So there i was, walking up the dingy stairs that had black stains on the walls and several cigarette buds on the floor. Had someone pissed on the walls or the floors, and add a few whores with slutty clothing, it would have been a perfect place of how a prostitution den looks like (not that I’ve been to one though).
Bala found the place creepy. Anushka, who’s a regular clubber also found the place disturbing. The only people who didn’t mind the place were Anita & Geeta. “It’s awesome i tell you!!!” they said together.
We parked our cars (or rather, in my case, Uncle Gary’s car) downstairs, walked a few blocks to the club and there it was on the 4th floor (i think). We had to take the lift to go there.
The place stank with ciggi and the bouncers made me almost piss in my pants. They looked like a bunch of criminals with coats. So that made them look a little more professional. The only difference was that, these guys carried torch lights around instead of guns and hockey sticks.
But what attracted me was the fact that there were many good looking Punjabi girls. And the best part was, most of them were not hairy! How cool is that??
But i also realised the downside of Punjabi clubs. Most of the chics, they bring their boyfriends along with them. And so, if you wanna pick up a girl, it’s difficult because you have a tall, hairy Osama Bin Laden look alike breathing down your neck.
But other than that, Mumbai Se was really fun. Anushka, Anita, Geeta & Jessy danced really well. The boys, Bala, Kiran and yours truly just made fools of ourselves. I for one kept stepping on Jessy’s toes all the time so much so she switched places with Geeta. And then i started stepping on Geeta’s toes. And then i was sent to the other corner of the dance floor dancing alone with myself…
I realised, that some areas of the club is dark. I didn’t realise that there was an old Punjabi man sitting on one of the sofas nearby. I was too tired and i decided to take a break from all the coconut plucking and switching lightbulb moves that i was doing. So i went over to one of the dark corners and decided to sit on the sofa, only to realise that i was actually sitting on his lap.
It was embarrassing, but he didn’t mind it. He was piss drunk. That bastard.
But here’s what amazes me. The club was loud as hell. And Bala kept telling me things like, “Bo! Tun lept. Petty chig!” I couldn’t understand half of the words he said because the music was loud. So all the time I kept saying “What??” I got so tired of people trying to communicate with me on the dance floor because i couldn’t hear them, so all i ever did was just nod my head, make a smiley face and gave them thumbs up.
But what amazed me was the fact that how can people pick up chics in the club?? Half the time you can’t hear yourself speaking so how are you going to hear her speaking?? That’s when Bala said, “Maybe they communicate by passing notes” But how are you to see notes when it’s dark.
So i tried it myself. I went over to one of the girls nearby and keyed something and showed her my phone; “Hey you! You dance really well ;)”
And she replied by typing something on her phone, “Fuck off loser”
I typed, “OK. Brb” And i never came back.
I was also amazed to see elderly Punjabi women in the clubs. And I had a massive culture shock because I’ve never seen older Punjabi women in tight hip hugging jeans with tight tops. I was so used to seeing them in Daputtas and Punjabi suits.
But the most disturbing part of the whole night was the fact that Mumbai Se is actually broken into two sections or more like factions. I realised, Indians, we have a thing to break things into two. Like Pakistan and India. We just enjoy seeing two things instead of uniting them and turning them into one. So it’s no surprise that family politics are quite rampant in the Indian community. We just love to see two parts of everything. The boy’s side and the girl’s side. It kind of reminds me of cassette players. Side A and Side B.
Back to my story, so Mumbai Se is broken into two parts. One is Badshah (yeah i know, Badshah LMAO!) and Haveli (Jessy says Haveli means Palace in Hindi. It certainly didn’t look like a palace to me, more like a brothel from a street in Karachi). So Badshah (BAD Shah lol!) is for the younger generations like us, who just want to club, drink, waste ourselves and money and snog in the corners of the room all the time while lying to our parents that we’re actually having a study group session in one of our friend’s place. Meanwhile, Haveli is more for the older generation where they enjoy the good old times like they had in their younger days in India.
The only soft looking bouncer granted us a 5 minute sneak preview of the place. So we went in and were amazed and disgusted to see what was unfolding before our eyes.
On the stage, were a bunch of girls in tight lenga (and scantily dressed too). They were beautiful, beautiful, and beautiful! And i doubt they’re Punjabis. Must be Pakistanis. Only Pakistanis do such things (lol i’m just kidding, relax. It’s a joke)
The audience were a bunch of drunk Punjabis (a mix between North Indians & Pakistanis as well) and each one of them had a RM 50 note in their hands save for one poor dude who sat at the far end with a RM 10 note in his hand. And each one of them were waving their notes at the girls like how we wave for taxis.
And the girls came over to them, did some sexy dance moves, pocketed the money and I bet on my mother that those old geezers must have been cumming in their pants. The girls (not the ones dancing, but Jessy, Anushka, Anita & Geeta) were feeling weird and disgusted but the boys (us, ofcourse) were actually enjoying ourselves.
But yeah, i did feel a little disgusted. I mean, how could she wear a beige colored lenga??? She should have wore a red one. The beige one was just too disgusting!
But something struck my minds and made me think. Punjabis are a hairy bunch of people so how come the girls that I saw in the club weren’t hairy at all?? Something’s fishy…
But aside from all that, we all had a great time.