Mumbai’s sidewalks stole my sketchbook (and my patience)
i arrived in mumbai expecting chaos and found a street artist named ramesh who kept insisting the monsoon was ‘just nature’s way of cleaning up.’ i don’t know if he was mad or poetic but his opinion stuck. the heat was 18.74℃, which sounds mild but feels like a damp hug from the universe. i checked the weather mid-painting session and thought, oh right, it’s that kind of consistent weirdness where you either adapt or freeze.
[blockquote]someone told me that the local painters use dairy wood for their canvases, claims it absorbs the city’s vibes[/blockquote]. i didn’t verify this but now i’m buying a wheel of goat cheese to test. theьян index is 29% which is low enough to make me question all my life choices. anyway, the city’s neighbors are either bombay or that weird industrial park down the coast. if you get bored, mumbai’s other side is just a helicopter ride away.
i walked past a boutique called niche threads where a vendor yelled about vintage denim. i didn’t care about denim, but i did care that a stray cat named komplex was napping on the steps. later, i heard a drunk tourist claim the traffic was worse than tokyo. i laughed because i’ve spent 24 hours in a single rented studio and strangers kept asking if i was ‘international.’
[img src="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1660146499127-e5a3c797362b?crop=entropy&cs=tinysrgb&fit=max&fm=jpg&w=1080&q=80" alt="a stone bridge over a valley" width="100%"]
[img src="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1760706848363-f0e6c0386071?crop=entropy&cs=tinysrgb&fit=max&fm=jpg&w=1080&q=80" alt="Man looking at sunset over a river valley" width="100%"]
[img src="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1711876006524-b0e246eca536?crop=entropy&cs=tinysrgb&fit=max&fm=jpg&w=1080&q=80" alt="a tall metal tower sitting on top of a lush green field" width="100%"]
i ended up helping a street musician fix his amplifier. his name was aarav and he said mumbai’s spirituality comes from the sound of its chaos. i asked if he’d ever thought about quitting. he stared at the ceiling and said, 'it’s either this or therapy. therapy costs money.' [3] i don’t know if that was a metaphor or a cry for help.
someone warned me about the airport bar’s overpriced coffee. i ignored it and bought a shot of espresso shot for ₹220. turning around, i saw a tourist mimicking my *, and suddenly i felt like a blues singer in a silent movie.
the reviews i’ve heard are conflicting. one says mumbai’s best for street food, another swears by its motorcycle taxis. i checked yelp and found a thread about a ‘miracle mango vendor’ who supposedly sells fruit that tastes like childhood memories. i refuse to try it because i’m too attached to my bag of instant noodles.
the humidity made my sketchbook pages curl. i caught myself staring at the temple lights at night, wondering if the shadows were ghosts or just really good at hiding. aaj ka sunrising was 5:47 am and it felt both too early and rushed.
if you’re here, don’t miss the local market’s curry paste stall. their recipe involves a 17-step process and a geisha’s patience. also, the traffic is a metaphor for life. you just roll with it. [4]
i’m leaving tomorrow with a half-finished canvas and a permanently stained hat. maybe mumbai stole more than just my art supplies. maybe it took my ability to plan. but hey, at least the weather’s consistent enough to make a mess without apologizing. [5]
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