I still remember the first time I went to visit The Gateway Of India and was awed by its grandeur. But what caught my instant attention was the beautiful Taj Mahal hotel. The heritage building with its delicate and intricate architecture facing the violently surging Arabian Sea left a lasting impression.
The place for me is a symbol of opulence and grandeur. It is not just another passive structure to pose for photographs. It represents the spirit of lakhs of Indians who come to Mumbai with nothing but a dream. It instills in them the confidence to dream big. It’s the only place which is ardently adored by both the elite and the indigent. It has always been a dream for me to reach a level when I can proudly go inside the place. It epitomized the celebration of my fulfilled dreams.
But today, when I switch on the television and watch the images of the place up in flames, coldness grips me. It makes me numb. I can no longer relate to it. The sense of insecurity and uncertainty overwhelms me. It’s like my paradise is in flames. Strangely, I feel guilty too.
The place for me is a symbol of opulence and grandeur. It is not just another passive structure to pose for photographs. It represents the spirit of lakhs of Indians who come to Mumbai with nothing but a dream. It instills in them the confidence to dream big. It’s the only place which is ardently adored by both the elite and the indigent. It has always been a dream for me to reach a level when I can proudly go inside the place. It epitomized the celebration of my fulfilled dreams.
But today, when I switch on the television and watch the images of the place up in flames, coldness grips me. It makes me numb. I can no longer relate to it. The sense of insecurity and uncertainty overwhelms me. It’s like my paradise is in flames. Strangely, I feel guilty too.
