Update from Mumbai

By Mathew Maavak of Panoptic World

There are lots to write about Mumbai where I am right now, but I am not sure where to start. For one, let me try the putative English habit of alluding to the weather.

It's like a desert out here. Though there is a forest reserve just across the road, most of the trees have withered up, and thankfully no one is attributing it to global warming. There is enough heat generated by the dense concentration of humans, dwellings, roadside stalls, and cows in Navi (means "new" in Marathi) Mumbai alone to raise temperatures by a few degrees.

Mumbai will look like an urban slum anytime a foreigner lands here, and it takes time to appreciate its history, and that of India, and the complexity of governing 1.2 billion people.

One has to keep scratching beneath the surface to find that there is another surface to scratch here. It's no wonder Imperial Britain found this place irrepressible; even an Indian returning here would view this place with disdain - till he discovers that ancient route that brought him to this place in the first place. It is only in Mumbai that a Methodist treasury can be located inside a building clearly marked by the distinct Zoroastrian/Babylonian sculptured image of winged lion or something (I will send the pix later).

The entire west coast of India has been a refuge for immigrants from West Asia since time immemorial. When you factor in the climate, the environs, the harshness of life in these parts, you will get a glimpse into understanding the finely honed survival instincts of these motley babel. Speaking of Babel, believe it or not, I have yet to speak to anyone among my contact whose mother tongue is Hindi - the national language, though we employ that language as a language for wider communications. So, every Mumbai resident I know speak four to five languages, each having a different script. My Hindi naturally, is on the uptick:-)

Back to history. The Tatas, FYI, are Parsis (Zoroastrians) who settled here after facing persecution in Persia. Now, they are riding on Jaguars instead of winged lions, and another creature called the Land Rover.

At a stone's throw away is the famed David Sassoon library. Sassoon's clan were Iraqi Jews, and built the Kneset Eliyahu Synagogue another stone's throw away. Further East, they were once compradors engaged in Opium trade in Shanghai. I used to stay across that synagogue at Bennet House once, but alas my buddy's family had to sell off that landmark.

In between are numerous colonial-era building that look like they need new tenants, ten coats of paint, and a dozen renovators. Only here, can these buildings co-exist with the Bombay stock exchange, the "world trade centre," the Colaba Naval Club (officers Only, and I was a guest there, hah!). To add to the incongruity, there is a Parsi cistern right near these edifices, and I doubt if it contains any potable water. For that matter, any water at all.

Nothing about all this romantic, though the people of Bombay think exactly that way. The biggest slum in Asia is in a locale called Dharavi. Back in the 40s, when the Independence movement was reaching its crescendo, the children of Dharavi ironically welcomed the sight of British troops, and more so the food they tossed out from a train that commuted from one cantonment to another.

Now, Dharavi has been dubbed as the world's only billion dollar slum. It's on prime real estate, and the inhabitants engage in backyard industries, including export quality woodworking.

Now, for some personal notes. I have found people here to be generally helpful, in spite of Mumbai's "cold soul" and I have already contacted the soon-to-be-editor of major business magazine (it will take off later this year), and the chief editor of the largest IT publication in India.

I leave it in God's hands on what must transpire, as I think personal machinations should be left to on-the-spot decisions. I am in my heavenly Father's hands, and I am not accountable to human beings. His laws govern me, and that is sufficient. Heck, the 10 commandments are the building blocks of civilization.

There have been some downsides to my stay here. I volunteered to help YWAM's street kids twice a week, but though their office is just across, they are not interested. The savants around me came to one conclusion: that they are well-funded and want to keep things that way, at least away from a journalist. It is my contention that with increasing unemployment, there will be more "volunteer tourists" singing and praising God's name with full fervor and funding, and all the behavioral modifications needed to appear "holy."

No wonder it is said, "many are called but few are chosen." I called up YWAM, and other missions here several times to no avail, and it is an irony that my second cousin once headed the Union of Evangelical Students of India. I am glad I never chose that part though at least, he was born into great wealth, and wasn't doing it as a career option.

It is also an irony that where I live right now, there are kids who are suicidal and depressed, and yet the simple story of the shepherd seeking out the lost lamb is rarely reflected by those who call on his name. Bring in the Good Samaritans any day.

This visit has extinguished all vestigial, personal thoughts in volunteering for anything. If Joseph can be promoted from Pharaoh's prison, if Daniel can be saved in the den of lions, and if David can slay his Goliath, I swear my God can do the same. This piece of history runs through my veins - literally.

It is His work, not mine, and certainly not my "holiness" (I have none!)

Shalom

Matt