Mumbai is an ocean. And I am once again focussing on the same topic.
It’s not that I have a huge grudge against this place, and especially against
those living here. The reason I thought of writing down this piece of my dusty
feeling was to get out of my closet and speak. From past one month, I was
thinking of penning down all my frustrations onto a word doc and put it on my
blog, but work had been on top of my priority list, but now I’ve got some time
and here it is. I’ve begun to share.
Lots of things are happening since I’ve come to this place. First things
first; I am badly missing home, homemade food, and being at home. To some
extent, I’ve lost weight and my jeans are getting wrinkled because of the extra
holes that I’ve punched in my belt; but that’s immaterial. The weekdays pass normally
and the only time that sucks is in the weekend. You either spend the whole day
sleeping, or washing your clothes in a 6X8 bathroom. And when you have just one
Sunday to call as your weekend, in a place like Mumbai, it’s worse than a Monday.
There were times when I felt like running away from this place to some calm and
solitary place, but coming here was my decision and I didn’t wanted to deviate
any further. I’ve been successful to a very small extent in being a “kameena” as my friend had advised me to
be, but I am still trying hard to be better. There’s always this argument everyday
with my friend on waking up early and going to work. I am not sure if I am
fortunately or unfortunately single, but my committed friend always sleeps at 2
or 3 midnight after a long chat with his beloved. I get to sleep peacefully and
see the best dreams and hence wake up early on time, but he struggles to open
his eyes at 7:30 in the morning. Sometimes I smirk at him and he understands it
well.
Apart from the daily jobs at work, there is hardly anything creative
to do (except hogging food in different restaurants). Half of my career will cave
in just three places; www.dictionary.com,
www.afaqs.com and www.adsoftheworld.com. It has become my
ritual that I daily “have to” go through all these sites or else I’ll transform
into an ape. Nevertheless, life has been busy these days doing more of ‘tactical ads’ (I ended up calling it as testicle ads) and it has become a
challenge to make them look ‘creative’. The best lines always get rejected and
the clients themselves turn out to be the most talented and creative writers we’ve
ever met. The learning is massive and the time to catch up with this pace is freaking
very less. Sometime you pick up very soon and get adjusted with the flow, but
it takes time only when you don’t want to give up your “honesty and principles”
and stuff like that, you tend to fall behind. What I’ve learnt is, the only
thing that you need to hold close to yourself in a place like this is, your
wallet, mobile phone and your brains. Everything else will fall in its place.
All that I am now is nothing less than a speck of dust in this
deserted city. If I say I miss my old friends, I want to go back to my home I
am just being overtly nostalgic. Life can be much better if I start making a
living out of it; and not just by working round the clock and not feeling happy
about it, but rather feeling happy and working round the clock. If I had the
luxury of talking with time, I’d ask it, not to pause or fast forward or go
backwards, but I’d ask time to make every second of my life count. I’d not want
to fail myself, but being a speck of dust in my friends’ lives, is definitely
what scares me the most. It doesn’t matter if I am a good friend or a best
friend, or just a friend; when it is a weekday, I am living in an ivory tower
at work, and the weekend I am out of my own world. Sounds like I give a lot of
damn about what people think about me. Reality is, I just want to spend some
good time being around with each and everyone, and make some good use of my
rusty camera.
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