I was not born but was raised in Mumbai. My mother apparently brought me back to Mumbai when I was 3 months old. Mumbai is home. There's no other place on earth where I could be more at home. So much so that I could trade anything to stay here!
And this is where it starts...
Not long ago, almost 9 years i guess, in my teens, I was forced to leave this city and go stay with my grandfather in the place I was born. My native place, North India. See, it's a beautiful place, but for a person who had never been there more than twice before (just for a couple of weeks of school vacation, when I was not even a teenager), this was alien. The people, their mentality, transport system, the houses, the culture and traditions, even the cows and dogs. Everything! But I had no option, but to accept what was happening. After all, what was I, just a pathetic little tenth grade teenager.
What followed was a series of events that unfolded, which made me realize how important it is to dream. I fought (not tooth and nail obviously) with customs and culture and tradition and thought processes. I fought with the entire system of Purdah. I fought for my dreams. I fought for my independence (of thoughts!). I fought for me! (The entire episode would be there for you to enjoy, in my book. And when I say enjoy, I don't mean sarcastically. It was not all bloodshed, mind you, but quite entertaining. Hell yes, there was not a single boring day, trust me.)
So.. what eventually happened was a war of words and thoughts. (surprising how it is always about thoughts, with me. At this rate, I should have probably have succumbed to a brain haemorrhage! )
And I won! Yes, I did. I was told that only if I excelled in my academics, would I be allowed to go back to my love, my Mumbai. See, it sounds like a piece of cake. But to a person who disliked 'studying', I topped the Economics exam. I did score poorly in Finance/Accounting, but hey, the rest of those subjects were a breeze.
Mumbai welcomed me back with open arms and I ran into them! And I never turned back!
So, coming back to Damien Rice. Do you know why I like him so much? Yes, 'his voice' is an obvious answer. But I also love what he sings. The words, they melt my heart. Why? Because if ever I sing, the words would be almost the same. My songs would be similar. Of love, hurt, anguish, fear, freedom. The claustrophobia of thoughts and feelings, if you know what I mean. Like you are caged. And your only way out is picking through each and every bar of hope, fear, happiness, jealousy, death and out to your freedom.
