Saturday, May 28, 2005
The best cities
| The best cities | | |
A look at the emerging non-metro cities to study, shop, party, be a culture vulture, start a business in... By Debashish Mukerji The real India is said to reside in its villages, but increasingly real Indians�the village dwellers�seem to want no part of it. They have been voting with their feet, moving in the thousands every day to towns and cities. Only 14 per cent of all Indians lived in urban areas in 1947; today twice that figure do so. When cyberspace met mobile craze: Chirag Patel "Of the �push� and �pull� factors which lead people to leave the village, the �pull� factors are much stronger," says Usha Raghupathy, professor at the National Institute for Urban Affairs in Delhi. "People migrate not only for employment, but also for the variety of opportunities cities offer." What are these attractions? Jobs, of course; many more than villages can ever provide. Nearly 60 per cent of India�s GDP is generated in urban areas. But there is much more on offer: numerous opportunities for personal growth, extensive exposure to new worlds and experiences and a plethora of recreational facilities undreamt of in the hinterland. For the less favoured castes, cities also provide an escape from suffocating caste restrictions. "The city offers anonymity," says Raghupathy. "Here few care where you come from or which caste you belong to. What matters is how well you do the job you are assigned." It is fashionable to run down urban India. Some of the brickbats may even be deserved�few will deny that Indian cities are overcrowded, polluted and dirty, unable to provide sufficient water, power and other basic amenities, and are teeming with slums, beggars, chaotic traffic and criminals. But this is because they are so attractive: so many people from outside are drawn to them that the infrastructure cannot cope. However, there is no doubt that the influx is no longer as huge as some prophets of urban doom predicted. The decadal population growth of urban India has fallen from the all-time high of 46 per cent between 1971 and 1981 to a much less worrying 35 per cent in the decade before 2001. Who are the people shifting base? Among them are the best and the brightest of rural India. It is a different kind of �brain drain�, which rarely draws notice. Says Mathur Savana, a Surat-based social worker who builds check dams in rural Saurashtra: "The biggest problem we face is the quality of human material. Every intelligent or enterprising villager below a certain age either has left for the city or is planning to do so." There are 5,161 towns in India�384 of them with a population of over 1 lakh and 35 of them with a population of over 10 lakh�qualifying for the label of �city�. It is the latter that The Week celebrates in this feature. But with a caveat. The six major metros�Mumbai, Delhi, Kolkata, Chennai, Bangalore and Hyderabad�have been left out of the reckoning, for the obvious reason that the few plaudits occasionally heaped on cities are nearly always cornered by these six. Tremendous changes have been occurring in a host of less known Indian cities and some of these secondary and wannabe cities have surpassed the achievements of the six metros in certain respects. It is these emerging cities we seek to highlight. Fifteen yardsticks (measures of the good life like education, business, growth, caregiving, shopping, politics, sports facilities, cleanliness, beaches, entertainment, health care, culture, historical relevance and safety) have been laid down, and the emerging Indian city which measures up best against each has been identified. (Puri with its wonderful beaches and Pondicherry with its tranquil charm were added after the survey was completed.) But the best need not be a unanimous choice. The ACNielsen survey has many people disagreeing with the editor�s choice. However, every city, for all its undesirable aspects, is a wellspring of hope for lakhs of people.
It�s in the genes It�s in the Gujarati�s genes," says Anil Bakeri. He is referring to business acumen. Bakeri threw away a secure job with the Bombay Municipal Corporation and came down to Ahmedabad in 1959 to start a construction firm with Rs 15,000 that he borrowed from his father. Today, he heads a Rs 50-crore company, a giant among Ahmedabad�s real estate developers. Satisfied with his lot: Anil Bakeri His son, Achal Bakeri, initially worked with him, but the family�s move to a new house in 1994 led him down a different career path. Achal wanted to install an air cooler in the new living room, but was appalled by the shoddy appearance of the ones on sale. Why couldn�t sleek, elegant air coolers be manufactured? Thus was born the range of Symphony air coolers, which today hold more than half the market share in the branded air cooler market.
"People here are very quick to identify new opportunities," says Rajiv Singh, director of Confederation of Indian Industry in Ahmedabad. "They can think up original ways of earning money and have the capacity to take risks." Agrees financial journalist Nilesh Mehta: "They are also born salesmen. Usually silent and docile, the average Ahmedabadi suddenly becomes very articulate when he has to sell something." It is an ability honed over centuries. "Gujarati entrepreneurship goes back more than 1,000 years," says Bakeri. Gujaratis famously financed both the Mughals and the Marathas who fought against them. Thus, unlike in other cities, secure employment is not highly prized here: it is only a period of marking time, or better still, a stepping stone. "The practice is to get a job, acquire some experience in a particular field, and then become an entrepreneur or trader in the same field," says Singh. "No Gujarati feels he has arrived unless he has established a successful business of his own." The bureaucracy in Ahmedabad is no more business friendly than in any other city, but the residents provide the necessary impetus. Capital can be raised even without visiting a bank. "I had no roots here, no friends when I first came," says Bakeri. "But people had faith in me and lent me money." Despite a major cooperative bank scam, a devastating earthquake and a horrific riot in the past few years, business is booming.
