There is excessive [tag]economic disparity[/tag] in Mumbai. It is a known phenomenon but never did the reality hit me so hard than the other day.
I was traveling in the second class compartment in a crowded [tag]local train[/tag]. Every now and then, a [tag]salesman[/tag] would board the compartment and advertise his wares. These salesmen have innovative strategies to attract the bored commuters’ attention. It’s definitely an art!
A [tag]perfume[/tag] seller got in at Thane and soon the whole compartment was filled with a sweet scent. Automatically people’s curious heads turned and he captured their interest in no time. He started speaking.
महिन्याला दोन हजार कमावता, दहा रुपयाचा परफ्यूम का नाही परवडणार? राजा सारखे जगा, घामाने भिजून कामाला जाण्यात काय अर्थ आहे? हा परफ्यूम वापरा आणि बघा सगळे कसे इंप्रेस होतात ते. तुमचे साहेब केबिन मध्ये बोलवून तुमहाला प्रोमोशन देतील! गारंटी देतो, घेऊन तर बघा.(You are earning Rs. 2000 a month; why cant you afford a perfume for Rs. 10? Live like a king, whats the point in going to work smelling of sweat? Try this perfume and everyone in your office will be impressed. Your boss will call you into his cabin and give you a promotion. Just try, it works.)
He then went about offering free samples to everyone who stretched their hand. Within minutes the guy sold about 15 bottles and happily exited to the next compartment.
What left me stunned was his line ‘You are earning 2000 per month’. How can people survive on such a paltry amount? Initially it was self-denial, ‘nobody earns so low’. But dammit, there ARE people who work in my office doing odd jobs such as cleaning the tables in the cafeteria, or keeping fresh stacks of paper near the printer. These guys earn an annual [tag]income[/tag] less than my monthly [tag]salary[/tag]. And yet they are much better off than the daily wage workers, who not only toil physically all day, but also wonder at the end of the day where their next meal is going to come from.
Yes, there is lot of money in Mumbai, and if you are hardworking and educated, you share the pie. If you are not educated and lack communication skills, the pie is a distant dream. Of course, I’m making this sound as simple as two plus two four, rather than talking about the grim facts. Things are getting increasingly polarized and the economic divide is staggering.
The perfume seller spread fragrance in the train, but thinking of all these things raised a stink.
As if we didn’t hear enough of Bambaiya-angrezi (English in Mumbai flavor), the other day I heard this new phrase:
“Rick it out.”
Stumped? Let me explain. ‘Rick’ is a common urban condensed form of the word ‘Auto Rickshaw’, which by the way is the preferred and most popular mode of transport (‘taxi’) in India. In Mumbai, the super fast city especially, you may miss an appointment if you patiently speak the whole word ‘Rickshaw’. So you just say ‘Rick’ and zap to your destination. Of course the English speaking uptown crowd (whom we call ‘angrez’) might consider saying ‘Rickshaw’ a bit too Indian, hence may prefer saying ‘Rick’. Whatever is the reason!
When you call for a rick and hire it, you are ricking it out, i.e. taking an auto rickshaw on hire.
The other day:
Me: I have to go to XYZ, do you know which bus I can take?
Other person: Better rick it out rather than taking a bus
That’s all. I love the new phrase, but doubt if I’ll ever use it.
Woke up today at 5 AM and geared up by 7 AM for another ordeal – commuting from home to office – Dombivli to Kurla by suburban local train. I had to go to the railway station early, since my quarterly ticket expired yesterday and I had to renew it. The ticket window for First class travelers does not have a queue, but the second class queues stretch until eternity. Today however that queue was very short. At the same time, the platform was less crowded and when the 7:48 Titwala train arrived, everyone boarded it effortlessly!
It was only when I got inside the local train that I realized something was wrong. It just couldn’t be so comfortable on a weekday. Ah! righto! Today is optional holiday for the occasion of Muharram.
I was amused by the way all this happened. The whole system in Mumbai works with clock like precision and the sequence is so seamlessly integrated, that you reach destination wholly by reflex action. So Mumbai’ites, being in a state of perpetual race against time, are more-or-less oblivious to things happening around them.
Kurla, a suburb dominated by Muslim population wore a different look. I’m not aware if the population there comprises of Shia Muslims or Sunni Muslims. I’m not aware if Sunnis follow Muharram at all (I know Shia’s do). Hell, I’m so ill informed about this religious day, that until last year I believed that one wishes ‘Happy Muharram’ or ‘Muharram mubarak’ or something like that. No dear Priyank, it’s a day of mourning for the Muslims.
Return journey in the evening from my office at Kalina to Kurla railway station took forty-five minutes against the usual twenty minutes. On the way was a procession of mourners – who I believe were Shia’ites mourning the death of Hussain, the grandson of the Prophet Muhammad, commemorating the Battle of Karbala. It is interesting to note that I have seen on the same street a procession of Hindus on Ganeshotsav, Jains on Mahavir Jayanti, Neo Buddhists on Buddha Pournima and Sikhs on the Guru Nanak Jayanti. (And every time, I reached the railway station late!).
