Maximum City - an urban nightmare

Mondays in Mumbai

Annoying horns, crackling firecrackers, the annoying digging noise of a digger somewhere, dust flying all over the place. Seems like a scene straight out of a day in Mumbai? Yes. What happens when you try to fill a water balloon and keep pouring water in beyond what the balloon can carry? That is exactly what is happening to Mumbai. Maximum city is bursting at its seams. Despite being a Mumbaiphile, despite how much it hurts me to write this piece, it is the truth!

To keep up with the urbanization spree, the infrastructure needs to grow. So everyone needs bigger roads and more buildings. And now, India is a growth story with Mumbai as one of its central characters. So, people are getting more affluent. As the standard of living increases, people grow aware of heretofore unknown entities like status symbols and so on. So, in a new phenomenon that is gripping Mumbai, people buy 4 cars per household! 2 small cars, and 2 SUVs, all for a family of maybe 4! Given the affluence, people hire a driver for a small sum a month and absolve themselves of the sorrows of driving in Mumbai. The result - the ever burgeoning need for more flyovers and even bigger roads! As the number of rich people grows, room at the bottom and the middle of the pyramid is let up and more poor people migrate into the city. This puts a pressure on public transport, the buses and trains in Mumbai, which till date have been hailed as the best in India! But even these have a set capacity which cannot be overshot.

The result - the balloon bursts. Crowds have become unimaginably huge such that traveling by public transport is literally painful. Augmented crowds lead to discomfort and whole lot of rage in an already stressed out city! Fine, so one could choose to travel in his own vehicle. But what will you do when someone chooses to take his SUV through rush hour traffic? He probably wouldn't realize the agony he is causing by choking up an arterial road in peak traffic, since he is perhaps being driven! And everybody else on the road has to put up with the ordeal of having to traverse a 20 minute distance in 2 hours. Add to the mess the pain of incessant honking, which adds on to the noise and unbeknownst to us augments our stress levels. Another major problem is the noise pollution that people in houses need to bear. An arterial road goes past their apartment building and they have to bear the noise of vehicles, sirens and honks all day and all night. This is a slow poison which has the capacity to increase stress levels and cause a whole slew of physiological as well as psychological problems!

What can be done? Well thankfully, a lot. In terms of urbanization, Mumbai is not the pioneer, nor is India, for that matter. So we have loads of precedents to fall back on. So, for the public transport infrastructure, decidedly we need wider roads, although not at the expense of trees and mangroves. We need more trains and more buses, or even more double decker buses! As far as road congestion goes, we can adopt rationing on the basis of number plates, as has been done in Brazil, which has the world's worst traffic congestion record. Or even adopt a penalty system for vehicles with single occupancy during peak hours, as has been done in Singapore. Another idea could be imposition of a prohibitively high tax on the third vehicle entering a household - a modification of the high purchase tax regime of Hong Kong. And as for the noise, well, putting up sound barriers or noise absorbent boards along arterial roads and expressways is a practice followed all over the developed world, to shield residential areas from road traffic noise. Surprisingly that mechanism is totally absent in India. Provincial parks and anointed green zones are essential in Mumbai, to check pollution levels as well.

All in all, strong and immediate steps need to be taken to preserve Mumbai's sanity. Or the very things that attract people to Mumbai and keep them there could turn to haunt them and perhaps even shoo them away!

Judgement day a year and a half later - the frivolity of it all.

This morning's paper was full of gyaan on Ajmal Amir Kasab. Again. It reminded me of the week in November 2008, where we had only news of the terror attack in the news, in the papers, on the streets, everywhere! Yesterday was judgement day. Almost all of India knew he was guilty, since all of us were treated to terror television through November 2008! And now finally after a year and a half was the time to put a stamp on what was already known. And this stamp was important, since I guess the world wanted to see whether our judges are trained enough to pass a judgement based on evidence alone, without being swayed by emotion. I guess we have paid a very heavy price to prove this to the world!

First, this lone surviving terrorist has been in custody for a year and a half. At humongous costs to the taxpayer. With a special cell, special food, additional security personnel, everything needed to protect the terrorist from himself and his own people, the costs have been high and they have been mounting. Secondly, the terrorist has been going in a flipflop, confessing, denying, mocking, laughing and annoying courts, and his security personnel. The drain on the police has been enormous as well. They are being forced to be civil to one who has killed several of their own. They also have to protect him, feed him, and see his mocking face everyday, and these tasks are painful reminders of the past. Thirdly, what about the families of the victims? Imagine seeing the face of one who has robbed your loved ones from you being flashed across papers and the TV for a year and a half. Think about the trauma associated with realizing that a guy responsible for murdering hundreds of innocent civilians, some of whom were related to you still has the gift of life, despite having stolen that gift from your friends and family.

And finally, what is the way out? People say 'Hang him to death.' But wasn't this a suicide mission in the first place? If he is indeed given the death penalty, he will end up achieving what he set out to achieve anyway, albeit a year and a half late. Does it make sense to punish a pawn with death, while the real perpetrators still roam free? So should he be kept alive? Well, all of the above realities will then persist till eternity. What is the way out? I don't know, for sure. All I do know is that either way, at least in this case, terrorism has indeed won! We are filled with a helpless form of disgust, where the choices make no sense. A terrible outcome for one of the worst instances of heartless terrorism this world has seen. A pity that it had to be Mumbai at the receiving end again.

MUMMMM- BAI

It's sultry and hot outside. The sun keeps beating down on mere mortals like me most mercilessly. The time - 9 am. I am on vacation and my mind is wired that way now. Prospect of physical work, even if that means simply washing my coffee mug seems anathemic! And I feel thankful to the lady who waltzes into my house at half past 9, and cleans up the mess made over all of yesterday. For the world she is my 'bai', or my hired help, but for me, she's GOD!

Getting the perfect Bai is impossible. The hunt is akin to finding the perfect husband. Don't laugh at my comparison. Try living in a city like Mumbai, where half our life is spent running behind local trains and the other half is spent stuck in traffic. With the kind of building and construction work happening on every road in Mumbai, whether or not air is ubiquitous, dust and dirt certainly is. So, it becomes even more essential to have someone who will clean the house and leave it spic and span and shining day after day. Else it wouldn't take too much effort to convert a cute urban Mumbai house into a Gothic cobweb covered castle. Nah.. the enormous space of a castle can never belong to a Mumbai house. Or let me say that a sprawling Mumbai house is as much a reality as say the tooth fairy.

So, now that we know that the Bai is indispensable, finding the right and best one is the hunt for El Dorado. Each time you hire someone, you strike a compromise. It's either their pay, the work they'd do, or even their leave policy. Not that they have casual leaves and privilege leaves, leave policy here is whether they would go on informed leave or go AWOL! Simple! And once you hire them, soon you find that they do not really deliver all that they promise in the first place. So, utensils may still show signs of what was for dinner yesterday or the corners would be swept so clean that every week a petrified me would need to run armed with a broom, behind a genetically modified spider. And the minute you try expressing your displeasure, they retort Channel V style, 'Itna Paisa mein Itnaich Milenga'. That is still fine. You can put up with that statement and ask them to raasta naapo. The worst is when they tag you. Not Facebook style, but when they say you do a lot of kitkit. Now kitkit is an epithet they use if you express your displeasure, albeit much too often. And like gossip, this tagging spreads like wildfire in the Bai community and they are as close knit as perhaps the Russian Mafia. (Psst, some of their tactics are similar as well).

