It was pouring cats and dogs. The expedition was planned for sundown but the rains caused a delay. Nevertheless, dressed in the rainy day outfit - shorts, a tee and slippers, we stepped out. It took less than 2 mins for our feet to get wet. The sky wasn't clearly visible through the tall dense trees that skycrape-ed above us. The downpour had momentarily reduced. A light drizzle sprinkled on us as we moved through the puddles.
Armed with a only a pink umbrella, we struggled to protect ourselves from the heavens' showers and from the splashes from the unruly creatures that drove on the roads. "This is why we should've come out at noon." she complained about my decision,"It never rains then!"
The road must've been beautiful, but now all remained was broken pavement stones and uneven concrete.We continued to waddle through the darkness and the dirt, minding the ditches and the blinding lights of the cars. 2 blocks down, a left, another 2 blocks and we had arrived at our destination - a small cave for all the food we needed to survive. It was referred to by the tribe as a super market.
After picking up 2 loafs of bread from outside, we stepped into the air-conditioned interiors. It was buzzing with other predators all rushing around to fill their baskets. There was hardly any place to move. Each pack was allotted an attendant who would assist their search. Packet after packet fell into the baskets.
With 3 bags filled with nick-knacks, that should last a week, balanced neatly on our arms we pushed open the door to the place where we had found the bread only to be hit by a gush of wind and a new storm that must've begun when we were distracted by the goodies indoors. We decided to wait till it reduced before venturing out.
The journey back wasn't as easy as the former. Sensing the difficulties ahead I offered we take one of the unusual 3 legged- 1 eyed vehicles that ferried the people along. "This is kinda fun" is was what I got in return. So, we set out. Avoiding the rushing cars and the running people, trying to figure out whether this was sewer water we were treading on.
Managing 3 bags, a purse and an umbrella was a wee bit complicated, but taking turns to get wet is how we managed to solve the problem. Another stop for fruits and eggs was due, but the eggs were inaccessible so they were scratched off the list while the fruits were easily acquired quite close to the place we had begun calling home.
Adding a little more luggage onto the pile and trudging the last few metres up to our residential den, we had conquered the concrete jungle of Mumbai on a stormy day.
(* the origin of the term 'concrete jungle' was picked up from a beautiful song called 'New York' where the same was referred to as the said term. I have not researched to figure out whether there is an earlier origin. Just a disclaimer)
Armed with a only a pink umbrella, we struggled to protect ourselves from the heavens' showers and from the splashes from the unruly creatures that drove on the roads. "This is why we should've come out at noon." she complained about my decision,"It never rains then!"
The road must've been beautiful, but now all remained was broken pavement stones and uneven concrete.We continued to waddle through the darkness and the dirt, minding the ditches and the blinding lights of the cars. 2 blocks down, a left, another 2 blocks and we had arrived at our destination - a small cave for all the food we needed to survive. It was referred to by the tribe as a super market.
After picking up 2 loafs of bread from outside, we stepped into the air-conditioned interiors. It was buzzing with other predators all rushing around to fill their baskets. There was hardly any place to move. Each pack was allotted an attendant who would assist their search. Packet after packet fell into the baskets.
With 3 bags filled with nick-knacks, that should last a week, balanced neatly on our arms we pushed open the door to the place where we had found the bread only to be hit by a gush of wind and a new storm that must've begun when we were distracted by the goodies indoors. We decided to wait till it reduced before venturing out.
The journey back wasn't as easy as the former. Sensing the difficulties ahead I offered we take one of the unusual 3 legged- 1 eyed vehicles that ferried the people along. "This is kinda fun" is was what I got in return. So, we set out. Avoiding the rushing cars and the running people, trying to figure out whether this was sewer water we were treading on.
Managing 3 bags, a purse and an umbrella was a wee bit complicated, but taking turns to get wet is how we managed to solve the problem. Another stop for fruits and eggs was due, but the eggs were inaccessible so they were scratched off the list while the fruits were easily acquired quite close to the place we had begun calling home.
Adding a little more luggage onto the pile and trudging the last few metres up to our residential den, we had conquered the concrete jungle of Mumbai on a stormy day.
(* the origin of the term 'concrete jungle' was picked up from a beautiful song called 'New York' where the same was referred to as the said term. I have not researched to figure out whether there is an earlier origin. Just a disclaimer)
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