Amchi Mumbai

I came to Mumbai, fresh out of college, starting out to work. I loved Mumbai. The city seemed so young and vibrant. Even the oldies never felt it beneath them to run for buses and trains. Everybody has their hands full and you are least of their concerns. Gives you the anonymity and freedom from probing looks you get in smaller cities. The town side of Mumbai, old and dull buildings of Colaba and Fort had a charm of an era gone by.

People come in all shapes and sizes and Hindi that was colourful and from the heart.
Ek cutting is a ek chai.
Jadia, kaisa hai? had nothing to do with winters
Kandha batata to hindi hai.
Even a loud kissing sound (Mmpcch) on the street was a call to stop an auto. What is eve-teasing then?
One of my colleagues called me Poppat, turned out it meant a parrot…..mainly because my uniform was green.
First time ever someone called me a bhaiyan. I was stung. Not used to being called names based on my state. I retaliated with a “Gijju!!” but failed to have any effect on my tormentor. Its everyday talk.
Koi vanda nai. No problem!!

And then there was the local train. The times I traveled during the peak hours opened my eyes to a whole new world of train friends and seat bookings. Booking your seat is the art of asking the right person for the seat before they get off. Fourth seat at Mumbai central and then window seat at Bandra. Complicated stuff.
Late evenings when there was space around you could eat Bhel puri and sev puri in train!! Took some time to get used to the vada pav, but then I realized I was always missing the lehssun ki chatni for the complete experience. Once I got hooked there was no going back.