One Love

Here I am for the first time blogging ( Though i don't have an iota of a hint as to what it means). It's a great debate raging on in my mind over the topic which I should blog.

But then there lies a mugshot of Nariman point on my desktop and the towering skyline of Walkeshwar, what more could be a more tempting topic especially for a guy like me who has spent hours ( or rather days if you would quantify it) at Nariman point, the diadem in Mumbai's Crown. Thus I come to my first ( and indeed the only one) love ... The great city of Bombay ( not Mumbai as they name it)

From where to begin, it's not easy to define a culture or a religion which Bombay is. Even now after spending a major chunk of my life, I am beginning to pick up the traces of the euphoria that Bombay symbolizes.

Well its convenient to start with the local trains of Bombay, those thudding lifelines of Bombay which are such vital veins of the City, there's always a hue and cry about the stuffing that makes you feel as a salaami sandwich inside the trains, But I have always laughed it off, Indeed it was nothing short of a war as I used to attack the incoming Thane Fast local onto the Dadar Platform 8.40 pm as I hushed up amidst a sea of equally able bodied guys to have a toe hold in that metal car which speeded me home in 25 mins. It was an ecstacy when I used to get a seat ( rarely though).

Those were the days which made Bombay evolve in my psyche, the agrawal days and the IIT JEE days as I have christened them. Which called me frequently to Dadar. Dadar Station arena was nothing sort of a dumping ground with Hawkers shrouding the four lane Senapati Bapat Marg into a meagre Gully. The stench from the Rotting vegetables on the road was nothing short of phenomenal and was compunded by the flyover which spanned from the west to the eastern part of Dadar so vitally amalgamating the two halves. The flyover was habitat to a species of chilli, onion and garlic vendors who added to the aroma so liberally offered by the rotten vegetables. As we approched the vivekananda building ( was that it's name?) it was a relief as we snugged into our IIT JEE class ( Boy! That was the biggest farce of them all).

Prof Munshi ( yes that was him)( more will be posted regarding him as he is not a personality to be sidelined so soon) used to take our chemistry classes, which were nothing short of a shorthand wrtiting session as he hummed away with a great gusto the writings which he used to procure on yellowed sheets of paper which might have been from the time of William. Further there were Prof Padia and Prof Vergehese who completed the single day class.( more to come on them as well)

Yet I fondly remember those days which have etched themselves into my identity and even more my sole. Even typing away these words I see myself hurrying at 7.15 pm ( the class used to be till 7.30 but for the merciful professor) to Dadar Platform no 5 to catch the 7.26 Thane Fast Local. It was nothing short of the Train Grande Vitesse for us as it sped me within 25 mins into Mulund Station from where I gratefully climbed up the bus home. Boy I miss those days.