It's new, shiny and diva-like. That's what makes me want it with all the heart and soul a 26-year old fashion-obsessed girl could muster. But once I get it, I know that I will hide under piles and piles of cardboard boxes, newspapers and the exhaustive corners in the house. Only to be forgotten, to be ignored until a day dawns when I scrupulously start rummaging the entire house for a safety pin and amidst all the old notebooks and Christmas streamers, I'll find it. Snuggled under unnecessary things only to be recaptured and displayed in the living room for voyeurs and fashionistas alike.
Life's a lot like that in Mumbai. There are beautiful things, beautiful people and numerous ways to spend 10 minutes, and there we are snowed under forgotten promises, invented excuses and exhausted lives. There are moments of madness, sheer red-carpet-ness and then, poof it’s all gone. And in its place is murky darkness, an aftermath of a train journey, a simple gesture of always looking over your shoulder, and passing by life without an inkling of what you might be missing out on.
The essentials are definitely in place though. The heady feeling a morning kiss gives, a walk in the park at 6:30 a.m, bathroom jokes while my husband’s on his daily shaving ritual, drinking green tea while listening to a new rock band my taller half has discovered, walking out of the lift dressed in patent leather pumps and a wicked smile that can only spell – n-e-w-p-o-l-k-a-d-o-t-t-e-d-b-r-a, an intimate brush of hand in the sunlight while saying goodbye at the station, the huge-ness of my smile when I get a new beauty product to review and the warm hand placing my palms on his chest and snuggling into me at 2. a.m on most days.
But the human-ness in me is still clichéd. I still ponder about how the train was jam-packed at 3 in the evening, how late the bus took to get me home, the continuous sneezing of a co-passenger, the endless PR calls telling me to cover water pumps and review bisleri bottles. And to top it all off, I run to work in designer pants only to come back greased in sweat with a terrible knot in my hair that can get the best-task tag in Roadies 5. And I wail, I swear, I warn my husband am out of here and simply scream my lungs out at the nearest auto-wallah.
And today, when the bell rang at 9 in the night, I got up from my usual TV Marathon, opened the door, lifting my legs up as much as I can just to involuntarily kiss and march off to the kitchen to update him on my usual antics and to complain about the electricity, plumber and the insensitive aunty on Borivali Fast, and my eyes wander to an outstretched arm filled with a bunch of roses. And I smile and so does he. I say wow and start the ranting again. The expression he had brings me back to reality, a dreamy one to be precise. Since when did I start ignoring nice gestures that give out lovely messages? Since when did the daily grind overtake pure moments of admiration and love? When this is all you waited for, all your life, why does it become an aside when you really get it? It’s the dainty new shoe again. The diamante firmly in place, waiting to be worn everyday, waiting to be worn on dancing feet – and here I am packing it up in as sublime a manner and putting it right back on the shelf with an involuntary smile. And as I make my own rules about how I want a regular day and a special day to be, I wonder when I have become so regulation-oriented? Why do I miss out on the beauty of a regular day just because it’s not a Sunday?
It is then that I remind myself that it’s the small and thoughtful things that make music on any day. In the hectic life that is Mumbai, thank god I haven’t missed out on good intentions packed in deeply with flowers on a tiring Thursday. And as I ruffle his hair and laugh hysterically, I realize I ought to be less negative about things around me. I mistook idealism. It’s not smooth running of trains, non-crowded bus stops and PR girls who don’t nag you till you put the new pill from Ranbaxy in the next issue of Fashion Mag, it’s you being happy with the beautiful things around you. And in the busy schedules packed with many a punch, I see that we’re still celebrating a random day in Mumbai.
Today’s shoe: Manolo Blahnik Something Blue Satin Pumps with diamante detail from the movie Sex and the City.
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