International Mumbai: My favorite part of the day

Note: All photos are way below.
I suppose I am not writing as much this summer because I am only in India for a short amount of time. So I am spending my time doing other things. I have a standard routine: wake up at 6:45 A.M., go running, get to work by 9:15 A.M. via Arnav’s father and his driver, work until 5:30 more or less, go exploring or watch the sunset (before the rains hit), sit in traffic for an hour and a half, and then get home exhausted and ready to eat dinner precisely at 8:30 p.m., watch a movie, hang out with Arnav’s friends, and go to bed.

There is one part of the day that I absolutely love. And that is the drive from work to home or wherever I may be going. I always take a cab. Before the rains hit it took me about 45 minutes to get home, costing me $5. The windows are always rolled down and the wind blows in your face. If I don't go right home after work, then I go to a park. Either way, I take the Sea Link, which is a roadway. This connects Bandra (where I work) to South Mumbai (where I live). It was recently built and makes the commute an hour quicker. After sitting in the office all day, it is nice to have the hot Mumbai air blowing in your face. When getting on the sea link, these rickety old cabs drive as fast as they possibly can. The wind gusts are incredibly strong, and the cab driver is usually in a war with the wind, which is quite powerful when you are driving on the Sea Link, which is one, long bridge. I have often thought that the wind will just pick up the cab and plop it right down in the middle of the ocean, but the cab drivers have a lot of practice. I listen to music on this “long” drive home, and most of the time it is peppy, upbeat Bollywood music.

There are three spots on my drive home where people always approach my car and I get asked to buy books, magazines, flowers, or food. The magazine sellers are the best. They point to the cover of India VOGUE saying, “Madame, you are very much beautiful, but you too could like this.” Thank you? The booksellers currently have the The Fault in Our Stars in their pile of six or seven books. The men say, “Madame, your eyes beautiful. Blue. Like the stars. You want The Fault in Our Stars?” I do not know how much these go for because I have never even asked. I often get frustrated with the magazine and book sellers, who are usually men in their twenties and thirties and always go through each of their products by complimenting me in some way or another. They all have the same speech and will sit at my taxi, trying to yell at me through my headphones and over the honking, until the stoplight turns green.

Arnav’s father once told me a true story about a famous author who came to Mumbai for a book signing. From the airport to the hotel, the author saw a boy walking from car to car selling six or seven books. One of the books was the author's own. The author asked how much the boy wanted for the book and was told $2.00. And of course the author bought his own book for much cheaper than he could have found it anywhere else in the world.

The only time I have ever bought something from one of these sellers is when I heard a little girl say, “Ma’am, Ma’am” in a high pitched voice. I kept telling myself, “Don’t look, don’t look, don’t look.” But of course, I looked. I could only see the tip of her head and an arm reaching above the window holding mogras (which are strings of white flowers) above the window. I brought my body to the other side of the cab to peek my head over the window to see her face. Her eyes looked shocked as I came over the window and she saw me. I immediately caved, asking her in Hindi how much they cost. She responded in her high squeaky voice “Panch rupees,” or five rupees. The deal was done. Mogras are really nice, and if you hang them from the air conditioning, they make your room smell excellent.

Once I get off the Sea Link, I spend ten or fifteen minutes looking out the window watching people sit on the stone wall and admiring the view from the sea. From Indian tourists taking photos, to couples enjoying time by themselves, I find myself people watching like a mad woman. I especially enjoy watching the couples demonstrate PDA, as if no one is around and it is only the sun, the view, and the two of them. I was quite shocked the first time I saw this because for a long time this was a national no-no, but it again shows the progression of India and the change in the culture.

From this spot, we drive through a slum and a vegetable market and then past Barclays of India, followed by the most famous mosque in Mumbai and then finally a Jaguar/Range Rover auto dealership. Weird, huh?

I get out of the cab, paying the cab driver around $4.50-$5.00 and enter Priya Darshin Park, which is the biggest area of green space I have seen in Mumbai. I sit on the rocks and watch the sunset. It is nice to get fresh air and have some quiet time after feeling cramped in the bustling city. The view is absolutely beautiful and sometimes if the waves are really big you get some droplets of polluted ocean water splashed all over you. There is a collection of rocks that seem to have been made to be a relaxing seat. I think I have reserved that spot for myself every day at 6:45 P.M., after I spend an hour with my head out the window doing what I do best: people watching and analyzing the culture around me.

Sending you polluted sunsets from India,

Hannah Dobie