From Pillar to Post—Part 2

Picking up where I left off the last time . . . So Marathi-fluent Rucha came down to Bombay, and we made a trip to the University. Unfortunately by then, in moving house, Rucha had lost her receipt, which put us in a bit of a predicament. We waited in the usual line, and she explained the story of losing the receipt. Since I had mine, we were allowed to go in. Back again on the first floor, Rucha started off in Marathi, which got us a predictably good reception. We were told to wait as the “Madam” who could help us had not yet arrived. We ensured we got there well past 10 am, almost 11 am, which is standard government office timing. The room being cluttered with desks and even fewer employees, we waited in the middle of everything. We waited for at least 20 minutes before the clerk who initially told us to wait got fed up with us being in the way.

He got out the register, the same one I saw on my previous visit. Our names were still there, the page had apparently stayed intact, unlike the register itself. Again, we were told we had to go back to the college. And again, I recited the saga that the college told me. And again, we waited.

Finally, “Madam” arrived. She too brought out the register and told us the same story, and we repeated our story again. . . NO, THE COLLEGE DOES NOT HAVE IT! (How hard is it to understand that one statement?!) She couldn’t figure out the problem and told us that we would have to speak to “Sir” who she couldn’t disturb, and she told us to come back another time. At that point, we were tired, hot, and annoyed. So we went away, saying we would come back another day.

However, on the way down, we vented to each other about the sheer absurdness of this bureaucracy. What did she mean “Sir” couldn’t be disturbed? Why not? Was he asleep in bed? Was it 3 am in the morning?

We had had enough! We went back to the “Madam” and demanded to see “Sir.” If she couldn’t disturb him, we could. We had a right, especially since we were students of the University and had come during office hours.

Sir, whose name was Mr. Jadhav, came to Room 1 to see these supposedly insolent girls who had demanded to see him. Realizing we were prepared to have it out, he appeared to be quite affable. He patiently asked questions, trying to figure out where the problem lay. We recited our story; he took a look at the register and concluded the source of the problem.

It turned out our certificates were not signed. FIVE years after we graduated, we had no signature on the certificates. The University evidently prints certificates only if they have been applied for. After we had applied for ours, the Vice Chancellor of the University resigned (or was likely thrown out), and so our certificates, while “ready,” were not signed.

Mr. Jadhav then told us not to worry, that he would get it resolved, and we would have our certificates in a couple of months. Being apprehensive of such assurances, we recited the ordeal we had been through and didn’t trust that it would be resolved this time. He took our names, numbers, and addresses, and told us he would personally look into it, giving us his desk landline number in case there should be another hitch.

We went away rather pleased with ourselves for being more aggressive, for we had never before asserted ourselves so vigorously at any government institution. Our fear of being thrown out and denied what we had come for almost always deterred us from demanding what, only naturally, seemed due to us. In the end, we did get our certificates, not 2 months later as he assured us we would, but about 7 months later. In total, we waited for more than 24 months to see those certificates. A bribe may have helped move things along; however, that’s not what we wanted to do.

There are several points of contention that this experience highlighted for me. One, what happens to a student who doesn’t live in this city and needs a certificate? Does he or she have to spend thousands of rupees making regular trips for two years to follow up? Two, how does one battle this bureaucratic attitude our institutions perpetuate, the attitude of “not disturbing Sirs”? Three, in a city like Bombay, where for generations, languages have merged with each another to form new languages, why should Marathi be treated as the city’s exclusive ticket to getting things done?

I believe that the more we question the Government and its institutions, the better our chances are of change. As for me, I’m not certain why I just didn’t give up, especially since I have never looked at the certificate after having opened the envelope when it first arrived. I know for certain that having Rucha for company in this ordeal helped see it through. In the end, I suppose I wanted to know if government institutions work if people persist and do not to back down in the face of bureaucracy. In this case, it did.

Another Hidden Sanctuary (III)

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A piece I wrote for The India Tube…

http://www.theindiatube.com/travel/the-sagar-upvan-of-colaba

Crack crackety crack!

7am! I’m awake and groggy. The crackers have started, the sun is streaming through my flimsy curtains. It’s Friday and it’s a holiday! One of the few joys of working in India, you get more holidays here than in any other country.

Diwali again, and love is in the air. It’s been Diwali here this whole week. People are in a nicer disposition. They even look nicer, cleaner, and so well groomed. The women have been wearing the bestest of the bestest sarees and some men have even shaved. Public transport is oozing with people in a good mood; this having made this whole past week so unusually pleasant. Even last evening’s sudden downpour didn’t hamper the festive spirit.

