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‘There’s lust. And there are Chennai men’

Aditya Kshirsagar (24), really hates Chennai, and he’s taking the first flight home the moment he completes his media course.
Part I of the ‘Away from home’ Diaries.

I stay at Malad, near Inorbit Mall. I have been living there for the last five years. I left Mumbai on August 4 this year to pursue my masters in Journalism. I will specialise in Online Media. I still haven’t decided what I’m doing next, but I’m taking the first flight back home after completion of my course.

I had a very definite moment of parting with the city. That moment, when I stared at the Mumbai Airport board, did it for me. I knew one thing was certain – I would be returning very soon and for good. I got my admissions in the college at Chennai, post-that I was travelling back and forth because I needed to find an apartment in Chennai. Luckily, I found a good place in a central area of Chennai, Nungambakkam.

My first day, indeed my first week here were eased by the presence of many friends and well-wishers. One of them is a lady who is very special to me, and she basically took care of everything for me. My stay here has been made quite easy by her. So, there were no homesick moments or anything of the sort.

My typical day here? Let’s see – get up early, before the water goes away, bathe, skip breakfast, collect lunch, go to college by 0930 hours and stay there till 1800 hours. Come back home, contemplate dinner, no wants to cook, end up eating at a cheap eatery most of the nights. The place is called ‘Garage.’ This is what my week looks like, with a change on Sundays and public holidays. So yeah, it is less than exciting.

The list of what I don’t like about Chennai is a long one. I’ll just put it in points:

1) The way people in Chennai drive is horrible. Especially the MTC bus drivers, I swear there are times I have thought I would be crushed under one. I got my bike here and have not yet installed my mirrors, because it’s just a scary proposition to see that thing behind you.

2) Being called a North Indian. I don’t mind the word ‘North’ and I don’t have any geographical affiliations or likes or dislikes. But what hurts the most is the arrogance that people here display while saying the word. There was an instance where I was stopped by a senior police inspector and accused of being a thief, ‘like all other North Indians’.

3) The lack of a drainage system that leads to instant flooding of the roads.

4) Due to a lack of facilities, people here drink bottled water every day. Poor people here are dying of cholera, dengue, malaria and so on. They have a Cholera Hospital here. 

5) The way men stare at women. There is lust and then there are Chennai men; it’s beyond disgusting for women.

6) Rickshawwallahs. They charge Rs 200 or more for a distance of Borivali to Goregaon.

What I miss the most about Mumbai are its rickshawwallahs, its vada pav, varan bhat with toop and thecha, disciplined traffic, helpful people and cops, all the night eateries, and the safety for women and personal property. Yes, like several Mumbaikars I have also felt that I would leave the city for good some day, on several occasions. But home is where the smug is. I will go around, see the world or whatever, but my final resting place hopefully would be that bitch of a city.

The fast-paced life with a heterogenous crowd is very contagious. It’s not about the Mumbai spirit and hypothetical things like that. It is a place that you might physically leave, but somewhere that virus of being a Mumbaikar never leaves you.

Ah, Mumbai.

Diaries is a weekly series of stories on a single issue. The ‘Away from home’ diaries are stories of Mumbaikars who have left the city for a space of time.

 

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‘Winter brought homesickness…’

Sneha Kamat feels that if London wasn’t perpetually cold and rainy, it is actually an ideal city to live in.
Part II of the ‘Away from home’ series

The night of September 4, 2011 was a rather sleepless one. I was leaving for London the next day and the ball of anticipation in my stomach, coupled with dread, kept expanding.  At 27, I had finally mustered up the courage to quit my job of five years at a publication house to pursue a Masters in International Publishing Studies at City University, London. This was a particularly courageous year for me, because I also managed to get over my fears of matrimony and took the leap of faith in August. My husband works in London, so studying here made it a rather convenient move.

