Mumbai, Here I Come

The tall and slender stewardess dressed in Indian kurti inspected the passenger seatbelts one by one and reminded them to fasten the seatbelt. Within fifteen minutes, the plane of Air India carrying passengers from New York to Mumbai would ground at Chhatrapati Shivaji International Airport. A few minutes ago the captain's voice heard from the speaker announcing that they were above Mumbai.

In the economy class row, on seat 17F, next to the window, there was a girl with a smile on her face, looking out the window. She seemed to observe the megapolitan city from her seat. Skyscrapers were scattered below. Mixed with other small buildings, which were so tight and dense. Unlike Boston, the city where she lived for 4 years, the buildings were so classy and covered with glass even though the population was less, but Mumbai, looked more simple and a bit monotonous.

But she didn't care, after all Mumbai was her hometown. The city she was born and raised. Mumbai in all its realities was much more pleasant than Boston or even New York.

Zoya Bipasha Vijayalakshmi, the name of the girl. Despite her modest make-up like a typical Indian girl, and sitting in an economy chair, she is the daughter of Narendra Prasadh, Mumbai's number 8 richest businessman, and was on the top ten list across India, according to Forbes. You could certainly imagine among India's 1.3 billion population, her father was in the top ten. But none of the passengers on the plane knew that she was the daughter of a tycoon.

Narendra Prasadh had a core business in the textile industry with the aim of exporting almost all over the world. In addition, he also had real estate businesses in Mumbai, Bangalore, Chennai and New Delhi. And in the last five years the business had begun to penetrate the jewelry store network in almost all major cities of India.

Zoya was the eldest of three sibling. She would be the successor to the leadership of the Vishaya Group. Later, in her hands the Vishaya Group will be handed over.

Actually, Zoya had an older brother if only he was still alive. But he died in a traffic accident when he was eighteen. His expensive sport car as a gift for his seventeenth birthday, was smashed to pieces in an illegal racing in one of Mumbai's most elite street corners.

Since Abhishek's death, Narendra Prasadh understood that loving children did not mean having to fulfill all their wishes. If they were overwhelmed with all the goods made them spoiled and reckless. It was enough Abhishek his failure in educating children. Since then the way he raised his children changed one hundred and eighty degrees.

Narendra knew that his daughter would be able to run his business someday if he resigned from his business empire. He educated his children very hard, unlike other Crazy Rich Indians. To Abishek's siblings, he nurtured them in a simple way, like other middle-class parents. Not a single world-class branded goods attached to their bodies. If he wanted to, of course he could buy his children all of that, as easy as flicked his fingers. But hell no, he only gave his children according to their needs. The proof, Zoya is now in the economy class, not in business class or first class. During her studying in America she rarely came home, only twice a year.

The roar of the plane's engine sounded thunderous. The longer the altitude decreased, and the view below was getting clearer. Now she is above Dharavi, the largest slum area in the world with an area of ​​​​no more than 2 square kilometers inhabited by more than a million people. How crowded people are there.

Zoya couldn't wait to set foot in Mumbai. From a distance the airport runway began to appear. The parked planes looked so small, the airport buildings were only as big as matchboxes.

More than seventeen hours on the plane made her body became stiff, but she ignored it. Later, when she got home she would sleep for a while to unwind. The message she received was that she would be picked up by Rajesh Kumar, her father's trusted bodyguard.

Rajesh Kumar, a 36-year-old man and father of two. he had been working with Zoya family Since he was young, and he was typically a man who din't talk much but professional at work. Zoya still remembered she was 10 years old at that time. That means Rajesh had been working for 12 years.

Soon the plane was ready to land and enter the runway. There was a squeak of the plane's wheels colliding with the runway followed by a slight shaking but still smooth when touched down. The plane continued to run at a slightly slower speed. There was a warning for passengers to remain in their seats with seatbelts still attached until the plane came to a complete stop. Within minutes the plane entered the international arrivals terminal.

