The Undying Spirit...

My day to day schedule - Get up at 6 a.m. Get ready for office. Catch the 9.25 a.m. local train from Thane railway station. Reach office by 9.50 a.m. Log into my system. Check mails. Reply to mails. Have breakfast at the canteen at 10.30 a.m. Get back to my desk at 11 a.m. Work for an hour and half. Ping friends for lunch. 1 p.m. go for lunch. 2.30 p.m finish lunch, chatting and a walk. Get back to the desk and again chat on the instant messenger. Do some work for another 2 hours. Go for snacks at 4.30 p.m. Get back to desk by 5.30. p.m. Work for an hour and half. 7 p.m. log out of the system. Catch the 7.30 p.m. local back to Thane station. Reach home by 9 p.m. Cook and eat dinner. Browse through T.V. channels. Sleep by 11 p.m.

The next day carry on the same thing. Except for one little detail changed. This day instead of the 9.25 a.m. local train, I will reach early and catch the 9.15 a.m. train. By the time I reach office and check my inbox for mails, hundereds of people are injured and many are feared dead due to a bomb blast at the Thane railway station. Because today was my lucky day I reached the station a little bit early. Caught an early train. But not everybody is this lucky. And nobody deserves the fate of dying a painful death at the hands of unwanted terrorists. Among those who died was a simple office-goer going to Vikhroli who was expecting a raise in his salary so that he could pay off his housing loan. A woman with two children, going to drop them off at there school in Bhandup. A worker going to Nahur, who was the sole bread winner of his family of 5. Three young college students going to Ghatkopar, who had dreams and hopes of the years to come, of the bright future they had. 4 friends going to VT, who would look forward to each day of meeting each other on one of the train's lady's dabba. All of these people, who had a very normal life, like me. Like clockwork had their schedules set. Who had no idea, that this is it for them.

This was just a fictional story with a fictional premise of a lucky human being whose life was spared because he/she was not at the wrong place at the wrong time. Question: Has our life just changed into a game of chance? That when we leave home for work from now on, we should say "Honey!! See you in the evening, that is if I am alive!!"... Sitting thousands of miles away from friends and family, I was scared to death and worried as hell for the safety of my loved ones. But what about those many people who lost their loved ones? It will be wrong if I said that we don't do enough. Yes we are doing just enough... But in the current situation "enough" is not enough!! When the government chosen by us has failed us, how can we help each other is the main question. We have to be alert, more alert than before, maybe bordering on paranoia. We have to watch each and everyone of us. There are over 20 million people in Mumbai. If we want we can do anything. If we come together we are capable of anything. Even if just a 10 percent of this population decides that this is enough. We cant take it anymore. Nobody will ever be able to touch us. But a tiny issue remains. Who has the time for this? I am busy making a living for myself, taking care of my own family. I don't have time for playing I-spy with terrorism. The truth remains, we are playing I-spy everyday. Not with terrorism, but with death.

So before leaving home for work, calculate... What are my chances for dying today!!?? Either resign to this fate or do something about it. Either keep your eyes, ears and mouth shut and move on or be alert and take steps to be safe. Or just keep playing the game of chances with death. Because you might win today but what about tomorrow?!! We don't have many choices you see.

Last but not the least in the name of the undying spirit of my city, I console myself for those innocent lives lost in this meaningless unwanted war of terrorism. And as I condemn the corrupt bureaucracy of the Government of India and Maharashtra, I salute the people of Mumbai, for enduring yet another blow.

Aaahh Mumbaii...

I remember the time when I was told that I would be moving to Mumbai for work. I was scared as hell and I really did not want to move to this city. I had my own reasons at that time. But being brought up in Delhi, I had presumed Bombay (or Mumbai) to be a big disappointment. I think that must have been because of all the "gyan" shared by our mentors at our training programme in Chennai. I specifically remember this guy telling me, "You should take each day as it comes in Bombay. As life can be very difficult at times and you might want to run away!!!" Well I might as well add that he was right for the first part. You have take each moment, each second of Bombay, as it comes. Because at times it comes as a shock, at times it is as mild as the sea breeze.
When I first landed in Bombay, what hit me the most was the humidity. The dampness of the air that hung around like a heavy curtain around you. I used to feel miserable at times, missing Delhi and its liveliness. And once the rains started, as much as I enjoyed the first few weeks, I started to detest the sight of those huge black ominous clouds AS IT JUST WONT STOP RAINING!!! All those washed undried laundry and 3 destroyed umbrellas. And rains in Bombay have a peculiar style. It wont drizzle ever you see. When it rains, its like the gods have unleashed their fury on us for something.
The first few months were so hard on me that I even considered quitting my job and going back home. But then, as everybody has to sometime or the other, I too succumbed to the mere beauty of all that was Bombay. The first moment was my first trip to Band Stand, Bandra. On a stormy day. August 5th, 2007. The rocky beach was at its best. The Bandra-Worli sea link was just coming up, so one could still see the skyline. It was amazing. One of the few days that I would remember forever (I am not that good with dates;)). The sea was so violent, it beat around the walls of the Bandra Fort like an angry monster. The wind was blowing so hard it could knock you over. That was the first time, I thought to myself, that Bombay IS beautiful. For what it is. Sheer natural beauty juxtaposed with the concrete jungle. The marvellous buildings. The historical names. For Bollywood. For the rich people and the poor. The welcoming sight of Gateway of India. The simplicity of life as we take each moment as it comes. I still miss my home, Delhi. But I miss Bombay like my own home.