Shishir Joshi: Dear Mr Prithviraj Chavan, do you really care?

Dear Mr Chief Minister, I should have written to you a year back. The idea was to give you a brief about the state of affairs. Or, affairs of the state, since you would be (relatively) new here.

Mercifully, it is not too late. You remain as clueless and as far from reality as you were then. I wonder if you were at any point interested in handling this state. After all, you are Prithvi-raj (one who rules the world) pray then why would a tiny inconsequential state like Maharashtra, however ‘Maha’ it claims to be, interest you? I think it is high time you knew something about your state.

To begin with, a lesson in Mumbai’s geography and contours.
Mumbai is not 7km in radius, from Mantralaya to Varsha. You may live in Varsha, but, the real downpour happens in the rest of Mumbai. Central Mumbai for instance, once had mills which Mumbai was recognised for. Mills have made way for malls.

The little hope that public representatives had has been dashed. But then, people have given up expecting much from the elected representatives, many of whom have criminal records and share space with you. You do not have the courage to enquire why the most inconsequential of leaders manages to travel in the fanciest of cars the moment he gets elected.

And you must some day, drive into rest of Mumbai. Honestly, Mr CM, the city has has grown. Oblivious to you, some of your colleagues, hand-in-glove with builders, have redefined the phrase ‘Ab Dilli door nahin’, promising land to the hapless Mumbaikar in far-flung areas that are closer to Delhi than to Mantralaya.

When (and if) you do travel to the suburbs, don’t be shocked to see vehicles with just three wheels bobbing up and down. These are called auto-rickshaws, which go over crater-like potholes like jet planes go through air pockets. (A little word of advice: Instead of filling up potholes, your civic admin can simply join all potholes by breaking the edges. The road will get levelled. It is cheaper and faster. But, yes, there is lesser money to make.)

I invite you to a ‘sponsored’ auto ride. Of course, the first test will be if you manage to convince an autowallah to stop for a passenger. Nope, the cops are very unlikely to pay heed.

You need to look at the police machinery. Of the 33,000, some are busy investigating crimes. The rest are busy guarding VVIPs, political morchas, clearing traffic when your party’s president or the country’s President — also from your party — visits Mumbai. Some hide behind trees and jump onto the road, scaring unsuspecting drivers.
The locals trains are next. In some suburbs, after you get off the

train (or get thrown off), stop by a paani-puri wallah and gently bend down to look under the stall. Hello Mr CM, I didn’t ask you to look at the paani-puri wallah’s fingers pacifying his itchy lower half. What I want you to see is the ground below. These were called foot paths, meant for people to walk. (Some of these relics are visible in paintings of Old Mumbai and portions of Ballard Estate).

Your overzealous colleagues have made the foot paths disappear.
Net-net, Mr CM, you need to wake up. You need to smell the coffee. When you start smelling, you will realise that Mumbai smells like crap. Different suburbs, different smells. As I said at the beginning, this city deserves you. You deserve this city too. For someone who is now known across political circles as too good and too nice a guy, let me tell you, translated in Hindi, it is not a very charitable way to describe a person.

Dear CM, we have traffic and no roads. We have rainfall but no water and we are such a large city, but, your men have made it unaffordable for the average man to buy a place here. We have to make a living, but we have no life. We are proud to be Mumbaikars, Mr CM. But, we don’t really care about Mumbai. Somehow, we are like you. Same-same, but different. You claim to be there, but, do you also really care?

The writer is co-founder of Journalism Mentor, India’s first mentorship-based journalism programme