Hi Mumbai!

Recently, struggling to cope with reality, anxiousness to get away, loss of identity and a complete lack of will, had me cooped up in my bedroom for days on end.

That was until my gem of a best friend decided to step in. Before I dive into the details, I feel it necessary to give a brief sketch as to who this wonderful human being is and what she means to me.

I first met Rushil at Alliance Française, where we both lost any chance we had of learning French, when we began crushing over our super cute French teacher. Those classes sealed the deal and our friendship since then, has been one of the bright lights in my life. She is my anchor, my (at times undesired) dose of brutal honesty and my constant support and belief. There has been not one time, when she has been wrong or misguided by her gut instinct when it comes to me, my decisions/choices and the people I surround myself with. Her ambitious and brilliant mind, fascinating creativity and amazing talent with a camera, are few of the reasons why I am so incredibly proud of her.

Moving on from the love dose…

Rushil coaxed me into flying out to see her and experience Mumbai for a bit. Despite being a military brat and having the advantage of getting to travel the country, thanks to the many places my father was posted to, somehow Mumbai evaded me and I never quite got the chance to experience the city.

Having arrived and confused a domestic airport for an international one, Rushil and I reunited after three long years. The spark that first connected us, is still there and we’ve picked up where we left off, as though these three years never really happened.

So how was my first night in Mumbai?

Well, here’s how it went…

  • Drank some VERY expensive wine out of mason jars.
  • Gorged on pizza that was all kinds of meat heaven.
  • Clicked our first ever polaroid

IMG_0785

  • Poured our hearts out (yes there were tears, a lot of tears) in the middle of the night while we sat on the roof, listening to the waves of the sea.
  • Walked extremely unsteadily on the streets as it poured cats and dogs, hunting for more alcohol as one bottle apparently, was not enough.
  • Drunk dialled people, something that is ALWAYS a bad idea.
  • Drank some more expensive wine.
  • Ate some more heavenly pizza.

Ultimately, we passed out. Or at least I did. Rushil usually can’t sleep when she’s THAT drunk.

As can be expected, we woke up with raging hangovers, the effects of which are still being felt…

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