When I’m old, ill and dying, I don’t want to remember people. I want to remember places, and I want to remember Bombay like this: 3 am, Kishore Kumar on radiocity, Sion station fully lit, autodrivers trying to sleep in their autos parked along the side of the road, traffic—traffic—at Wadala, people strolling on pavements, movement, always movement and the inexplicable exhilaration that accompanies the trust we all stupidly, helplessly end up placing in the city.
Whenever I come back, I always feel like I never left, like indulging in that pang of familiarity at the sight of train stations, half-built flyovers and the sea is all I ever found solace in doing, feeling.
Will toast my morning bournvita and Bombay Times to the greatest city in the world. Because you can take the girl out of Bombay but you can’t take the Bombay out of the girl.
A A Gill. THAT’S what this reminded me of. He says the same thing about how when you get old, it’s not people you remember, but places you never went to that you regret.
So are you in Delhi at the moment? I saw your post about a new city…exciting :) x
