Sunday, September 15, 2013

Best of British Shopping...

London Underground Print ad:Best of British shopping....

Wednesday, July 24, 2013


The ever gorgeous (and restored) Routemaster. These buses ply on some old routes in Londonium as a tourist attraction. Charming detail such as a dustbin for used tickets as you alight.

poster in a pub in hackney

Monday, April 15, 2013

dress code for best buses

the ladies seat reservations always assures you of a seat at least for some time if you're a girl. but becomes a zone of temptation for all the starved repressed sex addicts of the city. yes my knees were showing in my  skirt, maybe the dark mysterious gaps in clothing were a little too much for public transport. the proportions of seated girl to the average standing height of a bus travelling man ensures that you can rub crotch to bare shoulder. the front of the bus also allows for quick escape in case she protests.
striped pants unzipped- at eye level- thin weak man. the second in a starched white shirt , marathi middle aged man- stocky- lord of his house but probably frustrated at the sight of these shameless shameless girls travelling around and so superior. two on one journey- too many last evening. was scarily like my delhi bus journeys which used to be a free for all groping party. 

Sunday, March 03, 2013

routes-lic to juhu

i have avoided learning and memorising the time of arrival of the 229, 203, 210 or 224 at the bus stop at the station for the pleasures of serendipitous everyday travel- sometimes through sv road, sometimes charkop's residential areas- the old charkop road sometimes combinations of the three.

The newer buses run on the new roads cut through old familiar neighbourhoods, laying their hidden secrets bare, in the white and empty morning light- too early for the rush and clog of the traffic. 

And the height of the bus window in a single decker is just perfect, bringing you in the perfect vantage of voyeur,( especially on s.v. road) sometimes a glance looks straight back at you, but mostly it is a pleasurable condescending stare of a city letch-  looking down the cleavage of the old city road, its pretty bungalows, its messy markets from a lofty place behind benign red metal walls, the windows down to keep out the morning chill.

sections  cut through the city every morning- pushing through- the wood market at jogeshwari and tempting open to eye restaurant insides, past Malcolm baugs old world mysteries, new monster towers, etc etc etc