Joyride

Irrespective of whichever place I have been in Bombay, one thing that has remained constant over the years, is the joy of those auto/cab rides: right from the short hop from VT to Regal to Fort to Marine Drive to the long and painstakingly bumpy rides from Powai to Bandra.

There is a feeling of camaraderie as I squeeze myself between middle-aged men trying to get in to work as we board the shared cab from VT to Nariman Point/Fort and hand out the five bucks to the driver…

There is a feeling of anxiety as I hurriedly plant myself in the cab, brushing my unruly hair, all tangled up after the train ride, praying that I make it in time for the last show at Regal…

There is a feeling of angst as I sit in the auto, as it crawls towards Bandra navigating through the peak hour traffic, while I surreptitiously check the meter reading, trying to gauge if it’s tampered…

There is a feeling of calm as I hug the shrug closer to me as the slight chill of the November night make me conscious of my bare arms while the auto driver breezes his way through the empty streets…

There is a feeling of contentment as I indulge in idle thoughts, the music drowning the noise of the trucks on the highway…

There is a feeling of happiness as I sleepily brush the hair off my face, high enough to appreciate the moment but aware enough to know it won’t last forever, as the city disappears behind me…

There is a feeling of comfort as familiarity slowly seeps in and the auto halts in front of my house…

There is a feeling of belonging if not to Bombay but to the idea of it…