To the 20-somethings I met in Mumbai

Last week, I left a cold Delhi in anticipation of a warmer Mumbai. Away from the chill, my expectations of warmth stemmed from the excitement of meeting my sister after a long time.
There was a job to be done yes, but then there were larger rewards to redeem. Meeting my sister by the Marine Drive was perhaps the high point of the trip. My heart swelled with pride to see how a little girl, shy and scared, whom I left there a year ago, had graduated into a confident world beater. Brave and tall (metaphorically here, she's about 5 ft only :p) she stood strong, yet kept her childlike innocence intact. Meeting her friends, however, turned out to be the most embarrassing of interactions. Knowing that the brother-sister secrets I shared with her were secrets no more accounted for a ripe blush on the cheeks. Jokes notwithstanding, I must confess: those energetic kids made me feel secure and reassured that my little child is in safe hands.
The following day heralded a challenge and I set off for the battlefield early in the morning. And while the battle in its entirety may not merit a mention here, an individual with common aspirations surely does.
A crowd of eight all fighting for oneupmanship -- it was meant to be a warzone, but it ended up being anything but that. And while decibels competed for a higher pitch, a feebler voice stood out. Amid accents of varying degrees, all that I registered was that one voice — devoid of pretence and pompous show.
Hours later, when the entire world around me was jostling to cram that every inch of Indian politics and geography, she stood out – calm, serene, almost unfazed. I chose the serene company over the hustle and bustle and that marked the beginning of the few most momentous hours of the day.
Lunch followed. I masticated the delicious food, but digested something else -- her constant reprimands for being a novice at self-serving food. “You’re funny” was what resonated on the dinner table.
After a hungry stomach wiped clean the plate, it was time to wash hands. Incidentally, Mumbai’s tap ran dry on that day and water was too precious to waste on cleaning hands. “You want to use some wet tissues,” she asked.
And often i'd hear that ignorance is bliss. True to that moment, i was convinced. My lack of knowledge about the purpose and efficiency of the tissues budgeted for some light moments, a wacky mock and a few senseless jokes. And if anything, it only broke the shield of formal discomfort and granted a more informal comfortable texture to the interaction.
They say it's in the lesser striking moments that a person's most striking persona comes through. In the age of wannabes, when people wear faces to fit into groups, there was this individual with zilch pretence. "Watched the King's Speech?" I asked.
"I don't watch Holywood movies!" she replied. Between the question and the answer, there was much more than what was asked and far more than what was told. It is the pride in one's originality that shapes characters and it takes immense confidence to beat the stereotype. Kudos to you! On my scale of 1 to 10, you scored an impressive 9.
Not may people leave a lingering impression and for those few who do, every bit of credit needs to be given. As this write up draws to a close, it leaves massive space for speculation and conjecture. My two cents: Read only as much of what is written here, and not beyond!
And when the tap runs dry the next time, you know what to do. :)