Unhappy New Year

On the 31st evening I nearly scolded my friend X for what I thought was an overdose of concern and protectiveness towards his girl friend. Two days later I am most distressed to note that I’m ready to eat my words.
He had got a last minute call from this girl he adores, and he had to make plans for the evening. So there we were discussing at 6 on the evening of the 31st what his options were. One of these, which both of us thought was an excellent idea, was to go across to Pune, a lovely city and a favourite with many of my friends. Only he felt it was too late already, and if they tried doing that they might well end up spending midnight crossover to the new year in the bus on the highway. So I suggested that to be faster he should take a cool cab instead. His immediate reaction was ‘no way, they are too unsafe for a woman’. I pointed out to him that he would be with her, but he was adamant that it was not safe, and that in the event of any untoward incident on the way, there was little he alone would be able to do to help. I was a little miffed at this restriction that all of us have had to impose on ourselves at some point in our lives. Having grown up in Delhi, I have done that more times than I care to recall, or yet I have never grown used to it. This curb on my freedom inspires an unnaturally strong opposition in me and mixed feelings of anger, helplessness and frustration. This was what I felt yet again as I was having this conversation with X. I mean, this was Mumbai, this city is different.
Apparently not.
The cover story in today’s HT is how a mob ushered in 2008, for themselves and for a couple of young women, for whom the first two hours of 2008 will be unforgettable forever.
It was mobocracy once again.
My apologies to X, he was right. I’m sure he would never want his girl to be caught in a situation like that, and one can hardly blame him for finding the sacrifice of giving up on a romantic trip to Pune preferable to taking the risk.

An aside: If there’s anything to rival my feelings from the conversation a couple of days ago, it was what I felt looking at the pictures in the paper this morning.
Over the years I have realized that while anger and frustration are bad enough, its helplessness which kills me. What can one do except feel indignant at reading reports such as these. There has to be something, I haven’t yet figured out what.

saddi Dilli, amchi Mumbai

I have often found myself at the centre of a Delhi versus Mumbai argument, given that I was born and brought up in the former, and have now made the latter my home. Let me state at the outset that I love both. Both cities have their strengths and weaknesses, and it’s unfair to compare two entities so different in nature.

Delhi has been synonymous with home forever. We shifted to Delhi in 1982, if memory serves me correctly, and my family still stays there. I have seen the city grow exponentially, both vertically and horizontally, with buildings in the city growing taller by the day, and boundaries of the city expanding with every new master plan. Delhi is no longer a city but a recognized State, with its own legislature and government. And there is an entity called the National Capital Region (NCR), which includes the neighboring satellite towns of Faridabad and Gurgaon in Haryana, and NOIDA and Ghaziabad in Uttar Pradesh.
Mumbai, growing equally exponentially (I’m sure there’s data to say which is growing faster, but that isn’t of as much concern to me) seems on the other hand, to be favouring the vertical route. With land in short supply, and the disadvantage of being a coastal city, so that it cannot possibly expand much in the direction of the sea (although God knows they keep trying by reclaiming more and more land,) it has turned to the sky to accommodate it’s ever increasing population, and its growing demands. It is the capital of Maharashtra and the seat of its State government.
But these things don’t interest me. I am more of a people person. And therefore to me, the most defining characteristic of any city is its people and their environment. And the people of Delhi are a mixed lot. It’s truly a cosmopolitan city and that reflects in its demography. So even though the majority of the people are North Indian, one finds in this city people from all parts of the country, speaking their different languages and bringing with them their unique cultures.
A large proportion of the original inhabitants of Mumbai were and continue to be, Marathi and Gujarati speaking i.e. belonging to the states of Maharashtra and Gujarat. And much like Delhi, many peoples from many parts of the country have settled here.
In spite of this similarity, I find the people of Mumbai a lot friendlier and warm hearted than Delhi. The common man on the street is a lot more pleasant and approachable, as also honest and helpful. The women though are something else altogether. The women of both cities are mostly similar in characteristics, as can be expected, but somehow Mumbai women are a lot more aggressive.
The two cities work at different paces. Mumbai makes Delhi seem laid back in comparison. Neither seems to sleep, whatever the hour of the day, but Mumbai scores over Delhi as regards nightlife. Most significantly, at least for me, Mumbai offers to its women, the chance to have a nightlife even unescorted.
Also the women in Mumbai are able to exercise a lot more freedom in the way they dress. There is no denying how utterly and shamelessly lecherous the Delhi man can be. This leaves one with no choice but to dress relatively more conservatively so as not to attract too much attention. I talk here of course, of the very middle class women, such as myself, who often use public transport to do their traveling.
Strangely enough, public transport in Delhi, where it is possibly most essential, is not divided along gender lines. The backbone of Delhi are its buses, and now along some routes, the Metro, but neither has separate compartments or areas marked for women, as say is the case in the trains in Mumbai or the buses in Bangalore. Mumbai trains have separate bogies for women though its buses are more unisex. The buses in Bangalore have a system wherein women use the front part of the bus, using the single door in front for both entry and exit, while the men use the back part.
These divisions ensure that during peak rush hour, all the jostling is happening amongst women and men separately. This, though I found very strange and surprising at first, especially when traveling with friends in Mumbai when we would separate out at the originating station and reconverge at the destination station, has grown on me with time. Anybody who has faced the squeezing and pinching on crowded DTC buses, followed by the inevitable altercations and much swearing, would prefer the separation, gender equality be damned.
These are some observations based on dealing with the people of the two cities. I find the visible character, notably in terms of its architecture and street culture, also very distinct and different. I’ll save that for another post.

