writeStuff

Standing near the CST station for the bus that takes you to Malabar hills. The P’Dmello road was busy as usual. People were waiting for their bus. A certain 42 number bus came but that wasn't the one I was looking for, 219 went past but that didn’t go to Malabar Hills either. Then the one came I was looking for, 103, amidst the traffic. I boarded the bus feeling gratified. I sat near the window seat taking one of the empty seats at the back. The bus wheeled down the road crossing the rustic cobalt stone buildings, flora fountain and many banks on the way. The ticket conductor came in asking for the ticket. “One Malabar Hills,” I said. “You have boarded the wrong bus,” he said. Without another word, I got down near the University of Mumbai. But I had no clue where to find the next bus, which stops to look out for? This time I didn’t go for my GPS instead asked a taxi driver. “How can I reach Malabar Hills?” I asked. “It’s too far from here, you will have to cross the entir

Statistics say that Mumbai local trains kill more than a terrorist attack. 3,880 people lost their life while crossing the railway track, getting down from the train or travelling on the roof and falling over. 25,000 volts of electricity run through the electric lines and hence many people die due to electrocution. Its a baffling statistic to read but that is a grim portrayal of the reality. The train stopped at the stations and the people kept pouring in and out of the train. The train entered the Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj Terminus. Its a sprawling railway station built during the British rule in India. Its an UNESCO world heritage site. Fredrick William Stevens an architectural Engineer from British Colonial Government, designed the Victoria Terminus. It has a Gothic Architecture. Coming out of CST station I found the busy P D’Mello road. The magnificent Municipal Corporation of Mumbai was overlooking its neighbor the Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj Terminus made out of the def

The morning sun was shimmering in the sky through the clouds as I woke up in my bedroom wrapped in the comfort of my sheets. It was the month of August the mist-laden greenery was drenched with a few late night showers. I quickly got out of the bed to get ready for the day ahead. My mom had made delicious parathas, I polished them off with some curd and washed them down with a cup of milk. Having satiated my hunger I began my journey. It was 8 in the morning as I was waiting for the share auto-rickshaw. The line seemed to be going nowhere just then the city bus came along. I hopped in the bus to find every seat occupied by the passengers. I stood near the emergency exit window. I took out The Hobbit by JRR Tolkien and began thumbing it. Soon the bus was filled to its capacity with people, students. The conductor came I bought a ticket to drop me at the Thane Station. He gave away the ticket in a hurried manner and went into the crowd ahead. Getting down near the bus depot nea