Over the course of my life, I’ve seen a lot of cities. I’ve
studied in Shanghai,
worked in Lucknow, partied in Delhi, cycled across the streets of Kharagpur,
and even lived through Calcutta! Usually, I have loved the cities I’ve lived
in, and I’m not kidding, I’ve loved them to the point of topophilia. I loved
Kharagpur like a first girlfriend,
often referring to the town as “she”.
But Mumbai is a different ballgame. I can’t bring myself to
call this Monstrosity
“she”. I do love it, but not like a girlfriend. It’s more like the love one bears
for an ex-girlfriend. You can’t forget her, at times you feel that you still
love her, sometimes you really miss her, and time and again she will piss you off. So I thought of the
ways in which Mumbai was like my ex, and came down with a hefty list.
- Both have short-lived mood swings; both don’t know when to drizzle, when to rain, and when to pour
- They’re both mean and heartless, and try to push me around for no reason
- They’re both hot as hell
- Both have often asked me to pay their bills
- They both fuck with me on a regular basis. However, in both cases there’s no sex involved
- A lot of times I want to run away from it (“it” refers to both of them); but I stay, not knowing why
- Both hardened me for times to come; giving me the lessons I needed to live a great life elsewhere
- Periodically, and somewhat predictably, they’ll pour down and when they do all I can do is sit back in terror, trying to pry my way through life
- Both have often asked me to help them out with excel modelling
- I do like being close to them, and when they’re away I do miss them
- Both are carelessly beautiful
“Aye dil hai mushkil jeena yahan
Zara hat ke zara bach ke
Ye hai Mumbai meri jaan!”
The Lonely Traveler
