Living in Mumbai: Freedom, Silence, and Everything In Between
There is something deeply ironic about living alone in Mumbai. Everywhere you look, people are fighting for space—on trains, in small apartments, in crowded cafés where conversations overlap and chairs almost touch. Space here is currency, and it isn’t always easy to come by. People crave it. They work for it, wait for it, even dream about it. And yet, I have it. Freely. No one is waiting outside my door. No background noise of a television—just four cats occasionally breaking the silence. No interruptions mid-thought… except the ones created by my own mind. It sounds like freedom. And in many ways, it is. But space isn’t always something you choose. Sometimes, it’s something that quietly chooses you. Because space is not just physical. It’s also the absence of shared moments—the quiet comfort of someone else being there, even when nothing is being said. The in-between pauses that feel fuller when they’re shared. There are nights when the city is unbearably loud, yet my room feel...
