By Jane Borges
It all began when Mai started remembering. On loop. Repeating snatches from her memory none of us had ever heard about. Hers was a small life, lived between different chawls in South Bombay. The tiny rooms she inhabited with her husband and children was a space of survival, crammed with people, spare furniture and objects. The proximity was suffocating. More so the routine.
By Selma Carvalho
Issue no 16
My great-grandfather Ignatius Borges was from Sadashivgad in Karwar; he worked as a motorman for the railways and travelled often. His younger son, Stephen, my grandfather, served briefly in the army, before moving to Bombay in the 1940s, where he lived in a kudd, a short distance from Cavel. He got married to a Goan bride, my grandmother, Anna Vaz, and got himself a job as a tailor, and settled on Grant Road.
