Karachi and Mumbai, the two most (over) populated cities of the two most populous countries of the subcontinent, are often referred to as ‘twins separated at birth’, which is by no means correct. True, both rose from fishing villages to become major seaports, but the circumstances of their origin were very different. The first was conquered by invaders (read the English), while the second, comprising seven islands was given as a dowry by the Portuguese to Charles II, the English king, when he wedded Catherine Braganza, the daughter of John IV of Portugal. Karachi, and for that matter, the entire province of Sindh became a part of the Bombay Presidency. However, in 1936 the new province was carved out. So much for history.

Karachi and Mumbai (Bombay was renamed, but Bollywood refused to become Mollywood) are both seaports and trade centres of their countries. Mumbai, unlike its northern counterpart is not a natural harbour, which means ships have to wait for high tide to enter the port. Berthing of ships in Karachi is not dependent on time or tide.

Over the decades, the seven islands have been joined to become one mainland. The original city, now called South Mumbai, is surrounded by the sea on three sides, which means that its growth has been vertical. It is not unusual to find 30-storeyed buildings there. In North Mumbai residential complexes are more than twice that height. Each of the localities in North Mumbai can be called satellite cities.

Karachi’s growth, on the other hand, was for the first four decades almost entirely horizontal. The concept of multi-storeyed buildings came in the 1980s when flats, rarely more than four-storey high, were built in newer areas. Like Mumbai, Karachi has its fair share of flyovers and underpasses (I don’t recall seeing an underpass in Mumbai) but it has the amazing Bandra-Worli bridge over the open sea in Central Mumbai. It has reduced travelling time from 30 minutes, during rush hours, to three minutes. To be fair, Karachi doesn’t need one. But what it needs is a sound public transport system.

The network of local electric trains in Mumbai is superb. It was built by the British and extended by the Indians. Mumbaikars (the new name for Bombay walas) depend heavily on these trains, not just for transportation but also for food because the dabbaywalas carry tiffin boxes from residences to work places. They are loaded and unloaded at different railway stations. The indigenously developed system, which functions flawlessly, has astounded even the brilliant professors of the Harvard Business School. But that would merit a separate piece to do any bit of justice to it.

In order to relieve congestion on road and railway tracks, monorail has been introduced successfully, initially on a short patch, early this month in North Mumbai. Metro, confined to Kolkata and Mumbai so far, will soon make its debut in Mumbai. Karachi, on the other hand, has a much limited and inefficient public transport system. The circular railway, which started in the ’60s, and ended with a whimper a couple of decades later, had its limited route. There have been talks of reviving the system, but there are so far no signs of the trains staging a comeback.

Agreed, the roads in Mumbai are heavily crowded with taxis and private cars, not to speak of motorbikes, but traffic violations are much fewer than those in Karachi. One rarely sees traffic cops. The system works on its own. Violators, when caught, are fined; some get tickets, while others resume their journey by greasing the palms of the cops.

In Karachi the traffic, as heavy as in Mumbai, is almost lawless. Changing lanes is a common sight and so are incidences of jumping the red traffic signals. There are fewer two-wheelers in Mumbai. One rarely sees motorcyclists without helmets. In Karachi it’s the other way round.

In Mumbai, one doesn’t see more than one pillion rider on a motorbike, but in Karachi, as in other cities of Pakistan, one finds an entire family precariously perched on a two-wheeler.

Karachi’s buses are gaudily decorated and carry passengers even on the roof. They stop anywhere and at any time, quite often in the middle of the road but the red-coloured Mumbai buses are disciplined. They halt only at designated bus stops and carry a certain number of passengers.

What disturbs me, as indeed it bothers other people with a soft corner for Mumbai, is the sordid sight of slums. There are narrow hutments with no bathrooms or toilets. The residents have to queue up at the loos built by the authorities. The kids can’t wait so they relieve themselves on the pavements.

In a 10 feet by 10 feet room with what goes for a kitchen in the corner, as many as eight people live. There is no privacy. What is surprising is that jhoparpatti, as the hutments are called in Mumbai, are to be seen even in posh localities. They brush their dirty shoulders with neat and tidy apartment complexes, and at times with the lavish houses of billionaires.

In Karachi, thanks to the foresight of the governments of the ’50s and ’60s, one saw self-contained quarters with two living rooms, a courtyard, a kitchen and a separate bathroom and a toilet cropped up in specially designated localities. Even the most humble abode in Karachi has a loo.

But what places Mumbai on a higher pedestal is the absence of VIP culture. I was pleasantly surprised to see that a Minister of Maharashtra was travelling in a car, which could hardly be called a limousine, and was followed by just one more car, just in case his vehicle broke down, he wouldn’t have to hail a taxi.

In a striking contrast, the ministers and advisors to the chief minister of Sindh commute in long motorcades with menacing men in uniform (sometimes in plain clothes). The traffic policemen have to give them a clear passage even in rush hours, much to the disruption of the traffic and annoyance of other commuters.

Karachi and Mumbai are both resilient cities. They have been victims of bomb blasts but they have bounced back. You hear a wide variety of languages in both the cities and the choice of cuisine in restaurants just as varied.

Distance wise, Mumbai is closer to Karachi than Lahore but sadly you have just one flight a week. That too is more than half empty, thanks to the stringent visa policies of the two governments.

A foodie like me cannot possibly end a comparison between the two megacities without mentioning that they offer a wide variety of culinary delights, both in vegetarian and non-vegetarian dishes, and both desi and pardesi.

An advice to a Pakistani visiting Mumbai in Ramazan: go to the Minara Masjid area at iftar, the goodies that you get there are more mouth-watering than anywhere in Pakistan. The place is swarmed by not just Muslims, but also by Hindus, Christians and Parsis, not to speak of the highly distinguishable turbaned Sikhs. What is more, the goodies are not pricey at all!

Opinion

Editorial

Judiciary’s SOS
Updated 28 Mar, 2024

Judiciary’s SOS

The ball is now in CJP Isa’s court, and he will feel pressure to take action.
Data protection
28 Mar, 2024

Data protection

WHAT do we want? Data protection laws. When do we want them? Immediately. Without delay, if we are to prevent ...
Selling humans
28 Mar, 2024

Selling humans

HUMAN traders feed off economic distress; they peddle promises of a better life to the impoverished who, mired in...
New terror wave
Updated 27 Mar, 2024

New terror wave

The time has come for decisive government action against militancy.
Development costs
27 Mar, 2024

Development costs

A HEFTY escalation of 30pc in the cost of ongoing federal development schemes is one of the many decisions where the...
Aitchison controversy
Updated 27 Mar, 2024

Aitchison controversy

It is hoped that higher authorities realise that politics and nepotism have no place in schools.