Press Club Mohammed

On Thursday, got out on the right side of the bed, down. For relief, started somewhere in BUSYBEE, BEST of 1994-95. Floated to a piece: Getting a liquor permit: I have just recieved my renewed liquor permit. My friend, Mehmood, who is the major-domo of the Bombay Press Club brought it to me yesterday. Shut the book and snoozed on Mehmood, whom me called Mohammedee, being a Malayali. 'Entha saare,' he would reply dressed in a neat smile. When me was joint secretary, Bombay Press Club, he joined the Club in a shack, from Press Trust of India, where he ran a canteen. He did everything at the Club which opened to Azad Maidan and white cricket. For a year me did nothing but be at the Press Club with Mohammed, who lived in Sion Circle. He got married, set up a family, and yet run the Club late into the night. He had his team, a friendly team; they remain so and run the Club which is mostly taking orders for liquor. Those days when me stepped into the Club as a minor boss, Mohammed would tell his team: Saab ke liye ek rum aur coke; as years went past, me never placed orders as the team knew my liquid needs. Never did me own a liquor permit, Mohammed saw to that. 'Saarinu permit venda (Saar does not need a permit)', he said and shut the quest for a permit. The Club ran losses as revenue fell short of costs, me first glimpse of a fiscal deficit much written about by many economists. When Olga Tellis was the first secretary of the Club (hope me am not wrong), there were no losses, no revenues, as there was no liquor and Club was always empty. And then came the journalists and today it is complete with public relations officers. Since Olga Tellis, no woman has held a top job in Press Club and that's a trifle sad. With liquor came, cards table run by Joshi of the Financial Express; when Murali Kumar of Financial Express wrote a critical piece on Press Club, Joshi hollered and again if me am not wrong, Murali Kumar was not allowed entry. That was unfair to Kumar. Mohammed knew all and all knew him. Me was never a member of a second club as me did not have cash and prestige. When me quit The Financial Express, the general manager, took me out to Bombay Gymkhana, for drinks and lunch. We stepped in sobre, stepped out tipsy. Have not gone a second time. Maybe, my Malabar Hill cousin, Shyamala, will take me out to the Gym. Then me retired to Borivili, Mohammed retired to Navi Mumbai. We also retired from Press Club.