Mumbai my love and hate affair.

Posted: November 9, 2013 in Uncategorized
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PS: I have undying love for Mumbai. Actually we have undying passion for each other.However just like any other normal relationship there are things I just hate BIG time. Its the the thin line between the two that keeps us together !

  1. Monday morning, actually almost every day. But Mondays feel worse coz am normally fired up to hit the ground running. Taking my time  to enjoy the morning breeze of the sea, trying so hard to avoid disruption. Then what do I see, an adult man lying on the streets masturbating  ,halfway in his asleep. Am mentally disturbed. My innocence is gone with the wind.
  2. DOGS.I HATE dogs. I hate them very much. Doesn’t matter how cute they are . Even my best friends dogs I don’t like them.Infact my history with dogs dates back to very young age. My grandpa had this fierce dog . It was my nightmare. For the sake of those who have never been to African villages, here is a briefing. The kitchen and main house are different.In most cases there are more than one main houses. This is the case with my grandparents home. Rarely is there electricity or any kind  lighting in compound at night. Dinner is served between 8-9 . Its this time that my grandma. May her soul rest in peace, would call me to get my dinner and my favourite big mug of fresh milk.As soon as she called my name, I would go to the door, try to squint in darkness, then make run , run for my life . Like Bolt does. And always the fierce dog would come running after me. That was my entire life, a nightmare to and from the kitchen, mostly pouring half of my food and milk.Fast forward over ten years later, these dogs in Mumbai are driving me crazy. They are everywhere, I go.It freaks me out mostly when they run after me during my morning jog.  Dirty , unkempt stray dogs with a tag. I don’t know how who tags them. I wonder all the time, but I don’t have to ask, I would rather ask if someone could get rid of them. That’s not  gonna happen. Animals are respected here. Something about religion. I have chosen to understand about some animals, but not dogs. No. Never. One time , I tried , then one bit my friend really badly she had to get stiches. I changed my mind to the worse. Even the ones for the rich , that are walked around my neighbourhood are equally ugly.And why do they poo in patterns , its like a competition in the street. I always watch where I am walking, coz I don’t want to take this shit to my house.
  3. Spitting. As much as I have seen no spitting billboards everywhere, no one seems to adhere. The rickshaw drivers, and pretty much everyone else. All appreciation goes to the green leaves with something something that is red in color, that are sold everywhere..Pan I think Once chewed, your saliva turns red. Yes red. Having become overly sensitive these last years, I practically walk dodging this red spit on the streets. The sight of someone spitting is always very disgusting . Problem is its stuck here in my mind and a few days ago I realized not even a trip to the beautiful Kerala beaches will erase this image
  4. Poking in the train, which comes with the where are you getting off?  question with some accent. There is a 50 -50 chance that the language would be Marati, Hindi or English.First days, I almost lost it. I couldn’t understand why the heck someone cares why am going. Its none of your business. Several trains latter , I learnt that they ask so that they can take your space when you get off. Since then , I close my eyes when I get into train so no one disturbs my peace.So far its working very well. I also happened to go to Borivali, dem its far. They kind of have a point .
  5. Rickshaw drivers. Ours is the true love hate affair. I speak Swahili, English , Sheng, Kikuyu or whatever language that comes to mind and you speak Hindi or Marati. We reach an agreement of my destination. But you take me somewhere else .85 % of the time. And insist that’s where I should be. We argue. I ask you to ask around. You are stubborn. I start getting furious, am getting late. At this point we either separate or you find your way around and take me where we agreed in our different languages. Even when you have been working all day, you still don’t have change. All those 5 rupees, 3 rupees change I leave behind is a huge loss for me. I know sometimes you just want to make money from me. I guess you should be rich by now. But that’s a different story. No one has change in this country. No one. If I have 5 hundred rupees and am on the rush , so only need to grab a snack, it’s a dead effort. I go hungry most times. Its funny that sometimes I have so many 10 rupees notes and 2,3 5, rupees coins, funnier that these are the days I don’t need them at all. Back to rickshaw driver, why you don’t want to take me to Bandra East? Its still Bandra just the other side, and you get more money. ?
  6. Ok I get it. I am tall, taller than 90% of the women in this country. My hair is sometimes short and curly, sometimes like Rihannas , sometimes like now braided and very long. I have no clue what it will be tomorrow. I am dark skinned, and my skin tone is very even. I am everything that an Indian woman is not. No pun intended. But my million dollar question is , is that why everyone is staring at me? All the time? Or is it some mediocre racist reasoning? Some laughing , others shocked, others emotionless, from kids to the elderly? Because if this is why, then I am willing to have a sculpture of me somewhere in the middle of Mumbai for your future reference. I could have it engraved… Yours truly Martha Dee , the hottest African woman alive !
  1. Namuli says:

    Hahaha!!! Love this! Thanks for sharing your Mumbai adventure.
    Miss you!

  2. carolmsuper says:

    Spitting! I hate it and its the most common in Oslo too especially during winter they spit then inafreeze on the ground, YUK!!

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