The Art of Managing Time: A Gentle Journey Through Mumbai’s Lanes
Mumbai’s mornings, much like life itself, begin in a rush. The sun peers shyly through a haze of dreams and smog, and the city awakens with a throaty, resonant hum. As I sit by my window in a modest apartment overlooking a tree that stubbornly resists the urban sprawl, I ponder the essence of time. It is a companion that often rushes ahead, urging us to keep up, but I have learned to invite it to linger a little longer—much like an old friend over a cup of tea.
Time management is a term that feels far too clinical for the intimacy it shares with our lives. If I were to compare it to something tangible, I would think of money. Money, after all, isn’t just numbers in a ledger—it is the promise of freedom, a means to nurture dreams, and an enabler of life’s small pleasures. In the same way, time is not simply hours and minutes; it is the quiet afternoon spent in the shade of an obliging tree, the leisurely walk along Marine Drive as the sea whispers its secrets, and the hushed joy of reading an old book by candlelight during a rare Mumbai blackout.
I have come to see time not as a strict taskmaster but as a resource to be managed thoughtfully. Much like saving a few rupees for a cherished purchase, I save slivers of time for myself—for rest, for reflection, and for recovery. It is not about cramming schedules or filling diaries with obligations; it is about crafting a life that allows one to breathe and simply be.
Walking through the lanes of Mumbai, I often think of energy, that elusive currency of existence. Just as some places in the city replenish you—a stroll through Shivaji Park, a quiet evening at Banganga Tank—there are spaces and moments that drain you, much like the clamor of Churchgate station at rush hour. I have come to map my days much like one navigates the city. I make two columns in my mind: one for the things that fill my cup, like an afternoon nap or a warm chai, and another for the things that empty it, like long meetings or prolonged conversations with people who don’t understand silence.
In the balance of time and energy lies the secret of a contented life. I remind myself often that energy is not happiness. Energy is the ability to take the next step; happiness is the joy that sometimes follows. And when the day requires toil, it is self-discipline that sees us through—the quiet resolve to walk forward even when the feet are heavy.
Of course, there is wisdom in prioritization, a lesson I’ve borrowed from Stephen Covey’s The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People. His third habit, “Put First Things First,” reminds us to prioritize the most important tasks—those that align with our values—before everything else. I think of my week as a collection of small allotments. The most important joys—time with family, the pleasure of penning a story, the occasional trip to a bookshop—are slotted first, like the best pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. Everything else falls into place around them.
Each day, I like to choose a single highlight, inspired by Jake Knapp and John Zeratsky’s Make Time: How to Focus on What Matters Every Day. Their advice from the section on “Highlight” encourages identifying one key activity or goal that gives the day its purpose. It could be as simple as completing a draft of a story or as fleeting as watching the rain fall in perfect, unhurried lines. These small victories give the day its shape, a sense of purpose amidst the whirlwind.
And then, there is the rhythm of habit. A lesson from James Clear’s Atomic Habits tells us that consistency is the bridge between effort and ease. I block my days into manageable portions, grouping together tasks that flow naturally into one another. There is a quiet satisfaction in seeing a plan take shape, much like the joy of watching dough rise slowly in a warm kitchen.
As I write this, the afternoon sun casts long shadows on the city’s bustling streets below. Time, like Mumbai’s trains, does not stop for anyone. But perhaps, with a little care and intention, we can learn to ride it with grace—our journeys unhurried, our hearts unburdened.
Let 2025, I whisper to myself, be like a well-packed suitcase for a delightful trip—organized yet spacious, filled with essentials and room for surprises. And as the clock ticks gently on, I hold my cup of tea, grateful for the quiet gift of this moment.
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