The first rain since arrival arrives in the early hours of the morning. It does not last for long, but for long enough to attract enough mosquitoes to leave me a little more lumpy than when I went to sleep. I read in the morning paper that the cases of malaria and dengue fever in Mumbai are on the increase - it acts as my reminder to take one more of the 160-plus malaria tablets that I have been prescribed.

Outside, a crow is snacking on a roti (chapatti). Crows are symbolic of a family's ancestors in some branches of Hinduism - and are hence given an offering every day. It is as a part of the lengthy daily puja ritual, which pays respects to the Gods. The Gods are treated as guests and given a small portion of whatever food is being made.

We head to a local shop for some food supplies. Three men sit in a shack, on sacks of potatoes, onions and garlic. Flies engulf the next door vegetable store. The attendant carefully measures out 2.5kg of potatoes on traditional weighing scales.

Later I watch a small part of an Indian soap opera (it is only interrupted by a power cut which occur for around 30 minutes on average on a near-daily basis). I don't understand the language, but it seems to consist of lots of men with moustaches shouting at one another. I figure that those with the largest moustaches are the bad guys.