Clash-King Street Sign & Art Nouveau Riche

City Construction: note the bamboo ladders, hefty protective nets, and city building curves.

Parking in front of a small but proud city abode

tRue Hill Dream: Where 'art' and wealth meet on the street

What does it mean to be a city full of construction, growth, and renewal? 

A city alive and full of possibilities, of endless opportunities and potentials, the chance to be or become or to better oneself... the ability to move on and up in this world, if only for the sake of the children and the children's children
of our future generations?
 
Mumbai is full of would-be dreamers, people who see and foretell their futures as rich, famous, fabulous, or fantastical.









As a city of dreamers, people often come to Bombay for a grand plan or a hope or a vision to be lived out, enacted through art, painting, story,
business, politics, or local discourse.



 
Mumbai is younger, savvier and perhaps less sophisticated, but more cosmopolitan and less conservative, than her sister city of New Delhi.

One of the magic things about Mumbai is

the chaos of the city--

its inter-connective social exchanges, night lights, honks and firework-filled celebrations--

is intoxicating.  

I become drawn into minor moments, 

on side streets or tabled amongst the frenzy of movement on larger byways, 

enraptured by individual stories, emerging like tiny sunspots, 

momentary and mundane,

insubstantial yet also larger-than-life.

Local street guerrilla-style art/ embodying the frenetic tension of the city/ peeled away in layers

Moments like these fill my mind with a sense of hope mixed with strength, pleasure twinged with sadness, and the knowledge of what is with the desire for what will be:

the woman who took her sari, wrapped it around her head, and quickly poured blessings and an offering to the towering tree at the side of the road; 

the white-bearded man in all-white, with cataracts on his eyes, who seemed to look through the souls of passerbys in silence as cement was carried, flowers were vended, auto-rickshaws competed for customers, and a tired woman slept on the street corner; 

SeaLink Bridge Junction, South Mumbai

the well-fed horned cows, sacred across Mumbai, who are lovingly fed greens and sweet things to keep them happy, adorned, and continuously blessed; 

the Muslim woman wearing a brightly colored head scarf covering all but her eyes while sporting a western-style jean ensemble that was tight, bright, and voluptuous; 

the chai wallah who supplies his thirsty customers with frothing, warm chai tea; 

the children who work as beggars and salesmen on busy, crowded roads; 

the flower man who capriciously sits by the soccer field, ready to catch the school children's ball should it veer in his direction; 

the vegetables vendors who stare you down, trying to decide how much they should over-charge; 

the kind doorman who seems to be lost in his thoughts; 

the old woman, small in stature, who somehow towers over the young men she chides when informing them of her wishes...  

All of these little moments embody Mumbai,
giving the city life, breadth, sustenance, and vigor.  

I don't think it is possible to be bored in Mumbai, unless, of course,
you forget to look around.