A run-of-the-mill day at Godrej Baug, cooling off from the blustery heat wave, would typically involve an encounter with a beautiful peacock while strolling on the 1.5 kilometre walkway that slices through clusters of nearly 500 flats. This is all carefully stowed on the green, luscious Malabar Hill, away from the tumultuous discord of the city. A quick drive into the Baug later, and we begin to wrap our heads around the long, quiescent waiting list that budding residents are still on today.
To many, a ‘society’ is typically inert on many levels and only wakes up from its deep slumber when election times creep up. But, as we step into the Mistry home at the Baug, we are warmly ushered in by 11 beaming members of the board, who soon enough start to dispel the myths we have been nestling so long. “We aren’t a society given that we fall under the authority of the Bombay Parsi Punchayet,” explains President Farhad Hozdar, “And while that fact in itself limits the authority we have over the colony, it certainly does not take away from the responsibilities we have decided to undertake as an association.”
Think of them as the middlemen between the Punchayet and the municipal authorities, the much-needed go-betweens that get to the meat of the daily grievances of residents. From the mindless tittering and idle guffaws of whining neighbours you’d expect to legitimate security or parking issues that they face on a daily basis, the board does not denigrate the colony’s jeremiads, but it embodies them. Into the second year of their two-year term, the board explains that having a little over 10 people in charge of over 1,000 residents is a “full-time” job.
Tooting their own horns, you’d imagine? Sure, they sound like every other association or society that exists out there, don’t they? Not quite, if we had to go by Neville Velati’s enthusiastic mentions.
Every month is, in fact, sprinkled with a cultural programme or a religious event to bring the community together: “New Year’s Eve parties, dandiya programmes, our community dinner called the ‘gambhar’, the celebration of the fire temple, prize-giving ceremonies for the students that excel academically, sports days, flag-hoisting ceremonies twice a year…” he goes on, providing us with an exhaustive list of events that they attempt to keep up with.
Clearly, the 1,300-odd residents of the colony have no time to cross their legs and sit blasé. Couple that with the camps that the board has taken upon itself and you have yourself an entirely self-sustaining colony that lives up to its hype. From a nine-day AADHAAR-card camp where residents were able to register themselves without having to go through the endless lines of layered bureaucracy, to medical camps freckled throughout the year, the Baug is self-sufficing in a multi-lateral manner. Add to that the CCTV cameras totted up throughout the colony and the concessional medical insurance policy available to residents, and we successfully steer away from the inefficient jurisdictional fallacies of Mumbai societies that we have heard of since time immemorial.
Peppered with enough laughter and amusing ‘pratfall’ anecdotes, our self-imposed hiatus from the usual Sunday brunching proves to be a well-spent one in the company of Godrej Baug residents. “Make sure to join us at the cultural event on the 16th!” they cry out, before guiding us out of the Baug as we pass through its numerous security checkpoints.
