Mumbai..

It was a Wednesday. 26/11/2008. I was in Bangalore. It was a typical Bangalore evening for me. Back from office. Tired. Hungry. Irritated. I saw my PG mates glued to the idiot box. A high voltage Hollywood style adventure was unraveling in the land of Bollywood. The only difference,it was for real. The blood,the fire. The blasts. And more frighteningly the deaths!

The Fourth Estate was in full flow. Giving us every minute detail.A lady went a bit overboard. Well that helped the villains,but gave her channel a few more TRPs.

The City of Life,weathered that storm.Life became normal in this megapolis. The sea of humanity,that this city is,engulfed all her wounds all her sorrows within herself. The rest of the country,got off their TV sets. The exciting film has come to an end. A few good Samaritans have died! They shook their heads. Swore revenge against the enemy country and a particular religion. Under some fake monikers,almost destroyed Pakistan over the net. And that's that. Over and out.

Today is 26/11/2010. Today is Friday. Salvation day for us software professionals. But today is also 26/11. And today I am in that city. Someone has called this city,City of Life,someone Maximum City,someone has sung E dil jeena mushkil yahan,and someone countered with e dil jeena asaan yahan...

Like any outsider who visited the city after 26/11/2008,I was also curious to see all "those" places.Well I disembarked at CST.What I watched there,can happen only here in this country. Almost no policeman. The people are again left at the mercy of their fate. Cama Hospital is just beside the station. I once again looked back,and a cold chill ran through my spine.

I took a taxi from CST to Churchgate. On the way saw the lights of BSE.That same BSE,where it all began.Took a local train from Churchgate. The local trains! Another target to show off barbaric heroism.

I have now visited The Taj and Oberoi quite a few times by now. The seductive Marine Drive,the claustrophobic local trains.. saw it all. They came in hordes. Fired zillions of round,and were not able to break even the tiniest bit of a Mambaikkar's will. Their will to live and survive.

Thanks to Hindi movies,Mumbai for the rest of India,is their City of Dreams. Their City of Hope. I was no different. For me Mumbai was the city of Amitabh,the city of Sachin Tendulkar. But the moment I reached this city,I had the same feelings as Naipaul had. I will be engulfed in a sea of humanity.

When you travel in a local train.that dream of Big B or Sachin evaporates into thin air. I was lucky,I did not have to travel much.But what of those who travel in those trains. I have not seen the trains that used to ferry Jews to Auschwitz,but were they worse than these?

The roads are another challenge. The traffic never moves. Anyways in all the other major cities of the country,traffic anyways does not move,so no big surprise here. The roads are broken. And again no big surprise. So what on earth makes even dilapidated flats' prices astronomical. I was given to understand there is something called Rent Act. Like all other laws given to us by our former colonial masters,this was also given to us by them. And we never bothered to change it.

I come from a city of street food! Street food's place in Calcutta is just next to God. Nothing earthly compares to it. From phuchka to Egg roll. Though the foods are vastly different,Street food here also has the same reverence. Vadapav,pavbhaji,missal pav,ussal pav and chats rules.

Well coming back again to 26/11. Nothing has stopped this city. Then what those bullets did? Except for abruptly ending some lives,nothing.Those bullets were impotent. The trains are filled,Leopold cafe is filled,and Gateway of India and Marine Drive are teeming with life. Chowpatty is still equally filthy with the left overs from the chats and vadapav,that famous street food I was talking about.

On a night while walking towadrs Marine Drive from the Chruchgate station,I saw a beggar. When I reached my destination I was standing by the side of Brabourne Stadium. In front of me was the sea. And the Queen's Necklace,beautiful and seductive. And the Nariman Point;Aamchi Canary Wharf!! Within a few minute I saw poverty,I saw India's obsession, cricket and I saw money. Everything is here. Standing on the concrete I saw people,people watching the Nariman Point and the Marine Drive.

And then I realized,no matter how many bullets are fired,how many bombs are blasted,this city wont stop dreaming. They will always have a hope.This unflinching,mercilessly calculating city;this city which moves like a clock,tick tock tick tick tock,has heart. The heart is tucked away somewhere,that we do not see. That heart,which forces it's people to pull in the people hanging precariously in the trains,put an umbrella on someone's head in the pouring rain,that heart! This city marches on. Someone's City of Life,someone's City of Hope...