Stepping
into Mumbai
By
Abhishek Raol
I
was a middle schooler from humble ol’ Oregon
And
I loved exploring new lands
Stepping
out of the Airport and into
A
giant Sauna that is the city of Mumbai, India
Like
a crowded dance floor
There
wasn’t a piece of empty floor to be seen
There
must have been a giant fan above the city
Blasting
warm air into the night air
Shielding
me from the expected shiver
That
the Oregon night would usually deliver
Millions
of people not talking, but shouting
I
could only pick up about half the words
The
city was a busy colony of ants
Hard
working and never stopping
They
didn’t wear clothes like me,
Just
thin pieces of fabric draped over
Their
skinny, dark bodies
Every
car honking their horn
Fighting
their way down the next
Mile
of the dirt covered street
Cows,
dogs, people, food carts and bikers
All
shared the same narrow roads
People
didn’t walk but hustled.
A
set destination and a quick foot
Was
the only way to navigate the mess
Life
was free from any authority
Simply
too many people to control or care
America
is the land of the free
But
the people of Mumbai were wild!
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