Outside Regal cinema at noon, there is only the dazzlingly, blindingly, achingly bright sunlight. Everything is too, too vivid. The shadows shorten until there's almost no shade any more. Taxicabs jostle for the little shade that is available. Where there's too little space for a taxi to park, the stray dogs sprawl and loll sleepily.
Pedestrians squint at the road while crossing.
In Colaba market, there are some dry brown cheecoos, oranges and a few apples. At the Wayside Inn, across the road, we sit in a drowsy stupor all afternoon, staring out at the tall drooping potted plants and the wilting passersby and the empty Art Plaza and the hot sunny stretch of road outside. In winter, young artists exhibit their work on the pavement outside the Jehangir, and if you're lucky you can find a gaily coloured pastel of a taxi stand, or of the David Sassoon Library where the shadows lengthen gently in the evenings around the old people who still come here to read. Returning, we stop by Crawford Market to stock up on a crate of beer. The dozens of shoe shops on Warden Road are doing brisk business with the advent of summer, when everyone wants new sandals.