Here is a city that messes around like a home; that lets you get under its skin, into its secret sanctuaries. A city so drenched in infatuated love; an image for flights of fantasies, the mayhem of agony, indigence and ugliness. A city that worries you for all the joy it offers.A city of never demanded obeisance, but downright addictive indeed.
Belong to a city where local trains chase even the last bit of sunlight. Watch itself unfolding in both the sides of your compartment. Cheer the boys and girls, naked, soaked from head to toe from a fresh bath along the tracks. Look for the creased skin of hand in the handles above, wearing dark green bangles mostly, confused by pale gold ones in between. You might also find those glossy, second-copy watches they buy from Colaba causeway. Glance down for worn out shoes bought with all his passion from CST fashion street. Please stomach the smell of the fish that break through from Mahim station. It is the Koli woman sorting out fishes inside the luggage compartment. Do not miss the islands of green along the tracks of harbour line. No, do not give that boring amusement about spotting lush in this city. As having emerged from the sea, this city is so damn full of sensory overloads!
Retreat to a city that gives you the surprise of a sudden rain, the drama of suddenly darkened skies; to a city that rises when the sun sets. A city that wants you to slow down even at the heart of its busy bee-ness, to find your space and to own it selfishly. But don’t go mad when the 2 am police bang their lathis on the seawall to keep you on move from Marine drive, it is just a ritual. They don’t want you to leave. They want you to stay and take a lungful of the sea with you, so does the city!