It seemed to be business as usual. The business of selling cheap drinks and delicious snacks to one and all in Colaba causeway. And few can do it better than Leopold Cafe, the iconic restaurant and bar in Bombay that throngs with foreigners, office folk, rock and roll teenagers and anyone else who chooses to walk in. I walked right in.

The street oustide Leopold Cafe.

On the 26th of November two young terrorists opened fire on the laid back folk. It was a Wednesday and the place was packed with people taking a mid week respite. When I approached the infamous café I had expected doors or some other form of restriction but was greeted by a man standing next to the streets who sort of smiled and welcomed people in.

In keeping with normality and tradition, I ordered a beer. I looked around in a surreal stupor trying to imagine and visualize the awful panic and stench of terror that must have enveloped Leopold. All I could do was stare and sip. The high ceiling allows a second floor, which is darker, dingier and manages to pack a lot of people who are more than happy to get a seat. I thought of all those people the night of the 26th around 9:30 pm and the person who must have sat on the same seat as me.

I came back to Leopold a second time. And I found myself slipping into the same morbid thoughts amid the din of chattering and clinking of glasses. There was some great art on the walls. One graphic canvas had anti terror slogans, blood, the Gateway of India and other symbols of the attack in November. I started taking pictures of the place around me, maybe as a way of dealing with my being in this space.

There was a helpful man who seemed to work there and it turned out, he was the owner. Farhang Jehani’s father started the Leopold Cafe in 1871 and after his death his son took over. “The attack seemed to last for a few minutes,” he said. After those few minutes he spoke about carrying bodies out of his establishment and staying with his brave staff to wash blood trails off the floors and deal with the police.

Farhang Jehani

At one point he told me he wants to show me something so I followed him to another section of the restaurant. He started shifting furniture around and exposed a part of the black granite floor that had a large crater in it. “This is where the hand grenade fell”, he said. I took a picture, trying to comprehend what the hole in the floor really meant. I recently read about grenades. The United States Army Field manual says, “the effective kill zone has a five meter radius, while the casualty-inducing radius is approximately fifteen meters.” I calculated that I was sitting less than 2 meters from the grenade spot and the streets outside was about 8 meters away.

Farhang had a lot to tell me but a whole lot more to show. He revealed bullet holes in brick walls, shattered glass windows, punctured wooden walls and a hole which looked like it was straight out of the movie ‘Terminator.’ Visuals of the bad cop getting large bullet holes in his body and the molten metal flowing and filling it up filled my mind. The thick metal door that was the way up to the second floor had a two inch scar that had not healed that fast.

As I received the guided tour of the battlefield, I realized that Farhang was showing me these scars like a proud disabled army general shows his medals of bravery. He proudly told me he was not going to fix the walls and floor. Leopold had endured a lot. Leopold had seen much horrors and he was not going to let the World forget but memorialize his beloved family heirloom and stand tall in defiance.

I know many people who have raised their glasses to celebrate many moments in Leopold. Please go ahead and share some of those moments right here. Because in my mind, just as we raise a toast to loved ones, Leopold and it’s scars will always be a memorial and celebration for those who lived life to the fullest.

I’m back in Bombay. The last time I was here was 2 months back researching for ‘The Taxi Takes on Terror’. I prefer Bombay to Mumbai, just like I think I might even prefer Mumbai to Delhi now. Many factors and feelings go into that comment, especially since I’m back in my country after a year and a half of being away. So I’m spending a lot of time socializing with taxi drivers. I recently hung out with Mohammad Sameen. Last time I was here he had dropped me home from Colaba and on the way recounted his experience of being at VT terminal when the terrorists opened fire. He unknowingly drove from one venue of attack to the next and could have encountered bullets at any point. This time when we met, he insisted on buying me a ‘cold drink’, synonymous with a fizzy soda drink in India. We drove around the Nariman point area and he stopped to show me sights as if I was his niece visiting. He pointed out the room at the Oberoi which had seen some serious hostage action. The room was like a big open wound amongst the other curtained windows. I could see workmen working inside under bright lights with cables dangling out the window. I took some shaky footage with my handycam. Zooming into a far away window without a tripod has to be shaky. That same evening I waited patiently while sipping a Café Mocha at a Barista near Regal cinema, looking out expectantly as if for a date. At one point a taxi driver standing next to his shiny black and yellow cab looked straight at me and I thought, this must be Sahdev Singh. I met Sahdev’s brother, Ram Singh on my previous visit and some of his prejudiced comments about Islamic terrorism intrigued me to take his number, which in fact turned out to be his brother Sahdev’s number. On calling I found out that Ram was visiting his village, but that Sahdev was also a taxi driver. So I decided to interview him, which explains why I nodded back at the man next to the taxi, picked up my coffee and walked out. I sat in the front seat with him and we drove around Colaba and The Taj. I told him about my project and asked for his help. But like many other drivers he seemed more concerned about making a living for his family than solving the matter of terrorism. He also was not too kicked about being filmed, a response that you rarely get in India’s Bollywood capital. I might be mistaken, but all the drivers I talk to, the majority of the Hindu drivers, seem complacent while the Muslim taxi drivers want to try to do their bit to remove misconceptions about terrorism and identity. One driver, Haridwar Gupta, even asked if I was Muslim. I had asked him if he thought it was right for the police to arrest 50 muslims only after a blast took place. When I told him I was bought up a Hindu he wanted to know what caste I belonged to. When I tried to explain how I think caste only tends to divide humans, he proudly told me he was a Brahman and that his son had refused to eat even an egg one time when the doctor recommended it for his ill health. So I continue to have conversations in cabs in search of the ideal taxi driver for my project. Someone who has experienced some form of terrorism, is chatty, likes to be filmed and wants to be part of The Taxi Takes. Tomorrow I hope to meet Sushma, a female cabbie who drives the Priyadarshini taxis in Mumbai. The second time we spoke she said she was working and I naturally assumed driving. But it turns out that this smart lady works as a graphic designer too. Maybe she might have some inputs to give for the title stickers I plan to get made for the back window of a Mumbai taxi. My inspiration is the incredible taxis you see on the street strutting around like adorned and embellished elephants at a colorful Indian wedding. The Creative Review team had a similar idea for their April issue cover. On my first trip I met a charismatic and intelligent young taxi driver, Jamid Ali. He had already been on Meter Down and it was thanks to Kabi that I met him. It was on our first meeting itself that I decided to take out my camera and test the concept and my equipment for this project. Here I’ve edited a short clip from the footage I shot with him and his passengers. The second clip I am working on also features Jamid Ali and the focus of the conversations is ‘Jihad.’ Jamid Ali pretty much came up with the questions on his own after I told him what my project was about. He asked his passengers what according to them is the meaning of ‘Jihad’ and if there is a link between terrorism and religion.