From the restaurant seats
"I once asked my old accountant how he met his wife. He told me that when he was 17, his uncle came over with a proposal. Hesitant, he asked his uncle if she was the right person. The uncle then gave him two light slaps and said, 'She has two hands, two feet, and two eyes. Would I not choose the right person?' They went on to be married for around sixty years. Isn't that romantic?" For Jamal Mecklai, 68, everyone in the city is chasing romance.

The story of Mecklai, who heads a risk management consultancy and his wife, Pravina, a gallerist has revolved around the many shuttered restuarants in the city. From the Taj Mahal Palace's Sea Lounge to Café Naaz at Malabar Hill. The three-storeyed Naaz was a place where the rich and the poor were welcome. "There were delicious mutton samosas, orange lollies, and a splendid view of Marine Drive," Pravina reminisces. She would often head out to a disco during her college days. Slip Disc at Colaba, where Led Zeppelin gave an impromptu performance, and Taj's Blow Up were favourites.