Mee Mumbaikar Nahi!!

It's over a year now in this place and it surprises me that I am yet to form an impression about living in a place like Mumbai. While there are things that really amaze me like the old-world charm of the buildings and roads in South bombay(I still like calling it that!) and the way every nerve of Mumbai functions with little interference(Its wearing out with time I know), there are things that really annoy me and nullify the positives. I cant stand the horrid habit of chewing tobacco like you were on a competition with your bovine counterparts. I cant stand the art of making the world your spitoon all the more. Nowhere else have I seen such a horrendous habit(Fine I havent seen all the world. But the little suffices!). It seems as dear to a family as its heirloom. Bless their souls.!!

It was another one of those days when I was thinking about the level of annoyance Mumbai managed to throw into me, seated in a bus right behind a true Mumbaikar. The vehicle hadnt halted a micro second that the crowd poured out, like water gushing off the dam flood gates. With time I had realised the futility of trying to be a part of the mad rush. A nanosecond wasnt as precious to me as it was for these "hard earning" citizens. I could afford to wait for the bus to empty and take my space to get off.

Another attitude of the modern Mumbaikar that irks me is their total negligence to traffic rules. Pedestrians top the list of citizens ignoring traffic rules. Any mondane Mumbaikar would walk off unstopping from one end of any busy road to the other, cutting right through traffic, with the least concern to the oncoming vehicles. What they fail to realise is 1.Their waiting for their turn would ensure faster traffic outflow from the signal. and 2. They are not participants of some reality program that the world is watching. As I stand there amidst a bustling traffic, opposite an equally or most probably doubly busy train station, waiting for the green to turn red, and find my way across, people pour over all around me and walk ahead. The honks pound as drivers try to wade their way through this ocean of walkers. And the heights of irony was these 'concerned' citizens giving me the dirty look for standing there and obstructing their right of way.

I remember this particular rule that the municipal corporation of Bangalore had come up with, back in the late nineties, when I was in school. They imposed a heavy fine on this act - They even christened it 'jay-walking'. The traffic congestion on M G Road had come down drastically, as pedestrians slowly treaded along the footpaths, in search of a zebra crossing. Mumbai is desperate for desperate measures.

I definitely dint lose much from the two extra minutes I spent at the crossing here - It gave me more time to admire the citizens of this city. Once on the other side, I walked towards the bridge that would take me from the Industrial sector of the area to the residential part of it (OK! For those unaware, The east and west of a region was initially meant to zonalise the area and separate the industrial commotion from the residential peace. Not that we follow what is meant to be). If no other positive effect has come out of my frequent trips to the gym, I am fine. Because one thing I am carrying forward in life is climbing stairs, and doing it with a higher purpose than getting to the top. I usually skip steps and make sure I dont spend more than half a minute in going up the 50 odd steps out there. The fleeting adrenaline rush gives me a good feeling.

As I approached the foot of the stairs, I noticed a traffic jam of different sorts here. Fine, not everyone shares the same opinion about this little ritual of mine. I waded through traffic and was half the way up when a spree of competitors razed up, past me, reached the top and gave me that sarcastic smile. A smile of victory. Its not a city specific phenomenon I know, but what was it with men and not letting women overtake them? It was a road for God's sake.

This brings back times in the Textile city. H and me on the bike and zooming past sluggish men on their bikes, evading a confrontation at home. The minute realisation dawned on them that it was a bunch of college girls, who had just taken over, the Bull is up and razing. Phew.! Kids! I would say. It's a global phenomenon alright.

With a knowing smile on my face, in return to their glance, I walked up and over the train station. It was the usual, buzzing with sights and colors of any road-side market place in Mumbai. They sold everything from pirated cds to t-shirts and trousers. Numb to all of this now, I walked ahead, when a slight agonising moan from one end of the walkway distracted my attention. It was an old lady, hunched with age. The cause of her moan was two saggin bags on both hands, loaded with sweets for her grand children, probably. As she struggled to inch forward, tugging her goodies along, another sigh escaped her frail body. She slowly looked up to ensure she was on the right way, and to judge the battlefield still left ahead.

Observing all this, I had walked a few paces past her, when something made me stop. What was I doing, walking past, like I had a million dollar business to catch up with, when she was here struggling? I stopped. Unsure if I was doing the right thing, I retraced my step back to meet up with the old lady. I bent low to meet her line of vision and extended a hand towards one of her bags. In a soft Hindi I had rehersed in my quick trip to her, I asked her if I could carry her bags till the end of the walkway, to make it easy for her. By the end of the statement, my left hand was clutching the handle of her bag on the right, waiting for her to smile, aquiese and let go of her grip.

I dint know how it began, but a second later she was screaming on the top of her shrill voice.'Chor! Chor!'. I also dint know if the voice was really that loud or it was my racing mind that had amplified all of it. As I turned around to access the damage, I saw glances walk past me, a question in their eyes. I felt her hand loosen my hold off the bag and walk past quickly. As I stood there, shaken with what had just happened, I saw her turn back to give me a last complaining glance. Stealing my grand children's cookies..??

For once I was happy the citizens of Mumbai were not much of the interfering sort or concerned human beings. Else I would have landed up in a hospital near by and the next day's headlines would read something in the lines of 'Considerate citizens save an old lady from theft.','The young woman thief, working in a software company tried to lure the old lady to part with her belongings.','Citizens beat the hell out of the robber and make her confess that she was deployed by a distant wing of Dawood and was trained in multiple arms handling.'.

Was it my mistake? I ask myself again. Do these Mumbaikars need ten bomb blasts rocking the city in an hour or a flood draining their belongings, to show their compassionate side? Wasn't there something called Humanity that should be alive in us at all times? My Mistake!!