After boarding Goa bound flights since last one year,
boarding Delhi-Mumbai plane was nothing less than a cultural shock. In flights
going to Goa, our co-passengers are mix of holidaying families, honeymooning
couples and ultra-excited youngsters looking forward to a dil-chahta-hai-flavour
holiday. And we,
the students of Goa Institute of Management (yes we are real and normal
students who STUDY here, and our classes are NOT conducted in the beach shacks…
mind it), appear to be a depressed bunch of overdressed people. But flight
G8-229 showed us how we have still not reached the pinnacle of sophistication,
despite one year in a ‘serious’ management school. Being a Monday morning
flight, the plane had an overwhelming attendance of erstwhile ‘blackberry boys’.
The skilled and high income section of our workforce, dressed in crisply creased
western business formals, titter-tatting on their smartphones with one hand and
carrying all varieties of laptop bags in the other. I and my friend Karishma
looked at them and then at each other and then at ourselves, ending the tour
with a hesitating gulp. Same thought echoed in our thought clouds, ‘Dude! We
are so not corporate material yet… And that is our future!!’
Anyways, that did make us feel a li’l younger amongst our
co-passengers. We hurriedly grabbed our seats and even before the flight took
off, both of us dozed off. I woke up to a ting, a sound which the push button
above your head politely and sophistically makes to call the stewardess for you.
Outside the window, a serene stream of white cotton candy clouds rested
peacefully, giving us an illusion of motionlessness. That soothing picture was
suddenly interrupted by a rocky mountainous terrain, just like the entry of a
villain in a hindi film immediately after a romantic duet. But they seemed more
like dependable guards than evil sentinels, as following them were the high
rising buildings of Mumbai suburbs interjected by comparatively grass level
slums. With this sinuous skyline I knew that we have reached Mumbai.
As I thumped my Delhi-feet into the Mumbai airport, a huge
sign with a Gateway of India picture greeted us saying ‘Welcome to Mumbai’. I am
always happy when I come to this city. Although I don’t know this place well, I
can never be an alien to this land where I took my first steps, which would be somewhere
in Goregaon East. We had no time to rest as we had to immediately proceed with
our shelter hunt in Thane. So we took a cab, loaded our massive luggage and
commenced with our project. Traffic jammed Mumbai kept surprising us with a
random sequence of warm and cold breezes and salt-dunes replaced slums and
buildings, while we tried to keep a mental record of what came when, Santa
Cruz, Ville Parle, Andheri etc. etc. Finally, sometime after paying the toll
tax, we reached Thane.
We spent
the whole day searching for accommodation. At everyplace we went to, after
calculating its distance from office and station, and our monthly payable, I
would try to form a mental picture of me inhabiting that place. Some places fell short on surroundings, while the others smugly mocked our tiny pockets. Unfortunately,
the search is still on, but not for long I hope. I have seven hours long induction
to attend tomorrow, and unlike classrooms, I can’t afford to sleep during it. So
here I am, signing off from the first post of my ‘Summer of 2012’. Ciao! 
