Here are some excerpts of a piece I had written on Mumbai some years back which celebrates the hustling -bustling metropolis that was unfortunately in the news for all the wrong reasons:
"For a person coming from Goa, the complete lack of interest shown by Mumbai commuters in a fellow being is disconcerting to say the least. Whenever I travel on a bus in Goa, and happen to start chatting with the person sitting next to me, I always end up being bombarded with questions about myself. Like where I come from and what I do in life. Like where I am going and for what reason. I have never been able to figure out how the answers will assist the questioner but I reply to them all the same.
Travelling in the ladies compartment in a suburban train in Mumbai provides you with an entirely different experience. You may be practically sitting on someone else’s lap during rush hour but the interest shown in you will be minimal. The only time someone asks you something is when the lady who is standing wishes to know where you will be alighting. Her aim is to book the seat you are occupying in advance of the other commuters. The jolly all-of-us-are-a-family-so-let’s-discuss-one-another spirit that pervades when Goans travel together in a public transport vehicle is conspicuous by its absence.
Going by the pace of life in Mumbai, where people are always hurrying and scurrying, the statement is undoubtedly true. Everybody there is busy - evolving a new business idea, earning a living, making money. If nothing else, then some members of the citizenry keep themselves occupied staying on the wrong side of the law. In Goa, it is said, you have time to pause, reflect, contemplate. In Mumbai, the philosophy is: “Time waste karne ka nahi hai.” A person has no time to smell the roses. Perhaps the reason is because, in the concrete jungle that is the metropolis,there are no roses left to smell."
"For a person coming from Goa, the complete lack of interest shown by Mumbai commuters in a fellow being is disconcerting to say the least. Whenever I travel on a bus in Goa, and happen to start chatting with the person sitting next to me, I always end up being bombarded with questions about myself. Like where I come from and what I do in life. Like where I am going and for what reason. I have never been able to figure out how the answers will assist the questioner but I reply to them all the same.
Travelling in the ladies compartment in a suburban train in Mumbai provides you with an entirely different experience. You may be practically sitting on someone else’s lap during rush hour but the interest shown in you will be minimal. The only time someone asks you something is when the lady who is standing wishes to know where you will be alighting. Her aim is to book the seat you are occupying in advance of the other commuters. The jolly all-of-us-are-a-family-so-let’s-discuss-one-another spirit that pervades when Goans travel together in a public transport vehicle is conspicuous by its absence.
Going by the pace of life in Mumbai, where people are always hurrying and scurrying, the statement is undoubtedly true. Everybody there is busy - evolving a new business idea, earning a living, making money. If nothing else, then some members of the citizenry keep themselves occupied staying on the wrong side of the law. In Goa, it is said, you have time to pause, reflect, contemplate. In Mumbai, the philosophy is: “Time waste karne ka nahi hai.” A person has no time to smell the roses. Perhaps the reason is because, in the concrete jungle that is the metropolis,there are no roses left to smell."
No comments:
Post a Comment