There are three days until twenty hours until I land in Bombay's principal airport. I would give it a proper name if it didn't have one that even I have to look at a couple times before I can pronounce. With a long to-do list, miscellaneous toiletries, and luggage surrounding me, I sit down to think. Pushing out of my mind the obvious space issues in my carry-on bag, I wonder: what will the next two months bring me?
Countless trips to my favourite falooda place known as Badshah Cold Drinks, good times spent on the terrace of my grandmother's building, and following my beautiful cousin and to-be bride around as she bickers with her mother over the right way to do her hair or keep her dupatta. Surely, it will be eventful.
But, there will also be days when the heat and humidity are up, my hair is pulling an HMS Bounty, and the fan can't spin any faster. Those days when you simply have to suck it up and become completely engrossed in Bollywood film songs.
Yes, I have a vivid image of what it will be like, but Bombay is not a place to be pegged into a hole, and every time I go back I see more, hear more, learn more, understand more, and feel more than I did the last. Forgive me my fluff and sentiments. The point remains that Bombay will be a sizable adventure paired with a true to life monsoon wedding, and I look forward to almost every minute of it.
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