Who is 'BEANBAG' ???

There is one thing that will not have escaped the notice of any Mumbai resident - and that is the 'Beanbag 26407383' graffiti that can be found all over the city. South to North and East to West.  You will see it on concrete walls, on the huge pipes that bring water down to the city from Powai, on flyovers and on 'wasted space'.  But mostly - you will find the graffiti on the temporary hoardings surrounding Mumbai's many new building developments. The spray painted advertisement is as unfailing as it is re-assuring.  As soon as a new building is finished and the hoarding comes down, another one is started and a new sign is made. Love or hate the graffiti, you can't deny that the salesman responsible for these ad-hoc campaigns is a marketing genius. 

A few days ago, I started snapping the logo wherever I saw it as a sort of photo project. But then I got to thinking, 'who is this Beanbag 26407383'?  Is it a real person selling real beanbags?  Or is 'beanbag' actually a euphemism for something more sinister?  That's when I bravely decided to call the eponymous number in order to find out.

But first - a small part of my Beanbag photo collection...you will have to carry on reading if you want to know who Mr Beanbag is....

So I called 26407383 with some trepidation.  Would they speak English? Would they think I was barmy for calling up to find out who 'Mr Beanbag' was?  My driver was already wondering what on earth I was doing making him stop every two minutes so that I could take photos of the signs.  I even had to explain to him what a beanbag was! After all, most Indian people sit on the floor if they are not sitting on a chair or divan.

I was very pleasantly surprised when the phone was answered by an efficient young lady.  I explained what I was trying to achieve and she put me straight through to 'Mr Beanbag' himself! (I am starting to make him sound like a character out of a Quentin Tarantino film).  Again I explained to 'Mr Beanbag', that I was trying to 'find the face' behind the graffiti - and let my readers know whether this was a true business rather than just a Banksy-type art concept.  That's when he told me to come and meet him at his head office in Goregaon West - this morning.

So now for the big reveal (**drum roll**).

As I have now discovered, there are actually three 'Mr Beanbags' - Farooq Ansari, his son Wahib Ansari (whom I did not meet) and their partner Sahil Shetty. Between them, they run Beanbagwala and Dolphin Beanbags (to give the businesses their full names). YES, it really is a business selling BEANBAGS! Climbing the stairs to their first floor shop, I was amazed to find that Sahil and Farooq looked more like two fashion designers than manufacturers of comfy seating. Farooq was dressed in what looked like Italian tailoring - with tapered chinos, checked shirt, blazer and trendy glasses. Extremely fashionable and confident.  Sahil - sporting blue trousers, t-shirt and button down cardigan - cuts an equally dashing figure.  

Farooq Ansari sits in one of the bean-filled thrones.

Sahil Shetty

Mr Beanbag and Mr Beanbag - this interview was turning into a fashion shoot!

I was so taken with their appearance, I nearly forgot to ask them about the beanbags!  

So we got talking about the business and Sahil gave me a mini-tour of their premises - which is heaped to the ceiling with products waiting to go out to customers.  He showed me their range of designs and sizes, all in a multitude of colours and fabrics. The customer can ask for exactly what they want.  I was particularly taken by the denim model - appealing to a more western aesthetic.  Around the back, I was introduced to a few of the workers - who were busy sewing up the outer casings before filling them with polystyrene beads. 

Above and below: let me take you behind the scenes....

....construction of the beanbags

This is a business that has been going for 30 years.  Started in 1983 by Farooq, it has steadily grown into a very successful beanbag empire. I asked Sahil - who was recently brought on to help develop the business - if the graffiti advertisements play a large part in their success.  He seemed reticent to answer but from the 60 calls a week they get for bespoke orders, I am guessing that their marketing concept works pretty well.

This photo of Farooq's son, Wahib Ansari (Mr Beanbag No. 2) was supplied after my visit

So there you are - the Mr Beanbags in the flesh!  I can highly recommend you give these very nice chaps a call if you are looking for a seating solution.  The beanbags are particularly great for kids - and if you ask, they can make you a pet bed too.  And there is more to their product range - like the bean-filled chairs and even an armchair, and the double sofa that can be flattened into a bed.  What's more, they are about to launch a range of wooden furniture.  Beanbag prices range between Rs 2,000 and 15,000 depending on size and design (the upper end is for real leather).

Brilliant bean chairs for teenage boys

Seats for budding footballers

My favourite - the denim line.  A good Christmas gift for a teenage girl.