I left for the airport from my husband’s home, which in retrospect made me realise, was one of the chief reasons I effectively reined in the waterworks. It was indeed overwhelming; convincing myself that I shouldn’t fret because I’d see my family soon enough; besides trying in vain to pack a large part of my world into the two suitcase limit I was allowed by the airline. I stared vacantly at my startlingly empty closet. I’d never packed away so much before in my life. I’d never moved home, never taken a really long trip anywhere. This was in every which way, a first.

I walked out of Heathrow airport into a cold, crisp temperature of 17 degree Celsius. As someone who always prefers heat to cold, I wasn’t sure I liked this at all. I called my mum to tell her I’d reached safely. Of course, the first question she asked me was about the weather. “Feels like Lonavala, Ma,” I remember saying, in a rather fake, bright voice.

The next few days were about settling into my new home, adjusting to married life (that is not just a boring cliché!), and learning about the tube system in London, which would be my predominant mode of transport to the central part of the city, where my college is located. Now the best thing about the London Tube system is that even the most directionally-challenged person in the universe, and I’m a top contender for that spot, can figure it out within the course of a single day.

I started college within two weeks, and was immediately inundated with assignments and submissions. As someone who hadn’t been in the classroom for more than five years, staying awake during morning lectures became my first priority. I was also learning a very important art that must be mastered when one moves to a cold country – the Art of Layering! Thick leggings, thermal socks, cardigans, pullovers, jumpers, woolly scarves, gloves and loads and loads of tights, varying in thickness. This wardrobe makeover wasn’t to fulfil some girly whim; it was a necessity in every way if I wanted to feel my fingers and toes at the end of the day.

My first semester was exhausting. I was in class practically all day. And on weekends, in the library with my group members, breaking my head over project work. I live more than an hour away from college, so between all that work and travel, there wasn’t much time to mope or despair over how much I missed home. My gruelling schedule meant that I hadn’t even explored the city the way I’d planned to. But I knew it was in the offing and the onset of winter brought on the first wave of homesickness.

Winters here mean that it’s not just the cold that you’re dealing with. It gets dark by 3 pm and stays that way till sunrise the next morning. My body clock was a mess. I was often ready to go to bed by 6 pm, and waking up in the morning when it’s 5 degree Celsius outside is a tormenting task, especially for someone who detests mornings, early or otherwise. My semester had ended by then, but I had my written papers coming up soon after the New Year. One of the modules I was studying for was Publishing Law. I can positively state that between learning about inane acts and rights and dealing with the cold and the darkness, the festive Xmas and New Year period in London were among my worst weeks till then.

There were crying jags, there was massive abuse of calling cards, there was tremendous venting on the exasperated husband, and of course, panic attacks about writing exams after so long, especially that law paper. In all my years back home in Mumbai, I’d incessantly bitched about the heat, the traffic, the overworked-underpaid scenario and what not. But none of it mattered anymore. My Mumbai was my Mumbai. And I loved it a bit too much to care about anything else right then.

The manic behaviour ended with the exams, and I decided I’d take a trip back home in my rather long Easter break. One month in Mumbai, with my friends and family around me, stuffing myself with butter chicken and Gajalee’s prawn curry rice, and I was a happy camper again. Who needs spas and exotic holidays when you have your people to cheer you up!

I came back in March and settled back into college and routine and things have been a lot easier since then. I’ve slowly settled in to the London life. I’m more comfortable taking the tubes here than I ever was taking a train back home. There’s a lot of walking every day but my feet don’t hurt any more. My resistance to the cold has definitely gone up. I’ve found plenty of Indian shops where I can find many Indian goodies, including Parachute coconut oil and Marie biscuits. The city is a shopper’s paradise and I managed to undertake a fair bit of exploring this summer and some European travel too.

I love the quiet mornings, the lack of persistent honks, and the fact that I can almost always reach a place on time, without being a traffic jam victim as was my daily issue back home.

I might very well be coming back to Mumbai in a few years, but for now I’m looking forward to restarting my career here. London is slowly growing on me. It’s not home like Mumbai and I don’t know if it ever will be, but there’s something about this city that endears itself to you. In fact, if it wasn’t so cold and rainy most of the time, it’s quite the ideal city to live in.

