It was a new place. A new city. Everything had changed so quickly. I didn’t even know the language. Life was so much better when you have all your friends around, sharing and caring for each other.
I had heard only stories about the magnificence that is Mumbai City. It was a welcoming change from the peaceful and quiet of Pune.
My first day in Mumbai city
I was eight years old and had just moved into Kandivali (E), Mumbai.
I got out of the rickshaw and ran towards the lift, fascinated by it and wondering how just at the press of a button a whole room comes down just for transportation to the upper floor. I had my colouring book, my G.I Joe, my HotWheels cars, and my crayons in my small Mickey Mouse backpack.
The lift attender smiled at me flashing his broken tooth (or at least what was left of his tooth) and asked me “kaunse maale pe jaana hai bhaiyya?”(“Which floor do you want to go to?”).
Partly scared and partly overwhelmed at such a grown man calling me bhaiyya, I answered “Seventh floor…” (I didn’t know what to call him, now that he called me “bhaiyya”) “... Uncleji ” I completed.