Regardless of religion, Diwali is probably the only time of year when everyone looks happier. Serial lights hanging from every surface actually lightens up the night, the diyas look beautiful, and the rangolis add that splash of colour to an otherwise boring, routine life.

The weather as well has started changing; it has gotten cooler, making those long commutes a little easier, especially if you happen to travel a couple of hours each day to work. Getting off a crowded bus and walking doesn’t get you thinking ‘oofff’! iPod on LOUD, wind blowing, traffic noise drowned out, it’s actually a pleasant walk.

For me, the best part of the season is the city’s streets. The lights really do make me happier, there is something beautiful about them. Even the loud garish ones don’t seem too bad. And have you ever noticed how the serial lights on disco mode strung from the shadiest shops and bars make you want to bob your head and tap feet? Haven’t done that ever? Take a walk down your market street or the main road, and experience this once-in-a year joy.

  Happy Diwali People!

Of lights and sounds…

I was playing around with my iPod today and thought about recording the stretch from Andheri-Kurla road to the West. To all you Bombayites living elsewhere, here’s a piece of your city at Diwali…

…and here’s another

Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj Vastu Sangrahalaya…

…Formerly called The Prince of Wales Museum. According to Sumanya, the existing name sounds so ‘un-cool’ that even the authorities had to add ‘Formerly Prince of Wales Museum of Western India’ to the title. Nonetheless, I quite like saying Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj Vastu Sangrahalaya! It sort of poses a challenge to ones tongue really. And once you’ve succeeded in pronouncing the mouthful of words without hesitation, you can almost taste a sense of vain accomplishment. Of course that wasn’t the intention in changing its name.  That's an entirely different story.

 

A week ago a couple of friends and I visited the museum to roam about its long corridors and enjoy one of Bombay’s iconic structures. Now if you have visited any tourist attraction in any part of India, you will have noticed the huge difference in entry fees for Indians and foreigners. True to form, this museum is no different. A foreigner’s fee is 300 rupees while an Indian can enter at a cost of 25. The only saving grace for a foreigner is to be a student and to hold some sort of student identification document. Then, the fee is a mere 15 rupees. The foreigners pass however, comes with a free audio guide, available in several languages.

On entering you are expected to leave water bottles and umbrellas at the door and go through an airport like security check. A conveyor belt moves your bag through an x-ray machine accounting for hidden weapons and sundry. After that, you have a good few hours of walking and browsing ahead of you.  If you do happen to make a visit, do not miss the old grandfather’s clock standing to the right of the entrance. The clock numbers you will find aren’t numbers at all, but in fact Tamil alphabets; quite an interesting piece.

On entering the foyer, we hear a ruckus. Apparently a group of tourists took a picture against the backdrop of the ground floor and was told that photography would cost an extra 200 rupees. Of course this must have insulted the man’s sense of Indianness. How dare he be asked to pay for something that should rightfully be free!!! And so he felt no apprehension in shouting at the top of his voice at the indignity of having been asked to pay for taking a picture.  

Ignoring the loud voices we move on, walking through ancient Buddhist ruins of centuries past, exhibitions of paintings and artefacts donated by several of the city’s wealthiest industrial families. Prominent among them are the Tata’s. Huge paintings and showcases filled with beautiful objects adorn the walls and the museum’s space. Many of the exhibition halls were closed either due to maintenance work or as a result of the lack of an exhibition.  

In a bid to keep people entertained, a kiosk like structure stands at the end of the exhibition on the Harappan Civilization. Here you can digitally piece together an ancient looking pot or make your own bookmark with the help of stamps. Of course, a small donation box is kept at the side of the bookmark stand to encourage people to help maintain such exhibitions.

After speaking to my seasoned Bombay friends, I find that many have never visited the museum. In truth, there is much more that can be done to liven up the place; it barely reflects the country’s history or cultural heritage. Nonetheless, it is still worth a visit.

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Of Monsoon Boons and Banes

July, the month of showers!

Its been a glorious July! Its has! Last year’s rains didn’t quite get Bombay’s water supplying lakes up to the desired levels. And so the city faced a grave summer. By May 2010 newspapers reported lake levels to be going down further, dangerously lingering at the minimum mark. The BMC announced water cuts of 30-50%, which affected even the affluent of the city who normally aren’t touched by these troubles.

And now with July having brought in water in abundance, as of 1 August 2010, lakes have reached up to 86% of their required levels. People are breathing a sigh of relief. (or are they?)

