17

Yesterday, my Bollywood-crazy, party-going,Marathi-speaking, sleeping-so-late-it’s-considered-early cousin sat back and called herself the ‘perfect Bombay girl’, the implication that I was, thus, not one hanging in the air. I bristled, as steam started rising from my ears. How DARE she claim this city as hers? How dare she even suggest that I don’t belong in a city that offers refuge to anyone willing to embrace it?

Bombay is a sorrier place if you label it and stamp your stereotypes upon it. The ‘dumb Bombay‘ stereotype or the ‘posh Bombay’ stereotype says nothing about the huge numbers (huge enough to form majorities in most other cities) which do not conform to these. In all honesty, I came to Bombay expecting people in these very moulds, only to find my dearest friends who are as much Mumbaikar as my Ganpati-adoring cousin. Sure, perhaps the average Bombay girl is represented by stereotypes, but were these the only ones ferrying food packets to stranded passengers during the floods? Are they the only ones travelling two hours on rickety trains across the city to earn their livelihood?

If the ‘Bombay girl’ were instead represented by the sense of humanity, empathy and tolerance, it would do more justics to this city that millions (many of whom choose to curl up at home with a book on New Year’s eve) call home.

Or perhaps, as my friend Anu said, make traveling by local trains the acid test for Mumbaikars. The numbers, as you’ll probably find out, will be more than those of the ‘perfect Bombay girl’.