~*~ Mumbai - The Most Resilent City ~*~. Review on Mumbai

This city is unique and very resilent, she has seen many good and bad times. The best thing is whatever happens, this city always bounces back. I pray to God to protect this city always.

Forty years back when I came into existence on this planet, Mumbai was the chosen place for me. This beautiful city known for her warmth and welcoming nature embraced me warmly into her folds. This is place where I breathed my first breathe and I want this to be the place when I breathe my last.

This is the place on whose roads I learnt to walk and run, cycled on smooth and pot-holed roads. The beach where I learned to appreciate the bounty of nature, collected the treasure(lovely shells) found on sand that was thrown out of sea. Learned to praise the colourful paintings of nature (sunset and sunrise), the greenery that resulted in developing my passion for Environment.

For some it is Financial Capital , for some it is State Capital, for me it is simply home. This is a city which means a lot to me , the very core of my existence.  I simply cannot survive anywhere else, I have stayed in Bangalore(It was like my second home and I do have fond memories of that sweet place) twice for few months and all my vacations for several years but I was like fish out of water.  I went to Lagos but returned back to Mumbai like her prodigal daughter not once but twice,  both times after one month. Now I have stopped trying to live anywhere else.

The beautiful buildings standing side by side the uglier ones, the taller ones near the shorter, the newer ones besides the older ones. In last few years numerous buildings have come up jarring the horizon and the concretization of it into a concrete jungle is in full swing. The city is bursting at seams and heavy toll is taking on her infrastructure.

Many people have arrived in this city with dreams in their eyes, many have risen to top positions yet many of them are struggling to reach there. This city has been a melting pot of people belonging to different cultures and religions. People representing various areas of the country can be found here. People have always tried to live here harmoniously but unfortunately some elements are trying to tear this very fabric of the city.

I remember some of the situations where the spirit and the unity of the people belonging to this city has been tested but they always win with flying colours. I remember very vaguely, I must have been around four years old, suddenly saw people rushing with sticks and yelling. My sister snatched the glass of juice from my hand and dumped it on the counter, pulled me up from my seat and ran for home. This was the Shiv Sena rioting. (don’t remember for what).

The next major incident which changed my life forever, I remember was the Dec ‘92/ Jan’93 riots in Mumbai. It was the time when human life became worthless, hundreds and thousands of people died a death worse than an animal. It was 7th Dec, the morning bright and shiny, nothing different from routine, it was a day I was waiting eagerly for my visit to my gynecologist. I set off with my sister to go to the hospital which was barely took ten minutes to reach. Just after five minutes, I saw a small crowd running in the opposite, something whizzed past me then I heard a plop sound,( I am a huge fan of Robert Ludlum) immediately my sharp reflexes alerted me. I pulled my sister into a building and went to the home of someone we knew. I peeked out through their window, what I saw was a horrible scene, the police shooting indiscriminately at the crowd and tear gas was also opened to disperse the crowd.

All this excitement was not good for my baby, I was rushed to the hospital, the doctor was not happy with my situation(Even doctors are apprehensive about babies being born in eighth month). I was put on drip to prevent me from going into labour. In the evening, I found everyone subdued at the hospital, it gave me an eerie feeling. The next day’s newspapers were hidden from me, inspite of asking several times, I was not given one to read. In the evening one of the attendants was so sick of my pestering that she brought one urdu newspaper and gave it to me and gave me a cunning smile.( she knew I went to a Convent school which was only two mins walk from the hospital) I took it and right bang on the first page was the dreadful news, I had lost my best buddy, he was killed from a bullet fired by police, on his way to the office. A person who would never kill a fly, full of life, always laughing no matter what problems came into life. My sister just turned and saw my facial expressions changing, she saw the paper in my hand. All this happened so fast that my sister couldn’t do anything but snatch the paper from my hand. I was too numb even to cry, I could still hear his voice ringing in my ears, just two days back he was teasing me as he found me eating candy floss. I didn’t know whether to rejoice as my baby was safe or mourn my buddy. I immediately thought of his mother, how she must must be feeling to her only son, his new bride, who was six months pregnant, the baby who would never know the touch of his father.

These riots were politically motivated behind the garb of religion. I am sure you all must have read about the details. In January ’93, mostly slum areas and the areas where lower middle class resided were targeted. It was said that this happened due to the nexus of Politicians and Builders. God knows what was the actual truth? Many people whom I knew died, neighbours belonging to different religions felt unsafe with each other, these were the same people who were the support system of each other in times of needs, who celebrated each other’s festivals, who were there to bless each other’s children on various occasions. Thankfully all those doubts were temporary. They helped one another, provided security to them in their homes, provided food and help in everyway that they could.

After this followed the 12th March ‘1993 bombings, God knows what was the need for it? Many innocent people died, the culprits went scot free. If these people wanted to take revenge for atrocities committed on Muslims, then why did they plant bombs in areas where there was a majority Muslim population. No one dared to ask questions of this kind? My hubby was to visit Oberoi hotel that day, fortunately he had sudden change in his schedule and his colleague went there in his place. His colleague had a narrow escape that day, he had left the premises just ten minutes before the blasts occurred. We were not aware that he had already left the premises and until we got a call from him we were on tenterhooks.