Zoya took a deep breath and exhaled it slowly. Relieved. Finally arrived after traveling all day.

Mumbai, Here I come! She hissed slowly.

Four years in Boston, really made her missed Mumbai. Not only with beloved family, but also with the bustling atmosphere, better food, and of course with the people.

Boston may excel at everything, but Mumbai remains in her heart. Doesn't everyone always miss their hometown even though other countries are much better and beautiful? That's how she felt. Boston was quite a city to study but not to live forever. She didn't fit into the city, even though she finished Business School at a top university there. And this was her last return after graduated. Came home with summa cum laude predicate.

Getting off the plane she would take deep breaths, trying to get as much Mumbai air into her lungs as she could. People say Mumbai's air is dangerous in the world, but she didn't care. She really enjoyed the sensation.

Two flight attendants stood at the exit of the plane, saying farewell to every passenger who got out, including Zoya. The girl nodded. Impatiently she jogged towards the baggage claim. She was the first in the area, waiting for her luggage to come out. She checked her phone to see if there was a message from Rajesh Kumar. When turn on the gadget, there was an incoming message notification immediately. Sure enough, the man was already waiting for her at the exit.

After picking up the baggage, Zoya walked to the immigration counter for Indian nationals, and handed over her passport. The female immigration officer looked at the photo on the passport with her real self for a moment, slightly raising an eyebrow.

"I think I know you, Miss Zoya!" the woman said kindly.

"Oh yeah? How do you know me?" Zoya asked with a smile. But the immigration officer shook her head as she waved her hand.

"Oh, forget it!" she replied and continued her work. When she was done, she handed the passport to Zoya and smiled.

"Welcome to Mumbai. Thank you."

Zoya received her document and replied,

"You're welcome!" she passed.

The terminal looked magnificent as grand as its name. The white poles that blend with the ceiling looked so exotic and futuristic. She briefly compared this airport with the airport in New York. Obviously she admitted, Mumbai airport was no less flashy. At the exit so many people were waiting for passengers.

A hefty man like a bodyguard waved and called her name among the pickers who had gathered in front of the exit gate. He seemed to brake out and get rid of those who stood in his way. Due to his hefty body, he easily charged forward. The people he elbowed couldn't do anything to see Rajesh's figure. They just grumbled and cursed in their hearts.

Zoya stopped her walk and turned towards the source of the voice. She smiled to see Rajesh's reckless behavior towards people. Her head swung slightly left and right. Oh, Uncle Rajesh! Your ferocity had never changed.

Rajesh Kumar greeted Zoya with a firm hand and said,

"Welcome home, Miss Zoya!" he swiftly took over the suitcase that Zoya pushing along with the backpack she carrying. "Your luggage is only like this?"

"How much do you think, Uncle? As much as truckload?" Zoya glared.

"This is your last return. It can't be just one suitcase and one backpack." He still couldn't believe it.

"I only bring home the essentials. Other stuff I left there. I mean, I donated them to the friends there."

Rajesh nodded. He accompanied Zoya's steps towards the parking lot. Ten minutes of walking, they arrived at the parking lot. Cars lined up, countless.

"Your car is over there, Miss Zoya!" said Rajesh pointing to the west, thirty meters from where they were standing.

"Sorry, it's a bit far, I didn't find any vacant places, almost all of them are filled," Rajesh informed.

Zoya was just silent, ignoring him. she walked in the direction Rajesh had pointed at earlier.

An expensive car in Mineral White color stands out among the parked cars. Mostly Indian made like Mahindra, Tata and Maruti are there.

"That's the car," Rajesh said pointing to the BMW. Zoya wrinkled her forehead. The car looked haughty parked there, as if waiting for its owner.

"Whose car is that?" Zoya asked unsure. It was unusual for her to be picked up in that classy car. She remembered that the last time she came home from the US, she was only picked up by a Tata SUV. But now with a sedan that only fits two people.

Rajesh frowned and raised an eyebrow. Surprised by the question the girl asked.

