Mid-Day Opinion: How safe are your children?

An uprooted peepal tree in Chembur rests atop the school bus after killing an 11-year-old boy sitting inside it on June 30. Pic/By Special Arrangement

This year began with a startling statistic that would have prompted outrage in any other city or country. According to figures cited by the state transport department, 1428 people lost their lives in 5508 road accidents across the Bombay metropolitan region between January and November 2025. This year's figures may be made public in six months and will probably be as high, but that won't matter. They will be ignored again, thanks to how casually we treat life and death in the world's fourth-largest economy.

I was compelled to look up that report because of what happened during the onset of the monsoon this year. There was the usual mayhem, which doesn't bear repetition given how familiar the story is, but what hurt was an incident involving a child. An 11-year-old died and four others were injured after a tree crashed onto a school bus in Chembur. It attracted a lot of publicity, as these tragedies are wont to do. The Mayor promptly ordered a detailed inquiry to find out if negligence was to blame, but anyone who has lived in Bombay for more than a couple of months will know how superfluous these probes are. In this city (or any Indian city for that matter), negligence is the norm rather than an exception when it comes to infrastructure. Everyone knows how little things will change, despite the many headlines and passionate calls for justice. In time, that child's completely avoidable death will be written off as an act of God, and we will move on.

I sometimes feel as if there must be something inherently masochistic about our nature, given how little we ask from the people we elect to power. Add to this the fact that for the past decade or so, we have been routinely bombarded by positive messages about governance across India. I can't comment on whether this praise is genuine or paid for, but I wonder how many of these enthusiastic supporters would let their children out unsupervised in any Indian metropolis. I use it as a benchmark: the idea that a safe city is arguably one where the most vulnerable can walk or play without fear.

If that sounds like an exaggeration to some, it's probably because they fail to acknowledge the sheer ineptitude that makes daily living harder than it should be. It's why commuting in Bombay takes longer than ever, why any trip outside is increasingly fraught with danger, and why any experience with public transport is harrowing no matter where you live or what time of day you choose to try it.

We have spent the past decade applauding India's stock market, while failing to notice how the poor, children, women, and senior citizens are struggling on every front. To point this out is to attract the accusation of being unpatriotic, which has only allowed this situation to go from bad to worse without consequences for anyone responsible. The parents of that child from Chembur will never get over their loss, but our ability to forgive and forget will condemn us to a future that places all vulnerable Indians at risk.

I often wonder who this city is for, given how much it has changed in my lifetime. It has never been for the poor, of course, but is it still habitable for the middle class if they can't trust their children to step out on their own the way my parents did while I was growing up? When I finished school, getting to college involved travelling from Malad to Marine Lines on my own at rush hour, which I can't imagine most parents being comfortable with today. It's not as if most adults feel safe either, but no one appears to do anything other than pray for the best because of how hopeless it all seems.

In June this year, the BMC urged residents of Bombay not to take shelter under trees during heavy rain after 113 tree and branch fall incidents were reported just a week after the monsoons set in. Nothing was said about the severing of roots, excessive concreting, or dumping of debris that experts routinely complain about. Nothing changes because we ask tough questions but rarely demand answers. So, here's another important question to keep in mind when that urge to applaud any politician creeps in: If your children have no parks to play in, no footpaths to walk on, and no guarantee of safety on their way to or from school, how safe is your city?

When he isn't ranting about all things Mumbai, Lindsay Pereira can be almost sweet. He can be contacted at www.lindsaypereira.com
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The views expressed in this column are the individual's and don't represent those of the paper.