In my dreams and often outside, I find myself in strange lands.
On the brink of new cultures, customs, cuisines and celebrations.
Inside my heart, I yearn to find a piece of Bombay everywhere I go.
It doesnt stop me from enjoying or experiencing the unknown.
Just heightens the anticipation of discovering something, a face, a place, a feeling ..close to home.
My city with the two patron godesses - Mumbadevi and Mount Mary. They are everywhere. Mostly inside my mind.
Bombay.
I've loved someone here.
I've lost someone here.
I've found someone here.
I've left it.
I've missed it.
I've dissed it.
I've had faith here.
I've been empty here.
I've cried in public places here.
I've laughed in the silence of solitude here.
And I keep coming back.
This city has shaken me, taken me and shaped me.
This past weekend - I went for an early morning walk in old bombay.
Saw the beautiful flora fountain welcome the morning sun, the dust particles dance aplenty in the hallowed aisles of the david sasoon library, heard christmas choir at St Thomas's cathedral and went fruit shopping at the austere Crawford market.
Even after all these years, it made me cry- a little on the inside, made me come to life in a way I had not before.
As I ended the walk with brunch at Cafe Mondegar, I had an overwhelming feeling that somehow God was in Bombay and he had found me that day.
And just when I was shaking my curly head and dismissing my foolish idea, Abba played on the juke box and I knew it was true.
The only journeys that make sense are the ones that bring you back home.
To a new home, or an old home ..or as in my case - a new old home.
Amen.
