Human being is a happy creature. In spite of pressures on survival and defeats in the external world, the human nurtures hope and positive spirit inside to help continue. The positive attitude presents itself as an inner happiness which gets expressed in facial expressions. Some faces are naturally bright, some can be brightened if we provoke them by an affectionate eye contact. Nodding head, acknowledgement and a smiling reaction are a part of remote interaction among strangers. Regular people do not charge each other but share eye contact on occasion. Looks can have a stimulus if there is a reverse look. Looking at the face and the eye is not considered polite in some cases. Most people keep on moving forward without giving time to "look." Sometimes the person seeking attention could be a cheat or trying to distract than creating respect. In subways, airports, trains, buses and airplanes, exchange of looks is avoided. It is a new effect of urbanization where we assume that the neighbor is a different creature. We discover the common concerns when we start talking.
I descended to the platform for the south bound train. There was an electronic board with abbreviated messages. I needed help with decoding and had to look for help. I settled on a young teen age girl standing next to me who possibly had noticed my confusion and might have wondered. The bright young lady explained to me that "F" stood for "fast" and "S" for "slow". There was no chart indicating the stops of the "fast" train. She advised that I take the "slow" train to get to Mahalaxmi, my destination.
The young lady was a Muslim girl going to a special Muslim girls' High School inside the city. She did not carry any Islamic signature like people in the Arab countries do. Indian Muslims are local converts and they love their motherland. Occasionally some outsiders agitate them for political reasons, but they are as peaceful as other Indians are. The spirit of humanity trumps any other artificiality on the Indian soil.
Here I was on a subway ride in Mumbai after more than forty years, I loved it. The compartments had not changed, the crowd was similar except this time I could be older to most. Subway is a working man's transport, it moves people from the suburbs to the inner city. I found a seat and grounded myself for the hour's ride.
Four persons to my right near the window were busy in a card game. They had improvised a playing board. It was possibly an individual probability game purely on chance. They shouted occasionally. On the left there were a few teenagers who were busy with their mobile phones. Texting messages is a time killer these days. Some do puzzles or play computer games, each immersed in his or her own individual virtual world.
I saw some business people with goods and boards ride up. Subway saves time and money. But I did not see the people with white caps who carry lunch boxes downtown. The assembly of boxes in a heap itself is an architectural feat and to carry each to its desired destination is a marvel of human ingenuity. Interestingly, two male persons entered dressed in female attire. They had long hair and wore makeup. I had read about the transgender people in the newspaper. I was seeing them directly. People started paying them money. In some Indian tradition, seeing a transgender person is believed to bring luck!
I got down at Mahalaxmi. The next task was to take a taxi to Nehru Center. One has to cross the road to go in the opposite direction. Crossing the road is tricky. One could wait for the pedestrian sign at the intersection or follow the crowd that can block the traffic. This time it was the latter. I did get a taxi and managed to reach Nehru Center. It was a relief and an accomplishment!
I saw the wrongly worded preface again and ignored. My goal was to view the exhibit as a display model for the High School students. The exhibit was arranged in inter-connected rooms with attached side rooms that helped expand a theme. The story was told in two-dimensional panels which were enlarged prints of photographs mounted on plywood frames. Sometimes an impression of 3D was made by placing the mount separated from the wall. Occasionally the windows or water features were carved out to create a depth impression. Reduced lighting gave an impression of dignity.
The rooms were chronologically arranged. One moved from the cave age to the modern time. Indus civilization was presented. People migrations and the story of Aryans etc came next. The entry of "foreign" stock from west is a pure peculation. I would expect the new India would try to discover her own roots. The assumed "history" needed to be abandoned. As I proceeded inside, the grandeur of old Indian culture shone brighter. Mathematics, Astronomy, health sciences, music, dance, drama and literature came up. Language panels were arbitrary.
At the language area, a lady came up and met me introducing herself as a guide. I asked her if the exhibits get revised and updated over time. I wanted to know the names of resource persons at the Center. Apparently she herself did not like some of the entries and endorsed my view of recommending alterations. She brought in a "supervisor" who said that he only helps display what is produced. He gave me the name of a Manager in the next building.
I learned that the lady was demoted from her "guide" job to a "guard" position because she complained about the contents. Unlike the foreign corporations, the Indian bodies do not summarily reject people, a tradition from the British period. Political dissentors could be thrown in jail that continued in free India. The woman was a Social Studies teacher and took up the job in Nehru Center for better pay. But her intellectual freedom was curtailed and she was stuck. India does need good independent thinkers as teachers. Her point was that language Marathi had an older origin than 1000 AD as depicted in the panels. I agreed with her.
She went on walking with me telling other internal stories. This became a nuisance and I had to separate myself from her talking points. I briskly moved forward to other rooms in order to get away. I examined the final panels on the freedom struggle which were done well. The Indian freedom struggle is a miracle on its evolution and success. The grass root call for freedom was new in the world. People gave lives to police fire, but no war was waged. I was slow in comprehending the history of the last century. It was not an easy reflection.
Then it was time to get some lunch. I located the lady and thanked her. She pointed to me the directions to the road. I ignored the massive mustachioed guard in front large doors of the Corporate restaurant. I walked in the sun in my discovery mode. The road had a side alley and I walked there. People were eating under a tarpaulin roof. My adventure has to be restrained possible compromised to my health. Proceeding further I discovered the alley led to Islamic settlement inside. I saw a decent looking snack store, but it was empty. There was an Islamic eatery next door that I entered. A big white-robed bearded man was sitting at a desk and reading a newspaper. He did not greet me, I did not disturb him. I seated myself inside and a server presented himself with a glass of water. After briefly chatting, I requested "bread" and "vegetable". I wanted to watch people, possibly talk to any willing person. The "bread" was warmed up and the "vegetable" was recooked on high heat. I was happy with the gesture. I ate my food, only the server interacted. I asked if he could bring some lentils, called "dal" in India. Again it was redone on high heat before coming to me. I liked the cook's gesture.
I tipped the server and the cook well and left the eatery. The pots and pans could be cleaner. The Indian streets are less clean than at Bangkok.
