As the plane touched down, I went into a small reverie....couldn't help thinking that I was about to join my first paying job...albeit for two months. I had of course expected Bombay to be a busy city. So I lighted a cigarette and nested myself in the taxi seat expecting a long journey. After spending more time in the cab than I had done in the plane...I arrived near a shabby row of shops selling leather goods and assorted utensils. This, I was told, was the Crawford Market...and I had thought it would be the CP of Bombay! The hotel looked unassuming to say the least; but the rooms were pretty decent for the price tag they sported.
I had a much needed sound sleep through the night and woke up fresh on Sunday morning. After trudging the streets of the Victorian Fort Area...I and my roommate decided to try out the posh neighbourhood of Colaba and locate our office too. Tall residential apartments and office buildings characterized the business district of Bombay. But a rustic touch was omnipresent. The buildings were far from being the architectural wonders one would find in Nuevo-Modern third world cities like Shanghai. We found our office in a sky scraper in Cuffe parade at the tip of the peninsula. Together with Nariman Point this area is our very own Manhattan...but as a photo-essayist mentioned...with a fishing village attached. The coastline here is at the mercy of the Colaba fishermen. The slums dotting the sea front against the backdrop of the sky risers are a blunt rejoinder to the realities of the developing India. It is hard to say which one of these dwarfs the other.
A week of luxurious stay later, we moved to a modest hostel near Byculla. Of all things, we had least expected deafening traffic noise and irritating bed bugs would top the list of our problems through the month. Eventually we managed to shift to the hostel of St Xavier College. In spite of the late night curfew, it is a peaceful place to be in.
Having stayed at different locations and looked for accommodations almost everywhere around south Bombay, we were a little more privy to the idiosyncrasies of the place than your average back packer would be. The down-market eating joints found in almost every street are so similar in architecture, decor and taste of food, they could teach a lesson or two in standardization to the KFCs n SUBWAYs of the world. It was amazing to see how buildings were put to multiple uses - all during the span of a single day. For example, the extreme end of Crawford market is a stinking broiler wholesale house in the morning, a fragrant flower market in the evening and a repository of leather goods later in the night. Pavements in Bombay, of course, are not just mere walkways. Fashion Street near Colaba and the linking road footpath market in Bandra are sprawling enterprises on pavements. The double-decker buses and the horse driven carts are some of the relics of the yore.
Thanks to Harvard, the Dabbawallas of course are legends.
Amidst all the filth and the smoke, the Marine Drive brings in a whiff of fresh air, literally. The cool ocean breeze and the beautiful Queen’s Necklace would force even the stone-hearted into romantic contemplation.
In Bombay, beauty often comes with flaws. On the pavements and railway platforms, it isn't shocking to see a homeless person lying collapsed from drunkenness or hunger. Amidst spank structures, it is not uncommon to see a dilapidated apartment worth well over Rs 50,000 in rent.
After traveling in cabs for a couple of days and realizing how painfully slow and prohibitively expensive they were, we had to take the recourse of that ubiquitous symbol of the Bombay bourgeoisie - the local train. It is the cheapest, the fastest and the most reliable form of transport in this overcrowded sardine-box of a city. At first sight, one would be almost offended by the veritable sea of people near VT and Churchgate. The mad rush during the peak hours is unbelievable. But getting used to it is the only option for the majority of the teeming millions here.
Bombay lives on with the proverbial heartbeat of its stressed-out workers. Life is difficult here. But it is exciting too. One can't help noticing the contrasts, the contradictions - the old and the new, the high rises and the slums, the stink and the fragrance, the gilt surface and the rotting underbelly. But people still come into the city in alarming numbers; perhaps because it is one of the few places in the country where individualism gets rewarded. The common thread that runs through all in the city is the quest for survival and success. The poor desperately trying to make both ends meet, the common man haplessly going about his daily routine, the multimillionaire looking for his next venture, the stock broker following every crest and trough of the Sensex curve, the aspiring actor looking for his lucky break or even the page 3ite crane-eyed for the obliging scribe - no one rests in this city. Bombay is a great leveler. It has some poignant words written on its walls - No matter how rich or privileged you are, put your feet firmly on the ground. It puts you on a balloon but keeps the pin.
In spite of its flaws, it is impossible to write off Bombay. The highest shrine of enterprise in the country, it gives everyone a chance. It forces you to work hard but also allows you to party harder. It grows on you. Your wallet may well become light enough so it could fly but the smile is seldom robbed off your face.
