26th july 2005 was destined to be a different day---well because I was finally going to fly away from Nashik. I had found another bird with common feather- Jinesh (my schoolmate since 4th). We had actually sprung surprises in Nashik by bagging admissions in Mumbai with abysmal scores (actually to say, we still wonder where did God go wrong in his permutations to make us land up here).
It was the morning at Nashik Road Railway Station--- a mesh of dirt, stains and stench welcomed the passengers in the early fresh morning, which included two ex-army men and their spectacle fashioned sons (I and my specs shared a Fevicol bond--tootne se tootta nahin, i landed up with specs in 11th std) headed for Bombay.I had convinced my dad to go via the general bogie of Panchavati Express, assuming that it would be empty. As the train entered the station and the sea of people welcomed it, and I and my dad somehow managed to shovel our ways inside the train, I for the first time understood what do we mean by the term OVERPOPULOUS COUNTRY. It was actually crazy---we didn't have space to keep both our feet on the floor, but even then the hawkers somehow managed to trespass along with their stuff as if they are travelling in a Rajdhani Express. On one side I see a fight erupting between the standing guys and the sitting lucky ducks, while at the same time on the other berth, a group of grown old men were laughing away continuously, as if they are in a laughter challenge. Actually seeing them laugh was a funny sight---I mean,, what do you do, when laughters occur in a melodious rhythm with voices resembling more of South Indian villians all ready to kidnap your girlfriend.(or boyfriend,in case you are a girl wasting your time reading this...). This combined with the fact that we have two tough ex-army personnel standing behind us, who co-incidently are also our fathers. Ever imagined what is it to maintain discipline in a train where you can't even stand properly !!! Anyways, with all the fights, Southern laughters and discipline monitoring our backs we somehow chugged out to Mumbai.
Here I was finally, to the land of opportunities, to the financial melting pot of India, to the city of everyone's dreams, though what I saw, seemed more like a nightmare. Overfilled, overflowing local trains coming to a halt, people getting out as if they hear a bomb ticking in, and then going in, as if they have heard the bomb ticking out. Hundreds of people getting in and getting out in mere 20 seconds exact through the doors which at a time can allow only two of me to trespass !!! Locals in Mumbai can be a nightmare to any new comer. First of all very few are courageous enough to look back at the local after seeing the crowds, if they manage that, then they have the weird signs and symbols hanging around at stations signalling the arrivals and departures of locals. I mean, how do you understand what is meant by the symbols D, Bo, V, AD, F ,S. But herein comes the spirit of Bombay---the soul that gives life to the city, the only thing which makes people come here despite knowing the fact, that the cattle have more luxury of living than human beings. The spirit of Bombay comes from its people. Herein your best friend is always a stranger. Ask anyone anything, and he would be more than eager to help you out. Here nobody asks your region, language or religion----there is only one religion-----WORK, and only one language----MAHATMA GANDHI IMPRINTED UPON HOLOGRAM SECURITY PAPER IMPORTED FROM ITALY (In short--money). Anybody who embarks upon the identity based upon the former factors, starts losing his own in due course of time.
Coming back, we got down at Dadar. Thereupon, i and Dad took a local for Andheri while Jinesh took up a local for Borivili. After some fifteen twenty minutes we reached the harbour line platform from where we took a rickshaw to Bhavans Campus. The moment i touched Andheri, it started drizzling---- I considered it as God's way of welcoming me to my new life (little did I know that he was actually warning me to packing my ass off as soon as possible). Once I reached S.P.C.E Unaided Wing i saw what i always saw in televisions-----CHICKS (A male term for good looking girls). It was an alien land altogether, different culture, different setup, different styles. Well oiled bespectacled guys like me had no place there, it was the land of COOOOOOOOOOLLLL !!! I was hungry, dad asked me to get something from the canteen at the basement---checking out I found out weird menus----HOT DOG , Neither was it hot, nor was there any dog in it (i mean it was completely vegetarian,) Till date i haven't been able to fathom the reason of it being named so...... There were similar other items---i came back !!! I was not going to welcome myself in Mumbai with a cold HOT vegetarian DOG !!! I said dad, that we will finish our work and then have food--------BIGGEST MISTAKE !!!
That day very few had actually come up for admissions. One among them was a girl from Pune, and as my luck would have it, she was a Bengali---FUCK !!! My Dad struck up instant talk with her family, and I knew that the very first day I had a competitor. There were nine people in the line, she being one of them.I thought that it's gonna take a lot of time. Later i came to know that more than half were her family members only, escorting and protecting---her Majesty, the Academic Empress from Pune !!!
I tried to steal a side glance at her (come on yaar, bought up in an all boys school, you somehow had to leak out your overfilled testosterone tanks), and ended up catching her stealing a side glance at me. It was pure unadulterated embarrassment. Two Bengalis, both shy trying to have a look at each other, yet showing attitude to each other, and when they finally have a look, they look straight into each other eyes. Thankfully my turn came up and I was spared the embarrassment. But then lady luck had other things for me---the office staff informed me that to get an admission to the hostel you needed a draft and the nearest bank was 3 kilometers away.
While I was busy trying to steal a glance and ending up a fool in front of the Pune Queen, God had dispatched the excess water tankers from heaven to the city of Mumbai. It was raining cats and dogs. Dad asked me to stay back at the college while he goes out and gets the D.D. for the admission to the hostel. I decided to stay back. What i saw was shocking. The college building slowly begun to be inundated with water. Floors seemed like extended bath tubs, the college quad could be easily mistaken for a swimming pool. But even then I had no idea about the reality. I thought that the A+ graded college had a Z- sewage system. It was only after Dad came in, submitted the D.D and took me out , and I saw a Santro half submerged in water, did I realise that I am a part of history in the making. For the first time the mega city of Mumbai was down on its knees, Mumbai had been flooded, and we--first time travelers to Mumbai--had been floored !!!!
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