Saturday, 19 April 2014

December 6th





(17th Dec ’06)

             A few days before Ambedkar Jayanti, my sister-in-law and I visited the Chaitya Bhoomi, Mumbai, where several lakhs of dalits converge each year to pay homage to Mr. Ambedkar. The building they all converge upon stands at one end of the Shivaji Park beach, neighbouring the cremation ground there. It’s a large, single circular room devoid of the trappings we associate with temples. No flowers, incense, vermillion, oil. No statues. There’s a parapet running around the centre on which are placed, near the pillars that hold up the domed ceiling, photographs of Mr. Ambedkar, his wife Ramai, and his father. There’s a wooden model of a stupa (I think) in the centre, and near it an illustration of a skinny Buddha. The sole caretaker cum monk was brusque but not impolite. So this, we thought, is the place that’s creating a bit of modern history.

            When we relocated to Mumbai from Goa, this was one of the things friends had warned us of: Come 6th December and Shivaji Park turns into a sewer. It smells, there are people defecating and sleeping and throwing garbage all over the place. Everybody travels free, no tickets are bought for train or bus travel whether within or from outside the city. True, it was like that. Last year, we found a change. There were proper temporary toilets placed at marked locations. Food was distributed in an organised manner. There were taps for washing, shamianas to sleep under, and police and other officials all over the place. The residents grumbled, but after seeing how quickly the BMC workers cleaned up the garbage, hygiene did not become a major issue.

            This year, things were even better. The planning was precise. Considering that just there’d been major riots in Maharashtra, there was a fear that there could be incidents here, too. The police took no chance. The public was disciplined. There were regular queues, and the entrepreneurs amongst the locals and visitors had set up beauty ‘parlours’, eye camps, and of course, were selling caps, t-shirts, photos, pens, balloons, and more.

            About the disruption of traffic, the crowds, noise and garbage, all I can say is that it’s no different from what happens during/after Ganapati, Urs, the Bandra Fair or any political rally or exhibitions. At least this is for a known and fixed period of time. The others carry on for days, often unknown periods. Specially the political rallies. Why can’t another special park be made for this purpose somewhere at New Bombay, I wonder. In any case people are being transported by truck and rail. Then we can even let the garbage be, no point in tidying up when the very same day it’s going to be no different by nightfall.

 Goa still hasn’t seen the kind of crowds a single locality of Mumbai handles. We can’t boast of or predict the birth of a ‘leader’ that can draw such crowds. Perhaps we can and should accommodate and plan the death and funeral of a Big VIP. Then the hordes of visitors will be able to use the parks and malls our dear beloved MLAs have invested in. Who’ll rake in the moolah? The water tanker owners, the batatawada stalls…if private bus operators think they’ll join the gang, they’ve another think coming. If you can’t sell tickets and run a decent transport system when the going’s good, there’s going to be a big mess when the lakhs come in.

Farewell to tourism as we know (knew??) it, welcome to unwanted stuff. Farewell to planning (sigh, even my generation believed they knew what was good for us) and welcome to chaos and confusion. Unless every Goan wakes up and preserves its fauna and flora, this state is going to look like ‘December 6th’ quite soon.
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