At that time, India was not spoken about in the western media at all, apart from when the odd calamity such as an earthquake occurred.

Little did anyone know that a couple of years later, the term ‘India Shining’ would be coined, and the whole world would start looking at India and China as the future global growth stories.

Since I arrived in 2007, Mumbai has ironically, been the place to be for any journalist worth his salt. I had no clue India would catapult into limelight. I just came because I liked Bollywood, Brick Lane, Bhangra, (and of course, Indian men), and sensed it would be an exciting place.

But my radical decision turned out to be spot on, not just for me personally, in that I got to do fascinating things like spend the day washing clothes with dhobiwallahs; wander around slums; and interview Katrina Kaif, Mark Tully and Danny Boyle (and, of course, date the odd real Indian man…)

But even career-wise, journalists in the UK that had never shown any interest in India, suddenly look at me with envy and my inbox now gets flooded with emails from them asking me how to get a job here. That is connected not just to the buzz in the western media about the Indian growth story, but also the Mumbai terror attacks and Slumdog Millionaire, both of which have atapulted India, and especially Mumbai, into the top news headlines.

But while some of these new firang arrived starry-eyed hoping to find magic and spirituality, others are unable to cope with life here.

What I have discovered is that India is a complex society. It takes a firang time to realise that things work here as perfectly as they do in the west. It’s just done differently. ‘We are like that only’ as Indians say.

I was packing up my flat last week, and called the recycling man round to collect the newspapers. He peered around my apartment and offered to also take my old clothes, shoes, saucepans, broken, cameras and TV, anything that I could not fit in my luggage to be precise, and even pay me. Wow! On the contrary, in the UK I would have had to pay several thousand rupees to the local government for the pleasure of driving them to a tip, or be fined for leaving out too much rubbish. I guess this is what is called jugaad.

My maid too took a lot of my items and it felt like such good karma to give them away to her. Why anyone would sell their items (apart from to a recycling man) beats me, when there are so many needy people here that would happily take them..

My maid was not just a worker, but my best friend, and she even accompanied me to the doctor when I was ill. Saying good-bye to her was especially upsetting.

These are just a few of hundreds of examples of how amazing India can be, if you let her.

But now, that I am returning to England, I’m having a deja-vu, as westerners and Indians alike are suddenly now telling me not to return, and this time to stay in India! They bang on about the booming economy and Western recession. But it feels like the right time to go for me in my life.

I have learnt that following my heart, rather than logic, is ironically the right way. Besides, when I moved here, everyone advised me against it, and look what happened. It was the best place to be for a journalist!

I’m sure I will be back before long as I anyway feel semi-Indian…. Apart from adopting two Indian cats, which are now already in the UK (they flew back unaccompanied last week), I also now speak Indian English (“I’m shifting back to the UK”; “Tell me” I now regularly say), I am an expert on dating Indian men, and even packing my flat up has been done Indian–style! Firangs often fret when they think Indians are not working on a task, an then are astonished to see it done to perfection at the 11th hour. The same way, the day before I had to move out of my flat, I could not see the floor for all the rubbish, and had to tell my landlord I was not ready and get an extension until 9am the next day. He was pretty relaxed about it – something that would never happen in England… I stayed up all night clearing it, and minutes before the landlord came to take the keys, it was clean and ready to hand back!

So, again now, true to style, I am going against the norm, not listening to what everyone tells me, and returning to live in England.

You see the lesson I have learnt is never follow the masses; do what your instinct, rather than what others tell you, as following your gut is often when man’s biggest achievements happen.

(You may continue following Naomi on her adventures, at her personal blog, at http://naomicanton.blogspot.com)

The current fiasco with the Commonwealth Games in Delhi brings this statement to mind. This is the chance for India to show off its prowess to the world and yet, it is ‘muddling it up’ on a grand scale.

