Travelogue to Mumbai

Travelogue to Mumbai

In 2015, I made the decision to embark on a journey to India. I searched for affordable and reliable airline agencies and ultimately settled on Iran Air for a five-day tour of Mumbai. I was excited to experience the adventure and diversity that awaited me. Before my trip, my perception of India was largely shaped by Indian films and actors, with vivid images of mass dances and popular stars like Amitabh Bachchan and Aishwarya Rai dominating my thoughts. However, I was eager to witness the real India with my own eyes.

 

After a three-hour flight, I arrived at the modern Chhatrapati Airport without issue. It was outside the airport where my adventure truly began, with a plethora of taxis available to take me to my hotel. I had four options to choose from, each with a different price: bus, tricycle, motorized tricycle (tuk-tuk), and taxi. The bus was full and the taxi did not appeal to me, so I opted for a motorized tricycle for two reasons: first, because it provided a canopy of shade in the hot Mumbai air, and second, because it promised a more exhilarating experience than the other options.

 

As my trip progressed, I found myself becoming increasingly acclimated to the conditions of Mumbai. One day, while exploring the neighborhood of Juhu by the sea, I encountered a variety of sights and smells that were strange. There was dirt and junk everywhere, and the air was thick with the smell of decay and urine. I observed people showering on the side of the street, a man pouring his urine into a glass, and even someone using the sea water to wash after urinating.

 

Despite this, I also witnessed a family happily sharing food and women going about their business without a care in the world. I took out some cookies from my backpack and gave them to the children, which led to a conversation with the father of the family. He was thin and weak, and seemed to know little beyond producing children. However, he was eager to talk to me and even pointed out his house on the side of the sidewalk. It was then that I realized that in India, some people are born, live, and die on the street.

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