People have often asked me – What is Pune like? I have fumbled for an answer, always. It is really so difficult to describe the city.
Pune is like a late teenager – kept awake late into the night in the eager anticipation that something is big is about to happen. Who wakes up at departing dawn, with panic thudding in the heart and the unshakeable feeling that she had missed something while she slept.
Pune does not know where to belong. Whether her place is up there, where the lights shine so bright that stars pale in comparison, almost afraid to display their meager show of twinkling light? Where the sky changes robes to an unseeing audience, just because the show must go on! Where laughter rankles like chains on youth who crave for a freedom they didn’t know existed, but believe the illusion they live to be the real freedom instead.
Or maybe she belongs to places where cloudless skies house an open night? Where parrots were not pets but a part of a natural wilderness. Where nights meant lazy stretches after a day of sweating toil. Where mankind nestled into the bosom of nature ignorant and oblivious to the opportunity of technology.
Little does Pune know, that it carves for itself a unique place. She does not belong anywhere, nothing defines her variations. She is an identity by herself. Just like that teenager who walks confused, but determined, on the road which weathers her into a unique existence.
That my friends, is Pune...