
Mumbai is deeply religious, making babus work harder for us. Thank God
Our great metro is religious. Whatever militant secularists say, faith is one of the greatest powers which galvanises our people into affirming movements that yield positive outcomes for the whole society. Much has been written about the many Muslim artisans whose contributions enrich Hindu festivals across India. That is perhaps the simplest, and the most romantic, aspect of our Indianness. And in times blasted with suspicion and terror, Mumbaikars, arguably, are privileged to enjoy the highest dose of that romanticism. Though Mumbai is often yanked heartlessly by bigots and opportunistic politicians, it still remains the only Indian city in which every citizen can feel the full intensity of the country’s diverse impulses, gifts, and cultures. In fact, Mumbai reminds me of the Rome evoked by the peerless classicist, Lionel Casson:
“The Roman man ate bread baked with wheat grown in North Africa or Egypt, and fish that had been caught and dried near Gibraltar. He cooked with North African oil in pots and pans of copper mined in Spain, ate off dishes fired in French kilns, drank wine from Spain or France.”
Ganesh Festival, one of the holiest periods in Mumbai’s calendar, is a celebration marked by wonderfully exuberant piety. The God honoured by the festival is revered across India as the force that sweeps away obstacles. In my Iyer culture, and indeed in most parts of south India, Lord Ganesha is invoked at the beginning of every endeavour, whether it is a household project or a grand entrepreneurial initiative. Many of you will know that already. The point I am trying to make is that the festival strengthens the cultural interconnectedness of our metro, and also makes the civic administration respond to the needs of the devout. At a very basic level, it gets down to repairing roads frequented by processions. Some have cynically observed that the administration is actually responding to the influence of the majority. I would argue that faith-based persuasion is stronger than any PIL. For example, in many parts of India, grandmothers discourage sweeping of floors after sunset, citing the irritation the activity causes to the Goddess of Wealth. Most wealth-worshipping young people listen to the exhortation without realising its origin. Back in the pre-electricity days, it was common for ear studs and thin gold necklaces to be cleared off among the trash.
At any rate, if festivals and religious observances afford some benefits to the city, people and lawmakers must draw up a plan to work together to leverage sentiments to facilitate common-good projects. For example, Gujarat has declared that from next year the Jain festival of Paryushan, one of the holiest observances for lakhs in the state, will also be marked as a week of wildlife welfare. It is a brilliant idea because all life forms are deeply revered by Jains, and that feeling can be harnessed into a society-wide exercise that spreads awareness about one of the most significant issues for our country.
Mumbai, like India, is deeply religious. Some out-of-the-box thinking can help turn that impulse into an energy that can wrest civic miracles.
raghu@dnaindia.net
