A city on speed
Today was a monday like no other in the last many years. 10 excel sheets were not staring at me at 10 am. The one calling me for a WIP report was the boss at home and not the one at work. And the best part is before I realised it was 530 pm. How often does that happen on a monday? Also endearingly called the monday-ne.
Today was the first day of the great house-hunt in Mumbai. I dedicate this first day to all the mumbaikars, each and every one who make the crores of this bustling metropolis, who relentlessly go about their lives with enthusiasm, grit and ambition. It is only these three that make a the heady concoction called the 'spirit of Mumbai'.
The spirit of enterprise - as I stepped out on the road to head to a locality to look for a house, I hailed an auto-rickshaw that took me there in no time. What was to happen next started my journey of comparisons with saddi dilli. I had no change to give that guy so I proposed that he wait for me while I have a look at the house and come back so he can take me back to my starting point and I solve his problem of change. I took my time to see the apartment and came back only to tell him to take me to another place for a look (where he would've had to wait again). He gently obliged. I came back from the second round and then took this auto guy back to my starting point. By then I had run up a fare decent enough to solve his change problem while saving me the hassle of looking for transport. The clincher however came when I was just about to settle the money when he said that he has figured out I was looking for a house and decided to help me by showing me some houses around the same area. He ofcourse showed me some houses but the spice in the story emerges when you compare this guy with the average autowallah in Delhi.
The same scene in Delhi would've started with atleast 5 autowallahs rejecting me like a spoilt brat rejects breakfast. Then, the problem with the change would most certainly have gotten ugly with one of us invoking each other's mothers or sisters. In all likelihood, there is a strong chance I would've been shot at as soon as I came out of the first apartment that I inspected.
The point here is fairly obvious but what mystifies me is why it happens? The sky is the same for both the cities, so are the clouds, and so is the air to a large extent, that is. Is the average mumbaikar wired better for survival than the average dilliwalla? What is it that keeps the clock ticking faster here than anywhere else (except New York which I have to grant to hearsay)? Is it the spirit of life or the bane of existence?
Hopefully I will find the answers in the years to come...
Today was the first day of the great house-hunt in Mumbai. I dedicate this first day to all the mumbaikars, each and every one who make the crores of this bustling metropolis, who relentlessly go about their lives with enthusiasm, grit and ambition. It is only these three that make a the heady concoction called the 'spirit of Mumbai'.
The spirit of enterprise - as I stepped out on the road to head to a locality to look for a house, I hailed an auto-rickshaw that took me there in no time. What was to happen next started my journey of comparisons with saddi dilli. I had no change to give that guy so I proposed that he wait for me while I have a look at the house and come back so he can take me back to my starting point and I solve his problem of change. I took my time to see the apartment and came back only to tell him to take me to another place for a look (where he would've had to wait again). He gently obliged. I came back from the second round and then took this auto guy back to my starting point. By then I had run up a fare decent enough to solve his change problem while saving me the hassle of looking for transport. The clincher however came when I was just about to settle the money when he said that he has figured out I was looking for a house and decided to help me by showing me some houses around the same area. He ofcourse showed me some houses but the spice in the story emerges when you compare this guy with the average autowallah in Delhi.
The same scene in Delhi would've started with atleast 5 autowallahs rejecting me like a spoilt brat rejects breakfast. Then, the problem with the change would most certainly have gotten ugly with one of us invoking each other's mothers or sisters. In all likelihood, there is a strong chance I would've been shot at as soon as I came out of the first apartment that I inspected.
The point here is fairly obvious but what mystifies me is why it happens? The sky is the same for both the cities, so are the clouds, and so is the air to a large extent, that is. Is the average mumbaikar wired better for survival than the average dilliwalla? What is it that keeps the clock ticking faster here than anywhere else (except New York which I have to grant to hearsay)? Is it the spirit of life or the bane of existence?
Hopefully I will find the answers in the years to come...
posted by Saurabh at
1:09 AM
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