THOUGH IT WAS nearly midnight, the highway was dense with traffic, motorbikes whirring through narrow gaps, all the horns a constant staccato. Ganesh Chaturthi was still a week away, but Mumbai was already preparing for this Hindu festival, which fills the city with hundreds of statues of the elephantheaded god, handmade papier-mâché and clay idols that are displayed and danced around for 10 days before being paraded and plunged into the sea. A half-built Ganesha loomed beside my gridlocked cab. He would be mud again before the month was over.
I was awestruck to watch a man bike past my window with a twin mattress balanced on the handlebars, but over the next few days cumbersome objects being transported on two wheels quickly became mundane—furniture, televisions, families of four, even…