January, 2003… It was our last day in India and we were packing, getting ready to leave for the airport. Outside our hotel we could hear the joyful sounds of singing and laughter accompanying drums, trumpets and cymbals. I leaned out our hotel window and saw women and children dancing in celebration.

I have no idea what the occasion may have been, but it was vibrant and joy-filled – one of those ‘only in India’ moments.

Banganga Tank is my favourite place in Mumbai. It is tucked away at the end of a narrowing alley in the Malabar Hill area and it provides a quiet sanctuary from the frenzied pace of the city.

The tank was built in 1127 AD and is fed by a perennial spring. It is surrounded on four sides by winding passageways that lead to homes, temples, shrines and market stalls.

Sit on the steps that lead down to the waters, and watch daily life unfold – ritual bathers making offerings, funeral rites read by a Brahmin priest to family members, clothes and bodies are washed, herons wade watchfully to glimpse a fish, and children play.