It's been 17 years.
Seventeen years since I walked out of the railway station and embraced you, Mumbai.
From that cozy room in the hostel to a tiny house in a far corner of the city.
From having just one friend in the city to building some mighty friendships over the years.
From being surrounded by those friends, to bidding each one of them goodbye, one by one.
While they all moved on, I stayed back.
Not by choice, but probably by fate.
Thrice I tried to leave you, uprooted myself from here, said my goodbyes, turned back and wept, believing that I would never see you again.
"There's still some time before you move on", you seemed to say to me, every single time I stepped away.
Like a clingy lover, you pulled me back, hugged me tight, and whispered in my ears, "Not letting you go."
Oh Mumbai! I am tired of trying to move away from you. For now, I will just rest my head on your shoulders and doze off a bit. I know you are watching over me, like you have been for all these years, without me knowing.
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