A Previously Unknown Organization Identifying Itself As The Deccan Mujahideen

My receipt from the Starboard bar
of Mumbai’s Taj Mahal Palace hotel
that Palm Sunday afternoon 4 years ago,
shows that we rehydrated with
a couple of Kingfishers, washed down
with bottled water from the high mountains.
I remember Formula One playing on a big-screen.
I remember complimentary packets of salted nuts.
The hotel's vaulted alabaster ceilings,
crystal chandeliers, hand-woven silk carpets,
dramatic cantilevered stairway and air-conditioning
had offered us an almost surreal respite
from the hawkers, gawkers and untouchables
outside on the streets of India's maximum city.
The next day, I remember catching an Ambassador taxi
back across the foul-smelling creek
and down through the outskirts of slumtown
to the Vee-Tee railway terminus.
There we boarded a train
which we didn’t get off of
until 36 hours later.

Browse the menu at Mumbai's Leopold Cafe