Bombay My Love

Many years ago, Pinch and I spent a cold night at Victoria Terminus Station. It had probably been renamed to CST already but we only knew it as VT Station. Janfest was on and typically the concerts would end just before the last train departed. One night, it looked like the last concert was going to run longer and Mom-Dad and the others chose to leave. Pinch and I opted to stay back and what can I say, my awesomely cool parents let us do just that…

The concert ended and we had a few hours to kill before the local trains began around 5 am. So we walked around South Bombay and finally came to VT. Even now, I can taste the feeling of safety and familiar comfort I experienced that night. Perhaps it had to do with the guy walking with me, someone who I knew, even back then, would be more than a good friend. But it also had much to do with the fact that I was in Bombay, a city that has contributed so much to my sense of independence, freedom and generosity. VT station was bustling even in the middle of the night. Trains were arriving from other parts of the country, goods were being unloaded, tired families waited with luggage for trains departing later in the night. VT was brightly lit, porters were busy, the station had an appearance of continuous activity. Piles and piles of newsprint lay around, busy vendors sorted their stuff, packed and tied them and cycled away… I wondered, does this city ever sleep? No, she is awake all the time – keeping a benevolent eye over all her children.

Today, a young couple may think twice and then discard the idea of spending a night at VT. Hardly anyone might find the idea of walking around South Bombay at 2 am safe, let alone romantic. So much of what Pinch and I share is tied with Bombay. Shopping at pavement book stalls in the middle of the monsoon, bun pav maska at Bastani, lunch at that Irani eatery where we gorged on chicken dhansak, walks along Marine Drive… I hope that generations of young couples will get to experience the beauty and charm that is Bombay. I hope they get to revel in the generosity of the city that allows them to squeeze into a crowded train compartment and grants them the space to live in each other’s eyes. I hope they understand that in Bombay, we truly get by with the kindness of strangers and friends we have never met. All the world loves a lover… and Bombay does too! Nooks and crannies designed for hour-long chats, friendly waiters who serve you cappuccino, day after day, never asking you to leave, even long after the coffee grounds have dried… and look away at sound of the rising voices and pretend not to notice the red-rimmed eyes. Transvestites who bless you and curse you alike but hardly ever let you feel like you’re alone in a city that seems to never stop, never rest, never sleep…

Yeah, we are in this together and yet it feels like we are being torn apart and the slender fabric of Bombay is wearing thin. But Bombay is pure silk with incredible tensile strength and radiant shimmering beauty. Bombay is my home, she has a huge chunk of my heart captive and as much as I curse the terrible roads, the awful traffic, the perennial MTNL construction, my heart can only pray that this magnificent city, my home for more than 25 years, continues to remain indomitable, generous and all-embracing… as she has always been.