Mother of cities to me,
For I was born in her gate,
Between the palms and the sea,
Where the world-end steamers wait.
These are the words used by Kipling to describe his birth-place, the city of Bombay (now known as Mumbai). A city which has been my, well, can't really describe it as my "home", but my place of residence for over four years now. I am no Kipling (or anything even remotely close), but reading these lines today, made me think.
- How do you get attached to a place?
- Is it because you have lived there?
- You have friends there?
- You have fond memories of the place?
- Do you associate it with some of the best events in your life (maybe without having actually lived there)?
- And does the attachment actually take place after you have left the place (Kipling left Bombay at the age of five)?
- Isn't this more a kind of longing than any actual sense of belonging?
Pretty philosophical questions. And I don't know if I should even try answering them. All I know is all these four years of staying in this city , I haven't yet been able to consider Bombay as "home".
Maybe time will bring some change.