Hey folks! Some of you who are on my FB and Twitter list already received the good news. For those who are not! Well, I participated in a prompt hosted by 1HundredLink: Sweet Revenge where I wrote a short story and, on Saturday, I bagged Rs 500 gift voucher with Flikpart.com. Please click on the link to read the story https://vishalbheeroo.wordpress.com/2014/02/06/1hundred-link-sweet-revenge.
The small token of appreciation will always be truly special since it is the first time that I bagged a prize for a contest and, of course, blogging from Flikpart.com and http://1hw.in/1hundred-linky. Thanks a ton 1HundredLink and Flikpart.com and I choose to dedicate the prize to all my well wishes, read, family, friends, online friends, blog followers who keep reading me and commenting.
Let’s move on today’s post. It’s a series that will go on till March, titled Mumbai Musing where I am writing on my experience in the city that rock. Yeah! You got it right, Mumbai.
It’s five p.m. The local train slowly rattles its way at Churchgate Station, Mumbai. Hordes of commuters dashes out of the train as hundreds shove past each other and struggle their way inside the train. It’s peak hour. The announcer at the station buzzes, It’s a fast local that will only stop at Mumbai Central, Dadar, Bandra before reaching the last station at AndheRi and will not halt at other stations. The announcer do a repeat in English, Hindi and Marathi.
One could see the sit of a jam-packed station with commuters running to catch the train to home or getting out of the station as the bored Railway Police Officers are sitting on a chair to check on any untoward incident that may take place at a station frequented by millions during the day. I dash out of the station, ensuring that my railway ticket is in my pocket, to ensure that I am not subjected to a hefty fine if I am stopped by TT (Railway Ticket) officers. I scamp my way to the newspaper stall and grab copies of Times of India, Hindustan Times, Economic Times and Mid-Day. I hand over a crisp ten rupee note and tendered back one rupaiya. I get out of the station and remove a cigarette stick which I forgot in the back pocket of my Levis Jeans. I start smoking and can’t help admiring hordes of girls swarming their way to the nearest veg eatery, Satkar, right opposite the magnificent Churchgate Station.
I am alread bored and don’t wanna go back to hostel. I am bored and some expletives run down my mind, ‘What the Fuck’. I have no choice. I am tired and deprived of sleep. That’s the only sensible thing to do in my hostel room at C-Road, Churchgate. As I reached the room and changing into a pair of short lying on the bed, the phone buzzing. It’s Shaheen! I knew that all the powers are conspiring to prevent me sleeping since it’s one of best buddies calling. “Hey! What you doing?”, Shaheen sings on the phone in her lil cute birdie voice. “Acha! Suno! I am leaving office early and reaching Colaba in 40 minutes. Jaldi ana.” I have no time to think and jump straight into the shower. Time to pull the jeans and head to Colaba. There are some friends for whom sleep can always wait no matter how much you are in dire need, a bit like Sex, it can always be enjoyed better and bigger some other day. Anything for friends.
I am standing at Marine Drive where the promenade is already crowded with lovers stealing a kiss, old couples walking and a young girl running to catch hold of the pet. I love the sun shining on the Queen’s Necklace and I am gushing at the majestic sea which is always an inspiration. As I sit in the yellow-and-black cabbie, I am admiring the sea and thinking, ‘One day I will conquer the city and make it big.’ I nod to the driver as we reach Mondegar and hand him 25 bucks for three kilometres. Yay! It’s Colaba Causeway! The place is frequented by thousands tourists, local and foreign alike, as those acquainted with the over smart hawkers are haggling their way for the fake Gucci bags, chains and tee. One hawker is running after a white woman, “Madam! Okay 1000 bucks too expensive, 600 rupees only for you coz you are my sister.” I was laughing at the desperate trader and empathize for the lady if she forks out 600 bucks for a stuff worth 150 rupees.
I lit another smoke before getting inside the beer den for polished people, Cafe Mondegar. Shaheen was sitting comfortable and is already sipping beer. We hug each other as she greet me with her unique and awesome way of saying, ‘Hey’. She has a peculiar way of saying hey and it makes you smile. Very happy happy and awesome way. Time to celebrate life in Mumbai over beer and listening to loud music and, of course, the young crowd that makes Cafe Mondeee..a short form for Mondegar. Life has started in Mumbai. It’s 7 p.m. One could hear hawkers yelling and haggling to sell their stuffs, cars and buses honking their way in a blaring fashion. Truly, Horns OK. Mumbai Musing.