India’s first stay-at-home city

My friend’s mother says that she stays home these days because the streets outside and around her locality have been dug up for much of the past year. Representation pic/Ashish Raje

The 73-year-old mother of a friend recently told me that she no longer steps out every evening the way she has for much of her life. This may be unimportant for most people, but it isn't for senior citizens. She lives in the suburbs and has long grown accustomed to the idea of short walks to buy groceries, chat with neighbours, or stroll around the neighbourhood because that used to be a normal thing to do until recently. It is how I remember growing up too, back when the notion of hopping onto a bicycle and riding up to meet friends wouldn't sound like a stupid idea. Now, the thought is unimaginable, for parents as well as children. That city of my childhood has long ceased to exist, and teenagers on bicycles are as rare as Prime Ministers with real degrees.

My friend's mother says that she stays home these days because the streets outside and around her locality have been dug up for much of the past year. She doesn't feel safe and worries about falling because that is how dangerous it is. No one knows why the craters outside every building exist, when things will return to normal, or if they ever will. Months of questions from residents have resulted in press releases about the imminent completion of work, but no one familiar with how the BMC operates is confident that this will last beyond a couple of months. Ask anyone who lives in Bandra, for instance, and they will speak of roads paved in October and torn apart by the following March.

I am aware that the BMC and state government have long been inured to accusations of incompetence, so mentioning them one more time resolves nothing. It's why this constant feeling of déjà vu plays out across the city each year: an endless cycle of complaints about potholes, the spectre of waterlogging caused by blocked drains, and the same smug excuses trotted out by generations of bureaucrats who know their pensions are safe no matter what happens.

What the government routinely fails to acknowledge, while choosing to focus on YouTube content creators, is that its consistent inability to get things to work causes incalculable harm not just to businesses or local economies but to the lives of millions of ordinary folks. When nothing works the way it should, the domino effect is devastating even if it is never measured. If 73-year-olds can't shop for groceries, teenagers can't cycle for fun, and everyone else in between is stuck on the Western Express Highway on their way to or from work, one must ask if we are moving towards a future that doesn't encourage stepping outside.

If that sounds unduly pessimistic, and you feel the need to mention various infrastructure projects as a rebuttal, I'd like to point out that commuting in the city has never been this difficult, ever. Until a few years ago, it felt as if the minority lucky enough to have access to private vehicles were slightly better off, but that advantage has long been erased too. Look at the glum faces of drivers behind every wheel for proof.

The measure of a successful government, based on common sense, ought to be the quality of life offered in the cities they govern. Typically, around the world, this is evaluated by looking at things like the affordability of housing, access to healthcare, quality of education, overall safety, infrastructure related to transportation, quality of the environment, access to cultural amenities and activities, and economic stability. Together, it leads to a measure of overall citizen satisfaction. If we put aside the pompous announcements issued by ministers every other month, and rate these criteria with objectivity, the startling decline on every front is almost immediately obvious. That we continue to grin and bear it is a sign of despair and resignation based on what history has taught us.

Maybe it's for the best. Maybe I'm the one out of touch with the times, ranting about something that isn't as important for everyone else. Maybe like remote work, the notion of remote living will start to become a norm in Bombay. If no one can step outside, no one will notice the steady decline of a once great city. We can all stay in, watch shows about matchmaking on Netflix, rage against stand-up comics making inappropriate jokes, and applaud NRIs who become CEOs so we can keep putting up posts on LinkedIn about how Indians are the smartest.

When he isn't ranting about all things Mumbai, Lindsay Pereira can be almost sweet. He tweets @lindsaypereira

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