The Bombay Blues:

Life and luck is westwards…so they say. Hence I decided to try my luck there too. Couple of weeks ago, I found myself in Mumbai, ready to take on the city and explore life there. Not as a tourist or a professional visiting the city on work. Those were safe times and days….but this time as a beginner.

The sights and smell were familiar but everything else seemed different now. Too many people, chaos and organized confusion, crazy traffic jams, narrow roads, buildings without verandahs, sweat pouring down your neck, and the pace. People are perpetually in a hurry, rushing and rushing – to the station, to the shops, to offices, to home. I didn’t see a single person just stand and enjoy a moment anywhere. People are helpful, very much so….that’s in their blood…in the city’s soul. But that doesn’t mean that they are necessarily friendly. Nobody has the time. If you ask them for direction, they will just lift a hand and point and not even look up from what they are doing. When I persisted, I got a strange look but always got help. A nod, a jerk of the head, a finger pointing is all they have the time for. Even a chai-wallah on a footpath near Churchgate. I don’t blame them…that’s what life is all about here.

I am a seasoned traveler, and I easily melt into any city’s culture….or so I had thought. Mumbai shook me up, tossed and threw me around like a rag doll, physically and emotionally. I experienced everything in the city. I traveled by autos, local buses and AC buses, I took the local train; traveled on the western line and the central too. I traveled in the slow (super slow) and the fast as well, in the general ladies compartment and the first class too. I traveled in the morning, afternoon, evening and nights. From Nariman Point to Powai. From Malad to Juhu.

I went to a fishing village in Andheri where hundreds of fishermen and women sell thousands of fish. Gold laden women shouting for attention, brightly coloured boats lined up at the shore, crows having a field day with all the goodies around….it was a strange and a very fascinating sight.

I went to a typical Maharashtrian village on the way to Ahmednagar, set against the strangely shaped hills of the Shayadri. Stretches of red earth, a long winding road and then the misty hills in the distance….I could just imagine how beautiful it would look when the rains came down. Stopping at a small dhaba for a yummy bada pao and ‘full’ chai was a good way to start a day.

I went to the Gymkhana Club, I went for a morning walk near the Powai Lake, I watched Chini Kum in a creased Capri and top because nobody cares, I went to Hawaiian Shack for an impromptu party with my friend and her friends (lovely music!), I had mangoes and cream (not the famed strawberries and cream at Haji Ali thou), spicy konkan food, and lot of prawns.

And then one day the first (pre) monsoon rain fell cold and hard after a particularly muggy day. I was standing near the door of a fast to Andheri at 8.30 in the night feeling the wind and rain on my hair and arms. The drops reflected off the lights of an oncoming local and the girls in that first class compartment squealed with joy. And when I saw the lights and the wet city-line passing by, I finally felt at peace - a part of this crazy city.

But whether the city accepts me and lets me live there is still to be seen.