Begging for rest

Even when Bombay sleeps, it is impressive to drive through the city. The cars, rickshaws, and other means of transport are only sparsely present. The accompanying honking and rattling are therefore much less than during the day. But the oppressive heat of the day is still noticeable, and the lingering, penetrating smells remain omnipresent. They challenge my mucous membranes. Everywhere, people lie on the sidewalks, and here and there, a small light still burns in the shacks erected along the roadside. It creates a ghostly image. Shadows move in the dim light beneath the corrugated iron roofs, and every now and then, I see a rat scurry away. It doesn’t make much difference, I think, whether you arrive in India for the first time at night or during the day. The first impression is intense and from another world. This remains true even now, as I race through the city in a minibus blaring Western music, on my way to the hotel.