It was hard to believe that Mumbai could witness a night sky at noon. This was so, in July 2016 at Nariman Point, with the most splendid and energetic monsoon lashing the megapolis. The skyline that one could see out at Hanging Gardens and Chowpatty across the bay from Nariman Point was magical. There seemed to be thousands of Mumbaikars (or Mumbaites, as also known) assembled all along the Queen's Necklace or Marine Drive, all the way from Nariman Point to Chowpatty Beach.
The waves seemed to suddenly grow out of the sea and jump out of the sky and on to the roads and drench the people. At least two or three spots had the waves lashing the vehicles speeding by. 3-4 boats were lashed out in the middle of the bay and a lone house crow was flying about, without landing anywhere.
I watched it moving about, flying over the stormy seas, and was reminded of Jonathan Livingston Seagull. Only Mumbai and its monsoon could pump in enough energy and madness and initiative for a lone house crow to go out into the angry monsoon winds and rain and over the sea and keep flying about, showing its strength. This lone crow seemed to say that Mumbai would always be resilient and brave any threat.
The waves seemed to suddenly grow out of the sea and jump out of the sky and on to the roads and drench the people. At least two or three spots had the waves lashing the vehicles speeding by. 3-4 boats were lashed out in the middle of the bay and a lone house crow was flying about, without landing anywhere.
I watched it moving about, flying over the stormy seas, and was reminded of Jonathan Livingston Seagull. Only Mumbai and its monsoon could pump in enough energy and madness and initiative for a lone house crow to go out into the angry monsoon winds and rain and over the sea and keep flying about, showing its strength. This lone crow seemed to say that Mumbai would always be resilient and brave any threat.
