SLUMDOG TRILLIONAIRE

So. Two days in and this is my last night in Mumbai before I head down to Mysore and the school in the hills I will be working at,

So what has it been like? First off - everything they tell you about Mumbai is true. It is a massive, sprawling, chaotic, vibrant city. My introduction was at 6am via a madcap drive through the city to my hotel. We drove through the night past every kind of slum, braving the hooting lottery of the streets and buzzing past cows ambling through the streets. When I got to my hotel I panicked a little as it looked like a bomb had hit it (and the street around it). A typical Western reaction - but inside it was fine and everyone was very friendly. Rather beautifully, as I and the taxi driver were unsure if it was the right place, out of the night appeared a Muslim gentleman on a bike offering to help. He immediately put us straight. Really nice of him.

And this is the second cliche about Mumbai which is true - for all the poverty, people are happy - or at least upbeat - and incredibly kind. That evening I spent with two friends of friends in the Uk - Dr Pradhan and his wife. They took me to a terrific restaurant, to some theatre and then to a party afterwards. I felt completely confused about where I was in Mumbai and disorientated by the enormous difference between it and anywhere else I have been. It is indeed teeming with people, the streets are rough and often non-existent. The roads are heaving with eight lanes of traffic even when there are only three lanes in the road and always is the constant honking of horns (the surefire way of avoiding crashing as far as I can see). Dr Prahdan pointed out that the other reason no-one crashes is because everyone can only drive at 20mph so there is very little danger of a collision.

My evening with the Pradhans was terrific. Wonderful people. To my astonishment, within minutes of sitting down to dinner Richard Dawkins reared his ugly head (not literally, Dr Pradhan was reading him). I wondered what on earth the Penis-Headed One would mean to anyone in India. He told me he would probably be viewed 'with amusement', not because no-one would agree with him but because his ideas were very old. That was quite interesting.

Thanks must go to the Pradhans for making me feel at home and for suggesting how to get about. A naive Westerner, being faced with the enormity of Mumbai meant that I had not a clue where to go or how to get there. Mrs Pradhan explained that the beauty of Mumbai was not its sites (there were none, she pretty much said) but its people. For all the poverty, they were happy. And she is clearly right.

Nevertheless the poverty is a challenge to a Westerner and puts in perspective everything one thinks about the world and one's own society - indeed, everything one thinks about what life is all about. People had told me this would be the case but nothing quite prepares one for it. The serenity and beauty one finds in Indian spirituality - the Bagavad Gita, the Upanishads etc - is not to be found in Mumbai. Not surprisingly, really, as it is a massive metropolis full of hedonism and celebration of life. It is so vibrant and so hectic one doesn't quite know how to take it in. Interestingly, coinciding with my arrival was the Indian premiere of SLUMDOG MILLIONAIRE, which was generating a lot of controversy here in Mumbai where it is set. I haven't seen it yet (massive queues meant I couldn't see it when I was up in Manchester) but already the city is split between real enthusiasm that Indian actors and artists are up for Oscars and Mumbai is on the map again, and others who feel the film is 'poverty porn' and showing Indian society as 'a backyard'. As I say, the poverty here is real, but so is the lifeforce. I gave a child with mutilated arms my coke when he ran up to me and got a massive smile in return, for instance and on another occasion a one-armed guy came to beg at my taxi window. When I gestured that I couldn't give him anything he took a step away, then came back and gave me a big welcoming wave as if I was a friend he had only just recognised. Of course, I would rather that neither of these guys, or any of the other millions like them, have to beg or have had to suffer the loss of their limbs (appalling but it does happen as the film shows) and yet I cannot explain why or how they seem to exist in such a way and still not look miserable and depressed. Having written this I feel I may be in danger of sentimentalising the situation as so many people do. I should say that the poverty is real and it is very disturbing to see. The scale of it is huge and very hard to take in. Plus one feels very much like an intruder, aware that you will be able to get on a plane home at any time while these people will carry on as they are.

Also, I said that the serenity of Indian spirituality is not present In Mumbai. This also is not entirely true. Yesterday I found myself in a Jain Temple and there that serenity and beauty was present. Jainism sprang up about the same time as Buddhism and was founded by Mahavira, a holy man, rather like the Buddha, who reacted against the Caste System and sought a new form of Liberation. Jain Priests live lives of ascetic purity not unlike those lived by the Cathar Parfaits of the Middle Ages and seek Liberation for all humanity over successive lives. The prime ethos is 'non-violence' of either thought or deed and respect for every soul, human, animal and plant. Like Buddhism, there are no 'gods' as such, just the path of Liberation for the soul. Its a very simple, highly respected spirituality, viewed benignly by all the other religions of India, although it boasts far fewer followers than Hinduism or Islam.

The Temple was very beautiful, lush and ornate but not ostentatious. In the bustle of the street it still maintained its calm and spirituality. A ritual was clearly going on as bells were being rung in that haunting way one finds with the Eastern Religions. The Jains present were primarily women in colourful Saris. One, an old woman sitting by the entrance praying to the altar, struck me powerfully, the intensity yet calm of her spirituality being almost tangible. She reminded me of a similar woman I saw in Rumi's Lodge in the Turkish city of Konya. Very moving.

The interior of the Temple was vividly painted with altars everywhere. As I sat there taking it in I was reminded of the old adage - that no matter what religion you are part of, the actual spiritual experience, if it is pure and real, is the same. And if one looks at the altar, be it adorned with the Buddha, a Menorah, Christ or whoever, if one understands that it is representing something deep within yourself - ie Christ or Krishna are not WITHOUT you but expressions of something WITHIN you - then you are truly connected.

So that was my first big emotional/spiritual experience in India. Not bad for Day Two! Out of the chaos of Mumbai I saw something special form which reminded me of the validity of that side of ourselves. Where everything else seemed to militate against such aspirations in the sheer struggle to get by, this Temple reminded me of the focus and the dignity of the Spirit when it is properly understood. Take this away and the people here would have nothing. If there is a real value to true spirituality it is to restore your dignity and sense of self. It is proper humanism, mystical humanism, if you like...

The next day, Day Three, however, I was knackered and, mindful that to get anywhere in Mumbai would take four hours there and back, decided to take it easy and stay in the hotel. I don't regret it! I have to be up at 6 tomorrow to get my flight down to Bangalore. The people at the Childrens' Project have arranged to pick me up and bring me to Mysore and the school. So good of them! It will take me a while to get used to the rythmn of India. Thank you to them for helping me work this bit out!

Next installment when I can! More contradictions and surprises to come, no doub! Until then, bye, bye for now!