"That's your car, Miss Zoya!" he said trying to convince her. "Your father, bought it a month ago, and only this time used to pick up the owner."

"Dad never said to buy me a new car. He never once mentioned it. Besides, I don't need a car like this," Zoya replied. There was a look of displeasure on her face.

Now, it was Rajesh looked astonished. He can't believe what the young lady said, daughter of Big Master Narendra Prasadh. Normally, a girl would be happy with a luxurious gift from her parents, but this one was not happy.

"Of course this car is useful to support your activities, because I believe you will soon be appointed as President Director," said Rajesh.

"You are thinking too far, it's not that easy Daddy appointed me as a Director in his company. Seemingly you don't know Narendra Prasadh. I'm sure, I was asked to crawl from the bottom first," replied Zoya laughing.

"The best graduate of Business School at the top university in the world, asked to crawl from the bottom? at her own company?"

Zoya nodded. Her feeling said so.

"You're joking!"

"We'll see who's right!" Zoya tossed her hair aside. The wind that blew was hot. It seems she needed to adjust to the Mumbai temperature again. Summer in Boston wasn't this hot.

Zoya knew her Father must have galvanized her first from the bottom. It's not Narendra Prasadh's character that puts his daughter in the highest position at once. And Zoya knew, even though she had perfect academic grades, she still lacked experience.

They had arrived at their destination. Zoya paused for a moment to look at the new luxury-looking vehicle. she gulped, and her gaze looked pathetic.

"This car is not really suitable for Mumbai streets which are insanely congested, like using high heels in the rice fields!"

"Yes, as long as you don't drive it to Swami Vivekananda road!" Rajesh glared. Zoya laughed. For her, all the streets in Mumbai are congested. It takes longer on the road to reach the destination.

But that's not the case. She didn't blame Mumbai's traffic jams. Even though it's been a while in Boston, the traffic jams in Mumbai was ingrained. It was inseparable in life. The sound of loud horns that alternated in every vehicle was deafening, but that was a special pleasure, which was not found in States, but with this car, she felt did not deserve to drive it.

But, yeah, never mind! Maybe it's time to get to grips with driving a luxury car, and it should be!

"Please get into the car, Miss!" Rajesh opened the door for her after putting the suitcase and backpack in the trunk.

Zoya got in. Rajesh shut the car door and walked to the other side and got in the car. In a moment the car started moving out of the parking lot and leaving Chhatrapati Shivaji international airport.

The next two minutes they were silence. The girl's gazed and her thought wasn't even on the car, but out onto the street.

Contrast with Boston, here is so bustling with people with all their activities. Mumbai which had a population of more than 20 million people, so crowded compared to Boston, which is only one-fifth of Mumbai. Even so, this city is so memorable, like the figure of a mother who is always missed.

"We're going to your family's mansion in Juhu," Rajesh said breaking the silence. "They will welcome you there,"

"But I want to go around first. We pass the Sea Link Bridge," Zoya replied.

Rajesh turned his head for a second, unsure of what he was hearing. That means the journey would be longer because they had to turn the car to the south and then west to Juhu. But Zoya's face looked seriously so he didn't ask anymore. He only guessed the girl just missed her homeland or maybe wanted to try out her new car.

"All right, then. As you wish," he said.

The luxury car turned south, and mixed with various types of vehicles that filled the highway. Not long after, their car had disappeared into the crowded streets of Mumbai. All kinds of vehicles were there, from the latest model to bajaj, and taxis and motorcycle. Not to mention the people who passing by in every corner. The scenery was getting more and more chaotic with cars parked haphazardly and merchants lined up on the side of the road.

This was what made Zoya missed the Mumbai situation. Everything that was so orderly as in Boston made her life seemed monotonous and stiff. But here in Mumbai, life feels so much more alive. Just look out there, even though it's hectic, but everyone seems to be struggling with their own business in order to survive and reach their dreams. What a lovely city!