Delhi –> Mumbai


I can’t really decide if it’s human nature or just my mental faculties on an overdrive. The anticipation of an event you know will turn out to be an epoch in your life is fascinating, scary and fear-inducing, all at the same time. So as I while away my last days in the city I was born in, having spent last 22 years of my life calling this chaotic city my home, I wonder as to why didn’t I ever realize that all my life I have been taking this concoction of amazing people, beautiful heritage and delectable food, for granted. Never did I wonder as to what life ‘not in Delhi’ would be like. Now knowing that I have to leave the past behind is something that I can’t seem to fathom, and comprehending the fact that I soon have to label this life I was living here as a bygone era, is a little tough to appreciate.

And as it turns out, the stage for the beginning of my fourth of the seven Shakespearian ages would be a small little hamlet in India known as Mumbai! And as of now, there is nothing new I have to say about the city that hasn’t been already said thousands of times. Maybe a few days, weeks or months down the line I might love it or loath it. And the journey from here to there would surely be something to remember forever.

And as it always has been with our kind, future seems enticing as well as terrifying, all at the same time. Broadening our horizons seems to be the obvious thing to do, but leaving our comfort zone is unnerving. Burying the familiar faces from our coterie in a trench in some corner of our brain, which we only visit when in dire need of someone to confide in, seems disrespectful to those overwhelming emotions we felt when we were with those people. But that is how it is supposed to be, isn’t it? We will promise each other, swear to be in touch, but a distant voice inside us will always unceremoniously whisper, apprising us of the slim probabilities of that actually happening. But at that time we will shush them away, with the multitude of emotions running through us overpowering those sane voices. But as passing days coagulate, those whispers assume a form far more eerie, when one day; they rudely thrust onto our face the realization that they were true all along.

But any of this doesn’t mean we do not appreciate the past, the present or the future. It is just a natural progression in which every moment we have lived is instantaneously labelled our past and every moment we anticipate is our future. And before we realise that this moment, right here right now, is our present, it isn’t.

Anywho, I did not realise when my personal monologue mutated into a prosaic credo for the discerning. Nevertheless, having got all of this off my chest, I am ready to proclaim, “Bring it on, Mumbai!”