Mumbai Uncorked...

Everyone who has lived for a considerable time in Mumbai knows that it is one of those things thats almost impossible to define. The feelings and the emotions that Mumbai arouses will never be felt elsewhere. It is these that bind all Mumbaikars well beyond the need of any geographical borders - Mumbai is open country.

No one is ever an outsider to Mumbai for too long. Mumbai accommodates. In its motley of local trains, in its numerous skyscrapers, in its share market rallies, in its Udipi restaurants and on its Chowpatties and Bandstands. Everyone is welcome. They always have been. An urban spectacle, conspicuous by its huge contribution to government revenues and by the miniscule amount that comes back, Mumbai carries on.

Sometimes, this treatment is humiliating, frustrating, even revolting. But, as Roark Howard would have said, '...the pain goes down only to a certain point, and then it stops...', Mumbai keeps at it. In the long run, the only competition will be with itself.

The rains lash Mumbai like a jealous mistress. She keeps coming back. Year after year, the monsoon keeps its date with Mumbai. And Mumbai welcomes it. Even though it hurts, Mumbai adores her. Amidst flooded roads and dank winds, aartis and pujas welcome the reunion. Even in the wake of life brought to a standstill, the tumultous relationship endures - welcomed and respected.

Mumbai may not be the most modern city, neither the most well-planned. But its magnificence lies not in what others did with it. It lies in what Mumbai does to itself every single day. Day after day. Without respite or let-back. Taking all in its stride. Mumbai goes on. Mumbai rocks.