And then comes the whole chutti aspect. They have hundreds of thousands of relatives in their Gaaon. What Gaon, God knows. And they have to attend every wedding, every child birth, every birthday, Gaon devi's Puja, Ganpati's Puja, Grandfather's brother's wife's uncle's grandson's first food function. And each such jaunt would imply leave for a minimum of 1 week and a maximum of 'Kabhi aayegi? Maalum Nahin Bhabhi'. Don't even get me started on the hunt for a makeshift Bai who is called Badli. A Badli Bai is looked down upon, as if she is someone who cannot hold on to a steady job. And one can't even tell the Badli Bai to hunt out the errant spider, since she can simply walk off, and not give a badli for the badli bai. You get the drift?

The Bai stories can be plenty. But as I sit back with my coffee and the newspaper, I need to thank my stars for my current Bai who is a thorough professional and does a clean job.

I guess I spoke too soon, for my watchman just told me that the All Bai union has pulled out a strike and every Bai walking towards my part of the city is being forcibly told to walk back home or 'face the consequences'. Sigh! The house needs to be swept and swabbed. The sink is full of utensils, I wonder why I had that dinner party last night. The sun is still pelting down on us. Life could not get any better. And my Bai is missing.

Congeniality in Mumbai

The people you interact with while commuting, to a very great extent make or break your mood for the day. So, a grumpy cabbie or a rude bus conductor has the potential to keep you grouchy throughout the day, and you wouldn't even realize why you're cranky all day. So, a pleasant demeanor honestly means a lot.

I, for one, swear by the friendliness of Mumbai's support system. Be it bus conductors, cabbies, guys at the ticket counter in railway stations, auto drivers, everyone. I remember, once, several years ago, I had forgotten my purse at home and had boarded the bus to college. I hunted frantically in my bag, for my purse, but couldn't find it. I told the same to the bus conductor. As per rules, he could have told me to get off. But instead, he let me go on to my destination and gave me a ticket and paid for it himself! I was honestly touched by the gesture.

Again, cabbies in Mumbai are very very mild mannered. If you seem interested, they engage you in a conversation about their cars, the weather, perhaps even their kids! Like the other day, one cabbie told me that the heat in the city was going over the roof, and so, several cabs were stalling midway! Then came a lengthy discussion on the flipsides of global warming!!! Another cabbie, once spoke about his kids, and how he educated his daughter such that she then went on to work in the UK! And by and far the best thing about autos and cabs in Mumbai is the fact that you can travel in peace, without worrying about a prospective bout of haggling. The numbers shown by the bright LED lights, defines what you pay. No one-and-a-half, or 'Pathu ruva potu kudungama' (10 rupees over and above the meter), or even haggling for a 10 minute auto ride.

Not meaning to be disrespectful or biased towards any particular city, but one thing I've noticed in smaller cities is the gross lack of respect towards a customer. So, once, I was commuting a short distance and as was wont in that city, we were haggling over how much we'd be willing to pay. The auto guy literally lost his temper and screamed at us saying, if you can't pay 50 bucks, walk the distance! Don't chew my brains. Being the thoroughbred Mumbaikar, I was shocked at the remark, since I could not imagine being spoken to like that in Maximum City! And that was when I realized that when a place grows from being a town to a city to a metropolis to a megalopolis, one, the people need to grow as well, and two, the support system needs to grow and understand the intricacies of people skills and dealing with customers! Perhaps Mumbai is wayyyy ahead on that learning curve and I thank God for that!!!

Driving me crazy!!

There perhaps was something providential in my radio playing 'you drive me cra-e-a-e-zy' today. After a whole year of staying away from the pleasures of driving I made bold and got behind the wheel today to go and pay my respects to the Sea Link. And thankfully I did remember that the right-most pedal is the accelerator and that I need to hit the clutch to change my gearshift! But that knowledge was not enough for me, given my subequent tryst with Mumbai traffic, since I was stomping on the brake at least double the number of times I depressed the clutch and the accelerator put together!

A one year hiatus from driving has not dulled my driving skills. But it sure has blunted the memories of Mumbai traffic from my mind. People always tell me that traffic in Mumbai is a lot more disciplined than traffic in Delhi, or Chennai or any other city in India for that matter. And this comes just when I complain to my friends about the gross disregard shown to drivers by cabbies who run a drag race of their own from traffic signal to traffic signal! I can only imagine then, how traumatic life can be for those who need to drive in those other cities.

So, never mind the incessant wait in never-ending traffic snarls. Never mind the billowing smoke that emanates from the random truck whose gas pipe is so conveniently at the level of your open car window! As long as there is the radio, though I wish they'd play more music and talk lesser, and as long as you're ok to go on with closed windows, life is cool, well comparatively cooler! But hell breaks loose when an aspiring grand prix driver in a black and yellow cab suddenly decides that a red light turning to green is akin to the 'five lights illuminate and they go out, and the Mumbai Grand Prix is GO' signal!! Unfortunately people slowly getting back to grips with the pleasures of driving are caught in the fray, HEADLONG. And then start the observations.

People are always in a hurry. Especially those on two wheels. They go as far to the edge of the signal as they possibly can, and when the light turns green they race like as though in a MotoGP so that they can zip past the next signal and the next maybe before those lights turn red! And much as you're concerned about protecting your car, you worry more about their life, since a simple nudge by a car is perhaps enough to kill them! Ford was right - a car is indeed a lethal weapon, and given the spate of hit-and-runs, looks like the RTO is indeed handing over licenses to kill to our aspiring 18 year olds! So, silent prayers and occasional 'gadha kaheen ka' gaalis later, you move on and come to yet another signal. This one is red and you drum your steering wheel to the tune that's playing and 'Uff teri adaa' is interrupted by a loud honk. Why? the traffic signal has a second ago turned green and the car behind you thinks you have launch control a-la F1 cars! Alas, even a Ferrari F430 gives 0 to 100 kmph in 3.5 seconds!!! But who cares, what if you had fallen asleep behind the wheel? The guy behind you is doing you a favor here!!

And finally comes the car driver or cabbie who thinks he is on a motor bike. He zips and zooms as fast as he can and that is ok. You'd perhaps stay faaaaaaar away from those species. The issue is when he thinks he can push his car through a gap between a truck and your car and in the process leaves a dirty gash all over the side of your car. Never mind the spoilt appearance. The biggest problem is coming home and explaining that the source of the gash was errant driving by a lunatic on the road and not a need for speed from your side! But that argument seldom ever flies and you perhaps end grounded for a week!

But in terms of driving in Mumbai now, with the higher income levels and the increased proliferation of drivers who drive in gay abandon with scant regard towards the well-being of cars both under and around them, being grounded is perhaps the best thing that could happen to you!!!

Mumbai and the Mumbaikar - as viewed by everyone else

So.. the last goodbyes were said after exchanging promises of staying in touch. And today, life begins again in Maximum City. And after having spent a whole year outside, I had to put in something on how others perceive Mumbai and its inhabitants - the Mumbaikars. But first, 2 lines on my immediate reactions. I came in at around 2 am last night, and as has perhaps been written right here in the past, the city was as vibrant as ever. The people at the airport, totally friendly, cabbies, security guards, everyone. And no matter what anyone may say, humid or otherwise, 29 degrees is on any day better than scorching 45 degrees!!!

