Bombay.

I have been meaning to write this from a very long time now. With almost just another week left for me in Mumbai (or Bombay; as I would like to call it, meaning no offence to anyone whatsoever), I sat down with my laptop today with the aim of completing this piece. Call it procrastination, laziness, or just a lack of will; I have delayed writing about my first actual experience in the City of Dreams by almost a week and a half. Although I did create mental notes as well as phone-notes about everything I wanted to write about, I just couldn’t do it. Writing is something that I love and I believe, am sufficiently okay at. But, it takes enormous amount of time, and patience, and a calm and peaceful place for me to organize all my scattered thoughts and make a meaningful piece out of those, which is why, most of my posts are either very late, or un-uploaded on the internet. But this one is rather special, and had to be shared with everyone.

Mumbai.

Marine Drive. 10pm.

My first visit to Bombay was a three-day trip with a bunch of friends, in the month of September this year, during the festival of Ganesh Chaturthi, when the city is decked up like a newly-wed with lights, flowers, sweets, crackers, music, dance, and faith – a perfect potpourri that defines the beauty and grandeur of Bombay. We visited almost all the touristy places, did things that every tourist in Mumbai does, and went back to Manipal with a bag full of memories made in every moment that we spent here. After everything I had heard about Bombay from numerous people, I was sure I would love the city. I went back with a promise of coming back again, this time, for a longer period, and alone.

Gleaming lights.

Artwork. Dance.

So, here I am now, for four weeks (three down, one to go) with an internship, friends scattered all over the city who I can hardly meet, and a strong desire to explore the city on my own. The first couple of days were spent in me trying to understand the local train system, and the routes to and from my workplace. Owing to a lack of sense of direction, and my negligence in the past, when I was being taken to several places and guided by a friend, I had to face countless situations like going into the wrong building, taking the wrong turn, getting into the wrong train, and getting down at wrong stations. I survived it all with the help and assistance of the dysfunctional GPS in my phone, fellow passengers on local trains, and passers-by on the road.

Workplace at night.

Churchgate Station.

Everyday struggle.

After I was comfortable with my usual route, I took baby steps towards exploring the city, like taking a longer route just to know all the exits and entrances to offices and stations, spending free evenings aimlessly walking around looking for a new place to eat at or putting my newly acquired camera to work, and eventually getting lost and taking a taxi back home.

Taxis.

Gleaming lights.

On off-days, I had the entire day to myself, so, on the first Sunday, I went out for a movie with friends followed by another one of those aimless walks on roads leading to nowhere. My personal favorite was the day I tried to go out shopping alone, to a totally different part of the city. It was annoying at first, but later, when I recounted the events of the day in my head as a part of my daily routine, I found it really hilarious. I tried to recollect everything I did the last time I went to this area, and tried doing the same again, and ended up reaching the wrong market after misguiding the autowala in addition to getting confused myself. That really was my worst day ever, with all the sun, heat, dust, futility and aimless wandering.

Starry.

After a really long week at work and with certain health issues, I chilled on the third Sunday with a quiet lunch at home, and met up with an old friend of mine from school. On one cool Saturday evening, I decided to go on a long walk to Marine Drive, sit along the sea face, enjoy the breeze and explore the locality. It turned out to be the most beautiful and serene evening for me in Bombay till date.

Rides.

Serenity.

I agree to everything that has ever been said to me about Bombay. Yes, like every other big city in this country, it is polluted and crowded. But, if you give it a thought, it is clear that it is the people, the crowd, that make the city what it is. I mean, which good thing on this planet does not come with a downside to it? At the end of the day, it is one’s perspective that matters.

The Taj at night.

Bombay is nothing like any other city I have ever been to, or lived in, or maybe the right way to put it is, no other city I have ever lived in is like Bombay. It is fast-paced and challenging, and welcoming and fun, all at the same time, and the best thing about it is, that being a metro city, it has not lost touch with its culture either. Malls and small scale industries, high rise buildings and old ones with British architecture, upcoming eateries and restaurants as old as the British rule in India, continental cuisine and vada pav, Bollywood superstars and struggling and aspiring actors, old school theatre and new age cinema – all these survive in the city without any complaints. I feel, the only other Indian metropolitan city that is even close to having the magic that Bombay does, is Calcutta (reasons behind this statement will be mentioned in later posts *winks*).

Solitude is bliss.
Photo credits : Swayam Gandhi

Bombay is like a routine in itself. It is like a machine with a soul, which works without a break. It takes you in, and makes you a part of the manufacturing process in no time, and no matter how much input you give, it won’t ever stop functioning at all. I was amazed with the perfection and precision with which every single activity in this city takes place every single day without fail. Just sitting at a bus stop and looking at people pass by, or walking along the streets with absolutely nothing to do, is enough for someone like me to grow fond of this city.

Bombay is alive, and it makes everything and everyone in it, feel alive.