Mumbai - It Can Only Get Better

After the usual hellos, the first thing that people asked was if it was my first trip to Mumbai. I would then reply it was my first trip to India. They'd then gasp in astonishment. An Indian who hasn't been to India? Goodness gracious give the man a chappati slap and a cup of chai. "You have to go to Punjab" my Punjabi colleague went. Then he went to describe how the villages were full of druggies or mostly deserted. The contrast of that encounter pretty much sums up my experience in Mumbai and India over the middle of this week. Work fortunately took me on my virgin trip to 'the motherland'. Or should it be 'fatherland'? It's definitely Hindustan or Des. I think 'Mother India' was a magazine.

The commercial and slum mix

Anyway, it's that kind of city, old and new, rich and poor, opulent and meagre, luxurious and deplorable. The plane flew over shanty towns to land at the spanking new, shiny Terminal 2 of Chhatrapati Shivaji International Airport. We, me and 2 colleagues, quickly got through immigration before getting stuck in a jam of cars trying to escape from the multi storey carpark. This was my introduction to Indian traffic and the unwritten protocols of horn, slide in and conquer. There wasn't much to see or figure out on the way to the hotel because it was about 1030pm (1am SG time) when we arrived. Our brains may have been curious but the eyes and body were failing at this odd hour. 

The next morning was a delight to the senses, still a reinforcement of the contrasting nature of the largest Indian city. Straight of the hotel came the onslaught of the seemingly thousands of pesky black and yellow autorickshaws that honked, squeaked and blared while zipping about in any and every direction. I was laughing at all this. An entire land transport system that ignores traffic lights and abides by the honk. Alongside these rickety moving contraptions were brand new cars with prim and pretty passengers. We met our first cow to block traffic. A joke comes to mind - Why do cows have bells? Because their horns don't work. Haha.

Autorickshaws at their best

We passed many squatters and their squatter homes. We went on bridges over rivers that were polluted with trash. We went past low buildings that were homes to many but were in a state of squalor. People were pouring onto the streets to go about their day, kids in uniform going to school, men and women in semi-formal business attire taking autorickshaw rides, people waiting at bus stops to take noisy, red buses, men pushing carts of tomatoes and vegetables. Then all of a sudden the madness gave way to a semi-state of order, the office area. This collection of shiny new buildings in East Bandra were a complex of commercial spaces designed to attract the banks and MNCs, and successfully they did. What's interesting is that the zinc and wood structures where the poor live are a mere a stone's throw away too. Posh gloss versus humble beginnings. My colleague told a story of these squatter dwellers being offered free housing elsewhere and upon seeing it, decided to rent the new premises out, and returned to their old homes. Wonderful. 

Morning meeting

I think it's coming along but there's a long way to go for India. Unlike China where sometimes the powers that be steamroll through decisions for the good of all, much  power rests at the individual level in India. A shack in the middle of the city is still a space carved out for the right of abode, existence and posterity. This has perhaps tempered how quickly positive change can happen. But I sense the middle class wants more. Soon they'll ask for order, for traffic at the least. Famed for the peak hour jams I had to get the truth from my those living the Mumbai life day-to-day. Colleagues who lived 9 km from the office confessed that they took anything from 45 minutes to an hour and half to travel one way to or from work. That's insane eh. If the authorities there get this right and are able to put in some working system and maintain obedience, Mumbai might be unstoppable. We took a ride in a taxi on the new Sea Link bridge. It's actually named after Rajiv Gandhi. There was a jam on it because there was an accident but also because 4 lanes were merging into 2 lanes at one end. Raises eyebrows and calls for a "Hmmm" doesn't it? 

After witnessing the less than perfect state of affairs, I surprised myself when I talked about the potential for new services and businesses that the middle class is hungry for. There's so much that can be done to improve efficiencies or save time. Not knowing the true picture, for the dreamer the sky's the limit here. It's a good feeling. I hope red tape and individual interests don't get in the way too much. Mumbai can only get better. 

Here are some random observations about India's largest city

Superb Masala Dosa at Grand Hyatt

1. No I did not get Delhi belly or Mumbai madness or whatever a gastrointestinal dilemma would be called. The paranoia that brews from horror stories led my colleague to use bottled water to brush his teeth. The food we had was controlled from a source perspective, so no street food or drink, only proper restaurants. It was wonderfully spicy, the long lasting kind that keeps grinding on the inside hours after lunch. Hence the yoghurt or milk to calm the exuberant concoctions. Delicious. I had machine-made chai which wasn't bad but I wanted to try true preparations from a chaiwalla. Next time. Oh yes, Indians eat late, like the Spanish. I thought a restaurant we went to was not quite doing so well given the 6 people there at 830pm. An hour later, it was a buzzing with hungry patrons.

Terminal 2 CSIA

2. They take security pretty seriously now. Any hotel or shopping mall worth it's salt has a X-ray machine for bags and a walk-through metal detector for guests. At the airport, be prepared to have your identity and bags verified up to 4 times before you board your flight. And oh yes the new Terminal 2 is pretty nifty looking. 

3. Did you know Mumbai was previously 7 different islands? One of those islands was called Bombay that was the site of a Portuguese port that was passed on to the British as dowry when some Portuguese lady married an English king. 

With all the reclamation that's gone on, it's still actually smaller in size than Singapore, 603 sq km against 716 sq km. Who'd have guessed?