Remember the opening of the Olympics in Beijing in 2008? It was nothing short of spectacular. The visual spectacle, imbibed with Chinese culture, which set the sky ablaze with music and dance, was spellbinding and the ceremony passed off with perfection. It was, in fact, the mother of all Olympics opening ceremonies. The newly built stadiums were impressive, and the event basically opened the eyes of the world to what China can and will achieve. More people watched the opening ceremony in China than that in Athens. It told the world that China, not America, stands at the centre of the universe.

The Commonwealth Games (CWG), which India is hosting for the first time, also have the potential to be a source of national pride, and to show the world what India is made of.

This is after all a country that invented the zero (read: Brahmagupta); built the Golden Temple in Amritsar and the Taj Mahal Palace in Agra; built various UNESCO World Heritage sites such as the Ajanta and Ellora caves; rather usefully invented ‘good’ sex for goodness sake (read: Karma Sutra); taught the world how to live life (read: the Bhagavad Gita and the Vedas); invented yoga, now a practice revered throughout the western world; this a country, that, apart from founding Hindusim, even founded Buddhism, now revered throughout Asia and the western world. Here we have a country who’s amazingly complex but perfect tiffin and dhobi wallah systems never fail to amaze tourists, foreign filmmakers and journalists alike.

So, when David Cameron held a joint press conference with Manmohan Singh in Delhi and a rather cheeky Indian TV journalist posed the question to Manmohan Singh: “Are you aware of the corruption, incompetence and delays with the construction of the Commonwealth Games stadiums?” and he turned ashen-faced, and replied saying he had met the Cabinet secretary the day before and was satisfied the necessary preparations were in place, and everything would be ready on time, it was a far from convincing answer.

He should have said that he was aware of the fiasco, allegations of corruption and misuse of funds, and was launching an immediate investigation, and those found guilty, would be sacked. Indian TV channels are showing us cables hanging out all over the place outside the CWG stadiums, pits and pot holes on paths outside newly-built stadiums, monsoon leaks, debris piled up everywhere, tiles falling off the edge of swimming pools, waterlogging, seepage and even a roof collapsing. Parts of a shooting range at Gugaon were practially washed away after it rained and the roof of the table tennis hall collapsed days after it was pronounced ready. The fact the stadiums are being built by thin labourers without proper uniforms and hard hats, who are probably poorly paid, is one part of the problem. They probably hardly care if the stadium they build looks good or even stands up, given their working conditions. But the fact the project management has been so appalling is another thing.

Now we are being told that taxpayer’s money has been misused on equipment and items, and that the organising committee has been charged well over the odds for various items such as treadmills and umbrellas, money that could have been paid to the poor labourers building the venues for starters. The corruption watchdog, the Central Vigilance Commission, has pointed out poor quality of construction material and grant of work to ineligible agencies as well as other large-scale procedural violations, including corruption, in several projects. Is this a reflection of wider problems in the construction industry in India, generally? I think so. The entire industry needs to be overhauled and very tightly regulated, as it is not the first time the words ‘corruption’ and ‘construction’ have gone hand in hand.

But for now, with just two months to go, that is not the focus. The immediate focus should be on preventing the CWG in India itself from becoming the organisational disaster of the century, the mother of all CWG disasters, and instead becoming the world-class event, source of celebration and national pride, that it should be. The Indian Government, citizens, the media, and other Commonwealth countries, now need to apply pressure on those in charge of this event.

Good thing, probably, as neither of us wasted the other’s time. It ended over text message, as so many relationships (and divorces) do. (At least it wasn’t over a change in someone’s Facebook status!). I was left completely unscathed actually as three weeks is not enough time to develop any serious feelings for someone anyway (unlike one year…)
In fact, my feelings for him were zero. I had clearly been in love with ‘romance’ rather than with him, it turned out.

But realising I was quite up for some excitement in my personal life, I decided to give Internet dating a go. And so I registered on a site, and paid for one of those three month subscriptions. I have only ever been on such sites once before. On that occasion, I didn’t pay – instead I went on for free and just got spammed with emails from unsuitable matches in places like Afghanistan on a daily basis, and couldn’t actually contact anyone myself. On that occasion the guy had phoned me.

