Bombay

I woke up today and my house was a mess. Aunty needed to cook rajma and there were no onions. Shreya was getting late for work. She was waiting for the upma to get cooked. I was strolling here and there unmindful of the time. I was getting late too. And hence I literally had to run to the stop to catch my bus. Every day I stand at the bus stop staring at the road and wait for the bus, 521 or 121. You never know when exactly will the bus come and hence it's always relieving to see it coming. There are protocols here too. There are two gates on the bus, one in the front and one at the back. You always enter the bus from the back gate. I didn't know this on my first day and hence entered the bus from the front gate causing a hassle. I wonder if someone noticed and laughed at me.

It's going to be a month now, I still don't know if I am settled into this routine though. The faces have all become familiar. They all come, put their earphones on, tilt their heads towards a side and sleep. In my not so good days, it feels like all of them are dead. Those are the days of existential questions too when life seems so monotonous that I wonder if all of us have worked our asses off to achieve this monotony. Some people call it routine; they like it. I don't really know if I am one of them.

I entered the bus and ran towards the empty seat. I don't get a seat every day so this might be the biggest achievement of my day. Conductor uncle was happy today. We shared a laugh when I finally took the station name right. Everyone on the bus knows him. I hear him chatting with people. They talk in Marathi though, so I don't really understand. I don't remember directions easily but it has been long enough to know that every day this bus passes through Chembur, Sion, Dadar and then Worli. I get down at Worli. Somewhere in between Matunga also comes. I guess. Dadar has the prettiest homes. Many of them are now covered in yellow flowers celebrating the arrival of Spring. It took me very long to notice all of this for in the initial days my eyes used to be glued to the screen. I hope and wish that I did not miss out on a lot.

The guy in front of me was reading Orwell's 1984. I was so tempted to talk to him. What would I have talked about though? 1984 was scary but these times in real are scarier. We could have talked about that. Anyway, I didn't have the courage to initiate a conversation. He got down at NC Kelkar Road, Dadar. It's silly of me to note down the details, but I feel wiser when I remember the name of the places. On my way, every day, I see a church and the Siddhivinayak temple too.

This is the first time in my 24-years of life when I am travelling every day for work. I leave home at eight in the morning and then come back at eight in the evening. In the evening, the bus takes longer because of traffic. I have never had this much time to just be, to watch people, to imagine having conversations with them. A year ago, I used to complain about how I have never travelled on a bus. A year ago, I was dying to come to Bombay and experience the life that I have grown up watching in a million of Hindi films. I am not going to romanticise the struggle. It's hard and there are no two ways about it. But there are still ways to make it better. Watching the spring flowers bloom in Dadar is much better than scrolling through Netflix and getting anxious and restless about what to watch. There is no comparison actually.

Had it not been for this, I would have never known Bombay the way I do now. I would have never known that from Worli, I can take a direct bus to Sassanian and then go to Marine Drive. I would have never known that Haji Ali is also nearby from here. It all might be silly but it feels so good to know these places now. To know Dadar and Worli. It feels blissful to navigate through the city on my own. I feel wiser.

People say that Bombay grows on you. I think it does. Slowly and steadily, but it does.