Journey to Mumbai and Reflections
The Bride of Cities, Mumbai
Travel is reality, while staying is metaphor
Travel is the provision and preparation for life
Today, Thursday, April 9, 2026, I departed from Lucknow to Mumbai, accompanied by my student Zaid, who resides in At Lucknow Airport, we were seen off by Maulana Muhammad Waseeq Nadwi, a teacher at Nadwatul Ulama, and Maulana Saud Azmi. Thanks to these gentlemen, my stay in Lucknow was quite comfortable, the details of which will be shared in other writings.
The plane took off from Lucknow at four o’clock and we arrived in Mumbai by six. Among those who welcomed us at the airport were Maulana Arif Masood Qasmi, Hafiz Mahmood Kareem, Professor Jamshed Nadwi, and Maulana Abdul Majeed Nadwi from Kashmir. The warmth and affection in their reception completely dispelled the fatigue of the journey.
The very mention of Mumbai brings a special light to the heart. I have visited this city numerous times, sometimes even for extended stays. Its allure, hustle, and captivating sights compel one to pause and admire: “Oh imagination, your delightful offerings.”
We traveled to the Taj Palace Hotel in Hafiz Mahmood Kareem’s car, arriving around eight o’clock. During the journey, at Maulana Abdul Majeed Nadwi’s insistence, I recited the Ba’lawliya and granted him general permission, thus maintaining a pleasant atmosphere of remembrance and narration throughout the trip.
Hafiz Mahmood Kareem’s kindness towards this humble servant is such that one feels embraced by genuine warmth and familiarity. Allah has blessed him with a broad mind and a pure heart. His conversation is simple, and his demeanor so endearing that one is naturally drawn to him. These are rare qualities among the scholarly class; spending even a short time with him feels like being in a familiar environment where neither strangeness nor formality remains. His presence makes the journey easy and the stay pleasant, leaving a lasting impression on the mind.
Our hotel is located opposite the Gateway of India. The Taj Hotel stands out in its grandeur, surrounded by towering buildings that reflect the pace of modern times. The lights reflecting in the glass, the traffic on the roads, and the bustling atmosphere combine to create a scene full of movement and order.
After the Maghrib and Isha prayers, we spent some time at the Gateway of India. There was a crowd of men and women, people of every color and race gathered there. A show based on the history of the Gateway of India was ongoing; some were watching it, many were busy taking pictures, and others were strolling around. This small part of Mumbai was narrating a unique story of India.
We then took a walk near the shore, where the waves of the sea held a special allure in their flow; sometimes gently lapping against the shore, and at other times retreating swiftly, as if engaged in a silent conversation. The air carried a faint salty fragrance that was pleasing to the heart. In this scene, there was a blend of nature and human endeavor that compelled the gaze to linger and the heart to quietly absorb the experience.
Mumbai’s effect is such that one forgets oneself in its atmosphere for a while. This city, with its pace, expanse, and vibrancy, seems like a world of its own, where every moment something changes and moves forward: “A tavern on the shoulder and a garden by the side.”
Later, we dined at the Delhi Darbar Hotel. The ambiance there was pleasantly lively. Rows of lights were beautifully arranged, and a soft glow spread all around. The gentle sounds of conversation, the faint clinking of utensils, and the aroma of food created a familiar and delightful environment.
The food was diverse, and each dish was enjoyable in its own right—crispy samosas, delicate kebabs, and parniyaan, which some call Syrian and others Indian, soft and tender breads, various types of chutneys, each with its unique flavor. The presentation was simple and elegant, with more skill than artifice. One could sit and eat with satisfaction while also enjoying the atmosphere, as if time was passing slowly.
Upon leaving, we tried to absorb the beauty of Mumbai’s sea. Everywhere, there was such charm that similes, metaphors, and allegories all seemed to pale. The verses of Shibli came to mind:
“The soul-refreshing breeze here is intoxicating
Why would there be concern for wine and goblets here?
Where is this delight, this greenery, this scene, this garden?
If you remember Lucknow, why would you?”
Those who believe in the Houris and the palaces, and the Salsabil and Tasneem, sometimes catch a faint glimpse of it here; and those who do not, wish to spend every moment here in “witness, poetry, wine, and sugar.” Our argument is that even tourists from Europe and America forget their homeland in Mumbai, and seeing some claimants of piety, one might suspect “With us, he drank wine and prayed with the ascetic.”
After a while, we returned to our room. I tried hard to do some work, but weakness and fatigue left me helpless. Alas, the helplessness of man! When he is in ecstasy and intoxicated with pleasure, at that very moment, he is also confined by his limitations. Light becomes darkness for him, and the dawn becomes a dark night.
Translation note: This article was translated by AI. View the original Telegram post.
