Bombay, as I always knew it and refer it, was the city of my birth, my childhood and some of the best memories any child could have experienced. I say this because, India is a great place for kids to grow up. I could not have traded growing up in Bombay for any other experience, at any age, ever.

We were kids and our environment allowed us to remain so.

20 years since I left, I am not sure what has become of my city. I know they changed the name to Mumbai. It may not be the swankiest, cleanest, hippest, glitziest or even close to being on average a sophisticated city on earth, but it is very human, very loving and very familial. No where will you find caring neighbors, hospitable and concerned folks like you would in Bombay.

What did the terrorists gain? A few lives. Some release of restrained anger. What is their cause? Why is this necessary?

I can’t speak much. I do not have any answers.

Although, I left the chaos of Bombay, that little fella named Shilu is still there playing cricket somewhere in one of the city’s crowded fields, climbing the complex walls and rolling over dirt with a bright smile on his innocent face, in all of his childhood glory.

I pray for the people of Bombay and the guests of my city, who lost their loved ones. That is the only power I have. To pray!

RIP