It is 12 in the night and everybody around is asleep. Well obviously I am not in my insomniac hostel. Its summer and so its home.
Home had always been Indore for me, for the past 17 years at least. Now that my family and so conclusively I shifted to (this 'magical' city of) Mumbai, changing the definitions has been a little difficult.
I look out of the window and there are hundreds of buildings staring back at me. The excessive light/smoke pollution has ensured that the only twinkling things in the sky are Aeroplanes. And there are a lot of them. Indore by this time is mostly sleeping. Or at least getting ready to sleep. But this freaking place never sleeps. Even now I can hear faint noises of cars honking. Maybe after a few hours too when finally people will end their work. And then of course there will be a new set of people starting their day: newspaper vendors, florists et al. You hear, 'life is a race'. Come here to see it practically. Race to catch the morning train, Race to get the first customer, Race to the top.
Come to think of it, the energy of this city is mind blowing. Nobody stops here. No you can't afford to waste all that time. There are hundreds ready to take your place; even if it is a corner of a footpath. The good thing is, this kind of brings in a lot of professionalism in the people here. They all strive to provide you the best of the services. You go to any shop, they will try and attend you as soon as possible and to the best of their abilities, something which was missing in Indore. There everybody was slightly chilled out. But in Mumbai, even if it is a vada pav seller, there are high work ethics.
(A quick tip: If you are roaming about the city and looking for a quick , cheap snack, do not think twice before buying a vada pav. Its six to eight bucks and its amazing.).
And they survive. For all the fight, for all the survival of the fittest, they survive. All of them. Once they come here, they don't leave. They survive in the toughest of the conditions. They survive with their house open to the ogling eyes of the local trains and to the sewage water. Standing in an 'office-rush' filled evening local seeing the still lingering smile on the regular passengers chatting up with there 'train friends' I wondered what keeps them going.
Dreams they say. I welcome myself to the City of Dreams.
Home had always been Indore for me, for the past 17 years at least. Now that my family and so conclusively I shifted to (this 'magical' city of) Mumbai, changing the definitions has been a little difficult.
I look out of the window and there are hundreds of buildings staring back at me. The excessive light/smoke pollution has ensured that the only twinkling things in the sky are Aeroplanes. And there are a lot of them. Indore by this time is mostly sleeping. Or at least getting ready to sleep. But this freaking place never sleeps. Even now I can hear faint noises of cars honking. Maybe after a few hours too when finally people will end their work. And then of course there will be a new set of people starting their day: newspaper vendors, florists et al. You hear, 'life is a race'. Come here to see it practically. Race to catch the morning train, Race to get the first customer, Race to the top.
Come to think of it, the energy of this city is mind blowing. Nobody stops here. No you can't afford to waste all that time. There are hundreds ready to take your place; even if it is a corner of a footpath. The good thing is, this kind of brings in a lot of professionalism in the people here. They all strive to provide you the best of the services. You go to any shop, they will try and attend you as soon as possible and to the best of their abilities, something which was missing in Indore. There everybody was slightly chilled out. But in Mumbai, even if it is a vada pav seller, there are high work ethics.
(A quick tip: If you are roaming about the city and looking for a quick , cheap snack, do not think twice before buying a vada pav. Its six to eight bucks and its amazing.).
And they survive. For all the fight, for all the survival of the fittest, they survive. All of them. Once they come here, they don't leave. They survive in the toughest of the conditions. They survive with their house open to the ogling eyes of the local trains and to the sewage water. Standing in an 'office-rush' filled evening local seeing the still lingering smile on the regular passengers chatting up with there 'train friends' I wondered what keeps them going.
Dreams they say. I welcome myself to the City of Dreams.
nice one. left a smile on my face...
ReplyDeleteNice post. Hope you have fun in Mumbai :)
ReplyDeleteNice to see an optimistic take on the Rat Race. :) Now, if only I could pick up a thing or two myself...
ReplyDelete