(?????)
Temple bell drone. Hasanabad domes.
Sloe undertone of alone. Unknown Number on phone.
Imbrue of the brew that you do till you’re blau (der blaue angel bedeviled and reveling now …)
Slippery chroma of home.
Off Off Carter Road. A fingerspun globe.
Double bathrobe. Blue Frog’s boogied strobe.
Encroaching cement: Steel keels hellbent.
(Yet something still bends, something still mends.)
Street sign to Chuim. Chim(er)arooned.
Tint of a turban. Wave-glint off urban. Blueprint of your skin …
Cradle or tomb? (Yet something still blooms.)
Blue jeans beshed. Horizonless bed.
The blue moon we voodoo’d. From ash: Phoenix we grew.
(Some’d say: Screw loose. Well, shooby doo doo!)
A circle-back Jeep. Avast! We’re in deep.
Days without sleep (no count muttonous sheep).
Laundry rock-strewn; io’s boon-croon; we three steeped in monsoon …
Bye-bye balloon. Half-remembered tune:
… bhoolegi woh barsaat ki raat …
Poker chip stash. Confetti trash.
Astrologer aftercast. Tummy on fast.
Amor fati: Love your fate start to last.
Dhobi-pressed kameez. Gwyn’s port-passing ease.
CBGB’s sweet sleaze. (Oh my frocking…. GEEZ!) Freeze:
Held breath; little death. Bleu celeste; amethyst.
Untelled, us-spelled, endless kiss …
Hi hi, ho ho — he. Blues in my cuntry.
Breaking (heart) news! The US blues interlude of a resident refugee:
Beached bottle missive. Sketched twinvitation.
Gerberas effloresce in glad chlorination.
Red white blue Va(hana)s; the flag of that nation.
Athens paper cup. Golf’s New York–Jersey cruise.
Coffee-on-denim drops. Tompkins Square busker blues.
Bharat Natyam duds: blue-trunk-unbuckled muse.
The shade of all maps. Of leaving your lap.
(Spin of a halo: a glim of wingflap …)
Blue polish cracks: Create and then scrap.
Ain’t Nothing But The; Lady Sings The; Tangled Up In; You Look Good In; Linger On Your; Celebrated Walkin’ …
Fibble-Ow!!!!!
Splee spill-y-a dop-um boop-um-koo
A seep-um, beep-um, ool-ya keep-um sop-um-hoo
A sock-a meena, bop-a-spleen-a spoolia-dop-um-kop-a-queen-a
Sploop-um, doop-um, ill-y-a kloop-um hue-a-blu … hue-a-blu!
You lose you bruise. Joni: Songs are like tattoos.
Bungalow low: chiaroscuro.
Woe-be-gone high: where the truth lies.
Viridian earring; souvenir-steering; unreveniring (no same river twice).
Trois Couleurs: Bleu. Clues not to you.
Blue roan; blue ruin. Begin with an undoing:
Befriending an ending’s akin to beginning.
Blueshift; a contraction — but birthing may follow.
Universe in your mouth (but be sure not to swallow).
Unending manhole: l’heure bleu; the blue hour.
Ether-breath of the soul. Cure-all Curaçao.
(The where-are-you-now-er?)
Thread yester- and to- with arras of tomorrows.
Basilica view: Lady of the Mount woo.
Blue-hulled pantheon. Value of slowfrom.
A porthole to nowhere to everywhere hearkens —
A swimming MerMary; a portal that sparkens —
A swish and a swash of a buoy and a boat.
Chapel’s acrylic slick stain; grids of Clairefontaine.
Love Lane’s swell conch shell strain …
Neelkanth: a blue throat. Intone yourself afloat.
Mazagaon house palings. A plunger’s tale derailing.
Meditating brain. The one that got awaying.
A bucket of paint blending sinner and saint:
Landmarks gone seadarks: Distill tincture from taint.
Royal; navy; coast guard. Boy Blue reclaimed.
Comicomplexion; Banganga reflection. Genuflect of all questions.
(Home is a direction …)
Backseat blossoms aflame: a driver with a name.
Sea Link iridescence. Cama Peak’s magnifishence.
Fifth room of the heart: the quintessential part.
The palate of together even when we’re apart.
Iris of Shy. Bowie’s blue eye.
Glow of hello; dye of goodbye.
Supine door. Marble floor. Sam Adams spills to distant shore …
Where happy little chaklees fly.
A city of belle eau bellowed by land.
Unbury that treasure: Unclasp your hands.
Dupatta unfurls: (un)veiled birth: Blue Girl!
Liberty’s verdigris when she’s green-lit to breathe.
Untie the knots: all winged things released.
The canvas of free. The easel of ease.
A stairway to impossibly possible seas …
Observe: in the blue hour, a hyacinth cast.
Remember this first: that nothing can last.
Airport avast: Yet nothing is last!
Airport ahoy! My own bridle hue:
All things grow old … yet all things renew.
All things borrowed — like you. All treasured: (True) Blue.
Angel-finned-winged; ghostwritten: Rani. We do….
And this saturation, with melancholic fascination …
Borders are blurring (it’s akin to elation!).
For as we submerge in this city, streets aquamarine,
Le Spleen wines, dines, and weans: seen and unseen seams:
What we have and have been. What we’ll reverie into being.
Where we are, where we’ll be — but carry-on where we’ve been:
(Somehow you always still know what I mean….)
Indefinite Stay: Saudade’s bright flame.
Leave to Remain: the love that refrains.
For the ones we have christened, and for those still unnamed.
(Haven of Peace: Half-bridge always complete.)
Yes, yes! Encore again!
We will meet, we’ll crosstreet! Unabashed! Unashamed!
