7.

There is Escher in this city. You can see it in the slums and the way they sit, haphazardly piled on one another with no concern for gravity. In the Nariman Point buildings through which the strong wind funnels, almost visible. If you tilt your head on a windy day you can see the buildings swaying, not synchronized, yet with a method to their madness.

It is there in the image of the crowds in their erratic, rapid, inextricable zigzagging at railway stations. The serpentine trains as they head out and return. Arms and legs and heads of all shapes and dimensions bound by the train boxes. In such proximity, one comes to observe in great detail the veins on a person’s hands, the tremor of a chin, the shudder in an eye.

When buildings crack they cover the cracks with concrete and paint them black. Standing in the train you can see the walls of houses with black lines crawling haphazardly all over the building.

Sharp edged spiders with long legs and heavy bottoms.