The first time I felt like a Mumbaikar was at a library. It’s not the kind of place you associate with the city’s crowd and chaos. Kerbside tea stalls echoing with colloquial bellows are more Mumbai’s speed – in this city, destinations blur as people shuffle through life, always enroute to something, somewhere, or some idea.
✦
But there at David Sassoon Library, listening to one of India’s leading conservationists speak about preserving the bastions of our existence, I felt like a part of something bigger. Under that centuries-old roof, there was space for everyone, their hopes and dreams, memories of a city gone by, and passion for celebration of local heritage — for the people, by the people.
I moved to Mumbai in 2022. As a lover of quietude it wasn’t my first choice of residence, but the city reeled me in with a promise of greatness. And boy, did it deliver. It’s where I discovered dignity in one’s work surrounded by supportive professionals, made unlikely adult friendships through tiny heart-warming gestures, and grew into an open-hearted, accepting person thanks to compassionate interactions with strangers in the most unfamiliar places.
For an introvert, the crowded streets and in-your-face camaraderie of Mumbai can be overwhelming at first. But every time I smiled back, a new world opened up with possibilities of feeling at home in a new city.
Mumbai’s breathtaking heritage architecture turned out to be one such avenue for me, offering a quiet way of relating with its people and their shared history within the nooks and crannies of buildings. Like at Victoria Terminus, where millions of commuters like me seek shelter from the monsoon rains, or the Victorian Gothic and Art Deco Ensembles, a lesson in design influences, or Mount Mary church in Bandra, a stronghold for the local community.
Photos: Tony Sebastian, Rushikesh Patil, Zoshua Colah, Sidharth Sabu
Heritage can mean different things to different people in this city. I've never been one to lose myself in crowded bars alongside youth sweaty with a zest for rubbing shoulders with strangers through the night. But I slowly learnt that for Mumbaikars, heritage is sometimes the stories screamed into ears in the hallowed halls of local dive bars. As I found myself toasting to parting stories and new friendships at Toto’s Garage, this came to become my own reality. There’s an unmentioned respect for space in these compact places, whether you’re dancing to Bollywood numbers at Mitron, walking into the night from The Den at closing hour, or swapping stories at Colaba’s famed Gokul Bite – a warmth in the chatter, and a connection far deeper than the high-flying bars of other metro cities in India.
Right opposite Gokul, Bagdadi gave me my first moment of soothing simplicity in a city of overwhelming experiences. It’s an unassuming restaurant with what I deem the city’s best caramel custard — a well-kept secret whispered directly into my heart by one of my first friends in the city.
But it’s not the only salve around. There are many such spots, from local Keralan holes-in-the-wall in Chembur, to Sri Lankan eateries in Bandra, and street food haunts in Andheri: all places that locals will take you to for a taste of their own lives.
Outside of dingy food joints, the city’s culture revealed itself at its fanciest galleries and stores, too. Every time an interview took me to one of these places, I’d find myself panicking at the anxiety of having another conversation, another effort at carving my way into someone’s life. But the people behind Mumbai’s greatest spaces turned out to be as wonderful as their work, sharing their passion for art, design, and beauty until I, too, fell in love with the city’s wonders. I discovered local artists at Jehangir Art Gallery, learnt about craft by walking through Mumbai Gallery Weekend, traced the story of designers like Simone Arora, and was left awestruck in Mumbai’s iconic Fort area with its beautiful boutiques.
Over the three years that I’ve lived here, I’ve forged an unspoken relationship with the city’s people, discovering my own dreams in theirs. Even when alone at the Marine Drive seaside hangout, I have never felt lonely. Here, footsteps slow, conversations in Marathi quiet to a murmur, and kids, students and workers find collective pause in front of the moonlit tide.
Photos: Zoshua Colah, Tony Sebastian, Sudarshan Poojary
Like many visitors, I’d known Mumbai only for its cramped rooms and crumbling, soot-stained streets filled with the smell of piping hot vada pav. But on a day walk through the city, my aunt exposed me to the stories that rested within these lanes — those carefully preserved in the temples lining Banganga Tank, rooted in the trees lining the homes of Bandra’s fishing villages, and shared by taxi drivers so enthusiastically that they drown out the roads’ honking symphonies.
Mumbai may be a pedestrian’s nightmare, but it reveals its richest secrets to those who dare to meet it on foot.
To add a little structure to this intimate experience, one can join the walking tours crafted by the city’s locals, many of whom started out as newcomers and dug under the city’s moss-covered surface over years of exploration. From tree walks in Navy Nagar to marine exploration by the Bandstand promenade and night walks that show south Mumbai in a new light, there’s nothing like experiencing the city through the eyes of someone who, like me, has found it to be home.
