Zainab Bawa’s Blog

14 ^th September 2005

Difficulties in relationships and dynamics of public space and community have begun to surface today. Last evening, Manoj Kumar asked me for my phone number. On the one hand, I was very reluctant to give my number. On the other hand, I felt that not giving my phone number would make me an upper class researcher. And here is where I have felt dilemma and questions – who is the subject? Is the subject simply a person of inquiry? Is the researcher ‘interested’ in the subject as long as the research goes on? What about relationships? Does research address questions about relationships and life?

I gave my cell phone number to Manoj Kumar. And just as I had guessed, my phone was flooded with crank calls and phone calls from Manoj Kumar since morning. Initially, it felt like I would never be able to go back to Marine Drive . I wondered whether everything which had been built was destroyed. I was sensing my own vulnerabilities as a woman. Yet, dealing with this situation is also part of the process. I cannot let this go just because a difficulty has arisen in the relationships – with people and with the spaces. Confronting and resolving difficulties is part of the process of relationship building.

While this issue has come up, I am examining the cultural aspirations which everyday people have (and here, as I write ‘everyday people’ I am sounding patronizing!?!?!). In dealing with Arjun bhai, the issue of aspirations had come up. He would tell me that the present times are modern times and women are too liberal in the present times. Yet, whenever I would meet him, he would insist on shaking hands with me because these times are modern times and instead of namaste , I should shake hands with him because he likes to be modern. Even with TC Zubair, I have experienced his aspirations to reach a certain ‘high culture’. He admires how I travel to different places on my own and tells me, “It is difficult to travel alone. I should know from you the various books you read. I should also be reading these books.” Whenever Zubair and I go out, he eats with a fork and spoon while I stick to the hands formula. I wonder whether difficulties arise because I am an English speaking girl, ‘modern’ if you may please, who is interested in everyday life? I battle with myself not to give into stereotypes and prejudices, to overcome these. But today, with Manoj Kumar’s phone calls, I am re-questioning my own self. What are the boundaries? Are there any? How do I deal with these?

I did not go to Marine Drive this evening …

zainab xanga

13 ^th September 2005

This evening, I am at Marine Drive again. Nowadays, more than a researcher, I am a self-discipliner as well as a walker on the promenade. I keep walking, also in an attempt to feel the atmosphere and experience space. Observing other people’s practices and experiences of space is interesting. But as a researcher, I cannot be removed from the audience for I am as much a participant and practitioner as everyone else. No holier than thou legacies here!

I am walking along the promenade. It is 7 PM and darkness has taken over light. It is wonderful to be walking, and yet, the experience of observation and observing is different because of insufficient light. What is the relationship between light and space?

As I am walking, I am certain about how at different points at the promenade, the space has different characteristics. Space of the promenade is not a linear, homogenous space. It is many spaces which become one only due to perception. The space opposite Marine Plaza Hotel is completely different from that opposite Hilton Towers – the former is pure isolation and even a bit repulsive while the latter is vibrant and full of people. The way people use spaces in these areas also seems to be determined by light. I am now certain that there is a strong relationship between light and space.

Lovers and couples are in intimate contact with each other at every point. Again, spaces where couples are intimate are spaces where there are lots of people as well as spaces where there are not lots of people. Intimacy creates its own space amidst crowds and this is a fascinating experience – how personal space operates within the realm of public space!!! As I walk up and down, I feel the vibes of intimacy. It seems like a cosy atmosphere to walk around in. The private security guards are also not interfering in the spaces of affection and love. I am not sure how they feel about this, but I am wondering how these emotions and affections displayed in public influence the character of the city per se. I have no moral issues with kissing in public and displaying affections in public. Yet, what irks the moral brigade? Perhaps Marine Drive continues to be a symbol of freedom in this city – freedom, which makes this city very, very special!

