Amitav Ghosh told us that he had three working desks (New York, Goa and Kolkata) from where he created his magic. When we prodded about the key to writing, he simply said, “Writing books is an extended act of concentration.” And this, we believe will bring a smile to all his fans in Goa—“Having Goa in my life has been a gift,” he admitted.

With others like Dan Brown who wraps up fast-paced thrillers like how reporters tackle daily deadlines, spaces don’t really matter. “I found a dedicated space and made it my own. I follow a set routine for that period of writing the book,” he shared. For someone who pens inexplicably complicated plots, it wasn’t the sort of reply we were expecting.

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But back in Bombay, in our urban milieus, often, it is the opposite of serenity and isolation that inspires. Look at the works of notable city writers like Shanta Gokhale, PuLa Deshpande or Jerry Pinto. They have evocatively captured the frenetic pace, the smells, and the mayhem of the city. And we’d hazard a guess that they did some, if not most of their writing, from their homes in the city. Far from the calm of the hills or the solitude of a sea-facing bungalow, this chaotic chemistry has a hypnotic effect. Some might agree. Others will shriek at the thought.  

Memories of Cafe Samovar

For me, the one time that was truly special was nearly 15 monsoons ago. We were able to nab a table at Cafe Samovar on a day when the heavens opened in SoBo. We were caught unawares as we stepped out for a recce of one of the walks charted for our book, Ten Heritage Walks of Mumbai. Thrilled at having bagged a space at this old, favoured adda, we wiped the glass table top dry with tissue paper, and quickly began jotting down all our observations from our wanderings in record speed, lest we forget any detail. No mobile phone with camera. No laptop. No tablet. Just our pen and trusted notebook, and we were off. The pitter-patter was our constant companion. The smell of the wet earth from the wooded environs of the museum nearby made the setting even more special. With endless cups of pudina chai and kheema pav for company on that late, very wet afternoon in July, we survived and thrived. For those two hours, we were oblivious to the damp cane patio furniture; the chatter and rush of the kitchen staff and the non-stop buzz that emanated from other tables did not bother us at all. We were in our zone.

Another occasion when the city surprised and inspired in equal measure was on a bus ride. We had just boarded an AC bus from Churchgate after meeting our publisher for a quiz book on Bombay. He was happy with the idea, and wanted me to draft a rough plan with section names for every type of quiz in the book. All I needed was to stare outside the window for the words to flow. By the end of that bus ride, when we reached our destination, we had our list of ten names for the ten quizzes.

That’s the wonderful thing about this city—it helps you find your space and your mojo despite the chaos. We simply have to ‘thoda adjust’, as our train-commuting companions will say.

mid-day’s Features Editor Fiona Fernandez relishes the city’s sights, sounds, smells and stones...wherever the ink and the inclination takes her. She tweets @bombayana

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