Keeping it pink It is not just the monuments. The throngs of visitors�nearly 1.6 crore between January and November last year�to Jaipur�s famous attractions have always been struck by the cleanliness and efficient handling of crowds. There is delightful gimmickry (the elephant rides up Amber Fort, for instance); there are knowledgeable tourist guides who cast a spell with their tales of bygone times; and there are excellent facilities for refreshments and relaxation. Other cities provide these too, you may say, but Jaipur�s uniqueness lies in the way it seeks to conserve and popularise not just the monuments but also the less known, day to day aspects of its past. Casting a spell: Hawa Mahal Not all of it is done by the government. The hugely successful Jaipur Virasat Festival, a 10-day-long annual event held for the third time this January, is a private effort. Some top national artists have performed here, but the real aim, says its key organiser John Singh, is "to showcase Rajasthan�s traditional skills in a manner acceptable today, so that their practitioners can obtain an income from them." Singh went from district to district collecting information on traditional music and crafts (an exhaustive directory will be published soon) and brought scores of unknown rural musicians to perform at the festival. "Hotel owners are now showing interest in some of these music groups," he says. "One group from Shekhawati was invited to Kolkata to perform at an elite Marwari wedding."
The monuments, too, are getting their share of attention. "I have never been so hopeful about the government�s attitude as I am now," says Dharmendar Kumar, co-convener of Indian National Trust for Art and Cultural Heritage. A significant portion of the Rs 500 crore Asian Development Bank loan received by the Rajasthan Urban Infrastructure Development Project was spent on restoring Jaipur�s prominent glories, especially its eight traditional gates. Top conservation architect, Minakshi Jain, has been commissioned to map the entire Amber Fort area for the first time and suggest better conservation methods. An �Adopt a Monument� scheme to draw private funds into conservation has also been initiated. "It is the first such attempt in the country," says Usha Punia, minister of state for tourism. True, much remains to be done. "There is no special legislation to protect ancient buildings in the old city, which are being pulled down every day," laments Singh. "A historic gate was demolished because trucks couldn�t go through." Like governments everywhere, the Rajasthan government, too, has blundered in the past, but it seems to be learning from its mistakes.
A special touch This otherwise nondescript town in the heart of Saurashtra houses the biggest NGO working among the disabled in the country. The Parsanben Narandas Ramji Shah (PNR) Society for Relief and Rehabilitation of the Disabled has over the past 35 years worked to rehabilitate and empower the disabled in every possible way. Confident strides: The physically disabled after visiting PNR Society Here, too, is located an extraordinary private company, Microsign, nearly half of whose employees are disabled in some way. The company supplies components to top level companies like Reliance, Telco, Volvo, ISRO and BHEL. "I get better productivity from my disabled employees than I do from my normal ones," says CEO Nisheeth Mehta. "I don�t believe I�m doing anything altruistic." Anantbhai Shah, the secretary and moving spirit behind the PNR Society, and Mehta are recipients of numerous awards. Yet they remain virtually unknown outside their immediate circles.
Then there�s Ankur, a school for the mentally challenged, where they are divided into three broad groups�play group, trainable group and educational group�and are taught skills (including vocational skills) for self-reliant living. Another smaller school caters for victims of cerebral palsy and autism, preparatory to their mainstreaming. The society�s artificial aids and limbs workshop, headed by Vijay Naik, not only manufactures the usual range of aids for the disabled, but has also obtained five patents for original inventions. Particularly renowned is an artificial foot called the Prabha foot: priced at an economical Rs 4,200, it is a vast improvement on the better known Jaipur foot, being much lighter and bending easily at the knee, enabling the user even to sit cross-legged on the floor! The society also runs a 125-bed hospital, set up in 2000, where the disabled�especially some categories of polio victims�who can be cured or bettered by surgery are treated. Reaching beyond its premises, the society sends out two teams daily to schools in the district to help children with viewing or hearing problems. Long before Pulse Polio, it had begun holding polio immunisation camps across western India. It also runs courses for teachers and caregivers on how to handle disabled children, and courses which equip midwives to handle pregnancies better and, thereby, reduce disabilities at birth.
Pupil�s pulpit About 36,000 students took the Symbiosis National Aptitude (SNAP) test last year for admission to one of the dozen institutes of Pune-based Symbiosis: only 650 will get in. At the Pune Institute of Computer Technology (PICT), the cut-off mark for aspiring entrants never falls below 98 per cent. "No other place in the country boasts such an array of top-level educational institutions," says Kumar Srinivasan, director of PICT�s postgraduate section. Top class: Students of PICT This is a city where the �M� in MIT stands for Marathwada, not Massachusetts, but the former institute is only a shade less prestigious. Home to seven universities�six of them �deemed universities��Pune has around 50 management institutes, 30 computer science institutes and 15 mass communications institutes. Most of them have sprung up in the last two decades. But there are also hoary old institutions which continue to maintain their standards of excellence: Ferguson College, Film and Television Institute of India, ILS Law College and Gokhale Institute for Politics and Economics.
