Walk from home to office.

On 2nd October 2005 Shrenik wrote,

I stay at Andheri west near Bhavans College and my office is in Andheri east near Cinemagic theatre. Because of the close proximity to the station I prefer to walk to office, rather than taking any public transport. It takes about half an hour to cover that distance. Staying in a city like Mumbai where sometimes the commuting time exceeds the working hours, it is a privilege to go walking to office.

I generally leave for office around 9.30 in the morning. Place near Andheri station is crowded (even by Mumbai standards) at any time of the day but at 9.30 in the morning it is at its peak. People occupy every inch. Daily commuters along with hawkers and beggars leave only a few centimeters for BEST buses, rickshaws and private cars. These vehicles are also over flooded with people.

There are some unwritten fundas that have been known by everyone walking along these roads. Let me puke them out for you.

It is a crime to walk slowly on the road. It is okay if you are old and cannot walk briskly but if you are slow because you are confused about which place to go or you are a bit engrossed in talking to someone on the cell. Then you have committed a grave offence. You have actually slowed the human traffic behind you. As a punishment person walking behind you would brush you aside. He would somehow find gap between you and the person walking next to you and then try to make an eye contact with you to show that he is not happy with what had transpired. At best he would tell you ‘bageeche mein chal raha hai kya’.

Good-looking girls in mumbai are never seen around in this place. Maybe they are in cars or auto rickshaws, which is why we don’t see them. However somehow by gods grace if you do manage to see a good-looking girl, try not staring at her. For a change, look at people around you. You will notice that everyone is gazing at the same girl. Age is no bar.

Beware of people who have pledged to paint the city red. I meant paint the city red with beetel juice. They are like men on a mission; on some walls or segments of road they have hardly left any space. You should see the way they spray it from their mouth, almost like a pichkari in holi. Somehow if their spits finds your shoe or pant or in worst case your shirt, there is hardly anything you can do about it. You can just make an eye contact as an act of aggression. If he were in an auto rickshaw then he would pretend he didn’t know what happened and then use his power steering to go away from you as quickly as possible.

Crossing roads on this street is like a game between driver and peddler. The person who has more guts will find his way first. If the pedestrian has more guts he would cross the road in front of the slow moving car. In this case the driver has no other option but to wait for the person to cross. Same is also true for driver who refuses to slow down even when he sees people crossing the road. Traffic police is a mere spectator.

Hawkers have left only middle of the road for cars. On the remaining part of the road they sell everything right from vegetables to stationery to underwear. As per the supreme courts judgment there should be no hawker in 150m radius of any public place like a railway station or a temple. But going by this example we can safely say that hawkers are found only in 150m radius of the station.

On my way to office you would find beggars with all sort of deformities. There is a particular beggar I see everyday on the footbridge connecting east and west. He should be around fifteen or sixteen years of age. He has a back problem because of which he cannot walk. He sits on middle of the bridge with a black cloth in front of him to collect money. I call him the smiling beggar. He has befriended the hawkers on the bridge and I see him joking with them all the time. He is like modern day furniture of a city. Thousands of people pass besides him everyday; they have become immune to such sights.

My walk to office is also blessed with pretty sights. Like father escorting his kids to nearby municipality school. Seeing Grandmother play with her grandchildren in a STD booth, pretty girls praying to a stone idol of Ganesha in a roadside temple. Lovers managing to walk hand in hand.

Bas itna hi.