Monday, September 27, 2010

once upon a time in mumbai

Hi guys,
Whenever I talk to anyone, my love to the city of Mumbai just bursts out from my heart. I just won't care to whom I'm talking to. For some Bangalore is the best, for some Delhi,and some Hyderabad, but for me it is always my aamchi Mumbai. It is there where my crucial diversion of life occurred, it is there where I started my career, it is the city which taught me how to dream. So, in many ways it is really important for me. But the love for the city is not because of all these things. During my childhood I never liked Mumbai for its appalling name in regard to the underworld and being the most dangerous place. But one single incident inverted my attitude towards the city. Let me share that with you.
It was in January 2006, when the most atrocious thing happened in my life. I was a student at CUSAT during those days. It had broken me completely; even the minute hope of good life was vanished. I was to reach Mumbai urgently. I cannot lose attendance as I fear of shortage and may risk having more supplies in my arsenal. So, the only option left was to transit via flight. I booked the ticket, I didn't know any other flight company other than Jet airways cos I had travelled in that long back when i was a child. The ticket was 6000rs one side. Yes, it was pretty very expensive. The family had a serious credit crunch faced, and the sad face of economic depression was visible at my mother's paycheck.
I lost the hope of survival, yes it was almost sure something is ending up harshly. My faith in god had already disappeared.
After booking the ticket I had no money to go to airport. Maybe some 500 rs or something was that I had. If I catch a taxi that will be almost 300, and then I will be left with just 200 rs. I requested a lot of people, who had bike to drop me at the airport, but no one was ready. More reasons to blame god, I thought. Finally I got a bike, thanks to JK, and now I need a driver who could drop me at the airport. This time Rakri came into picture. My good rapport with these people helped me, otherwise I’d had done with because even my closest friends didn’t wanted to help me. Rakri wanted a pack cigarette in return, I until now I failed to give him. Also, he is such a good friend that he never asked me.
Then I got down at the Mumbai airport. No idea where to go, I called a family friend to get to know the path. I was asked to reach nearest railway station, that is Vile Parle and catch a train to Church Gate. No idea how to get there. At last, I got a taxi to Vile Parle. He told it is very far and it will cost me 100 bucks. Again no idea, I told OK. He took me to the station in say 5 minutes. I totally freaked out, as I expected some like 10 km from the airport. I started arguing with the taxi driver. My first argument in Hindi(hehe)..
I freaked out again, as none concerned the fight going on, all just gave a glimpse and continued with what they were doing. I had no other option than to give him 100 bucks. One more reason to blame god.
All of a sudden out of nowhere, a traffic policeman jumped towards the taxi. He was short, thin, and dark with a big "marathi" cooling glass. He asked me what the problem was. I explained him the situation. He asked me to get into car along with him and ordered (yes it was) driver to take the vehicle to the police station. The driver was literally crying out of fear, and finally he left with only 20 rs.
The Traffic police man told me this, as I thanked him, "kabhee gabraao nahee, hum log tumhaare seva karne ke liye hee baita hai." It was the first time I was to deal with the police and it gave me confidence over the complete police dept of the country. A dim light of hope started popping up inside me right that second. The trust to god was replaced by trust to humanity. I suddenly started feeling everything is going to be fine. Every bad thing in my life will reverse back. That single incident brought alacrity to live.
When I turn back now, I find the ways I came through very acrid, but the flames of hope which this simple traffic police man had ignited in me still keeps me from breaking down at atrocities.
Whenever I feel bad, I think of Bombay, and this sentence comes up,"kabhee gabraao nahee, hum log tumhaare seva karne ke liye hee baita hai." And I'm then starting afresh to face the world with a reason to love life, humanity and Mumbai....