No city is like Mumbai and no people like
the Mumbaikar! What makes this city so different? You will perhaps never know if
you have lived all your life here. But, you just cannot miss the point if you
are an outsider.
You discover the City a little every day. As
you begin to come to terms with the new life, it unfolds before you with all
its glory and gore! It is like life itself - endearing and enchanting this
minute, painful and weary the very next. And like life again it is always on
the move. Every turn throws before you a new challenge, and every dawn a new
opportunity!
As the days pass Mumbai permeates your
body, it enters in to your soul. This is an intricate - intimate relationship
from which there is no escape and severing of which will give you almost
physical pain. Any wonder that all those who come to Mumbai become a part of it
and hardly ever leave. When I landed here about seven years ago, I never
thought it was going to be like a second birth! Thrust in to the gigantic
cauldron of humanity each day has been a unique experience of life.
Local trains - life line of the city - the
mad mad rush - the scramble to get in and the struggle to get out. Men packed
like sardines in the compartments and yet at the very next station a few more will
squeeze in! They hang precariously to the doors. Their hands locked in handcuff
like grips above their heads. Singing and swinging together they travel every
day to work, as if they were children taking joy ride on a toy train! At CST you
can watch them getting off the train and making a beeline for their offices -
like rows of ants moving in search of food and shelter. Mumbai locals are the
first training grounds for the life in Mumbai. If you haven’t travelled in the
local trains you haven’t seen Mumbai! And if you can board a Virar Fast at Andheri
you must be a Mumbai veteran!
Travelling in the Mumbai locals made me
learn the English language all over again. The electronic time table on the
platform was my new book of alphabets. ‘A’ stood for Andheri, ‘B’ for Bandra,
‘C’ was Churchgate and ‘D’ meant Dadar! If
you are a good observer you can learn many other things. Where a person stands
inside the train compartment clearly indicated how far he is going to travel.
If he is standing deep inside then definitely he is travelling till the end of
the route. If he is positioned near the door then he should be going only a
short distance. The principle is simple. You should not stand in the way of
those who need to disembark before you. Had Newton lived in Mumbai, he would have added a Fourth law of
Motion to his existing three, and it would read something as follows:
“At any point of time the distance of a body from the door of the train
is directly proportional to the distance of its destination.”
So as you come closer to your destination
you must start moving closer to the door! And therefore it is very normal if
the person behind you wanted to know where you were travelling to and wriggled his
way ahead if his destination happened to be before yours! However, a single row
of passengers are allowed to stand on each side of the passage as long as their
backs are firmly glued to the partition wall and they don’t obstruct the
movement of those coming in or going out.
Mumbai is rather infamous for its fast
pace and busy life. Nobody has free time either for himself or for others. Even
the eunuch who peeps through the window of your car at the traffic signal asking
for money doesn’t wait if you take time to oblige! She will give you a nasty, dismissive
look and moves ahead. For the Mumbaikar his busy schedule is the aphrodisiac of
life. If he goes out of the city even for a few days he gets disoriented. Away
from Mumbai life seems to stand still. Suddenly he is left with all the time
and doesn’t know what to make of it. The breathless pace and the smell of sea in
Mumbai make a heady mixture. You get intoxicated!
Living in Mumbai has its own pitfalls and
privileges - the eternally dug up roads, the gaping manholes, the footpaths
that either do not exist or are perennially under repairs. But on the flip side
under such situations one is rarely left to lurch in the dark in Mumbai. There
will be barriers or signs of caution put up for the benefit of the unsuspecting
pedestrians or the over confident motorist. The same may not be true for other
cities in the country.
Wherever you go in Mumbai a crowd
accompanies you! Whether it is the local railway station, the movie theatre,
shopping mall or the beach, you are in a sea of humanity. But there is a method
in the madness. There is a sense of order and discipline in everything that
goes on around you. People will silently form queues to utilize any service at
a public place - even to purchase a glass of fruit juice at the road side stall!
They will patiently wait for their turn to come. It is rare to find people
relieving themselves on road side or at a secluded public place in this city. There
is more civic sense in Mumbai than anywhere else in the country.
The smell of sea has a profound
influence on the Mumbai life. Initially it seems repulsive but soon you get
used to it. It is present everywhere. It
pervades your being and your belongings. You become so used to the smell that
you start missing it elsewhere. It gives you a strange feeling of belonging. It
is the odour of life - throbbing in flesh and blood. And whenever you get
swayed in to the conniving cosmetic glitter of mundane Mumbai, the smell of sea
reminds you of the realities of life. It brings you back to your senses.
It is the end of a hectic day and you
are on your way home. You are passing through the narrow Bazar Road in Bandra. The
shops are full of colourful commodities. Men, women and children are busy making
small daily purchases. You can feel the salty corrosive soil under your feet
and the smell of the heavy humid sea air enters your nostrils. You can see the
filth and garbage strewed all around. But as you walk the lanes, the lively
banter of the fisherwomen eager to sell off their remaining stock come drifting
in to your ears. You watch mesmerized. Under the vegetable stall the old mausi
is trying to feed her dozen and odd kittens. You can’t help a smile. Nowhere
else in the world will you witness such difficult life being lived with so much
ease and elan!
