The Moment of Truth

Now I can no longer say that I have not been around Mumbai. We (my friend and I) got more than our share of it yesterday!
The whole plan started off with going to have a proper South Indian lunch (with rice, rasam, payasam et al) at the best place for it in town - Matunga. After speaking to loads of people on how to get there, a friend we were lucky to meet at the Andheri station gave us tickets and suggested that we take a taxi from Dadar station.
By God’s grace (and by the grace of the friend as well) we reached Dadar in one piece. As planned we took a taxi to the decided place. But on reaching there we found that there was no such restaurant! So either we were at the wrong place, or the restaurant had moved! So we decided to walk around and go to any restaurant that looked authentically South Indian.
That turned out to be more difficult than we thought, for we spent the next 30 minutes walking round and round (or so it seemed) before we settled on a Café Madras. It had a long waiting line and that further bolstered our confidence that the food would be good. We were disappointed, though. Firstly, there were no meals. Secondly, the food itself tasted like a diluted version of the original. We next went to yet another “South Indian” place but were again only able to find the usual Rasam Vada and Masala Dosa on the menu. We ate to fill our stomachs and then set off on our journey back.
An uneventful taxi ride brought us back to Dadar station. Having bought a ticket to Andheri, we set off for Platform 1 to board the train. The platform was extremely crowded and when we reached the crowd of ladies (ostensibly the place where the ladies compartment was due to stop) we realized that we were too far from behind to reach the train in time when it arrives on the platform. The train finally rolled into the station and our “moment of truth” arrived. We had to get in, somehow or the other! We managed it, though it involved my almost jumping into the moving train. Once we regained our balance we realized that we were in the first class compartment (for which we did not have tickets)! A co-passenger was kind enough to reassure us, but when she heard our destination she looked confused. She then told us that we were on a train in the Central Line, when we should have boarded a train on the Western Line! Now it was our turn to look confused. Didn't we board the train on Platform 1, as instructed?
With her help we got down at Kurla. Too tired, we decided to take an auto back to Andheri.
It was only when I was narrating our experience to my friends did I realize that Kurla was a good distance away from Andheri, and that we were lucky to get back in such less time!
Whew! …

There's so much filth in there

I am sure each one of us has either harboured a desire to be a part of the coveted Civil Services cadre or knew someone who did. I count myself in the latter category. When my friend expressed this desire my first question was "Are you sure? But there is so much filth in there!" The bureacracy and the corruption in the system have filled many pockets, and many headlines. But my friend was driven by the fact that through this job, she could help people, reach out to the needy ones. I argued that this could be done through other ways as well, like through NGOs, for example. But this the post that has the power to help and create change, she countered.

Power. I think of it as the entity (next to money) which can drive people to unfathomable lengths. I wouldn't get mixed in it, if I were you.