The proliferation of institutes has been fuelled primarily by private enterprise. Leading industrialists, sugar cooperative barons and even Maharashtra politicians have jumped into the fray�like Padamrao Kadam�s Bharati Vidyapeeth or the Singhagarh Institute of Management. But the institutes they have set up, though undoubtedly a source of income and influence for them, maintain high standards. "Politicians have played a big role in education here, but a very different one from that of their counterparts in Uttar Pradesh or Bihar," says Srinivasan. Pune�s biggest success in education entrepreneurship, however, is Symbiosis, begun by an unknown botany professor of Ferguson College, S.B. Mujumdar, three decades ago. Its institutions today are a byword for academic excellence. What explains its rise? "We give full autonomy to our institution heads," says Vidya Yeravdekar, Mujumdar�s daughter and joint director. "We stay in close touch with industry and constantly update our syllabi to meet its needs." They charge the earth, too, but high costs are no impediment: students keep pouring in. "Pune�s campuses are peaceful, classes are regular, exams are held and results declared on time," says Triveni Mathur, a visiting professor at several institutes of mass communication. "For girls, the city is a haven of safety. Job opportunities are aplenty after passing out, both in Pune and nearby Mumbai. What more could a student ask for?" Wielders of power Born in a poor, rural family in Bhojpur district of Bihar, Lallan Kumar once drove a rickshaw on Patna�s streets for a living. He clawed his way to a tenuous middle class security by acquiring a college education financed by his earnings from driving the rickshaw. His knowledge of photography enabled him to join the Patna edition of The Times of India as a staff photographer in 1986. Recently, he quit his job to contest the Assembly elections as an independent candidate from Patna Central constituency. A contest he had no hope of winning. "I always wanted to be in active politics," says Kumar. "One has to make some sacrifices." Failure did not worry him. "I�ll somehow manage as a freelance photographer." Moulding his future: Lallan Kumar Patna eats, sleeps and dreams politics. Nearly everyone is an active or aspiring politician; the rest of them seek to influence politics from behind the scenes. Winning an election is the epitome of achievement. "Even middle class, office-going people in Patna are thoroughly politicised, unlike their counterparts in other cities," says Shaibal Gupta, member-secretary of Patna�s Asian Development Research Institute.
The reasons for politics being a way of life are many. "Widespread unemployment is one," says Hussain. "Those without jobs, or prospects of getting one, enter the business of politics since, at least initially, it requires no investment." Also, in Bihar, being political is essential for survival in other fields as well. "A university employee needs the protection of his caste association," says Hussain. "As these associations are into politics, the employee also gets involved." Bihar�s long history of mass participation in movements�the freedom movement, various peasant movements led by the socialists and the communists, the student movement led by Jayaprakash Narayan�has inevitably politicised the populace. "Patna is not a distinctive urban entity, but a glorified village," says Gupta. "Though it has no distinctive culture or political identity of its own, all the trends in the rest of the state are reflected here. Since Bihar is tremendously politicised, so is Patna." Can you keep up? All Indian cities are growing, but some are growing much more rapidly than others. Perhaps the fastest growing among them is Surat, in Gujarat, whose population�within just the municipal limits�rose from 15 lakh in the 1991 census to 24.33 lakh in the next one. Present estimates put it at 28 lakh. Add to this the 12 lakh people living outside the municipal limits�in the area administered by the Surat Urban Development Authority�and the figure rises to a whopping 40 lakh. The sky is the limit: Satyakam Joshi points to a high-rise building under construction (above left) A host of shopping malls and flyovers, three multiplexes, broad roads (that are rapidly shifting from tar to concrete), green traffic islands, landscaped gardens, expensive schools, an art gallery, a science centre and an aquarium have sprung up in the past five years. Property prices have doubled since 1999. "I can hardly recognise this as the place I grew up in," says Jayesh Brahmbhatt, senior reporter at the Divya Bhaskar, a local daily.
"Surat locals, who are reasonably well off, won�t work in the dyeing and printing units, since these involve long hours and miserable conditions," says Satyakam Joshi, professor at the Centre for Social Studies in Surat. "And diamond cutting is too specialised for them. Migrants are essential to sustain these industries." A host of middle class migrants have also arrived thanks to several public and private sector giants�NTPC, GAIL, IPCL, ONGC, Essar and Reliance�setting up major units at the Hazira complex 26 km away. "We are only 250 km from Mumbai," says Pachigar. "We have a disciplined work force, which rarely goes on strike. It is no surprise that companies are keen to invest here." Surat was the biggest port on the western coast till Mumbai rose. The East India Company established its first trading post in India here in 1600. "If only our port was developed again so that big ships could enter," wishes Brahmbhatt. "If only we had more trains starting from Surat and a proper airport, instead of just an airstrip. We could rival Mumbai in a few years." Party mania They first came in the 60s and 70s. Long-haired, blue-eyed Caucasians, the first children of the psychedelic revolution in search of an idyllic ambience. Some were on spiritual journeys, others were seeking physical and mental salvation, and still others just wanted a place to party. They found it on the beaches around Panaji, the creamy swathes of sand, sparkling waters and luscious coconut palms playing the perfect backdrop for parties that started at sunset and went on long after the sun had risen. Dance with me: Party hoppers Many sunrises later, the party still has not ended. And Goa, the tiny island state that remains remarkably unlike the rest of India, is the country�s best bet for a good party. The fun begins just a 15-minute drive from capital Panaji. At Bagga, you will find the famed Tito�s, once a tiny beach shack, now a robust dance club, where Indians and foreigners can be found dancing to the latest chartbusters.
For the true Goan party experience, there is nothing to match an open-air rave party on a beach that can go on for up to three days. But increased security has slowly diminished the city�s rave culture, and inveterate ravers and hippies now find themselves moving further down Panaji�s coastline, searching for virginal beaches still undiscovered by Bacardi and the police. A sliver of the old hippie lifestyle, though, can be experienced in Anjuna�s cafes and bars where it is not uncommon to bump into an ageing hippie who will wistfully recall the 70s (one even claimed Jim Morrison of The Doors was here) and lament the growing commercialisation of the state. Undoubtedly, the city�s personality has changed over the years; the large number of tourists raising the stakes of money and mirth. First is the changing demography of the foreign tourist�west Europeans now find themselves challenged in numbers by Israelis, Italians, Russians and Japanese. It is not uncommon to bump into liquor baron Vijay Mallya or actress Preity Zinta on a breezy, star-lit Christmas eve, and the large number of television crews permanently posted outside the places that matter only increase the city�s brand value in the global party circuit. That's spotless Surat�s transformation is reminiscent of fairy tales like The Frog Prince or The Ugly Duckling. The city that had earned international notoriety for filthiness in September 1994, when bubonic plague broke out, is today the cleanest in India. Spick and span: Streets are swept daily One man wrought this change: S.R. Rao, who took over as municipal commissioner of Surat in May 1995. Though Rao moved on in early 1997, his successors�S. Jagdeeshan, G.P. Mahapatra and G.R. Aloriya�proved just as dynamic. "Looking back, the plague was a blessing in disguise," says Rupin Pachigar, long-time Surat resident and BJP activist. "It made us realise the dreadful condition of our city. Our people cooperated fully with Rao, and Surat was reborn."
