Mumbai Threatened

Rickshaw.. wait bloody.. , hey ruko, stop...!! i yelled. But not even a single rick turned back. It was 9 pm, peak hour where Mumbaikars rush towards train, bus and cab stations. I was at one of the secluded place in town where rickshaws were ample but they were really not interested in me I suppose!! I decided to give a shot in walking towards the train station but my mind replied back negatively as during this point of time travelling in trains is just like a battle to be fought. I said lets try once to stop a rick, i glanced on the road, an empty rick was approaching, bhaiya station jaana hai i pleaded..he nodded in return and now i was prepared for a jumpy, back aching ride on mumbai's potholed roads. In the meantime i was ready for  a journey of approx 20-25mins to my destination. I recently heard of Mumbai's Auto Union strike so i just gave a common man's piece of mind by poking him about the bandh fiasco. He replied in a vague manner that he only knew that he has to earn a living for his family. "We never declare strikes its just netas who create trouble in our lives" now in tone to show his protest aginst these strikes. I asked him if he knew leader of the rickshaw union? he said i have been driving in Mumbai for past five years and have never seen or heard about him but i know his name... its Sharad Pawar...!! i was astonished as i heard him.. Kya bola aapne?? Sharad Pawar he quickly replied. I made a quick correction there, and said its Sharad Rao..There was quietness in the air.. He started again on the very next signal, spitting off his paan, he said Saheb, we are just slaves, we slog on these roads, then pack off home only to realize nothing is gonna change. Regional differences,potholed roads, strikes, corrupt hawaldars are our added woes, atleast i am not the one who demands strikes, strikes leads to our losses. But these leaders don't understand and we are just their puppets who give them political mileage.
 I said then why the heck you go off roads?? drive and earn your living, why trouble common man? Now i was in a mood to give a tough fight. Common man V/s Rickshawalla. He said, we are forced to go off roads either they smash us or our ricks. You tamper your meters and avoid short distance trips.. fuming like he was the sole culprit. Saheb, we slog for long day facing several risks everyday, the rent of the vehicle, repairs, petrol, CNG, etc... we hardly earn a good amount after daily struggle. I reached my destination paying him the fare, i moved into railway station for another fight.
I Realized how handfull of goons sabotage life of Mumbaikars. Leaders just gain their political mileage through agendas like region, religion, demands. In a recent headline i read Sharad Rao Gives Ultimatum To The Government. That means another strike and to hinder lives of Mumbaikar.Who the Fu#* Is he?? The bloody neta who don't give a fuck if an autowallah dies hungry on roads. Strikes just fumes Mumbaikar and one day we would go on strike and YOU bloody asshole will remain off road. I mean why does Mumbaikar never comes forward like he did during every crisis.. Give Sharad Rao his shit and throw him out. Ultimatum!! huh.. The person who owns a bungalow, enjoying his rich life why would he give a damn to what an autowallah is facing.
Its high time that we allow our lives to be controlled by these handfull of morons.

Did Somebody say....... RAPE..????

According to the Mumbai Police’s records, a total of 219 rape cases were registered in the city last year compared to 192 cases in 2010. The number of rape cases has, in fact, risen steadily over the past three years, with the figure being 178 cases in 2009.

Mumbai saw a 14 per cent jump in rape cases in 2011, further damaging its reputation as a safe city for women. It also saw a 23 per cent hike in the number of cases registered for outraging the modesty of women last year.That meant that women were not safe in the city of Dreams.

Her retro tiny digital wrist-watch showed 12.30am. A wet shopping bag in hand, trying to arrange her messed up wet hair. It was raining cats and dogs; there was an uncomfortable and eerie stillness in the air; all you could hear were the rain drops. It was past midnight; her shift had ended; there was no soul in sight as she waited for her cab. It had been just over a month since Reema started working in the Call center much against her parents’ wishes.

As she waited for her cab; her mind rushed back to outrageous, gruesome, horrific stories she had heard about rapes and murders in this part of the town. She was dripping wet in the rain, and in the fear of the known- unknown! The rain God didn’t show any signs to subside nor the cabbie or city bus was in sight. Ironically the street lamp next to the stop she was waiting in started to flutter. It was right out of the scene of a Mahesh Bhatt horror flick, and  the part just before the arrival of the demon. Of course this was her real life and not a movie for her to close her eyes and pass through the spine-chilling parts of serious night in Mumbai.

The wind grew wilder, thudding sound of the lightning, the raindrops bigger but there was no end to her frightful wait. The cabbie was not picking up her calls and she could not even find an auto to take her back to her office or even to her home. Newly arrived beautiful girl in town hardly knew anyone who could come to her rescue at this uncanny hour. Diverting her mind off the loneliness and still trying to calm down her nerves taking steps as fast as she could, Chaph-Chaph the water splashed as she stepped forward the only creepy sound she could hear were her footsteps.
Reema saw a Qualis approaching her. She froze in fear from the stories of women being forced into such cars and driven around city while being raped. She wished she had listened to her folks and not relocated to take such a job. She cursed her decision as she frantically sought an option to not fall prey to another such incident and become just another statistic in these ever increasing reports of crimes against women.

