mumbye

It's probably like falling out of love. The sadness that overcame me still confuses me. I'm out of Bombay. And surely one chapter is over and lost and unredeemable. The last days were spent walking the small lanes of where I lived... Veronica Road, Waroda Road, Pali Naka, Bandstand and the Fort on Buddha Purnima night; acutely aware of the smallest things that would change.

moon up in the east and sun down in the west; in between the two i'd sit and read(view from fort top)

I will miss the familiarity of this place. Somehow the quiet narrow lanes and small buildings crowding in on each other breeds a homely feeling to this neighborhood. And that too in a place like Bandra. Where you step outside the comfort of the sleepy inner lanes onto the Super Mall streets of Hill and Linking Roads. And then you walk down towards the sea passing Mount Mary and her steps. And you sit and read while the waves whisper and groan and roar as they please.

I had my own place, a comfortable existence, decent money to go by and no responsibilities at all. And now I'm going ahead and changing it all! It isn't like I realized this just now. In fact by the end of my notice period at work I decided that I had to make the most of the remaining month I had there. I did a second Goa trip to a friends place. Lived in a century old Portuguese styled house with amazing wood worked ceilings and windows. Drove to the northernmost beaches in Goa, ate a whole lot of Xacuti, drank cheap liquor and pledged to settle down there. And now I'm sitting here writing about it all, logging it in so that I don't forget all that I did.

I wish I could list out all the small things I would like my memory to hold on to. It would be incoherent and formless. Yet the intent to never forget this time would be served.