Less flamboyantly, Rao and his successors worked on garbage collection, which rose dramatically from 50 per cent of the daily garbage in 1994 to 97 per cent today. The gathering and transportation of garbage to two landfill pits, where it is now scientifically treated, was privatised, but municipal supervisors keep a close watch, imposing penalties on lax contractors. Garbage bins are everywhere: not using them invites fines, too. Streets are meticulously cleaned every night. In 1994, about 70 per cent of the city had no sewage disposal system; now over 90 per cent of it does. Ten years ago only half the city got pipe water; now almost the entire city does. Five new water treatment plants have been set up. Where did the funds come from? "Surat Municipal Corporation is one of the few cash-rich corporations in the country," says Pachigar. "The money was always there; only the will to use it effectively was lacking earlier." Pristine beauty It is a 12-km-long uninterrupted stretch of golden brown sand and shimmering blue sea. The beach at Puri, in Orissa, still possesses an unkempt, pristine beauty that its better known counterparts�Juhu (Mumbai), Calungute (Goa), Marina (Chennai) and Kovalam (Kerala)�have lost. There are few tourist-friendly amenities here: no deck chairs to lie on, no facilities for changing, no chic restaurants at the water�s edge. Lights at the beach were installed only six months ago. Conversely, there are large patches that are completely deserted; a visitor here can truly get away from the madding crowd. Mesmerising: Puri beach Some like it this way, some don�t. "This is the most peaceful of beaches I have visited in India," says Therry Petit, a Paris-based journalist holidaying with his companion Livozet. "The fishing village looks authentically Indian." Leif Nelvin from Gothenburg, Sweden, feels differently: "The sea is nice, but there�s no landscape. The authorities could have planted a few palm trees." He was also appalled by the poverty of the fishermen. "Orissa seems much more backward than many parts of India I have been to," he says.
The domestic tourist is far less fussy. Apart from the vast beach, there is also the renowned Jagannath temple to draw them. The total tourist traffic to Puri last year was 38 lakh. A growing trend is that of celebrating weddings in Puri. "Over the past decade, a good number of people have been coming here to get married on the beach," says Bijoy Das, president of the Hotel Association of Puri. "If only the entire town could be cleaned up, a lot more people would be attracted," says Ram Krishna Mohanty, a local scribe and lawyer. Adecade ago, Coimbatore was a paradise of textile mill owners and pump-set manufacturers, but now it is also home to sparkling malls and glistening plazas. Though, terrorism and riots have stalled the city�s development off and on, it has come out of it unscathed each time. And in the last 10 years the transformation has been rapid. On offer: Saris or gold, you get it all Its hotels, plazas and restaurants are always crowded and its retailers�who promise variety and quality at an affordable price�are attracting shoppers. Up-scale areas have come up on Cross-Cut Road in Gandhipuram, D.B. Road in R.S. Puram and on Avinashi Road. The city is renowned for its fresh fruits and vegetables. Capitalising on this, N. Natarajan set up Pazhamudir, a fruit and vegetable supermarket about 15 years ago. Today, he has outlets in Erode, Tirupur and Chennai. Pizza Hut came to the city two years ago. But Sandeep Jaiswal, general manager, says he finds it a challenge to sell pizzas because tastes are still conservative. Nevertheless, Coimbatoreans are experimenting. They are partying, dating, and just chilling out at the malls and plazas. The night-life is exuberant and as DJs Param and Channi say: "The city is rocking." To cater to the city�s new rich, exclusive gold jewellery and silk sari stores have come up. Chennai Silks and Kalyan Jewellers & Sarees operate high-profile showrooms alongside older ones like Shoba Textiles and Vandana. Shops emblazoning logos of popular brands are increasing in number. For tourists on the way to Ooty it is almost a ritual to take time off to explore the markets of Coimbatore. And it yields them a rich haul. Sporting choice No city in the country perhaps provides a richer sporting culture than Chandigarh; one reason students from all over the country vie for admissions to schools here. The D.A.V. School had 600 applicants for the 100 seats available last year. Play ball: Budding sports heroes The school�s alumni list includes Kapil Dev, Chetan Sharma, Ashok Malhotra and Dinesh Mongia. Its cricket coach Sukhinder Bawa was also the coach of Yuvraj Singh. The only criterion for admission is an aptitude for sports. The school has basketball, handball and volleyball courts, a football field, a state-of-the-art gym and a sauna.
