Of Mumbai, of India

I bitch about Mumbai a lot. It is dirty and incomprehensible and bursting at the seams with humanity, adding more all the time, everyday. There is no fit between our personalities. Mumbai likes it raw and in your face and stripped of all beauty. I like to cover all ugliness as best as I can. But we are stuck to each other for good. I feel guilty about criticizing it, it being my karmabhoomi after all but still, ranting against it is in my grain. We have an uneasy relationship at best. I think it knows that I'd rather be in a more intimate town, less people, cobbled streets and pretty roadside cafes. I went to Brugge once and after wandering the streets for an hour, wondered where all the people were. I will never have that happy problem here. My sister spent some time in Edinburgh and said that I would have liked it. Basically, I have not been giving Mumbai a chance and that's unfair, I decided. My children were born here, for them, it is also the janmabhoomi, they know no other home. It occurred to me that maybe I should take them to the parts that I do like. Our first step was Prince of Wales museum. I have written about it here. It was incredible to hear Adi look at the buildings of South Bombay and turn to me with shining eyes and say, I like those buildings, mama, they are so old. I could have burst open with joy. I spend so much time controlling his life, the toys he plays with, the shows he watches, the children he makes friends with that I have forgotten that there are some things that I have passed on to him just by the virtue of being his mother. When I look back at these years, I know that 'look, mama, old buildings' will be one of the moments I will remember and cherish. I took him to the Gateway of India and tried to give him a mini history lesson. He heard me out patiently and said, yes, but what is on the other side of the gate? Could we go there? We could but we'd fall into the sea, I said. Then we bought him lunch at the Taj. Most posh, though I cannot go into the Taj without remembering the horror of the attacks. The city has been peppered with bomb blasts as invisible landmarks. Look at that, that is the Bombay Stock Exchange, the artery that pumps money into this economy, it was attacked in 1993. That is The Oberoi Hotel, terrorists struck there too and look, this is Dadar station, close to your mum's ex-office, there were blasts in trains there too.

How do you explain a country to your children when you don't understand it yourself?

The weekend after the museum-trip, I took them to Taraporewala Aquarium. He liked the fish but was most fascinated by the whale skeleton on display, The aquarium is somewhat clean, there are signs everywhere exhorting people not to spit. How is it that we have been civilized for five thousand years but still don't know enough not to spit in the open? I read in a book by Shivani once that an old woman had silenced a couple of English ruffians who were troubling two young girls travelling with her with just a few words - this is very un-British of you. I wonder if we have ever responded to being called un-Indian as an insult. I watched this documentary recently. Nothing new there, what baffles me is how we went from there to here. How did we forget so much?

There are potholes on the streets right outside where I live, the manhole covers are missing on the pavement. There are claims made that complaints can be registered online. I did so. It's been many days but no one has responded. I am determined not to ask of my friends - arrey, BMC mein kissi ko jaante ho kya? I am determined to walk the right path, if only to see how long it takes. My next step is our ward representative. Just finding his name is a struggle. If even that fails, I will ask to see Priya Dutt, the MP from Bandra. That I will have it sorted out, I have no doubt.

After the aquarium visit, the family was carted off to Swati Snacks, that divine cornerstone of the chaat culture in this part of the nation. Much food was consumed.

This is only the beginning. When you start, you figure there is just so much to absorb. The malls don't stand a chance.

Mumbai, you bloody beauty, I continue to be in two minds about you.