They always say Mumbai is the city of dreams, but when I first arrived, all I felt was fear. I had grown up imagining this place through movies: Marine Drive, Bollywood lights, fast lives. But reality hit the moment my parents left after two days. As they waved goodbye, the crowd around me suddenly looked unfamiliar. The city felt too big, and I felt too alone. I wondered if Mumbai would ever feel like home.

The constant honking and the traffic that never seemed to take a break were too much at first. But slowly, everything changed. I made new friends, the kind who made this new life feel lighter and fun. We shared late-night talks, endless cup noodles, and home stories. People around me started feeling familiar, and Mumbai quietly turned into my second home.

The place that slowly became a part of my routine is Cross Maidan, just near Fashion Street. It’s where I often go to sit quietly and pray. I see people from all walks of life stopping for a moment, office workers rushing from meetings, students passing by, they pause, take a kiss of the relic, and continue with their busy day. It’s such a simple gesture, but it shows how everyone here holds on to a little hope while chasing life in this fast city.

And then there’s Marcos Café near Dolores Church, not some fancy place that everyone knows about, but it’s my favourite little spot. Their food is simple: toast, salami, ham… nothing too special, but it tastes like comfort to me. On Sundays, especially, I love going there, ordering my usual, and just enjoying a slow morning before the week starts again.

And then came my first Marine Drive moment, the one I had been dreaming about. I expected a Bollywood moment: me, the sea, and perfect cinematic peace. But Mumbai always throws a twist! Out of nowhere, a random person walked up to me and started asking the weirdest questions. I was irritated for a second, thinking, Why now? Why here? But the waves got louder, a soft drizzle started, and suddenly the moment felt fun again. That’s just how Mumbai is — a little chaos mixed with unexpected joy.

One evening, I went to Marine Drive with my friends, finally ticking off the one place I had been waiting to see since forever. We were sitting by the rocks, sharing snacks, laughing, and just enjoying the breeze. Suddenly, a "Vox-pop guy" with a camera came up to us and asked the most unexpected question: “How much salary do you expect your future husband to earn?”

For a moment, we froze. Here we were, trying to forget deadlines, assignments, and responsibilities, and suddenly we were thrown straight into thoughts about marriage, finances, and our entire future! Each of us started reasoning silently, thinking, “First, let us be independent, finish college, survive on our own… then we’ll worry about all that!” We burst out laughing at how absurd it felt as if Mumbai herself had decided to remind us that life has a way of catching up, even when you’re trying to run away from it.

Then, as if the city wanted to make the moment even more cinematic, tiny drops started falling. It slowly turned into a soft drizzle, and we got a little wet, so we ran under a tree, laughing and saying, “Chalo, we got wet, might as well enjoy it!” We stood there for a while, watching the waves crash, feeling the breeze, and just soaking it all in. After a while, we started walking again, through the streetlights, the traffic, and the bustling energy of the city. We ended up having a great time, talking, clicking pictures, and enjoying that typical “Bombay” night filled with chaos and charm.

By Felicia Furtado