Nil-neel: ethereal. An eternal bluescreen …
Nineteen days in Bombay. A cerulean dream.
Over the course of February 2011 to March 2012 I spent time in Bombay for this project. Though not specified as such, much of the temporal setting of the novel as a result refers to this period, up through the end of 2012, when I was in the heart of the writing process. One notable exception is the inclusion of the discussion of Section 377 in the book. Though this recriminalization of homosexuality occurred later, it felt like too critical a topic to omit completely from a story that for me was and is an opportunity to explore the import and necessity of freedom of expression as well as the many wondrous and wonderful and bigger-than-boxable-or-beatable forms love takes.
It, and we, cannot be contained.
Thank you, Bernard, my lighthouse, my closest friend. For putting Writer on my landing card all those years ago (and always landing with me). And many mercis, my most treasured mergirls, Leela Marie and Zoé Rani, for much-appreciated perspective. Home is where you are.
My beloved brother, Rajiv. For the reservoir.
David Levithan, how wonderful to be reunited. Thank you for the big heart, and the love you’ve always shown these characters, from when they were just a twinkle in my eyes.
Christy Fletcher, for your care, forthrightness, and insight on this project. And Sylvie Greenberg, for your fresh, attentive (and very speedy!) eyes.
Thank you to my dear family in Pune and Andheri, especially my sis, Trupti (Teeny) Patel.
Extra-sparkly bleeps to Kenneth Lobo, my on-the-ground and in-the-heart coconspirator. Here’s to the Star Chamber!
Special thanks to Ali Sachedina, for throwing out
an arm. For the neon, and the new town. We completely lived.
Thank you, dear Jon Faddis, for writing the original scat section (page 547, in itals) for the “Bombay Blues” coda (splee!).
Also, much appreciation to: Naresh Fernandes, for the unremitting spark of your company and your inimitable point of view. Kainaz Amaria, Sarita Khurana, Smriti Mundhra, Nisha Sondhe (for visual fodder, you gifted photographers/filmmakers, all). Atul Ohri, Uri Solanki (for sonic information and inspiration). Jas Charanjiva (last-minute muse who shifted the course of a character’s life). Dave Sharma (tablatastic consultant). And for their great hospitality, thank you, Sameer and Shona Bulchandani, and Bindiya Chawla. Also thanks to: Emmanuelle de Decker, Rahul Guha, Minal Hajratwala, Hanna Ingber, Amit Keswani, Vanisha Kumar, Dan Reed, Sree Sreenivasan, as well as Sout Dandy Squad, for that private midnight gig in Dharavi.
Blue Marie mercis to Karen Essex, cerulean sister. Tchin-tchin to that endless candle.
Big love to Adam Patro/Atom Fellows and Marie Tueje, my musical (and more) brother and sister, for musical (and more) sustenance during this project (and more).
Double-hearts to Arvind Devalia for his alwaysness.
A resounding Room 212 shout-out to Rekha Malhotra for the party that started it all.
Within the text, the characters make reference to a number of the songs and artists that inspired me while writing the book. Thank you to Patti Smith, Malkit Singh, Taj Mahal, Boney M., Iggy Pop (and the Stooges), the B-52s, Patty Smyth, Serge Gainsbourg, Arcade Fire, Bob Dylan, Bon Jovi, The Knock-Knocks, The Beatles, Kris Kristofferson (and Janis Joplin), Joni Mitchell, David Bowie, and PJ Harvey (as well as to “Mammas Don’t Let Your Babies Grow Up to be Cowboys,” “Over the Rainbow,” and two of my parents’ favorite classics, “Roop Tera Mastana” and “Zindagi Bhar Nahin Bhoolegi Woh Barsaat Ki Raat”) for sharing their musical spark with both me and my characters. The original scat section (page 547, in itals) for the “Bombay Blues” coda was written by my friend Jon Faddis (also the composer of “The Fibble-Ow Blues” referred to in that same section). All other lyrics are my own, composed for the album of original songs based on this novel, which can be found at www.ThisIsTanuja.com.
And for providing the key notes to musing my blues, thank you, seven once-islands, for your knowns and unknowns, the friends who grew wonderfully strange and the strangers who turned suddenly friends during this immense, intense adventure of my 38 days in Bombay: so very glad to have shared a moment or forever of the path with you.
And last, but also a first: Thank you to my enormously appreciated Born Confused readers for all the Dimple love, and for continuing to ask me what happened next. I think I know now.
In loving memory of:
Odette-ji Hidier
Joyce K. Muldrew
and Papy Jean-Jean-ji Hidier.
I know you’re in the fifth room.
Tanuja Desai Hidier’s groundbreaking previous novel, Born Confused, was named an ALA Best Book for Young Adults and became a landmark work, recently hailed by Entertainment Weekly as a contender for one of the best YA novels of all time.
Born and raised in the USA, Tanuja is a writer/singer-songwriter now based in London. For more about Born Confused and Bombay Blues, as well as her “booktrack” albums of original songs to accompany them, please visit www.ThisIsTanuja.com.
For more information on the author, please visit
www.ThisIsTanuja.com
Copyright © 2014 by Tanuja Desai Hidier
All rights reserved. Published by Scholastic Press, an imprint of Scholastic Inc., Publishers since 1920. SCHOLASTIC, SCHOLASTIC PRESS, and associated logos are trademarks and/or registered trademarks of Scholastic Inc.
Library of Congress Control Number: 2014906335
First edition, September 2014
Author photo by Jon Sadleir
Cover photo by Asia Images Group/Getty Images
Cover design by Whitney Lyle and Ellen Duda
e-ISBN 978-0-545-63387-1
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher. For information regarding permission, write to Scholastic Inc., Attention: Permissions Department, 557 Broadway, New York, NY 10012.
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