573: The unbridled missing

For some unbridled missing...I miss Bombay. Out of nowhere, I miss Bombay today the way I haven't missed it in ages. I miss my home there, my friends there, my friendships there, my freedom there, my work there, my offices, my bosses, my colleagues, trains, cabs, buses, the busy-ness, the business, the life, the ennui, the living, the way I was, the acceptance, the non-labelling, the resilience, the oblivion on a platter, the sense of hope, the gritty broken truth behind every fragment of every façade the stories, the shifting endings of stories...I miss it so so so badly. I miss that I could meet people I'd understand and very little seemed to be fake and friendships, if hollow, seemed to be hollow, and if deep, lasted a long time and rode out many storms...not the fucking play-acting happening in Pune...with the endless scrutiny and the incessant labelling and the slow-poisoned judgment of whoever you are. (Having said that, very thankful Shaniwarwada, KP, and Bhandarkar Road. That was nice...and there's always the happy, charming Bangalore. Thank God for cities and the sweet escapes they represent.)

Maybe for the rest of my days in the city, will imbibe the lessons from Chitale Bandhu (who just struck me as the wisest people to have cracked the code for surviving Pune): For as long as you can manage, keep yourself closed and the keep those people out.