Mobile-less in Mumbai

Have for some strange reason begun to write - after losing the last precious thing I was holding on to for life in Mumbai - my mobile.

Over the past nine months and more after marriage, had gone through this maddening word-block on what to write. A million topics propped up. None of them got to be written. Bless them.

Mumbai has taught many things with its mean ways. A lot of good is still around, ocassionally sprouting up in the smile of a complete stranger in the local train, or the goodness of a neighbour to gift us her delicious pulav. That is it. But Mumbai has really meant a whole lot of internal churning...of a mixture of emotions - of migrant fear. Of alienness. Of that lonely feeling in a crowd. Of that crazy hurt when neighbours shut doors on your face for your being a tenant. Of their turning a blind eye and not as much as acknowledge your presence when you open your door as they open theirs -- because suddenly they realised you are not Marathi-speaking.

The mobile - a modern invention for all things surveillance gave this sense of belonging. A virtual one no doubt. It made me somewhat secure, even if it meant call catching me completely off-guard while hanging for dear life on to the pole of a moving local train door in the ladies' bogie. It meant talking to colleagues and catching up with gossip back home in Bangalore. On-the-spot photography, hand-held diary, things to do... Of being able to call a friend somewhere across in Chembur and ridding your rile of not being able to go there.

On Saturday evening, I let go of some fear, and dropped my knees seawards at Nariman Point parapet, besides my husband. My parents-in-law were safer, seated towards the pavement. I had been afraid when my sister did that. Something inside beat quicker -- maybe I would lose balance and fall on the cobblestones beneath, or that the sea would drag me in! But this time I wanted to break free...and just let my hair loose...to enjoy the refreshing sea-breeze and chat up with my husband. Those necklace lights along Marine Drive! It was my childhood dream...of being able spend time along the road-sea parapet. Let go fear...and you live your dream!

Fifteen minutes later, I discovered I had in fact let go of something I loved. Pictures of Crawford Market, Nariman Point, Nisarg water falls close home at Goregaon, sunset over-looking the Aarey Colony, dad feeding pigeons at Gateway, colleagues at a conference...sigh...the list goes endless...

Was providence teaching me to let go in a real way? To embrace life ahead in a new avatar?

Have been holding on to all things good from Bangalore and in Mumbai...and finally this!

The last few hours I have spent writing mails informing contacts about the loss of my instrument. Some mailed back their numbers promptly. Others offered sympathy. A friend said those golden words: I know how it feels! I need that badly.

Am to turn 30 in a few days. So this is what reflect, review and reverie means!