Daily Fare

The Mumbai taxi drivers remind me of Ben Gunn from Treasure Island. Marooned in this island city of Mumbai with no way out for a long time, they lead a very different life from the hyped ones you see in the movies and travel shows. Their lives shuttle between cramped living places and abuses of their passengers. Most of them certainly don’t have any million dollar dreams. They are just so busy to get by that upon asking them about their future they just, look away.

There being a ban on auto rickshaws in South Mumbai, I have to end up taking a cab to and fro to the railway station every day. Unlike most taxis in other cities I have been to, these guys near my place hardly refuse to go to any place no matter how close by I was going, which I am sure will shock a whole lot of people. They tell me, most of them earn anywhere between a few hundreds to around one and a half grand depending upon the timing of their shift and end up paying a daily rent of minimum Rs 500 to the owner of the taxi. They are often harassed by the cops as many of the taxis run on fake permit. Anyways, showing a little interest in their story always make them start blabbering about their lives and wisdoms they learn from the Mumbai traffic.

Most of them come from places like U.P. and Bihar and claim to be from respectable families and higher castes. Once I asked them why doesn’t he drive a taxi in a city closer to his village and he says, “In a city like Delhi or Kanpur I might be recognized by a relative. That will be embarrassing.” I quipped out a cliché, “But there is nothing embarrassing about any work” and he replies, “It will not be embarrassing for me but, my parent won’t be able to show their faces in the society.” That shut me up! Few of them are yet to get over their pride over their “superior caste.” A driver once told me, “back in my village we wouldn’t have allowed these people in our house and now I drive them to places. Remember, I don’t salute them, I just salute their money.” I guess that’s just his frustration speaking. Some talk about the sad treatment they get from other passengers. Some enjoy talking about the state of the cricket and keep on asking scores of any ongoing match. Some show optimism in the improvement in their villages and hope to go back as soon as thinks get better. While others tell stories about how they charge their mobiles using a generator as they yet to get electricity in their villages.

Most of them seem to be nice people. If they cheat you they will do it politely which, for me, after my experiences in Kolkata and Bangalore is perfectly fine. It’s amazing to see their capacity to struggle it out just to survive while we splurge our cash on daily rides in their taxis.

Life on a Mumbai Local

Mumbai local trains can make a man out of you!!! Not that you will lose your precious cherry. That will be awkward, messy and invite the ridicule of many. It will make you a man by getting you a black eye and a few battle scars on your face. It gives you lessons on aggression, discipline, basic recklessness, advanced foul language, impeccable punctuality and an unhealthy disregard of stench.

This is how the story of my first ride on a Mumbai train goes. Two of my friends and me hop on a train first class. We had bought tickets which are worth 9 bucks each thinking those were first class tickets (FYI, First class tickets are worth 40 bucks each). As our luck would go, the ticket checker also got on the train and we were his first meal of the day. On our first ever ride we ended up paying a thousand bucks as fine.

After I got myself transferred to Mumbai I got the true experience of a Mumbai train. I generally take a train from Vikroli station to Dadar where I take another train to reach my destination. So one day I end up taking a train whose last stop was Dadar itself. When we were about to approach the station I head towards the exit and stand by it acting like a ‘true Mumbaikar’. I didn’t even bother to notice that the other people had suddenly huddled near the other end. I also didn’t bother to notice that the platform was unusually crowded with people waiting to dash into the train. What happened next will be easier for you to visualize if you have seen this common scene from every zombie movies possible. Here it is,

There are innumerable zombies (People getting on the train) trying to barge through a narrow door to grab the hero (me) and the exhausted and disgusted hero (still me) is trying get out of their clutches. While the heroine (other fellow passengers waiting to get down) just smile at the hero’s foolishness.

Trust me, it is that way. Not that I couldn’t have avoided it like other passengers of the train who safely huddled in the other end, made their way out after the carnage has subsided. But then it is a part of the learning process.

It is definitely a funny sight when you see these people getting on a train. Of course you have to be anywhere but not on the train to enjoy the sight. Sometimes it gets so crowded that while a man is somehow standing by the door holding a pole, another man will stand behind him holding his waist with toes barely on the door’s edge. After sometime hanging by the door becomes such a habit that even if the train is empty with places to sit all around the only man on the train will stand by the door.

Now days, even I get off from a moving train just before the mob barges in. It does save me a whole lot of time and I also have an actual first class ticket now.

Yet Another Vacation

My vacations in Mumbai are full of comfort generally afforded only by the hip-hop junkies. Sorry, dear critics I cant be my usual humble self here. Something to do with the city air I guess. My mornings usually start at noon when my mom asks (sarcastically) “Son, Do you want breakfast or lunch?” Days are generally spent surfing web or reading a book in my balcony over looking the sea until the next meal magically arrives. Never realized Wi-Fi could be such an amazing tool to use at home too. Evenings are spent mindlessly roaming around a nearby park or gorging on vada pavs at some road side stalls, while dinners go by arguing with Dad regarding which channel to watch over a glass of wine.

This is what a perfect vacation could be like, something which will put life to a complete halt but just a while. You don’t have to introspect or do as some people say “find yourself”. It could be about sitting and doing things just because you like doing them. Something which is completely useless and crass like sitting in the park and waiting for two excessively chatting fat ladies trip over a tree’s exposed roots. Well that’s just an example. You can find something which suits your taste, but you do get the point, right?