Unfortunately for many, Malaria and the flu have hit the metropolitan hard. The papers report cases showing symptoms of Malaria have gone up by almost 70% in the last two years.  Hospitals are over run with patients. Every year the city is plagued with the dreaded M. Yet every year, the authorities instead of having improved upon services knowing of what is to come with the monsoons, seem to constantly have a reactionary attitude. Almost like ‘lets wait and see how bad it can get’.

Another instance would be the potholed roads. Take a ride (try the rickshaws for the full effect) through an inner road or even try a stretch on the multi-crore constructed highways and you'll know what a regular commuter experiences everyday.

A few days ago, Bombay’s Guardian Minister, Jayant Patil took three BMC additional municipal commissioners on a bumpy ride on the roads of the city. Newspapers report that he drove the car himself, careful to go over or rather dip through every pothole he could find only to literally, drive his point through. End result; a profusely apologetic trio and an assurance that the problem would be fixed within 10 days. (This was on 29 July, another 6 days to go, or do we already know what’s going to be done?)

Yes we need the monsoons, but with a little foresight and attention to the city’s infrastructure I’m sure we can do without its woes.

Bombay Then, Mumbai Now

My colleagues at PUKAR recently gifted me the coffee table book Bombay Then, Mumbai Now; a concise but splendidly visual book to take you on a journey through the city’s history. The photographs are beautiful, giving the reader a fantastic image of the city that once was and how it has grown to be what it is today.

I started with Bombay Now that has an essay written by Naresh Fernandes. A book on Bombay will not be one unless phrases like ‘cultural melting pot’ and ‘packed like sardines’ are used somewhere or the other. In that, it typically describes the city as crowded, filthy and spirited. It contains plenty of facts that have been talked about in many a blog, book and print article. He does however start with his own experiences of this city, in particular the ‘film shuttlers’ and his home Bandra, that makes the essay quite enjoyable.  

Reading on I find that one of the most interesting arguments on this city is very aptly articulated in this  statement he makes…‘The suggestion that Mumbai has some magical, innate hardiness has absolved our administrators of the responsibility of actually fixing our problems. No matter how bad things get, they seem to suggest, we have an infinite capacity to cope. But now it’s all too clear that we're wearing thin.’

We are wearing thin!

Bombay Then takes a look into British ruled Bombay up until the mid 1900’s. Unlike Naresh, Jim Masselos takes his reader through a very well crafted picture of Bombay when the ethos of the city was taking roots. He describes a  city that once boasted of its beauty in architecture, pride of its citizens in the city and more importantly, its cosmopolitan culture; all three of which over the years seems to have eroded. Nevertheless, the description of the city’s history does make you wonder at its growth and transformation as industry grew through the years. You cannot help but feel nostalgic at the city's better planned past and only wished for it to have continued to the present day.

BOMBAY THEN/MUMBAI NOW: Jim Masselos, Pramod Kapoor, Naresh Fernandes, Chirodeep Chaudhuri; Roli Books Pvt. Ltd., M-75 Greater Kailash II Market, New Delhi-110048.

Hidden Sanctuaries II

Following up on the Hidden Sanctuaries series, the pictures below are of a convent in Byculla, Religious of Mary Immaculate, Regina Pacis. The sisters here run a day, night and open school, a working women’s hostel, a hostel for girls in college, a children’s home for underprivileged girls and a social centre for migrant domestic workers. All these activities are spread across a the fairly large campus and not an inch of space is wasted. The land originally belonged to Premchand Roychand, one of Bombay’s Merchant Princes, famous for building the Rajabai Clock Tower at the University of Mumbai along with the library. This used to be the ‘weekend get away’.

It now sits smack in the middle of the city, surrounded by high rises, the JJ Flyover, Gloria Church and many other important landmarks. I can’t resist saying here that while the address now reads ‘Seth Motishah Lane’, it is infamously known as ‘Love Lane’, a name that one can’t help but smile at…It has quite the musical tone.

The nuns here (like every convent I have ever known) have maintained the premises well, keeping as much of the original structure as possible. The main building which houses the Chapel, the nun’s refectory and the reception has now been declared a heritage structure, and is currently under restoration, so those pictures will be added at another time. The other buildings have been renovated and the gardens improved upon.  The stables have been converted into special classrooms, storage rooms and a parking space.

If you would like to make a difference to child’s life here at Regina Pacis, go to http://www.theworldnow.com/cal/startingsponsorship.htm or alternatively, contact me on marinhaf@gmail.com

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Hidden Sanctuaries

Known fact, Bombay can get on your nerves. It can make you yell silently, it can make you cry dry tears and it can make you sweat blood. The city is fast, crowded, smelly, tough and ridiculously noisy.

