir-fried veggies softened in yellow bean sauce, Hong Kong noodles … And just as Chuman recalled the mouthwatering dishes she had had less than an hour ago … she realized something.
Chuman was so angry at Suvarna, that the lunch she tucked in heartily was completely vegan.
The End.
