transgress the chronological order in which these comments appear to pay a brief tribute to Bombay, at this time affected by violent terrorist attacks.
At 21:15 on Wednesday 19 November, I took a taxi that took me to the airport of Mumbai to return to Italy. More or less the same time, last Wednesday, were barefoot terrorist attacks. I'm shocked. And for various reasons. First, because the first night I passed behind the Taj Mahal, the Indo-Saracen style of that building now going to see fire all over the papers. The Taj Mahal, symbol of the richness of Mumbai, home to the luxury all the Italian brands have a store there. I wanted to stay one more week in India, and this could be the week to spend in Bombay to hear more Balsekar Ramesh, one of the reasons for this trip. He could not live here in this extraordinary city, dreams, polluted, crazy, yet vital, as few in the world. All I had been advised not to stay there. "I'll be disappointed," he had said. "It 's full of aggressive beggars," he had written. But Bombay won me over from the first moment, when waiting in line for taxis at the airport I met a prominent Muslim friendly, with sparkling green eyes, a beard and a luxurious white coat. We made the trip together and I explained the contradictions of India, embodied in his multimillion-dollar family business that for over a century, Indian Railway provides the hardware, without being listed and receive loans from banks (it is forbidden by his sect - growth - lend or borrow money with interest). He retired, his son - of course - a graduate of the London School of Economics who has left everything and took the reins of the family. And now ago good old cruises around the world with his lady. In short, Mumbai. Model of coexistence between Muslims and Hindus. Throughout my stay, despite the traffic, the crowd, the pressure of the beggars and sellers, even for a minute I felt unsafe in this city. Much less anxiety in Naples and Palermo, so to speak. And this in spite of its ten million inhabitants, and the vast slums that come to lap the international runways. In the "Maximum City" dedicate a new folder of photos, put up in a hurry this morning on my Facebook page, with all the love for the place that perhaps more than I miss the whole of India.
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