Mumbai? Now that sounds just lovely and I suspect it’s because I know absolutely nothing about it. I won’t pretend to even know a little about Mumbai. Sure, I could do some research, but I’d rather not. I’m quite happy with my idea of a Mumbai for now thanks: a totally alien destination, appealing almost entirely because it’s not where I am right now.
So yes, every now and then during this heavily regimented and strictly scheduled and overwhelmingly busy busy busy life I feel like I need to loosen my grips for just a while, to remind myself that I’m not in control of all of this — maybe take a trip somewhere, anywhere — my Mumbai.
Oh and then, I remember that, yes, on this earth there are millions of places to visit and see and learn from and be affected by but ultimately I’m still going to be myself, no matter where I go; this is my identity and it’s the only one I’ve got or will ever have. Sometimes I’m not proud of it; sometimes I’m too proud of it. Mostly, it’s a ghost in a bigger more complex machine, totally clueless, endlessly searching for a something and a somewhere else, my Mumbai.