So, this time I decided to pay and do it properly.

And, what I have discovered is, and didn’t know, is that online dating has as many rules as physical dating, it’s just they are different.

I hit my first stumbling block when I had to fill in a massive section on my hobbies. This included questions as to whether I enjoyed snowboarding, hiking, waterski-ing, bridge, poker, the list went on. At that point I suddenly froze, as I realised that much as I consider myself to be interesting, I actually don’t have any hobbies at all! My only hobby is reading newspapers and writing, but if the truth be told that is my job! When I was younger I had, of course, all kinds of hobbies. As a child, indeed, I had weekly ballet, piano and tennis lessons. At university I ran the Japanese society, the shiatsu society, directed and acted in plays and wrote for the student newspapers. That was all apart from studying Japanese for my degree. But since becoming a journalist, I have not managed to keep up a single hobby. In my spare time, what do I do? I meet friends in cafes or bars. Or go to the gym, sleep, skype people in England, or buy cat food in the pet shop. I do not actively go hiking or act in plays, as I think I do, or would like to think I do. Sure, I go and see plays at the Prithvi Theatre sometimes, I even went to see a pianist perform at the NCPA last Friday, so there is an element of culture in my life, but otherwise my lack of hobbies is disappointing. (Do most people maintain a string of hobbies once they are grown up???)

So, what I did in this section was tick things I had maybe done once. Waterskiing? Sure, aged 15 on a Mark Warner holiday, I even ‘drop skiiied.’ Tick. Painting? Sure, at school I did Art A level, and got an A grade. Tick. Yoga? Sure, aged 23 I had done yoga. Tick. Hiking? Sure, I hiked once in the Himalayas and hung in Manali, aged 19. Tick. So, the final picture of me was of someone fairly interesting.

I checked out all the men’s profiles and despite looking fairly unfit and average, they all claimed to be playing badminton, cricket, mountain hiking, running, playing rugby, skiing, snorkelling, fishing and playing tennis on a regular basis.

They also incidentally described themselves as ‘above average’ and ‘attractive’ in the looks department.

I was thinking, if these guys are so good-looking and maintain such amazing jobs,(they are seemed to be designers, or in executive management) and so interesting as they all participated in 100 hobbies, – why aren’t they all taken?

Now some of the profiles looked like they had been professionally written (I have heard you can pay for ghost writers to do this)…they were not real – and read like a self help book on relationships.

For example, one man wrote: “I have a need to laugh regularly and don’t take life or myself too seriously unless required. I am as comfortable on a muddy country walk as I am in a stylish boutique hotel. I enjoy evenings in with good wine and company, as much as I do going out. I am equally happy gardening and cooking as partying with friends. I enjoy being in a favourite city, but also love the countryside, mountains, sea etc.”

I just honestly don’t believe a normal guy would write like this.

One positive was most of the British men on the site seemed to like cats, unlike their Indian counterparts. There weren’t just British men there, of course. There was one guy in Palestine, who wrote, “It may be a strange place to be, constantly getting fired by bullets, but I am looking for a woman who…” I was like ‘Whoah…” An Indian guy had written: “I am not looking for a party type, but a stay-at-home homely girl.”

Anyway, the worst part about it was, that like real dating, if you don’t play the game, you are shafted. I had thought online dating would be different, an easy way out, the way to get 100 men messaging you in one go. I was wrong.

In my case, straight away I marked 30 men as my ‘favourites’, switched the computer off and went on the next day.

You see now that I was paying, I kind of expected results. I mean I was expecting that after my grand presence on the site for 24 hours, I would find that I had 30 people who had marked me as their favourites too.

But in reality the only ‘news update for me’ when I switched on a day later was that not a single person had marked me down as a favourite. A couple of 50-year-olds had viewed my profile and that was it.