It is the considerable presence of bureaucrats and armymen that has promoted sports in the city. "Armymen are fanatical about fitness," says sports journalist Balbir Singh. "Bureaucrats, too, are keen to see their children engage in sports." The city�s relatively small size helps in promoting the sporting culture. "Children can get from school to home to the playground in minutes," says Ravinder Talwar, principal of D.A.V. School. "It is much easier to combine studies and sports here than elsewhere." Yet, Chandigarh has not produced many top-level sportsmen and women in recent years. "Coaching methods have not kept up with the times," says Desh Prem Azad, Kapil Dev�s coach. Another reason, which none would officially admit, is rampant bureaucratic interference in team selections. "Top bureaucrats� children get selected, while more deserving ones do not," says a leading football coach. "Bureaucrats may have built Chandigarh�s sporting culture, but they are now busy destroying it."
The mention of Mysore conjures up images of Dussehra and the beautifully-lit palace. But the city has a much deeper connection to the arts and culture of Karnataka. It is home to great names in the field of literature and the performing arts. Ethnic enchantment: Rangayana artistes performing a play The city was named after Goddess Chamundi�s (the presiding deity of Chamundi Hills) triumph over demon Mahisha. Its monarchy traces its roots to the Vijayanagara empire, which may well go back to Kautilya�s Arthashastra days. The Mysore palace, completed in 1912, is a heritage site that showcases the art and architecture of yesteryear. The palace not only houses paintings and murals, but also sculptures from Europe and Japan. The golden throne is a main attraction.
Mysore has also produced many famous personalities like Sir M. Visveswaraya, Sir Mirza Ismail, Kuvempu, R.K. Narayan, R.K. Laxman, Raja Ramanna and Prof. C.D. Narasimhaiah. The Mysore University has been a centre of great intellectual fervour and has produced some of the greatest writers, poets and thinkers in the country. Narasimhaiah, who held a Rockefeller Fellowship at Princeton, USA, established Dhvanyaloka, inspired by his Princeton�s days. "I used to see Albert Einstein at the Institute of Advanced Studies each evening," said Narasimhaiah, who died recently. "I wondered why India cannot have such an institute to attract the best from all over the world." Dhvanyaloka houses a library, which is perhaps the best resources library on Commonwealth literature, and it supports research students for their M.Phil and Ph.D programmes. With rapid development, there seems to be a fear of the city losing its old charm. While some feel that the changes are for the better and that the city has a bright future as the cultural hub of Karnataka, not everyone is optimistic. There are others who feel that the city will lose its heritage value and develop into a market place.
Tranquil shores Legend has it that Pondicherry was born when God asked the lord of the seas for a piece of land where people could live peacefully, removed from the violence of the world. But the more romantic tale is about how the place gained its name: a shipwrecked Frenchman was rescued and cared for by a beautiful young woman. When he asked her name, she replied, "Pondi." At this, the man shouted with joy, "Ah, Pondi cherie (my darling Pondi)." Soothing: Sri Aurobindo Ashram The Union territory is famous for three things: its French influence, the Aurobindo Ashram and Auroville. The French settled in Pondicherry in 1674, and though the Dutch captured it in 1693, it reverted to the French in 1699. The English came next and captured it three times, but the French always recaptured it. France relinquished it only after signing the de facto transfer of French establishments to the Indian Union on October 21, 1954. What brought the Europeans to Pondicherry, which had no trade or commerce? It must have been the peace and quiet of a seaside township that still attract foreigners and travellers alike. Sage Agastya established his ashram here, Subramania Bharathi wrote his best poems here and Sri Aurobindo considered it the �cave of tapasya�. Aurobindo and Mirra Alfassa, later known as the Mother, started the ashram in 1926 to train others in his system of spirituality. The ashram is a mini township with around 1,800 spiritual seekers. Ten kilometres north of Pondicherry is Auroville (City of Dawn), an experimental township where people from around the world can live in harmony. The residents of Pondicherry are multi-racial, multi-cultural and multi-ethnic. The French legacy continues to be seen in the red kepis (caps) of the policemen, its houses, quaint signboards and statues of Joseph Francois Dupleix and Joan of Arc. With 32 km of coastline, the 480-sq. km Pondicherry depends on tourism. The seafront, with its long stretch of Goubert Avenue, is a no-traffic zone in the evenings so that tourists and locals can walk in peace, enjoying the breeze.
Paradigm shift Three decades ago, the city was a thriving textile centre. When the monsoons failed in the 70s and synthetic mills began giving stiff competition, cotton mills closed down. But the city�s proximity to the Nilgiris came to its rescue. It became a stopover point for tourists and trade thrived. Cutting-edge: World-class hospitals The medical fraternity soon seized the opportunity. Over the years, the city has witnessed the growth of many full-fledged health care centres. One of the oldest medical establishments, G. Kuppuswamy Naidu Memorial Hospital, set up in 1952, specialises in oncology, orthopaedic surgery and orthroscopy. "Around 40 per cent of our patients come from other states as our hospital has tie-ups with government and NGOs," says Dr (Col.) T.B. Ramakrishnan, medical superintendent. Cheaper treatment is another attraction. Says S. Veerasekharan, assistant manager, marketing, PSG Institute of Medical Sciences and Research and PSG Hospitals: "Our reception area functions as a patient care centre where free service is given up to consultation level." It is the only private sector medical college in Coimbatore.
