Ever been woken up in the dead of the night (crack of dawn, whatever) by a rumbling sound that makes you think the alien mothership is landing? I have.
The place I've been staying at for the last three weeks in Santa Cruz, Mumbai is so close to the airport, I can hear the people on the international flights (because only those fly at such odd times) being given the "
Aagey do dwaar, peechhey do dwaar" speech by the stewardesses.
Bombay, I've realised, is a peculiar city. One moment it's a perfectly sunny day; I have my aviators on. The very next second, there's a crack of thunder and I'm totally drenched. People here don't have the same tendency to, well, show-off as North-Indians (us Punjabis leading the lot!) do. Coincidentally, this is one of the major complaints Mumbaikars have against Delhi.
Roads here seem to be meant for vehicles as well as pedestrians. First, you honk and clear your way. Then, you get stuck in traffic.
But, there is no road-rage. This is a laidback city with patient, easygoing people. Where Delhi drivers would've honked their horns and hurled abuses at the other drivers till their throats were sore, Mumbai drivers wait patiently for the car in front of them to move. Quite the culture shock, considering I've grown up with the notion firmly implanted in my brain that red lights are meant to be ignored, speed limits destined to be broken and vehicles meant to be overtaken!
