Short Story: A Memory of Mumbai I Miss No More
I missed it. I missed it with a vengeance. I missed it so much, it was like a ball of fire which started in my gut and spread all over. I missed it so very badly that words were not enough.
To have been there throughout my childhood, those tangy breezes, the white capped waves, the constant reminder in both head and heart that it was close by, the wonder, the immensity. Oh My God! I missed it. What was I thinking?
He was so smart so different from everybody I knew, the shyness, the perfection in speech, the humility in his success, that was it I thought, that’s what really got me falling in love. A sensation of getting caught up and blown away. Sometimes I look back and think how it felt to be swept away in all that intensity.
The wedding all gold and red, the lovely pink colour of the lehnga I wore for my ladies sangeet. The pretty green that matched the colour of the mehendi on my hands, those intricate designs which fascinated me so much. How happy I was, I couldn’t stop smiling, that’s what my mother says. I have this big smile in every photograph.
Love is what had brought me here to Nawalgarh, one of the hottest places in Rajasthan, for this is where he lived with his family and that’s where I had made my home too.
And now in this state where I feel hotter than ever, where every part of my body seems to bloat and the baby kicks inside at the oddest times keeping me awake during these hot sultry nights. Even the air conditioner seems to have lost the battle to the heat.
But what is this, this pain, this crazy pain, the weight, the pressure, the push and suddenly I am free.
My little girl in my arms, my angel, my future and suddenly I thought: Mumbai I don’t miss you any more!
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