So, I went and checked the profile that I had posted about myself and what I said I was looking for and wondered if it needed toning down a bit. In the ‘what I was looking for’ part I saw had gone on at great length about how I wanted a guy from Oxbridge, privately educated, with good table manners, who owned a property, was solvent and preferably ‘comfortable’ on the wealth front, who liked cats, and could cook, and was living in the UK. I wrote that we could have a relationship over Skype and email, and then fly to meet each other, if things seemed to work out. Upon rereading it, I thought I came across as rather fussy and demanding and some men might get put off by the list of requirements. (The fact that not one of my ex boyfriends matches these critieria was neither here nor there when I originally wrote it.)

Being a woman, and wondering what else I was doing wrong, I decided I better check out the competition. So, I searched for a woman of my age to see what was out there. Some women had pictures posted of themselves I would never dream of putting up. One woman was a blond bombshell (with peroxided hair, please note – unlike mine) in a silk mini dress by a pool. She was the most popular woman on the site, the site claimed. Do men really go for such women?????? Another girl had a really edgy message – all about “I’m sure you are someone who would never wear hair gel.”

Another said: “At home with the visual arts; painting, sculpture and architecture. Adores music from Bowie to Rachmaninoff.” Who?

Another had one of those professional-looking ghost-written profiles, that said: “Busy professional attractive female with a warm and caring personality looking forward to meeting new people and making new friends. I can offer a tolerant and philosophical approach to life and…” Who writes like that? Honestly?

So, after a few days, I figured that men are ‘hunters’ and we women are meant to be ‘hunted’ and by marking the men as my favourites, I had taken away the challenge of being ‘hunted’ (similar to women that sleep with men on the first date.) So, that was my mistake number one. It kind of got worse as after seven days, I had received just one message. It was (I am not joking) 5,000 words long and a description of this male individual, with no questions directed at me. It looked like he copied and pasted it to everyone. Unable to restrain myself (I was paying after all), I wrote eight messages (short) to eight men in my favourites section. A week later seven had not even read them, let alone replied. I am now convinced they are fake profiles put up by the website itself to make it look like it has more members. The one reply I did get was from some man who said he would not correspond with me unless I revealed my picture to him. It’s going to be a long haul, I can see. I have entered a new arena of dating completely! Have any of you tried online dating and found it to work? Would love to know. Also, if anyone knows the rules of the online dating game, please do share them….I guess one thing is for certain, it looks like I’m gonna have to get my hair peroxided and get myself photographed in a silk dress by the pool asap.

I almost felt like I was in England. It is funny how a sport like football can unite people across the world. You never would have thought that in a cricket-crazy nation like India, football would have such a following. People were as enthused about the beautiful game as the Brits, Spanish and Dutch were, yet an Indian team hadn’t even entered the World Cup. (Obviously India didn’t qualify, but why didn’t it…? I see young men practising football on every street corner in Mumbai.In a country this size, with a passion for football, India should now be aiming to qualify, surely? Is there a lack of decent football pitches? A lack of serious tournaments being held? A lack of coaches?…..)

Anyway, it felt great to be watching the World Cup in India, with as much passion around me, as there would have been back home. Such is globalisation, that India is, when it comes to watching footie, no different to the West. If there is any difference, it is that the Indian crowd was more sedate, watching it in a calm and fun manner. There was none of the aggression, fighting and rowdiness you might find at a High Street pub in England. In fact, you would never see the kind of football hooliganism in India, that is seen in the UK. Even when the power on the screen went just after Spain scored, people remained calm and a fight didn’t commence. The fact that binge drinking has not really taken off in India is I’m sure part of the reason. In the UK it is normal for people to go out “to get drunk.” And for that they down pints and pints of beers, then vomit, and collapse all over the place, or pick a fight and end up with glass in their face. You might witness bandhs, and weird demonstrations here, but you never see drunken aggression and hooliganism happening in India. I think it’s because less people drink here anyway (many instead take soft drinks), but even those that do drink alcohol, drink it differently. It is done socially, but not in excess. You don’t see people downing shot after shot of tequila, pint after pint of draught beer, or pouring glasses from jugs of potent Long Island Iced Tea, like you might see in the West, then ending up in Accident and Emergency. Somehow the drinking culture is different, and people don’t drink to excess in India. That is similar to places like Spain and Italy, I guess.

