Unsung heroes

Returning to Mumbai after living abroad is a humbling experience.  This isn’t merely a city or even a large city; indeed, even the term megapolis doesn’t do Mumbai justice, such is the sheer scale of this urban behemoth.  Infrastructure (the physical kind) is one thing that Mumbai isn’t synonymous with (except for the lack of it), and anyone who has been here probably has their own war story about how they survived Mumbai.  But there’s nothing new about this, and still Mumbai continues to grow, and thrive.  As a friend of mine recently put it, Mumbai puts New York to shame when it comes to property prices; and another friend said he could buy a farm in Pennsylvania if he sold his spacious (by Mumbai standards that is) 1500 square feet, 3 bedroom apartment.  But what’s truly amazing about the city is just the sheer pace at which it operates (no, this doesn’t refer to the speed at which the city bus drivers go at).  But after being here for several months, and constantly asking the question “How the hell does this city manage to operate”, I think I’ve arrived at my own answer, which I think may surprise some.

Firstly, I must confess that I’m privileged elite by Mumbai standards.  I don’t travel by train, which is the lifeline of this city.  I have a driver, which while fairly common here, is still something not available to many.  My family and I live in a nice apartment complex, which even has a gym and a swimming pool (eat your heart out, Singaporeans).  And we have the usual array of domestic help (cook, cleaner, dhobi etc.) which would probably make my friends outside of India think that I was descended from a Maharaja, but which is considered as basic hygiene factors by Indian standards.  So living this elitist lifestyle, what is my bourgeoisie take on what makes Mumbai survive, and thrive?  The answer, IMHO, is—the simple Mumbai traffic constable.

For those who don’t know about how to drive in India—don’t worry; neither do most of the people who take to the roads every day. The reply to the question “Do you drive on the left or right hand side of the road?” is neither left nor right, it’s a simple “yes”, completely in sync with the Indian way of never saying no, and baffling the questioner such that no more difficult questions are forthcoming.  The Indian way of driving is the reason why the humble traffic constable is the key to making sure that Mumbai never experiences traffic gridlock, which by any measure of common sense is what should happen daily.

I’m amazed at the manner at which traffic cops in Mumbai ensure the smooth flow of traffic.   Having observed their modus operandi for a few months now, here’s my take on what makes them the real unsung heroes of this city.  Firstly, they are present at all key traffic spots at all key times.  While this may seem obvious, consider that this takes place irrespective of the weather.  Mumbai monsoons are not for the faint-hearted, and these gallant warriors brave them every single day, their yellow ponchos standing out clearly amidst the gloomy grey skies.  Secondly, they position themselves just after the traffic lights, so that they can easily catch the light-jumpers.  What I find really unique about this approach is that, unlike in many other countries, they don’t hide and suddenly spring up and say “Gotcha!”  Their intent is not to penalize, but to fore-warn.  If every driver in India drove by their natural urge (No Rules, Yes!), then traffic lights would be meaningless and everyone would just drive straight through them.  But having a clearly visible traffic constable standing there is akin to that of a father figure ready to inspect his kids’ homework—the sheer presence ensures compliance.  If there’s one thing that we Indians respect, its authority, and the traffic constable commands respect.  Thirdly, and this is something that I experienced first- hand, these guys are absolutely ingenious.  A traffic cop stopped me one day just after I crossed a signal (legitimately), and before I could protest my innocence, he opened the passenger door and got in the car.  “Sir”, he said politely, “you haven’t done anything wrong.  But there’s a truck that passed just before you, and the driver was not following rules.  Please can you drive me, and I’m sure we’ll catch him at the next traffic signal.”  And sure enough, that’s exactly what we did.  When he got out of the car, he didn’t say “Thank you”, but instead said the two words that every Mumbai traffic cop says every day, ad infinitum, in the hope that at least some people will listen and imbibe--“Drive safely”.