Kovai Medical Centre and Hospital is the only centre in south India to practise a new technique called Guglielmi Detachable Coils (small steel coils placed inside blood vessels). It is recognised by the Tamil Nadu government for paediatric care, cardiology, intervention radiology and organ transplants. Established 15 years ago, the group now has two hospitals in Coimbatore, one in Perundurai and another in Erode. The hospital attracts patients from far flung areas like Orissa, West Bengal, Assam and Gujarat. At present, Coimbatore has 600 doctors registered with the Indian Medical Association (IMA). "But there may be more than 2,000 doctors in the city," says S. Ganesan, officer-in-charge, IMA. There are 125 registered hospitals and nursing homes registered with the IMA. Seven of these are in the corporate sector. No fear factor For Falguni Madan, 33, Kochi has been homebase for five years. Career options and marriage brought her here from Vadodara. Is it as safe as home? Yes, she says. "I travel a lot for my job," says Falguni. "Sometimes I have to stay out as late as 9 p.m. and drive home on my two-wheeler. So far I have not faced any problems." To her, the commercial hub of Kerala is much safer than metros like Delhi and Chennai. All by myself: Enjoying an evening out Falguni is not the lone �positive� voice; for many women across the state (whether they were born here or have relocated), Kochi is the ideal place to live. It has gone beyond its Smart City status (the state will tie up with Dubai Internet City to start an IT park) to become a Safe City. What makes this city tick? Many feel it is the people. Kochi is a mix of different cultures�from Gujarati businessmen to the Jewish community�and because it is a large port and a major naval base, it is far more accommodating and open to change.
The low crime rate could also be because most women do not venture out after 8 p.m. Even the police agree. "Kochi is safe because women prefer to stay at home after dusk," says K.E. Joy, assistant commissioner of traffic police. As sociologists would concede, Kerala is still to accept women on roads past dusk. Joy says Kochi does not have strong anti-social elements or a history of organised crime. "You would probably come across eve-teasers and pick-pockets, not gangs that attack women," he says. Veteran journalist Leela Menon disagrees. "I felt I was much safer in Delhi," she says. "Here the men are gutless and cowardly. For them, the female genitalia is the most attractive part of a woman." But then no city is free from eve-teasing; every place is as safe as you make it. | ||
Thursday, May 26, 2005
Here's why India will be an economic giant!
Tuesday, May 24, 2005
Sweeping Changes : outlookindia.com
India's administrative "steel frame" has long decayed into a decrepit rusty cage that, far from holding up and furthering the national enterprise, has become one of its greater impediments. A sightless political leadership has steadily undermined the integrity and independence of virtually all institutions of governance in the country, and then appointed many commissions to look into the causes of cumulative decline, corruption and ineptitude. The reports of these commissions are duly submitted (usually after several extensions of tenure) and then gather dust in some forgotten archive.
Fresh in politics, nearly two decades ago, Rajiv Gandhi had excoriated the collapse of governance across the country, speaking of the "brokers of power and influence" who had converted "a mass movement into a feudal oligarchy". He had also disclosed that just 15 paise of every rupee of the government's developmental expenditure actually reached its intended beneficiaries. He had promised a radical overhaul of the system, but he evidently and dramatically lost the battle to eradicate the "brokers". And since then, no one has even tried.
These "brokers" have orchestrated the collapse of the Constitutional system of checks and balances, creating enormous bottlenecks in a structure of increasingly centralised administration which exacts "rent" for the privilege of access and illegal gratification for every routine action that should, in fact, fall within the sphere of automatic compliance. Centralisation and the concentration of power in the state and national capital has entrenched the darbar system, making officers and politicians rush constantly to these places--or permanently camp there if possible--and undermining their performance in their own places of work, as well as their accountability to local authorities and the people. The net result has been the progressive dismantling of the cadre base of all parties, and the steady erosion of the quality of district administration in much of the country.
Successive "solutions" have often compounded the problem. Efforts to eliminate corruption in the 'lower ranks' have concentrated growing powers at the highest levels, and those who are meant to define policy are increasingly involved in the implementation and execution of day-to-day tasks of administration. The sheer number of decisions that require statutory endorsement of the Chief Minister in many of the states, or ministerial approval at the centre, would astound any student of public administration.
Needless to say, this centralisation of power enriches small coteries, and the astronomical sums that are spoken of-albeit in sometimes hushed voices-as the personal fortunes of members of families of various current or former Ministers and Chief Ministers reveal the real impact, and perhaps intent, of the various "reforms" the impose statutory requirements of "scrutiny" at the "highest level".
Another of our "great achievements" is our proclivity for new legislation. Wherever there is a problem, a new law is brought into force, and new institutions and bureaucracies are created to implement and enforce each such legislative extension. The sheer weight of laws that lie dead on our statute books is already overwhelming--we are still to clear the debris of a great deal of antiquated and obsolete colonial legislation, and the paraphernalia of implementation that goes with it. And even as evidence of our utter and comprehensive failure to implement and enforce the most basic laws mounts steadily, the numbers of laws and their supporting bureaucracies as well as their supporting armies of clerical and other staff, continue to swell.
The entire process of governance has, in fact, become an enormous drain on productive national resources. Union and State Budgets, over the years, have become a mockery of financial management.
No budget is ever adhered to, and even where such apparent adherence is secured, a closer scrutiny exposes enormous waste and irregularities. The reallocation or the arbitrary and contrived release of funds towards the end of the financial year is routine in almost all Government departments, and leads to gross inefficiency and a tremendous waste of public funds. This happens year after year after year and, despite repeated and devastating censure by the Comptroller and Auditor General, nobody has been able to stop it--if at all anyone has honestly tried to do so. K.P.S. Gill is Publisher, SAIR; President, Institute for Conflict Management. This article was first published in the Pioneer.
