The Oyster I Fell In Love With!

Oh, how beautiful you are, my historic city!

I don’t think you know your own charms. You, the eloquent oyster of the Nizams!

In the welcoming of the brilliantly harsh Sun, you give us the confidence to make it through a thousand sandstorms. To keep standing and not give up. To look up into the glaring Sun and believing that all is not lost.

In the leftover rubble of endless constructions that line the roads, you wield a power that never gives up. To never stop improving oneself. To never entertain thoughts of loss.

In the millions of speed-breakers around every corner of your anatomy, you teach someone that it is, at times, good to slow down and take a deep breath. To know that Life is too short to rush through. To save someone’s life.

In the hordes of ditches and potholes that dot your arteries and veins, you teach someone the power of never letting a little harsh criticism get to you. To know that one can pick oneself up from the depths and hurl oneself into the future. To build oneself into a stronger person.

In the rushes of erratic drivers zooming forward on your skin, you teach someone about the existence of ruthless competition. To know that it can get bloody sometimes, but one can always pull through. To learn the futility of resisting competition.

In the waterfalls of your tears that have formed your heart, you teach someone that one can absorb all the negativity in life, but even from up front can radiate positivity like none other. To inhale the scent and simply enjoy its existence. To know that there is no bigger joy than to live in the moment.

In the abusive looks of the guilty yet arrogant automobile-wielders, you teach someone the ineffectuality of the existence (or nonexistence) of royalty. To learn that blue blood is not about that which flows through one’s veins, but in the nerves in the cranium. To learn that as against popular belief, it is not how a man is born, but his attitude that defines him.

In the thousands of winding one-way streets, you teach someone the importance of direction. To know one’s direction in life. To know the final destination.

In the blaring honks and the risqué maneuvers of the autos and monstrous buses, you teach someone the undesirability of impatience. To stay on the path, even if it means getting to the destination a few minutes late. To save someone’s life. Again.

In the waters flooding through you after incessant rains, you teach someone the significance of enjoying the showers. To soak in showers of joy and ecstasy. To take it all in before the drought begins.

You have a lot of flaws, my love. But to use an analogy that fits snugly, you are an oyster. You might be dusty and angry, entertaining a snarling traffic as your soul, but within you are hidden pearls that terrifically and breathtakingly attractive. Biryani, chaat, pearls, shopping and what not! You are my home. You are my alma mater.

Oh, how much I love you, my lovely, lovely city!

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Picture Courtesy: ieeehyd.org

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2 thoughts on “The Oyster I Fell In Love With!

  1. Dear Sonali, read your write up “The Oyster I Fell In Love With!” I appreciate your unfettered love for your city. Yes, it is expected of each and every person to have such attachment with native place. Your picturesque depiction of the city, people, roads, incessant improvements on the go, erratic transportations and rushes, the past glory of Nizam, nothing appears to have been left! I add one instance of the courtesy a person bestowed on me while I was on the way to your home about three years back. I enquired my Co passenger in the train about how I could reach your home in Sec’bad, just for the enquiry he lead me quite near to the desired destination and left before I could mention his help.For a moment I was stupefied!

    The glaring omission I found in your article, perhaps your “unfettered love for your city” has overshadowed the stark reality of another gruesome face of the city. Recently I read an article “Sex tourism of Arabs” in which it is described that Arab frequent Hyderabad for marrying the girls for four weeks, through the mediators, and pay some amount for them as well to the parents and after a “Talaqnama” ditch them!

    It is onus on the writer to include a depiction of the both faces of a coin to offer a complete vision of it. This is what I feel….

    ………………….Shashikant.P.Dabade

    Like

  2. Pingback: The Fear And Thrill Of Turning 27 | The Mind Travelogues

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