The fast-paced life leaves you craving for more than 24 hours,
The Sun sets just as you begin to savor the Sun rise,
Dessert gets served before you gulp the starter.
The mayhem of local trains, the BEST buses, the local kaali peelis, the autorickshaws,
The railways carrying more than they were built to transport,
With the whiff of sweat in the air, trying to organize the chaos and to calm the pandemonium boiling after the inhumane hours of work.
The dreams in the eyes of the incalculable migrants,
The coffee shops and pavements budding with aspirations,
Proof that no college degree is mandatory to guarantee success conversion.
The photographer’s paradise at Gateway of India and the Queens Necklace,
The intellectuals drawn towards Rajabai Towers and Dalal Street,
The shopaholics save by bargaining at Fashion street and Colaba Causeway so that they can pay the surplus amount for the exorbitantly priced products at Palladium,
The lovers make their reservations on the parapets of Marine Drive, Bandstand and on the benches of Hanging Garden.
The foodies find their haven in every nook and cranny, (for everything else there is Swiggy, Scootsy and the Dabbawalas)
The food sprawled all over the place, finds its way up from the Gola in Chowpatty to a Cup of Coffee in the Sea Lounge at The Taj Mahal Palace Hotel,
It would be remiss of me to not dedicate a line to a plate of economically delectable Vada Pav.
The cold civil war persists between South Mumbai and the Suburbs,
Apparently, your address determines the degree of Snob you’re entitled to be,
The SoBo’s or the Townies eventually obtaining distinguished titles.
Mumbai is a city, true.
But more so, it’s an emotion,
The rent for occupancy; only a place in your heart.
If you are a citizen of the World, you must have had an encounter with Mumbai through your existence. Do leave a comment and share your snazzy moment.
(If you have not experienced Mumbai yet, I’m sure this blog post has planted the necessary thought.)