Slum Bombay

Every now and then, one runs into some dude or dame who is militantly for or against something or other. Sachin Tendulkar fans, white supremacists, Marathi supremacists, homophobes who insist being gay is a disease and so on. People who start off being nice and middle-class, but as one probes deeper, or disagrees longer, they start getting a little hot under their collar, their voices go shrill, their tone nasty, their words lose coherence and they start spitting at you as they talk. You know the type.

And the worst are those who love Bombay. There is no city that has more dedicated defenders of the faith than this one. It’s like the bloody Saracens in Jerusalem, except nastier. Every city in the world is not as good enough as Bombay, there’s nothing wrong with it at all. Safe for women, public transport’s the cat’s whiskers, the rains are so beautiful! Hameen asto and all that guff.

Oh, and they have an especial contempt for “the Dalli”.

Ah well, I got something that will gladden a Bombayer’s (Mumbaikar? Bombayite? Bambaiyya? What the hell do they call themselves?) heart. In the recent census conducted by the government of India, it has been found that 78% of people in this city lives in slums. 78%! That’s 4 out of every 5 people in the city. And this is a city with more than 31 million people in it.

It’s an amazing fact, and when I first read it I felt a bit chuffed. I mean, they’re right, there’s no other city in the world where I am in the top 22% percent of the populace economically. I’m better of than any 4 other guys I might meet on the street. And this when I’m temporarily unemployed. Totally cool. Rah for poor people. Let there be more slums. Let them eat fruit cake.

And then, chasteningly, my brother told me that the people living in the slums may not necessarily be poorer than me. What with all the Slum Rehabilitation business and the unique way that the human brain is wired, it could be that under the paper thin mattresses they sleep on could be loads of lucre. Money just stashed away for a rainy day. Or not, actually, since every day is generally like that. Humbling. Now I live in a city where the slum-dwellers are richer than me. It never gets better.

There’s no point to this except my amazement at the census figure. I reel.