on different grounds..

..i’m in Mumbai right now….i haven’t been this state of India for about 2 decades now…it’s new to me…i’ve seen a couple of dozens of Bollywood movies (Bollywood is based in Mumbai)….i’ve heard all my dad and mum had to say about their lives here…i’ve seen the Gateway of India in magazines and newspapers, and read about Leapold cafe, Colaba, and Marine drive in Shantaram….that is what Bombay was for me…

I still have to see the places I mentioned above…but i’ve seen other parts…

and this is what it is…

it’s rich with stimulation for all my senses….it’s the smells of tea, sickly sweet freshly cooked sweets, and savories like pakodas and samosas and chaat, or fresh fruit, or lemonade stands , or sugarcane-juice stands…or flower shops…also odours, like open gutters, and public toilets (the kind, you don’t even have to step into before your urge to excrete anything magically vanishes…very effective i must say)…

and sights of people of all kinds, all religions, all dresses, and styles, traditional and western, different walks…slums, and fancy apartments, to massive broken down villas…victorian architectural monuments, blending in with artistic beautiful, mosques, and churches and temples…and alll that greenery..plus sights that you might either embrace for their reality, or avert your gaze for the same reason…slums on slums, filth right beside extremely breath-taking natural beauty, scrap yards in the open…

and the poor, in ragged colourful clothes, their offspring…beggers of all ages and sizes…singing, speaking, cursing…dust that easily accumulates…the bump on my skin that itches thanks to fucking mosquitos (hate those bastards)…

the touch of leaves, and flowers that you barely see where i come from..smooth marble on marble and rough rocks smoothed by the crashing of waves…

and the talkative people…everyone talks…some are friendly, some curse at you, some are over friendly because they’re having a good day, others might want to mug you (and if you’re chatty like me, you might want to know when to stop talking)…and how can i forgot the awesome rides on the rikshaw…love them, at least people are quiter then, because the sound of the engine, the wind blowing through door frames,with out doors, and the unnecessary yet funny honking of the traffic, don’t really provide  quite time to speak..colourful, bright shops selling fake brands, and sometimes real brands, and sometimes stolen, real brands…

and the streets, filled with all this info that is framed with the tiny little yellow leaves that fall along the pavements lined with trees as the wind blows..they just lift the road up…make it look dreamy while they rise with the wind that drifts in this february breeze and with the swooosh of vehicles passing by…

and speaking about vehicles…all the colourfully decorated trucks, with decorations hanging on the windshield and their behinds…and the cycles, and the black and yellow of cabs and the red of buses (double deckers included), the blue trains, and the awesome one i saw with doubly awesome graffiti on it.. and autos and scooters…all the scooters…i’d like to own one some day…

mumbai is rich….rich for those who like to open their senses to everything….

most places i go, the little things i see, and the bigger experiences i have…remind me of him…i need to force myself to not go overboard with buying little knickknacks for him, marking different points when for relevant and irrelevant reasons he popped into my mind…

and the friends who actually popped into my mind…whom i realized, have come to be, or were always important to me..and the pieces of my journey that i’d like to give to them…

and i now see how i’ll be when i actually set off to travel on my own will…and what i have to change in order to experience things more fully, and what ways i’ll need to equip myself mentally and physically…

and when it comes to the big things i see, and the little experiences i have i think of me, and my place in the world…and my relevance…and thoughts that i don’t want to get into right now..

oh and there’s plenty of time to think…when i finally do leave, it will also be a reminder of time when i was jobless for way too long (because i am again jobless, for not that long, but it feels like fucking eons), and my ass hurts because i don’t know where to move….

and it’ll be reminder of a time that truly marked a point i had reached…somewhere beyond the edge…the climatic chaos and the strange calm and incomprehensible emotions…where i new just how much i was willing to forgive and forget…where i stood in terms of maturity…what was clear and unclear for me….who all i was sure i would leave behind for now, who’s hand i would like to hold and learn about, and not only of what and who meant what to me…but also a time when after long i felt more clear about what others’ held behind their eyes…

it’s been a while since i’ve had such thoughts rush in..

it’ll be a reminder of a time when i had to again think a bit harder about what i’d have to do to spend my time, and turned to things i forgot about (that’s a positive negative)…

and shalom tv…oh god shalom tv….the 60 something year old lady who had lived 60 years, and could only amount to watching a tv channel that spoke about god, god and more god, and fed yummy ideas of christianity, the trinity and what not in all sorts of subtle and obvious ways, with piles of bullshit about why this and why that about humanity and what not…(yes im rambling now because i think they ramble endlessly),,,,no offence… but i got nothing against religions in general…but when they just dont shutup about it…it’s like having to sit through one Pitbull song after the other….oh look ‘pit’ ‘bull’…and bull shit…have “bull” in common…i guess they must be made for each other…sorry i was talking about the lady i stay with and her obsession with Shallom tv…

i still have time to spend here…but when this is over…when i see what’s left to be seen, and i can be back to get on with my life…something big would have moved within me…this time round, i hope i walk tall…

nah..i don’t hope…i’ll walk tall…

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