Now, outside Mumbai, and within India, Mumbai evokes totally contrasting reactions. One of awe, like, admiration and aspiration and another of being intimidated, disgusted and overwhelmed. And the former reactions do not emanate from a Mumbaikar, but rather both these sets of reactions come from people who have lived a while in Mumbai.

So some, who like a city for its people, find Mumbai immensely friendly. And this I can vouch for myself. People here are friendly. Now, you can't expect Japanese style cordiality or congeniality, but people won't snap at you, or cabbies won't insult you if you ask them to change a route midway. You can count on the person standing next to you to help you with a heavy bag, perhaps even without your asking for assistance if you are female. And as a city, it is very very safe for women, since well, people are much too busy running behind their own lives to actually think lecherously about a woman on the street! And so, some people who like to be left to live their life and make it the way they want to enjoy the city for its 'bindaas' nature. They enjoy the pace, the continuous run to be at the top of your game, and the positive attitude of people towards work and merit.

And then there is the other category, who hate Mumbai. All they see are the slums, the congested roads, the traffic snarls, the crowds and so on. They perhaps hail from smaller or more laid back cities and literally get intimidated by the pace and stress on meritocracy in Mumbai. They yearn for the idyllic lifestyle back in their old cities/towns and detest every waking moment in Maximum City, maybe because this stress on Maximum and extremes is a bit tough to handle! And I must admit. Mumbai is unforgiving in pushing her inhabitants to the extreme. Be it the rents or having to endure the crowds in public transport. Then again, some who come here to follow a dream and believe in the dream real bad, stick it through and once the teething troubles are endured, there comes a point of inflexion, post which they are initiated into the land of the Mumbaiphile, whence there is no return to falling in love with another Indian city.

And the former group perceives Mumbaikars as being bindaas, chilled out, fun-loving people, who bear malice towards none. The latter group, though looks at Mumbaikars as being arrogant, headstrong, non-adjusting and to some extent even conceited. I may be wrong in my assessment, but this is a glaring trend that I have perceived in my interactions. Now should a Mumbaikar be perturbed by these perceptions? I guess, given that we are carefree and bindaas, as what we'd like to be known as, the latter perception should perhaps be read in the light of the prejudices of the perceivers themselves and so can maybe be disregarded, after due consideration has been given to the veracity of these perceptions. Are we by any chance too carefree to be perceived as being arrogant? Are we too focused to be perceived as being selfish? Maybe just a reflective thought by the sea side every once in a while, but not before smelling the sweet salty air of the Arabian Sea.

For all other practical purposes - for all Mumbaikars, irrespective of what they may be perceived to be, Mumbai was, is and perhaps will always be their true love...

Mumbai - Please leave my city as she is

I am a Mumbaiphile. I love everything about my city - the people, the lifestyle, the culture, the vivacity, the safety, the public transport infrastructure, the everything. Yeah, I know, people may exclaim, "Public transport? Dangling on the foot board of a Virar local is public transport?" All I can say is, well, we at least have a Virar Local, unlike several other cities, where one needs to call a cab to get to places, let alone hail one on the roads. So comparatively Mumbai is a lot better.

But of late, the more I mention Mumbai with the fervence and affection of a Carrie Bradshaw (The New Yorkphile from the show Sex and the City), people look upon me derisively. They say that I speak fondly of a city that is apparently only for the Marathi people. And I feel like screaming - Mumbai would lose its charm if it became yet another vernacular city. I know how tough it was for me, despite being a southie to find my way in a city like Thrissur in Kerala. All signboards were in Malayalam, hardly anyone spoke Hindi, let alone English and my sign language skills just got perfect post my stint there! I can't begin to imagine my city without my Hindi, Marathi, Gujarati, Tamil and Telugu speaking friends. In fact the multi-lingualism is what defines the pot-pourri called Mumbai.

India alone is home to several 100 languages and dialects. The Constituion of India recognizes 18 regional languages. Which is why we have a national language - Hindi. Granted, one language should not supplant another. But trying to fractionally distillate a country that has finally merged into one united entity (calls for separate states notwithstanding) is not just counter-productive, it is wrong. Imagine petroleum. It takes millions of years to form and only a few hours to fractionate. At least some good comes out of the fractionation process, but dividing a country as diverse as India on the basis of language, serves no purpose whatsoever.

Take the example of politicians blaming actors for supporting Pakistani cricketers for the IPL. I find that rather funny. The purpose of a sport or music is to unite warring factions. This has been the case right from the days of the Olympics, when all wars were suspended during the period of the games. And now statements like 'SRK is a Muslim first and an Indian later' are ridiculous. Both SRK and Aamir Khan have Hindu wives! How on earth can they possibly be religious fanatics??? Just to score media brownie points, our politicos make statements and that really shows our country in poor light.

Several foreign countries would do anything to have our kind of diversity - geographic, cultural, linguistic - you name it, we have it. And we, instead of thriving on it, squander it away on mindless, petty things. I hope we realize the gift we have and learn to cherish it, before it's too late. Mumbai, my city the way I know it, is great just because it is a melting pot of cultures and languages. I hope no one kills the soul of my city by bringing in mindless divisions, that serve no purpose whatsoever.

26/11 one year on...

26/11 - One year ago, Maximum City was ripped apart by terrorists who took India's commercial capital hostage. Terrorists who hurt Mumbai's elite core. One year ago, a few people valiantly fought the terrorists, in spite of being ill-equipped. A few lost their lives trying to protect the rest of us. We watched terror TV sitting in our living rooms, getting angry at the way the city was being plundered. We watched as news channels left security and the efforts of the security forces to the wind in the rage to capture the 'juiciest' footage. We saw the smirking face of terror. We read horror stories of differential treatment meted out to the injured at the Taj versus the injured at CST (not sure how much of that was true and how much was journalistic justice) . We saw a visibly shaken and battered Ratan Tata at the Taj premises. We heard stories of brave Taj staff, who put duty ahead of themselves while saving the lives of their guests. We heard poignant stories of an orphaned 2 year old and his brave nanny. We watched in horror the terror attack on Mumbai that lasted for days that seemed like it lasted forever. What has happened since then?

One year on - the tears have dried up, the blood stains washed away, the cries for justice have been muted. The Taj opened on 21st December last year - a sign of true resilience. Trains plied from CST the very next day.The 2 year old orphan makes an appearance in some papers. The smiling assassin is still languishing in prison, though most Mumbaikars wanted him dead a year ago. The masterminds are still at large. Security has been beefed up. Terror bills have been passed.

What remains is hope. A Satyagraha of sorts is on against Pakistan, in the hope that Pakistan takes steps to rein in the reign of terror. (Although as we speak, Pakistan has graver issues of her own). Hoping for a proper culmination of the anti-terror efforts, the incumbent government has been elected at the center and the state. Hope, as usual, still exists. Hope of a safer tomorrow and more balanced justice. Hope that the lives lost have not been lost in vain...

Mumbai on Monday - Life in the FAST lane

Just got back from Maximum City, and as was the plan, here is my post today on Mumbai on Monday. The city seldom ever ceases to amaze me. The sights, sounds, vibrancy, and life in general, kinda make me feel alive again when I set foot in Mumbai. Ok ok, I know I sound like the typical 'madly in love with Mumbai' kinda person. But I can't help it. Mumbai ends up doing that to people.

