In a recent issue of The Economist, the London-based weekly reported that the IT ‘revolution’ in India impacts only 0.1% of the population, i.e., it is largely irrelevant. So, how has this revolution impacted India’s Silicon Valley that is Bengaluru?
For starters, the IT revolution has taken a tremendous toll on the numerous little shops, bungalows and trees that used to line the narrow streets of the city. The trees have been chopped down to make room for ever widening roadways and sidewalks while the shops and houses have been torn down and replaced by multi-storied apartment complexes and office buildings designed to serve the needs of the IT industry and its workers. An enormous increase in the number of vehicles on the city’s roadways has resulted in a severe degradation of air quality, snarled traffic and a huge increase in the time just getting to and from work. Most importantly, the huge wage disparity between IT workers and non-IT workers has led to a skewed housing market with ever-increasing rents and exorbitant costs associated with home ownership.
So, how and where do some of the poor people of Bengaluru earn a living? The shiny glass and concrete IT office buildings, the multi-star hotels and the US-style shopping centres that dot the city do not provide the answers we are looking for, but the sidewalks in front of them do.
A sidewalk serves a variety of purposes – you can park your car or motorcycle on it or use it as a roadway in case the traffic on the street is stalled, as a place to ply one’s trade or hawk just about anything one might want or need, as a handy place to dump garbage in case the open sewer running alongside is too full, or as a bathroom. When nature calls, caste and class distinctions do not matter. Nor do IT skills.
The stores and eateries on Mahatma Gandhi Road, Brigade Road and Church Street are where the NRI expats and the nouveau riche created by the booming IT industry congregate to spend a fortune on food, drink and clothing – items that can be had for a lot less in less affluent parts of town. The sidewalks on these roadways are also where you will find young men selling puffed rice and peanuts to not so young men who have just stepped out of a store which sells branded watches – Rolex, Tag Heuer and Longines.
The female cobbler sits on the Church Street sidewalk, cardboard box filled with different size heels in front of her. Now that high heels are in fashion, potholes and uneven sidewalks are ever present, and many IT workers are female, the cobbler has chosen a good place to set up shop. Next to the cobbler is the laundry man pressing clothes from 6 am to 6 pm using hot coals in his iron. He has a bag of charcoal, a small bucket of water and an ironing table which is a flat piece of wood mounted on three bicycle tires. His customers are the office workers in the shiny skyscrapers.
The man on the sidewalk who duplicates keys using a saw and a rasp, all kinds of keys in front of him. Even old-fashioned ones which look like they could open castle doors. Little does he know that metal keys are out, electronic key cards are in.
The sixty-year-old haggardly looking bicycle repairman sits on the sidewalk and patiently waits for his next customer. A bicycle pump, glue, patches of rubber, valve stems and a couple of screwdrivers lie in front of him. The bicycle society is virtually gone but he still waits. The motorcycle society will pass him by as well.
On the other side of town in Electronic City where a significant number of software companies are located, stands a rather portly man in his fifties, on the sidewalk of the main road. He seems to be a permanent fixture. He sells buns, butter and jam, each of which is in a separate stainless-steel container hung on the back of the bicycle parked next to him. I have never seen anyone buy anything from him. He is either an incurable optimist or he must be consuming his own wares to pass the time.
On many sidewalks, especially in Electronic City, there are segments of electrical cables sticking out of the cement. Some, I think, are hoping to make contact with loose wiring dangling from tree branches. A different kind of networking, Bengaluru style.