A Rainy Day at Leopold

I always rejuvenated my childhood poem, ‘Betty Botter bought some butter’, and loved it as a tongue-twister. The sound of it was pleasing both to my ears and tongue. Maybe this was the reason, I had very little attachment towards ‘Rain, rain, go away.’ Instead, I would always dive into any opportunity to get wet, when the weather God turned a little gloomy. 

This Saturday was one such day, where the sky turned dark, the clouds roared, and the trees nodded in the direction of the wind. While I could spot my neighbours planning to bunk office, and lay back at home to cherish the rains, I picked up my cell immediately to dial my confidant; a person who bears all my tantrums and never declines to any proposal of mine.

“How about a luncheon at Leopold today, and some street side shopping by the causeway?” My mate wasn’t really keen on the lunch, however almost wanted to hug me when I mentioned about the shopping part. And we set off, fully drenched, and inviting all possible chances of a throat infection.

Leopold was overcrowded that day, and I could feel some connect with the souls occupying the table. We shared a common bond of attachment to the weather, that day. To those fond of the traditional heritage of the city would definitely be able to fathom the deep emotion I intend to establish here. Years ago, when Mumbai used to be Bombay, and when we visited the shores of Mumbai, we often would drop by for a snack, usually followed by desserts. Those times I used to be in awe of the huge ceiling overhead. It reminded me of the dark tales I read in my comics. But there was something magical, rather charismatic about the ambiance. Every time there were new faces, and there was a designed ‘Leopold special’ menu.

Standing in my mid-twenties, I could rediscover the spark that day. Right opposite to my platter, Marley sings ‘Get up, Stand up.’ Next to him, the ever knowledgeable Einstein declares he that gravity isn’t responsible for people falling in love. When I turn around to prove the authenticity of the statement, the smiling waiter comes ahead to ask me if I needed something. Convincing him, that I actually didn’t, I focused on my Mexican sandwich. But the concentration lasted only a few minutes, and I tried to decipher the position of the gigantic mirrors ahead of me.

Then came the much awaited hot and cheesy Garlic bread. Before I could make the effort of satiating my taste buds, I saw only a fragile piece lying ahead of me, and a smiley, apologetic face telling me how she removed the last trace of the delicious bread! Poor me! Nevertheless, my taste buds tuned in to the rhythm of the velvety raspberry cheesecake my beloved friend ordered. I refused to conquer my gluttony and delved deeper inside.

It was time for us to wrap up. A part of me still wanted to cling to the empty plate, and stare blankly at Marley. Yet, that smile of the waiter made me realize about my next destination...