Change overwhelms me. I thought I had outgrown my childhood inability of dealing with it and left far behind my tendency of moping around whenever I could foresee a possible change in the future. As a young girl I would sit on the sofa and sulk while my parents made plans for rearranging furniture. Now that I think of it, even my decision of continuing my high school education in the same school I had studied for the most part of my life, might also be majorly influenced by the simple comfort I enjoyed in wearing a plain white shirt-grey pleated skirt school uniform. But as years passed, I had not just begun accepting but also seeking change. I had made new friends in college, worked in a setup where I thought I would never last. I had become more worldly wise, accepting and leaving behind things and people.
Although this one change took me off guard. A possible reason could be that I had fallen in love. The only reason to be honest.
It was not love at first sight. It never is this way with Mumbai I guess. It is only when you walk with it among the giant swarm of people trying to match their pace on the busy streets of Dadar, or watch over it from your bedroom window on a Diwali night as the skies light up now and then, or listen to it on a monsoon evening , a cup of tea in hand, or feel it breathing in and out of you as you close your eyes and take a whiff of the Arabian sea at Marine drive, do you realize you have been swept off your feet.
Now that I am back to Nagpur, the place where I was born and grew up in, I strangely dont feel at home, not quite yet. Change is inevitable as they say and so was this one. In moments of utter chaos in my brain, when I grope around in darkness to get a hold of a slice of a delectable piece of memory, I savor it to my hearts content and smile. But then it was also a welcome change that had taken me to Mumbai. I had never before lived on my own, cooked thrice a day, selected curtains for a room, haggled with a vegetable vendor, made friends with people twice my age and so much more I have lost count of. It was a crash course in womanhood and I enjoyed it. This is also the place where I realized that if you work really hard, and give your heart and soul to what you love, noone and nothing can stop you.
My memories of Mumbai are devilishly bittersweet but so is dark chocolate which I have learnt to love and have begun to crave for. Through the ups and downs of my stay in Mumbai I have always had something to look forward to. A few but immensely fond memories of mine were now and then ’instagrammed’ – if thats even a word. I am not sure my photography or timing of it does any justice to sum it all up, but its worth a try.
The vastness – at Dadar Chowpatty