Yehi Bombay Meri Jaan...

Yehi Bombay Meri Jaan...

Everyone in Mumbai rushes out of home on Sundays like school children rushing out of the classroom. Sunday outing is a cathartic process for all of us living here, a window to blow in the fresh air into our minds cluttered by cobwebs of the long week.

My wife and I are part of the flocks who fly on Sunday evening. We leave home and soon pass by the ancient St Andrew's church, dignified in its stance, watching over the silent and sullen Hill road. Mehboob Studio on our left appears crushed under the weight of 70 years of creative work in its portal.

Fading sunlight washes the majestic and awe-inspiring arches standing regal and erect, elegantly looming large in a backdrop of high-rise buildings of Worli.

Visiting South Mumbai engulfs us with the memories of our good times spent here. We know the history of those magnificent buildings, restaurants, cafes, offices, even signboards; all these have stories to tell, and after 25 years here, we know most of these stories.

We pass by Eros and Regal and Sterling cinemas; throbbing with life, boys and girls hobnobbing with a beggar woman for buying tickets in black, waiting for partners to arrive, waiting for rejection when partners do not turn up. Full of life, full of color and spirit, only young people seem to possess in all ages.

I imagined a scene inside the cinema halls. The atmosphere is like a carnival, with the smell of popcorn and swirl of Pepsi, a constant whirl of perfume, and flying kisses all around you. The movie is incidental. It is the atmosphere everyone is here for. This where I watched Guns of Navarone & Where Eagles Dare in the mid-1970s.

We stopped at traffic signals across the Victoria terminus station, grand and radiant with illumination. Washed clean in the late afternoon shower. It is waiting to embrace millions who would pour into its portals once the train services resume.

We turn back to face Churchgate station and Eros cinema across, comforting in its presence. I am almost chalked with emotion thinking of my four decades of association with these landmarks, silent witness to my youth, my struggle in this city, my past, and my present.

We head back towards the sea, facing the cool breeze of Marine Drive on our faces, watching dark clouds hovering over Raj Bhavan, impatient to burst.

We drive through the thin traffic at Pedder road, slow pace but gaining life. We take the inside route through Haji Ali, whizzing past the Jewel of India, Worli Naka, City Bakery, brilliantly lit but lifeless Siddhi Vinayak temple, illuminated Mahim Church, and Causeway, and then we are back to Bandra.

Mumbai has cast a stronger spell on us. Mystic and magic of Mumbai, Bombay has made us put roots here, stay here, live here, perhaps die here.

Our struggle, trial, tribulations, and tears of all the years seem hazy & remote when we drive around here.

As we approached our home, I am humming what Johnny Walker sings in 'Fantoosh', " Yehi Bombay Meri Jaan".