Towards evening, black clouds mottle Mumbai’s summer sky; an indicator the monsoon is on its way. As the sun begins its descent into the Arabian Sea, people flock to their rooftops. Donning tracks and sneakers, they take brisk walks along the perimeters of their respective roofs. A giant Buddha portrait graces one roof; he seems to say, ‘Stay calm. Nothing is permanent.’ Those more steadfast with their exercise regimen have converted their balconies into makeshift gyms, replete with weights and other apparatus. Different strains of music float to my ears from different directions: Bollywood, Jazz, Rock.
Yesterday, I saw a couple dancing, with a glass of wine in each of their hands. Kids ride scooters and chase a football. The sky is bluer, the sun’s rays are less blustering and in their treetop nests, birds are mighty chuffed. treetops.
At last they have a captive audience. After all who doesn’t like to be heard?