Im Mumbai, east meets west

Descending into the urban jungle, my pulse beat with enthusiasm as I set foot in ‘the city of dreams’. From the arrival at the snazzy airport, to its crowded streets, I sat in awe. Suddenly, Kolkata felt like a little village tucked into my pocket.

I craned my neck to take in the skyscrapers that sprawled the city. Higher, bigger and shinier — the sheer enormity and complexity of Mumbai’s wealth was something I had heard of, but to witness it in all its glory was another thing altogether. Within one hour of my arrival, I knew this city had the appetite of a monster, to grab and chew its way onto becoming India’s sneer at the world’s growing might.

But Mumbai had its darker side too, for every skyscraper had a slum fermenting right at its feet. My mind was abuzz with questions as to why a trail of poverty ran in the undercurrents of the metropolis. And then I realised that with so much money, ambition, and so many ambitious people, there were bound to be those who fell hard. Here, you either make it or break it; it’s the land of no in-betweeners. It’s the risk that accompanies the power and fortune that our wildest dreams yearn.

My trip to Mumbai was a twin quest for work and holiday. Having prattled my way through life, I decided to become a journalist and intern at DNA.

My first job in an unknown urban jungle was a thought that made me queasy before I could even stomach it. Luckily for me, I met the Mumbaikar. It might sound cliche, but the saying of never judging a book by its cover rings true when you talk of Mumbaikars.

Yes, they dress well, and to spot an oddly dressed person would be an oddity in itself. But the people are as nice as they look; they’re warm, welcoming and carefree. They won’t meddle in your business, and judgment is the last thing on their minds. You can be a girl in shorts, or a boy with too many piercings, and yet there won’t be a pair of eyes following you wherever you go, casting too many sinful accusations. For a city wrangled in stress and commotion, living life is a talent it juggles along the side.

Next was the food. It’s the only thing that can turn my day around. I tried all that I could — from Smokin Joe’s and Pizza By The Bay, to random small-time joints. But it was Cafe Mondegar and Theobroma that won. However, I still proudly hold that Kolkata rules the roost here, with its indulgences at drop-dead prices and a platter that caters to all palates.

With June coming to a close, and having eaten my way through my wallet, I have begun packing a suitcase-full of Colaba to return to Kolkata.

In Mumbai, I learnt what rainfall is at its worst, how paralysing traffic can be, and how money can disappear. But I also learnt where India is headed and how far we’ve come. Yes, disparity is stark, but at least we’re trying.