To visit Mumbai in the monsoon is a kind of masochistic madness. Before you even arrive, the newspapers are full of stories of buildings collapsing in the unceasing downpour. If our heroic spacecraft were to document the traffic of the metropolis during the monsoon, the images would suggest a gigantic open-air car park.
The prospect of being trapped on the roads among the city’s hardened commuters has a damaging effect on my erratic work ethic; I elect to do the bare minimum. Half of the people I want to meet — an economist who writes lyrically, an investment banker who would

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