I don’t often write blogs now days, but the staying away from music last night got me thinking that what I have got from a place like Mumbai, a dream city to every Indian. Finally parked my self in front of a computer. So here it goes. I shifted here 6 months back, leaving my heavenly hometown ‘Panchgani’, my parents, my pets or for a combined effect, the people that I could call my own. All by myself in Mumbai. This place is beautiful, even with the over crowded streets and thin stray dogs ( yes, I noticed ), if you could watch it through my hazel eyes, it really is. It was a real good feeling coming back to this place, where people remember me as Miss. Popular Sport. But this time minus the arrogance and the attitude and plus the over-confident and non-moldable ethics (see, I completely agree with you Keerti), out here, in this city, which people call the real world. Starting my day early in the morning, “Bhenchod, Yeh Alarm Clock Kisne Invent Kiya”. Watching the same faces in train and flashing a ‘Good Morning’ smile at them. Strange, isn’t it?? The people you don’t even know become a part of your life..!! And Ofcorse, staying somewhere without your family, is when your friends come in site. Friends with all the filmy dialogs, obsession about looks and dress ups, with a cocktail of attitudes, sailing through their teenage. Trying their best to keep my temper down and humor high. All in love with my weapons. Second face of the coin says that everything is temporary, as for human nature prevails in all. And this is what Mumbai has taught me. To identify people, because what they show is not what they are. I say this of my experience. Many to pen down actually. Proving the most primitive quote of our lives wrong, “A friend in need is a friend indeed”. I try my best being one, except my habit of forgetting birthdays, I’m pretty nice. And to forgive the people, intended in the above paragraph. Though revenge is sweet. Hehehe..!! Here your contacts show your strength that the muscle power, fluent English is just another name of livelihood, ignoring a bleeding person for scheduled train, using slangs more than ‘Thank you’ and repeating the Sholay-tankee suicide scenes I don’t know how many times. It’s just a different but a funny and cruel world. Suddenly, you wake up to realize that this place is now your, earning you a tag of Mumbaikar, and every bad thing doesn’t sting you anymore like it did before. But somehow, deep down, the human is still alive; I have seen people getting Goosebumps on hearing the national anthem and crying when they meet their old friends. So is a balanced equation (Too much Chemistry I have been studying lately, I tell you) So here I am, head high and heart strong, finally mature enough, following my ethics of ‘ Never Regret’ strong enough to prove myself right, even if I’m wrong, getting into fights everyday, as that’s the only entertainment I get and still boarding the wrong train when I am sleepy. Missing home like never before and glad that I’m Kanta, not The Shrikanta Pol (doesn’t mean that you can take me lightly, I’m still the best) Deeply in love with ‘Mumbai Meri Jaan’. P.S.: I still need to catch Sunkanya Singh’s finger when I cross the road, so the child in me is still alive. I won’t let anyone rest in peace so easily.