However, every so often you will come across a place that seems to scream peace. Starting with this post, I will be putting up pictures of places I have visited in the city that are beautifully maintained, have large open spaces, huge trees and not too many people.

Tata Institute of Social Sciences is one of India’s premier educational institutions. The album contains pictures of the new TISS Campus at Deonar in Bombay.

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Jane’s Walk 2nd May 2010- Girgaum, Bombay

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Applications Invited

PUKAR Youth Fellowship Programme 2010-2011 invites youth from the city of Bombay to research their concerns, their lives or their neighbourhoods. Its a fun way of exploring this city, experiencing its vibrancy and going beyond the norm. If you would like to know more about the Youth Fellowship click on the hyperlink.

Borivali National Park and Kanheri Caves after the monsoons

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Jogeshwari’s very own Bandra

A small piece of information I came across today while visiting a colleague…. About 25 years ago, the government moved an entire slum dwelling in Bandra to Jogeshwari, providing only land and not housing. Since then, this spot in Jogeshwari East has come to be known as the Bandra Plot. So at Jogeshwari station when you hear rickshaw drivers calling out ‘Bandra’, you’ll know why!

Smart cards and street smarts

A few days ago I was meeting friends for dinner for a birthday celebration. And as Indian Standard Time goes they were predictably late, although the predictability didn’t help the long wait.

I was waiting for them at Dadar Station, which in my mind is the busiest station that ever existed. People whizzing in and out, running for trains, changing direction, screaming at people bumping into them, children running about the place while their parents figure out which train to take and the heat getting on everyone’s nerves.

I decided to perch myself right under the fan that was generating the strongest breeze and which also happened to be belting out the loudest noise. As I waited for tardy friends (who I hope will read this post) I noticed two kids (a boy and a girl) standing near the newly installed Smart Card Ticket Machines. They in turn were surrounded by a huge crowd waiting for their tickets. As the crowd dispersed, I heard the boy scream ‘local ticket yahan milega, local ticket yahan milega’. (Local tickets available here). The long line of commuters waiting to buy tickets at the counter soon ran to them.

So what exactly was happening… One of them was operating the machine and the other was collecting the money in a little box. At first I thought the two were probably charging  a commission on each ticket. So I moved closer to figure out what was happening. But when I inquired with one of their customers, it turned out that they weren’t charging anything for their services.

When the crowd around them had dwindled to a few people I asked the little chap what was in it for them if they charged the the same rate… and this is what he said… For every 500 rupees of tickets they sell, they make 50 rupees from the ticketing counter. That works out to a 10% commission. 50 rupees on every 500 may seem little, but at Dadar station there is no dearth of commuters waiting to buy tickets and it seemed like their 500 top-up lasted all of 15-20mins.

Before I got a chance to ask any more questions, there was another crowd of commuters waiting for tickets. Who exactly it was who was paying them this commission, I don’t know… How old were these kids, I’m guessing approximately anyway between 13 and 15yrs. I was just struck by the ingenuity and tenacity of it all.

 

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To Khopoli and back.

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Khopoli is the last station on the Central line of the Mumbai Railways. From Dadar it takes approximately 2hrs and 15mins to reach depending on whether you’ve taken a fast or slow train. The frequency is rather tiresome as there are direct trains from CST only every 2 hours. I know that the Mumbai Railways is one of the best in the world in terms of frequency and coverage, however with the boundaries of the city constantly expanding there are a lot more places that desperately need to be covered.

A group of us trouped to Jambhulpada a village about 22kms away from Khopoli station on Friday as part of our Action Research project at PUKAR. Our purpose, to find out how the two groups who have been part of the Youth Fellowship Programme have been doing. The two groups have been working on the subject of Katkari Tribals, the indigenous people of India. Their small projects have many findings that range from exploitative conditions to their living environment and more prominently their lives.   

The trip in total required eight and half hours of travel time, and as long and as tiring as it was, it was equally nice once we were actually there.

Meanderings and Ventilations

Today I was actually out of the office and into the city. I had an interview to conduct and it took me travelling from Bandra to Prabhadevi. I usually travel by train wherever I go but this time I decided to take the bus considering it would drop me to the point I needed to be at.

Buses in the last few years have taken on a new avatar, Advertising. They initially started using the outside of the buses to carry ads which was followed by using small spaces inside the bus and now its grown to using Acrylic Bus Handles to carry advert messages.

