Three to go

Mumbai Noir under my belt, and I feel armed. Armed with a new set of emotions of a new set of people I met on this journey. Armed with the workings of a new world I discovered while disembarking at a new destination. Armed with the knowledge that I now can better understand the chaotic breathing of this city, its tossing and turning the night away quality, the anxiety that froths the part Arabian sea touched by this island city. I know the city by night a little better, and I recognize it more by the day. Its changing scars of the nights’ bygone do not render it a stranger by the day anymore. I like that. It feels more like home.

Home. It grounds you. More than a routine of coming back to it, it is the calling that centers the gravity of your soul and equalizes the energies. Known smells, dark, dusty stairs that can be negotiated with your eyes closed, phone numbers that dial like a favourite tune played out on your keyboard, switches that don’t need the light, locks that unlock before the bolt gives way, the extra nudge to the door that doesn’t seem superfluous at all, the ‘ting’ of the elevator that marks your entry before the doorbell registers it…so many identities of you scattered all around your home, you pick all these up and become a whole. The best and the most that you can be.