Bandra has the amazing quality of making you feel rather important, like you are bang in the middle of it all. "I'm in Bandra". One single phrase meant so many things if you said it to a stranger. It could either mean that you're very wealthy and can afford to live there. It can mean that though you are not wealthy, somewhere somehow your parents are and they have funded the insane deposit to your 150 sq feet flat with the bathroom in which you can fit a two year old's bum. It sometimes can mean that you're not wealthy at all and are sharing a one hall kitchen in Chuim Village near Lilavati with four other struggling models, but will still mean that atleast your social life is not the cul de sac that is the Andheri Mumbaikars.
I work in Bandra. And I claim ownership to that title like it is going out of fashion "I'm in Bandra, I'm in Bandra, I'm in Bandra". It’s a rhetoric I muttered to anyone, even if I was at home in Andheri. Even if one of my poor fellow Andheri friends called me up to come over to pop tates for a princely meal, I’d still say it ; "I'm in Bandra" Nice and Slow, let the R curl around my tongue and slide down my gullet like honey.
Now, the only time I didn’t say it was when I was in Town.
Ah Town. Elusive, untouchable, desirable, art décor Town.
Bombay to me is very simply defined in biblical terms - North Bombay is Hell, Bandra is Purgatory and Town is Heaven, the Golden Ages, The Elysian fields themselves. Being in town feels like getting bail out of a truly heinous crime.