Best of Bombay









I woke up early this morning and read the news. It was disheartening watching the world crumble before me. I had also actually managed to catch the Bombay blast news firsthand a few days prior. As I watched the words flash before my eyes, my initial reaction was, "Oh my, I used to hang out there every weekend when I was in India, thank God I wasn't there when this happened."

It was all about me. Two days later, I felt a little more sorry, for the fellow Singaporean who died.

Today, I re-visited my old blog fairyemily and browsed through the picture albums of Mumbai on my laptop, wanting to find the beautiful remnants of the very very grand Taj Mahal Palace. It was my secret hideout every Sunday where I had lunch & tea, alone with a book, just to catch a breather from the pretty difficult life I was living from Monday to Saturday. It really is a very relaxing place. They had the best patisserie in Bombay with my favourite pineapple cake, Japanese food (Wasabi by Morimoto Masaharu, the Iron Chef), Singapore Airlines office (whom I'll spam call weekly to check for flights home), many boutiques from Burberry to Fendi, and a great bookstore named, Nalanda.

Then, I stumbled upon the pictures of the street children whom I went there for, and also left behind. Snippets of conversations and scenes began replaying by itself in my head as I imagined to be there once more, falling off bicycles, getting trashed in cricket by the children, rolling on grass with them and with lots of laughter too. I remembered a particular boy who was mute, clinging onto me, and I simply clung back. It was magical, living there and being with them. The path of real adventure (like true love) never did run smooth. And along the way, some things happened which threw me off balance, and I flew home immediately, deciding never to speak of India again, till I had fully recovered.

(I have so much to say I want to share them with someone, anyone.)

Right now, all I'm hoping, is for those special children to be safe in the heart of God despite the chaos. And for enough courage to bring myself back there to find them and complete my adventure from where I left off. I think I'm strong enough now, and would like to speak too of the most exhilarating time of my life in India.

I've realized how much of myself I've lost in these past five months.

Goodnight, while I hide under the sheets to cry and let regret eat me.