A Tale Of Two Cities

ONCE upon a not-so-long-ago time when Mumbai was Bombay you could proudlyproclaim your allegiance to ‘Amchi Mumbai’. Now that the metropolis is known byits proper name, have you noticed the ‘Oh, poor you!’ look on people’sfaces the moment they hear your hangout is the city under siege? Mumbai is now known forcommunal riots (we showed them), bomb blasts (they showed us), assaults on journalists,abuses for artistes, dug cricket pitches, desecrated World Cup trophies, protests inchaddis in defense of morality. Thackeray and his tribe. In short, for Mumbaikars, theseare truly embarrassing times.

Is it really that bad? Well, unlike Delhi, we still shoot our models only with cameras.But for the rest, the good news is that it’s a bad scene, the bad news is that itkeeps getting worse. Dhichkyaon now is a familiar sound for Mumbaikars. Wedon’t take  criminals to the court s any more. In the last two years, the policehave gunned them down (‘ encounters’) at the rate of a-criminal-a-week— 100killed in less than 700 days. But let Pinki Virani tell you that Mumbai these daysproduces killers faster than the cops can kill. This proliferation means the underg roundis now fully overground, and thanks to cut-throat competition, clients are getting valuefor money— Rs 5,000 is all it takes to dhichkyaon.

Who’ll fight crime, communalism and corruption that continue to squeeze Mumbaiwhen a judicious mix of these very Cs has delivered Mumbai and Maharashtra into the lap ofthe ‘T’ company, headed by a ‘benevolent dictator’ who hatesdemocracy? Not Mumbai’s famous people, the ones who believe that they alone matter,for they are too busy partying when not promoting art. As Pinki Virani writes in her book OnceWas Bombay: "There ’s a very important inauguration this evening and peoplewho think they’re very important are spilling out of their cars this very minute. Theart gallery is the venue for an exhibition of a very potential political successor.Several invitations have gone out, phones have been busy, to attend, to not attend? Youcannot not attend if you’ve received an invitation with your name on it, they willnotice you were not there, and then, who knows what they will do. Why bekaar mein takepanga, if the successor feels happy that your presence as a famous personality addsweight to his exhibition, just go and smile for a while."

Avoid pangas with the powerful and see what it does to their libido. Ms Virani again:"Here’s a gangster; barely a gangster because he’s a politician. Theinvitation may have started as an adesh, now it’s the inner circle. Let’ssee now, today’s guests are among the legendary from the film industry; all male,goes without saying. Saheb is in his element, cracking the colourful jokes he’sbecome really good at, everyone guffaws. The gangster-politician shifts a little in hisseat, there’s a faint stirring in his groin. Drinks, laughter, derision,conversation. ‘Your wife is no less a tikhi mirchi. Chakhne ko dil chahtahai. Whenever I watch her old movies on TV I feel like tasting the tang of yourwife.’ Small, infinitesimally small, pause of silence; then laughter, the loudestfrom him whose wife is the chilli." What more could the film industry need to make asong and dance out of its predicament —Goli maar bheje mein, dhichkyaon, bhejaashor kart a hain, bhejey ki suneyga to maregaa kallu.

Once Was Bombay gives a damning dekho at the preoccupations of Mumbai’s famous andthe predicament of the beautiful lot. But Virani’s preface is a weak sermon from themount to the middle-class to save the city from the savages. The middle-class may havesaved the West for civilisation, as Ms Virani believes. But for ditto to happen in Mumbai,the preface will need lots more reworking.