Xaviers, Part 2.

Shantaram and Dharavi

The second project we got at Xaviers was a bit more intense. We were again divided into groups and each group was given a problem statement from various slums in Mumbai. We had to justify the problem statement through research (which means interviewing people from the locality to align on the same problem), create a campaign to solve for that problem and then finally execute it. Our topic was - Research and Campaign Management on Open spaces in Dharavi to ensure cleanliness.

As some of you might know, Dharavi is the biggest slum in Asia and has a population of more than 1 million inhabitants. With Dharavi spread over 200 hectares (500 acres), it is also estimated to have a population density of 869,565 people per square mile and with a literacy rate of 69%, it is the most literate slum in India!

When I first went to Dharavi, to be frank, I was a bit disgusted. The lanes were stinking of gutters that were never covered, half of the household items of the residents blocked the already cramped up “galis”, the public toilets looked broken and terrible and the number of people living and moving around was just too much. You actually had to wait for one person to cross the lane because that’s the only available space. As a group, when we started interviewing the residents, we realised that the men left for work early morning, the women left even earlier than the men, the children were always available and the teenagers were busy “arranging for their poison”. Now this was going to be tough because none of our target audience was ever available and you cant really be in Dharavi post 7 pm (if you are still new to the place), because the place gets scarier by the night.

So, we were only left with children. These children ranged from 3 to 16 years and we decided they will be our target audience. They will help us not just identify the right issue but they will also work with us to execute the campaign for the next 2.5 months. We were crazy to really believe that because the first event we did to attract them was a puppet show and we were greeted with abuses and tomatoes and what not. We prepared way too much and we were pretty sure we were going to nail this, but the children here were different. And I guess we were just expecting “right things in the wrong way”. After the failure of the puppet show, I remember we spent hours sitting outside Dharavi cribbing about the situation we were in. We knew this was going to be our fate everyday and so we went, we got insulted, none of the things we tried worked and we got back home hopeless and aimless.

I was reading Shantaram by Gregory David Roberts at that time. If you haven’t read it, please do. This will be one of the most beautiful books you’ll ever come across. A true and a phenomenal story of David known as Shantaram (name given by people) who ran from the Australian prison and came to Bombay . He lived in Dharavi, opened a health clinic and later joined the Mafia. He had a hell of a journey in Bombay- he acted, learned Hindi and Marathi, went to the jail and wrote this novel thrice (after the guards in prison trashed the first two versions). Through his book, he ensured one thing and that was - Bombay becomes an eternal player in the literature of the world.

I was reading the section where he just got to Dharavi, opened his health clinic and treated it like home. And eventually this hell of a place and the people also took him as a part of their life. TREAT IT LIKE HOME. My first effective lesson I learnt from Shantaram. It’s crazy how a foreigner knows so much about your country, your people, your communities and you cannot help it but embrace it. Books have always done this to me. Luckily, I have always picked up books that relate so much with my journey at that point that it sometimes becomes impossible to know who’s playing what part. Is it me playing by the book or the book playing me?

And “treat it like home” is what we did. We actually started living in Dharavi. We religiously reached Dharavi every day at 8 am and just sat there to observe the place. We spoke to paan walas, to shopkeepers, to older men and women, to mothers, to men, to children. Initially we just focussed on understanding Dharavi and what it meant for all these people.

We re-started our work with children, did plays and wrote songs for them. Told them stories about various diseases that they were prone to and how could they change. We played games with them like snakes and ladders, and explained them that if the snake bit them, it was because they weren’t throwing garbage at the right place or were coming in direct contact with the gutters and in case they got the ladder- it was because they had helped their friends understand good outcomes of throwing garbage in the dust bin and so on. We met women and did sessions with them to make them understand how they could take care of their children better. We met men and suggested them how they could contribute their time in this campaign. We met shopkeepers and told them how essential it was to collect garbage and ensure that it was only thrown in the BMC vehicle available that was approximately 100 meters away from their shops.

And in no time, we had 200 children who sat with us everyday, sang songs about “kachra hatao”, made paintings and shouted slogans. The major issue was that because of the small lanes, the BMC vehicle for collecting garbage could not come inside. The residents hence had to walk atleast 200-400 meters to throw their garbage in the appointed vehicle. On the contrary, the dumping ground was just next to their lanes where they easily dropped their garbage. All we had to do was ensure that all these households drop their garbage in the vehicle and we appointed children to do that. We had to make this sustainable, so we divided these children into teams and gave them lanes they had to collect garbage from. We made shopkeepers the monitors and handed them a chart where they could allot points to the teams. But we didn’t know, if this would work.

