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Updated: May 11, 2025
On the 6th of November, I was put on the Chennai Express, which was to leave Dadar Railway station at 7 p.m., by my Uncle Alan who is very knowledgeable about trains since he has worked in the railways all his working life. My mum had requested him to check my departure from Mumbai since Dadar railway station is a crowded and busy place and I too was not confident of finding my way around.
In the heart of the great palm-groves to the north-west of Dadar lies an "oart" known as Borkar's Wadi, shaded by tall well-tended trees whose densely-foliaged summits ward off the noon-day sun and form a glistening screen at nights, what time the moon rises full-faced above the eastern hills.
I had earlier received elaborate instructions on the phone from my dad on how I was to get to Girgaum once I got off the bus at Dadar and backup information from my nervous Mum on what I should do in case I got lost.
Not very long ago, at a time when cholera had appeared in the city and was taking a daily toll of life, this oart was the scene of a bi-weekly ceremony organized by the Bhandaris of Dadar and Mahim and designed to propitiate the wrath of the cholera-goddess, who had slain several members of that ancient and worthy community.
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