But one thing that really appeals to me is the pace of the city. And the difference is more pronounced each time one goes from Mumbai to another city or the other way round. I remember when we'd go to another city for hols as children, we'd be made to wake up by 6 or 7 am by the elders of the house, and try as we might, the day would pass so very slowly. Take Mumbai in comparison - life is forever in the fast lane. Turn around and it's 11 am. Take a walk and look at the watch, it is 2 pm. Do I like that? Yes I do. But many don't! This affection towards the pace of the city is an acquired taste, more like how one acquires a liking toward the taste of wine! People complain about how one never has time in Mumbai, and how everyone is perennially impatient. I like the pace of the city, because there is always something to do, all the time, and there is no scope for an empty, idle mind! You get a sense of productively using your time and at least I feel a sense of accomplishment when the day is done!

But one flip side is the fact that almost everyone is in a perennial hurry, as displayed by the intolerant horns that blare the second a traffic signal turns green. Or for that matter the gross disregard for a vehicle backing out of a building in reverse. The onward vehicle has 0 regard for the vehicle moving in reverse and yet again the horns return - while at times the impatience is exacerbated to a level of knocking off a tail light!

But that is one part of Mumbai that we cannot disregard, and perhaps have to live with. And for all the other good stuff, a few tiny aberrations are ok, what say fellow Mumbaikars?

What I saw Wednesday and thought on Thursday

Yup, in Maximum city now. Back to the sounds, sights, lights, life of Mumbai. And yes, it's Ganpati time, festival time!!! Ganpati is here, in every nook and corner, and this was what I truly missed on Sunday when I was not here for Ganpati for the first time in my life ever. So this post is going to cover my 'views' and thoughts on La fiesta en la Mumbai.


I had put in a post last year describing 'Why rains in India make so much noise'. Back then, I had written about how we celebrate our festivals, beginning with Janmashtami and going on through Dashera, Eid and Diwali. So, I won't be repeating myself here, and talking about how we bring Ganpati home, keep him at home and celebrate his presence and so on. This time, my take is going to be on a slightly different metaphysical level of consciousness. Nah! Nothing profound, I just wanted to use those words!!!

So, I for one, generally have seen that the less exposed one is to the 'upward' way of life, the happier they are. The maximum quarrels happen inside the closed confines of a car, not while packed like sardines - four on a scooter. As one moves on in life the endless pursuit of the top spot, I feel, makes one forget the finer, sweeter things in life. This was the theme of my Ithaca post as well. In fact, I have put in quite a few posts on these themes, and I'll link back to them at the end of the post. Now, given that it's Ganpati time, and its a festival for the masses, this feeling is even more pronounced and this is what I saw when I went for the Visarjan (immersion) of our idol.

At the Visarjan place, it was amazing to see so many people, so many children, all running around, enjoying the moment. It was a major event in their lives - people pushing their idols on hand-carts, children screaming 'Ganpati Bappa Morya' while running behind the hand cart. Most of these were street children, who lived around the tank, but wanted to savor a part of the whole event. Some enthusiastic children took it upon themselves to try to regulate traffic as the Ganpati Cart made its way to the Visarjan tank. People were throwing Gulaal all over the place. There were vendors selling soap bubble kits, whistles, blow horns, balloons, food and what not. No masks on peoples' face - Swine Flu might as well go take a hike! The street kids would crowd around anyone who was distributing sweets as Prasad, screaming 'Aunty mujhe do na Prasad'. The street kids were so chirpy and cheerful, and so, I wondered, with awe - they have no idea how their lives are going to shape up in the years to come, let alone the fact that they may not really have the security of two square meals a day in the years to come. But preoccupation, they had none. Worries and cares, they showed none on their countenance.

But the biggest rap on my head came from this child I saw. He was polio stricken, with crooked legs and hence he used his hands to move around. He was there with a bunch of his friends, and all his friends were crowding around the wired barricades surrounding the pool to watch the immersions. This kid wanted to see the proceedings too, and so he tugged at the pants of one of his friends, who immediately hoisted him up and sat him down on the parapet wall around the barricades. Clinging tightly to the pole, this child watched as the idols were being taken for immersion, and the smile on his face could have lighted up the whole of India. After a while, his friends wanted to leave, and maintaining the same smile on his face, the child hobbled away on his hands behind his friends.

Tiny things bring joy to people. But somewhere the pursuit of an unknown perceived good makes us forget what we have right now. We are left glossing over what may be right for us, without caring about the smaller things around us that can help us derive simple satisfaction. And then again, you cannot but fail to remember Davies - "What life is this if full of care, we have no time to stand and stare."

And here are the links to older posts that carry a similar theme -
Why Rains in India make so much Noise - The Ganpati edition
Why Rains in India make so much Noise - The Ganpati edition - part 2
My Ithaca post
The finer nuances
kids!

All that I came back to - Part 1

Enigma in the background, filter coffee in hand, rains outside the window, mild cloudy atmosphere, perfect food for thought...

As one moves on in life, situations and surroundings change and each change brings with itself a new perspective. Each perspective in turn adds on to one's kitty of thoughts, memories and learning, which at the end of the day, when one looks back at a life led, makes the life look full and complete. Does that sound abstract enough? Maybe. But a change from a certain way of life certainly makes you think back on the life that was, and appreciate all the smaller things that you perhaps leave behind. This and my undying love for maximum city formed the basis of my writings on 'All that I leave behind - Part I to IV, with many more to follow. And now, on my small 'back home' sojourn, I have begun to look at All that I left behind with a deeper shade of nostalgia and an even greater appreciation towards the smaller things that make life ... complete.
Ok, so let me cut to the chase. For me, life is a collage of incidents. What makes the whole thing beautiful is the way in which some people manage to make this collage very colorful and pretty, and each time you think back about this collage, you come out with a huge smile on your face.

So here is a small list of things I came back to.

• A place where they don't make Lauki and Turai together (I have no idea what those vegetables are. My mess made those two vegetable dishes look identical, and Aneesha's reaction that betrayed something like 'SACRILEGE! TREASON! PUNISHMENT FOR SUCH A CRIME SHOULD BE DEATH BY THE GUILLOTINE!!!' kinda gave me the idea that maybe... just maybe these two vegetables don't go together.
• Filter coffee - the elixir of life. The magical brown nectar that is the essence of a southie's life.
• Rains - the real deal. Monsoons where clouds gather, winds blow, the environs get cloudy and romantic, aaaaaaaaaaaaand, surprise surprise - IT RAINS AS WELL!!!
• Trains, buses and traffic jams - When one misses every aspect of the city, these things that form the life of the city, are missed as well. I missed the noise, the vibrancy, the continuous lively chatter of the city.
• My people. People who have been with me through different walks of life. Such people, after meeting whom, I come back with sweeter memories. Chief, who of his own, remembered my birthday and called me up while I was sitting alone and homesick in a remote room on campus, missing home, friends, and getting tense about exams! Chief, who when I went to meet him the other day got out of an important meeting, just to come and talk with me for a while! Nadu and Bakhtu, - my first friends in the corporate world, the sweetest people ever, Teepoo, who only counted down to my time of arrival in Mumbai some 1000 times, Bond and Rohit, JC, Sangy, Shilpu, all from a part of my life I had left behind over a year ago! Why? There was no reason why they took the time out of work to spend time with me. There was no reason why they spent time with me and then worked late that evening, to catch up with deadlines. With tiny gestures, they effectively made one person very very happy. And then, my kiddie buddy, Archi, who still counts me as an important part of her life, in spite of all the myriad changes happening in her life. And what matters the most to me is the fact that after meeting all these people, their statement to me is, 'it felt so nice to see you after so long!' My day was effectively made!

