It was my first visit to Mumbai. As expected the city was not sleeping. There is always a feeling of rush and urgency. People are rocketing towards something. Not in rockets but taxis. Everybody has a story to speak of. Everyone has an opinion, different opinion. It is very unlike Delhi. The comparison cannot and should not be made. Mumbai has an element of bluntness- kiddhar jaane ka…to the point, terse expression. Beech beech mein there are beaches, littered and crowded. The sea waves touch both, the littered crowd and the crowded litter. They are relaxing. It feels good when they moist your feet.

Each person has a different fashion statement. People do not copy. They are dressed with a purpose. And still, each one has his own charm, positive/negative. Both are appealing. There is love. Different forms of love. Love for food, love for drinks and love for the lips which kiss glasses. Lip service is less than common.

There are dreams…there are dreamers. There is artificialness or maybe developed social behaviour. Men and women throng the streets. We have breeds too. There are big people, small people. And each one will bark, has to bark; sometimes forced to bark. But above all are wishes and materialistic desires and below is the stench from the gutter. The local train is a mini world itself. Correction, it is mini India- overcrowded. Gujus are doing a wonderful business. Each one can write a book on ‘How to save Money?’ Audis and I-phones are common. Unlike the big mansions we have pigeon holes. The eagles live at the top of the towers. Their rooms are decorated and feathered with the best cushions. Lack of space concentrates luxury. High rise buildings make you feel small and then again when you climb them, you feel at the top of the world.

The financial capital houses the poorest of slums. There is hunger for money. There is no money for hunger. It is admitted and denied openly. People talk of crores. No, they don’t hush their voices. There is a sense of pride. Autos -lots of them. Cutting chai served at many tea outlets. Terminal 2 has been revamped of late. The welcome note says-Aamchi Mumbai is now Tumchi Mumbai. Is it?

There is cosmopolitanism. Busyness and business go hand in hand. People are friendly, but no one cares about you in the crowd. The terrorist attack has wounded Taj’s pride. Gateway of India reminds that India had been infiltrated and will be infiltrated time and again. Security as a concern has risen. There is fear in the public but pigeons still peck in peace.

We have malls and eateries. We have stars and stardom. There are budding stars too, wanting to be big. Oshiwara and Vile Parle are full of them. Mumbai they say is the city of dreams. People dream in art galleries and photo studios. They pray in Haji Ali and play in the Oval ground. While others, still wait in the line to get admission to Mumbai University. Failure, success, disappointment, happiness are all floating in the air. Waves carry waste in a similar fashion…up and down. Hope is there like the ships and boats at the horizon. It doesn’t let you drown.