A sample of the wooden furniture range they are developing

Contact details:

Dolphin Bean Bags

National Library Road, Behind Saraswat Bank

Opposite Bandra Lake, Near Ram Mandir

SV Road, Bandra West, Mumbai 400050

Tel 022 26432062 / 26407383

Email: dolphinbeanbags@yahoo.com

info@dolphinbeanbags.com
www.dolphinbeanbags.com

BeanbagWala

Shop No. 1

First Floor

Suyog Co-op Housing Society

Ram Mandir Road Signal

SV Road, Goregaon (W)

Mumbai 400062

info@beanbagwala.co.in

www.beanbagwala.co.in

POST SCRIPT:
This blog went unexpectedly viral due to the Facebook posting that was shared 1,880 times (as at 01/01/14) and seen by nearly 400,000 people.  The article also made it on to the Midday news portal and the Redbull.com website! Whoever thought that 'Who is Beanbag?' would turn out to be such a big mystery?!

Beanbag makes it on to the Midday news portal. Fame at last!

Article on the Redbull.com website

Vindaloo : A Very Misunderstood Curry

In the UK, 'having a Vindaloo' conjures up visions of inebriated Friday nights.  Of beer swilling blokes downing ten pints before bundling into their local curry house.  And then drunkenly making their selections from a standard anglo-Indian menu whilst competing to see who can eat the hottest curry - inevitably a 'Vindaloo'.  You see, the Vindaloo is perceived as being at the top end of the chilli scale.  At the bottom end of the scale is the Korma - creamy and mild (generally eaten by curry 'wimps'). If you can manage something with a little more flavour, then the tomato based Chicken Tikka Masala is the dish for you (and we all know Chicken Tikka Masala was actually invented by the Brits). Those with a bit more curry muscle will choose the spicier Madras.  All but the bravest will avoid the Vindaloo, a staple of British curry house menus, which is sure to blow the hair off your head and make your next toilet experience rather uncomfortable.  

Sadly, this is a misunderstood curry for those less in the know - who think that curry is all about the heat - and not all about the flavour.  But an authentic Vindaloo - as eaten here in India -  is in fact the complete opposite of that.  Sure, it's spicy but the heat is completely manageable and it has a depth of flavour that makes it much more interesting to the curry connoisseur.  And the warmth comes not just from chilli - but from cloves, peppercorns and other spices in the masala.

Pork Vindaloo - a Goan Delight

What you may not know is that Vindaloo is a actually a dish emanating from Goa (and popular in Mumbai) and therefore has its roots in Portugal (the Portuguese colonised Goa).  The word Vindaloo is derived from the Portuguese dish "carne de vinha d'alhos' which consists of meat (usually pork), wine (vinha) and garlic (alhos). The dish was modified by the Goans by substituting the wine to vinegar and by adding chillies and spices. Firstly, the pork is marinated overnight in the vinegar and spices and then cooked the next day with green chilli, tomato, onion, garlic and ginger. The vinegar and a little brown sugar which is added at the end, lends a 'sweet and sour' taste to the dish which is completely different from the kind of vindaloo you will find in a UK curry house!  Really delicious.

Want to give an authentic recipe a go?  Then try this out:

(Note: this dish requires a bit more preparation than my usual recipes.  You will need to grind the spices for the masala and marinate the meat for at least three hours prior to cooking)

Pork Vindaloo

Preparation time 3.5 hours

Cooking time 1 hour

Ingredients:

800g pork shoulder

4 tbsp clear vinegar (white wine etc)

1 tbsp dark vinegar (red wine - I used balsamic as that's all I had)

2 medium onions, finely sliced

1 tsp salt

10 cloves garlic, finely sliced

2 inch ginger, cut into very fine strips

3 ripe tomatoes

1 tsp red chilli powder

4 green chillies, chopped (I used two to be on the safe side!)

4 tbsp vegetable oil

250 ml water

1 tsp jaggery or brown sugar

For the masala (spice mix):

6 cardamon pods

1 tsp black peppercorns

4 dried red chillies (I used a teaspoon chilli flakes)

6 cloves

2 inch cinnamon stick

1 tsp cumin seeds

1/2 tsp turmeric powder

1/2 tsp coriander seeds

1/2 tsp fenugreek seeds

1. Clean and trim the excess fat off the pork shoulder and cut into inch cubes.  Split open the cardamom pods and remove all the seeds
2. Finely grind all the masala (spice mix) ingredients in a clean coffee grinder or mortar and pestle
3. Mix the ground spices with the two vinegars in a mixing bowl, add the pork and rub in thoroughly to coat well.  Keep the marinated meat in the fridge for 3 hours or overnight - as I ended up doing.
4. Heat the oil in a heavy bottomed pan or kadai (see below) with a tight fitting lid.  Add the onions and fry until golden brown over a low heat.
5. Add the garlic, ginger, tomato, chilli powder and green chillies and stir well. Increase the heat and add the pork - stir frying over a high heat until the meat is browned.
6. Add salt, water and any leftover marinade. Reduce the heat and slowly bring it back to the boil.
7. Add the jaggery/sugar, cover and simmer for about 45 minutes to an hour until the meat is very tender. Season with salt.
8. Serve hot with steamed rice.