But the fact of the matter is, that spending time away from all these things that matter to me has made me appreciate them all the more. Things which till now were taken as a given, now mean a lot more to me, than they did before. All I can say is - VIVA LA VIDA! three cheers to life in all its forms - family, friends, city, home, people and relationships.

My first tryst with the Bandra Worli Sea Link

July 1 2009. Momentous day for all us Mumbaikars. Many called us (read me) insane. A bridge was being opened, and I was feeling sad that I couldn't be there to go cruising on it. For me though it was not just a bridge. It was the Bandra-Worli Sea Link, called a modern engineering marvel by the designers. Now, whether it is an engineering marvel or whatever, is something left for my civil engineer friends to debate, comparing the Golden Gate with BWSL, and so on. For me, the BWSL (Bandra Worli Sea Link) was something that would redefine the Mumbai landscape forever. Why am I so attached to some piece of infrastructure being developed in Mumbai? Well, the answer lies in the fact that I - like almost all of my friends who sat together lamenting the fact that we were away from the sea link - am a true Mumbai-phile - one who loves anything and everything about Mumbai - from the Vada Pav to the rains, from the people to the trains! So, yesterday while I was finally on my way home, my list of things to do included an 'I HAVE TO VISIT THE SEA LINK' entry. Getting home, after downing my cup of filter coffee, I started 'pataoing' dad to take me on the sea link. Heavy rains rocked Mumbai all of yesterday, and even more rains were forecast for today. My dad was a little wary. He wasn't too keen on agreeing to the plan up front, but, the blackmailing power of a homesick girl coming home after 3 whole months is rather immense, (as dad soon found out).

Today, as though on cue, it rained, and rained but thankfully not as much as it did yesterday! So after some more rounds of pataoing and promising never to ask him to go driving in colossal rains again, dad relented. We decided to leave at 9 pm, go to the sea link, approach it from Worli and return through Bandra. Ta daa!! It didn't rain all evening, and I thought that perhaps I had sold too low - my promise of never asking dad to take me on a drive in pouring rain (asking him to let me drive in a drizzle, let alone a downpour would be imbecile, let alone futile!!!) was perhaps too high a price! Call it winner's curse if you will? But as though the rain Gods were reading my nefarious thoughts, it started to rain, and rain it did indeed! We were somewhere crossing Worli Naka to enter Sea Face when it rained like the clouds were out to empty their store on just this one night. My dad was driving at the pace of, well a snail, since he could not see beyond his own nose! He looked at the rear view mirror and gave me a look that conveyed a whole host of emotions ranging from ' I told you so' to 'GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR' to 'Pampering hamein kis mode pe le aaya......' A sheet of drops thudded down the car, while I chose to maintain a dignified silence. As we drove on, we realized that we had entered Sea Face, and there, slowly moving away from my field of vision was the Sea Link on my right. I screamed out! 'We missed it.. It's gone, now we'll hit Haji Ali and have to retrace all the way back!!!' Exasperated, dad just said, " The entry is on the other side of the road. It's called the Bandra Worli Sea link for a reason - The ease of entry and exit is from Bandra to Worli, not the other way round. We would need to traverse the whole length of the sea face, to make a U turn and take the road that leads up to your dearest bridge." Afraid that any protests might result in either me being 'de-carred' (as in de-planed) or in a U turn that'd lead back home instead of to the sea link, once again, I chose my dignified silence. The rain continued to pelt down mercilessly, the speed of the wiper was 10 times that of my car, the guy ahead of us was even slower, and the guy behind us decided to pull up to the side flashing his distress signal. My mind kept screaming ' Dignified Silence, Dignified Silence'. Finally, we reached the curb, and took a U turn, and traversed the whole Sea Face again, to hit the entry point of the sea link.

A wave of emotion swept through me and forgetting my resolve of 'dignified silence' I just let out a whistle of awe! Yes, it is an imposing structure, and the feel of whizzing on it, while imagining the sea underneath was truly immense. Add to that, the fact that the rain was pelting us from up above, while we could imagine the sea lashing at the pillars of the bridge from down below. It felt like creative poetry of sorts! I know, some would call me crazy, but who cares, it felt awesome! Smooth roads, no congestion, people driving like civil human beings, felt like as if I was in another plane altogether! And then we reached the section of the suspension bridge. The part of the bridge that is generally seen in all pictures and images - the picture that evokes images and the inevitable comparison to Golden Gate. the gradual triangular picture of the cables slowly rising up, culminating at the peak of the pillar and then descending back in a perfectly isosceles manner honestly left me thinking about Rembrandt! Ok Rembrandt is perhaps an overstatement, let me say Rothko. (Who else models pictures on geometrical shapes???) And then within around 10minutes, we were at the end of the link, and at Bandra! Fast and fabulous was what came into my mind, and I thought back about the numerous times I spent almost an hour and a half in the bus to college at Bandra! If only I were a few years younger and were going to college at Bandra now, I would wake up at 8 for an 8.15 class!!! Well, if I were wishing things like that, I guess I have a separate wish list. Anyway, I somehow felt that I had paid my respects to a new development in Maximum city, given the due that the creation needed.

But somehow I felt I wanted to do this again, perhaps approach BWSL from B instead of W??? So, all through our return journey back home from Bandra, I embarked on another pataoing session, this time careful to avoid mentions of promises, and monsoons, but rather playing the 'thank you sooooo much', 'I am soon heading back out of here' card, much to my dad's chagrin. The pataoing is still on, and when it produces the desired results, I will tell you about my BWSL part 2 - the daytime story... Till then.. tata...

All that I leave behind Part IV

Friends of mine called up yesterday from Mumbai to tell me that the rains have struck Mumbai at last. And here I am in the Indian Hotland, with the sun beating down upon me incessantly, and today evening, as I walked with a vacant mind, I thought again - here was yet another piece of 'all that I left behind'....

The famous rains of Mumbai. Not everyone likes them. Like in the case of wine, appreciating Mumbai rains is an acquired taste. For someone like me who loves every aspect of Mumbai - the salty wind, the rains, the people, the lifestyle, the everything, liking Mumbai rains is a given. I remember when I was a kid, my day during the monsoons would begin with an expectant look out the window, to see how cloudy or rainy the day looked. Colossal rains implied a shadow day at school, a day of simply hanging out with friends, since all teachers would be absent. Rainy days meant splashing water all over the place on the walk home, wading through knee deep water even though there existed a route home away from the water-logged part. As we moved from the care-free days of school to the days of work, rainy days were looked upon with disdain, since rain or shine, work never waited. And a wet, drenched, gooey commute later, we'd get to work only to repeat the exercise on the way home. But the silver lining in a dark, cloudy, rainy working day would be taking a hot shower after coming home wet, and then curling up on the couch with a piping hot cup of coffee, while Yanni would play in the background, and the rain drops would trickle beautifully down the large windows. And how can rains be complete without a trip to Worli Sea face or Marine Drive during the cloudy, rainy days? Just to see the huge waves splashing against the wave breakers, releasing their unbridled energy in the form of a salty spray that upon touching your face would leave your face with a smile and your heart full of ebullient joy.