Manoj Kumar : Manoj Kumar is present this evening as well. He is again sitting on the sea wall. Seems like he is without business even today. He tells me that he was participating in Ganpati festivities yesterday. “I really enjoyed myself in the middle of the sea. I can swim. Swimming is good fun.” He asks me whether I go to Delhi or not. I tell him that I was in Delhi very recently. “ Delhi is a different city,” he starts to say, “ Dilli dilwalon ki, Bambai paisewalon ki ( Delhi is a city of the large-hearted while Bombay is the city of the moneyed!)” and we start laughing. Manoj Kumar was recently in Jammu, participating in the Vaishno Devi festival. He seems to be a man with a lot of faith in gods and goddesses. “I tell you, Vaishno devi fulfills all our desires. She has healing powers. A physically challenged child left at her doorstep overnight is cured the next day morning. It is when the Mata calls that her devotees have the opportunity to go to Vaishno Devi.” As Manoj Kumar speaks to me, I question the practices of religion and faith among people. Religion is a sensitive issue, a matter of the private domain. It becomes an exciting and volatile issue when in the public. Religion is that anchor which leads you towards spirituality. Spirituality is that state where you leave behind the anchor of religion. Spirituality is a state where the boundaries of inward and outward begin to diminish. In everyday life, religion plays a critical role. I am yet to understand the nuances of everyday religious practices. All I can conclude right now is that among the middle-class and regular office-goers, religion seems to provide a sense of security – a sense of regularity which in turn provides a structure to everyday life and therefore security.

I walk up and down the promenade. Sometimes I unconsciously ignore Manoj Kumar’s presence on the sea wall. Sometimes, I just smile as I pass by him. There are times when I want to be alone on the promenade. But a community is gradually developing and as the depth increases, I am sure that questions about relationships, and issues in relationships will arise. And then it will be upto me to decide whether I choose to resolve these issues or avoid them.

Ultimately, one difficulty and one insight surface this evening itself. Manoj Kumar asks for my phone number because he wants a job. I don’t want to give my cell phone number because I am yet to develop trust in him. I am not sure if my phone number is safe in his hands because he appears to have tendencies towards mischief. But I am intrigued that he wants a job. He says that business has become difficult because surveillance is strict. This hampers business. Therefore he wants a job. I am surprised but at the same time this is an important insight. Bombay has been a city of enterprise. It is the freedom to establish trade, through legal and illegal networks, through tactics and subversions, influence and power, that have made this city special. Enterprise has the character of innovation, risk and fulfillment of dreams which then lends to the spirit of the city. But from what Manoj Kumar has said today, it appears that the spirit of enterprise is reducing in this city because conditions of freedom are decreasing and government intervention is increasing. Multinationals are establishing in this city – we are now thinking in terms of big businesses, bigger structures, but perhaps this has a drastic impact on the local relationships and local interactions. Taking people away from enterprise and pushing them towards jobs is like enslaving people. And if people are slaves to jobs, what then becomes of the spirit of the city? And, whoever said that jobs provide security …

The evening closes on this insight!

zainab xanga

This week has been interesting in terms of field work. I began doing the rounds of Marine Drive regularly this week. Migrants from Azamgadh, on the border of MP and UP, form the main hawker community around Marine Drive . Most of their co-villagers have established businesses here. The younger people from the village then come and join their relatives in the business.

Patrolling at Marine Drive has become very strict. Nowadays, the MCGM van does not come regularly, but a plainclothes cop does the rounds to catch hold of hawkers doing business on the promenade. There are more private security guards at Marine Drive than usual. Two guards patrol at equal intervals on the promenade. The private security guards have acquired the status and power equivalent to that of a policeman. Earlier, the guards used to be afraid of the hawkers because hawkers would beat up the guards. But nowadays, the guards are able to wield more authority and take actions as if they were law enforcers and policemen themselves.

An interesting thing which occurred on Tuesday was when Manoj Kumar, a stall owning hawker started saying to me, “I want a job. It is getting difficult to survive here. Policemen and municipality don’t let us do business. Things are becoming stringent.” Manoj Kumar’s remark is pertinent because it describes the character of the contemporary city of Mumbai . Bombay was once the enterprising city – a city where no one went hungry because there was business for everyone to do. Gradually, new government regimes are taking away conditions of freedom. Everyone is being pushed into jobs. Freedom of enterprise is freedom of the individual. Gradually, this enterprising city is turning into a service economy. Freedom is traded for security of jobs – and interestingly, there is no security in jobs either!!!

