Well, Mumbai Part 3 today.....a lil bit of anger is what I feel, the motormen are on strike, trains have stranded and Mumbai too...Local Trains as they say is the life line, blood line of the city...After today, everyone has realized that I assume. Its time they do something good for the motormen and the aam junta...
Anyway, am not gonna brag or crib about trains today..Its the streets of Churchgate, Town and VT, I am going to rattle on about..and my love affair with them...
South Churchgate aka Town, always held my fancy, since childhood..Its wide and beautiful streets, side walks, the many hues of the ancient buildings, the spread out blocks with fancy pedestrians walking around leisurely, the chic homes of the ultra chic people...Royal was the word I used for it.....Beautiful, Intoxicating and Royal....Till I went through that one day and what reality check it was....
The time of the day was early evening. Not much of a day it had been, just the regular, a few absolutely non-thought-provoking classes in the morning, the hustle and annoyance at not finding books at the library, and some pigeon poop on my shoulders, which meant I was irritated enough to take off on a walk around the oval, towards the far stretching sea and cool it off.
The soft, soothing breeze, and a relatively empty street was a relief. And then I saw it...A woman was ruthlessly trashing a guy, just around the corner on the road...I almost walked past till a smothered scream held me rooted. I began looking around for the source of the sound, and there in the corner it was. Close inspection showed the class difference and the dominant employer and submissive employee relation, written in the clothes and attitude they were wearing. Not that this is new to me. But what followed was a shocker..clouded with worry and fear, my eyes made a frantic search for some help...And that is when anger gave vent...a cluster of very well to do people watching all of the going, like it was some drama unfolding...I went to ask a bystander to help me stop the woman trashing the man black and blue. The prompt reply was, "Kaun padega ga jamale main?"- "who will get involved in it?"- as he swiftly walked off. Others around had overheard me by than, and began their escape. I tried to yell the woman down on my own and heard something to the effect that, kamchor ki saza...
Ashamed at my inability to do anything, I stood there as the woman threatened the man his job and made for home. The guy then stood up and began laughing loud. He spat on the road, cursed the woman and looked at me..."aare madam, idhar aaisaich hota hai, Wo marta hai, lekin paisa bhi deta hai na....tension nahi lene ka...hum unka naya vase bech ke aacha maal kamayega, saab vasul hota hai..." ...
Not so proud a Mumbaikar I was then...not to proud to see the stark negative side of the city...The deep recesses of my mind bought out the forgotten words..ye hai Mumbai, Yeh hai Mumbai, Yeh hai Mumbai meri Jaan....
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