Yeh Hai Bombai Meri Jaan............For Lakshmi :-}

Disclaimer: Brevity may be the soul of wit but wit is the sole intention of this blog. Therefore insults or injuries to any City, living or dead, is purely unintentional. I love my India in all its varied States. India is my country and all Indians (not all..hehehe) are my brothers and sisters. I love my country and I am proud of its rich and varied heritage. Jai MAHA Rashtra!!
Okay, I guess that’s about all. I don’t want to go overboard with all this jingoistic Disclaimerism.......:-}


Yeh Hai Bombai Meri Jaan (Then)
(Published in Mumbai Mirror- Aug 9th 2005)


‘Have patience’our friends said when we landed here from Hyderabad and stumbled and grumbled. ‘The city will soon grow on you’. It’s been five months and I’m still waiting.

The first thing that hit me about Mumbai was its distinct smell. There’s definitely something “fishy” about it. As soon as we moved into our house in Badhwar Park, my husband and I traced the stench around the house and looked for a dead rat. There was none. I spent the next few minutes vigorously brushing my dog. The stench still persisted. We soon realized that the malodorous culprit was nowhere within bounds but seeped in the very air. Since we could not brush up nature or embark on a treasure hunt through a sniffing spree, we gave up. And then, in a few days we found that the stench had lessened. Or had our olfactory nerves been toughened?

Our next challenge was space. I speak not of the cosmos or the universe but of the limitations of living right here on earth. That of course I blame entirely on the Railways- for spoiling us with Bungalows that have so much legroom that sometimes there is a room for every leg in the house. Naturally after that any apartment anywhere would feel ‘flat’. But we overcame that too, after scrutinising the double-storeyed slums of the overpopulated, space constricted Mumbai. In fact now our 4BHK flat in posh Colaba feels like a luxury. And with a view of the sea that many consider ‘awfully scenic’ it is an extravagance. That after the Tsunami, a sea view sometimes feels cynically ‘awe’full, is a different thing altogether.


As the normal monsoons continued, every black fabric inside the almirah turned white with mildew. The dals changed colour faster than a chameleon. Forget about leather, there was mould even on gold. My spick and span Golden retriever who earlier retrieved err…not gold but socks, now started retrieving fleas from the environs. And one fine day I was shocked to find fungus forming on the buttons of the remote control. It was now time to panic!

Could I now risk sitting at one place for longer than a minute? I doubted. So I went about my chores stoically, always flitting from place to place. Meanwhile, I waited for the city to finally grow on me. Before something else started to grow! All the time, though, there was a song on my lips - a golden oldie that I adore: ‘Aye dil hai mushkil jeena yahaan/ Zara hatke, zara bachke/ Yeh hai Bambai meri jaan’.


Yeh Hai Bombai Meri Jaan (Now).........as in exactly two years later, while we were still there...:-}



I never realized I would soon be writing a sequel to an earlier article of the same name. It has been two eventful years in Mumbai- a city that would perhaps make Forest Gump mutter- ‘My momma would compare this playce to a box of chocolaytes.’ Only instead of the chocolaty aroma, one gets to have a whiff of assorted smells. And even after two years and a hardened olfactory system, some of the smells continue to be ‘fishy’.

Just as we were recovering from the opulence of multi- storeyed buildings and the indigence of double- storeyed slums, the Terrible Torrential Tuesday happened. And then the train blast took place. Not only do I now revere space, I am also so acclimatized to the capricious clouds that if one fine day they burst and it started raining Gods, I would hardly be surprised. And of course, in the aftermath of the bomb blasts, I also got to see a spirit of the city that evaporated a little of my misgivings.

After eight years of being unavailable, my once sparkling Champagne is now a permanent home to non-paying, bloodsucking tenants called Fleas. Come on guys, even with the dearth of shelters, a dog can hardly qualify as a dwelling. Although now I take pride in the fact that he must be the ‘most wanted’ Golden Retriever in Colaba.

I no longer hear the golden sounds of silence either. But who cares? The disruptive chaos of honking horns and screeching tyres now deliciously meld into my dreams. On the contrary, if Nature suddenly started to coo, it would probably make for a blockbuster called ‘Sleepless in Colaba’.

The multitude of crowds that initially gave an impression of a perpetual rally-on-roads, now serve as a picturesque backdrop to a host of paintings entitled ‘Scenic Mumbai’. And living in Planet Bollywood, seeing stars even in broad daylight seems nothing out of the ordinary.

Now I have also developed a cure for the mould. The naphthalenes coexist with the wardrobe. And the dals, on sound advice from my kids, ‘Just Chill’ inside the fridge. If I had my way and if there was enough room in the fridge I would also put the remote control. And it has nothing to do with the fact that the World Cup is starting tomorrow. Hmmph!

Happy Anniversary, I tell myself. My two year warranty period of waiting for the city to grow on me is just about over. ‘So, do you like the place now? Do you still want to move?’ my friends ask.
Do I? The answer echoes in the refrains of the golden oldie that I still continue to hum. Only, the lyrics have kind of altered. And some lines are kind of forgotten.

‘Ey dil, hai hmmm hmmm, jeena yahan

Laa la la laa, hmm hmm..hm..hm…

Yeh hai Bambai meri jaan!

Jai Maharashtra!!