Ye hai bambai meri jaan- Part I

My first encounter with this city was like a teenage crush, a love at first sight. It was a two day visit at the break of monsoon. The first place that I wanted to visit was a sea shore. Though Mumbai is not known for its beaches, I had never seen one before and mere thought of watching the waves was exciting. And it did not disappoint me at all. The place I visited first was the gate way of India. It came with the twin benefits of The TAJ and the Arabian Sea. I was taken over by her majesty.
Standing in front of a sea is very different from standing in front of a river or a lake. There you can see its boundaries. You can see beyond it. But the sight of a sea is mysterious, even frightening. The fear of unknown, unseen power: overwhelming human psyche with its grandeur. The first deities worshiped by humans were basically forces of nature. I guess the image of goddess of water in coastal regions would have been quite different from the image of serene faced ‘Ganga’ in the plains.
The first evening was spent roaming around the area that included marine drive and fort. I liked every bit of it- the stroll across marine drive, the Paav-Bhaji at chaupati, the gothic architecture and even the bustle of Fashion Street. The first day ended with this as I readied for next day’s event.
The destination for next day was Trombay. I undertook my first journey on a BEST bus. Number 21, I still remember. It was a cloudy morning and the sun wasn’t visible. The hills painted with bright green all over, had clouds surrounding them like diamond crown over the head of beauty queen……………. Soon it started pouring…… Now this was romantic!
The rains for the two days seemed all sweet and beautiful to me; may be because they never troubled me. Most of the times, shower came when I was in no hurry. I could wait and watch and even drench myself at times, without being worried about getting late. Sometimes it seems that the journey is more pleasant when you don’t have to reach anywhere.
But the evening came with the same old rush to catch my train at CST, the new name for the grand old VT. It was the most beautiful railway station building I had ever seen. It was quite old and graceful. The tombs, the carvings and even the tinted glass on the arch shaped windows gave it a look of a bride. The architecture was mixed and I being a novice could not judge where the influences came from. But I loved it. For not doing so you need to be too much of purist or perhaps a member of a right wing; like one of those who renamed it.
This was coming to an end. The train caught speed as I gazed the platform passing away. Little did I know then, that I’ll return after a year to settle down to watch Mumbai with a completely new perspective.