(This article appeared in the July 15 issue of Property Times. It is online at indiatimes.com and economictimes.com)
You could have knocked me down with a feather in 2002, if you had told me that I would be relocating to Thakur Village, from Pali Hill in Bandra. It was an unbelievable matrix of partially dressed roads lined with a
smattering of a dozen odd shops. You had to hop across the Western Express
Highway to Thakur Complex to frequent a salon, supermart and sabzi mandi.
We moved here in April 2002. We were on family way, needed space and were
getting pigeon holes in the same amount in Bandra. It was like severing an
umbilical cord, moving away from the auto infested lanes of Bandra, lined
with TDR projects. Yet we wanted amenities like play space for kids, a
clubhouse, swimming pool... within the building premises. I didn’t want to
stand in line at a public park to secure a turn on the swing for my child.
So we moved into a big 3 BHK in Oberoi Gardens. Cut to 2006. Life has
changed here, and like how. Apna Thakur da Village has reinvented itself
as a contemporary version of Malgudi, complete with the statue of da
thakur in the Village square, Thakur Cinema standing majestically a
stone’s throw from the burgeoning Thakur College, Thakur Vidya Mandir and
Thakur Public School.
There is a profusion of stalwarts -- DMart, Coffee Day, Planet M, Pizza
Hut, Loreal snip salon, Baskin and Robbins, Kaya skin clinic, Dominos,
Naturals, Ramas, Sify cyber cafes... dotting the Village. New shops pop up
every fortnight. Some reinvent, others relocate. Like Akbar Allys. We
moved here to move far from the madding crowd. Yet the crowd has followed
us. Thakur Village is a Sunday destination for many, with the Evershine
dream park attracting hordes from neighbouring locales like Borivli and
Dahisar.
All in all even though the Village stands at a risk of morphing into
another shooping destination like Lokhandwala in Andheri West, I think
staying in Thakur Village is a satisfying experience. We are two minutes
off the Highway, connectivity is not an issue. There is 24 hours water
supply, Tata Power feeds our sockets at home with electricity, I can see a
lush manicured garden and a limpid blue pool when I look out of the
window. Even the paanwallah delivers the paan at home. Bhajiwallahs have
cell phones and take orders for eggs, sabzi and nariyal paani. And we
breathe fresh air on the 24th floor. There are umpteen classes in the
Village to enrol for or to enrol kids for -- from yoga, to learning
Japanese to Odissi, skating, Shiamak’s...What’s needed? Desperately, a
renowned bookstore like Crossword, and yes, great confectionary shops.
Meanwhile I sip my hot morning tea, watching the rain cascade in sheets
and write in to my technophobe friend, staying in a hamlet near Italy.
Thakur Village, I pen as part of my address at the back of the envelope.
Sounds exotically rustic, doesn’t it? Works for me! |
