mumbai in the indie traveler’s backpack

woke up to another day where the air smells like fried samosas and exhaust fumes. honestly can’t tell if that’s the city’s charm or just bad luck. i checked and it’s 24.57 right now, which is whatever. i’ve seen 25, 22, 27, but this just feels like one of those days where time forgets to move. maybe the heat here has me losing track of basic math.

so yeah, i’m here, like everyone else. or maybe not everyone. i’ve heard rumors about people who pretend to be tourists but are actually just avoiding their jobs. heard that from a guy at a café who was probably distracted by a half-eaten dosa. or was it a chicken tikka wrap? can’t remember. didn’t ask. sometimes it’s better that way.

i didn’t plan to take so many photos but here we are.

maybe i’m just obsessed with that old red bus that keeps driving itself through the chaos. or maybe i’m just tired. either way, it’s photogenic enough to merit at least three shots.

the weather here is a vibe. not the ’i-forgot-to-mention-this-when-i-planned’ vibe, but the ’this-is-the-city’s-way-of-being-awkward-with-you’ vibe. if you’d asked me a week ago, i’d have said this place was overrated. now i’m just here, sweating slightly while drinking water that tastes like regret. someone told me that the humidity here is like kissing a grandma in a sauna. don’t ask me to confirm because i’m not in a position to lie about it.

neighbors? more like kind of neighbors. i mean, if you’re walking past the same rickshaw driver who judges your life choices every morning, that’s a vibe. or that old man who sells mangoes from a cloth at 7 am every single day. he doesn’t care if you’ve been here three times. he knows your name now. or maybe he hasn’t. who can tell?

i heard that the local markets close early on fridays. seen it spread like wildfire through the hostel community. some guy in a neon t-shirt swore by it, said the vendors are generous with leftovers. i haven’t confirmed it, but i’m adding it to my buyer’s list just in case. also, there’s a story about a guy who tried to take a fancy photo at the garden of india and got chased by a group of teenagers with spoons. not sure if true, but it’s fun to imagine.

i’ve seen reviews online that call this place ‘overwhelming’ or ‘soulful.’ whatever. i’m here for the unpredictable. walked into a bookstore by accident and bought a dhoti without thinking. also forgot to pay for a chapati. it’s just another monday. or tuesday. or whatever day this is.

the neighbors here are loud but in a good way. or maybe a bad way. depends on if you’re trying to sleep or just vibing. heard that the people living near the train tracks actually sleep with their windows open. not sure if that’s wise, but hey, who am i to judge?

someone warned me that the street food here is amazing but also a potential health hazard. take that as you will. i ate something from a cart that looked like it was invented by a mad scientist and survived. maybe that’s the real key to enjoying this city. embrace the chaos, right?

looking for a place to stay with decent wifi and a view of something not completely destroyed by construction. heard that a hostel near the city wall has that. not sure if it’s accurate, but i placed a tip on the TripAdvisor page anyway. also messaged a guy on Yelp who claimed to own a café with a rooftop that’s basically a secret. didn’t get a reply yet, but at least i left a question about coffee. and i’m a coffee snob. don’t tell anyone.

if you get bored, the seashore is a short drive away. or maybe it’s an hour. definitely not a minute. either way, it’s there. maybe next time. for now, i’m here with a plate of vada pav and a playlist of Bombay hip-hop. it’s 8 pm. or 8 am. time’s relative here.

the people here are… existing. not in a deep way, just existing. like the city. they’ll give you a free refill of masala chai if you mention the weather. or maybe they’ll ignore you. same energy. same weirdness. maybe that’s what makes it work.

i just checked another review. it said that the traffic here is a character. like, a full-blown character in a soap opera. i’m 60% sure that someone actually wrote that about me last week. either way, it’s true. when you’re walking between attractions, you become part of the show. no need for costumes. your face is the costume.

i guess this place is just… messy. in the best way. i didn’t plan any of this. i just showed up and the city handed me a script. maybe it’s not perfect. maybe i’m not perfect. but we’re both low on sleep and high on caffeine. works for me.

p.s. if you’re reading this, thanks for scrolling. if you’re also a coffee snob, drop a line about your favorite brew. i’ll add you to my imaginary list of people who understand.