
Mumbai woman recalls heartfelt encounter with stranger on father's death anniversary
She asked for his number, but he waved it off. 'Chill, don't stress. Pay me later,' the man told her.'Twenty minutes later, he gently nudged me - 'Station aa gaya hai.' I asked again for his number. He refused. I kept insisting because it felt wrong not to repay a stranger. He wouldn't budge. 'It's okay, don't worry, you're like a daughter to me. You must be getting late for work, go fast.' All I could do was say thank you and walk away.'The woman admitted that city life often wears her down. 'I am so, so tired from this city sometimes. The endless traffic, the potholes, the rains that start and stop when you least want them to. Sometimes, it feels like this city hates me,' she wrote.'A girl so much an outsider, it might as well be stamped on my forehead. This so-called city of dreams. Just when I feel like Mumbai might swallow me whole and I'd disappear like I never existed, it holds me again,' the woman said in her now-viral post. She recalled others who've stepped in when she needed them most. The old woman at the station who smiles at her every day. The ladies in the train who took her to the doctor when she fainted. The woman who shared her umbrella. The bus driver who held up traffic just so she could board.And today, the man who told her she reminded him of his daughter.'This is what Mumbai is. Not its financial district or overpriced cafs or homes that cost a kidney. It's the people who hold your hand when you're falling apart. It's the people who treat you like family and make you believe in life again,' the woman said. advertisement'God knows I'm an outsider in this city. I still can't speak Marathi. But sometimes, God shows up in the faces of the people walking fast on Mumbai's streets,' she said while concluding her post. Take a look at the post below:Social media users shared their own experiences in the comments section of the post. 'Our people are what make this city. Some bad apples exist, sure, but most will help without blinking. That's just how we are,' a user said. Another user said, 'This is what Mumbai feels like if you can look beyond the broken roads and high rent. We may not speak the same languages, but we always understand each other.''He didn't help you just because you're a girl. He likely sensed you were genuine. You asking again and again to repay him proved your heart was in the right place,' one of the users said. A user said, 'The same thing happened to me in Mumbai. It was raining, autos were scarce, and a woman with her son gave me a ride in theirs without asking for money. That's what I love about this place.'advertisementMumbai, a city often painted as indifferent, sometimes does more than move; it reaches out. Stories like this quietly prove it.- Ends
Hashtags

Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles


Time of India
4 hours ago
- Time of India
Jhalee fame Pratham Kunwar on his friendship with actress Neha Khan says, 'We share a very comfortable and deep bond'
Television actor Pratham Kunwar, who currently plays the titular role of Nirvair in the show, Jhalee Ki Kahani, feels Friendship is something to nurture and celebrate. He shares about his closest friend, Neha Khan , an actress by profession and says, "Neha and I have been friends for almost a decade now. We first met at an audition back in 2014–15 — it was for a Marathi film. She was new to the city, having come from Amravati, and I had just started out in the industry. Coincidentally, we both got selected for the same film (Gurukul), and that's where our friendship began." He continues, "Since then, we've got along really well and become very close — she's almost like family to me. She knows all my secrets, and I know hers too (haha!). We share a very comfortable and deep bond. Even though she got busy with her Marathi films and shows, and I moved into TV, we've always stayed in touch. She lives close to my place, so we meet quite often and celebrate most festivals together — Ganpati, Diwali, Eid — all of them" Speaking