The following is an excerpt from my Yatra, dated 10 September 2013
Just came out of Dahravi, one of Asia's biggest slums. It's raining and we occasionally catch a glimpse of lightening.
If anything, the music only gets louder with the rain. Locals threw pink dust on us as a part of their Ganesh-related celebrations. I assumed that the poverty they lived in would have prevented them from such extravagant worship, or they would have been hand made or equivalent. There were tons of Ganesh idols. Some small, some large, all surrounded with ecstatic, shining faces that waved at us when we passed and said "hi!" I guess when you live on the basics, without needing anything more, faith is your extravagance. It is refreshing. Our guide mentioned they collect money from each house, and over one million residents adds up fast.
We tripped through Dharavi. Over children, limbs, uneven pavements, and the occasional dog. Outsiders describe it as poverty, but I feel simplicity is more fitting. Everyone seems much too contented to label themselves with words that have such negative connotation. None of them struck me as self-pitying. There were no beggars here.
That being said, the corruption of those who own the recycling industries is apparent. The most shocking was hearing of those who work in the aluminium garages, who melt down the materials and reshape them into blocks. The fumes they inhale make them ill, and where the owners generate a combined $65bn in re manufactured goods a year, the workers make as low as 200-300 rupees a day.
One asked if they rebel, only to be told that when they try, they fail.
I asked if the men who ran the companies were bad people. Our guide simply said, "their motive is to make profit." And left it at that.
Just came out of Dahravi, one of Asia's biggest slums. It's raining and we occasionally catch a glimpse of lightening.
If anything, the music only gets louder with the rain. Locals threw pink dust on us as a part of their Ganesh-related celebrations. I assumed that the poverty they lived in would have prevented them from such extravagant worship, or they would have been hand made or equivalent. There were tons of Ganesh idols. Some small, some large, all surrounded with ecstatic, shining faces that waved at us when we passed and said "hi!" I guess when you live on the basics, without needing anything more, faith is your extravagance. It is refreshing. Our guide mentioned they collect money from each house, and over one million residents adds up fast.
We tripped through Dharavi. Over children, limbs, uneven pavements, and the occasional dog. Outsiders describe it as poverty, but I feel simplicity is more fitting. Everyone seems much too contented to label themselves with words that have such negative connotation. None of them struck me as self-pitying. There were no beggars here.
That being said, the corruption of those who own the recycling industries is apparent. The most shocking was hearing of those who work in the aluminium garages, who melt down the materials and reshape them into blocks. The fumes they inhale make them ill, and where the owners generate a combined $65bn in re manufactured goods a year, the workers make as low as 200-300 rupees a day.
One asked if they rebel, only to be told that when they try, they fail.
I asked if the men who ran the companies were bad people. Our guide simply said, "their motive is to make profit." And left it at that.
No comments:
Post a Comment