She Said: Mumbai, my city of stars

This time, much older than Meera or Aisha, I was in Mumbai for a fleeting work visit. I did get a window of my own before work started and I gravitated towards the remnants of Aisha I carry, of wanting to be around the city ‘on my own’. I did create my Bombay playlist, borrowed heavily from Wake Up Sid, and lent myself the lens of Aisha — and definitely her optimism.

Armed with this resolve, I set out in the evening, realising too soon that steely resolves do not maketh phone batteries.

My phone conked off as soon as I started on the first leg of my solo stroll around the city. Caught unawares, and unnerved instinctively, I was thankful this city was not home. Had it been home, the tentacles of my awareness would have leapt around me, fear creeping in. I would have probably rushed to the first charging port and then dashed back to the refuge of safety.

Just a few hours earlier, on the flight to Bombay, I was reading a book on Rumi and his quote, “When you start to walk on the way, the way appears”, was ringing in my consciousness. As I wondered in a city abuzz with movement, I could surely find a perch, regain connectivity and start again. But wont as I was to walk around, I kept postponing the idea. If a way had to appear, I had to have Google Maps. But if a conked phone takes along with it the banes of existence, aka social media notifications, it also takes away the boons of connectivity — and Google Maps was the first casualty.

My aspirational plans were lofty, but this Dora had lost her compass. While brooding over whether to chastise myself over this extremely impractical plan, I was not prepared for the deluge of warmth that was to come my way.

We all fear anonymity, disappearing in the mélange of unknown faces. But this anonymity became my saviour. Not knowing the city was a blessing. Rather than the fear of the unknown, the fascination for the unknown became my Pole Star.

At crossroads where every road seemed less travelled, a passer-by rushing across was Robert Frost for me. In alleys too dark to feel comfortable, a stranger with a warm smile asking me to follow them pulled me away from despondency. At places where I stood gawking at a building, I relied on the locals to not just identify it, but also add snippets that my phone could not have dreamt of providing.  I wondered, what was it about this city that made a sceptic like me throw caution to the wind and follow an instinct that led me through one of my most memorable evenings?

As I was pondering, I caught a whiff of the sea. As far as my eyes could see, I saw the arc of Marine Drive, the destination I had in my mind when I started out. My watch, still alive, told me that I had walked nearly a dozen kilometres. I was no longer the same person who had started out. Not just a girl in the city, I was now a part of the city, for its ubiquitous spirit, the real stuff of dreams, had crept in. I still need to learn the art of surrender, but maybe I trust the unknown more. The city of dreams for me was the ‘City of Stars’ that night, for it was indeed shining just for me.

The author is an IRS officer.

National Editor Shalini Langer curates the fortnightly ‘She Said’ column