This is what somebody told me is how Mumbai is referred to…its been only a couple of months that I have spent in the city but it is slowly seeping in, getting in the veins to a point where its hard to live without it.
It has a strange rush, everyone seems to be running but don’t know what they are running for (something which I feel). Every morning you wake up, with an ‘agenda’ you sleep wondering whether the ‘agenda’ was fulfilled or not.
I miss Delhi, having spent all my life there. It’s a strange feeling coming to a new city with new dynamics, new people, a new job, a new industry. The first few days were a cultural shock – the food, the roads, the atmosphere, the loneliness. I used to cry in my heart, reconsider my decision, but something held me.
Guess it was the spirit of Mumbai – the melting pot.
A strange city, you hate it, you abuse it, you crib, but you just can’t let it go. The city seems to be addictive, just like the smoke in my hand right now.
You just can’t let it go.
For a ‘Dilli ka Ladka’ it was hard to start your day with Vada Pao but then some do adjust to it (I wonder when that day will come in my life).
Mumbai/Bombay till now has treated me well (and Insha Allah it will continue to do) but there is just one thing it doesn’t give you, the time to be with yourself, the time to be you and sometimes to miss that ‘you’.