As I was sitting in Mocha, I realised Mocha is my favourite eating place in Mumbai. The prices are reasonable, the food delicious, it serves wine and beer, and single origin coffees, the ambience is casual but stylish, and I love the wide range of shakes (M&M, Kit Kat, Ferrero Rocher) and unusual food items, as well. I’m not really into dressing up and the page 3 scene, I have to admit. I reckon I wouldn’t mind it if I was an actor or model by profession, as then I wouldn’t have much to do during the day, and could spend all day getting ready. But being a journalist is quite tiring and the last thing I want to do when I get home is dress up. Being in a jeans and a T shirt at Mocha is my kind of thing. I don’t know where the ‘dressing up to go out’ culture in Mumbai hails from, but I suspect it is from the USA. Wherever it is from, it doesn’t quite suit me.

Initially when I first came to Mumbai, most bars were high-end….The kind of places you need to put on a dress and jewellry for (if a girl), and then pay high prices for drinks at. That was the only option if you wanted to go out…It was either that or cafes like Barista, where you just had coffee, alongside a few strugglers, or I guess for the daring, one could venture into quarter or janta bars…. There you could probably see ‘another India’ over a domestic whisky…I didn’t try this, but perhaps I should have….Back then there were times I didn’t go out just because I couldn’t face dressing up, even though I wanted to go out….

Now though, finally, a string of independent trendy cafes are opening up – that offer causal places you can go out in stylish environments…that are more than Barista and CCD. This is my cup of tea.

These include the new Pali Village Café in Bandra, that is like a Tuscany villa cum old rambling house, with pictures and postcards on the wall, that serves great coffee, and where you are likely to spot Saif Ali Khan. Sandwich and Co. in Bandra is another secret haunt for the posh Pali Hill brigade..it’s a tiny café, but has great cakes and every table outside has a laptop point, they also play cool party music you can listen to as you work….Indigo Deli is an institution loved by all in Mumbai – there you feel like you are in a New York deli, as you drink their single origin coffee and try their amazing desserts…But it does have competition with the BBC Café at the JW Marriott in Juhu, which is perfect for people seeking healthy, natural western-style salads and sandwiches (not drenched in mayonnaise or spicy sauces) – another great option is The Gourmet Store at the Grand Hyatt, which does the best lentil salad in town, and is also a cool hangout, as is the Bombay Express at the Renaissance Hotel, which serves amazing coffee as well. You don’t have to dress up for any of these places.

The good news too is that mid range bars (as opposed to high end) are also finally opening up in the city. So, no longer do you have to choose between shelling out Rs 2,000 on a cover charge in a five star, or Rs 700 for a glass of wine in a standalone,or sitting in the basic décor of a shady quarter bar…you can now head to a trendy stylish bar, where a glass of wine costs less than Rs 200! About time too…..Similar bars in the UK include the Wetherspoon chain of bars. Until now in Mumbai, there have been very few ‘bar bars’ – apart from some very expensive ones.

The first two of these new mid range bar chains are WTF! which has a branch in Khar and Quench which has opened in Bandra. Both intend to expand across India. Both are based on the concept of offering trendy venues, which you don’t have to dress up to go to, with drinks at moderate prices. The business model is based on attracting high volumes every night, not just at weekends.

As Vineet Shetty, a partner at Quench, says: “I don’t want to open a bar where I just see myself and a string of waiters and the place is empty. I want to run a bar that is packed every night.”

This, I say is the future, as it is where the mass consumer market lies. Even the expats I know have been complaining about the high prices of drinks in some Mumbai bars, which can exceed prices of bars in London and New York. Sure, some rich Indians can afford them, but not everyone can, more so now that more expats are on local salaries. There has to be a mid-range option for people. And finally it has arrived.

So, this blog was nearly going to be about either a) my cats and how they behave, how seem to possess some human characteristics or b) about food poisoning.