Finally, another interesting event took place last evening. I met Santosh Yadav after a long time. I asked him that he was not to be seen since quite a few days. He narrated a story to me, “There was a man who had a licensed food business. He decided to go to his village for a month. So I asked him to lease his licensed stall to me for a month. I paid him Rs.20,000 and took over the business. I made a profit for Rs.60,000. The person came back yesterday. I handed over his business to him and he gave me my deposit of Rs.20,000 back.” What is interesting here is the negotiations which take place between people without government interventions and how these negotiations define the character of the city in a larger perspective.

I am still thinking whether centralized systems are homogenizing? Is control about homogenization?

zainab xanga

12 ^th September 2005

This evening I am at Marine Drive / Nariman Point. It is quite pleasant here. Gauri Visarjan is happening in the city today. Marine Drive is a bit empty. For experimentation, I decide to walk up and down today instead of sit for a while. I have been unable to concentrate and focus these days when I am at the promenade. So I simply decided to move around and see if I could come up with a new methodology!

I started walking up and down. I have also gotten into the habit of talking incessantly on my cell phone when I am at Marine Drive . Somehow, there is an intense sense of pleasure talking with friends when I am walking up and down. I decide to call an old friend while walking. A sense of joy overtakes me these days when I am at Marine Drive . I don’t know why this is the case. The experience of walking here makes life feel beautiful and wonderful. It’s a pleasure to be alive and kicking!!!

As I am walking backwards, towards Churchgate, I see Manoj Kumar. He has changed a bit. Perhaps he has become fatter. Both of us call each other. “Arre madam, where were you all these days? On some days, I used to think about you,” he said to me. He immediately brought out his hand to shake hands with me. I shook hands with him. I am convinced that shaking hands is a symbol of modernity with some groups in the city. Manoj Kumar started to say, “I came to this city eight years ago. I am from Azamgarh village. A fellow from my village had established himself here for almost twenty years. So I also came here and joined him. Earlier, we had two stalls at Marine Drive . Now we are managing with the one behind. I am telling you, our people have made loads of money here during the peak dhanda time. Therefore, most of them did not mind going back. They developed their properties back home – houses, buildings! Now we are still here. Business goes on. We tell the policemen, ‘you let us do business, earn four pence, we will give you two pence from this – live and let live.” Here I protested and said, “But why should you give two pence to the policemen? They haven’t earned this money. It is haram ki kamaai (non-permissible income)!” My sense of justice and rights was evoked! Manoj Kumar said, as a matter of factly, “Yeah, I know this is haraam ki kamaai , but what to do. We have to do business nah!” I asked him if I could come with him to his village the next time he went there. He was elated. Said, “Arre madam, you have said it and I will surely take you. I feel so much happiness in my heart when you ask me to take you to my village. I will take you everywhere around my village and countryside. Don’t worry.” I asked him which places he liked best in Bombay , “I think Gateway of India is sahi jagah, ekdum mast . It is quiet. Unlike here where people come to jog, at Gateway, people simply come ghoomne ke vaaste (for leisure and entertainment). I like that place. My work starts in the evening. So in the daytime, I take my cycle and start roaming around the city. Comfortable life hai apna .” I asked him if he was in Bombay during the 26/7 floods. “Oh yes, I was here. Too much water. But you know what, at Nariman Point there was hardly any flooding. In fact, there will never be flooding at Nariman Point because the sea will take away all the water.” He said these words with a great sense of reassurance! As a by-the-way, I asked him if he had ever been to Inox theater. “Oh yes! On day one I went there! See, some of our friends were doing black on the tickets. I also bought ten-twelve tickets and did black on them. I earned five hundred rupees and one ticket was left over. So I decided to go in there and watch the film. Mast theater! You must go there. The screen is in front of you and at the side there is jhakaas sound system. Watch the visual on the screen and listen to the audio from the side. I tell you …”

All this while, Manoj Kumar and I were sitting on the sea wall. Ultimately he said, “ Chalo , let’s walk. I don’t feel nice sitting here. Actually, I did most of my business yesterday. Mondays are days for rest and relaxation because hardly any public comes here on Mondays.” We started walking. “Where do you live madam?” he asked me. I told him where I live! I understand that he is very fond of me! He is a nice person, but again, I become conscious while speaking Hindi with him. we walked for a while till he said bye to me, “Now I will do some dhanda ,” he said.