So, when my friends told me about the advent of Mumbai rains, I tried to transport myself off to Mumbai, and imagined myself at the sea side, with a tapri wala chaai and a vada pav, drinking in the beautiful salty smell of the sea wind, sitting on the katta of sea face, with all my 'aquaphilic' friends, talking and watching the unending expanse of gray, far into the horizon, where the gray sea met the gray cloudy sky, and then suddenly as though hearing my thoughts, two drops of rain fell on my face, and my day felt complete.....

All that I leave behind - Part II

Been over 10 days since I last wrote, and almost a week since I left my favorite city to start a year of self discovery and learning at a place totally new to me. So far, the journey has been uneventfully smooth. Thanks to technology, the communication with loved ones goes on uninterrupted, and so, that is one distance that has been effectively bridged. Nothing comes as close to personal interactions, but still, something is better than nothing at all! And of course, the heady feeling associated with meeting new people, getting acclimatized to new surroundings, new routines, still hasn't lost its sheen. So till the patina settles, I guess the mind has enough to be occupied. But there are still some things, that hold on to me. Some things that stay close and dear, and make me lie awake at night at times, staring up into the ceiling, in vivid imagery! Call me insane, or call me change-averse, but I still miss a dozen things intrinsic to Mumbai, rather my life in Mumbai. Do scenes of Mumbai actually leave me sleepless, you ask? Well, it has to do more with the people I left behind at Mumbai, juxtaposed with specific places in Mumbai. The events may be old, but the images are crystal clear and the memories are well, as fresh as a daisy.

The 5 days of bliss, with my dearest friend as we watched 3 movies back to back, phaadoed 3 liters of milk in one day, wondering what to do with the spoils (literally), went off for a looooooong stroll across Marine Drive and came back only to smell LPG in the house the next morning, wondering who to call (Gas Busters perhaps), making a call to someone who lived in a continent 17 hours away, to ask for crisis advice, all the while worrying that our respective parents must not come to know of this event, for fear that we may not be allowed to hang out together in future - PJ Party types all alone. Going to watch a horror movie together with 4 other friends at Sterling, all the while laughing at the frightful sequences, since the whole theater would scream 30 seconds before the frightful sequence, predicting the horror in a way. Unending shopping experiences at Linking Road, while in college, allowing our very own bargain experts to clinch us the best deals (M and M I miss you guys so much)! Valentine's Day as a class at Bandstand, only to be shooed by the owners for being boisterous on a day meant to be quiet and mushy. Rainy days where the eyes would search out in anticipation, wondering whether the roads and railroads would be sufficiently flooded to allow us a day of merry making at school. 4 of us on a katta at Worli Sea Face, Pepsi in hand, toasting my moment. A 2 feet tall bouquet that arrived at my new workplace, sent by my gang at my old workplace. 2 dear friends who faced nothing less than an ordeal to reach VT on the day I left Mumbai, just for those 2 minutes of wishing me goodbye, even though each of them had to undertake 2 hours of traveling to and fro, just to execute this gesture.

Given that I got writable access to the Internet just today, I found no better means of kick starting my writing journey outside Mumbai, than to mention all that I left behind, part II.

All that you leave behind - I

Ever wondered how one gets reflective at the threshold of moving from one point in life to another? Ever wondered how a sense of belonging tugs at you as you try to say goodbye to a place you love? Ever wondered why a terrible cocktail of gloom, nostalgia and reflection always hits you when you need to take on a change? The change, or rather the gross dislike of it makes me reflective. Reflective about all that I leave behind. No, I am not stealing the name of U2's album. But just this feeling that grips me each time I need to make a move, no matter how long the sojourn compelled me to channelize the ill-tasting cocktail of feelings into a post here! So beginning now, till I manage to get over this change-sickness, the hues over the lilac avenue are bound to be randomly rambling, swinging between vibrantly bright to nostalgic mellow.

There is so much that we as Indians, and further perhaps as Mumbaikars take for granted. And all that we take for granted eventually lines memory lane in the form of all that we do indeed leave behind. For instance,

The sun! Yes, I know people would curse me given the boiling hot temperatures these days in Mumbai. But ask a tropic-bred person to go live near the poles. The first thing they talk about is the lack of sunshine, the depression that hits them when the sun sets at 4 PM. And while here, evening is 7 PM, and the sun is just a part of life.

The mild humid climate intrinsic to Mumbai. Ask anyone living in interior AP, and she'll tell you horror stories of scalding dry heat, sunscreens of SPF 40, darkened skin, parched throats, and so on. But in Mumbai, live every day of the year in the same manner. Thanks to the sea, that sufficiently tempers down severe heat attacks. Well, if we as citizens of the world community do not do much for the environment, the sharply deteriorating climate is bound to kill us all, for global warming is indeed a reality. But then again, that is beside the point here. Perhaps at the rate at which we seem to be plundering the environment, the mild and lovely climate of Mumbai might also be something we'd leave behind!

The sea. Ah! The calming effect it has on harried nerves. The immense presence alone makes one relax, at least that is the effect the sea has on me. But till we have a sea shore in the city, we never bother going to the beach. Too dirty, too messy, too many people, garbage in the water, whatever! But going further, there comes a time in life where one yearns just for the sound of the dirty mucky water lashing against the wave breakers off the sea front!

So much for the ecological aspect of this city, but there is so much more I'd leave behind, that those ramblings are to be staggered over the coming few 'pangs of separation' filled days...

Cheers to optimism

Ok, almost the whole world would be talking about the Academy awards. Almost every Indian would be going gaga over the great Indian success story. Almost every person even remotely associated with the movie / India / Mumbai, would have an opinion. Granted. Then why am I writing about the same phenomenon? Well, I wrote before on the Slumdog Phenomenon, as I'd like to call it, and I write again, since I feel very happy with the results, more so, because this whole event is an example of the power of hope.

The Slumdog victory is no tiny achievement. 80% strike rate! As though working on a checklist -
X Best Picture
X Best Director – Danny Boyle
X Best Original Score – A. R. Rahman
X Best Original Song – "Jai Ho", by A. R. Rahman (music) & Gulzar (lyrics)
X Best Adapted Screenplay – Simon Beaufoy
X Best Cinematography – Anthony Dod Mantle
X Best Film Editing – Chris Dickens
X Best Sound Mixing – Resul Pookutty, Richard Pryke, Ian Tapp
OOPS! Best Sound Editing – Tom Sayers
OOPS! Best Original Song – "O... Saya", by A. R. Rahman & M.I.A. (lyrics) (cos the other song took its place!!!)

But why is the whole world talking about the Oscars? Well, it is a dream for everyone who is even remotely related to the entertainment industry to be feted at the Oscars. Kate Winslet very cutely described this alluding to her shampoo bottle that she imagined to be an Oscar all through her childhood. A R Rahman called it a dream come true, speaking of the power of love that brought him to the Kodak theater. Why? Because the Academy and the judges are all accomplished in their own right. There's a saying in Tamil that goes as 'Vasishtar Vaayaal Brahma Rishi' which means, that being feted by the pinnacle of the field is the best compliment one can get. So when the best in the art anoint you to have given the best performance of the year, it is something to feel very very proud about.

So while everyone is talking about how Slumdog swept the Oscars, and almost everyone says that India has finally found global recognition blah blah blah, here's my POV.

