Of Cabbages and Kings

February 29, 2008

Bombay

Filed under: Random musing — Chinmayi @ 5:40 pm

Bombay is a strange city. Goa, Aurangabad, the Sahyadri range and such like clustering around but no one will ever find the time to venture that far. Beaches right at your doorstep and a sea outside your window but no time to take a walk across the road or draw the curtains.

In the streets, Bal Thackeray’s nephew tries hard to claim the throne from the son. It’s BT’s own patented method – spew venom. An actor’s house is damaged a little, a whole bunch of poor cab drivers are beaten up. Private cars drive offiice goers back as the cabbies retreat from the roads in protest. Politicans make comforting sounds but the targets are not appeased. The nephew is rounded up and taken off to jail. Supporters gleefully burn some shops and vehicles and beat up a few harmless vegetable vendors. People abandon work and rush home. Trains overflow. There are no cabs. And next there there is no trace of any of this.

Like clockwork the city ticks. If you move out of your place, someone else will step into. And like a frighteningly huge machine, at 9 every morning Bombay rears itself. And it ticks away till two at night. And then slowly, ever so slowly, over a span of two hours, it grinds to a halt. And you know that somewhere deep inside it, peeople are still moving.

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