- "The sort of companion who never explains herself fully, yet somehow rearranges the furniture of your heart and leaves you grateful for the disturbance [...] It was always a little indulgent, a little excessive, as though the city took quiet pleasure in watching you surrender to her. [...] I sometimes wonder whether Bombay’s greatest architecture was never her buildings at all. It was her instinct to accommodate."
You live Bombay, she lives in you, as you wrote. I experience her in some of the texture and character of our friendship.
- "Love is never about possession. It is about preparing someone well enough that they may one day leave, yet never truly depart."
A very endearing sentiment.
- "I think it was teaching me that civilisations do not become smaller by opening their doors." This is something dearly needed to be remembered these days: one need not fear inclusion.
- "In the way a roti could puff over the flame while courage, sacrifice, honour and defiance quietly found a place in a child’s imagination."
So evocative. And I love that you have this in your mental treasure chest of memories.
- "We honour those who came before us not by repeating their words exactly. We honour them by allowing the quality of their lives to refine the quality of our own."
Well thought, well stated. I take this with me moving forward.
- This essay points in so many interesting directions thematically --including towards some habits that trouble me, from time to time, about my own conduct: use of power without sufficient compassion, strength without sufficient humility. These lead to, in my opinion, some of my worst behavioral choices / reactions. I appreciate receiving these concepts about something that was already bothering me. 🙏
VPep, thank you for reading it with such care. You picked up so many of the threads I hoped were there, and a few I probably did not even realise I had left lying around for Bombay to trip over. Very on brand for her 😉
I loved what you said about experiencing her texture in our friendship; I am literally hugging this thought 💞 Bombay, to me, has never been a city one neatly explains. She is more of a temperament. You survive her, argue with her, feed her, curse her, miss her, and then somehow discover she has quietly moved into your bones.
Your reflection on power without enough compassion, and strength without enough humility, really stayed with me too. Perhaps that is where these old stories still do their best work. Not by making us grand or heroic, but by making us pause before we become careless with our own force.
Some children are raised on speeches. Some of us were clearly raised by puffed bread, overheard courage, and women who were far too busy making dinner to call it philosophy.
Thank you for receiving the piece so thoughtfully. Your thoughts and extra nurturing you give to my humble efforts at writing are indeed very endearing to me 💖
- "The sort of companion who never explains herself fully, yet somehow rearranges the furniture of your heart and leaves you grateful for the disturbance [...] It was always a little indulgent, a little excessive, as though the city took quiet pleasure in watching you surrender to her. [...] I sometimes wonder whether Bombay’s greatest architecture was never her buildings at all. It was her instinct to accommodate."
You live Bombay, she lives in you, as you wrote. I experience her in some of the texture and character of our friendship.
- "Love is never about possession. It is about preparing someone well enough that they may one day leave, yet never truly depart."
A very endearing sentiment.
- "I think it was teaching me that civilisations do not become smaller by opening their doors." This is something dearly needed to be remembered these days: one need not fear inclusion.
- "In the way a roti could puff over the flame while courage, sacrifice, honour and defiance quietly found a place in a child’s imagination."
So evocative. And I love that you have this in your mental treasure chest of memories.
- "We honour those who came before us not by repeating their words exactly. We honour them by allowing the quality of their lives to refine the quality of our own."
Well thought, well stated. I take this with me moving forward.
- This essay points in so many interesting directions thematically --including towards some habits that trouble me, from time to time, about my own conduct: use of power without sufficient compassion, strength without sufficient humility. These lead to, in my opinion, some of my worst behavioral choices / reactions. I appreciate receiving these concepts about something that was already bothering me. 🙏
Deep down the memory lane it was a rollercoaster.each and every word hit hard big round of applause 💕💕
VPep, thank you for reading it with such care. You picked up so many of the threads I hoped were there, and a few I probably did not even realise I had left lying around for Bombay to trip over. Very on brand for her 😉
I loved what you said about experiencing her texture in our friendship; I am literally hugging this thought 💞 Bombay, to me, has never been a city one neatly explains. She is more of a temperament. You survive her, argue with her, feed her, curse her, miss her, and then somehow discover she has quietly moved into your bones.
Your reflection on power without enough compassion, and strength without enough humility, really stayed with me too. Perhaps that is where these old stories still do their best work. Not by making us grand or heroic, but by making us pause before we become careless with our own force.
Some children are raised on speeches. Some of us were clearly raised by puffed bread, overheard courage, and women who were far too busy making dinner to call it philosophy.
Thank you for receiving the piece so thoughtfully. Your thoughts and extra nurturing you give to my humble efforts at writing are indeed very endearing to me 💖