The Synagogue​ encounters

If I’d met Levi at a metro station or at work, I wouldn’t have given him a second glance. He looked more or less like an Indian, spoke Hindi and was dressed in a kurta. However, I met him at a place of worship where ive never been before and spoke a language that I couldn’t understand. How patriotic can one become towards a country which is not their homeland??? 

Earlier that day, my 70-year-old friend Ella, who’d been backpacking in India for the last 3 months, had come to Mumbai to see me. In the middle of exploring the city, a recently painted bright blue facade near Khala Ghoda caught our attention, Ella read something on it written in a foreign language. ‘’It’s a synagogue!’’ she exclaimed excitedly and hurried into the building, beckoning me inside.

There were a few men gathered inside, wearing rimless caps that I later learned were called kippahs. A tall, slender man with curly dark hair, mysterious eyes and sun-baked brown skin that hinted at exotic roots walked towards us. Ella greeted him with a “Shalom”, and he introduced himself to us as Levi. He was able to speak to Ella in Hebrew and quickly switch to Hindi with me. Who was he? While they spoke, I admired my surroundings.

It was my first time at a synagogue. The Keneseth Eliyahoo has Neoclassic architecture with Minton tile floors, the walls were painted in Victorian pale greens, contrasting with the matte white pillars, the Star of David painted in gold was a repeating element in the trusses. The setting sun cast a soft light that was broken into multiple rainbows by the stained-glass windows. I was then dragged into the conversation as Levi switched to Hindi to suggest me nearby local cafes to taste authentic Mumbai snacks and told about some of the oldest libraries around. I still kept wondering who this man was. Was he a hippie who had come to India and never left, or did he fall in love with an Indian and moved here for good? Before my mind could come up with more backstories, I interrupted him asking where he was from. He said “Dadar, Mumbai.” “You speak Hebrew though,” I wondered confusedly. What he told was nothing I had imagined. 

In 1939 Levi’s grandmother, who had lost her whole family in the Jewish genocide, was fleeing the country along with her 2 daughters and a son (Levi’s father) in a kind trader’s sailboat, after being refused by many countries who suspected they were Nazi spies, she finally found her way to Mumbai. Heartbreaking images of his grandmother spending weeks in the sailboat, waiting to see land, and her gnawing anxiety at not being let in flashed through my mind. “After that, Mumbai became our home and adopted us as its own without antisemitism unlike other cities in the world. However, we a shrinking community today, many people migrated to Israel and other European countries and I am happy for being able to renovate this place. Thanks to the local corporates who funded this. ” He said. When I asked him why he didn’t consider moving back, his eyes widened. He shrugged his shoulders and said, “I am an Indian.” It was that simple. And that overwhelming. 

As Ella and I made our way back home, we got caught in the evening rush, by the local train station, and were swamped in people- women wearing niqabs, men in turbans, students, office-goers in western formals, women in elegant saris, Catholic nuns, men with orange teeka and many tourists. It filled me with regret. 

Regret at all the times I cribbed about the densely packed local trains, all the times I scoffed at the constant crowds that ruined the serenity of Mumbai beaches, all the times I complained about the smaller living spaces and the traffic. Yes, Mumbai is a crowded city, but only because it has welcomed everyone. It opened its arms to so many immigrants from different places all over the world (including me!) and today, 25 million people call Mumbai home. I’m filled with pride and joy every time I am reminded of this city’s big heart.

“City of Dreams”

Also read – An Inspirational story of a Man who travelled from Bombay to Barcelona, his journey from sleeping in the streets to starting a cafe.

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13 thoughts on “The Synagogue​ encounters

  1. Beautiful ode to the city.. well written.. we are bursting at seams but still everyone finds a place. Mumbai is the best leveller in the world.
    Next time try searching for a Chinese Cemetery. Yes it exists in Mumbai

    1. Chinese cementery….Am not surprised!!
      This city is full of least expected yet inspiring stories.

  2. Really enjoyed your vision of Mumbai, I´ve also imagined it as a crowded city and never thought of this “hidden magic” and unique stories behind the chaotic city life, like the one of Levi´s grandmother. Although I should admit that after reading Shantaram I´ve already got inspired to visit so much. You have such a beautiful writing style – really enjoyed reading!

  3. This is such a beautiful written article on Mumbai. My heart was filled with pride and gratitude for the city.

  4. Nice read! Yes, Mumbai is a city of dream for many from different places. Even many Indians from different states come Mumbai to build up their career. I’v not visited this city yet, may be one-day will.

  5. Beautifully written. I got a tear in my eye reading about Levi’s family history. I haven’t been to Mumbai, I do know it’s crowded. But as you aptly said, that’s because it’s a city that welcomes everyone, regardless of their religions and races. Your experience tells me that Mumbai is a great place for reflection and contemplation.

  6. This is a beaurtiful post about Mumbai. Never been there (I have been to Delhi), not even to a synagogue. I sometimes complained of the crowd and traffic in any city. I try to avoid those places. then you mentioned because it has welcomed everyone including me. This is a good reminder to always appreciate things even if it’s not convenient for us. Thanks for sharing.

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