That was until Sunday 5 pm when a colleague from work rang me to see if I was returning the next day, and if so, did I require a car. HT does not normally provide me “with a car” and I usually get about in autos and black-and-yellow cabs, as you know, so I was a tad taken aback. I wondered if there was a strike, but figured that would be odd, since the cab drivers got the fare hike they wanted on a one-day strike a week or two ago (that nearly crippled the city). I then switched on the news to see that a bandh was planned, and there would be no transport on Monday, in fact the entire country was “shutting down.”

I found this very odd. Very strange.

In my sphere of knowledge, normally, if a worker is dissatisfied with something, his union may call a “strike”. This is when workers in one industry refuse to go to work, but those that want to work in that industry, can. Those in other industries carry on, as normal. (My mum always used to cross the picket lines and go to work during the teacher strikes in England in the 70s and 80s. No one threw stones at her. She was going against her colleagues, but it was allowed.) So, let’s say there has been a fuel hike rise, as apparently there has been in India, which triggered the bandh, then those directly affected by this, eg. lorry drivers, taxis and auto drivers, could legitimately announce a strike. (Fuel protests are not uncommon in the UK. Indeed once lorry drivers all blocked a series of motorways in protest. But it was only the lorry drivers protesting, and the entire country didn’t close down.)

In Mumbai, the city did close, as did much of the country. So, on Monday, every single person that I know who works in a private company was told not to turn up, as their office would be “closed”. Shops, schools, even roadside chai and paan wallahs closed for the day. The only ‘places’ open so-to-speak were the media, emergency services and government offices, from what I could see.

This was akin to a curfew being imposed. It was like a state of national emergency. No one went outside. Everything was closed for the day. Now this would be fine, if say, a swine flu epidemic had swept across India, or if, say, there was a civil war in progress. But to cause this entire shutdown of the country over a fuel price hike, appeared to me a) a tad extreme b) a tad undemocratic and c) against the law?

Fine, if the government had called it, for a valid reason, such as to curb civil war, as it is in power. But what right do opposition parties have to organise this? As for the taxi drivers I spoke to ( those ones who’s numbers I have), they did not work that day, not because they cared two hoots about the fuel price hike, but rather because of fear. Fear gripped the entire nation. No one, barring the police, the odd journalist, cameraman and doctor, stepped outside that day in Mumbai – a scene that was replicated across many parts of India. Very, very odd that anyone can control a nation of more than a billion people like that.

Anyway, I did go to work. Being off work sick is not much fun, and after it dawned on me that I was constantly googling the word ‘diarrhoea’ and reading up on all the dreadful illnesses I might have caught, I decided I would soon go mad, and it was time to return to normality. Besides, spending long periods with my cats, great though it is, one does miss human company. Moreoever, I didn’t want to miss out on any ‘action’. The vehicle arrived and off we went. And, I was amazed. Stunned. The roads were completely empty: no cars, taxis, autos, no beggars, no paan wallahs, no florists encroached on the pavement, there didn’t even seem to be any stray dogs. Maybe they knew?

Every shop and business was closed and there was no one in sight, apart from the odd cyclist and the odd smooth Hugh-Grant look-a-like in silver BMW smoking a cigarette as if-to-say, “I’m smart, I took my car out today.” Driving around Mumbai that day, it looked like a different city, like somewhere in the USA. You could see roads stretching ahead for miles, with no vehicles on them. There was a feeling of ’space’ – that feeling you have in America. It reminded me of that time in Arizona when I waited to cross the road at a zebra crossing, when there were no cars in sight, and yet everyone dutifully waited for the light to go green. In part it reminded me of Goa – there was that relaxed pace of life, that serenity. You could suddenly see and appreciate the greenery and trees on Mumbai’s roadsides…Life felt relaxed….Mumbai also suddenly resembled the chilled-out pace of Kerala. My shoulders relaxed, I felt relaxed. It was amazing. The buildings too, with their unique grand varied architectures, suddenly appeared beautiful…Their appearances became more visible as though no longer shrouded out of view by streams of people and hustle and bustle. Even the air seemed less polluted.

