Once there was Bombay



When I first went to Bombay
(it wasn't Mumbai then),
as a teenager for a holiday,
I felt it was a different country.
My hometown,
was conservative, didn't have coffee shops, restaurants,
discos and had only prohibition.
Bombay
seemed so open, Marathi Manus so friendly,
and more than anything else was a fun place.

Once,
when I was taken to the
Taj Hotel at the Gateway,
I felt I had died and gone to heaven.



There was a disco, the arty crowd and minor film stars
mingled easily with hicks like me.
It was the very first disco
I had ever been to.

A few years later,
I traveled frequently on official tours to Bombay.
As Mumbaikars,
I spoke fluent Marathi
and
Bombay Hindi this helped me to enjoy fully.



I remember
thinking that this is possible only in Bombay.
If you are not very rich,
life is not particularly comfortable in Mumbai.



You can afford housing only in the suburbs,
travel a long distance in crowded local trains and buses.
But
Mumbai was safe.


The horror of what is happened
at the
Taj and Oberoi
is particularly heart breaking for me.

My connection with the city stayed alive
because of my frequent trips there.
The Newspapers, Magazines & TV Channels
like Mumbai,
was a melting pot.
People from all parts of the country worked there.
Nobody thought about the divisions.
Most of us loved the city, loved our jobs,
loved the tension and concentrated on delivering results.
The city is so mediasavvy.



You didn't have to use influence.
It was such a professional city.
Nobody bothered about your background,
where you came from,
or
who your parents were.
You were what you were.
Truly.

The first time
I felt a change in my visit, after the
Babri Masjid Demolution.



My Muslim friends
suddenly withdrew into themselves.
It didn't make any difference to our relationship.
But
they started thinking more seriously about their religion,
their future, and their children's future.

Some friends
who have never done that before
started fasting during Ramzan.
Soon after,
came the Bombay blasts
and then the retaliatory attacks
when the Shiv Sena went on a rampage.



Suddenly
there was the Hindu-Muslim divide.
Hindu friends
became protective of their Muslim colleagues.
Muslim friends became slightly suspicious.

As it is repeated ad nauseam,
Mumbai is resilient.

As though it had a choice.
In 2006,
there were the serial blasts
in the Mumbai suburban trains,
the lifeline of the city.
It happened on a rainy dark evening
when hard working professionals were returning home.



The commuters
are a community by themselves.
As they spend such long hours in the trains,
they make friends,
save sitting places for others,
form singing groups, share snacks,
and make life as comfortable as possible.
Even after that particular horror,
Mumbai did go back to normal,
picked itself together, and went back to business.
But
then politics has started rearing its ugly head ever so often in Mumbai.
The Malegaon blasts,
the Marathi manoos campaign,
all ruining the spirit of Mumbai.

How much beating can the city take?
The monsters
who are behind this attack
seem to understand very well that
if
they break Mumbai,
they break India.



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