Now let's see what those 45 days became.
Because Bombay wasn't just a city you lived in.
It was a railway map you wanted to explore.
You wanted to explore a 100+ year old railway tunnel.
Then the train took a different route.
Instead of being disappointed, you immediately started planning the next attempt.
"I will have to strategically pick goa wala train so that it goes through that tunnel"
"Finally.BEST EXPERIENCE DURING RAIN THAT TOO THIS ROUTE IS BEST WHEN IT RAINS"
The train finally went through Parsik Tunnel.
Some things are worth waiting for.The Bombay moments that made everything slow down for a while.
The city, the sea, and one more reason Bombay became your favourite.
While you were at the beach, we video called and watched the moonrise together.
One screen. One moon. Two people watching the same sky.
Not just a place on the map anymore. A collection of stations, temples, monuments, ferries, lakes and little stories.
The lake right next to your office. Somewhere between work and everything else, Bombay kept giving you little pieces of itself.
One of those Bombay landmarks that makes the city feel exactly like Bombay.
You made your way through the city and ended up here. Another landmark checked off the Bombay map.
You took the ferry across, explored the caves, and naturally became the "Naval Arch guy" giving everyone a field-prof-style explanation.
You went looking for it.
Because apparently surviving Bombay required a very specific menu.
Dosa. Waffle.
Two things that somehow survived every Bombay food decision.
And yes, I remember.
A little bit of racing, a little bit of cinema, and a few memories in between.
You sure are courageous.
Another race. Another movie. Another ridiculous little plan.
Work · Life · Everything in between
Dear you,
I don't think you realised what those 45 days were going to become when you first stepped into Bombay. There was a job, a new city, a new routine, a hostel, unfamiliar roads, unfamiliar people, trains you were already way too excited about, and that constant question of where you would actually end up after those first 45 days.
Mumbai or Surat?
And somehow, somewhere between all the paperwork, train rides, beaches, office hours, Red Bulls, dosa dinners, random plans, sunsets, movies, F1 races and an unreasonable amount of rail fanning, those 45 days became something much bigger than just a work assignment.
They became Beautiful Chaos.
Before Bombay properly began, there was July 4: your convocation. You had already received your offer letter on December 19, and now it was finally becoming real. You were going to work. You were going to Bombay. And apparently, the first thing that needed to be negotiated was your precious five-day work week. You even asked me to pray for it. Very important priorities.
And then came your first day. The weather decided to welcome you in its own way. Rain. Crazy rain. I was probably more excited about your first day than you were, and you noticed it too: "And it's raining like crazy. Well u seem to be more excited than me joining the company." Of course I was. It was my senior's first day. You reached the office and immediately realised the place was something else: "They made us sit in a room, the office looks crazy ngl. It's a HUGE AAHH building." And then, after all that anticipation, the first week apparently had very little actual work: "Nothing to work this week, spent. 20k for nothing😭" You had expensive stuff for the office too. My rich uncle era had officially begun. Then came the paperwork, the ID issue and everything else that made one day feel like several. Eventually, you logged out, got onto your bus and started making your way back. I told you one of the nice things about a bus ride back was sleeping by the window with the cool air coming in. Your romantic description of Mumbai public transport was: "And smoke. I can feel the diesel hitting my brain". You also met way too many alumni and later went to D-Mart to buy things. Somewhere in the middle of it all came the existential realisation: "Dude I feel like a dad now". And that was Day One.
And then, somehow, Day Two became our day. You had barely begun your new job, barely begun this new chapter, and somehow this was the day we got together. July 7. 0707. You were supposed to be figuring out your new life in Bombay. Instead, you also accidentally started one with me.
Then came one of the most you days of Bombay. You met your friend and travelled Airoli, Thane, Dadar, Malad. Somewhere along the way: "Airoli station looks GOOOD". Because apparently even railway stations needed to impress you. The crowd, however, did not. You immediately regretted not taking First Class: "I made a mistake of not taking the first class ka ticket". But despite the crowds, the trains were exactly why you loved Mumbai: "Mumbai is my fav city for a reason lol". And then came the sea. Marine Drive.
The next day you decided: "I'm trying Mumbai Metro". You were heading out to meet your friend. There was a movie, then plans for an art gallery, and then Bombay did its thing: sold out. You cried virtually. But the day wasn't over. You ended up at Bandra Fort watching the sunset and then video called me. Somewhere in between all those Bombay experiences, you gave me your extremely reasonable assessment of the city: "If you have enuf money, Mumbai is the best place to live in. Enuf se I mean if you are crorepati".
