I used to think that the people in the Dharavi slum are unhappy, their life is incredibly difficult, but the life I saw there was a normal, simple life.
A lot of little shops, coffee shops, tiny houses, narrow streets. Everything was like a village. People around smiled, it seemed that they were very cooperative.
Nice kids ran along the dusty streets. The slum was not a place of sorrow, but a living part of India, an anthill in endless movement.
