Mumbai. My city. There is no where else in the world, that i feel so connected – and i have lived in other places. I can watch the city go by, for hours at a go. feeling every pulse of it. Alive, and full of hope.
This is really where all the dreams begin – can’t remember how many movies begin with families arriving here, starting afresh, and the city letting them.
My grandfather ran away to Mumbai, to work in the mills. Away from oppressive poverty, and even more oppressive rules of caste (yes – the caste rules impacted the upper caste too, in that generation – there were jobs he couldn’t do in the South, because of his caste. He came here to start afresh. In the mills.
There is the Gateway of India, and there is the Gateway to India – Victoria Terminus or Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj Terminus is definitely the latter. It is Mumbai’s way of saying to the people who come here from all over – give me your dreams, and i will make them happen.
The city doesn’t care who you are, what your background is, who your father is or how important he maybe. It doesn’t care what PIN Code you stay in, or whether you stay in the distant suburbs, the next town, or a posh ghetto. It doesn’t care. What it does care about is are you good enough to do the work you say you can do. And, do you deliver. ?
Mumbai is hopelessly overcrowded. Bursting at it’s seams. And, yet there is a little humour in dealing iwh situations. A certain ‘adjust karlo’ that works. You do it because you know it is good karma, payback happens within the week, someone else adjusts for you.
For such a crowded city, one of the remarkable things that i find is how people manage to find their own space, and privacy. Be it couples catching a moment of togetherness on the promenade, or someone just staring aimlessly at Queens Necklace. Maybe the waves of the ocean soothes us, and makes us more accommodating
And just as the city doesn’t care who you are, it asks you to ignore that the city itself is worn out. Not very pretty. Haphazard growth. And, kind of looks like giant concrete blocks that have come together, to provide us a place to sleep, where we can recover from the day, and get back to work the following day.
The city truly looks beautiful at night, where all it’s warts are hidden by the interplay of light and shadows. The energy begins to show, the pulse of the city … always awake.
As I get older i wonder, is this the city for me when i retire. or should i think of moving away to a quieter place. A place that is, maybe, not moving at such a break neck pace.
I try every so often to get away to my home in the hills – Lonavala. The longest I have managed to stay there is 4 days. i have run back to mumbai. I fear my sense of well being is linked to this city of mine. And, i wonder, if that will change in the future.