The girl came to the Haji Ali Dargah and was drenched with bottled water on her head

The Mumbai sun was merciless. Its blazing heat scorched the asphalt, and even the sea breeze carried a stifling warmth. My body, still accustomed to Japan’s milder early summer, had been thrown headfirst into India’s searing heat. The result was inevitable—heat exhaustion hit almost immediately.

But I wasn’t alone.

Even the locals, despite living in this climate, weren’t immune to the heat. Near the Haji Ali Dargah, I saw people wiping sweat from their brows, struggling along the long, sun-drenched causeway that led to the shrine. No shade, no relief—just the brutal sun overhead. Walking there felt like being slowly roasted under an open flame.

Then, something caught my eye.

Not far from the shrine, on the rocky shore, a group of locals had turned the sea into their escape. They weren’t tourists—these were Mumbaikars seeking a moment of relief. With no hesitation, they plunged into the water, fully clothed, their T-shirts clinging to their bodies as they laughed and splashed. The children’s excited shouts echoed over the waves—a striking contrast to the exhaustion I had seen just moments before.

And then, through my camera lens, I captured a fleeting, beautiful moment—a young girl, dousing herself in water.

She lifted her face as the water cascaded over her, her eyes shut tight, her expression a perfect mix of shock and relief. With a quick shake of her head, droplets caught the sunlight, scattering into tiny, golden prisms.

In that single moment, I realized—this heat wasn’t just “everyday life” for them either.

They weren’t simply enduring it.

They were fighting it, in the only way they knew how.

Feeling the dryness in my own throat, I turned away from my camera and made my way to a nearby street vendor, eager to buy a cold bottle of water—a small luxury in the sweltering Mumbai afternoon.

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