Bon Voyage

I have had to handle way too many farewells during the course of my short Mumbai existence. Everyone seems to leave sooner or later.

First it was Jos. How dare Jos leave?

So I reach Bombay, establish contact, actually manage to corner Jos into meeting me on a regular basis. So Jos plays along, is all obliging when it comes to the rendezvousing, gleefully stringing me along. I taste blood. Jos packs Jos’s bags and leaves. Cheated, betrayed... oh Jos... how could you?

And the mass exodus from work? Don’t even get me started... Am, Sh, K. Now Gargoyle... maybe later even Shr... its too tragic. Everyone seems to have other plans. Bigger, better things to do. One can’t help but feel all left behind.

And now that I’m making a list i might as well add- S, S, ChK. Ok so we weren’t exactly bum-chums, but that shouldn’t restrict me from bringing them up as illustrative examples should it?
More departures are in the offing. B is trying hard to prolong his Mumbai sojourn but the people over at the visa office might have some reservations. He too will soon leave. As will G. And Pooch? My partner in crime, apple of mine eye... she’s all but got her boarding pass in hand. Do these people not realise the extreme inconvenience they are causing me by just up and leaving? Inconsiderate bums...

Now AA is leaving too... which brings the count of interesting people at work dangerously close to zero.

I wish i had the means... the powers of persuasion to convince everyone to hang on in Mumbai for just a shade longer. Why doesn’t everyone appreciate how fantastically brilliant this city is? This lack of perspective seems endemic particularly among people i like. Or is it just that i notice their departure? Zillions of people have abandoned ship but i’ve only been pained by the few casualties that effect my life, make it seem slightly emptier.

(I really don’t wish to process this thought further. Not intending for this to be a particularly insightful post. Just felt like indulging in the odd rant)

Too many parties. With chips and alcohol and songs and a few polite laughs. Too many “fare thee well” presents. Too many last speeches and pictures.

Go ahead, evil people... leave. Leave me to my feigned indifference and my well disguised pout. Leave me to my “so bad at keeping in touch” self to be a sullen spectator to so many “do you remember what so and so used to do/say” conversations. Leave me to my Bombay, without so much as an escape route. And not too much to escape from.

*

13/03/09

Yesterday was Gargoyle’s last day at work. It all happened so fast and i had so much bloody work that i didn’t even have time to grieve. Or for one last extended cup of coffee. Sad.
The best thing about our friendship was that it was a secret. No one knew. We went about our work, noting the idiosyncrasies in people around us, and exchanged notes over long long lunches. We discussed ambitions, dreams, crises and Goa. Books, alcohol, sex, food and movies. Men and women. Boredom, fear, love, marriage and friendship. None of them particularly remarkable conversations. We’re neither of us great thinkers and between the two of us we are only one and a half opinionated people. But there is great joy to be derived from the commonplace. Much juice of life to be squeezed out of it.

My usual sun shiny disposition will sooner or later bamboozle me into believing that every exit makes room for something new and interesting while preserving the charm of that which is gone. Writing this post has helped get me half way there. The other half depends on how soon the “new” and “interesting” manifests itself.