3 Ways in Which Mumbai Changed Me

It's been nine months now and it feels like Mumbai is soon going to give birth to a new me! Call it the new-city effect or anything but Mumbai has definitely been one of the most rewarding forms of introspection.

1. Gone FootLoose

Everyone becomes an explorer during the first few days in a new city. But in my case, it seems that the un-tag button has been disabled. I just can’t let go of this tag – explorer. It’s been 9 months in this city now and I still can’t say that I know it enough. The sunset on marine drive is pink sometimes and sometimes its reddish blue. I want to see all its shades.

P.S.: a 'must-do' - You would not want to miss the 45-minute ferry ride from Mumbai Alibaug. It's bliss. 

   

2. Gone Plump

While my Delhi counterparts were busy cribbing about Mumbai food, I was gaining weight! Not because the food is good here but because food is my travel muse. For me, eating has always been an important subset of travelling. Though I was always a food-lover, the transformation to a human-zomato can be ascribed to this city.

P.S.: Kuch Meetha Ho Jaye? Try Nanumal Bhojraj's Moong Dal Halwa with Rabdi, Haji Ali Centre's Fruit Cream and Theobroma's Oreo Brownie. 

3. The Shutter-Bug bit me

It's not that I turned into a photographer overnight. I was always interested in photography but somehow Mumbai gave me that extra push. Now, I enjoy clicking pictures of dinky things more than taking selfies.

I'm afraid that I'm not myself in here and I'm scared that I'm. This feeling is weird. The thought of staying outside till midnight no longer scares me; I don't know whether it should ? Though I have become more confident, I have become more conscious as well.  Life is changing in front of my eyes. It's running. I don't know whether I am keeping pace with it or not. 

When the prospect of confrontation with this new me scares me, I say to myself Mumbai sab sambhaal lega (will take care of everything).

When 'they' became 'us'

This is about Dharavi, a place crumbling under the weight of the tag ‘Asia’s largest slum’. Having done my graduation in Urban Planning, I had read a lot about Dharavi. While travelling towards it, I was thinking of the pictures I had seen of the place and things that I had heard about it. I was reminded of a headline that I had read a few years ago - ‘54% of Mumbai lives in slums’ (World Bank’s Report, 2006).  I was mentally prepared to walk through narrow dirty lanes, see make-shift cramped houses, smell garbage and talk to frowned faces.

“Yahi Hai” (This is it) confirmed a passerby. We had reached. We continued meandering further into the enclosed streets of Dharavi. Barred by the corrugated iron sheets, sun rays could no longer reach us. It almost felt like we were entering a womb – cold and dark. Probably we were in the womb of Mumbai - Dharavi, the city inside a city.

I saw children in school uniforms walking back home. Men could be seen working.  Few women were standing and talking in a cosy corner. Children could be seen playing on streets.  I could see evidence of life! Those I saw were more than just slum dwellers. Those images that I had seen, came to life. A place which has always been called by names like ‘shadow of Mumbai’ or the ‘darker side of Mumbai’ appeared to have an identity of its own.

A Letter to Mumbai

Dear Mumbai,

Marine Drive, Picture taken on July 6,2015

I hope this letter finds you in the best of your spirits. I am an Amdavadi at heart and have grown up watching Hindi cinema and this has been written with reference to all those Bollywood movies which have always portrayed you as the ‘city of dreams’, mahanagri (the big city),etc. 

I came here on 30^th June, 2015 with two bags, big dreams in eyes, anxiousness in heart and ambition in mind. I was looking for you; I asked a teenager if he knew your address, he sent me to Marine Drive. I didn’t find you in the water droplets which splashed on my face; I didn’t feel you in the embarrassment I experienced when I saw a couple making out. I thought to myself, probably that stupid boy sent me to a wrong place. 

Then I asked an intelligent looking lady, could you please help me find Mumbai. She pointed towards the local trains. The first glimpse itself was daunting. (Suddenly, my love for Ahmedabad’s BRT buses was aroused.) While I was still figuring out how and when I should  climb up, like a gust of wind takes away dry leaves with itself, I was pushed inside the train by the fleet-footed crowd. Before I could even realize that I got inside the train, I got flushed out on the next station. Damn, I missed you again, I couldn’t find you. I don’t know what exactly I was looking for. Perhaps, my mind was so coloured

Chhatrapati Shivaji Terminus, 
Picture taken on July 15,2015

 by the cinema visuals, that in spite of being so close to you, I couldn’t see you. However, I had not given up hopes yet. 
I had heard a lot about Bombay vada pav, I thought I might as well try my luck there. So I boarded a kaalipeeli taxi and went to the most popular vada pav seller in the city, and asked him to make a bombai eestyle vada pav. Much to my annoyance, I found nothing in there except a deep fried alloo wada sandwiched inside a dry bun which was difficult to swallow (Believe me Bombay Vada Pav is over rated, Ahmedabad’s is much better). 

However, gradually, I got busy with my college – new faces and new challenges.  It’s been a month-and-a-half now and I don’t know whether I have met you or not, but I am happy with the image that I have created of you. I have met a new Mumbai while I was searching for you. This Mumbai doesn’t shout and boast, it is more humble and inclusive. Now I don’t get intimidated by the bustling crowd around me. I am a part of this crowd too. I have acquired the skill to climb into a local train. I have started to develop a fondness for Bombay Wada pav too; it has become my 4 pm snack now. It’s called acceptance. I have accepted you, and thanks for accepting me.

Yours truly

Recent Mumbaikar

Soumyata