It was the beginning of the summer vacation. My father asked me how I wanted to spend the holidays. I immediately told him that I wanted to go to Mumbai to visit my uncle. I had lived in the village for fifteen years and I was curious to see the city life. So he arranged the trip and I finally reached Mumbai.

On the very first evening of my arrival, my cousin took me to the local market. It was a very busy street, buzzing with life. Electric lights lit up the entire area and tall buildings towered on all sides. The streets were not very wide, yet goods were displayed even on the pavements. In many places, narrow wooden booths could be seen, where shopkeepers conducted their business.

Anything, from the smallest pin to a laptop or smartphone, could be bought here. Shops were arranged in sections: the fruit and vegetable corner, a grocery and grain section and stores selling clothes and fashion items. Dry fruits, cutlery, flowers, anything you could imagine was available. Even antique furniture, home décor, electrical goods and vehicle spare parts were sold at roadside shops.

The traders were lively and noisy. Most of them were very talkative and tried hard to attract customers. Some even called out to you if you glanced at their goods. In many shops, two or three people moved about in very limited space, creating a sense of hustle and bustle.

The customers were diverse. People of all ages, backgrounds and communities were present. Foreigners could also be seen exploring the shops. Men, women and children crowded the streets or strolled around curiously. Beggars were many, adding to the chaos. Hawkers carried bags filled with goods, selling watches, bangles and other items. Occasionally, a nervous-looking man would come close and whisper that he had a “genuine imported watch” for a very low price.

Since I was in a holiday mood, I wandered through the bazaar, highly amused and entertained. My cousin made the few purchases he had come for and we had cold drinks at one of the stalls. I left the market with vivid images of everything I had seen. The sights and sounds were completely different from the quiet bazaar of our village and I knew I would never forget this experience.