Joining hordes of migrants

Moving to Bombay is a pain, even though 10,000 people do it every day, some merely in the hope of making a better living in the big city and some attracted by the glamour and the allure of the film industry. Blind to the stench that envelopes the city and oblivious to the grime that coats it, they cling to their hopes and their dreams, filling ever more its bursting trains and choked roads, making the city filthier, coarser, and more pathetic than every previous day.

I am going to join the ranks later this week, and I wish I had a choice in the matter. Don't like the city and don't like the company that is sending me there. Moreover, NDTV is asking me to join next Monday but has still not given me any sort of confirmation in writing. I would have thought that it was a scam too, but I have worked with them before and my future boss is my cousin-in-law who tells me that there should be no complications, so I am going to set myself up anyway. Small mercy that at least I already have some friends in that hell-hole of a workplace and a stench-pit passing for a metropolis. Now I need to find myself a pigeon hole in that bizarrely-priced-for-real-estate city.

But I really can't complain. After months of being bothered by a total lack of occupation, I will finally have something to do, and hopefully, it will be something I won't be averse to. I wish I knew what it is I am supposed to do, but they haven't even given me a job description yet. All the same, I am, more than anything else, relieved. Though I will miss the beautiful Delhi winter and the fog. Instead, I will see people wearing sweaters only because it makes it easier to pretend that it is cold outdoors. And I can look forward for the monsoon to turn the entire city into one huge sewer.