A lesson in plurality

Growing up in Mumbai has been a constant lesson in embracing plurality.

I am not so well traveled to say with certainity that no one does it like Mumbai, but having grown up here, I know that if nothing else, this city teaches you to embrace contradictions. To never yield to a singular definition. To never be brideld with a singular identity.

This city is kaleidoscopic in its truest sense. It is unforgiving, harsh and impatient in the same breath that it is enigmatic, romantic and whimsical. It is a city where you will be elbowed in the face while getting into a train but also be greeted with unparalleled warmth by a ‘train friend’ on the other side of the battle. A friend who you know nothing about except, if you are lucky, where they get on and off, but will miss with worry the day they don’t show up.

It is a city where you may be crushed by a shopping crowd at Colaba and then by another at Marine drive but when you finally find a much coveted perch with your purchased loot in hand, it is suddenly vast, expansive, refreshing and imaginative.

Lately i have often been accused of being confounding in my empathy and plurality. I have been told that it is difficult to rationalise with me and practically impossible to understand me because of my plurality. But how could i be anything but confounding when this is the city that raised me.

Much like my home, I hold both accepting softeness and unforgiving brutality within me.