Hey all,
Long time it has been... have been really busy with work, and shirking work.
After sitting at the workstation for 10 hours, two hours of genuine work and 8 hours of sincere pretension, writing seems to be the last thing in mind. but worry not folks, i have sorted the issue, i think i can do well with 20 less minutes of looking at useless work sheets.
Feel like talking about mumbai. tough city to survive, local trains, existence of a sloth, individuality and differentiation to a degree of a taxi full of dead fishes... i must hate the city...right...??
but somehow i am in love with the city. its prowess definitely lies in stripping you stark naked, of all artificialities and misconceptions, and keeping you grounded.
Me coming from a small town and modest upbringing, mumbai seem to generate a whole spectrum of behavioral patterns within me. I can only fathom, how tough it is for people around me, my Friends and a solitary girl friend, to survive this endless PMSing. my initial reactions to the city were quite acceptable. i liked hanging out at the best pubs, go to discs, ogle at girls. But the second phase is where the things are getting really interesting. I have gotten smitten by the dark alleys and the shady places. Suddenly the charm of Wink, Poison and Leopold seems to be fading. the nearby bar, with stained sofa and light bulb lighting seems rather exciting. (trust me, the sub-prime lending and wall street fiasco are not responsible for this dire state)
why such a disorientation in the thought? I mean if you love mumbai, you should be enchanted by the marine drives, the high rises, the pubs, the classy girls and the richness of it. But here i am...a stark contrast. i am floored by the city, but enamoured by the dark side. i do not find the glitz...glitzy, glamor...glamorous. This thought is harping me!!
But then i realize, that by resigning myself to the darkness and felling in love with it, i am actually using the age old concept of "Comparative Comfort". When i see a taxi guy getting slapped by a 20 something brat for 5 rs., a beautiful girl dancing in a sleazy bar for a petty 10 rs. i realize that i have no right to complaint. i have gotta fair deal.
you can not genuinely love something till you are aware of the negative side. in that manner and many other i think, I LOVE MUMBAI.
My hands are empty, pockets are vacant,
here i am,
out of luck...yet full of hope.
"sometimes nothing...can be a real cool hand"- Paul Newman in ' Cool Hand Luke'