It's been seven long years since I came to live in this crazy city. City of dreams, as many call it so. I never thought when I first learned that I'd be studying in Bombay that a city like this would grow on me. I didn't have the slightest inclination of what to expect. Of course, I had heard many stories. Crazy stories. Like you shouldn't wear jewellery on the train for fear of your ears or hands being cut off. Murders. The rains. Strangers who could be axe-murderers or kidnappers or worse, rapists. So much. I didn't think too much of it all.
My first year was the longest. I just moved into the hostel - this was the first time I was to actually live alone. That dawned upon me. It made me feel helpless, hate my parents for leaving me here and I was so upset. My first night at the hostel was a whole bunch of snot and sniffles as I cried silently under my blanket in my room. The days after that were different; each new, each teaching me something I never knew before. I met people. Good people. Bad people. The most I was influenced by and truly adored: Nandini Velho, Rubika Liyaqat. These two were my roommates and the two people from whom I learnt the most. I learnt to be independent, to do my own thing and somewhere down the line, I discovered me. Me, the shy girl in school, quiet with no real friends. I found that I had more to me than I ever thought. I loved my journal, my journal was my best friend in the hostel. I learned that I loved to write. I loved the arts. I loved travelling in the trains, I loved exploring the suburbs and areas in town. I loved who I was blossoming into. I grew proud of myself.
And all while that was happening, I fell in love with the city. The people were such an eclectic mix. I learned so much from each and every person that I encountered.
My seven years in Bombay have been crazy, eventful, sad and happy and definitely something I'd never like to easily forget. It taught me so much. I grew up and the city grew on me.
Much as now I feel the need to move elsewhere, to discover a new city and learn it all again, Bombay will always be my favourite city. There's nothing like it and once you've lived here, it becomes a part of you just as you become a part of it too.
Bombay, that's what it shall always be to me. Nothing more, nothing less.
It's home.
♥
My first year was the longest. I just moved into the hostel - this was the first time I was to actually live alone. That dawned upon me. It made me feel helpless, hate my parents for leaving me here and I was so upset. My first night at the hostel was a whole bunch of snot and sniffles as I cried silently under my blanket in my room. The days after that were different; each new, each teaching me something I never knew before. I met people. Good people. Bad people. The most I was influenced by and truly adored: Nandini Velho, Rubika Liyaqat. These two were my roommates and the two people from whom I learnt the most. I learnt to be independent, to do my own thing and somewhere down the line, I discovered me. Me, the shy girl in school, quiet with no real friends. I found that I had more to me than I ever thought. I loved my journal, my journal was my best friend in the hostel. I learned that I loved to write. I loved the arts. I loved travelling in the trains, I loved exploring the suburbs and areas in town. I loved who I was blossoming into. I grew proud of myself.
And all while that was happening, I fell in love with the city. The people were such an eclectic mix. I learned so much from each and every person that I encountered.
My seven years in Bombay have been crazy, eventful, sad and happy and definitely something I'd never like to easily forget. It taught me so much. I grew up and the city grew on me.
Much as now I feel the need to move elsewhere, to discover a new city and learn it all again, Bombay will always be my favourite city. There's nothing like it and once you've lived here, it becomes a part of you just as you become a part of it too.
Bombay, that's what it shall always be to me. Nothing more, nothing less.
It's home.
♥