And to Think That I Saw It on Mahatma Gandhi Street

Just a typical morning walk from Khar Danda (where I live) to Pali Naka (where I work)...

9:04 – Leave my apartment, waiting till the last possible second to turn off the fans before braving the 100 degree heat. (no exaggeration)

9:06 – Pass by Little Bo-Peep Day Care as I hear a familiar song, “Hakuna Matata, what a wonderful phrase…” It's funny, everyone I speak to at home asks, "So, what's India like?!" because being half way (well all the way actually) across the world in a developing country must be as far from life at home as I could get...yet I'm standing here watching a three year old girl wrap her arms tightly around her mother and kiss her goodbye before running through the red and yellow gate to the sounds of the Lion King soundtrack coming from inside. No better way to express the moment than my roommate Talya’s favorite quote, “We are here to awaken from the illusion of our separateness.”

9:10 – Walk around the neighborhood cow in her usual spot on the sidewalk eating from the pile of garbage next to her. (Who am I kidding? There are about 15 neighborhood cows, but this one has definitely claimed this spot.)

9:17 – “Good Morning!” says the young man sitting behind the magazine stand smiling. It seems we have developed a little morning ritual; he waits for me to walk by, I wave and he glows with pride after getting to impress me with his English.

9:18 – Take out my handkerchief to wipe the beads of sweat rolling down my face that I can no longer ignore as I pass the woman who sits on this precise sidewalk square everyday. She must be at least 85 years old, wears an old, torn, yet extremely colorful sari and stares blankly at the road in front of her while slightly wiggling her one bottom tooth that is visible over her top lip when her mouth is closed.

9:25 – Walk passed the old man riding his bicycle who I cross paths with everyday between 9:23 and 9:28. It's a quiet one way street that he slowly pedals down while continuously squeezing his horn (I smile wondering if he just doesn’t realize there are no other vehicles on the road or he simply enjoys the high pitched sound of his horn.)

9:27 – A teenage boy walks towards me with a monkey on a leash. I stare a bit at this odd yet unsurprising pair. He gets closer and calls out, “Monkey dance? Monkey dance?” I shake my head no, although very curious what exactly a monkey dance would look like. He passes and we both continue on our way.

9:28 – Turn around to make sure the heat isn’t getting to me and I didn’t just imagine that whole scene. Nope. Boy and monkey on leash are still visible and lethargically strolling down the street.

9:30 - Reach the alley leading to the apartment building of my NGO office. I take a minute to cool off slightly, as drops of water coming from the laundry hanging above land on my head, before climbing the five flights up to apartment 503.