Grind the spices for the masala mix.  Mr Jules is very good with a mortar and pestle.

Trim off any excess fat and chop up the pork into into one inch cubes.  I have in fact left a little fat on as it makes the dish juicier.

Add the spice mix to the light and dark vinegars

Massage in the marinade and then refrigerate for at least 3 hours

Get your next ingredients ready - tomatoes, ginger, green chilli, garlic and onion (I used three small onions instead of two medium as that's what we had in!)

This is an Indian Kadai - a heavy based pan that looks like a wok.  I bought this one from Pali Market.
This pan is what lends the name to Chicken Karai, Kadai or Karahi- another staple of British curry menus.

I chopped my onions and garlic in a mini-chopper to save time and tears - fry off in 4 tablespoons of oil.

Add tomatoes, ginger and chilli to the onion/garlic.  

Add the pork and and stir fry until browned.  Actually, my karai wasn't big enough in the end, so I had to transfer the whole lot to a big saucepan!

Add 250 mls water and salt - the curry looks so unattractive at this point....

...but after an hour or so of cooking...it looks like this. Those are slivers of ginger that you can see.

Serve with steamed basmati rice...Bon Appetit!

Water - The Most Basic Human Need

The other morning, I got talking to our home-help Reetha about her daily routine.  As part of that conversation, I asked her about drinking water and water for washing.  Mop in hand, she told me that she was lucky because she didn't have to take a water jar and collect water anymore.  Because now she has piped water in her slum, with a faucet just outside her door. For two hours every morning, water passes through the pipes, allowing Reetha to collect enough water for washing and drinking.  However, she tells me that the first 30 minutes are a waste of time as she has to wait for the water to wash through the system - as it is black and vile and only after half an hour, does it start to become clear.

Washing in an Indian slum involves a bucket and a cloth.  No fancy chrome shower fittings!

Because the water only comes early in the morning during that two hour slot, Reetha only has a limited time in which to wash herself, her family, her clothes and her home before she even starts her day's work - cleaning the apartments of four expat clients. Reetha sets off for work at 7.30 am from her home in Andheri, taking the bus to Bandra.  Between 9 am and 4 pm she will have cleaned three homes in Bandra before travelling to her last job of the day in Powai. This can be a two hour journey or worse in bad traffic. She doesn't take a rickshaw because it is too expensive. And she doesn't get home until 10pm when hopefully her son or daughter will have cooked the family a meal in their 12ft x 12ft chawl. If not - she does it herself because her alcoholic husband is too useless to help.

Slum dwellers waiting for the water truck.  (Photocredit)

Our driver Peter lives in a similar situation (although it's just him and his father whom he cares for, with no women-folk to help).  In fact Peter does not own an alarm clock - he is awoken every morning by a neighbour who passes by on his way to collect his daily allowance of water.  Although some are 'lucky' with their piped facilities, others have to carry water pots to the nearest outlet and then carry all they can manage on their heads back to their dwelling. It's worse than medieval England. 

Whilst I sit here in my apartment with its three bathrooms and kitchen, I can't help feeling extremely guilty. (I feel guilty about many things!) Except for those rare cases when there is a Mumbai-wide water shortage (say, if the monsoon has been poor), our water is on tap 24-7. And although you wouldn't want to drink the water unless it has been filtered, it is at least clean and constant.  This basic human need - which is abundantly used to clean our floors, bathrooms and kitchen (never mind cooking) - really is an absolute luxury for the majority of Mumbaikars (after all, approximately 85% of Mumbai's 20m population live in slums, chawls or on pavements). I always ask Reetha to drink our bottled water when she is here and encourage her to fill up her flask before leaving. Even 13 Rs for a litre of Bisleri will be a chunk out of her daily budget.

Huge pipes carrying water down to the city's apartment dwellers from Powai Lake - as seen from Bandra Skywalk

I have no idea whether Reetha and Peter live in slums that are recognised by the government (these are called 'notified' slums, e.g. Dharavi). If they are 'notified', then they will have access to clean municipal water supplies.  If not - their water will be provided by 'informal means' - perhaps community run or privately supplied by standpipe or water truck. Us apartment dwellers will have seen the water trucks that traverse Mumbai - ironically with precious water pouring out of a broken tap at the rear - and perhaps you have seen the crowds of people patiently waiting to fill up their water bottles. Not only will this type of water supply be charged out at hugely inflated prices, but is also more likely to be contaminated with E.Coli bacteria. 

