There’s almost no home-cooked food, laundry doesn’t magically appear in your closet washed, ironed and folded; and there’s no pocket money. Occasionally, there’s even some harassment. Yet, all the single ladies vote for Mumbai as their favourite city,

A Mumbai state of mind

There’s almost no home-cooked food, laundry doesn’t magically appear in your closet washed, ironed and folded; and there’s no pocket money. Occasionally, there’s even some harassment. Yet, all the single ladies vote for Mumbai as their favourite city,

In the first episode of Girls, the American television show that won five nominations in this year’s Emmy Awards, the heroine Hannah is “cut off” by her parents. This means not relying on mum and dad for money and being financially independent as she tries to fulfil her dream of being an author in New York. Despite a lot of lows and a few highs, Hannah doesn’t leave New York even though it would be cheaper and more comfortable to live with her parents in their small town. Chances are, every single woman who has survived in a big city, whether in Brooklyn or Borivli, will be able to relate with Hannah’s predicament. There really isn’t that much that New York City and Mumbai have in common — the almost-Manhattan skyline visible from the Rajiv Gandhi Sealink notwithstanding — but in one aspect, they are sister cities. Much like New York, Mumbai is where almost 95% of India’s dreams lead. Particularly for women, if there’s a city that gleams with the hope of securing both financial independence and freedom from nagging social conservatism, Mumbai is it. New Delhi’s unsafe, Bangalore’s a little quiet, Chennai is dull, but Mumbai is the place to be. Madhuri, 34, an environmental law specialist moved to the city from Chennai. Three things Mumbai won her over: renting an apartment was comparatively easy, there were many options when it came to public transport which ply till late at night, and the pleasure of living with “busy people”. “I don’t think people realise how liberating it is to live in a city with so many people, all of whom are too busy living and worrying and working for their own lives to care about you,” says Madhuri. “Mumbai offered anonymity.” However, not everyone takes to the city as easily as Madhuri did. Payal, 21, moved to Mumbai four months ago. The Bangalore-native says that adjusting to the city has been “difficult”. “It’s hard being away from family. I didn’t realise how much there is to worry about when you live alone — there’s a lot to pay for, and not a lot of money to pay it with when you’re just starting out on your first job.” Given the exorbitant cost of living in Mumbai, the discomfort of long commutes and the fact that most jobs are demanding in terms of both hours and energy, living in this city doesn’t seem to make much pragmatic sense. Yet women (and men) make sacrifices and cheerfully agree to struggle, just to live in Mumbai. “A decision — to live alone — that makes no sense either financially or socially ultimately makes sense for a lot of women, because it is one of the ways unique to our generation to assert our independence,” explains Madhuri. “For many of our mothers and grandmothers, they went from their parents’ house to their husband’s house, always dependent on a patriarchal structure. Living alone is a rebellion of sorts.” As satisfying as it may be to have embarked on a mini feminist rebellion by choosing to live in a big city like Mumbai without family, sometimes home is a very tempting thought. “Every time I fall sick, my mother is like a broken record — ‘Beta, ab ghar aaja’,” says Aparna Roy, 22, who has been sharing a flat in Chembur with a colleague for two years. “The only time I was tempted was when I got really sick and had to go home to Kolkata for a few weeks. The thought of returning to Mumbai and having to do everything for myself was really depressing.” But Aparna did return. Like many people who come to the city from other parts of the country, she feels that the opportunities that Mumbai offers her are unmatched. “It’s not the financial and cultural capital for nothing,” she points out. However, after two years of living “almost comfortably” in Mumbai, Aparna is very clear that the city isn’t home. “It’s a place where you work. If I wanted a good lifestyle, then I’d live in a place where what I earn gets me more comfort,” says Aparna. Like most single women, Aparna shares a small flat with flatmates. Their walls have damp patches. The plumbing is bad. It’s not just that their living premises are so cramped, but that the city in general seems too inadequate for what’s being crammed into it. There are too many cars on the roads. There are no green spaces. Public transport is becoming increasingly unreliable. Most people who have lived in Mumbai for a few years, however, wryly admit that while there are serious civic issues plaguing the city, it retains a curious charm that makes residents proud Mumbaikars in no time. Meena Nath, 27, is hopeful about Mumbai, having seen its ups and downs over the past six years. “Everyone thinks this city will crumble upon itself,” she says. “No infrastructure, and there have been a few cases of women being harassed by landlords and molested. But we are still miles ahead of the rest of the country when it comes to taking in young working people. I think Mumbai is accommodating out of necessity, and will continue to be.