The Bombay Nomad

Bombay Nomad ;From Dadar to Parel to Worli to Prabhadevi and then to Bandra

In the words of Desmond Morris
�The city is not a concrete jungle, it is a human zoo.�

Most of us live in urban spaces. Spaces well defined by their mass of glass, steel and concrete.They say there are 8 million stories in Naked City (NYC) but where I grew up there where 16 million.

I moved around a lot when I was young ....not that I moved from house to house from city to city, my case was somewhat different we moved from house to house in the same city. I was Bombay Nomad of sorts. From Dadar to Parel to Worli to Prabhadevi and then to Bandra I did the rounds. Come to think about it,it was an almost clockwise movement every 3 years.

Every failed monsoon thousands make their way into the city in search for a something better. The dreams of millions broken, fulfilled or forming, these are the building block of cities.

I have had different views of the metropolis from a first floor view of a long abandoned mill to a 16th floor view of stark contrast as far my eye could carry . My room window has stood face to face with the Arabian Sea to the cacophony of Prabhadevi traffic to the serenity of Pali Hill.

When I think Bombay, I�m magically transported to 6am Churchgate local train; you would find me under the layers and layers of multitude. Speeding by, all you see are distant pictures through, rusting bared windows and the smell if only I could describe.

A blend of sweat, rusting metal, eu de cologne, paint and tears, that�s the bittersweet smell of life in a city that sleeps but never stops.

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