24 Hours in Mumbai: A Night of Travel, India and the Value of Time

Recently, I had the chance to pass through Mumbai for 24 hours. I took Etihad, and the 14-hour flight was ultra comfortable because I slept as soon as I got into the flight at Atlanta and watched two brain-rot movies before they told us we were landing at Abu Dhabi. I walked around the Abu Dhabi airport until I could take my connecting flight to Mumbai.

And as I stood in line to board, I watched truckloads of Indian men being hauled ahead of us waiting passengers.

Later, I found out from a gentleman who sat next to me that the irony was that he was Indian and had been with the police force in Abu Dhabi for 20 years. His duty was to deport anyone who had overstayed their work or visitor visa. And the 70-plus of “his Indian people” who were on the flight with us were them. And because the flights were relatively empty during the height of the Iran-US war, this was the perfect time for the government to make use of the empty flights to deport people.

As I observed the men throughout the flight, they looked like humans who could use some hugs and a good, hot meal.

I got out of the Mumbai airport at 2am and went around to the taxi company booths to ask how much it would cost to get to Navi Mumbai. And then I went to the Uber counter downstairs in the basement parking lot and asked someone at the counter to book me an Uber, which ended up costing me one-third of what the private taxi companies were charging me at their kiosks.

After a quick 4 hour sleep, I woke up to come and sit on the grass so I could directly charge myself from Mother India. I watched an elderly couple walk and meditate in the neighborhood park.

We got ready and like any desi visiting India, I piled into a car with my nephew and niece and went to a restaurant to eat until I couldn’t breathe. From North India to South India to Mumbai chaat, everything in one go.

Sometimes I’m shocked at my own capabilities as a human.

Then I went to a mall to shop, only enough to convert everything back into dollars and fret about how expensive India and its inflation have become.

We came back to our living room to watch TV and of course to go through the rite of passage of seeing Arnab screaming at the top of his lungs.

Came back to the airport to watch a man and his two wives giggle and fidget around until their taxi came. And ate rice and dal with papad at 2 am until my flight took off at 6 am.

As I watched around, travelers made Instagram reels, some dozed off, and others scrolled as if they were looking for “the end” on their internet pages.

In this huge sea of humanity, what’s the value of a human and his time on a night of no sleep?

I was thinking too much before I promptly got up and headed towards my gate.

– 0 –