The man was sitting on the corner of the sidewalk, drinking a cup of chai

The Mumbai sun is relentless. The moment you step outside, sweat clings to your skin, and your throat dries instantly. In this unforgiving heat, one thing keeps the city moving—chai.

Everywhere you go, you’ll find small chai stalls, their kettles steaming as they serve up tiny cups of strong, spiced tea. In wholesale markets and bustling streets, porters and laborers make their way to these stalls constantly, refueling before heading back to work.

For them, chai is not just a drink—it’s fuel.

One sip of its sweet, concentrated warmth, and a tired body springs back to life. It’s the original energy drink of Mumbai’s working class, a daily ritual that keeps the wheels of the city turning.

I noticed a man sitting on the edge of a sidewalk, a small paper cup of chai in his hand. He looked up at my camera, his gaze steady, taking a moment of quiet amid the humid, stifling air.

I wondered how much this brief pause meant to him—just a few minutes of rest before he returned to the constant grind of the city.

In that moment, his chai became more than just a cup of tea.

It was a reflection of Mumbai itself—a city that never stops, but always finds time to recharge.

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