So, it got me thinking, what could be done to create more space in Mumbai?

I know that a Mumbai Metro is planned, which could help matters, whether it is overground or underground I am not sure. But there is no sign of it being ready anytime soon.

Then I remembered how on the day of the taxi and auto strike a week or so ago, there had been a similar sense of space and ease of getting around Mumbai (although not as impactful as on Monday, as private cars and motorbikes were out that time.)

But still, having no autos and black and yellow cabs did help ease traffic and create space. So I thought to myself, what if the black and yellow cabs (that anyway don’t have seatbelts or A/C) were all taken off the roads and replaced by nice A/C radio cabs? Normally these black and yellow cabs are everywhere cluttering up the roads, parked all the over the place, with the drivers inside asleep, refusing fares, or trying to rip you off. Have you ever considered how much space they take up? Half the time the ‘running ones’ are also empty. So, in this utopian Mumbai, you would ring up radio taxis instead, and they would send nice cars to pick you up and drop you off, and if they had no business/customer, they would return to wait in the large car park of the radio taxi company (which would be a bit like a bus station ) – and it would not be allowed for taxis to drive along without passengers, nor to park on the roadside. Imagine how much space this would free up? How much less stressful it would be as you would not even have to negotiate fares as the fares would be fixed at the time of the booking! Imagine how much faster traffic would move? Hopefully also the drivers’ licences would all be vetted, and there would be no chance of ending up with a driver that drove like a maniac.

Currently the only radio cab I am aware of in Mumbai is Meru Cabs. Yet there is a huge need for more as I can never get through to them, and on the two occasions I did (out of about 100), the first they refused the fare, the second, the driver did not show up.

You’ve heard of car-free days in places like Bogata and New York? Well, another option would be a “Car, Moped, Auto, Taxi and Motorcyle- free day” day once a week in Mumbai on a Sunday. Still we would have to put up with buses, but imagine how much walking we would all do and how pleasant it would be? Our lives would change overnight. Sunday would have a new meaning. Either that or, here’s a controversial suggestion: raise the fuel prices even more, so there is no incentive to have or use a vehicle. The fuel prices are now so high in the UK that many people can’t afford to have a car and so have to cycle or walk instead.

“Wow, you look stunning. You rarely get to see young people wearing saris in Mumbai,” I said, complimenting her.

You see, every young woman you see in Mumbai nowadays is dressed either in tight jeans and a strappy top, or in a western-style flowing dress. Shorts and skirts do not appear to be in fashion. Nor are saris or Punjabi suits. Yes, some people wear saris in the evening to five-star hotel functions, but you rarely see people dressed in them during the day, and they are never ever seen inside the city’s trendy bars and clubs. The young Mumbaikar’s penchant for jeans strikes me as odd, since Mumbai is baking hot all year round. The seasons drift from hot, to very hot, to painfully hot, to humid and wet hot, back to plain hot.

Saris and Salwar Kameez are ideally suited to such weather, are they not?

On the contrary, denim jeans make you sweat, and are better suited to cold climates. Moreover, they are also not at all feminine, unlike saris. Women, western or Indian, look a dozen times more attractive in a glittering sari, than in a masculine-looking pair of jeans and T shirt. In the hottest months of India (March to June); I avoid jeans, instead opting for linen or cotton trousers, yet most people around me, young Indian men and women, continue to go around in jeans. Weird.

Indian men, too, look strikingly dashing in Indian dress. They do not in flip flops, jeans and a shirt.

I adore the Kurta Pyjama look, as well as the Nehru shirt. When an Indian man wears them he comes across as intelligent, spiritual, Indian, interesting, all at once…I especially like the pointed Aladdin-style shoes that go with the former. I also don’t really like the ‘jeans, and V-next tight T shirt look’ that so many young Mumbai guys are into…It makes them look a tad gay.

I’m not sure that Indian clothes look good on a western man though. He tends to look more like a hippy trying to find himself.