One fine day, I decided to stay a bit late to see if the kids did what we expect them too. I waited for almost an hour and nothing happened. I decided to walk out feeling miserable, really not knowing what else could we do and just as I was walking towards the main road, I heard the “kachra anthem” that I wrote for the kids. I ran back to the lane and saw hundreds of children in a straight line, chanting the song. Each of them had a garbage bag they had collected on the way, they all walked towards the BMC vehicle and one by one dropped their bags. That I guess, was the first time I cried with happiness. I sat down near a shop from where I could have a clear vision of of we had accomplished. Later, we worked with local politicians and BMC to completely clean the dumping ground. We got NGOs who donated sports equipment and teenagers became volunteers to regulate the brand new playground.

A video for you of the last day of the project at Dharavi where we conducted a Mela. However, my journey with Dharavi did not end there. I keep visiting the place time to time and sponsored education for 5 children.

I fell in love with Dharavi inspite of all the poverty and health conditions, just like Shantaram. And it happened because this is a place that clearly defines Mumbai for me. Exploding population with dreams and struggles in each house. Every household we went to, every member we met- narrated such raw struggles about their survival in Mumbai. I can actually do a series of stories about the people we met.

Dharavi as a whole for me, is a two storey building and not everyone reaches to the top. The foundation supports the first floor and once you have build it, you aim for the second floor.

The ground floor which is the foundation, signifies the diversity. That my friend, is the most unique part of Dharavi. You can walk through any lane today and be surprised of all the different communities that live in harmony.

The first floor symbolises pure business or their way to survive (a bit lavishly with ACs and dish antennas) in this Mayanagri. Each of these households have men, women, even children working for something or the other. Name it and you shall see- from bangle making to furniture making to recycling to exporting leather to garments- its all there in those smallest lanes.

And the top most floor is for some selected people who personify power and become the politicians. Who reach the top and then dominate the place end-to-end and directing a population of more than a million people is no joke! That’s what is exciting about Dharavi, a slum that has so much to offer and so much to control.

One more similarity with Shantaram that I am proud of - was meeting the then Corporator of Dharavi who was actually a Mafia too! Let’s call him Mr. X (secrecy is important!). I met his PA first to raise some funds to ensure dust bins and cleaning of the dumping ground. His PA actually came with a blank cheque to me stating that his Boss loved our work. I was focussed on really meeting him because it was a major fantasy! After a lot of back and forth I met him post the last event. That meeting is quite censored, but just to give you a gist, I was taken in a fully tinted van to meet him with a “patta” on my eyes crossing atleast 50 lanes in Dharavi. Amongst other things, he asked me if i wanted to meet Bhai but to his surprise I did tell him I was only interested in SRK! I still get “Happy Diwali” messages from Mr. X and to be frank, I do feel butterflies in my stomach.

I wrote emails and love letters to Shantaram but never got a response because he gave up his public life in 2014 to spend time with his family. But through him, I made it a point to visit every place in Mumbai that he had mentioned in the book. His descriptions made me fall for Mumbai more. Just like his adda - Cafe Leopold, Mumbai gave me my adda where I lived through some mad stories, met some unique people and made some friends for life.

Quoting some of my favourite lines from Shantaram about Mumbai,

“Mumbai is the sweet, sweaty smell of hope, which is the opposite of hate; and it's the sour, stifled smell of greed, which is the opposite of love. It's the smell of Gods, demons, empires, and civilizations in resurrection and decay. Its the blue skin-smell of the sea, no matter where you are in the island city, and the blood metal smell of machines. It smells of the stir and sleep and the waste of sixty million animals, more than half of them humans and rats. It smells of heartbreak, and the struggle to live, and of the crucial failures and love that produces courage. It smells of ten thousand restaurants, five thousand temples, shrines, churches and mosques, and of hunderd bazaar devoted exclusively to perfume, spices, incense, and freshly cut flowers. That smell, above all things - is that what welcomes me and tells me that I have come home.

Then there were people. Assamese, Jats, and Punjabis; people from Rajasthan, Bengal, and Tamil Nadu; from Pushkar, Cochin, and Konark; warrior caste, Brahmin, and untouchable; Hindi, Muslim, Christian, Buddhist, Jain, Parsee, Animist; fair skin and dark, green eyes and golden brown and black; every different face and form of that extravagant variety, that incoparable beauty, India.”

PS: A special shout out to Xaviers for giving me and my friends a lifetime opportunity. Also a blooper for fun :D Everything was shot on our mobile phones hence the quality is a bit low.

Can’t wait to meet again next week with another set of crazy stories! Look forward to your love and responses.

Love,

Ankita