Why I would want to raise my daughter in Mumbai

You might assume from the headline that I am a proud Mumbaikar who looks down upon other cities, and always defends Maximum City in the Delhi versus Mumbai debate.

Actually, I hate Mumbai for one too many reasons. Exorbitant rents, abysmal infrastructure, lack of parks and playgrounds, overcrowded locals, Raj Thackeray’s hate speeches against north Indians and so much more makes it to the laundry list of what I do not like about this city.

But there one aspect of Mumbai redeems it. Even the quintessential Delhiite in me has grown to not only love, but also respect the city for its attitude towards women. People don’t judge a girl by the length of her skirt and a woman is not defined by her clothes. In Mumbai, a girl's choice of clothes doesn’t dictate her preferences for a mode of transport.

I can vouch for the fact that Delhi girls are more fashionable than their Mumbai counterparts and experiment with their clothes. I love the fact that they bravely confront the male gaze in every corner of Delhi, and never get bogged down by them.

But if they wanted to wear any outfit other than salwar-kameez or full-length jeans, even in broad daylight, they would not want to risk travelling in public transport.

On the other hand, in Mumbai, young women prefer to travel in the locals. They may choose not to take the buses run by BEST or the local trains for very many reasons, but most definitely not because a thousand prying eyes are waiting to harass them.

A few days ago, just as I was about to leave for work, my landlady rushed to our flat: “This is so shocking. How can people in Bangalore think of doing such things? How can so many in the public be mere spectators?” she said, struck by the impunity of the mob that molested women on a Bangalore street, as a crowd watched silently, on New Year's Eve.

I couldn't muster up a response because I was shattered. I could see bewilderment in her eyes. But my conscience told me that perhaps only a Mumbaikar could have such a reaction.

I wouldn't consider the outrage expressed by Bollywood celebrities as "shock" because they don’t live in the "real" India.

A male colleague, who is not part of the editorial team and was born and raised in Mumbai, seemed to have the same reaction as my landlady. Marriage brought me to Mumbai and I have been doing a midnight shift for the past five and a half years. Every day, I leave work past midnight in the office cab.

My house is 17 kilometres away from work; yet, I have never felt threatened, not once been followed by a car or bike during the late hours. I haven't ever worried about taking precautions like rolling up the windows of the car because of my “odd” timings.

I distinctly remember how a young female colleague, born and raised in the city, once told me that if a guy ever dared to touch a girl in a public space in Mumbai, and the girl created a ruckus, people would teach him a lesson for life. They don't just watch. They act.

I cannot vouch for all men, but most Mumbaikars respect women. They don’t see them like objects. There have been instances that call for serious concern about women’s safety.

Mumbai is not the ideal place to live, but I am proud about the way it treats women. If I were to have a daughter, I would like to raise her in Mumbai.