Mechanics of Moving : The Mumbai Chapter.

“Why do people move? What makes them uproot and leave
everything they have known for a great unknown beyond their horizon ?”
- Yann Martel, “Life of Pi”

Mumbai. The city of dreams. Of unputdownable spirit. Of the Gateway of India. Of dense commuters and innumerable local trains. Of the Colaba Causeway and the Fashion Street. Of Marine Drive and Chowpatti. Of Dharavi, and heartbreaking poverty.Of the Prithvi Theatre and the Jehangir Art Gallery. Of an enormous people hollering something (I still haven't found out what..) inside the stock exchange building. These are certain images that come to my minds when I think of Mumbai; That I've lately begun to associate it with.

One fine day, in april '04, it finally happened. I moved to Mumbai for my higher studies (Filmi. Very filmi). But not before I was subjected to the unending misery of justifying my decision (with every effort of trying to sound oh-so-sorted-out !). I said that I wanted to get "exposure" to 'what the world really is' through colorless glasses from an unsheltered arena (i was starting to sound real wise!). "Why Mumbai", they asked. I struggled through my "more opportunities here than anywhere else" and "Mumbai makes you street smart" lines. Logical reasoning would definitely not help me to find the real reason of this shift. Nor would new found transience to some kind of higher level of spiritual attainment. Surely, Calcutta University was as good as Mumbai's. I was well settled there, with an amazing group of friends. So why really was this need to go out to an alien place and try and make a mark there ? Where nobody knows you. Where everyday would be a struggle. Where everything would be new.
I wondered what exactly in me caused this desire to move to Mumbai. Maybe it was this strong urge to feel proud and all too responsible by shouting out loud "I'M FINALLY ON MY OWN!" for the first real time in my life. Maybe I wanted to not get stuck in one place and extend my horizon of meaningful interactions and growth and learning (the process of my trying to sound wise is now complete!),

So that’s how the story went. I got myself in here and got started with a B.A. degree (that, unfortunately for me, raised quite a storm of questions over my decision making ability), I also got into a decent hostel accommodation (where my seniors asked me the abuse the fan in my room with 21 different adjectives!). I started to explore the world around me (Ah! That beloved human idiosyncrasy!). For starters, I got into a Virar fast local and tried getting off at Borivali (I dont even want to talk about it!). There was this time when I mistakenly stepped on the feet of a timid little delicate looking old parsi lady at the Churchgate railway station. With possible the last breath of life in her lungs, (or so I thought!) she let out at me one of the most overpowering yells I'd ever heard. I was too shocked and scared to be even apologetic. I'd never before chanced to come across such a vibrant timid old lady!

Soon, I got into the groove. I was getting used to washing my clothes, trying to escape my seniors at hostel (so in vain!), sleeping at 2:30 and missing my first lectures. Life became a continuous cycle of messing up my room (that archeological site!) and putting it back in shape. In between, I was fortunate enough to find some true friends and live some great moments. After the initial newness factor got over, I learnt loving my life. And my hostel. And even my seniors! I also learnt living on the mess food! And Mumbai was suddenly not all that "alien" anymore. In fact, it is as much as "my" city as anyone else’s. It continues to intrigue me with its wonders and vibrancy and give me joyous moments which i will look back belongingly. Most importantly, it continues to teach me something new everyday.