July 18 was Belgium Qualifying. July 19 was the Belgian Grand Prix. Our first F1 race together. Two dates that quietly became part of our little collection of firsts.
And then came the tunnel. You wanted to explore a 100+ year-old railway tunnel. Obviously. Because if there is a railway, you are interested. If there is an old railway tunnel, apparently you have to see it. You went rail fanning, the train took a different route, and you were devastated because you didn't get your tunnel. But instead of giving up, you immediately started strategising: "I will have to strategically pick goa wala train so that it goes through that tunnel". Later that evening, you went to the beach, and at exactly 20:03, you video called me. We watched the moonrise together. A railway tunnel, a beach, a moonrise and a video call. Very Bombay. Very us.
Your close friend from college gave you a gift. And you were just... happy. One of those uncomplicated happy moments where you don't need anything more than knowing someone thought of you.
A movie with your friends. A little break from work, a little more of Bombay becoming normal, and that beautiful smile making an appearance too.
AOT movie. And my reaction to your courage was very simple: "You sure are courageous".
CST. Gateway of India. And golgappa. Because no Bombay exploration is complete without food somewhere in the middle. Your review? Hehe.
August 14 came with the tricolour lunch at work because August 15 was a holiday. Another tiny office memory that somehow made it into these 45 days. And then August 15 brought you back to what you genuinely loved: rail fanning. Except now you had discovered something even better. You could actually watch trains from your balcony. Imagine being given a place to stay and immediately turning the balcony into a railway observation deck. Of course you did.
You visited Siddhivinayak Temple and came back with: "Apparently whatever u wish here will come true". Then Mumba Devi Temple, where you told me: "Mumbai got its name because of this devi". Then Gateway of India, and finally the ferry to Elephanta Caves. You loved the ferry, and while everyone else was simply visiting, you became the unofficial field professor, the "Naval Arch guy", giving everyone else a field lecture while being absolutely delighted with yourself.
A piano concert with your friend. Another completely different little piece of Bombay. Not trains, not beaches, not work. Just music.
And now it's August 29. The day you're leaving Bombay and heading to Vizag. Forty-five days ago, we were wondering how you would manage, whether you'd survive Bombay, whether you'd get used to the place, whether it would be Mumbai or Surat after all. And look at you. You managed. Not perfectly, not without chaos, but you managed.
And then, on the very day you left, something almost ridiculously perfect happened. The train went through Parsik Tunnel. The tunnel you had wanted to see. The tunnel you had missed. The tunnel you had already started planning another train around. And finally, you got it. In the rain too. Your reaction said everything: "Finally. BEST EXPERIENCE DURING RAIN THAT TOO THIS ROUTE IS BEST WHEN IT RAINS".
And somehow, that feels like the perfect ending to your Bombay chapter.
You came here for work. You found trains, beaches, sunsets, moonrises, temples, ferries, concerts, friends, Red Bull, dosa, movies and F1. You found a city that you called your favourite. And somewhere in the middle of all of that...you found us.
So maybe Bombay really was beautiful chaos. Because it was never just the big moments. It was the 20:03 moonrise call, the 3:30 PM coffee, the diesel hitting your brain, the ₹800 pillows, the D-Mart dad moment, the sold-out art gallery, the Airoli station appreciation, the Red Bull, the pav bhaji punishment, the random temple facts, the ferry, the F1 race, the movie nights, the balcony trains and finally, the tunnel.
45 days. That's all it was supposed to be. But somehow, it became a whole little world.
And now you're leaving Bombay. Not with the same life you arrived with, but with 45 days' worth of stories.
Here's to Bombay. Here's to the chaos. Here's to the trains you chased, the places you found, the things you didn't plan, and the person who somehow made all of it a little more special.
From, someone who was watching the whole thing happen from the other side of the screen.
Somewhere between all the chaos, there was this.
Perhaps we were never meant to be a grand story.
Perhaps we were just two people crossing paths at the wrong time, then somehow finding the right one.
A city in between us.
A screen between our days.
Trains passing through tunnels,
sunsets turning into calls,
ordinary days becoming things worth remembering.
And somewhere between “kiddo” and “my senior,” between arguments and laughter, between distance and waiting, we became something neither of us had planned.
Maybe that's what makes it ours.
Not perfect.
Not ordinary.
Just beautifully,
ridiculously,
us.




Some stories don't begin with a beginning.
They begin with a competition named SIH..