Running out of options she finally took out the pepper spray and a pointed object. The beam of light came closer and closer, light beam clearly showed raindrops falling on the ground.As the Qualis stopped near her and the glasses rolled down, still avoiding the intervention; she began to hum  Hanuman Chalisa and pointed the pepper spray towards the car window ready for the assault to save her modesty. There it was, moment to give a daring look, the do or die hour for her. As she was about to press on the nozzle, and shout for her life... a lady in a kind voice spoke from within the car. It was her manager! It wasn’t a rapist or a murderer. It was someone who knew her and stopped to offer her a lift home! She heaved a sigh of relief, the feeling of being raped, molested  subsided. As she accepted the lift; She knew she couldn’t ever be gladder to see her manager then that night! It was as if someone above had made sure of her safety. 


Like Reema there are thousands of ambitious women who tremor walking down the streets of Mumbai during late hours.
Does that mean women should not have ambitions just because a species called MEN is out there to rape a decent woman, a women  who is striving to fulfill her dream, The modesty of women is her pride and that should be respected. Mere Figures and statistics counting would not curb crime against women. The city of dreams they say Never Sleeps is actually being defamed by some night predators.
Its time we stand for change..!! Demand A place for safe commuting for women....
Because Not every girl is lucky like Reema!!

Think Out Of Your Tiffin Box!!

           The day starts by supplicating God Khandoba as he knows that the day would be restless, long and even risky as they would cruise down the busy lanes of crowded Mumbai. Meanwhile the better half is ready with bhakri, kaanda and chutni nicely packed,  and wrapped in a tiffin parcelled so that her dear soul mate doesn't stay empty-bellied. 

           Clad in dhoti, Gandhi cap, long mustache and chewing pan with a large tray of steel tiffins is the unassuming dabbawala who is set out to his work with a strong commitment - To serve the hungry office goers. The devotion, timely service and the most important yummy homemade cuisine makes the day a bit comfortable.

          Though outdated modes of transport like the push cart or the large tray full of tiffins, or the tiffin-laden bicycles, this system of delivering lunch tiffins to lakhs of people across the city has been going on since the 19th century, The concept of the dabbawala originated when India and Pakistan were under British Rule. Many British people who came to the colony did not like the local food, so a service was set up to bring lunch to these people in their workplace straight from their homes.

       I would not be describing what makes dabbawalla a punctual rescuer, or how hard they work because all is said and done in the past with records and honors conferred to the dabbawalla community. Here is a take on how a dabbawalla survives the odds and makes the ends meet. 

        Ready to cruise in their comfort savaari- the loyal bicycle awaits as their master hops onto it and starts the hectic day to collect the Dabbas from every nook and corner daring the rough weather collecting bagpacks from loving wife to a caring mother and the supply chain ( the word when asked often gives you bewildered looks) begins. 

    They everyday participate in the obstacle race and then hurry through Mumbai's jerky potholed roads, crowded locals and busy traffic, climbing up and down the tall buildings often getting stuck in the lifts, but they defeat them everyday one by one and the race against time ends as the Dabba reaches the ultimate consumer-Dabbawalla emerges as a winner. 

The feeling of satisfying someones hunger makes dabbawalla larger than life with the 

Mantra "ERROR IS HORROR !!" 

PS:  Each dabbawala, regardless of role, gets paid about two to four thousand rupees per month. In 2002, Forbes Magazine found its reliability to be that of a six sigma standard.More than 175,000 or 200,000lunch boxes get moved every day by an estimated 4,500 to 5,000 dabbawalas, all with an extremely small nominal fee and with utmost punctuality. According to a recent survey, they make less than one mistake in every 6 million deliveries.

Sharada Within Bombay

She was 69 and suffering from flu for a week. On 6 February 2012 she was rushed to Bombay Hospital when her condition took a turn for the worse. She died on the way passing thru the by-lanes of Bombay. 
The lanes and passages she was so conversant with. Sharada Dwivedi the lone living legend was now no more.  
Sharada Dwivedi, eminent historian , researcher and author, was hailed as one of the few who opened Bombay up to its people. Dwivedi was a product of this city (educated at Queen Mary's School, Sydenham College and Bombay University, where she earned her degree in Library Science);

(Authored by Sharada Dwivedi
and Rahul Mehrotra)

 The panoramic coffee-table book she authored with Rahul Mehrotra-Bombay: The Cities Within (1995)-was a watershed publication, breaking the old mould of 'city histories' with its conversational prose, breathtaking sepia images and broad detail. Other histories that followed (often co-authored) included works like Banganga the sacred tank at the Malabar Hill, Fort Walks, and most recently The Taj At Apollo Bunder. 
 She lived and breathed monuments of Mumbai. She was familiar with every minute detail of the old and neo-gothic structures of the city. History as though unfolded to her. She belonged to Bombay which in return belonged to her. She was a true Bombay-ite who even refused to use the term Mumbai. She loved its culture deeply. And this reflects in her work. The sheer knowledge and understanding she brought to a subject which even most seasoned city planners and politicians of today neglect greatly. 
She loved the streets and by-lanes of the city that was her home, and she dared go beyond to protect the historic identity of Bombay. She has researched history of all the famous monuments and buildings of the city and was always caring for the conservation work. She tirelessly raised funds and created awareness for heritage buildings and championed causes related to the city. She was actively involved with the Urban Design Research Institute, Kala Ghoda Association and other citizen groups. 



Sharadaji, you still endure in the heart of Mumbai. The many researchers you inspired, the students you helped, the conservationists you generously shared your knowledge with, the heritage lovers you introduced the city by your work will all miss you....but most of all, the city of Bombay shall miss you as you were the one who loved and worshiped it the most.


                  May Your Soul Rest In Peace. Thanks for enriching our lives...