Last post from Mumbai..
"Bombay is beautiful, not for its buildings for most of them hide squalor, poverty and dirt; not for its wealth for most of it is derived from the blood of the masses; but for its world renowned generosity. Bombay's charity has covered a multitude of her sins. She has enabled India to keep her promises."

- MK Gandhi, Young India, 1969

I've spent a little over two decades on this planet and have seen and lived in a fair number of places on it...but Bombay (I prefer the old name) has something special about it. It is by far the dirtiest city I've lived in and has the poorest infrastructure..The local train system is perhaps the best in this country, but it makes a poor lifeline for this city of 16+ million (Try getting off at Dadar, IInd class, at peak hour - I had my first experience of a mob and came off with a bruised ego and limb!).

No, this is NOT another ode to the city's undaunted 'spirit'...I'm frankly as annoyed as the average Bambaiya on hearing this cliche..also, as a writer, cliches bore me. But to borrow the TOI's often used peg..it is indeed a 'city of angels'..No..the bhajji walla is not a demi-god, but somehow I've witnessed many more acts of kindness on its streets than anywhere around the world. Random strangers have helped me without an ulterior motive and I've learnt to become more trusting..I'm safe in Mumbai and when I head home from work at 10pm..I don't fear for my life. You see, being a girl-woman in our country of 'goddess-worshippers' isn't such a great thing..and the capital, where I'm heading next, has the rather sickening moniker - "rape-capital". So yes..I'll really miss this place and all the friends I made here - people I met on the train, while on my way to work; the friends I made in school and college here and really..I'll just miss that something about this place - the walks at Jogger's, along Carter's, along the rare, tree-lined backlanes of Dadar..I'll miss the 'other' grand old lady at Bori Bunder..along DN road...my temporary workplace..and its wonderful office space..the local pav bhajji and vada pav..oh God..it's getting a bit tiring to type out everything and this is begining to sound like those God-awful acceptance speeches at the awards..

I think, to add my two cents worth of explanation to Bapu's verses on Mumbai - this city is like the immortal muse, the soul mate, who may not be the dandiest person around..indeed his/ her face may appear ugly to most..but scratch the surface and the bruised soul reveals a heart of gold. Like 'hope' at the bottom of Pandora's box..adieu..