This makes my blood boil. Bombay has for ever been one of the safest cities in the world, especially for women. But two occurances like this last year and again this year, is just not acceptable.

A mob of 70-80 men groped and molested two young women for some 15 minutes on a busy main street in Mumbai’s glamour district Juhu early on New Year’s Day.

An identical incident had shamed India’s safest city exactly a year ago — a girl was molested by New Year’s eve revellers at the Gateway of India. That incident was captured on film by a popular Mumbai tabloid; Tuesday morning’s horror was shot by two Hindustan Times lensmen who happened to be on the spot.

The women — one in a black dress, the other in a jeans and top — emerged from the JW Marriott with two male friends around 1.45 am, and began walking towards Juhu beach close by.

A mob of about 40 got after them and began teasing the women. One of the women swore loudly at the hooligans.

But the mob, now 70-80 strong, wouldn’t let go. They trapped the women near a vehicle and a tree, and pounced on them. A man in a white shirt tore off the black dress. Another, in a blue shirt, led the assault. As the women fell on the ground, dozens of men jumped on them. [link]

The newspaper article goes on to say that the inspector rushed at the mob weilding his cane. For once I wish he had removed his gun and fired a few rounds.

No seriously, you may say….arZan…that’s barbaric. And I reply that yes what the mob did was barbaric, and for once should be dealt with in equal measure.

It’s the time of the year were partying is a must for each. People are busy drilling a hole in their pockets buying passes (or in a more sophisticated way should I say ‘invites’) to the hottest and the most happening parties in town. I never got it in the 25 years of my life, what is it with expensive parties and New Year celebrations. And probably I will never ever get it. Is it worth spending through your nose just to shake your hips and gulp some booze along with some Pg3 socialite aka some Saas Bahu / Reality Show celebrity who won’t even bother to know your name? I never really missed those chaotic New Year parties where inebriated strangers next to you brush their sweaty cheeks to yours after the darn count down. Is it the way you want the year to be. All booze and no money? Or would you prefer to spend the New Year eve with your love ones or that special one in your life. New Year has become an excuse for some to just blow up the hard earned work and an opportunity for some to make a quick buck by hosting such senseless parties.
Let me clarify that I am not an anti-party animal. Don’t get me wrong. I love partying and hell I like to do it a lot but among people I know. My friends on whom I can lean over when I am completely sloshed and am assure that I will be dropped home safe and sound. So this New Year party hard, party loud and party safe. Happy New Year.

You know what it’s like to wake up in the morning to a blaring alarm and you wonder what sort of perversion in the human mind permitted the invention of such a torturous experience? Till you remember that you set the alarm.

You know what it’s like to bounce out of bed in feigned energy in an attempt to ‘kickstart’ the day and start your yoga to muscles so stiff, they may as well wrap you in plasti-shield and hang you up to display in the butchers’ market?

You know what it’s like to run out of your bath and discover you are 5 minutes late? 5 minutes!! Do you know what 5 minutes look like? I’ll tell you….
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Do you see mud and sludge?

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One little corner in the newspaper tells of a tussle between women commuters and the Mumbai railway authorities. Apparently as a part of a new range of services on Mumbai’s Harbour line, the earlier timetable has been altered. The hitherto 9:14 a.m. Vashi-CST local was advanced by one minute. Not as big a deal…what’s in a minute? (Pah, ask a regular train commuter but we won’t get into that now). The big deal was that three rear compartments that were earlier reserved for women were scrapped.

The unforeseen response to this change was that the women commuters rallied together in protest. First they complained to the Central Railway authorities and then, receiving no response, acted in the most effective way possible. They just wouldn’t let the men get into the compartment.
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Wet weather, cold drops trickle down the back of my neck. And the roads are slippery.

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I came across an article in Rediff that critiques the new domestic airport at Santacruz. The Delhi based author raises some valid points but then goes completely overboard and mixes two completely different issues and tries to support one with the help of the other. I feel he has some axe to grind with the city and cannot find the proper forum to vent his frustrations.

This is the paragraph I find offending, and out of context

In its edgy, manic way, Mumbai prided itself on being the more organised of Indian cities, devoted to the work ethic, the go-getting glamour capital of the country. This is no longer true. It is now more ramshackle than Kolkata, more inefficient than Delhi and, probably, neither as rich nor as inventive as Bangalore or Hyderabad. Its cosmopolitan ethos and egalitarian energy has been hobbled by provincial-minded politicians, sectarian ideology and pick-pocket capitalism. Every monsoon the city shudders and shuts down and its inhabitants hope it won’t be as awful as last year.

And here is the actual article.

Technorati tags: santacruz, airport, mumbai, bombay, domestic airport, mumbai airport, bombay airport

For us Mumbaikars garden is a luxury. For example I live in a typical working class Maharastrian society, have the luxury of a small patch of public garden bang opposite my society. Although it is rare that I step inside the place, I do like to go and take a walk when it is all empty. Some times I like to sit there early mornings and just watch the world around me jump start their day. I love to feel the wet grass under my feet and enjoy the early morning fresh air. In short greenery is a luxury for us Mumbaikars with the construction jungle spring up on every patch of earth in the city. Some of us find alternatives by setting up miniature garden in side small earthen pots and set it up on the edge of the balcony. I am one of them. It is not exactly a jungle but I have an aloe, a fern, a show plant and a money plant which I had flicked it from my neighbor who stays in the ground floor. (They say it brings in money if one flicks the plant).
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While the whole city is stuck on the scumbag being released from prison on bail, our civil rights are being trampled upon.

In an effort to root out terrorism the city police is in the process of putting on key logging software on computers in internet cafés.

The Mumbai police will soon have khabris deployed (not physically) at over 500 cyber cafes in the city. A new software will allows cops to swoop down on terrorists the moment a keystroke is pressed at any cyber café across the city.

Investigations into the recent Hyderabad and Mumbai blasts have revealed that the planning was done using the Internet especially, chat rooms. [link]

Personally I think it is a breach of privacy of the individual user and frankly if the terrorist planners know that their communication is being recorded, they will use other means and methods of communication. But as a result of this draconian law, we will loose our right to privacy. Yes terrorism is a threat, but it cant come at the cost of our rights. If it does, then the terrorists have won, so you can pack up and go home !!

And what’s the gaurantee that the same police force wont leak out information of people visiting Orkut communities like this one and this one. Now when the Shiv Sena burns down a cybercafe, they will at least have proof that someone did logon to these communities.

Amit Varma, an ex-Mumbai Metblogger, has some tips for you to avoid being key logged if you ever need to use a cybercafe.

Oh yes, everybody, we love the Island City. Not for its glittery Page 3 crowd, not for Bollywood, not for the stock markets and business hubs. We love it because it is a city of survivors, it is the city with a never-say-die attitude. Well, why not? That’s the only way to survive the mayhem of Mumbai.

But on a suicidal occasion that one wants to remember the ways that Yamraj plays peek-a-boo with us here, one comes up against some rather bizarre options:
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