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.
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.
Me: Yes…it was a joke on your status -. –
Me: Oh womaniya #facepalm
XYZ: Annoying song hai
Me: Toh aap pagal hain
Me: Itni khushi?
XYZ: I need a pep talk
XYZ: For studying
Me: In a moment
Me: Okay hear up
Our life, right now, stands at the same precipice where the architect’s design stood before being constructed. Like the guy, we have plans to build the most awesome, kickass library like life for ourselves but it is at this crucial time that we should not fail to take into account the weight of the books. Our boards may seem dull, and essentially symbolic. But they are a stamp that’ll last all our life. It’s not that they matter a lot. Au contraire, they matter a very tiny bit. But do what you may, you can’t change the fact that they do matter. So it’s time we rework our design and add the weight of the books, one by one, however long it may take and then build our building. Someday in the future, when you add thousands of more books, you’ll be confident enough to proudly say with a grin on your face “This building ain’t gonna fall”
Kripya apne Laptop ko band Karen aur Textbooks ko padhna shuru Karen.The Standing Coin padhne ke liye dhanyavad.Aasha hai aapki aankhon ka safar aaram dayak raha hoga aur aap humare blog ko phir padenge.
The woods are lovely, dark, and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
Interestingly, the phrase “school memories” brings back an overwhelming number of passing moments like a flash of lightning. As I look back, I laugh at our non coherent hate for school life and our continuously dreams of finally “growing up”. But today, nearly a year after school has ended; I came to realize that adults were actually right. We never fully appreciated what we had during our school life and unfortunately it’s too late now. To this day, when I sit by the window sill with a cup of coffee in my hand, gazing at into the horizon, I just have one thought in my mind.
” I would do literally anything to have just one more day of school again. A blunt gala of six hours where me and my friends, in our school uniform, listening to the teacher while laughing at her at the same time, fighting for the last bits of “pao bhaji” that we bought from the canteen at Rs.2 per head”
Ah, the bliss! Who says heaven doesn’t exist? I had the privilege of spending 10 years there and if I could, I would live it all over again. Modifying my favourite line from Khaled Hosseni’s The Kite Runner, “For SCHOOL, a thousand times over”
Life is an extraordinary fairy tale with its own twists and turns which may lead us to the beautiful wide windows of happiness or to the gallows of sadness and depression. We may be dipped into the hot scalding oils of anger and invariable revenge but we may also be thrown into the limitless sky of unyielding joy. Still, there are numerous times when we feel ki kaash life was like an iPod; bundled with its own play, pause, fast forward and rewind buttons. Just a small of any of them could control time, where in everything was in our hands and still under control. But unfortunately this concept shall always remain a fantasy (unless Dr. Sheldon Cooper succeeds).
So at such unpredictable moments, what do we do? Do we give up and lose hope? no we stand up, throw a few punches at life and say,” you can’t beat me punk!” I know it is easy to say so and damn tough to apply and follow. Recently I myself went throw one of such moments and I admitted defeat. But as I recover, I have learnt the importance of being in control of ourselves. A simple mantra to do this was once told to me by a friend and later on by my parents. It goes like this: “In life, you will always come across a number of hurdles which will deter your vision of your goal; but don’t lose hope and carry on with your life because your manzil will not be as far from you as it seems.” And believe me when I say, achieving that one dream which you have always pined for is worth the entire wait and hurdles in the world.