I also believe life will become easier as I form a strong network of friends here. Sometimes I miss how easy it was to just call a friend and drop in to the neighbourhood cafe for a hot cup of coffee or share a muffin. Then again, home is where your people are. If I transported everyone I loved to London, maybe I wouldn’t miss Mumbai as much. So eventually it all comes down to forming your circle.

I look forward to my breaks back home, but I’m also learning to enjoy my time in London. Meanwhile, my quest for the best butter chicken in this city continues and I’ve vowed to enjoy it aplenty before I leave.

Sneha Kamat Bhavnani is a resident of 7 Bungalows, Andheri W. She’s just finished her MA in International Publishing Studies from City University, London and is awaiting her results. When she isn’t ranting about the London weather, you’ll find her indulging in her latest passion – online shopping! 

Diaries is a weekly series of stories on an issue. The ‘Away from home’ diaries are stories of Mumbaikars who have left the city for a space of time.

 

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‘Hyderabad’s best-kept secret is its weather’

Berges Malu moved to Hyderabad last year. There aren’t many pretty girls in Hyderabad, he says, and regionalism supersedes development there.
Part III of the ‘Away from home’ series

I’ve spent over 20 years of my life in Mumbai. I was born in Mumbai. I studied at St Xavier’s School (at Fort) and then at KC College. I’ve been in Hyderabad for over a year now.

I left Mumbai last year, in July, for Hyderabad to pursue my Masters Degree in Political Science. I got admission in a central university, which is among the best in the country.

The initial move to Hyderabad happened almost overnight. I got admission on July 16, 2011 and I was asked to join class the very next day. So I didn’t really have the time to think about the move, and that I was leaving Mumbai, so much. The one memory I do have though, is at Mumbai airport; my flight was delayed due to the rains and the rains in Mumbai were massive that day, you could barely see the wingtips! But Hyderabad was sunny and fine!

My first week in Hyderabad was crazy! Thanks to the delayed flight, I didn’t get a hostel room for all of the first week. Then began a few days of the Telangana strikes, and I had to spend the next few nights with friends who worked at Google. I wasn’t very excited about that.

Hyderabad is a great city, it’s got the charm of a small town but the features of a major city. The food is good as well, but Hyderabad’s best-kept secret is probably it’s weather. Save for the summer months of April and May, Hyderabad has a very moderate dry climate, it’s very pleasant. Which makes me very whiny when I get back to Mumbai and find how sweaty it is!

But there’s not much to hate about Hyderabad. Sure, this city literally shuts by 11 pm, the lack of cabs is unnerving for the first few months you’re here, and there’s a serious lack of pretty girls here! But nothing serious enough to incite dislike.

Oh yes, I surely do miss Mumbai! The fact that I can walk around south Mumbai at any point in time, I have some really close friends there and there’s an entire atmosphere of having fun and being carefree that isn’t quite present in Hyderabad. Mumbai is brilliant! Its people are so energetic, its culture is very warm and its politics, very intriguing. There are multiple issues out here in Hyderabad, especially the development issues which are sidestepped and instead regional or religious issues are given more attention, that’s a bit disconcerting.

If given a chance to shift outside of Mumbai permanently, I would certainly accept it. Mumbai is a great city, but I often find exploring other cities is a lot of fun, and it widens your horizons. I’m going to get done with my MA degree and look for a job before I move to another country to pursue another degree.

Berges Malu is a south Mumbai resident. He is currently pursuing an MA in political science at the University of Hyderabad. When he isn’t pretending to study, he tries to be the neighbourhood superhero. 

 

 Diaries is a weekly series of stories on an issue. The ‘Away from home’ diaries are stories of Mumbaikars who have left the city for a space of time.
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‘Everything’s bigger in Texas!’

Runa Dey left Mumbai for the US in 2006 but still misses Indian food and the recliners at Infinity Mall.
Part IV of the ‘Away from home’ series.

I was 26 when I left Mumbai in December 2006. I’ve been here ever since. I live in Houston, Texas, and I currently work at SunAmerica Financial, a part of AIG.

