For the past week or so, I’ve been in Chennai, the city where I grew up. It=
s been a mix of spending time with family and friends, relaxing, as well as=
exploring. For the first time in six years I’m actually living life in Che=
nnai, instead of making a hurried visit to the city.
Chennai, like almost anything in India is full of contrasts, and just one d=
ay here brings that out. Chennai traffic is a mess, with roads woefully ina=
dequate for the hundreds of new Hondas, Toyotas and Chevys that hit the cit=
y streets, fueled by the IT boom. The municpial corporation, never one for =
ingenuity and efficiency, a center of either lethargy or incompetance, cann=
ot be relied on to provide proper street lighting, clean roads, and other b=
asic amenities that would be expected in one of the fastest growing cities =
in the world, where residential real estate costs between $100-$200 a sq. f=
t. The traffic police continue to be incompetent as well as corrupt. The mu=
ch awaited Mass Transit System is about twenty years behind schedule. As a =
result of all these macro issues, and the fact that I don’t have an Indian =
Drivers license, and my mother doesn’t have a driver, drove me into borrowi=
ng our watchman’s (Security Guard for the American readers) bicyle to make =
my way around the city.
This afternoon, I headed out on to the roads on a bicyle whose brakes have =
a mind of their own, which most of the time resides in a different world, a=
nd refuses to cooperate, despite all my advances. This is especially discon=
certing when you have a bus rushing past you on the right, a mass of people=
at the bus stop rushing towards the bus from the left, and two motorbikes =
behind you that have a deathwish. Spending even a few minutes on the street=
s in India will provide you with an answer to why Hindus have many gods. Wi=
th so much chaos on the roads, you need several gods working full time to e=
nsure a safe journey. Anyway, thanks to the multiple prayers to multiple go=
ds that my mother performs each morning and evening, I made my way safely t=
hrough the chaotic main roads of Adyar and towards Taramani, which is the n=
ew town built in the past two years on what was essentially barren land. As=
soon as you cross a recently constructed bridge, its as if you have moved =
to a different country. Gone are the crowds, the dirt, the drime, the chaos=
.. Instead, if you make your way past the security guard, you are in a compl=
ex that could be anywhere in the world. The Ascendas IT Park is a glass and=
concrete structure that houses centers for several of Indian Infotech comp=
anies. When you walk through a lobby that’s more spacious and modern than m=
ost buildings in New York, you see a high-tech card access system standing =
between you and an elevator bank that would take you to offshoring offices =
where someone is writing bank software for Citibank, or someone is taking f=
lak from a lady in Ohio who found an error in her Amex card. In the lobby, =
you have a wonderful food court, and a gym whose membership is costing me m=
ore than my New York Health and Racquet Club fees! The shops in the complex=
cater completely to yuppiedom, with two coffee shops, a computer store, a =
“Dollar Store”, fancy gift store, and a couple of mobile phone shops.=20
Some people point to places like this and talk about the phenomenal change =
engulfing India and taking it into the ranks of the developed world. Sure, =
places like this are extremely comfortable, and feel very western, and have=
not only provided employment to hundreds, but also provided them with an o=
utlet to spend their money and enjoy life as well. And for a yuppieish pers=
on like me, having a western-style gym, and a starbucks-type coffee shop, p=
rovide me with some of my creature comforts in a place I would least expect=
to fnd them. Yet, it take me less than two minutes on my watchman’s ricket=
y bicycle without brakes, to go from this Disneyland into a muddy ditch tha=
t the corporation decided to leave unattended on a busy road, letting it fi=
ll up with rainwater. Another three minutes on the same cycle, after gettin=
g my face colored black by a polluting government bus, and nearly getting r=
un over by another, I find myself in front of a brand new residential apart=
ment building, with high walls, landscaped gardens, the works, which has, j=
ust outside it, a stinking garbage can that’s empty, but there’s garbage ly=
ing all around it. Yes, India is making its way to being developed, but eve=
n in its most tony regions, the basic tenets of development, namely cleanli=
ness and respect, seem like goals that are just not on the agenda. A comple=
x that provides everything within its compound, protecting itself from the =
world through high walls is easy, but providing those same standards outsid=
e those four walls is what’s required.
