Oh boy! I’ve run into around 7-8 blogs about this city, since morning (and its not even noon right now). After finishing the blog-reading marathon, I’ve just ended a phone call with around 50 minutes of Bombay-bashing. They say you have to give yourself a year to start getting to like this place, and I am about to hit that deadline.
Bombay - the city of dreams; the city of glitter ‘n glamour; the maya-nagri.
It was the city of my dreams too. Yes it was. Long-long back. And then I set foot in this city. Needless to say it completely fell down on me….
Ah! I have started - all over again. I am always this way. When I was in Europe, I missed India like a fanatic; listening to maa tujhe salaam (by A R Rehman) all the time.
But hey! I am IN India. Does that mean I simply miss Delhi? Yes I am a Delhiite, and I AM a delhiite, and Delhi IS my native place. My parents have lived there since time immemorial, and I was born and brought up there. Having expressed my belongingness for Delhi, I ain’t too fond of Delhi either. I mean it doesn’t get on my nerves like Bombay does and I would defend ‘my city’ to anyone throwing hypes like Delhi being unsafe et al; but, I would certainly controvert a Delhi-extoller.
Maybe home-sick I am. Now my folks are not the exceptionally dotting ones. They have definitely brought me up to be an ‘independent’ lady with all the non-pampering care and un-adulating love (read – I am capable of being on my own).
Or simply, is it that one hits the nadir before shooting up to the zenith of emotions for the city? As said in the last blog I’d read: ‘One can either fall in love with this city or despise it completely...both ways it evokes emotion; it’s impossible to be indifferent!’
With all this gibbering, it can't get truer..