I continued walking up and down. My cell phone was on all the time. Mr. Thakkar passed by me. He shouted out to me, “ Mobile , mobile!” He does not like mobile phones. Once again we bumped into each other and he said in Gujarati, “ Aji sudhi mobile chalu che? (Mobile phone is still on?)” Towards the end, Mr. Thakkar was standing with a friend opposite the Air India building and chatting. I finished speaking on the phone and decided to go over to Mr. Thakkar and say bye to him. “These mobile phones are a hazard! I have a friend. He travels from Borivali to Churchgate everyday in the train. And right from Borivali, his phone is on till he has reached Churchgate! I can well afford to buy a cell phone, but I don’t. Kaam chal jaata hai phone ke bina! And you know, this mobile phone spoils the brains and the ears. The radiations are harmful.” I listened to him carefully. In the meanwhile, Mr. Thakkar’s co-jogger friend arrived. “Hello Bawa,” he said to me. Then he turned to Thakkar and said, “She is Bawa nah?” Mr. Thakkar nodded. “How are you?” he continued. I told him I am well now. Mr. Thakkar said, “Yes, you look better now, in good health. Now, you must give us a party. Where is the party?” I said, “Wherever you like!” On that, all three of them turned and pointed fingers at Hilton Hotel, “THERE!” And we burst out laughing. Truly, urban desires and aspirations – of high-rises, high-society and horizons …Really, Marine Drive is becoming a community space for me!

zainab xanga

12 ^th September 2005

I was traveling from Grant Road to Churchgate. A few days ago, I was in Delhi , running up and down the Delhi metro. To say in the least, it is like an international metro system – air-conditioned, steeled and glassed, automated, you name it! While traveling the metro, I would often compare it with the Mumbai local trains. And my comparisons would invariably center around issues of space, time and community and locality. Journeys on Mumbai’s local trains are much longer because the distances are greater. In contrast, in the metro, maximum time spent on a journey would be twenty minutes. The structure of the metro is different from the local train i.e. the inside built structure. The metro has a side seats and middle standing space. And it is connected through and through. There are no ladies; and gents’ compartments or for that matter, no first and second class compartments. Interactions in the metro would therefore be very different from those inside the compartments of Bombay ’s local trains!

Like I mentioned earlier, yesterday I was traveling from Grant Road to Churchgate. I imagined this to be a metro-like journey, short and uneventful. But I was completely wrong. Unpredictability is the game of the spaces of the local trains! At Charni Road , a hip old woman stepped inside the compartment. She was very magnificent and graceful. She was dressed in an elegant blue saree and was wearing dark black glasses. In her one hand was a purse and in another was a cloth bag in which she was carrying vegetables. She parked herself right in front of me. I thought of asking her if I could take a picture of her!

At about Marine Lines Station, I suddenly realized that I had forgotten to take my evening medicine dosage. I opened my big bag and started fishing for the medicines. Soon, I realized that a beggar boy was standing at my side, expecting that I had opened the bag to give him something. I thought of giving him the fruit which was in my bag. Suddenly, the lady said, “ Ghar se bhag ke aaya hai kya? (Have you run away from home and come here?) Jao, idhar kuch nahi milega (Go, you won’t get anything from here!)!” She then turned towards me and said, “Don’t give him anything. Were you going to give him something?” I was intimidated by her tone. I said, “I had opened my bag to bring out my medicines. I did not realize when he came and stood besides me.” She said, “You see, he has run away from his home and come here. See the tilak (saffron religious mark) on his forehead. I am sure he has come from a Ganpati procession.” She kept on watching the boy as he moved up and down the compartment. As he passed by us the second time, she said to me again, “See, he is wearing chappals as well. His mother must have sent him here or he must have run and come here to make some money,” she continued saying to me.

