Around three months ago, I was walking down a street in suburban Mumbai lined with stalls on either side, selling everything from watches to shoes to clothes.
As I made my way along the crowded road, I suddenly became aware of a wave of alarm travelling through the market. Nothing loud, mind you.
But within seconds, they had wound up their little shops, gathering all their wares and folding up their tables at a speed that you would normally associate with a US Delta Force commando breaking down an assault rifle during a training session.
For around one minute, the sidewalks were filled with vendors running with their wares slung over their shoulders, with the only stationary object being me, standing in the middle of the street, wondering what was going on.
Even as I took up the challenge of decoding the Mystery of the Fleeing Market, I saw it: a truck with several men obviously on a mission. And a painted sign on the vehicle proclaiming, “On BMC duty.” The mystery was solved.
Streetside vendors are one of the many classes of Mumbaikars that play hide-and-seek with the authorities on a daily basis. They have a tacit understanding with each other: the vendor who sees the illegal stall demolition squad approaching, will raise an alarm.
All that is needed is a short cry of “Arre aaya, aaya! (Here they come).” Nobody needs to ask, “Kaun aaya? (Who’s coming?)” As the word reaches the last stall of the row, the first stall will already have vanished. By the time the demolition squad alights from the truck, there will be nothing to demolish. The squad even makes a few half-hearted attempts to chase the last of the vendors, who easily give them the slip.
I have also seen motorists playing a similar game. Ever since the traffic police’s dreaded towing truck started prowling the streets, to look for illegally parked vehicles to tow away, Mumbaikars being Mumbaikars lost no time in establishing their own system to beat the system.
The scenario is particularly relevant for bikers. Every motorist making a trip to the market or any other place where parking is not available, now prefers to have a companion. Not that the companion has much interest in shopping. His purpose is solely to stand guard near the illegally parked vehicle. As soon as a towing truck approaches, he stations himself near the vehicle, refusing to move.
I have witnessed this scene several times and almost expected a couple of such sentries to challenge the tow truck to move over their bodies before touching a single part of the vehicle.
Like vendors, motorists also have their own early warning system. The coming of the tow truck is also heralded by alarmed cries, sending motorists scampering towards their vehicles.
And then there are the games with the octroi officials, who keep a watch at railway station exits to check for any goods being sneaked in by train, in order to evade duty.
Owners of small and medium shops in Thane and beyond, who have to make regular trips to south Mumbai for supplies, almost never use that dead giveaway — the duffel bag. Backpacks used by college students, are favourite tools of such camouflage. Several young men pack the goods in backpacks or knapsacks, split up and nonchalantly stroll past the octroi officials. For the world, they are innocent collegians on the way home.
Travelling ticket checkers are by far the hardest to evade, as a ticketless traveller on a moving train does not have the luxury of blending with the crowd, like at railway stations. However, I have witnessed two instances where ticketless travellers, who have been caught by ticket checkers, have jumped off moving trains as they slowed down, while approaching the next station, leaving the hapless ticket checkers fuming before turning to glare at the rest of their catch, daring them to try a similar stunt.
Someone once parodied William Shakespeare’s famous line and said, “All the world’s a playground…” Well for us Mumbaikars, all the city’s a playground, and play we will, and no matter how many times we are sought out, we will still keep hiding!