"Abbe yeh rasta tere baap ka hai kya!"
(Is this road owned by your father)
I twisted my head to get a better view of the commotion created in the middle of the busy street. I slapped my forehead in exasperation as this great argument between the hot headed gigantic truck driver and the cross driver of the squeakily fragile rickshaw was ultimately going to waste oodles of time.
Brought up in this crazy city of mayhem, I have become accustomed to these daily shows put up by people. Everyone thinks highly of themselves here. Giving off free advice (sometimes way too many), Street-sellers defending their supply as probably the best thing you can find in the world and rickshaw-walas well they are from a different world all together. You literally have to beg them to take you to your destination while the meter runs at rocket speed!
But even though we're slightly messed up on following rules there is a mutual understanding that prevails. Yes we do stop in the middle of the road to talk or ask directions and the pedestrians do enjoy full freedom to encroach the road despite of sidewalks. But these silly, unruly things make us, Us!
All youngsters want to travel. Settle in a developed country. Enjoy the nightclubs and the beautiful parks. Stroll along the clean identically aligned trees that adorn the sidewalks. Sit in that pretty bench and watch the calm surroundings. I would be lying if I said I didn't wish for that too. But there's something here that amazes me. The unrestrained freedom to dance on the streets, the ability to pour your heart out to a stranger in your long train commute, the attitude to feel like you rule the place. Mumbai may seem intimidating at first but soon it becomes home. You get that warm feeling of family in this city.
And to my surprise the fight got over soon, the frail rickshaw won against the sturdy truck. I laughed as I saw the truck move aside. This place sure is a mess I thought, but definitely a beautiful mess :)
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