People were relaxing in an alley in a fishing village

Leaving the waterfront behind, I stepped into a maze of narrow alleys. Though this fishing village wasn’t far from Mumbai’s Gateway of India, it felt worlds apart from the chaos of the tourist districts. The passageways were tight, flanked by closely packed buildings that limited visibility. Once inside, there was no avoiding face-to-face encounters with the locals.

At first, the sudden appearance of a foreigner seemed to catch people off guard. A few curious glances, a moment of hesitation—but just as quickly, their surprise faded. No one tried to chase me away, nor did anyone overwhelm me with excessive curiosity. Instead, they met me with an unspoken, balanced acceptance.

The boys perched on a motorbike, engrossed in a mobile game, glanced up and flashed me a wide grin, holding up a peace sign. Nearby, a group of men sitting and chatting paused for a moment, their expressions warm as they looked toward my camera. In this quiet, unhurried atmosphere, I continued walking, weaving deeper into the labyrinth of alleyways, welcomed not with words, but with a quiet, mutual understanding.

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