Civic authorities default on delivery; Indians seek an airconditioned world

Gruen Transfer is the phenomenon of going to a mall to buy something only to be lured into buying into something else, named after the man who designed the first of these new temples of consumer worship.

Indians routinely fall prey to this, which is possibly why these shopping arcades have now become the venue for the gamut of quotidian life, from shopping to eating to socialising to weddings in India.

Indeed, as Ewan Morrison’s recent book Tales from the Malldemonstrates, anything and everything can happen within the cool, sanitised precincts of a mall, so their utility as alternative universes is apparent.

In India there is another dimension to the malls’ relevance. As the weather is this country largely discourages open-air shopping, traffic is chaotic and petrol prices do not encourage wanderings, and water and electricity shortages are endemic, malls offer a welcome haven.

All amenities and indulgences are so well integrated under one roof, that these malls become the microcosm of an ideal world for beleaguered Indians.

Indeed, the more the civic authorities default on delivery, the more Indians scurry into malls to forget the glitch-ridden world outside, quite unlike the West where most of these arcades are losing their sheen. Malls still lack open spaces and natural flora and fauna but as they already have movie theatres, art galleries, museums and banks, it may not be long before a ‘total’ enclosed world becomes a reality.

Unfortunately, homes, playgrounds, places of work, educational institutions and government offices – the latter still very crucial in India – remain outside their remit, so Indians cannot totally sever their ties with the outside world, even if they wish to. But malls may yet find ways to bring them into their airconditioned embrace.