My husband Sarosh is with JPMorgan Chase and he was promoted and relocated to the US. The move for me meant excitement at a prospectively easier lifestyle, trepidation at the thought of leaving a great job at HSBC with amazing people and hoping to find employment again, and topmost was the anxiety about the disconnect from all familiarity, as all our immediate family and dear ones are based in Mumbai or India for the most part. To think that I’d decided I’d only marry a Mumbai guy (which I did), so I could always live close to mum; I was never charmed by the ‘NRI /US resident’ tag. Oh, well!

My last day at work was a Friday, and I used the weekend and Monday for last meetings and goodbyes. There were farewell lunches and dinners, and I got a ton of advice about the US from people who have never been to the US!

I don’t recall a lot about leaving home for the last time: I did what I always did before a significant event, prayed at the little altar in the bedroom, touched Daddy’s picture on the wall and returned my set of keys to Mum – that  was awful, I don’t have keys to my home in Mumbai since then. I recall waving to Mum and my brother at the window, bumping into neighbours, the goodbyes and blessings, the last-minute hugs and kisses, dinner with the in-laws. My cousin and her husband dropped me to the airport, as I wanted my brother to be with mom instead of coming to drop me.

The smiling lady from British Airways Meet and Assist escorted me all through….we chit-chatted about working at BA (I’d worked there prior to HSBC), last-minute calls and texts.  The flights were comfortable and uneventful.  When I reached Chicago, the immigration officer processed my documents and said, ‘Welcome to the United States, Ms Dey’.  And it hit me, stronger, a lot harder than when the pilot‘s voice floated over the PA…I was in the US now; my daddy joked with me as a kid, that I should move to US and how it’s the perfect place for me. Guess Daddy knows best!

Chicago was snowing and the flight was delayed from 5 pm to an 8.30 pm departure. I called Sarosh about the delay, bought pink lemonade at the airport because the colour was beautiful, had two swigs and dumped it – I still hate it to this day, gross!  Then I spent the delay ruminating over what I had left behind and what was in store ahead.

I finally reached Houston past 10 pm. Sarosh was overjoyed to see me after two months; likewise for me.  We drove home, noticing the differences – road signs, driving directions, the apartment at Kirby Drive. When I stepped into my new home, the carpet was soft and warm as I took off my shoes.  Warmth always feels like home, and home it was!

I spent the first few days over my documentation – state ID, SSN, bank accounts, etc – and the weekend in San Antonio, a two-hour drive from Houston for a belated first anniversary celebration.

Houston isn’t huge on public transportation at all, everyone drives everywhere, so that was a big to-do. As it was the holiday season, everything was cheery and Christmassy, with lights and  trees. The local residents are wonderful overall. Houston is a very courteous city, there’s chivalry and manners and a lot of privacy! The time zones weren’t as bad as the change in schedule – from an 8 am in Mumbai where phones and emails abound, to waking up and doing nothing, knowing nobody, life was in slow mode. I don’t think adapting to the city was exceptional, maybe because Mumbai is equally big and busier. I do see the small-town Indians locally who literally rediscover life here.  My adapting was more to do with not being around my loved ones. I did get homesick, and probably more so, because I had time on my hands.  Life was easier and more comfortable for sure, but also an endless weekend for the most part.

I love Houston –the quality of life is well paced.  No pollution and filth and eve-teasing.  I feel safe here. It has a thriving employment market and a dynamic social scene.  A lot more space to live in, no cubby hole apartments. Everything is indeed bigger in Texas!

What I learnt after moving here was what doesn’t kill you, only makes you stronger.  I am more self-sufficient, I don’t rely on others now. Mumbai had me pampered beyond reason. I am now an early riser and domestically adept, ha! The biggest changes are life itself, our family grew, first with a pet, Zizou, then with a child, Xerxes. Becoming a parent, building a house, coming from a family with a no-pets policy… moving to the US means having Zizou in my life forever and for always.

