People were looking down from the top of the quay at the boats that had docked

People looking down at the boat after it landed on the shore

Walking through a fishing village not far from Mumbai’s Gateway of India, I once again found myself by the sea. Unlike the rocky shoreline I had visited earlier, this area was properly fortified with a seawall, and several boats were docked along the edge. At the center of each boat, a hatch-like door suggested the presence of storage compartments, confirming that these were indeed fishing vessels. Yet, there was no sign of fish being unloaded, nor any cargo being loaded onto the boats. Instead, a group of men moved about the deck, busy with some unseen task.

What exactly were they doing?

On the pier, a few onlookers stood in silence, watching the men work. No one spoke, no one shouted instructions—just quiet observation. The scene had an almost ritualistic feel to it, as if the work on the boats followed an unspoken rhythm. Were they preparing for a fishing trip, or was this something else entirely?

As I stood there, watching in quiet curiosity, I felt as though I had stepped into a fleeting moment of the village’s daily life—one that would soon continue, with or without an audience.

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