Monday, November 28, 2011

a part of me

It has been 3 years... since I saw Mumbai wounded... 3yrs to the blood bath, betrayal, loss and infinite amount of grief... 3 yrs to the candle march, silent protests, unsolved problems... 3 yrs since I am paying tax to this castrated government for keeping a murderer alive...

how did i solve the problem...? I escaped...I just turned my back on my wounded city and escaped... I ran away to deal with another and newly evolved set of problems... and now after a year and half as I decide to go back to Mumbai, I can only but wonder... what does it look like now to stand at the Marine Drive and stare at the Hilton towers...what does it feel to sit at CST and sip coffee from Ram Pyare's stall... do the pigeons still gather to feast off the grains from hand... Mumbai has changed, I have changed... but Mumbai in me is still the same... I have never loved someone, as much as i have loved my city... my home which has given me unselfish protection, more than adequate attention, sense of joy, blissful solitude... an identification...

i can;t wait to rush back and hug Mumbai and hold her in my eyes... and get drenched in her charm... my Mumbai...