Typed on November 26, 2009:
Last year, on this very day, I was headed back to Mumbai post accepting a job offer in Delhi, Noida to be more precise. The previous night I remember watching on TV (in the days when I used to watch telly), bullets flying around at Leo’s in Colaba. I presumed it was a gangbang and drifted off to slumber-land. I woke up to an SMS, which conveyed concern and a sense of urgency from dad; Mumbai seemed to be burning.
My new boss texted to ask if I was alright, and en route to Mumbai. My friend, the Slug asked me to SOS if I could not find transport at the airport. The deafening silence at the a deserted domestic terminal in Mumbai, made this honourary Mumbaikar, very queasy. I headed to the Slug’s house and we watched in wonder and horror, as the gory events of 26/11 unfolding at the Taj Mahal Hotel in Colaba.
Shobha De was ranting (like a banshee) with fury to Barkha Dutt, about politicians from opposing parties travelling on the same flight, while the latter seemed impressed by this unlikely feat (a la such a national sacrifice!). Though I must admit, De was saying what should have been said, about politicians and their little tawdry tricks.
Narendra Modi arrived in Mumbai, and was posing tall in front of a TV camera. A man positioned himself (unknowingly) between the minister and the viewfinder, and a split second later, NM shoved the unsuspecting bloke out of the way! Comical. Akin to swatting a fly.
26/ 11 now seems light years, away. I no longer live in Mumbai, something I thought unimaginable a little over a year back. I resided for eight months in Noida, which for me is like the urbane wilderness. It’s quiet, dull, and what I disliked most is the lack of any cultural activity in this allegedly developed town.
I don’t know how eight months went by, and even though I lived there, I wasn’t really living. As I walked the streets, I was constantly looking over my shoulder to see who was observing me and what cars were approaching dangerously close. Though I must dmit, there were no “incidents”.
And yet, I don’t regret the experience, because I learned to appreciate the simple, joyous things in life. Like being able to stroll in broad day light, in a pair or shorts. Or stepping out at 12 am, to gab with a friend over a cup of coffee. And not having to travel (on an average) for four hours a day for a job I thoroughly detest.
Ahhh…life is good. Touch wood.
written with alot of passion