As we were driving around Bombay, my father quoted economist Joan Robinson who said, ” whatever you can rightly say about India, the opposite is also true”.
Having grown up in India, I am still struck and alarmed by how true this is: where contrasts lie in close proximity with each other, heartbreaking poverty shares roads with opulence. And I am not yet immune to this juxtaposition of contrasts as they bounce off one another every single day. And the thing about India is that she makes me feel unsettled. And thing about India is that she makes me want to write. Because here there is so much that needs to be said.
As I was being driven along Marine drive, on my right the bustling streets were milling with people (to the extent that I wondered the seams didn’t burst), and on the left was this: