Dancing at the Taj

In these dark days, memories of better times at the Taj 70 years ago.

The Taj has issued a clarion call, “I will prevail”. From its many vicissitudes during the past century, like the phoenix, it has always resurrected itself in all its brilliance.

The Taj was an icon even in those days. Its frontage was so uniquely beautiful. Inside, it was sumptuous. Princesses had made it their second home. It was Bombay’s pride. If a guy took his girl there, he felt good about himself.

Brief acquaintance

My own acquaintance with the Taj was for a short period before my marriage at the end of 1938. After the engagement, I was allowed to date a man alone. But it was no carte blanche. There was a 10 p.m. deadline.

American films of those days were as lively with songs and dances as Bollywood’s are today. It was the era of musicals and hey day of the fox trot, waltz, tango and rumba. We knew all the songs and wanted to learn the dances. In the evenings we met at friends homes’ and danced to the gramophone. Girls usually outnumbered boys and though we corralled younger brothers and cousins, we still had to dance with each other. No matter. It was fun, and we did learn to dance.

Going to a Tea Dance at the Taj was a very different affair. Every Sunday evening I looked forward to an opulent world unknown to me. Wearing the lovely new saris gifted at the engagement was an added pleasure. In the Taj, the huge ball room used to be downstairs. Tall glass windows covered the whole length of one side. As they entered, the guests were enfolded in its magic ambience. The scent of massed flowers and rich pastry, gorgeous tapestry, the delicate clink of polished silver, soft music and the quiet murmur of elegant patrons chatting over damask tables. We ordered tea and waited for the dance music to begin. Dancing to a live band which enjoyed playing jazz as only Goans knew how to, was sheer joy. My partner was a good dancer. My repertoire was limited. Since the Taj ball room was not exactly a place to learn new steps, we stuck to the familiar.

Special memories

That time seems so long ago. These dark days, watching the Taj in flames on TV, countless families must be recalling their own happy memories of the hotel. How they used to save up for lunch or tea, be it for Navroze, Christmas or birthday. How great it was to feel rich and opulent even for one special day. Always at the Taj — acme of excellence. Let’s hope the band will soon play “happy days are here again”.

The writer (aged 91) is a freelance contributor. She can be contacted atsilloo.mehta@yahoo.co.in