I’m mortified, stupefied, petrified, and mystified. In all those debates of Mumbai vs. “X” metro, I would smugly mention my beloved city’s “live and let live” motto and promptly win the argument. I would complacently state that women felt safe here, that the city let you be who you are- regardless of your cast, creed, colour, religion, sex and bank balance, that she assimilated everyone in her fold, everyone who ever set foot in Mumbai.
Now, I can’t even brag about Mumbai without squirming uneasily, without making excuses for her shortcomings, without calling reprehensible crimes “one-off”, isolated incidents. Not after what happened outside J.W. Marriott on New Year’s Eve, not after Mumbai and the integrity of its denizens were besmirched by the actions of a few. I arrogantly thought that these things happened in the uncivilized cow-belt, in Delhi and those “other” cities which have none of Mumbai’s sophistication and…spirit.
“Spirit”- how I despise the word. I despise that it has come to encompass both indifference and resilience. I despise that vast multitudes of us just absorb shame, shock, terror and remorse and get on with our lives. It is such an annoyingly convenient cliché, the word “spirit”. But it is just our spirit, our essence, our soul, our ethos and our identity that have been called into question.
Do we dismiss what happened as an anomaly? Is Mumbai on the fast-track to becoming another Delhi, in terms of crimes against women? Will assaults on women be a regular feature henceforth? Should we mourn the death of the legendary Spirit of Mumbai? Do we care?
Of course, we care. This is our home. We are under threat and have to fight so that this city doesn’t lose its identity. We need to wake up and smell the coffee and see ourselves for what we were and what we have become and not wish away these bugbears. Change begins with the acceptance that there is a need for change, a need for tweaking things back to normalcy, a need to eliminate these worrying distortions. May be then I will stand a chance of winning those debates with a clear conscience.
Now, I can’t even brag about Mumbai without squirming uneasily, without making excuses for her shortcomings, without calling reprehensible crimes “one-off”, isolated incidents. Not after what happened outside J.W. Marriott on New Year’s Eve, not after Mumbai and the integrity of its denizens were besmirched by the actions of a few. I arrogantly thought that these things happened in the uncivilized cow-belt, in Delhi and those “other” cities which have none of Mumbai’s sophistication and…spirit.
“Spirit”- how I despise the word. I despise that it has come to encompass both indifference and resilience. I despise that vast multitudes of us just absorb shame, shock, terror and remorse and get on with our lives. It is such an annoyingly convenient cliché, the word “spirit”. But it is just our spirit, our essence, our soul, our ethos and our identity that have been called into question.
Do we dismiss what happened as an anomaly? Is Mumbai on the fast-track to becoming another Delhi, in terms of crimes against women? Will assaults on women be a regular feature henceforth? Should we mourn the death of the legendary Spirit of Mumbai? Do we care?
Of course, we care. This is our home. We are under threat and have to fight so that this city doesn’t lose its identity. We need to wake up and smell the coffee and see ourselves for what we were and what we have become and not wish away these bugbears. Change begins with the acceptance that there is a need for change, a need for tweaking things back to normalcy, a need to eliminate these worrying distortions. May be then I will stand a chance of winning those debates with a clear conscience.
