I miss the sounds of horns

Oh Mumbai, with your chaos, sweet smelling flowers and rich incense pluming into the sky. How I will miss the sound of those honking horns from every car, rickshaw and motorcycle passing by. And the rainbow colours of fabric on the women as they walk softly through the streets, with their jewelled third eyes and gold dangling from head to feet. Or the monkeys on elephanta island, and the cows eating trash in the mangroves, those are the memories etched in my mind. Such a beautiful place with carvings of stone, showing us the stories of the creator and destroyer of worlds in ancient time. And food, who could forget the saffron and masala, the teas and the curries, the rice and the naan. My mouth is watering just to recount it again. But mostly I will remember in between the silks and the scarves, the dogs asleep in the heat, and the daily traffic wild rides; the people...With their smiles and their eyes, long stares, and calm vibes, generous warmth and wise minds. Thank you Mumbai, for a wonderful time...