What intrigued me about this incident was the practice of marking which we indulge in in this city! The old lady was carefully marking the boy for signs and was making decisions about his history and whereabouts. I am not sure whether something like this might happen in the Delhi metro. But in Mumbai, I think we sure indulge in these practices almost invariably … instinctually …

zainab xanga

11 ^th September 2005

This evening I met a planner from the Eastern part of India . We met to discuss issues of land and housing in Mumbai city. I imagined that the meeting would last an hour. It seemed to go on and on till I eventually realized that our planner friend is seeking to talk to someone. I then invited him to take a walk with me along a promenade in the city. We began walking. “I live in a 8 by 12 ft room. It is well furnished and has a television. That’s all. I go there only at nights. Otherwise, I am working in office all the time. In this city, there is hardly anyone I know. If I discuss the issues that I am discussing with you with my colleagues at work, they wouldn’t be interested in listening to me. All they’d want to talk is business – where’s the money? I have lived in cities all my life. I lived in Kolkatta, then Delhi following with cities of the Middle East , then Ahmedabad and finally here, Mumbai! Have you ever eaten bread-pakoda in Delhi ? It is a common street delight in Delhi . I don’t know how old that bread must be with which they make the pakoda. And the interesting thing is that in Delhi, if you see most buildings, they have the triangular pakoda kind of structure on their facades as well! So Delhiites eat the bread pakoda and put it up on their building facades also!”

We walked along the sea. “Have you always lived in Mumbai?” he asked me. “Yes,”
I replied. “What do you like about the city?” “I like the fact that at least it has the sea to which one can take recourse when one is too worked up and needs space. That is unlike Delhi where there are few or none public spaces to bum around without having to spend much money. The other thing is that Delhi is a circular city. The scale is much larger and wider than Mumbai and hence, the city is imperceptible to me. I cannot fathom it and it confuses me. As one auto driver said this time, “ har taraf 360 hai ! (everywhere you go, it is 360 degrees!)” Mumbai is a linear city and therefore, the scale is much smaller. And of course, the biggest asset of this city is its public transport system which gives you a sense of freedom of movement and sense of community as well!” He seemed to agree with my observations, “ Delhi is too hot. We used to live in the DDA ( Delhi Development Authority) flat. It is like a vertical slum. The room was as tiny as the one I am presently living in. In the summers, there would hardly be any water and electricity. We used to sleep on the terrace because it was so hot in the room. People in Delhi can be very rough and aggressive!”

We went on talking for long – about hobbies, interests, writing, research, time, parents, etc. Time went on and on, and perhaps he would have continued talking if I did not decide to leave.

This evening’s experience brings me back to questions of loneliness, the instincts which make us human animals, companionship, community, spaces, individuality, anonymity and cities. Perhaps all I could do was to empathize with our planner friend and share a few moments which would bring relief – like rains to a parched desert. But beyond this what? How can communities and spaces develop in cities? Are communes the only way out to live and experience community? …

zainab xanga

10 ^th September 2005

I have been watching the way in which dividers are being laid down across major roads in South Mumbai . I personally find them hazardous. But what is interesting when I watch dividers coming about is the thought about tendencies of action and reaction. Some days ago, news spread about ban of plastic in the city. Nowadays, we read about the after-effects of the ban – workers’ livelihoods threatened with the closure of the plastic bag industry; milk prices may increase because milk will now have to be packaged differently, etc. There will be more problems that will come up. I am not saying that a ban on plastic was not required, but let’s just examine the way in which this ban was brought about. It was an almost emergency situation which required the bringing about of this ban. What kind of action is this then? Similarly, is laying down of dividers on the road a matter of ‘pro-action’ or simply ‘reaction’?

While at the Vipassana course, Goenkaji used to talk about the philopshy behind Vipassana. We react to pleasant and unpleasant sensations. We crave for pleasant sensations and want to avoid unpleasant sensations. We are constantly reacting to our sensations. When I bring this philosophy to the everyday situation, what immediately comes to my mind is the practice of ‘activism’. ‘Activism’ can also be laced with a lot of reaction – we react to injustice in society, to problems around us. But is reaction the answer? Peter Senge, in his book ‘The Fifth Discipline’ talks about the notion of ‘pro-action’ saying that we believe we are being proactive, but in reality, we are only reacting. Reaction involves us and our emotions. We are unable to see the situation clearly because everything is painted with the colours of our emotions. Vipassana teaches us to observe our arising and passing sensations and to watch our reactions. As we watch, we become external observers. And that helps us to remove ourselves from the situation. In ‘activism’, we also tend to bring our personal baggage in our fights against injustice, poverty, inequality, etc. This baggage is our past, our personal relationships, our own difficulties, etc. Separating our reactions from actions is very tough, I believe. But when we do, then that action is action taken for the sake of taking action and not of reaction.

