35053668-Empire-of-the-Soul-Paul-William-Roberts

310
EMPIRE OF THE SOUL
by the roadside. And later DREAMS WILL DROWN WHEN
SUGAR IS BROWN. The same poetry kept appearing. Was sugar
being adulterated again? The city seemed to be overreacting if this
was what the signs concerned. ‘Brown sugar’ referred, as I should
have guessed, to heroin. Such is ‘progress.’
The Taj Mahal Hotel hadn’t changed, fortunately; and the labour
dock area, the Apollo Bunder, seemed rejuvenated. India’s Gateway
was no longer a shelter for the homeless. In fact, it served no function
at all now.
Young girls and boys staffed the hotel, each wearing a flash reading
Trainee. They acted with androidlike efficiency, which is not
particularly efficient. Alas, the rooms in the old Taj had been
renovated: they were larger and more Westernised in conveniences,
but they weren’t the old Taj rooms. An age had truly gone.
I phoned a friend. By some blunder of the phone company, her
line had been connected to someone else’s in the same building, so
she had to run up four flights of stairs every time there was a call. It
would probably take a year or so for this error to be corrected, but
the neighbour – just as inconvenienced – seemed not to mind
running down four flights every time my friend had a call.
I could hear a listlessness and a disinterest in any form of activity
in the voices of everyone I phoned. The heat, the strikes, the failed
monsoon . . . No one wanted to visit art galleries; no one wanted to
visit. Only Rahul Singh was his usual ebullient self. Son of
Khushwant, he’s one of the most prominent and respected
columnists in India, syndicated relentlessly. And he’s a gracious and
generous host, with time for everyone. He seems to know personally
and intimately anyone you wish to meet in Bombay. Before long he
was arranging parties, meetings, trips . . .
A glance through the Taj bookshop alone indicated changing
standards. Any change in India occurs in Bombay first. The stars in
the film fanzines seemed far more Westernised in appearance, for a
start, although the text surrounding them was still curried Hedda
Hopper. Many new magazines catered to a less specific audience.
One of these, Gladrags, exhibited a stunning Indian beauty. The banner
on the cover, Voyeuristic Glimpses of the Sexiest Women Around,
promised more of her inside. Yet Gladrags seemed in reality more a