Bye Bye Bombay

This is not an ode to the city I love, neither is this a farewell letter. Before you read further, let me tell you, I’m now into my last week in Mumbai. Well, at least for the next 5 years, I’ll be living in Delhi to study law. I don’t know why I am writing this. Hell I don’t know what this is. Take it as my rambling if thy shalt will.

It’s a funny feeling. Moving. The verb, the word but mostly the feeling. It’s not just that you’ll be leaving behind a life that you’ve carefully built. But you’ll be leaving it behind for something new, something unfamiliar.18 years of my life, my friends, my love, my city, and my way of living, everything, gone. It’s a huge thing because of many reasons. In life, we never realise it, but it is always what that is around us builds us. Bombay, the city I was born in, the city I lived my childhood in, the city I hit teenage in, the city in which I turned 18,the city that was always my solace, the city that taught me life, the city that punished me, the city that nurtured me. Bombay was always there for me. I’ll specially miss sitting by Marine Drive or Worli Seaface,enjoying my timeout from life, staring blankly at the sea. If you haven’t already done that, do it. Just for a few minutes. Stare into the vastness and the far far away expanse. Think of nothing. Just stare. I proudly say that the city always was my first love. Today, with just a few days left before my flight to Delhi, I have no words to say to it. There is so much to do, so much to say, yet no time. I feel like I’m being torn away from it, piece by piece. A few days ago, I saw this picture which put my turbulence in words.

Mumbai is a city. Bombay is an emotion.

It is true folks. I’m leaving Mumbai but the Bombay shall always be in me, and right now, it is bubbling up via this post, and I am unabashed when I say I don’t want to bottle it up.

People always yearn for security. That’s the entire point of our life. To lead a secure life. For a just emancipated adult, my parents were my umbrella, my armour and my everything. I remember those tiny fleeting moments when they were there for me. Trust me; they are the ones you remember and not the major ones. In Delhi, I’ll be alone. Yes, we live in the 21st century, so we have phones, SMSes, BBM, Whatsapp, e-mails, letters, Skype and all those other mediums which reduce the distance between people. But the problem is that they can never remove the distance, only reduce it. However close I may feel, the brutal cold truth would be that I am thousands of kilometres away in Delhi while they’ll be in Mumbai, and not with me physically. That’s just something I’ll have to deal with, accept and move on.

Friends. Dost. The word rings like a hollow bell. They complete you. Always do. Suddenly, they won’t be a phone call away. I won’t be running into them at Kandivali station. No sir .I admit I have never been the friend I could have been, but they have and that makes all the difference in the world. Honestly I’m scared. What happens from here? Where does life take us? We still stay the same way? Things change? Ugh, this is mind numbing. It has always been this way; we have always been a call away. Not anymore. I won’t be able to give them a call and pop over to their place. They won’t be able to give me a call and meet me at the McDonald’s near Andheri and Kandivali stations(which they know are my second favourite place in the world to meet, after the stations themselves). We might drift apart, partly because of me, partly because of them. I’ll make new friends and they’ll make new ones as well. But all I hope for is a status quo. No change. Stability is nice

I don’t think I’ll ever be able to sum up all the emotions I’m feeling in one post and relax, I don’t intend to write a second post on this. All I wanted to do was put my emotions and rather on a broader outlook, almost every Mumbaikar who is leaving Bombay ‘s feelings into a post, because I understand how hard it is to articulate them.

The heart is a fickle thing and it hates change. But at the end of the day, the clock ticks on, the date changes, the world sleeps and awakes anew, and so shall I, with a hope, and only that hope to lead me on.

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Aazadiyan:A Look At Life

NOTE:This is guest blog post I wrote for Nelton D’Souza’s blog Just A Minute Here’s the link to the post http://justamin.blogspot.in/2013/01/aazadiyana-look-at-life.html Also,I recommend you read these posts as well : It’s Okay To Be Confused, Debugging Life and Debugging Life(Rebooted)

Something which all of us acknowledge is the presence of the nagging voice in our hearts. It’s the voice which tells us what we really want, what we are or what we have become. It’s that tiny little poke which reminds us how we have somehow screwed up life and we should “un-screw” it. One of the common commands it issues is to break free and change everything. Call it whatever you want, I call it Aazadi.

Don’t mistake me for the colloquial English synonym “freedom”. To me Aazadi expresses much more than freedom. It reflects the pride of achieving our dream, cherishing our passion and our inexpressible joy at doing all of that. Someone finds solace in snapping pictures of animals while someone loves to play the drums. Someone loves writing poems while on the flip side, some find sadistic pleasure in being a critic. My point is that everyone has his or her own forte and guilty pleasures. But not everyone gets to do that. Some bow down to the pressure of economic troubles and some to social ridicule. Some are scared by the magnitude to scale and some have plainly lost hope.Some,like Santiago are still searching for their Alchemist while some are being their own.

It’s a funny thing how many people claim passion to be hokum,dismissing it as lore.I pity them because they don’t know the feeling  of true happiness. I’m on the path of achieving my own dream, and the rush,the feel,the emotions,the passion and the pure unadulterated exhilaration is simply unmatchable.
People ask me with awestruck faces “You’re 17 and you think you know your passion and your dreams?Yeah right!”. I tell them this: Dreams don’t have age,nor does your passion or happiness. As to how I stumbled on to my Philosopher’s stone, it was easy. Just think and ponder over this question: “What would you do if money didn’t matter?” and you’ll find the answer. 
To all those who still believe their thoughts and their dreams are entangled and chained in shackles, I quote my favourite song
Pairon ki bediyan khwabon ko baandhe nahi re, kabhi nahi re
Mitti ki parton ko nanne se ankur bhi cheeray, dheere dheere
Iraade hare hare, jinke seeno mein ghar kare
Woh dil ki sune kare na darre, na darre

Subah ki kirno ko rokein jo salaakhein hai kahan
Jo khayalon pe pehre daale woh aankhein hai kahan
Par khulne ki deri hai parinde udh ke choomenge
Aasman aasman aasman



Dream and dream on friends 🙂

The epitome of freedom

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