There are many more “odd” things visible in Kurla. The holy cross church and missionary school running in an area barely populated Christians. A saffron flag or banner suspended from the window of an Islamic madarssa run on first floor of a crooked building with a Shankar Vilas Hindu Hotel – which is no more than a tiny tea stall – on the ground floor. A number of tiny little ‘durga cosmetics’ or ‘pragati stores’ managed by a bearded man with a white cap. There is even a पुणेरी पाटी (placards with slogans written in a style particular to Pune) saying ‘काम नसल्यास दुकानासमोर उभे राहू नये..’ (Don’t stand in front of our shop if you not dealing with us).
I don’t know how all this works in our country. But it does make me feel proud of our social system.
Came across these links while browsing: Mumbai Cyber Lab (MCL) is a joint initiative between the Mumbai Police and NASSCOM. The Cyber Crime Investigation Cell is established by Crime Branch of Criminal Investigation Department (Mumbai). The functions of these websites include reporting cyber crimes and assisting the victims, raising general awareness about cyber crimes and collaborating with national / international security agencies so that the common user has safe internet experience.
Cyber Crime is a crime that is committed over the internet. This is what MCL says about cyber crimes and the magnitude of the menace.
It is not a surprise that Cyber Crimes like money cyber stalking, denial of service, e-mail abuse, chat abuse and other crimes are on the rise. Cyber Terrorist and cyber mafia are emerging with great force, whose activities are going to threaten the sovereignty of nations and world order.
The websites give general information for users of all categories, and describes in brief the types of cyber crimes such as hacking, child pornography, cyber stalking, software piracy, virus dissemination, Denial of Service (DOS) attacks, net extorsion, Phishing, online frauds etc. There is also a section dedicated to Indian IT Laws.
Overall excellent websites and an essential bookmarks. Such initiatives by Mumbai Police department are definitely commendable.
Mumbai is a cement jungle. Never is this fact more evident to you than the time of the festive season – Diwali. Diwali is the Hindu festival of Lights and is celebrated to mark the victory of light over darkness. Fireworks are essential part of this celebration.
Uncopyrighted photos taken from internet, not clicked by me.
Sound Energy ↔ Light Energy
If the news media are to be believed, the cosmopolitan consumer is getting increasingly savvy about environmental damages inflicted by the smoke and noise from these crackers. The manufacturing pattern has seen a marginal shift from noisy crackers to the colorful and bright varieties. However, this change is hardly useful since these fancy fireworks are steeply priced and are therefore beyond the capacity of almost all of the users.
“Louder the better”, on the other hand, appears to be the mantra. The sound generated by the bursting crackers seems to be increasing year after year. There could be another factor. The sound of the exploding firecracker reverberates in the densely populated neighborhood for long duration rather than dissipating away quickly. This causes minor but frequent local vibrations in the structures, something which they might not be designed for. Logically this is bound to weaken the buildings. The coordination committee of our residential apartment passed a resolution banning exploding the firecrackers on terrace or from open galleries of apartments. Such measures will ensure that the noisy crackers are burst only in open areas.
I need not rattle about the harmful effects of the acutely toxic fumes produced by some varieties of firecrackers and the long retention time of the plumes of smoke emerging from them.
However the sound and air pollution apart, the most tormenting experience is bursting of these firecrackers at odd timings – waking up at 2 am or 2 pm (or whatever) by the deafening sound of a firecracker demonstrated the uncivilized attitude of the public.
Perhaps the people would realize this by themselves. I’m not sure if the bright lights could eradicate the dark forces, but the rowdy crackers would surely scare away the tranquil spirits.
Once upon a time, the pavements on the road from Flora Fountain to Churchgate station were lined up with a number of booksellers, treasuring thousands of books. The courts ordered their eviction some four months back, a thing I plainly dismissed as ‘unpractical’ and ‘unjust’. They couldn’t be doing this to Mumbai, and it would be a matter of days until they came back, I felt. My visit to that place last week told me how wrong I was.
I graduated reading Mass Transfer Operations by Treybal and Reaction Engineering by Levenspiel, and almost all of my Engineering knowledge came from books purchased from this street. I would get my supply of Robert Ludlums and Jeffrey Archers for the holidays, or simply spend time browsing through the books (and glance at the Playboys!) on my ocassional visits to teh uptown.
This street was the unofficial ‘book street’ of Mumbai, something everyone was proud of. ‘Yeh book kahan milega?‘, ‘Fountain’, came the default reply. Stocked with books ranging from almost all subjects known to mankind, these booksellers, most of them barely literate, were smart archivers.
Alas, this book street has been ripped out mercilessly from the heart of the metropolis.
Related reading: Dance bars, yes. Books, no!, What did the books do to you?
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