5 minutes at Bandra Railway station

Bandra is a quarter in the heart of Mumbai. It is the final stop for long distance trains. Apart from that is has also a railway station for local trains. I had the pleasure to wait at the main entrance of Bandra railway station for five minutes. My impressions and feelings I would like to share with you. Be anxious.Bandra railway station is a messy and polluted area. Everywhere around I see garbage, every now and then some shit, probably from cows. It is very hot and sultry as well. I stand close to a pillar, lean against a pillar to avoid being rubbed from behind as I am carrying my trekking rucksack on my back. Next to me a guy is selling shabby shirts, all are displayed on a kind of table. It doesn’t take a minute and while I am looking around I am asked whether I want to buy one. “Very, very cheep!”, he praises his merchandize. I shake my head for negation while some other perspective costumers rummage about the heap of shirts. A worn off bus arrives. Not even stopped, people jump out of the bus which has neither doors nor window panes. As I am probably the one white human being around, they are looking at me and behold me unceasingly. To my right, another guy is sitting on the floor selling vegetables. He doesn’t offer a lot, just some onions, tomatoes and potatoes. He had made an effort in stringing together the vegetables thoroughly. “CCCrrrrrrooooaaaaakkkkk, pffffffttttt!”. Just in front of me someone spew. While seeing his spittle, I notice that there is spittle all around me. Some are even in red colour as they had chewed betel nuts along with some tobacco. After a while, certainly due to the heat, my heavy rucksack and the air pollution I can hardly breathe. The noise is indescribable, caused especially by these noisy and honking rickshaws arriving almost every 20 seconds. After having dropped their costumer, they have a look at me asking me with a gesture if I want to be conveyed. Again, I shake my head for negating. While I am beholding the enormous movie poster on the other side of the road, I little boy touches me showing me a wound on his right elbow and begs for some bugs – again I shake my head. He goes on and asks a customer recently arrived with a rickshaw and who is being about to pay the fare. All of a sudden, a black, air-conditioned Toyota Corolla stops just in front of me. One of these lucky Indians who is earning a fortune for Indians standards is dropping his girlfriend or wife or whatever. She is being asked for some bugs by an aging, grey haired man basing on himself with crutches as he has only one foot. She goes on without giving some money. On the opposite side I notice a guy kneeling while he is peeing against the wall. “Ooooiiiiiippppp, oooooiiiiiippppp!!!”, again a rickshaw almost reached the railway station but cannot move on due to the traffic jam which has been caused by a cow being about to cross the road but doesn’t care about. The people around seize this opportunity to cross the road more secure. The rickshaws now all try to edge their way through by driving around the cow while the cow itself now decided to clear the road slowly after having beheld the road users boringly. Now, Faiz, my friend is arriving, picking me up for a coffee at the café “Just around the corner”, where Zarine used to have her coffee when she was about to go to college. As I have been staying in India for almost six month, all what I mentioned doesn’t cause any problems to me. It has become normal and I have become at least half Indian.