Can we let the music play on?

In December 2015, the Curmallys, who owned Rhythm House, had to shut it down

Jose Feliciano's Feliz Navidad was playing in the background. The rows were packed with music shoppers of every kind of vintage - the hip-hop-crazed collegian, the classical opera-loving connoisseur, the Jethro Tull wannabe rocker and the aspirational Mariah-Whitney diva. It was the last week before Christmas, and one glance around was enough to make you believe that every kind of music lover was there for their pre-festival pilgrimage; focusing on ticking off buys from their wishlist with robot-like focus.

Ask any Bombaywallah who swears by their music - if it's Christmastime, you would have to be at this Kala Ghoda landmark. And if you didn't, well, sorry but you missed the coolest assortment of rare finds and hot deals that would've made your home festivities a lot more cheery and soulful for that year. It was as sacrosanct as scouring Crawford Market or Bandra before Christmas Day.

There was something about that sanctuary apart from its massive, enviable collection - its knowledgeable and no-nonsense staff, its buzzing vibe, the stash of cool retail therapy from calendars to concert tickets that overflowed from its counter or how you could find a fellow patron and talk music for the next 10 minutes. It was quite an amazing music universe. And then, many of my senior colleagues and older cousins recall its music listening booths. "That was legen--dary," they would recall, in the words of Barney Stinson from How I Met Your Mother.

And then, in December 2015, the Curmallys who owned the place had to shut it down. ‘The music has died' - newspaper headlines screamed, as music lovers poured their hearts out. The city grieved its loss. Countless ideas and possibilities floated around to revive its legacy to no avail. It was one of the properties bought by Nirav Modi. After many of his properties were de-attached by the Enforcement Directorate, its fate hangs in the balance as the National Company Law Tribunal recently appointed a liquidator to auction the building in which Rhythm House is located.

And it is not just with this landmark. Cafe Samovar inside Jehangir Art Gallery and Woodside Inn are two names that immediately come to mind. One was the coolest cultural adda in the city, while the other was a space that had its own share of memories as a culinary hotspot in the pre-Starbucks and Café Coffee Day era. Strand Book Stall, a short walk away, was another popular landmark that shuttered. To this day, loyalists recount its unmatchable list as it wore its tag as the most happening bookstore with humility, thanks to its visionary founder, T Shanbhag. A stone's throw away was Hiro Music, another favourite among discerning music collectors that had to shutter years before Rhythm House.

Single screen cinemas like New Empire, New Excelsior and Eros - all stunning examples of Art Deco architecture and pallbearers of India's rich cine history that ran parallel to the city's rise as the heart of filmmaking in India - had to bring down the curtains on their legacies. Head towards Dhobi Talao, and one of the notable Irani cafés that cease to exist is Bastani & Co. Honestly, we've only just touched the surface.

Some of us reading this column were lucky and privileged to have visited these spots. Each had a proud history, having made an invaluable contribution to the city and etched a special connection with its citizens.

Questions on how to keep their memories alive cross our mind as another year draws to a close. How will coming generations ever be aware of these landmarks that are integral to our local history? And with their loss, will we now only read about them in books, or browse through their histories on websites and in YouTube videos? Each of these places, while they might have served a different purpose, are as important a heritage as are our public buildings and railway termini. Some of these might not even be a century old or display exceptional architectural detail, but what they did was add a new layer, a different, albeit vibrant character and so much diversity to our cityscape. With these losses, the city continues to become poorer. And will continue to be as we cave in to mindless commercial interests showing scant respect for these erstwhile local heroes.

As we look back at 2021, and the heritage that we've lost over the years, one can only hope that if not by physical revival, their memories can be kept alive by the city's chroniclers, documentary filmmakers, and its bards. It's our best shot, really.

mid-day's Features Editor Fiona Fernandez relishes the city's sights, sounds, smells and stones...wherever the ink and the inclination takes her. She tweets @bombayana
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