Home of Bollywood

Little boxes, people on people, concrete humanity. A city where it all works, a city within which people strive for excellence or they could not stand the pace of desperate living here.Mumbai is where the intrepid traveler sees yet another face of India...the catterpillar during chrysalis...the strange transition from the nineteenth century to the twenty-first.Bright lights, neon signs, fast cars, beautiful people, the city never sleeps. Mumbai, the commercial capital of India, the home of Bollywood that churns fantasies and dreams and unreality.Throbbing with the vitality of dreams and the will to realise them, of reaching for the stars, it is a city of instant changes, constant changes, a city of opportunities, a city of fortune. It is where tomorrow stands today. If you have the guts and the gall to live in Mumbai and survive, you have arrived. Welcome to the real world.

People travel by the Central line and by the Western line everyday. And it seems all people always want to get into the same blooming train as you. When the train pulls in at the station the commuters seem to pile in half a mile before the train stops. They have to, if they want space to fit both their legs. I've never figured out how there are guys who manage to get a place to sit. It seems the only way you can get a place to sit in the train from Goregaon to Churchgate in the morning, is if you catch the train at Churchgate opposite the direction of the rush and sit and wait till it reaches Goregaon. Then don't get up. On the way back, you can have the pleasure of sneering at the five guys standing on your toes.And the worst part is, the railway department actually fines you if you do a good deed and create a little more space for everyone by not buying a ticket. How the hell do they expect you to fit a railway pass into those compartments?If you think I'm exaggerating come and help me look for my pen which I lost getting off at Andheri