about his ongoing show, he shared that the narrative centers around two inseparable best friends — Jhalee (played by Apeksha Malviya), who is cheerful and full of life, and Amrit (portrayed by Isha Kaloya), who is more grounded and thoughtful. The story follows their closely connected lives as both of them unexpectedly fall in love with the same man, Nirvair (played by Pratham), setting the stage for an emotional and dramatic journey. The actor highlights the comparison between love and friendship. He shared, "When there's a strong friendship between two people and a third person enters the equation in the form of love, it's natural for that love to feel a bit insecure or jealous seeing that bond. by Taboola by Taboola Sponsored Links Sponsored Links Promoted Links Promoted Links You May Like Real-Time Conversations in 68 Languages? AI Just Made It Possible Enence 2.0 Undo It can create some discomfort too. But I believe that's also important — because if your partner feels a little possessive or uncomfortable seeing your friendship, it means they genuinely care for you. It shows that your bond matters to them." "In fact, that's a good sign — but at the same time, love should also learn to respect and accept genuine friendships. Sometimes, love entering the equation can ruin the friendship between two people. But I feel, if that happens, then maybe that love wasn't right for you in the first place — because the one who truly loves you will understand and value your friendships too. In my show jhallee also you will see the same," he concluded. On professional front, Pratham was previously seen playing the titular role of Rishi in TV show Beti Hamari Anmol, and also appeared in shows like 'Guddan - Tumse Na Ho Paayega', 'Yeh Hai Chahatein', 'Meet: Badlegi Duniya Ki Reet', 'Rajjo' He also acted in mythological series like Mahakali - Anth Hi Aarambh Hai, Vighnaharta Ganesha and Siya Ke Ram. TV celebs who married their co-stars


NDTV
7 hours ago
- NDTV
NDTV Exclusive: April May 99 Producer Jogesh Bhutani On How The Film Captures The Magic Of The 90s
New Delhi: It would not be an exaggeration to say that April May 99 is one of the best Marathi films of the year. Directed by Rohan Mapuskar, the film hit cinema screens in May. Featuring Yogesh Bandagle, Saee Bramhe, Smital Chavan and Sajiri Joshi, the film beautifully captures the fun, joy and experiences of the 90s era. Recently, the project's producer, Jogesh Bhutani, spoke to NDTV and shared how April May 99 is a project that encourages audiences to relive their childhood. He said, 'I liked the story of this film and decided to make it.' The producer added, 'I have also lived through such childhood memories. This film shows how important it is to cherish our friends and these beautiful memories in today's world of mobile phones and the internet. Therefore, this film must be watched." So, what exactly is the story of April May 99? It revolves around the summer vacation months of April and May – those carefree days when everyone eagerly looked forward to visiting their maternal grandparents' village. April May 99 narrates the story of four friends – Krishna, Prasad, Siddhesh and Jai – and their unforgettable summer vacation. The three boys befriend Jai, a girl who speaks fluent English, with the hope of learning the language from her. Their parents even encourage them, saying, "Show Jai our village, and in the process, you will learn English from her." With Jai's entry, the trio of Krishna, Prasad and Siddhesh becomes a close-knit group of four. And this is where their beautiful story begins to unfold. In addition to Yogesh Bandagle, Saee Bramhe, Smital Chavan and Sajiri Joshi, April May 99 also features Akshata Kambali, Raviraj Kande, Manthan Kanekar, Ananda Karekar, Sumant Kelkar, Gauri Kiran, Aaryan Menghji and Rajashri Potdar. April May 99 has been written by Rohan Mapuskar, Bimal Oberoi and Kunal Pawar.


Indian Express
7 hours ago
- Indian Express
With Shah Rukh Khan winning his maiden National Award, the jury surprisingly showed both spine and sense. But what about us?
