Now a days I am reading Suketu Mehta's "Bombay Lost and Found". There is no second opinion about how well the book is written. It is simply superb. If one wants to know about Mumbai start with Suketu Mehta's book. After I read first 50 pages, I got a chance to go to Mumbai. Actually, those fifty pages had evoked my wish to visit Mumbai so much that God's "pouring water process" could not perish my will. I saw the city with my eyes and sight matched what I was seeing from author's eyes.
The small hole like openings in the Jogeshwari slum area made me think of slightly enlarged version of an opening in the ground from where ants come and disappear after entering into it. I wondered If the people getting inside that dark opening will enter the same atmosphere that surrounds the Earth, that we know.
I travelled in local trains, observed the intermingled crowd, felt secured being a girl unlike Delhi, appreciated the endlessness of the sea at Juhu beach and above all saw the slum area - Mumbai is known for.
Everytime I read the book a new journey starts and after reading 10-15 pages, I close the book, close my eyes and after moaning for some time feel better and thank God. The story of a 16 year old boy who murdered a person ruthlessly for Rs 50 that he required to buy a shade for his so called "home" invoked the sleeping self to take a resolution not to disrespect a miniscule piece of food lying in my plate by throwing it in dustbin.Everytime I see a little boy or girl pleading to buy five rupees balloon, I recall that boy only and feel heavy in my heart.
We complain so much daily ...we complain that food in the cafeteria is bad, colleagues do not cooperate, room mates don't take responsibilities and so on. But once you compare yourself with the condition of those who daily suffer a mental death crore times before they actually die, perhaps you stop complaining.
Intimacy and silence when comes along..
Breeze trespasing my ears sing a song...
Through the good and sad times I had been..
Care and compasion I have seen..
In my prayers and wishes some precise some long...
Commitments I made to my self not so strong..
One thing was missed one time and again..
Thought that came relentlessly though I never refrain..
"The big Thanks" that we forget daily...
In lieu of a good life blessed by Almighty...
We see those bleak eyes trying to knock your heart..
Pay sympathy that soon goes off with a kick start...
The foodless, homeless and may be less by all means...
But no doubt perfect and proper with human genes..
When small defeats lead to an empth heart..
You find yourself middle of the torment..
Just go tto the traffic signal before kick start..
Remeber those bleak eyes that knocked your heart..
Let enter all the tears of those misty eyes in yours..
Then try to search the emptiness once more..
You won't find it, I bet for sure...
