enigma
Par 100 posts (V.I.P)
Bombay is a city that I have lived in and loved. And yet, something about the jingoist calls to the spirit of the city makes my nerves crawl. Because I have also seen the worst of the city. Like when little kids are whisked from Bombay Central within minutes of entering the city, carried off to Kamathipura. Where the fringe is wider than the other. Of course the city has a certain brilliance and this wealth of opportunity. This peculiar vocabulary of selfishness that I relate to. It has a certain culture I grew up a lot in the city. I loved it.
Don’t get me wrong. I’m awed, choked up even, by the heroism. By the struggle against the odds. My heart breaks when I see the pain, the grief. But that’s human beings being the best that they can in the face of other human beings being complete evil bastards. It’s just the good in all of us showing through. Ain’t got nothing to do with the geography. If it did, there’s enough heroism to see on a day to day basis on your way to work. If it did come down to the city, why aren’t we crying everytime we see babies play in the muck besides the railway lines? Why aren’t we breaking down when we watch a legless human being drag himself from car to car at traffic signals asking for money?
Don’t get me wrong. I’m awed, choked up even, by the heroism. By the struggle against the odds. My heart breaks when I see the pain, the grief. But that’s human beings being the best that they can in the face of other human beings being complete evil bastards. It’s just the good in all of us showing through. Ain’t got nothing to do with the geography. If it did, there’s enough heroism to see on a day to day basis on your way to work. If it did come down to the city, why aren’t we crying everytime we see babies play in the muck besides the railway lines? Why aren’t we breaking down when we watch a legless human being drag himself from car to car at traffic signals asking for money?