Navigating Life in Mumbai
This one’s been a tricky one to write, and an even trickier one to share. But here we are. Here goes.
A friend of mine I had lost contact with reached out on Instagram the other day: ‘Where are you living now? I can’t keep up!’ The message reminded me that, despite all the bumps along the road, I have been privileged enough to close up shop and move country almost every year for the past few years. I spent my 23rd birthday in China, turned 24 in Malaysia, 25 in the UK, and 26 in Singapore. So yes, let me preface this post by saying: I know I have been very lucky.
And the reply to that friend’s message? I am in Mumbai, India, and have been for the last year.
But I don’t love it.
There. It’s finally there.
I don’t deny that Mumbai is a city with a rich history, a thunderous heartbeat, a multilayered culture. I don’t deny that some of the world’s highest-grossing films are made just across the bridge from my office. I don’t deny that the food in this city is some of the best I have ever tasted. But, as I find myself amidst all the glitz, the glamour, the sweat and the clamour, there is something amiss.
When I first moved to Mumbai, I was filled with boundless (naive?) optimism. I hold an Indian passport, therefore I’m Indian, therefore I’ll fit right in, therefore I’ll finally be ‘home’, after a lifetime spent trying to define ‘home’. What I didn’t contemplate is that spending a lifetime away from ‘home’ doesn’t mean you can fit right in just because you (just about) speak the language. Living in Mumbai isn’t something you can easily crash-course yourself for. Yes, you can read blog posts. You can reach out to people living here. You can even read Shantaram if you think it’ll prepare you. But the truth is, as cliché as it sounds, not one thing can ever prepare you for surviving in Mumbai.
But right now, for better or for worse, Mumbai is home — and home is where the heart is, right? But my heart has still not settled here.
I’m by no means complaining about the city itself — I just don’t feel like I belong here. While I am very fortunate to have made a handful of incredibly loving friends, who have taken me in as family at festivals and mealtimes, I haven’t found it overly easy to connect with people in Mumbai. I’ve found it hard to cultivate many long-lasting connections here, and certainly haven’t been able to establish any semblance of a stable friend group. This is very difficult for me to admit, as I take pride in the fact that I’ve been able to quickly and seamlessly weave myself into the local tapestry of pretty much everywhere I’ve lived, making large and vibrant groups of friends across the world.
I’m definitely partly to blame for my poor attempt at friendship formulation in Mumbai. For the first 6 months on my new job, I was working long hours, most weekends, and didn’t even think twice about building a life in Mumbai. I just threw myself headfirst into life at the firm, and, soon enough, life at the firm just became life. When everything slowed down after that whirlwind 6 months, the isolation hit me like a bullet train. Where were all my plans to join clubs, trot along on photo walks, meet like-minded people, really make my life in this city?
And then there’s the ‘hustle’. No, not #hustle. The actual, gritty, raw hustle — the struggle that this city lives and breathes. The struggle for that job opportunity, for that final pint of milk, for that little space on a Mumbai local train. There are people I’ve met in this city for whom the hustle is non-stop, and I’ve seen them questionably cross lines just to get what they need. And then there are the fights — fights against the sweltering heat and the paralysing monsoon, fights with cabbies and street vendors, fights with the people you love the most.
After more than a year here, I still can’t articulate how I really feel about living in Mumbai. I find myself comparing it to my times in Mexico and the UK — the two places where I have been ‘happiest’ — and a wave of nostalgia pours its sepia-toned memories all over me. But this comparing game is not fair. Mumbai is a city in its own right, India is a magical country in its own right, and I know there is so much beauty in both that I have yet to discover.
I know this is a jumble of mismatched thoughts, and I hope I’ll have a solid opinion on life in Mumbai for you soon. For now, let’s see if I can get better at discovering and embracing this place that I — for now, reluctantly — call home.
