Rosalyn D'mello: Falling in love with Mumbai again

There are so many tastes and sounds Irsquom so keen to reacquaint myself with Irsquoll start with a chai and bun maska at YazdaniThere was a time when I yearned to travel The desire was so intense I named my blog wanderlustingfeet because I ached for the strangeness of lands I had yet to discover terrain that was unchartered in my imagination Cut to today where my feet literally ache from over exposure my muscles all knotted up from excessive sprinting to catch flights and disembark swiftly to avoid rush hour my left shoulder strained from lifting luggage off baggage claim I was still savouring the limbo I found myself in after returning from Melbourne and reexperiencing the chaos of Delhi when I had to get on a plane to Bombay mdash a city I had called home for all of my girlhood For the first time in my life what Irsquom longing for is the security of staying put in one place without the threat of having to leave too soonEver since I abandoned Bombay to lay roots in Delhi almost a decade ago Irsquove had a conflicted relationship with this city by the sea At first when I still hadnrsquot taken to the aggressiveness of the Capital I thought of it in the same vein as one might consider a husband the subject of an arranged marriage of convenience Bombay was the secret lover the one that just lsquogot mersquo without my having to explain myselfBut one evening Delhi seduced me It was a distinct moment that I have recorded often enough but which still astounds me with the poignancy of its synchronicity I had found myself at the mouth of Khan Market waiting for a friend to get a drink Without knowing it I found myself gravitating towards the scent of meat being cooked in a tandoor The epicurean in me simply followed the trail until I landed at the erstwhile location of Khan Chachas I ordered either a mutton seekh roll or a chicken tikka roll I canrsquot quite remember but just as I sunk my teeth into its smoky flesh a choir standing right there who had just finished devouring their own rolls broke into song It could have been any random piece but they sang a capella Sealrsquos Kissed by a Rose I gulped the coincidence of the songrsquos title conflated with the abridged version of my name not lost on meSoon the relationship between cities got inverted Bombay became the ex mdash the lover I felt embarassed about having once loved and Delhi became the new beau the one I knew so little about that every facet that was revealed to me was met with utter fascinationOddly enough the process of writing this weekly column has reinvigorated my relationship with Bombay I have been compelled to revisit these multiple intrigues that cement my association with its people my people One immediate consequence has been a previously unacknowledged affection for Kurla mdash a place I otherwise describe as lsquothe land god forgot aboutrsquo It is odd to have landed in the city and to not yet have gone lsquohomersquo to be suspended in Colaba at the house of a dear friend someone who moved from Delhi to Mumbai to not have inadvertently made the sign of the cross as I passed by the grotto where today for sure there would have been a garland strung across the statue of Our Lady of Fatima given itrsquos the feast of Maryrsquos birth and the feast of Our Lady of Vailankanni which is unofficially the biggest celebration in Kurla Itrsquos the culmination of the historic novena where for the preceeding nine days a flag bearing the image of Mary is hoisted every evening at 5 pmIrsquom missing stepping into the block of my building and remembering the soul of Aunty Milli who died a few years ago having crossed the 100year mark and who always prayed for me And my next door neighbours the Anchans who have always looked after me and cared for me in ways I have never been able to quantify Irsquove so many commitments on my plate that a trip from Colaba to Kurla feels like a luxury of time I cannot yet affordWhat gives me sweet pleasure though is to see the city through the eyes of both an insider and a visitor I smile each time a bunch of men walk by and strains of Marathi reach my earsYesterday I found myself delighting in the crunch of a fabulously made sev puri There are so many tastes and sounds Irsquom so keen to reacquaint myself with Irsquoll start with a Saturday morning chai and bun maska at Yazdani where I expect to stumble upon the ghost of one of my past selves sitting aimlessly eating apple pie and dreaming of a world beyond BombayDeliberating on the life and times of Everywoman Rosalyn DrsquoMello is a reputed art critic and the author of A Handbook For My Lover She tweets RosaParx Send your feedback to mailbagmiddaycom