I certainly don’t argue with the belief that faster the life, the more you get to see of it, but heck if you don’t stop once in a while who’s going to pick up the bits that were dropped behind. After all its these bits which add the glitter in the otherwise grey and competitive life.

Back in the city..

It’s been a month since I came back from a two weeks break from Mumbai. Yet the urge of moving back which generally lasts till I board the flight still remains.

Of the few cities I have lived in this is the only city with a sense of humor which can get quite audacious sometimes. A friend of mine goes to a restaurant and orders a take-away. The shop guy says it will take 10 mins. After 15 mins the friend enquires about the order to which the shopkeeper replies, “Sir!! I said 10 mins just for the sake of giving you a answer. I didn’t actually mean it. Please have a little patience. Your parcel will arrive any time.” What do you reply to that?

Here’s another incident I encountered in my last month’s visit. I was busy snapping pictures at a train station when a train on the opposite track came to a halt. It was quite crowded with people hanging by the doors. Suddenly the folks by the door realized I was taking pictures of the train and screamed at me to take their pictures too. That was the first time I saw an entire compartment of people posing for a picture.

The point is that the city seems to be alive as it never ceases to surprise me. There is a careless sense of grandeur in its people. It’s like everyone is saying “Seth! Been there done that, now please come to the point and go on with your life.” It’s the sort of attitude every outsider resents but wish to possess.

Yet Again...

Why do I always get an urge to write about this city whenever I am here?

I have no friends here nor have I stayed here long enough for the nostalgia to hit me hard enough. Yet I am always the "little wide eyed boy" when I arrive here and the "Lonely old man" when I depart.  Maybe I long for the sheer determination of the city to have a good time no matter how grand and impractical it is. I mean in which other city can one do the following things in a single weekend:

• Go to a live gig in a happening pub.
• Watch a Anupam Kher play.
• Watch people show off their Ferraris, Lambos, Porshes in Kala Ghoda.

Its not even these extravagances which excites me. Its the fact that these  things are just a part of every other day which really amazes me. There is no concept of "moderation" here. Everything has to reach its limits and beyond. Have a close look at any passer-by's face. You will find a tinge of arrogance. As if being able to live here certifies that they have the audacity to be the first one to break all norms and then show the entire country how it's done. 

This place doesn't make me realize what I already have. It reminds me of everything I need to achieve somewhere in the future.

If you haven't realized which city I am talking about, then maybe it's time you need to explore a bit...

Colors I Drift By…

Thousand of colors,
Millions of shades,
Swirl around the sky
Like a dragon’s breath.
The clouds slowly drift by
With an air of snob,
And the sun heads for
Another world across the sea.
I sit by my window alone
And enjoy the dusk,
Who knows it might probably be,
My last sunset in this city.

Still Mumbai...

Yesterday when my flight landed in Mumbai, I gave out a sigh of relief. The city hasn't changed at all. The temperature outside was still a stinking 28 deg, it still takes about a half hour to get baggage, mom's first comments are still on on my 'Sick' looks and dad is still just happy to see me.
It simply doesn't feel like I have been away from this place all these while.

After staying here for a day I realized more :

• The sea breeze from my balcony still feels nice.
• The music in "Not Just Jazz by the bay" is still great.
• Evening walks in Priyadarshini park are still exhilarating.
• The sunset at Marine Drive is still heat warming.
• The women are as pretty as ever.
• and the men...... ummmhhh........ never mind.. they are still busy killing each other.

The thing is, I had got familiar with the city during my one year stay. It kind of seeped into my heart which even Kolkata couldn't do. It was here I spent one frustrating year of my life and it did it's best to make sure I am not sad all the time. Before leaving for the city from Bangalore I had a small apprehension that it might have some what changed like all long lost friends do. But when I came here and found it just the way I left it, I was relieved that it didn't change itself , at least not yet. It still has the amazing energy the whole world talks about.

Anyways lots of cheesy stuff has been written. But still if I ever meet the spirit of Mumbai I will definitely buy him a beer for doing such a magnificent job for the city.

BOMbai

What does one get if he puts people as rich as the rich of Europe with people as poor as people of Africa on a piece of land? Well .....you get the city of Mumbai. Its a city with these two kinds of people coexisting in harmony but simultaneously keeping a thin line between them. Although most cities have a certain "class" division between the poor and rich but in Mumbai it is most evident. It's like mixing two different colored liquids,but ending up getting some wild swirls with each liquid having a distinct boundary. There is a general assumption that the name "city that fulfills every dream" only applies for the rich who lead their flashy life with their Porsches and million dollar homes, while the poor have to fight for a square foot of space on the over crowded trains. But after experiencing Mumbai for the last few months, I find it hard to agree with them. If it was so, then why do these people come from far away states and work here if there was no future for them. I believe it is their dream that lures the poor laborers and drivers from different parts of the country to this city. What differs them from the rich is their dream. A poor dreams of earning money to send back to their families in their village, and saving up enough cash to shift his entire his family to the city someday. While the rich dream of bringing higher standards to their already comfortable life and thus taking the city to higher level of affluence. The city is called a city of dreams because of the opportunities its presents to every man to fulfill his dream with their hard work. Here again these two classes cater to each other's needs everyday, everywhere and cant survive a single day without them. But as soon as night falls they return to their own haven,none daring to trespass into the other's world. In the end of the day both these classes of people are equally happy for their respective dreams being fulfilled to some extent each day and equally sad for their disappointments.

Finally, I would say that every dream is fulfilled in this magical city.All one has to do is choose the right one ....