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By:

Correspondent

23 August 2024 at 4:29:04 pm

Monsoon Malaise

The substantial showers over Maharashtra this year have predictably demonstrated that it is not the skies but the government that has failed the state. The intense downpour once again exposed the frailty of the infrastructure that the ruling establishment has been celebrating. From Mumbai’s paralysed roads to the shocking deaths in open manholes sans guardrails, to the collapse of transport links between Mumbai and Pune, the rains have held up an unforgiving mirror to official complacency....

Monsoon Malaise

The substantial showers over Maharashtra this year have predictably demonstrated that it is not the skies but the government that has failed the state. The intense downpour once again exposed the frailty of the infrastructure that the ruling establishment has been celebrating. From Mumbai’s paralysed roads to the shocking deaths in open manholes sans guardrails, to the collapse of transport links between Mumbai and Pune, the rains have held up an unforgiving mirror to official complacency. For a city that witnesses monsoons every year, Mumbai’s monsoon paralysis can scarcely be described as inevitable. Roads have disappeared beneath the floodwaters and commuters have been left stranded. These are not natural disasters but administrative failures. The Pune-Mumbai Expressway, the state’s most important transport corridor, was partially shut after a concrete pillar fell near the newly inaugurated Missing Link section. Opened barely two months ago, the 13-km engineering showcase was presented as a symbol of Maharashtra’s modern infrastructure ambitions. It promised shorter travel times and smoother connectivity through the Sahyadris. Instead, the first meaningful encounter with the monsoon has raised uncomfortable questions over the quality of execution. Was there a comprehensive structural assessment of the project before it was opened? Were engineers confident that it could withstand the very weather conditions for which such infrastructure is designed? These are not partisan questions to be merely asked by the Opposition, but matters of public safety. More worrying is the cascading effect of these failures. With the Missing Link closed, the old Mumbai-Pune highway disrupted and Tamhini Ghat also rendered unusable, connectivity between Maharashtra’s political and commercial capitals has been severely compromised. Legislators themselves reportedly face uncertainty over reaching Mumbai for the ongoing Assembly session. If the state’s elected representatives struggle to move across Maharashtra, one can only imagine the plight of ordinary citizens whose livelihoods depend on functioning roads, reliable transport and basic civic services. Infrastructure earns its reputation during crises, not during inaugurations. Roads are built for rainy days and bridges are meant to withstand storms. Drainage systems exist precisely because monsoons are neither rare nor unexpected. Maharashtra has not been surprised by an eclipse or an earthquake. It has been visited by the same seasonal rains that return with remarkable punctuality every year. Invoking climate change cannot become an alibi for poor planning, weak oversight and inadequate maintenance. Resilient infrastructure is the minimum standard that citizens deserve. The first weeks of the monsoon have delivered an unmistakable verdict. Maharashtra’s infrastructure has failed its annual examination. The government can no longer hide behind the clouds. Monsoons are annual appointments, not surprise inspections. If the state cannot prepare for the one disaster it knows is coming every year, it forfeits the right to claim competence.

Warriors of Night

Updated: Oct 22, 2024

We name our daughters Durga, Lakshmi and Saraswati; we worship the divine feminine power in the temples but oppress, repress and even attack the feminine power amidst us. That is the irony in the way India sees its women.

After the safety of the daylight fades, women are seen as easy prey by the predators of the night.

We mark the nine nights of Navratri, the festival of the goddess, by celebrating the dedication and valour of nine real-life women who brave the challenges of the night to pursue their dreams.


Part - 4


Never felt unsafe

The singer says there has been a generational change over the last two decades

Never felt unsafe

Work has no timings for Aisha Sayed. Sometimes, she begins her studio recording at 12 AM and finishes by 5 AM; at other times, concerts and live shows start at 9 AM and she’s done by midnight. In her field of work as a performer and singer, Sayed is used to not getting a night’s sleep and often returning home when most of the city is set to wake up. “I have been travelling at night but I have never, ever, felt unsafe in Mumbai,” says the singer-performer who began her career at the age of 13 years. Her father spotted her talent for music and took her to meet a sound engineer who was their neighbour in Bandra. The family helped her get opportunities and from there, her career began.

Being among the top contenders in Indian Idol, season 3, in 2007 catapulted her to fame and it opened up a world of new performance opportunities across the country. “I was just 20 years then and I was travelling the world, performing at the most lavish weddings, staying at the most luxurious hotels and performing at big corporate gigs,” she says. Safety, while on work, is has never been an issue for her for the organizers arrange a security detail for the performers. “They escort us until we reach the room. And since we travel with our team in a big group, there is always safety in numbers,” says Sayed, who sings in 10 languages. Her peers have faced instances of audience members being rowdy. “Once in Delhi, a group of drunk men followed my colleague to her room and kept banging on her door late into the night. But I have been fortunate,” she says.

Work assignments have taken to varied places, from the most luxurious international destinations to far-off venues in the hinterland of India where she’s travelled through dark, dense forested areas. “I have driven through areas where the only light is that of your car’s headlights. Turn around and you see pitch darkness,” says Sayed. She’s always got a little prayer on her lips when travelling through these remote areas for miles together. She recalls a show in Chattisgarh where she had to travel for nine hours at a stretch through remote and forested areas. “No place in our country is as safe as Mumbai,” she stresses. She would know, considering her extensive travels. She advises women to travel in groups while in places that are unfamiliar or unknown and never to venture out at night alone. “Keep your family informed of your whereabouts,” she says.

While her agreements state that proper security at all times, Sayed says that she drives her own car if she’s out at night for parties or personal work but insists that the people of Mumbai are largely helpful and cooperative. A rickshaw driver who once drove to home in the wee hours of the night, after a recording, waited at her gate until the watchman let her in. Friends and colleagues have dropped her home several times.

Mumbai, she feels, has changed—and it’s for the better, in the past two decades. “Earlier, on buses and trains, men would use the crowd as an excuse to touch women inappropriately. That has gone down. There is a generational change that I see,” says Sayed. She used to take the BEST buses and trains to her training classes and for recordings in the early days of her career.

Her timings are inconsistent and her shows take her to various cities and towns. But the Mumbai-bred girl emphasizes that her city is very safe for women, despite the various incidents of violence. “Mumbai is the only place where a woman can wear what she wants, wear bright red lipstick, leave her hair open and look glamorous and still be safe.”

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