The Visitor

All you poor “Migrant” people, who get transferred to places for work, those of you who shift to new cities for jobs, marriages etc, will identify with my feelings here.

Once you leave a city that has been your home for several years, you continue to identify it as “your city” but only till you revisit it. You may still have friends, relatives staying there. Some of you lucky ones may even own a house, yet when you revisit that city you are in its past, you are the visitor to that city, you never feel you belong there anymore.

On this thought I try as bravely as I can to pen down my feelings, an ode to the city of my past.

THE CITY OF MY PAST: I rushed into her arms, like a long separated lover, savoring her sights, sounds and smells. She seemed cold and distant, unyielding to me. My favorite haunts felt outlandish, brimming with strangers, cacophony of uncomprehending conversations, and then the deafening silence. I felt alienated by her changes, even though they were minor ones.  I was the observer, a clear glass window separating me from them. They belonged here, I didn't, I had a return ticket in my bag somewhere, and I had to leave.

MY CITY NOW: At first I was resentful of the move. Hated every moment of the shift. Grumbled, fumed and cursed my fate. She seemed to me shoddy, unworthy of my caliber. I mocked and jeered her for her eccentricities. Comparisons made things worse. I was an emotional wreak at this break off, it tore at my sensibilities, at my very existence.

36000 FEET ABOVE THE EARTH: The city fell back and I rose to greet the sky, my solace in the apathetic flight announcements and travel brochures. I longed for my home in the new city, where the comforting privacy of my pillow would allow me to vent out my emotions. The city had discarded me like bland  over-chewed gum.

                                    

THE CITY OF MY PAST: I see her sometimes, snippets of her beauty, in films, on TV, once overwhelming to me- now, just my yesterday, falling away like dried brown leaves. I had held on to her like you hold on to a single earring when the other half of the pair is lost. What good was that for? So I have decided to toss back the pebbles I had picked up at the beach, back into the sea, where it belongs.

MY CITY NOW: She welcomed me back with a demure expression, never questioning my loyalty. It was as if I had never left. I smiled at strangers, there was a quaintness about this place, I think I may start liking her after all. My home felt snug and secure, domestic chit chat and catching up no longer mundane. I felt so happy to be home, the plate of hot dal-chawl priceless in its value. I set my alarm for morning walk, the forests at Seminary Hills were calling. I think I fell asleep with a smile.

An Affair To Remember

My sweet short romance with the island city of Mumbai started just after a year of living there. It began in secret (as most affairs do). It crept into my life slowly, took over my very existence and now heart racing I recall my rendezvous, in the tree lined Altamont Road; in gorgeous buildings of Ballard pier and Fort; in grand Neo-Gothic buildings of Victoria Terminus; Mumbai High Court and University; in the easily accessible vintage Fiat cabs  with drivers ranging from amicable, crude to boorish;  the breath-taking view from the flyover at Marine Drive at twilight; the crowded and energetic Kalbadevi and Bhulleshwar; the turning from Babulnath temple towards Walkeshwar (takes my breath away each time); the view  from Kamla Nehru Park; racing downhill  towards Kemps corner from Malabar Hill; the crashing waves at Priyadarshani Park; the silhouette of lovers at sunset in Girgaun Chowpatti slowly working  its magic into me.

Victoria Terminus

Some of the simple reasons why I fell in love: The Mumbaikar- Functional, hardworking, unpretentious and practical- here is where I learned to appreciate life. The high energy outside local stations, the hardships and the struggles of the working classes, their long commuting hours, their lack of space and privacy inspires you to live life to the fullest. People let you be what you want to be.

Sunset At Marine Drive

Then it is the extremities of this city- Five star housing apartments with chawls for company, vada pau selling next to fine dining restaurants, MNC CEOs travelling next to the neighbourhood plumber! The list is endless and i have never experienced this anywhere in India.The other reason why I love Mumbai is for its weather- when it rains, it’s the most amorous thing I have ever experienced, the waves in the Arabian Sea swell up in the high tide and crash into the shores (near Haji Ali) and transfix you with their mystery and majesty! You don’t need layers in winter and the summers are tolerable.

Haji Ali

Mumbai has to be experienced during festivals to get a feel of the exuberance that brings out the spirit of the city (culminating in the mad frenzy of Ganpati Visarjan witnessed from the Kennedy Bridge)!

Flora Fountain

I love Mumbai because I feel safe here, it is the only city in India where a woman can safely take a cab at midnight and take the BEST buses without being pinched or gawked at; Can walk at marine drive at 1am and my teenage daughter has the freedom to take public transport and reach her college without feeling intimidated! How many cities in India can boost of this?

Ballard Estate

In Mumbai I feel free, free to go where I please, do what I want, wear what I want, with nobody judging me on my social class, gender or where I come from.

Read the following in a book on Mumbai, “The city is like a mistress- mysterious and engulfing. You can never understand her, and perhaps that is why you may never want to leave her side”

But I did have to leave- With hope that someday, one day, we shall meet again. Au Revoir.

Priyadarshini Park

(Photo Credits: My trusty Samsung phone)