This page really is not about the City of Bombay.
This city I live in is supposedly the financial and trade capital of the country. But this page is not about finance or trade.
Bombay is one of the most populated cities of the world. But this is not about its people.
This is where the biggest Indian stars live. But this is not about Bollywood.
This city has some amazing sights. But this is not about classy scenes.
This is a city which has some of the most beautiful heritage structures. But this is not about architecture.
I have one of the best digital cameras. But this is not about aperture, shutter speed, ambient light or ISO settings.
This is not about beautiful sunsets. Not about Plush lawns. Not about colourful flowers. Not about statues. Not about a wrinkled old man begging for food. Not about the contrasting lives of the rich and the poor. Not about popular landmarks we know. This is not about Mani-Rathnamesque pictures. Not art, not photography.
Indeed, it really is not about Bombay. Or its people.
It is about common sights that tell stories. If you only care to take notice. It is about the way the stories affect you. If you only care to let them.
This is about what a finger did, of a person who allowed himself to notice, who allowed himself to be affected. This is about those very incredible stories that got trapped till the end of time when the finger pushed a metal click button by 4 millimeters.
This is about the Bombay that is evident in the story.
This page is about the Bombay in the people.
And while the finger jerked downwards by those 4mm to trap that story, if its owner inadvertently clicked a Mani-Rathnamesque, arty picture, or clicked an amazing architecture, or a classy sunset, then please accept an apology from me.
That was not my intention.