
Sign up to save your podcasts
Or


This week's episode is a little different. A few weeks ago, I unexpectedly wrote a love letter to my home: Mumbai. The beauty of this process was that I never went into that writing session expecting to produce the words that I did. But reading it back, I could hear and see every part of this essay, and I wanted to create something that could embody what Mumbai sounds like.
So I reached out to some of my best friends and asked them to send me voice recordings of things that reminded them of Mumbai. And every single one of them (I'm not exaggerating), said the same things. We didn't rehearse this, I didn't expect it. But when I saw it, I knew we all missed home in the same way.
This audio essay is a product of that love. Here's a celebration of home, and giving you a little taste of Mumbai.
Shoutout to my pals for being involved in this. I <3 u.
If you want to give some of my other essays a read, check out my blog The Modern Desi: https://medium.com/@eshapathak5
Instagram: @_eshapathak
By Esha PathakThis week's episode is a little different. A few weeks ago, I unexpectedly wrote a love letter to my home: Mumbai. The beauty of this process was that I never went into that writing session expecting to produce the words that I did. But reading it back, I could hear and see every part of this essay, and I wanted to create something that could embody what Mumbai sounds like.
So I reached out to some of my best friends and asked them to send me voice recordings of things that reminded them of Mumbai. And every single one of them (I'm not exaggerating), said the same things. We didn't rehearse this, I didn't expect it. But when I saw it, I knew we all missed home in the same way.
This audio essay is a product of that love. Here's a celebration of home, and giving you a little taste of Mumbai.
Shoutout to my pals for being involved in this. I <3 u.
If you want to give some of my other essays a read, check out my blog The Modern Desi: https://medium.com/@eshapathak5
Instagram: @_eshapathak