A great deal of hope was invested in the "opening up" of the economy, and the automatic "transparency" that this development would impose on government structures. Government interference has certainly been curtailed in a limited number of extremely narrow spheres, and divestment and the entry of the private sector-particularly in communications--has yielded some other significant benefits. Unfortunately, the fact remains that little of this relief has accrued to the common man who must still approach the bureaucrat and the minister as a humble petitioner through a maze of procedures that remain closely guarded secrets, revealed selectively and piecemeal, to those who can suitably "oil the machine" or secure privileged access on other grounds.
The slow crawl towards the globalised liberal economy has, consequently, brought a few minuscule areas into the circle of prosperity and, while these are very much in the eyes of the media and are projected as the great achievements of one government or another, their impact on the larger population is, at best, dubious. This, precisely, is why the "feel good factor" and the rise in share prices failed to return the National Democratic Alliance to victory in the last general elections, and the present disarray among the constituent parties of this political formation is evidence to the fact that they are still trying to reconcile themselves to the realities of their defeat.
It is abundantly clear that the system is failing, and that India could have moved forward much faster if we had a simpler administration and administrative guidelines, minimising procedures and making them utterly transparent and comprehensible to the people at large. In the few cases where this has been tried, the simplification and streamlining of processes, and often the dismantling of structures of governmental monitoring and supervision, once achieved, has never resulted in the oft-predicted doomsday scenarios of dissolution and anarchy.
The converse is, in fact, the case: it is the complications of the system, the terrible intricacy of our laws and procedures, and the Kafkaesque structure of overlapping departmental jurisdictions, which creates and sustains power brokers, fixers and wheeler-dealers. It is these elements, with their political and bureaucratic collaborators, who are the only ones with an unshakable interest in the preservation of this inefficient, corrupt and nationally disastrous system.
There have been many noble declarations of intent on administrative reforms by successive regimes, and the present government has also promised to "revamp" the administrative system. The growing disorders around us, and the shrinking of areas of efficient governance, certainly in the rural hinterland, but also in critical areas of metropolitan and national management, must convince us that it is now a survival imperative to bring to an end, the bureaucratic and political fraud that has undermined the nation and that is jeopardising our future.
Tinkering with the system at its peripheries--as is currently being attempted by the move to replace the Annual Confidential Report (ACR) system with a Performance Appraisal Report system--cannot even scratch the surface of the entrenched vested interests that have undermined governmental functioning in the country. The national leadership will have to find the political will, the courage and the administrative competence to sweep wide and to sweep clean; or it will, in turn, be swept away by the rising tide of popular disillusionment and discontent--as past regimes have been.
Saturday, May 14, 2005
MNCs touch the desi heart- The Times of India
Perhaps that's why Pizza Hut adopted the line "International brand, Indian heart". Realising the need to speak the local lingo, smart sellers have embarked on regional marketing to succeed.
While Domino's have created Chettinad Chicken toppings to suit the southern palate and McDonald's introduced McAloo Tikki burgers and dial-a-meal service, MTV is belting out Indian remixes 80 percent of the time, while Samsung is using cricketing icons to sell white goods to a cricket crazy nation.
"We are like that only," says adman Prahlad Kakkar. "That's because the Indian market defeats any kind of description. It changes every 100 km.
It's not a homogeneous country but has many smaller countries within." And you need to adapt yourself. "Given the diversity, any campaign that does not incorporate local flavours has very less chance of succeeding," says R Zutshi, deputy MD, Samsung India.
"It's an intriguing and difficult market as there are two distinct segments here — Bharat and India — and you have to market to both.
Also, there is a lot of Bharat in India, so it's not a one-cloth-fits-all case," says Vikramjit Roy, Sony Pictures Releasing India.
MTV was launched in 1996 with an international avatar, but had to come back with a complete revamp. "We needed the subsequent desi-fication (the invention and birth of desi-cool) in 1997 for us to connect with local audiences," says Vikram Raizada, VP, marketing, MTV Networks India.
When McDonald's introduced the vegetarian McAloo Tikki Burger, it was taking a calculated risk.
Keeping Indian tastes in mind, they even tampered with the traditional sauces. Vikram Bakshi, MD, McDonald's India says: "Keeping in mind the hectic lifestyle of the urban Indian, McDonald's also started the home delivery service here which has proved a big success.
As a concept, it's not followed by us internationally." The company has raked in a record Rs 2 crore from delivery sales alone.
Pizza Hut went a step ahead. "We created the all-Jain menu in Ahmedabad where no garlic, onion or mushrooms are used as toppings," says Pankaj Batra, director marketing, Yum! Restaurants International.
"Unlike in the West where pizzas are eaten more for convenience, here, eating out is seen as entertainment. That's why our servers do an impromptu song and dance while serving."
Coca Cola too has gone in for regional marketing. In Tamil Nadu, for instance, it sponsored Rajnikant's silver jubilee in films.
TV channels too are realising that mass-produced culture does not work always. No wonder, Cartoon Network and Nickelodeon have Hindi options now.
Anshuman Misra, MD, Turner International India, says their strategy includes showcasing locally-produced content like Ramayana, Pandavas, Tenali Raman, Chhota Birbal and signature events like Toon Cricket which combine the two most favourite things of Indian kids — cartoons and cricket.
Naturally, the change is part of a larger game plan — increasing volumes. "Sensitivity to other cultures is growing because of selfish reasons," says Kakkar.
"There's money to be made. The big cities are saturated and the small town guy is emerging as the real buyer."
After all nothing connects as well as culture.
A look at the emerging non-metro cities to study, shop, party, be a culture vulture, start a business in... 
After four years in the family business of edible oils and textiles, Chirag Patel wanted to do something different. "It occurred to me that there were numerous people who had email accounts but no computers of their own," he says. "They had to keep visiting cyber cafes to check their mail." Most of them, however, possessed cell phones. Thus Patel set up Net4Nuts, which has tied up with all the mobile company giants to provide email access to subscribers on their cell phones.
