I’ve walked down a certain part of Bombay, fervently hoping that the boy besides me will like me back.
I’ve sat there, years later, hearing the object of my afffection go ga-ga over his ex-girlfriend.
I was exactly in the same place, while being proposed to for the first time in my life.
I’ve parked myself on the same strip on Diwali night, picking up the pieces of a broken heart, a close friend at hand.
I’ve sat there looking deeply into someone’s eyes and surprising myself with what I felt.
I’ve sat there to think about life, the universe and everything.
And I’ve even written an ad about it.
Marine Drive. Yep. It’s the love of my life. Let the haves have the high-rises that border the Queen’s Necklace. The have-nots will always have monopoly over its sea of dreams.
Yesterday, today and tomorrow – newcomers to Bombay will leave with a vision of this little strip of land as being a symbol of everything Bombay stands for. Hope. Spacelessness. And economic inequality.
Marine Drive. That’s what’s it’s all about.
And predictably, the photographer has taken a picture of Reclamation instead of Marine Drive. You see, in the city of dreams, like in dreams themselves, things aren’t always what they seem. And that’s the way the cookie crumbles.
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