Our new Ms President

A rather belated post... written oiginally on 22 July 2007.

Pratibha Patil became the first woman president of the country today. She won by a convincing margin, no surprise in this country where politics can make heroes even of criminals, and her offences have been less grave.
When she was first nominated, the Opposition started a campaign against her, the basis of which was an investigation into her past, and every murky deal that she had been a part of that surfaced as a result was splashed across the front pages of newspapers for weeks afterwards. Not that it made much of a difference. The Congress may have been embarrassed, but could hardly withdraw her from the race, that would be tantamount to giving in. They knew the numbers were in their favour, and so I suppose they decided to stick by their decision. The Opposition on the other hand, continued its campaign, staying in the news, and keeping the issue alive.
I don’t know nor claim to understand politics. Its difficult as it is to form an opinion about anything these days, what with most of the media given to dramatization and sensationalisation, not to mention being also sold out to the highest bidder. In such a scenario, I found myself unable to react meaningfully to reports of Pratibha Patil’s various offences, from the co operative bank irregularities to the abetment to suicide, none of which seemed to be her offences anyway, but those of people close to her.
But what I found absolutely impossible to digest were the news reports of her having had a conversation with a Swami long dead through the ‘medium’ of one of his devotees, a woman living in his ashram. Its incredible, and an indication of the state of our politics that she should still have been elected to the high office of the President. And the fact that she succeeds a man as scientifically inclined as Dr Abul Kalam Azad, cannot be more ironical.
I am a woman and I guess I should be happy at least about the fact that women are finally getting their place under the sun. But as it happens, I’m not. I don’t need any proof nor reassurance that there are women around who are competent and confident, and deserving of all the success that a man with the same capabilities might command. And it does pain me to see that often enough these same women are denied opportunities and in many cases, discriminated against, in much more violent and disgraceful ways. However does that mean that one has to subscribe to the success of every woman who ‘makes it’, irrespective of her credentials. I say absolutely not. It would in fact be a disservice.
That however, was the card played repeatedly by the Congress. I am no fan of the Congress party, but I do not for a moment deny their rich tradition of very charismatic and very powerful women leaders over the years. It is sad then that the Congress of all political parties, should have been the one responsible for imposing upon the country, this dubious honour.