There is the Jaipur Heritage Walk, again a private initiative, which takes those interested for a round of the old city every Saturday, exposing them to Jaipur�s traditional occupations that are still being practised: metalwork, lac work, pottery, block printing. "We want people to know about these professions and encourage them, or else they will die out," says Vinod Joshi, who takes visitors around.
The PNR Society runs a school for hearing impaired children and another for visually impaired children, complete with hostels (for students from class 1 to class 10). It also provides specially designed computers and various techno devices which help the children learn faster. Only those children who are so severely affected that they cannot cope with mainstream schools are enrolled. Beyond the schools, the society also runs a full-fledged computer centre�with 280 students and 30 computers�where a variety of job-related skills are imparted. Its placement rate is 69 per cent!
The three lakh students of Pune�half of them from outside the state and several thousands from abroad�have altered its old, conservative ambience. The traditional Indian bias against manual labour has been swept away in this city as students of modest means finance their study by working as waiters, dishwashers or delivery boys, apart from manning call centres. Hostels have sprung up, paying-guest accommodation is plentiful, a host of pubs, discos, nightclubs and restaurants have opened in the past decade whose clientele is almost exclusively students. "In certain parts of the city, the local economy depends entirely on students," says ILS Law College student R. Shanker.
The Patna dweller is as familiar with the names of all the elected representatives of his state, their castes, performance records and the caste composition of these constituencies as people in other cities would be with Bollywood stars. "I�ve visited many universities in the country, but except Jawaharlal Nehru University, I�ve not found students anywhere as obsessed with politics as those in Patna University colleges," says Prof. Jabir Hussain, Rashtriya Janata Dal leader and chairman of the Bihar Vidhan Parishad.
Surat�s three traditional industries�diamond cutting, weaving and dyeing, and printing�are thriving and drawing migrants in large numbers. The five lakh diamond cutters (seven out of every 10 diamonds in the world are said to have been cut and polished in Surat) come mainly from the Saurashtra interior. The weavers at the city�s four lakh looms hail mostly from Andhra Pradesh; the workers in the dyeing and printing houses are largely from Orissa.
A 10-minute drive away, in Calungute, are ritzier clubs like the newly-opened Utopia, a mix of the sophisticated lounge bar and the messy, though no less riveting, beach shack experience. A short walk away is Copa Cabana, a club on a cliff and a regular pit-stop for celebrities used to urbane spaces where they can party in anonymity. Some, like fashion designer and socialite Malini Ramani, quick to sense Goa�s growing entertainment needs, have opened their own clubs, like Congo. There is also India�s only casino, located on a ship anchored out at sea.
What did Rao do? An incredible amount. There were the populist measures which made him a hero: surprise raids on restaurants that unearthed eatables overrun by rats and cockroaches; frequent visits to the slums where he explained the need for cleanliness to residents; demolitions of illegal structures, which saw roads widened and drains unclogged. Furious vested interests tried to stop him. On one occasion, during a demolition drive, the local MLA brandished a loaded revolver at Rao. Unruffled, Rao slapped the man and had him arrested. So popular was Rao that a voluntary group of citizens, calling itself the Rao Sena sprang up, assisting the demolitions and springing to Rao�s defence whenever he faced opposition.
The benign neglect has taken its toll on tourist arrivals from abroad�their numbers falling from a high of 40,000 annually in the mid 90s to 18,000 in 1999, and slowly rising to 29,000 last year. Even the peak figure is a small fraction of the numbers that beaches in Kerala or Goa attract. "Puri has a lot of potential, but we have not been able to exploit it properly," says Madhusudhan Padhi, tourism secretary. He insists, however, that there are remedial measures in the offing. "For the present, we are concentrating on two areas of primary importance�cleaning up the beach, and illuminating its entire length."

Other Chandigarh schools do not lag behind. This is because schools lacking a sufficiently large playground are not granted recognition, says Olympian Milkha Singh, former head of the Chandigarh sports department. Today, the city has abundant facilities for cricket, hockey, football, tennis and athletics. It also has a number of golf courses and a golf range.
Rangayana, Kalamandira and Kava are centres of the arts movement. Rangayana has a theatre company, a theatre training institute and a documentation and research division. It stages plays and has also partnered with Swedish agency SIDA to initiate Rangakishora for children. It aims to take theatre to government schools in the state. "The theatre movements have predominantly been centred on alternative theatre," said Chidambara Rao Jambe, director. "The Thirugata form [where performing groups go around various cities and towns] is also popular today, but the main problem is the onslaught of commercial forces like globalisation." He feels that people�s sensibilities are not being developed and there is little scope for serious theatre.

The stream of NRI patients in K.G. Hospitals is proof of the city�s growing appeal. "We were the first to have a ventilator and a dialysis machine," says Dr G. Bakthavathsalam, chairman, K.G. Hospitals, recipient of the Dr. B.C. Roy National Award and the Padma Shri. "We are moving towards an American formula in health care," he says. "In 10 years, medical cost will be paid by insurance, resulting in better deals for patients."
For many others it is the local influence. According to Celine Sunny, head of the research department for women�s studies and development at Rajagiri Institute for Social Sciences, Kochiites are not bogged down by middle-class sensibilities. "They believe they have moral responsibilities," she says. That would explain the low rate of day crimes against women (as compared to Delhi where a girl was kidnapped in broad daylight and raped in a moving vehicle).