“I always wear saris everyday, have done since I was at college. I’m only 25,” the PR woman told me. She then asked me if I wore saris. I said that I didn’t but would love her to teach me how to wear one.

She then said: “In a sari you expose your back and stomach, so you have to be thin. In a Punjabi suit, you can cover it all up.” Very true. Hence, I have two in my wardrobe, which comes in use when I am feeling fat.

I told her that though I had two Punjabi suits I really liked wearing, I wasn’t sure people liked them at the P3 parties and posh Breach Candy events in Mumbai, where, if at all, saris seemed to be preferred.

We then went on to discuss how weird it was that so few young men and women in Mumbai dressed in Indian dress. Weird because Indian dress is so much better suited to the climate here and also makes anyone look so much more attractive. One of my most vivid memories of coming to India aged 19 is of floating around Rajasthan and being bewitched by all the dazzling colours of the women in their various stunning saris…bright pink, red, green..I got some amazing photographs on my SLR camera, now in a photo album in Somerset.

Luckily western women can look as good as Indian women in Indian dress (unlike our male counterparts).

I have noticed that sometimes in my kurta fusion outfits (kurta above jeans), Indian men appear a tad confused, as though they ‘expect’ me to be in western dress, like the Indian women. But then when I wear a particular gold and bright green kurta of a Punjabi suit, it gets all the men looking at me…without fail…(a nice little weapon in my wardrobe, alongside my knee-length black leather boots.)

In an interview on YouTube recently, Akshay Kumar was asked what it was like playing a British Indian in his upcoming flick Patiala House, due for release after Diwali. The film is about a British Asian who wants to play cricket for England but his family are opposed to it.

(Incidentally 12 professional cricketers from across the world are appearing in cricket matches in the film. They include Kieron Pollard, Nasser Hussain, Herschelle Gibbs and Greame Hick. It sounds like the perfect masala – Bollywood and cricket – guaranteed box office returns, even if rubbish. I would invest in this film if I could)

Kumar says: “To play a British Indian I had to be more Indian than I actually am. In India we always try to copy the West, but what I have noticed since travelling to the UK and Canada, is that they tend to copy us.” So, maybe this explains the young Indian penchant for jeans.

It’s funny how clothes can turn on or off the opposite sex. I was reading about this on the web, where various people were saying their top turn-offs and turn-ons.

Turn-ons (in women) for men (according to these western web sites) were apparently short skirts (esp with high stockings), tights and stockings, long backless dresses, tight T shirts, heels, leather jeans, and petticoats.

Here’s my top turn offs and turn ons (in men):

In men I adore any kind of Indian dress (only if the guy is Indian; not if he is western); cords (especially beige); any soft material trousers, esp in pale colours; collared formal shirts (but never over jeans – jeans need to be with a T shirt or very casual shirt); a man looks sexiest in a smart causal look eg tiny polka dot black shirt over cords; I love pointed shoes, trainers, canvas shoes; jeans (not black) – need to be a cool brand though, and not too worn and old.

I detest shorts (I’m sorry but men’s hairy legs are not attractive), tight gay-looking T-shirts over jeans (most men in Lokhandwala sadly dress like this); backpacker dress (this is gross and the biggest turn off – for example a man wearing three quarter length cotton combat-style trousers and backpacker shoes makes me want to run a mile; as does a man in shorts and a tight T shirt); caps and hats (sorry they do nothing for me); braces (yuck); western formal suits (not sexy); black trousers with a white shirt (bad taste); black trousers with a black shirt (shows zero imagination and suggests the guy is fat); white socks (get black or navy, please!); overbranded designer T-shirts (makes you look sad and like a loser) backpacker sandals, open-toe sandals, flip flops and those weird coloured plastic sandals (just to emphasise a point – avoid the flip flops, blue jeans and formal shirt look – the classic Mumbaikar’s dress – A.V.O.I. D..Get a kurta pyjama on instead); tight cycling shorts. (Need I even comment.)

Phew, that’s my list. So, please let me know how you like to see a man or woman dressed. And do you prefer Indian or western clothes on them?