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  Listen to me, I say!
Senior Assistant Editor Pankaj Upadhyaya is extremely passionate about his place of residence. If you find him offensively defensive in this piece, please put it down to that.

Let me make one thing clear at the outset: Navi Mumbai is not a suburb of Pune.

In sharp contrast to what some of my friends, esteemed colleagues and just about every resident of Andheri, Kandivli and Borivli thinks, this township of 1 million people is located at a convenient 55 km from Nariman Point, Bombay's central business district.

Now this may be a revelation to some, but Andheri is around 47 km from Nariman Point by road and Kandivli and Borivli over 50 km.

If any of you still haven't been able to make up your mind about whether Navi Mumbai is closer to Bombay or Pune, I have only two things to say:

1. Try not to fall asleep before crossing the Thane creek next time you undertake a journey to Pune.
2. Please hold that map right side up, thank you.

I am not a guy given to emotional outbursts. With a name as positively timid as mine and weight under 60 kg (with shoes on), I can't afford to get angry very often.

But frankly, I am quite tired of telling people that I do not carry to work two changes of clothes and my toothbrush. Nor does my wife see me off at the station every time I leave home.

Believe me, Navi Mumbai is NOT that far from your island.

I know there are people who won't get it. And it's getting worrisome now. The word that I am a Navi Mumbaiite is spreading in office. In a city where the first thing an HRD boss looks for in a candidate's bio-data -- after the expected salary, of course -- is his residential address, it is a dangerous development.

The other day, Mr Money, an extremely soft-spoken gentleman from the finance department, called to say that the reimbursement of my conveyance expenses would be made by cheque in future. No cash any more.

If you have lived in Bombay or anywhere nearby for long enough, you know that's a polite way of saying three things:

1. Mr Upadhyaya, please find yourself a cheaper mode of transport. Feel free to consult our in-house fitness instructor for a session on the Benefits of Walking.
2. Mr Upadhyaya, the company's HRD department would willingly assist you if you wish to look for a new job.
3. Mr Upadhyaya, are you sure you can't find an accommodation somewhere closer to the office -- say Andheri, Kandivli or Borivli?

Life has not been easy ever since I moved to Navi Mumbai from Borivli in 1995. I must admit that I felt a little out of place the first few days.

I was single then and was living with five other singles -- all males. To our dismay we found that on one vital criterion -- GIRLS -- that dictated just about everything we did at that point in our lives, Navi Mumbai scored pretty low.

But believe me, things have changed. Of course, I can't go into details, because I am no longer single and my wife has a habit of filing away everything I write. I get this spooky feeling that one day all of it is going to be produced in a court of law. So, let's talk about something less incriminating.

Local trains in my view are the main reason why Navi Mumbai has come to acquire such a bad name. Trains on the Harbour Line, which connects the town to its parent city, are slow, and that is to put it very, very charitably.

This dubious distinction of the Harbour Line was brought home to millions of cinema buffs in India and abroad by no less a celebrity than Aamir Khan, in that eminently forgettable action flick Ghulam. If you don't remember that scene in which Aamir Khan runs towards a rushing train at Sanpada station (that's where I am currently holed up), and then manages to jump off the track just in the nick of time, don't worry.

It was a pathetic attempt to run down Navi Mumbai's image and deserved to be ignored. I have seen women carrying a month's groceries do what Aamir did with much more grace day everyday -- and that with no assistance from Vikram Bhat or his camera crew.

But that is not the point. The point is that there are several advantages of travelling by the Harbour Line that haven't been explored in any detail by Bollywood (thank god for small mercies).

I mean, what about the choice of window seats Harbour Line trains offer during most part of the day in first-class compartments? I am sure some of my friends from Andheri, Kandivli and Borivli spend their weekends sitting by the window in their flats, because they know they won't get the opportunity for the next seven days.

On the trains that serve the western suburbs, including the three places mentioned above, you don't get a window seat at any time of the day in any class of compartment. Unless, of course, you board the train at Virar and have testosterone levels considerably higher than the three guys who reached the station before you to grab the same seat.

And this is a minor advantage when compared to the massive assistance Harbour trains offer people habituated to reaching office late. Though I would not count myself in that category, I do slip up once in a while.

No problem. I just walk in looking a little bedraggled (no extra effort in there) to my immediate boss and say:

"Sai, Harbour Line is down."

That is it. Not a word more, not one less. He never questions me. Never threatens me with pay-cuts. In fact, I am sure it never occurs to him that I am lying, because all the while he is thinking: "Thank God, I don't have to travel by Harbour Line. Buying that flat in Borivli sure was wise."

Now, if somebody tells him that the Western Line is down, and that somebody will usually be a resident of Andheri, Kandivli or Borivli, Sai springs into action from his chair like a true newsman, ready to take a breaking story head-on, and calls up his wife: "Darling, I will be late. Yes, I will be eating at the office."

He will then assign the best 18 city reporters to cover the calamity. He will also alert both the New Delhi and New York bureaux -- the former must get the reaction of the prime minister and the railway minister while the latter must keep an eye out to see if the the matter is raised at the UN.

Now, if this friend of mine from Andheri, Kandivli or Borivli made up this story about the Western Line trains, he would in trouble. Because, you see, Kofi Annan would certainly seek a confirmation from his own sources and call Sai back and tell him that his staffer lied to him and that everything was fine with the trains.

Another advantage of living in Navi Mumbai is its easy accessibility by road. Buses connect it to every conceivable address in Bombay. All you have to do is hop into one of the '500 series' and you are on your way.

But a word of caution. Never get into 524 (unlimited). This bus goes to Borivli and takes 16 hours to reach there. The last I heard, transport authorities were talking with some caterers to introduce free breakfast and lunch en route.

Not that I can understand why anybody in his right mind would want to go to Borivli from Navi Mumbai. The city of 21 century, as NM came to be known after it was realised that it was running behind schedule on its development plans, has everything a family man needs: parks, theatres, restaurants, play grounds... and one can get to any of these places without getting caught in a traffic jam.

So, dear Mr Mani, as you might have guessed, I have made up my mind. I am NOT moving to Andheri, Kandivli or Borivli. Kindly fix me an appointment with the in-house fitness instructor.

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