Bombay in my soule!!!

I don't know why i'm saying this. I know that some of my friends will surely bully me for rapidly changing my opinion about this city... I mean why anyone will like such a city where you have to spend half of your awake day in a train. Where you have to live in a small bedroom with two more room mates. Wash your clothes, dishes, and clean your house all by yourself. You need to take care of yourself as the city is tough and there is no space for a little cry baby.  

The deeper you look the funnier this city appears to you. Its all the matter of time and observation that how will you like the city. After few days I realized that the city has developed its own code and works according to it. It’s altogether a different code where public holidays are Moterman Strike, Auto Rickshaw Strike etc. Rain brings smile on the face of mumbaians. This is the only city where peoples get happy if it’s raining heavily as they will be able to have another holiday. Although they all know deep inside that they will need to work really hard the very next day to meet the deadlines.

But there are some deeper meanings to small little things in mumbai.
Mumbai will never leave u alone as there is no space for it. Everywhere you will find someone and that the best part about it. You will find that it’s so easy to talk to anyone and everyone is so approachable. Mumabi teach you equality at various places like share auto, marine drive and the best of all mumbai local. You can find a real rich textile mill owner, CEO of any company and if you are lucky you may find the person to whom your boss is reporting. But in train they all are equal. You can chat with them and discuss movies with them. Also even though everyone looks as they don't care, and you might think that nobody is watching you, the moment you need some help you will find some smiling face to grab your hand and take you out of the mess. Your roommates will wait for you to come and have dinner with them. Your boss will organize a farewell party and make sure he is able to come after a full day long meeting. Your colleagues from work will be your really good friends in not more than 3 days. That’s the magic which you won’t find anywhere else. That’s Mumbai!!! And now I feel that there is a part of it in my sole.

Living a life of Bug...

I'm living a life of Bug... Following the same track everyday... Always wished to go off track and observe things closely which I’m only able to see from distance... but this bug life doesn't allow me that... I'm always in a hurry... Hurry to work, to eat, to chat with friends, to earn, to live and in a hurry to get OLD... and when I’ll get old what will I’ll be left with? The money with which I don’t want to buy anything, the memories which I wish I could have created by going off track, the name of the girl who could have been with me if I wud have tried... I still remember the days of my childhood when I use to walk along with river to find the starting point of river, or the mountain where the sun sets... but I don’t remember the first time I got pocket money.... So why money is so important... why can’t we live without it?

Don't be Fooled!!!

Don't be fooled by me. Don't be fooled by the mask I wear. For I wear a mask, i wear a thousand masks, masks that I’m afraid to take off and none of them is me. Pretending is an art that is second nature with me, but please don’t be fooled.

….. I give the impression that I’m secure, that all is sunny and unruffled with me, within as well as without; that confidence is my name and coolness is my game; that the waters are calm and that I’m in command and I need no one. But don’t believe it; please don’t.

I idly chatter with you in suave tones of surface talk. I tell you everything that’s really nothing, nothing of what’s crying within me. So when I’m going through my routine, don’t be fooled by what I’m saying. Please listen carefully and try to hear what I’m not saying; what I’d like to be able to say; what for survival, I need to say but I can’t say. I dislike the hiding. Honestly I do. I dislike the superficial phony games I’m playing.

I’d really like to be genuine, spontaneous, and me, but you have to help me by holding out your hand, even when that’s the last thing I seem to want or need.

Each time you are kind and gentle and encouraging, each time you try to understand because you really care, my heart begins to grow wings. Very small wings. Very feeble wings. But wings. With your sensitivity and sympathy and your power of understanding, I can make it. You can breath life into me. It will not be easy for you. A long conviction of worthlessness builds strong walls. But love is stronger then strong walls, and therein lies my hope. Please try to beat down those walls with firm hands, but with gentle hands, for a child is very sensitive and I’m a child.