First, so many 'Indians' detracted the movie saying that it was a portrayal of the filth called India, about how everyone outside our country took morbid pleasure portraying an India of nightmarish proportions! Many so called 'patriots' even went on to say that one must boycott the movie, since it portrays India in poor light. Back then in my post on My take on the Slumdog Phenomenon, I had spoken about this view held by people, and how totally parochial the view was. And now, as some people who believe that creativity is border-less and knows no language or religion got together and made a movie about the power of hope and optimism, almost everyone wants a piece of that victory pie!

When the nominations were out, I rather strongly believed that Slumdog might not make the cut. My main point of contention was that Slumdog, as a movie is much too 'happy' to win an Oscar. Take the year 2005 for instance - Million Dollar Baby. Clint Eastwood is a great guy who makes great movies. But the movie left you feeling so sad! Gladiator - saaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaad. Lord of the Rings - Return of the King - Confused!!! The Departed - Shaken. Slumdog Millionaire - Smiling, happy! Doesn't seem to fit, right? And then I thought - maybe since the times are so dire with the words recession, unemployment, losses, meltdown doing the rounds in all discussions, maybe at least somewhere the feeling should be good and happy, perhaps even in a movie theater for those 3 hours. Maybe?

The movie, according to me is a tribute to the spirit of Mumbai. I know it sounds cliched, but look at some aspects. This city gives you the Bindaas attitude. A life of having to fight the traffic, the crowds and the commute distances sort of gives us Mumbaikars the 'Kya Farak Padta Hai' nature that teaches you to fight all odds to survive. Mumbai teaches you to be street smart and the way the 'Slumdog' even gets a job in a call center, shows the never-say-die spirit that eventually allows almost all Mumbaikars to survive, and the hard working, fortunate ones to even make it big! This city gives people the will to fight to reach a goal. Like how Jamal has the strong wish to find Latika, and the reason why he participates in WWTBAM was because she sees the show. And at the end, the movie leaves you with a tangy happy happy feeling - much like how a hard core Mumbaikar eventually feels about his city - No matter how much one might crib about this city, when the time comes to pit Mumbai against another city, a Mumbaikar is ferociously in love with Maximum city - the taste of the city can never turn bitter for a Mumbaikar.

Some may argue that the city has nothing to do with these attitudes. I say, what is a city without the component people???

For me, this movie symbolizes Mumbai and the spirit of hope and optimism. Hoping to meet the love of one's life, hoping to survive, hoping to make something of one's life. And so, I guess the best way to sign off from this rather long post would be to quote another one of my favorite movies, multiple Oscar winner again - The Shawshank Redemption. "Hope is a good thing, maybe one of the best things, and a good thing never dies." Jai Ho!

Mumbai - Paradise lost....

Once upon a time I had written about how everything is always personal. I am a very strong Mumbaiphile, in that I like and love anything and everything about my city. So, when one of my friends remarked that Mumbai no longer is what it was, I denied it, vociferously! But of late, looking at what I read in the papers, and what I see happening around me, I begin to wonder where has my city gone? Or rather what has happened to it?

One, I used to once boast about how safe my city is for women. How unlike Delhi or for that matter NY. I used to speak about how comfortable it was for me, as a Mumbaikar to step out late at night and be comfortable and assured that I am at no risk. But now, everyday, I read about cases of rape in the newspapers. At places not typically associated with crime. There was once a time, when morals were intact with the poorer sections of society. A time, when people said, "It's safer to go walking around Bombay's mill district as compared to the posh parts of South Mumbai." But now, it seems that that axiom has been turned on its head! Either that, or perhaps our newspapers have found a new 'rape correspondent' to write for the highly tabloidized newspapers.

I was driving the other day, at a steady pace, when out of nowhere this guy loomed over my rear-view mirror first to the right and then to the left and finally sped at almost 300 miles an hour on a narrow one lane street. But before I could regain my composure, and veer my car to avoid hitting a tree, this guy screech braked in front of me. As if that was not enough, on the main road that forms the spine of Mumbai, taxis and two-wheelers swarm around. Driving on such roads, feels like the chase sequence of Minority Report! While driving, you need to be Cyclops and look on all sides at once, since you never know where a vehicle can come from. Sense of discipline is absolutely missing. And the worst part is, if you try to express your displeasure through signs, no one will stop a minute to think about their fault. They would instead not mind jumping out of their car and screaming expletives at you, irrespective of who you are, or what your point is. Standard dialogues include - upon being scratched by a cabbie ' If you so love your car, that you don't want a scratch on it, who asked you to take the car out?' I wonder whether such an attitude springs from the fact that the offenders generally do not own the car and hence do not care what happens to it. Employed drivers, cabbies, think about it. If this were indeed the case, then God bless Mumbai, with the Tata Nano booking commencing soon. Drive a kilometer on the perennially dug up backbone roads of Bombay, and I can guarantee the fact that you'll return with a headache. Road rage here is not the brash driving one associates with uber rich spoilt kids. Road rage in Mumbai is the continuous honking at traffic signals, the simmering anger amongst members of the driving community. And why can't people be angry? Look at the gross lack of overtaking etiquette and the massive lane indiscipline.

There was an article in the paper today of a kid who brought a lac of rupees in currency notes to school (stolen from home) and flaunted it to his classmates. If this is indeed true, can someone check the tax history of the offender kid's parents? And if this story is true, WHATEVER IS HAPPENING TO KIDS IN MY CITY? Granted, we are still far away from the University shootings seen in the US. But this is certainly not the kind of kidlife we had as kids, not so long ago.

People are up in arms against Slumdog, since it portrays poverty and slum life in Mumbai. They want all of Mumbai to be seen by the world. Hell, even I vociferously demanded a 360 degree view of Mumbai, since I wanted the world to see the Mumbai I lived in, the city I loved. But as the days go by, when seen from within, I have to quote Milton - Paradise Lost indeed.....

Why Mumbai is rude on the roads - an after thought

Yesterday I wrote about an old survey that proclaimed Mumbai the rudest city on earth. I wrote that I agreed with the fact pointed out by many Mumbaikars that the criteria used to judge the cities was too 'western'. A couple of people commented that amongst other cities, Mumbai is a lot more 'sophisticated'. Agreed again. But that said, I ask, of what use is it to compare oneself with those worse off than you? Why not look ahead and try to improve?

Now comes the deal. I thought, where does such a huge difference in road culture come from? Rather why? Is it something in or culture? I guess not, since the first human civilization was Indian - the Harappan civilization. And I guess the lack of civility and politeness is what we're talking about. And then this happened. The other day, a coffee in hand, I got into a friend's car. Talking as usual, we kept driving. At a light, she looked in my direction, and I saw her face turn scarlet. Well, not really red as a beetroot thing, but she asked me to 'please belt up'. Expecting a display of some F1 racing driving skills, I played the joke, saying, "You can't drive that fast!!" At which she said, " Well, if I get caught or seen by the police with an un-belted passenger, my points increase, which means, my insurance premium will be raised. Here I am fighting to retain my job with a mortgage to pay down, the last thing I need is a heightened premium because of an un-belted Indian tourist!"

Oops! I sheepishly belted up and looked straight ahead. (She promised to get me a short mild tomorrow to atone for the loss in temper. Yay!!) But then, since we're on the topic of driving and culture on roads, I thought that maybe people are unruly on roads, since no one will subject the errant drivers to punitive action. An uncle of mine greatly disapproved of my driver's license. He said, "You may be a sterling driver, but on Indian roads, you have a bunch of baboons with blinkers behind the wheel. It's they I am afraid of, not your driving acumen. Perhaps we need to introduce a 'No driving without insurance' law as well, by which our traffic could also perhaps be a lot more responsible.

