Is the Imphal city liveable?

By Ranjan Yumnam *

Photo Courtesy : Atom Samarendra

The only thing I like about Imphal is its weather. Other than its pleasant weather, there is nothing great or extraordinary about this city. My favourite city would be Delhi had it not been for its scorching heat. It is the political bastion of the country where the movers and shakers of India and Bharat rub shoulders—the suave sophisticated elites and the uncouth nouveau rich from the hinterlands. Delhi also occupies a special place in my heart because it is where I studied and worked for years. Compared to it, Imphal is a non-entity, a nondescript Lilliputian village.

On the same note, Imphal is like a God forsaken city. I can't find any compelling reason for it to be described as even remotely phenomenal. It doesn't even have a claim to 15-minute fame. Buddha was not born here. Dalai Lama doesn't live here. Osama bin Laden didn't hide in a cheap hotel in Imphal. It's not a coastal city endowed with sea beaches with foreign tourists clad in bikini enjoying sunbath.

It's not a business centre like Mumbai, or a regional hub like Guwahati. It's not a cultural city like Rome famous for its architecture and arts. Imphal is not Mecca. Neither is Imphal the Silicon Valley, nor is it Sicily ruled by Mafia dons. It is a Zero. It's a sleepy place punctuated by crude bomb blasts, which are orchestrated in the most cowardly and clumsy manner that smacks of amateurism.

My idea of a liveable city is very elementary. For a city to be tolerable, it should not be boring. It should have a thriving cultural scene and be stirring with activities that appeal to different tastes and types of people. If you ask me what I would want from a city on a weekend, I would say I would fancy visiting a restaurant that has a live band playing my favourite songs on request.

I would like to go to a decent theatre that screens the "Fast and Furious" movie. I wish to visit a lively art gallery where new and upcoming artistes showcase their works and interact with the patrons over high tea. I want to visit a library that stocks the latest titles of Paulo Coelho and poetry of W.H Auden. These and such many other simple pleasures of life which are taken for granted and deemed rudimentary elsewhere simply don't exist in Imphal.

Size of a city also matter. What I hate about Imphal is its lack of anonymity. If you sneeze, half the denizens of the city would know about it, and by corollary, if you are caught on the wrong side of a rumour, it will be hard to untangle from it. The city is so small and its density of population so modest, living in Imphal is like turning off your privacy settings of your Facebook account. Anything we blurted out off guard to an acquaintance will be a public knowledge tomorrow addled with some interesting twists and asides. Because of this dreadful prospect, you are forced to live like a monk or atleast start pretending to be one.

Imphal city in its present form looks hideous. It resembles a devastated site of war. The eviction of houses and businesses to widen roads has led to the "aesthetic breakdown" of the city. Even when she is not molested by such violence, the Imphal city is in need of a radical makeover. The Paona Bazar and the Thangal Bazar, arguably the Connaught Place of Manipur, are a living specimen of what markets should not look and feel like. The sheer congestion, lack of compliance to fire safety norms, the utter lack of style and proportion, absence of parking space, etc. has made going to these markets an ordeal, not a pleasurable experience to look forward to.

Forget the chaotic public spaces, look at the scene of private property in the residential zones. It totally baffles me why private residences of the affluent Imphalites look so drab and dull. There are so many big houses in Imphal with interior designing done exquisitely with the most expensive paints, furniture and trendy accessories. Inside they may look like a 5-star hotel, but from outside they look like deserted warehouse of rotten potatoes—grey and indistinguishable from the dust and grime that characterize much of the landscape of the city.

Why don't we paint the exterior of our houses with lively colours and transform the greyish outlook of the city to one of vivid youthfulness? If you can build a multi-storey building, I am sure you can also buy some decent weather paint to give your house a lustre. I seriously wish there was a law to make people paint the facade of their houses and be a little more happening.

Consider this irony. Though Imphal does not inspire a modicum of an impression of being a thriving city, it is sad that it is grappling with all the problems that a typical full-fledged city faces: traffic snarls, water clogging, pollution, high crime rate, power cuts, inflation and urban decadence, if not debauchery. Come to think of it: in terms of access to modern amenities, I suspect people living in Dharavi slums in Mumbai are more fortunate than the city slickers of Imphal!

What makes a city great then?

First, it should have a balanced mix of nature's greenery and manmade structures which are environment friendly.

Second, diversity is important for a city to imbue cosmopolitan values with a culture of tolerance.

Third, stability is another factor, but a mild feeling of looming danger is welcome to make your adrenaline gushing and make a city exciting.

Fourth, the city should be eccentric and eclectic; it should promise something for all sorts of people of varied taste and temperament. The yoga centre should have a piano school as its neigbour, for example. Healthcare should be easily accessible to different classes of clientele ranging from the fussy foreigners to the village yokels.

Fifth, there should be no dearth of recreation centres, which have doubly become necessary in the present times to wean the youths away from drugs and other undesirable activities induced by an epidemic called idleness.

Sixth, a great city should never sleep—a city that slumbers away during night is a dead city. I am not talking about late night discos or partying hotspots. It could be petrol pumps, ATM machines, airport, drugs store, etc. which can remain open 24X7.

Seventh, infrastructure and public utilities/services like good roads, uninterrupted power supply, drinking water, communication facilities, transportation etc. should not be missing in a city; devoid of these obvious necessities, can a place be called a city? (By this yardstick, is Imphal a city?).

Eighth, a city's citizenry should have civic sense and altruistic attitude, which can foster cleanliness and culture of discouraging crimes, theft and assault against women.

Tenth, traffic in a city should be managed smartly so that commuting to work is painless and smooth. There should be no two sets of rules for ordinary people and so called VIPs.

Sadly, Imphal does not meet many of these criteria and the verdict is that it is one of the worst cities without even the basic amenities of minimum standards. But Imphal, nonetheless is a great city, not because of what it doesn't have but because of the wonderful people inhabiting this strip of territory. Despite the depressing level of standards of living in Imphal, it is home to many brilliant people of outstanding talent who go on blazing trails and achieving recognition and accolades, not only in India but at the international stage.

Our players trained in the modest facilities of Imphal have vanquished opponents of much advanced countries. Our cultural exponents are being feted by the world in the sphere of theatre, drama and films—even winning prestigious national and international awards.

If Imphal is poor, dirty and decrepit, it also has taught its people the indomitable spirit of dreaming BIG and proving to the world that we can do it against all odds.

It is that spirit of Imphal—of never giving up against insurmountable handicaps—which I salute. Our umbilical cord is irrevocably tied to Imphal, and we can never sever it. Whatever Imphal is—a pathetic city with all its shortcomings—this place is our own.

So what? Imphal may not be liveable, but it's lovable. I am proud of this city!



(Views expressed are personal and do not represent official position)

Ranjan Yumnam

* Ranjan Yumnam, presently an MCS probationer, is a frequent contributor to e-pao.net. He can be contacted at ranjanyumnam(at)gmail(dot)com. This article was posted on May 22, 2011.