Black Bombay

Its like an invisible force. Like black magic. Evil. Foreboding. Yet tempting. Pulling me towards itself. Giving me unnecessary hopes, inculcating in me, a resigned indifference, asking me never to expect from people – for it is, paradoxically, a selfish but warm, rainy but sunny, expensive but cheap, crowded but personal and a hateful but likeable place. This is Mumbai. I am returning to it – yet again. Except last time was shit. There was illness in the air, hatred in the blood, tears in my eyes and so much of a mental void.
This time – I like to think – that I am stronger, more level headed, rather determined and yet most impulsive.
I like to think people are good. I like to give everyone there, the benefit of the doubt. I also think though, that I like to get hurt – and sadistically, many times so. I like to fall and rise – and bruise and heal – and tell myself…I survived again!
Limitations of a human being …but more than that…limitations of an AV student. Oh why tell me, did I take the blasted course. It taught me more about life than about a job. It made me wary of trusting, depending, and being blind against the malice of many. It taught me, no doubt, little bit of editing, camera and lots of bullshitting. But most of all it taught me – that we make choices … good choices, terrible choices…but at the end of the day we live with our choices and no one else…not our mothers or fathers or lovers… but the individual who made a choice.
I think I make a lot of wrong choices. I think I am rather impulsive and stupid. I also like to think that some good will come out of all of this. I think positive. Well…looking at the really optimistic side…atleast I think!
I haven’t slept well in the past month. Come 6:30 and my eyes snap open. Automatically!! As if an external force is prying my eyelids open and asking me to stop dreaming and start living…reality bites…and it really hurts.
Wishful thinking keeps me going still… I wish I am happy again…I wish someday I have the power to sleep for 12 hours at a stretch again. I wish my dark circles disappear one day. I wish I were pretty.
Rain and muck and crowd and locals and leopolds and odd working hours beckon me again – or may I say, yet again! But will it be that bad? Could it be worse? Could I again be sitting at the window sill finishing a pack of Marlboro lights in a night listening to Bavra mann? Or would I be reading something and eating watermelon while productively doing something out of my life? How much have I wasted…haste makes waste, no?
And yet again – this has been a hasty decision – and only my wishful thinking hopes against hope that it is not wasted this time…that I am not wasted this time…that my joy isn’t wasted this time.
I’ve had enough. Truly had enough. I’m going to give happiness a chance. I am not going to wallow around in hollow, self-indulgent pain. What is a city? It’s an area of land…with roads and houses and some people who don’t even matter. Let’s try to live for a change…and live solely for myself. Let’s defeat black magic. Let’s triumph over Mumbai!