Written by Rebecca Firegrave on Sunday the 16th of January 2011
Mumbai, India. Holy cow! Be prepared for the madness.
People everywhere and cars - so many cars - like a car factory with a bottle neck problem. All driving to their own personal rules of - he who pulls out first has right of way. And they'll beep to let you know. And to tell you they're coming. And to tell you they're going - to tell you you're in their way - you're not in their way - and sometimes just for the hell of it. i think. People and rickshaws, bright colours on a dust canvas, buildings of dreams and slums of nightmares all form part of Mumbai's rich tapestry.
Amongst the mayhem.
there are some
While cars beep and men shout (are they angry or just saying hello) and the stinging heat produces little rivers from your forehead to your neck that nestle beneath your clothes as you wonder about the usefulness of reality coming with a pause button.
The surrounding chaos doesn't bother them, nor do thoughts . How I'd love to know what does drift through their heads as they stand at ease with everything. Themselves, their environment and their now. I don't know. But I'd imagine that it is something like the sea. It sways to and fro at the will of an external breeze. Sound is rhythmic and soothing and ripples create ripples create ripples. If a thought worth catching rolls in with the tide, they might ride it, like a natural born surfer. If they miss it, they don't look back, the sea produces many. Each take you somewhere, and where - it doesn't matter. For there, wherever that may be, will be more ripples and more waves and the purest perfection.
But no time to think about that if you're mid-traffic jam in Mumbai and the driver has just slammed on the breaks to swerve around some animal standing still in the middle of the road with nothing on it's mind but eternal peace. and perhaps the sea. Holy cow! In India, they really are.