#Day135: Life In Mumbai, from a teenage settled nomad.

A city that never sleeps. A city that treasures its few hours of slumber. A city of cutting chai ( to the uninitiated a concoction of tea served just half a cup at half price ). A city of vada pav ( again, a snack of lentil paste coated potato dumplings, deep fried and served inside a bun, with spicy chutney ). Seven islands and one huge city.
There is a certain ring to these statements that will bring a smile to any Mumbaikar’s face. There is a truth in them that will have you nodding when you read them. There is also a devil that lurks within this city. The underground reality that is undeniable has long been residing along with the residents here.  The soul of Mumbai is its people. It is the half-awake morning office-goers sprinting onto the local trains.
Mumbai. City of dreams. My beloved city is the escape for so many eager dreamers. Small-town-ers looking to make it big in the city of lights.
As many names I speak of for the city, there will be a certain edge it has over the mere townships. And yet, there’s a danger lying about in my beautiful city. An interesting, impending unknown that makes it The Great Perhaps. You never know what happens here. Untimely rains, festivities, or the random blasts. It is part and parcel of being a Mumbaikar. One gets used to expecting surprises.
But, after all, its my city. And I know you’re gonna love it in my city
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