If New York is the city that never sleeps,
Then Mumbai must be the city that never rests.
Everything about this place is busy: the people, the traffic, the smells, the sounds… it is a perpetual hustle and bustle of activity. You notice the quiet instants, because they are so few and far between. Honking here is equivalent to the most basic communication between drivers, rickshaws, people on bicycles and pedestrians. There are sidewalks, but they go mostly deserted, perhaps because they sometimes resemble a war zone of cracks and uneven treads.
I meandered the streets for a few hours yesterday, both to and from work, in search of the tastiest looking street food. Even on a full stomach, every 4 or 5 street corner will bring a waft of something delicious. I’ve found it proves quite rewarding to follow your nose.
On my way home I strayed from my route and ended up in a covered slum, which I surmise was home to a Muslim community. While looking for an exit I almost stumbled into a Mosque; with various hand signs and a look of utter dismay on the poor man’s face, I was made to understand that I could not enter, and directed towards a dark tunnel of an alleyway, where women in niqab eyed me suspiciously. I finally found the light, and navigated my trusty GPS home.