Typical Mumbai water trucks. Photocredit: Kuni Takahashi

I know through working for an NGO, that unclean water is a huge problem for the children of Mumbai. Bacteria in the stomach quickly leads to diarrhoea and vomiting, exacerbating the conditions leading to malnutrition. If children can't retain food and water, they become nutrient deficient and dehydrated, leading to even worse health issues....and sometimes death.  During the monsoon season, the problem becomes even more serious - a recent study found that 50% of point-of-source water samples were contaminated during the rains. And that is before it even reaches 'point-of-use' in the household itself. Stagnating water around the home can further attract mosquitos - leading to a high risk of malaria infection. 

So whilst we sit in our ivory towers, spare a little thought for the daily struggle of Mumbai's majority - I naively hope that one day, free and clean municipal supplies of water will be made available to the masses...this is a city that claims to be very much in the 21st century after all!

(The fact that there is one toilet per 1,500 persons in Dharavi - is subject matter for another post)

Stagnant water sits in between huge pipes...children will often play, pee in and drink from pond and river water.
Can you imagine???? 

The Gandhi Topi

Having seen this side-cap on a lot of working men in and around the state of Maharashtra - I thought I would research and write something about what I now know to be called the 'Gandhi Topi' (or Gandhi Cap).

A dabbawala proudly wears his Gandhi Topi

I firstly thought that the cap was just part of the uniform of the Dabbawalah - the 5,000 men that gather and deliver over 175,000 tiffins in Mumbai every day (see my post here).  But then I have also seen the hat being worn by men working in the fields on the way to Goa, I saw some older gentlemen donning them on a safari in Tadoba and I've seen them worn by Koli fishermen in Worli.  The topi tops off an outfit normally consisting of white shirt or kurta and trousers (and must be a menace to keep clean!)

I asked our driver what the cap meant and why it was worn.  He replied that it is worn to show that a man is a 'proud Maharashtrian'. Upon further investigation, it transpires that the headwear is much more important than that.  Worn by Mahatma Gandhi, the cap became very popular during the Indian Independence Movement and has since become a symbol of the fight for independence, being commonly worn by politicians and political activists. Also a symbol of simplicity, Gandhi's Indian clothing (kurti pyjamas made of homespun Khadi cotton) gave a message of cultural pride and solidarity amongst India's rural masses. His trademark cap soon became part of the uniform for most of Gandhi's followers, and is still popular today amongst India's working classes - particularly in Maharashtra.

Rare photo of Gandhi-ji in his Gandhi Cap
(photocredit www.kamat.com)

What a lot of people don't know is that the actual origins of the cap in its current form, was part of Gandhi-ji's uniform when he was jailed for two months in a South African prison. Working as a lawyer, Gandhi was in South Africa between 1893 and 1914 and it is there where he first witnessed and experienced racism first hand. In fact, it was in South Africa where he first started fighting for the rights of other Indians, eventually being imprisoned for instigating a satyagraha ("peaceful violation of the law"!). In prison, the cap marked him out as a 'Negro' - which Indians were also classified as at that time.

Gandhi's death in 1948 gave the cap further emotional importance - being regularly worn by Indian leaders such as Jawaharlal Nehru - India's first Prime Minister. The succeeding Prime Ministers wore the same cap (Shastri and Desai) and most members of the Indian Parliament continued to wear the Khadi clothing and cap.

India's first Prime Minister - Jawaharlal Nehru

Since then the cap has wandered in and out of fashion but became very popular again in 2011 after Anna Hazare - a prominent Gandhian - started an anti-corruption movement in India (yeah, good luck with that!). In August 2011, thousands of people wearing Gandhi caps amassed at Ramlila Maidan in Delhi to support Hazare on his 'fast-unto-death'.  The hunger strike led to a nation-wide protest in support of his cause. He was successful in exerting pressure on the Indian government as the Lokpal Bill was enacted in 2011 - giving ombudsmen the power to deal with corruption in public spaces. He is still alive. 

Although the Topi has now become part of the outfit of today's crusaders against corruption, its enduring symbolism is that of Mahatma Gandhi and his values. 

More from my collection of Gandhi Topi shots:

A Koli tribesman on his way to a wedding in Worli

A young Dabbawala

Another Dabbawala (immersed in music)

A group of Dabbawalas in their distinctive uniforms

This guy was part of a procession during Ganpati

These older gentlemen were on the back of a jeep on our Tadoba safari.

A lorry driver at Sassoon Docks

Group of men hanging around in Pali Naka

Above and Below: at Worli Fishing Village