Let's begin, as all things must, by nodding to the elephant in the room. The National Awards have long lost their credibility. Long lost the prestige. Long lost the reputation. Each year, the jury, God bless their evolving standards, manages to tunnel into new depths of bafflement. The recognition, once rooted in artistic merit, now contorts, year after year, into state-sponsored storytelling. If you thought The Kashmir Files winning one for 'national integration' was the punchline, wait till you hear, The Kerala Story just swept in and bagged two major technical awards this year. So no, it's no longer provocative to say the awards have lost their sheen. It's redundant to call it a fall from grace when grace left the chat years ago. There's no room left to host the elephant because the audience left the building, the walls crumbled, and the roof caved in somewhere around the time taste became optional. And yet, just as we were bracing for another dive into the surreal, something almost revolutionary happened. The same institution that has long mistaken subservience for selection suddenly remembered what it felt like to have a spine, as it awarded Shah Rukh Khan his maiden National Award. It is, of course, surprising, almost absurd in retrospect, that in a career spanning 33 years, this is Shah Rukh Khan's first Best Actor win at the National Awards. But what shocked the purists, the cinephiles, the bystanders, the netizens, was not that he won, but what he won it for…Jawan. Not Swades. Not Chak De India. Not Devdas. Not My Name Is Khan. Not even Kabhi Haan Kabhi Naa, that little gem he gave the world before the world knew what to do with him. So the moment the announcement dropped on a Friday evening, the internet, predictably, lost its mind. X, Instagram, Facebook, WhatsApp groups, suddenly, everywhere, everyone had a take. The question bouncing across timelines and keyboards was: Really? For this one? And, to be fair, they had a point. In a just world, he might have won for all of those films. He should have. As a fan, if the decision were mine, he'd already be five statues deep by now. But that's not how awards work. And, more importantly, that's not how they should work. What began to grate, though, wasn't the criticism. That's par for the course. What irked me was how the entire discourse, almost subconsciously, kept circling one tired idea: that for a performance to be considered 'award-worthy,' it must belong to a certain mold. A certain register. A certain kind of emotion. More specifically, that a performance is only truly great when it is subtle. That it must be internal, contained, minimal. And sure, all of that can be true. Those are real barometers. Valid ones. Beautiful ones even. But what about maximalism as a style? What about performances that are expansive and expressive? What about sometimes liking projection over reflection? What about sometimes rooting for raw energy over internal suffering? Why do we pretend those can't be just as powerful? Why do we keep acting like the only kind of great acting is the kind that hides itself? A post shared by Shah Rukh Khan (@iamsrk) It's almost a contradictory stance. Because, let's be honest, most of our films, by definition, lean more on sentiment than sense. By design, they're loud, emotional, and often built around a star playing an extended, mythic version of himself. Flamboyance isn't just accepted, it's expected out of our mainstream movies. It's what we buy into. It's what we enjoy when done right. So then, if star acting is so baked into the DNA of our storytelling, why don't we recognise it? Or rather, forget recognition, why don't we celebrate it enough? Isn't being external, visible, heightened just as difficult as being internal and restrained? In fact, I'd argue it's even harder. Because with that kind of performance, you never quite know where the line is, where it stops being compelling and starts becoming exaggerated. Or what we lazily brush off as 'overacting.' And the truth is, the reason we haven't seen much great star acting in recent years isn't because the style has aged out, it's because not everyone can pull it off. It requires a particular kind of presence, a particular kind of projection and a particular kind control over craft. And no, it's not easy. It never was. It never will be. Also Read | Prithviraj snubbed at National Awards: Jury chairperson Ashutosh Gowariker felt performance was 'inauthentic' It's not about pitting one style of acting against another. It's about understanding that both can be equally significant, equally skilled, and equally moving. And that's where, God really bless them, the jury seems to have understood something the rest of us often forget. Because if you look at the last few years, the choices speak for themselves. Allu Arjun for Pushpa, a masterclass in flamboyance. Rishab Shetty for Kantara, an earthy, and wildly physical portrayal. Alia Bhatt for Gangubai Kathiawadi, an emotionally-charged performance with some operatic flourishes. And then there is also Vikrant Massey for 12th Fail, an internalised affair showing just how high restraint can soar. If anything, these choices prove that both ends of the spectrum deserve recognition. That one doesn't cancel out the other. That maximalism and minimalism can, and should, coexist. Which is why their decision to choose Jawan feels not just deserved, but also smart. Because Jawan is one of the very few massy vehicles in recent memory that actually got it right. And a huge part of that is because of Shah Rukh Khan. The performance is all swagger and style. Every second scene feels like an entry shot. Every fourth, he's shedding a tear. And every ten minutes, he's kicking someone through the air. It's exaggerated. It's filmy. It's myth-making at its loudest. But it's also magnetic. It's moving. It's Shah Rukh Khan reminding you what a star performance can look like when it's done right. It's also fitting that he's getting it for Jawan, because it's the most political he's ever been on screen. He recognises what we once were as a country, and what we still ought to be. He recognises what this country has given him, and understands that now, it's his turn to give back. So maybe the real elephant in the room… is him. It's him, in that final scene, breaking not just the fourth wall, but every wall built on fear and apathy. It's him, asking the audience to look harder, to question more, to think before they choose. It's him, firmly pushing back against every form of bigotry, hate, and erasure. It's him, then, reminding even the jury, what courage looks like. God truly bless him.