“Remember that night, white steps in the moonlight..sharing a dream, on an island, it felt right..”
Listening to David Gilmour’s latest, I was reminded that I live on an island too. Not that it strikes one during the course of an ordinary day. One is very aware of the sea in Mumbai but one really misses the palm trees. People argue that Mumbai is not really an island anymore. I tend to disagree.
One has to step off a train at VT and realize that we live in a sea of humanity. And despite these millions around us we are marooned in our tiny insignificant lives. We are all as lonely as we would have been if we had only sand and coconuts to keep us company.
The efficiency that we are so proud off is just an outcome of Mumbaites trying to reduce their feeling of desolation. Everyone gets to work on time such that they find comfort in the known and the living. And post, we continue holding on to each other at the local bar. As long as we all catch the 12:45. It’s only when you live in Mumbai that you realize that when people talk about the “spirit of Mumbai” they are being literal.
We live literally, metaphorically, and philosophically on the greatest island of them all. And guess what. We absolutely love it!
2 comments:
You bet we do. But you are not the 12:45 brigade any more. Nor am I. But know what? The last Borivli local is at 1:05 AM, if my memory serves me right. And the Railway announcer helpfully keeps announcing that this is the last train of the day since many spirited guys are fast asleep on the benches.
Couple of my friends have actually reached the Borivili shed given that their spirits sagged halfway thru the journey to Malad (remember where it is?) and were relieved of much of their belongings before the helpful police woke them up. On more occasions the neighbours woke them up at the right station. Talk about spirit of Mumbai - it is the right one.
Mishti
Keep up the good work » »
Post a Comment