Ultimately, we are all primates, and primates understand the word of the whip. Many people don't shovel snow from their front yard. The result - snow becomes ice an ice can be awfully slippery. Postmen and other delivery people fall, and sue the state, the resident, whoever. The resident enters into a painful trial, at times back-suing the state, for faulty winter gear provided to the postmen! A measure suggested by the Canadian Government - fines to be imposed if anyone leaves snow unattended.

Eco-friendly regulations. Till the time, that no regulations were in place, people never carried shopping bags to malls. It was the omnipresent plastic bag that flew off cash counter hooks. Till the time people were urged to care for the environment, their eco-friendliness was contingent on convenience. A five cent cost per bag, suddenly brought out all old shopping bags and discarded carts.

But then again, only policing may not be the panacea. Consider the skiing season in Canada this year. 8 people died in a massive avalanche attack in BC. The people and the families held police authorities and the resort authorities responsible. Later sources revealed that the tourists were skiing in 'avalanche - danger' marked areas. Could such a tragedy have been averted if the people had been a tad more responsible? Perhaps. The resort people later said, 'how much or how many can we police? People need to realize that they have families waiting at home.'

It is up to us to weigh the options, and wonder about what we want. Whether we need to lose mental peace each time we step out on the roads, expecting self-regulation, which almost always is a matter of convenience or look for very strict policing in matters that rob our peace. Understanding what we Indians are like (social mores blah blah blah), I guess the latter would only work. What say?

How rude - Mumbai in retrospect

In 2006, there was a survey conducted by Reader's digest, wherein Mumbai was voted the rudest city in the world. At that time, I was up in arms against the survey, since I am a die hard Mumbaiphile. I detest anyone who says anything bad against my city. Yes, we are a crowded city, that is bursting at its seams, our infrastructure is creaking, but we are the city of dreams, and the city where dreams come true.

Ok, I'll stop the rhetoric and get to the point. When that survey came out, I was miffed, since I have lived in Mumbai and know its essence. I know that when someone is rushing to catch the jam packed 7.23 local to CST, its either this train or no train for another half hour. Its either this train or another 'bumboo' from the mean boss. Its either this train or 'kids asleep when I get home late'. At such a time, expecting someone to help the reporter with papers, is insane! Likewise, the holding the door open funda is not a norm, mainly because one, there are hardly any public buildings, and second, the public buildings, have no doors. Our shops have rolling shutters, no doors, and the ones that do have doors are air-conditioned, and so, by typical Indian norms, aer visited by the 'genteel - Duniya Dekha' class. And finally, the shop keeper smiling funda. Just today I spoke to a friend who was in India on a vacation, and he spoke about how he chatted with a Parsi 'uncle' - actually the owner of the tea shop he'd visited. I have gone to so many shops and made purchases, and each time, my thank you was reciprocated with a smile or a nod or a kind word. Then again, I have been to shops in the 'more polite' countries, where since the clerk has apparently had a bad day, my rather large purchase doesn't get even a small hint of a smile.

Now why am I writing about a survey that came out two and a half years ago? Scores of Mumbaikars gave their 2 penny worth soon after the event. But like they say, if you truly like something, be the first to point out faults. So, on the face, I agree with the general population that the criteria selected for judging politeness was flawed, since it failed to consider Desi/ Eastern behavior and societal mores. That assumed, here is my take. Mumbai is rude on roads. Congestion, perennial construction, pollution, crowds, whatever the reason may be, the rudeness is present.

A few things I really found sweet about other countries is the amount of 'bhaav' given to pedestrians. Like in Japan, on main roads, people halt, to give way. Pedestrians seldom ever break a signal, but in spite of that, the politeness is present. In a place like Canada, in winter, a pedestrian is of paramount importance. Motorists wave you ahead, if you stand on a sidewalk waiting to cross. If I am hunting for place to park in a mall parking lot, someone who is leaving, waves to me and says - 'I am leaving hold on'. Two cars on the road, if one is faster, the slower one dips the lights to say 'move on - I won't cut'. And once the move is done, the faster car driver looks up into the mirror and gives a subtle nod. Oh and if you honk, it is assumed that you are in distress, much like the 'Bachao' of Hindi film heroines.

Take Mumbai. If you don't honk, your horn is broken. I may be at the traffic light, which just turned green a second ago. I hear a series of painful honks behind me. Hello!!! I don't drive an F1 car, I don't have launch control. Besides, people fail to understand, that a traffic light in Mumbai is the last place one would want to fall asleep in! Parking ethics - how do you spell that? I will park at 90 degrees to the road, because someone in my car needs to get down, and he/she will not walk two steps. The person will get down at the gate! - Red carpet celebrity to a temple indeed!!! Lane cutting - you can never enjoy a drive in peace. Taxi drivers will swoop in from anywhere and everywhere. For them, all road's a lane, and they epitomise the ultimate level of concentration. They only look straight ahead, and don't care who's at the side. They can never drive in one line. One day, when the traffic lights conk off, there's chaos. Elsewhere, a free left or right turn is commonplace. If I am cutting into opposite direction traffic to take a left, the drivers and the incoming traffic are disciplined and cautious enough. In Mumbai, even turns with signals meet with a blaring horn from some errant party or the other.

Exasperating indeed! I generally prefer to drive with earphones on, so that its Yanni and not some pig snorting horn in my ears while I drive. I once mentioned it to my Delhi friend who is now in the US and she said, "You are such a cribber. Mumbai has the most disciplined traffic in India, and yet you complain" Ahem... I guess... I complained for new shoes until I saw a man with no feet......

Oh and here is the article on the Reader's Digest survey.

It always is personal

They say that the full effect of any event hits you only when the event is personal. Yes, the Mumbai attacks are testimony to the same. Scores of people die each year in separate acts of terror. Yet when Mumbai was hit, that too the affluent, the moneyed, suddenly the country got up and took notice. Heads rolled, people were sacked, new 'leaders' were appointed. People took notice when the premier industrialist of India expressed disappointment over the system. The NIA was commissioned, and a new anti-terror law was tabled and in a rare display of unity it was unanimously passed by the house. It is always personal.

Last weekend there was a first aid course conducted for all of us at work. They taught us basic CPR, how to attend to an accident victim and so on. One comment the doctor made, had a lasting impact on me - 'The aim of first aid knowledge is to show you, how you can help save someone, and if not, at least to show you how you may not cause more harm to someone'. I have learnt about the life of a paraplegic air force captain in one of my class 10 English lessons. I learnt about how he had been in an accident and how he was moved without adequate neck support and how he was rendered paraplegic for the rest of his life. That story made me very sad. When the doctor described rescue efforts, I thought of the many injured who were moved out of these terror attack sites. Rescue operations have a certain mission, and remembering the fine points of safety and 'moving a victim basics' is difficult.

That is where passers by can help. If they only knew first aid. Just a thought - why not make first aid training compulsory in all schools in class 8 and 9? Every school has MCC, scouts, guides and what not. Some schools do include some first aid related inputs as well. But if every educated citizen can help at a time of crisis, imagine how efficient we can be?

And this idea struck me because I recently lost an aunt to a heart attack. She could have been saved, if only someone around knew CPR. It always is.... personal........