I think that’s fine even though they are a tad uncomfortable to actually grip. But the  newly installed TV screens which play repeated adverts takes the cake, constantly playing repeated ads for inane TV soaps to ads for toilet cleaners.

What got to me the most this time was an ad for a Reproductive Centre. It had some guy giving the commentary while the background music was the signature tune from Forest Gump the movie. Another ad for an Animation Institute used a picture of Alexis Beidel, star of a popular US American-Drama show. Copy write laws seem completely non-existent in this city and I’m pretty sure across the country as well. It isn’t uncommon to find a small time hair and beauty salon flaunting a picture of Aishwaraya Rai ‘Bachchan’  on their headboard, like they were her personal hair stylists.

Anyway, getting back to the bus, I sat the forty minute exasperatingly hot journey listening to repeat after repeat of the same ads completely annoyed that authorities make money at the expense of a passenger’s peace of mind. I wonder if they ever stopped to think if we would get irritated by loud speakers blaring nonsense right above your head (or into your face when standing). Isn’t it bad enough we bear with it on long distance journey’s?

Time Out wrote an article on the rudeness of the city, of people monopolising dressing rooms to bhajani mandals in the trains gifting you a cranky mood for the remainder of your day. I think BEST authorities need to read that article.

Not everyone wants to pass their time on the bus listening to senseless ads.

Summertime and the living is not so easy…

Summer in the city can be quite unbearable with the heat and humidity getting to you. Most will describe it as hell. For those of us unfortunate to be here, enduring the relentless heat, we try to find ways to escape. Weekend getaways, air conditioning, movie theatres and sprawling malls. Consumerism at its peek in a flailing economy.

Yet on my daily route to and from work I find that traffic is more bearable and trains are less crowded. My colleague tells me its the summer holidays, people are away, everyone’s in their ‘gaon’. Hmmm, that would make sense. Suddenly I feel the heat is more bearable, realising that I have a little more space in the city. Road, train, standing! Its space. I am actually enjoying the train ride and the roads. Maybe it won’t even be so difficult getting a movie ticket in the suburbs on weekend night.

Summer time and the flowers are in bloom. It struggles to covers the ditch and shit smell that can overpower miles of blossoms. And still early mornings seem blissful. Cool, fragrant and quite. Yet, I yearn for the monsoon and its refreshing scent of wet earth and cool breezes.

1st May Jane’s Walk in Girangaon, Mumbai

 

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Jane’s Walk- Girangaon Mumbai

Jane Jacobs was an urban activist and writer who helped stay several urban renewal projects which were a danger to the local neighbourhoods in North America. On the 1st of May 2009, several of the Jane’s Walks  will be conducted across the globe in an effort to bring people in touch with their neighbourhoods, environment and their city’s history.

PUKAR will be hosting a Jane’s Walk through Girangaon (Village of Mills) in Mumbai on the 1st of May 2009 at 5pm. Meeting point is Bharat Mata Theatre, Parel. The closest station is Currey Road on the Central Railway and Lower Parel on the Western line.  The walk will cover iconic places that have contributed to building the social culture and economic strength of the city of Bombay and will last for not more than 2 hours.

For information on Jane’s Walks, go to http://www.janeswalk.net/

For further information regarding the walk through Girangaon you can contact me at marinha@pukar.org.in 

And I almost forgot… Its free and open to anyone interested in participating.

Firaaq

Firaaq (2008) meaning separation, tells the stories of the horrific Gujurat riots in 2002 that shocked the world. The film portraits the lives of several people and their families and the effects of the riots on the physical, emotional and psychological dimensions.

Of all the characters in the film, the story of Mohsin, a small boy victimized by the violence, was the most haunting for me. From the very start of his role to the very end of the movie, his face and body language rendered his situation in its most bare state. Having worked with children who have been orphaned as a result of violence, I could feel his sense of helplessness and loss. If you’ve had the fortune to have been brought up at home with parents and family to support you and look after you, it can be hard to imagine life without them. Needless to say, having your family taken away by mindless violence is even harder to comprehend as a growing child.  

Although a little one sided in its depiction of the victimization, the film is thought provoking and it left me feeling upset. Upset that violence to many is a means of solving problems. Religious violence has now grown to language violence and even sectoral violence.

The MNS ruckus that occurred in 2008 in Maharashtra could have (and still can if not dealt with more seriously) grown to more than smashing taxis, rickshaws and shops. Are we going to allow more riots? Are we going to sit back and watch more devastation? What is it that we can do as a part of civil society?