Here, nothing is simple. Every story has two facets. It is hard to not overanalyze such a complex environment. It is hard not to see Bombay in a national and global perspective. It is hard, especially with politics on the mind, not to see every image in light of economic and social policy, to eye its complexities at face value. For a young intern and aspiring manager, a pilgrimage to Bombay offers a chance to - pardon the platitude - grow.
I had a much needed sound sleep through the night and woke up fresh on Sunday morning. After trudging the streets of the Victorian Fort Area...I and my roommate decided to try out the posh neighbourhood of Colaba and locate our office too. Tall residential apartments and office buildings characterized the business district of Bombay. But a rustic touch was omnipresent. The buildings were far from being the architectural wonders one would find in Nuevo-Modern third world cities like Shanghai. We found our office in a sky scraper in Cuffe parade at the tip of the peninsula. Together with Nariman Point this area is our very own Manhattan...but as a photo-essayist mentioned...with a fishing village attached. The coastline here is at the mercy of the Colaba fishermen. The slums dotting the sea front against the backdrop of the sky risers are a blunt rejoinder to the realities of the developing India. It is hard to say which one of these dwarfs the other.
A week of luxurious stay later, we moved to a modest hostel near Byculla. Of all things, we had least expected deafening traffic noise and irritating bed bugs would top the list of our problems through the month. Eventually we managed to shift to the hostel of St Xavier College. In spite of the late night curfew, it is a peaceful place to be in.
Having stayed at different locations and looked for accommodations almost everywhere around south Bombay, we were a little more privy to the idiosyncrasies of the place than your average back packer would be. The down-market eating joints found in almost every street are so similar in architecture, decor and taste of food, they could teach a lesson or two in standardization to the KFCs n SUBWAYs of the world. It was amazing to see how buildings were put to multiple uses - all during the span of a single day. For example, the extreme end of Crawford market is a stinking broiler wholesale house in the morning, a fragrant flower market in the evening and a repository of leather goods later in the night. Pavements in Bombay, of course, are not just mere walkways. Fashion Street near Colaba and the linking road footpath market in Bandra are sprawling enterprises on pavements. The double-decker buses and the horse driven carts are some of the relics of the yore.
Thanks to Harvard, the Dabbawallas of course are legends.
Amidst all the filth and the smoke, the Marine Drive brings in a whiff of fresh air, literally. The cool ocean breeze and the beautiful Queen’s Necklace would force even the stone-hearted into romantic contemplation.
In Bombay, beauty often comes with flaws. On the pavements and railway platforms, it isn't shocking to see a homeless person lying collapsed from drunkenness or hunger. Amidst spank structures, it is not uncommon to see a dilapidated apartment worth well over Rs 50,000 in rent.
After traveling in cabs for a couple of days and realizing how painfully slow and prohibitively expensive they were, we had to take the recourse of that ubiquitous symbol of the Bombay bourgeoisie - the local train. It is the cheapest, the fastest and the most reliable form of transport in this overcrowded sardine-box of a city. At first sight, one would be almost offended by the veritable sea of people near VT and Churchgate. The mad rush during the peak hours is unbelievable. But getting used to it is the only option for the majority of the teeming millions here.
Bombay lives on with the proverbial heartbeat of its stressed-out workers. Life is difficult here. But it is exciting too. One can't help noticing the contrasts, the contradictions - the old and the new, the high rises and the slums, the stink and the fragrance, the gilt surface and the rotting underbelly. But people still come into the city in alarming numbers; perhaps because it is one of the few places in the country where individualism gets rewarded. The common thread that runs through all in the city is the quest for survival and success. The poor desperately trying to make both ends meet, the common man haplessly going about his daily routine, the multimillionaire looking for his next venture, the stock broker following every crest and trough of the Sensex curve, the aspiring actor looking for his lucky break or even the page 3ite crane-eyed for the obliging scribe - no one rests in this city. Bombay is a great leveler. It has some poignant words written on its walls - No matter how rich or privileged you are, put your feet firmly on the ground. It puts you on a balloon but keeps the pin.
In spite of its flaws, it is impossible to write off Bombay. The highest shrine of enterprise in the country, it gives everyone a chance. It forces you to work hard but also allows you to party harder. It grows on you. Your wallet may well become light enough so it could fly but the smile is seldom robbed off your face.
Here, nothing is simple. Every story has two facets. It is hard to not overanalyze such a complex environment. It is hard not to see Bombay in a national and global perspective. It is hard, especially with politics on the mind, not to see every image in light of economic and social policy, to eye its complexities at face value. For a young intern and aspiring manager, a pilgrimage to Bombay offers a chance to - pardon the platitude - grow.
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