Thus, laying down dividers or banning plastic bags are tendencies of reaction. Are there other ways in which we can deal with these situations?

P.S. Check out www.ishmael.org for essays on legitimizing drugs in countries …

zainab xanga

7 ^th September 2005

It’s 11 o’clock now. I am quite happy with my day today. I met with some wonderful friends. I chatted lots. But the best part of the day and the happiest moment was at night when I shared my personal history with a friend who in turn felt that he could also acknowledge and accept his personal history instead of shoving is under the carpet and repressing it. At that moment, I began to wonder about my own research on public spaces. And I am wondering what kind of generic, organic and created public spaces can exist in cities which enable us to indulge in sharing and communicating. Two things that I have been cogitating about:

1). Personal Histories: Each one of us has had horrors and traumas in our lives. Sharing personal histories enables us to put them out there, taking them out of our systems. This ‘putting it out there’ allows us to view events and incidents as external observers as against the previous situation where we had been completely caught up and emotionally involved in them. Viewing the events and incidents as external observers enables us to become aware of the choices we have with respect to the present situation and the ghosts of the past. This is encouraging.

2). Safe environments to share personal histories: Public spaces are critical because they allow us to experience emotions and events together with people who are also facing similar situations. I am not going to dabble into the scale of public spaces because I have no answers myself right now, but safe environments to share personal histories and listen to each other’s stories require smaller scale. How do these spaces emerge in cities? Perhaps blogs are one such space tainted of course with elements of anonymity.

I am thinking …

zainab xanga

7 ^th September 2005

I was traveling in a local train from Byculla to Dadar. The compartment was fairly empty. A woman sitting before me was trying to open a packet of fried snacks. She started with punching holes with a safety pin. But delicacy was not paying off. There were three of us sitting before her. She kept smiling at us as she hopelessly tried to open the packet with the lame safety pin. Ultimately, she just tore open the packet with her hands and she the snacks flew out. She smiled again at us, as if we were watching her. She also wanted the same reassurance which the Parsi aunty wanted from me the other day. The lady sitting next to me smiled back at her as if understanding and reaffirming ‘this happens man, no sweat!’ The lady before us was reassured.

I wonder what creates self-consciousness in us in public spaces. The self-consciousness expressed at Marine Drive is different from that manifested in trains. Back in the night, I was traveling in a bus from Bandra to Byculla. At Dadar, several women got inside the bus. The man sitting next to me said to the women, “Why don’t you go ahead and ask the men to vacate the ladies’ seats they are sitting on? Go, go!” The women were very self-conscious and refused to do so. What causes self-consciousness in us in public spaces?

zainab xanga

7 ^th September 2005

I was traveling in a local train from Dadar to Bandra. There was quite a festive rush in the train. I boarded the train from Dadar station. A horde of us tried to get in. A girl and her mother were navigating their way towards the door. The girl was about six or seven years of age. She was irritated with the rush and crowd jostling her in the process of settling down. She instantly reacted and pushed everyone coming towards her. She could not tolerate the crowd. I wonder how we as adults manage to tolerate crowding. While in Delhi , I was talking to Rana Dasgupta and telling him how I could not come to settle down in Delhi because I found the city unsafe for women. “Delhi will curb my freedom to roam around freely at night, without owning a personal vehicle. This is a luxury in Mumbai. I can’t stand news of constant sexual violence against women I keep hearing about in the media!” A colleague from Sarai happened to drop by and Rana asked him, “Ravikant, you think Delhi is more violent than Mumbai?” I immediately responded to Rana, “I don’t mean to say that Mumbai is not violent. It is a very violent city. Its violence lies in the pace of time and people’s rushed tendencies and practices. Over a period of time, we become numb and sensation-less until one day, the reality hits us so hard that we loose all sanity and balance. Delhi ’s violence is different. Perhaps in Delhi , violence occurs inside people’s homes. Children are forced to conform and that makes them numb and passively aggressive.”

Amidst all the rush and push, the ‘item’ of the evening was an oldish young woman, perhaps about fifty-five, short, dressed in a red mini-skirt, black top, high heels, dark shades and a bright red flower in her hair. She was carelessly hanging out of the train. I am curious about who she is! She was some phataka!

zainab xanga