I don’t have plans to settle back in Mumbai as of now. But not come back for even a two-week vacay? Nooooooo!

What I miss most about Mumbai… I live away from my loved ones and I love them even more. Apart from them, the local food. Indian food is crappy here. The beaches…I don’t have easy beach access where I live. And the blankets and recliner seating at red lounge Infiniti, Versova. The multiplexes here don’t hold a candle to Red lounge, sorry AMC and Cinemark!

Runa Dey was a Borivli resident before she moved to Texas, USA. Her pet dog, Zizou, is her first love.

Diaries is a weekly series of stories on an issue. The ‘Away from home’ diaries are stories of Mumbaikars who have left the city for a space of time.

 

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‘Travelling in Mumbai is horrible’

Journalist Amit Jha writes about what ails his favourite city, and how it compares with other cities he’s lived in.
Part V of the ‘Away from home’ series

I am a Kalyan resident, and I currently work with The Hindustan Times in Bhopal.

Actually, my journalism career started in Bhopal in 1998. I was employed with the Central Chronicle till 2003. Apart from Bhopal, I have been deputed to Pune from 2008 to 2009, where I was employed with the Sakaal Times.

My move to Bhopal from Mumbai was a rather sudden one. I hadn’t really thought about what I was going to do before I left. One fine day in October 1998, I left for Bhopal to my mama’s (Prabhat Jha) place in search of a job. Since he was also a journalist before joining the Bharatiya Janata Party, he got me a job as a trainee journalist in Central Chronicle then.

I’ll tell you why I left Mumbai. I still remember, it was the last day of Ganpati visarjan. Some of my friends had a big fight during the immersion procession. As both the parties were known to me, I played the mediator between them, but unknown to me, my father and elder brother had come to see what the fracas was about, and they started scolding me. They had thought that I was the reason for the fight. Without listening to my protests, my elder brother slapped me in front of a crowd of 300 to 400 people. I kept mum, and the very next day, I left for Bhopal.

I was a deskie (a person in the editing department of a newspaper, called so because he holds a desk job, as opposed to a reporter’s field job) throughout my journalism career. So I was a bit nervous after joining the Hindustan Times in Bhopal as a senior correspondent, in July 2011. The first few days as a reporter were difficult – I was a bit afraid of speaking to IAS officers and ministers for my stories. Also, all my friends of my first stint had left Bhopal. So I had to make new friends.

My days here are busy – wake up by 8:00 am, read the newspapers and leave for work by 10:30 am. Then I attend the daily reporters’ meeting in the office to discuss the stories to be filed on the same day. In the afternoon, I visit various offices that are important to the news beats that I cover. I return to office in the evening, file my stories by 9:30 pm, leave for home, have dinner and then read some book before retiring for the night.

I have stayed at Delhi, Patna, Goa and Gwalior. Some of the lanes of Patna don’t let you miss Mumbai, like the Boring Canal Road. Goa is a paradise. Every Indian should visit Goa once. Delhi, though the national capital, is a very harsh city in every sense – be it the weather or the behaviour of people. And the auto drivers there a bunch of cheats.

Bhopal is a clean city, with good weather. It is a city of huge lakes. People are nice, too. The only thing I hate about Bhopal is that there are very few restaurants here, so there are limited options for eating outside.

I miss the crowd, the zeal of Mumbaikars, the vada pav which you can get at any given time in Mumbai. But travelling in Mumbai has become too horrible for words, much like the quality of life… 80 per cent of people living in Mumbai suffer from diabetes and many other lifestyle ailments. When I first came to Mumbai in 1980, the taps were always full for 24 hours. With low pressure, water is available for only an hour daily.

I do come Mumbai regularly as my parents, wife and sons stay there. After having stayed in a few other Indian cities, I honestly feel that Mumbai has no match anywhere in the country. If only something could be done about how crowded it is…

Amit Jha is a 36-year-old print journalist with editing experience.

Diaries is a weekly series of stories on an issue. The ‘Away from home’ diaries are stories of Mumbaikars who have left the city for a space of time.

 

 

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