Where the streets have no name

I have often thought that the essence of a city is captured by walking on its roads. Or for that, even a country. Even a Martian walking on an Indian road, any Indian road, will easily guess that he is walking in the most populous part of the planet. There are people everywhere, and no place to walk on! I'm sure the oxygen levels of Indians show a marked rise when traveling in the first world.

Contrast this with Europe, which boasts of wide pavements and vast green stretches, but hardly any people! As you walk down the roads of Luxembourg, you often come across happy couples sharing a long kiss on the road – thankfully neighbor Germany hasn't doused the French passion. German roads will boast the stoic German who refuses to make eye contact, the enthusiastic cyclists and the oh-so-awesome cars zipping away at over 50 mph! In San Francisco, you see people from all nationalities – Indians, Paki's, SE Asians, Blacks, Scandinavians – everyone, so you know that this is truly a melting pot. I am sure the same would hold for New York, or Singapore.

I was in Chennai for a week, and my strongest memory of Tamland is the overpowering stench that hits you as you walk down the streets. And this wasn't any street mind you, but arguably the posh-est road of the city, which houses The Park and The Taj and numerous other upscale shops, restaurants and hotels. In fact, I was quite impressed with the great roads and the fancy neon hoardings as I was driven from the airport to my hotel. But when you walk down the wide roads, you see open drains, uncollected refuse and of course, the stink – everywhere.

Now take Bombay – probably the filthiest amongst the Indian metros (I haven't really stayed in Calcutta which I've heard is equally bad). But I remember walking down Churchgate station as a kid, and I was completely taken in by the focused Bombay wallah – everyone seemed to have a mission, a goal…perhaps he wasn't going to reach his destination just yet, but he was definitely going to make sure that he got there someday. That memory pretty much defines the image that I have carried of Bombay – the only go-getter city in India, with a true middle class which believes in working hard and partying equally hard (Where else would you find large lower middle class families out to enjoy a day at Esselworld for 10 dollars apiece, more than 15 years ago!). And over my several visits to Maximum City over the past two decades, this image has only got strengthened..

And finally, Delhi, my city of birth and youth. They say that a woman should walk on the pavement there with her arms folded in front of her chest and her elbows sticking out – so that she can elbow away the men trying to grab her boobs. Of course the problem with that is that the men will go for your bum instead – but well, it's a matter of optimization. And when you hear the lewd comments, you mostly pretend you don't understand Hindi and walk on, till you reach tipping point and muster up enough courage to turn around and slap the guy. Pity, given that Delhi probably boasts of the best roads in the country, and most roads actually have a pavement - even though the pedestrians still insist on walking in the middle of the road. Its all a matter of training, as Mark Twain would say.