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Thursday, April 5, 2012

Missing Mumbai


*This is the article I wrote for Insignia 2011*


It is coincidental that this time the theme of this magazine is Mumbai. Exactly at the juncture where I'm in the perfect mood to reminisce about the place that has been my home and that shall always be my home; when I am about to say goodbye to this place to start the next leg of my journey.

Of course, the word journey has to bring local trains to my head. Rightly called the lifeline of this place, despite all the unwanted body massages you invariably are treated to during rush hours, the adventure of getting into a Virar local to get down at Andheri is something only we can boast of. There is something about the Mumbai trains that only Mumbaikars can perceive, make sense of, interpret and understand. Invariably, it is one form of transport 'in Mumbai' that will never disappoint you. The emphasis is meant to be, the local trains in Hyderabad are weird, they come once in 15 minutes, you find men in the ladies compartment and they don’t have cool abbreviations for stations! How most of us spend half our lives travelling in a train and how it just becomes a part of your life! Try asking any Mumbaikar if they can imagine a life without trains, the answer is going to be a resounding no.

I have travelled a major part of my life by bus as well. Travelling by bus is amazing I tell you, especially if it is a long distance ride. If you have earphones, there is nothing that can stop that bus ride from becoming heaven*. *Not applicable if you are standing squished between sweaty people in the middle of the bus or if you get a seat with either a really fat aunty next to you, or worse, with a screaming kid in her hands* Nevertheless, I will still miss the good ol’ BEST bus more than (rather not!) the ill willing rickshaw walas who wish to earn as much as an average engineer would after 4 years of struggle and think it is their birth right to refuse anyone a ride.

If there is yet another thing I really am going to miss it’s the coastlines. They are some of the best places to hang around without having so much as a second thought, be it Juhu beach or Bandstand or Carter Road or Marine Drive. Why, in the so called vacation that we had, my friend even sat on the beach and sketched the scenery for her portfolio while we were lolling around. After living in a place where I could walk to a beach, to be surrounded by land on all sides doesn’t feel too good. And it’s always been a dream to sit on Marine Drive at 12 in the night, something I’m not too sure I’ll be allowed to do over here, yet.

Roadside chaat, from a time when I wasn’t allowed to go near it to a time where I eat whenever I get a chance, this is one favourite I won’t have access to once I leave this place. The sukha puri at the end of Pani puri, how much ever you know inside of your heart that that cold paani is the result of some piece of ice dragged through the dusty road, it doesn’t stop you from saying “Ek aur pani puri, bhaiyya!” Same thing about the golas too, it’s the joy of eating something that is not ideal and something so accessible that makes it all the more tempting.
 
And how can I forget?! The monsoons! The ones where the fresh fragrance of wet mud is the unmistakable awaited first sign. That feeling of relief that they have finally arrived. The ones where none of my umbrellas remained unbroken for more than half a monsoon; or maybe less. The ones which inspired me to write so many of the prose/poetry that I can boast of today. The rains I loved to get wet in whilst singing not bothering about the onlookers. I agree this is a romantic view ignoring the various other hindrances particular to the monsoon season but then if I’m leaving this place, I’m going to miss the good parts of everything, right?

One thing common to all of what I’ve mentioned is the familiarity about them. The warm fuzzy feeling when you think about them. Knowing people around me, the idiosyncrasies of the weather, knowing the way to places in the city instinctively, walking on roads that have been treaded on so often, memories of the best times of my life that come rushing to me while I travel, so many things that I may or may not have realized in my life over here that I shall miss when I’m not here any longer. It is something you are never going to be fully satisfied with but make the most of it as long as you’re here. Signing off with a thought that I shall be filled with in the time to come.

“I recognize none of what I see,
 blank walls and bright cars all around me,
where is the warmth I once knew,
 the smile that would be born by just the mention.

 Those days will never come back again,
nostalgic I will be, but with equal amount of pain
 and joy in remembering the place I once knew,
the place I will always know as home.”