Sir PM is back from a week-long stay in Bandra, and had a rude shock with the civic disarray. He and Lady Flora discuss how this is representative of a city that’s in a permanent state of repair
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Why the scowl, Pheroze? You look exasperated. I thought taking a break in Bandra would be a nice escape from the SoBo humdrum…” Lady Flora enquired of her friend whose frustration could be spotted from a mile as he approached her near Rajabai Tower. There was a change in their meeting spot and route for their Sunday night stroll; this time, they felt like walking along the outline of the Oval Maidan to gaze at the stunningly lit contours of the Victorian-Gothic ensemble and stately Art Deco buildings.
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Yet, it couldn’t elevate Sir PM’s mood. “I didn’t realise things had changed so drastically in my favourite Bandra. Gone are the days when Siloo aunty and Keki uncle would take us for leisurely weekend trips to the palm-fringed suburb. Strolls by the seaside; walks down quiet streets where we would pass by quaint bungalows with porches from where friendly smiles would greet us; we could listen to the church bell ring before service, inviting the faithful for prayer; little bakeries served delicious goodies; we’d even be able to hear the odd birdcall in some of the by-lanes by Kane Road and by the Mount. All that, I am afraid, has changed—it’s become a crowded, dug-up nightmare,” sighed Sir PM. Such was this nostalgic rewind session that it managed to teleport Lady Flora to those wonder years. “Pheroze! That was such a delightful time capsule narration. And what has changed so much that it has scarred you to this extent where you’ve let your adrak-pudina chai get cold?” she enquired, ever the curious cat.
“Well, the aberration hits you as soon as you enter the suburb near that swish hospital. Some VIP…film star, I think, was being wheeled out, and a circus had begun outside. Camera flashes and passers-by thronged the footpath, whatever little that’s left of it, that is. I had to avoid that jamboree which took me a good half-an-hour to head to the Mount with cousin Sohrab. I always try to pay my respects there; you see, we Parsis have a long connection with the Basilica. You know about that famous true story where the Jeejebhoys built a causeway to connect Bandra and Mahim?” he enquired, keen to show off knowledge on this glorious episode of inter-community bonding. “Yes, of course, Pheroze. Now, please return to the present-day issues,” prodded a slightly irked Lady Flora, keen to stop further detours. “As we headed towards the Mount, there were other surprises, not the good ones. Vrooming motorcycles, groups of youngsters posing for photos from their camera phones right near the place of prayer; a total cacophony it was. But that is expected. Further, as we decided to soak in the Christmas revelry, we didn’t anticipate the harrowing condition of the roads—yellow and blue-coloured barricades greeted us. ‘Inconvenience is Regretted’ was painted on some of them. Ha! As if there is regret! I spotted several harassed Bandra (and other visiting) aunties dodging these half-dug-up roads, while trying to balance their many shopping bags and also avoid being run over by speeding autorickshaws on Hill Road and its by-lanes. Whenever we’d step out for a walk, we witnessed a manifestation of this in some corner of Bandra. It was sad to see how the suburb’s original charm has been corroded by continuous civic work, shrinking pavements and mindless redevelopment. And I’m told by Percy [the Pigeon, for the uninitiated] that this is a common sight everywhere. It’s just that things go terribly awry during festivals when it becomes an even bigger shopping haven.”
Lady Flora had some juicy nuggets from her reliable Bandra sources, “It’s bad enough that people from other parts throng the suburb for their annual Christmas shopping; this makes the traffic awful. It seems as if authorities look the other way; then, there are those who simply hang around Bandra this season.” The friends had reached the other end of the maidan, facing the Art Deco buildings. Pheroze exclaimed, “Look at these wide roads and well-maintained buildings. Bandra also boasted a similar character and quality of life. But cousin Sohrab feels that things are moving too fast, and not for the better. Its original character is shrinking, dare I say. My heart goes out to Bandraites.”
Then, Lady Flora said what is on every reader’s mind, “But Pheroze, if Bandra is at the epicentre of this civic mess, the other suburbs are equally bad or worse off. Bandra’s woes tend to get highlighted because it’s a popular go-to place. From my pedestal, I hear all kinds of issues that visitors are upset about; they live in far-flung suburbs with even less basic infrastructure, forget about footpaths and green open spaces. Infrastructure work is critical but a balance needs to be made. I hope the powers-that-be strategise to relook at these multiple disruptions in their zeal to announce a million projects to ‘improve’ it. At what and who’s cost? Look at the alarming AQI levels that have worsened our woes. It’s time to act soon to make it remotely livable, else we’ll have to rename our city the Maximum Dug-up City.”
mid-day’s Features Editor Fiona Fernandez relishes the city’s sights, sounds, smells and stones...wherever the ink and the inclination takes her. She tweets @bombayana
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