"M
mmm" may connote sensory bliss onall five counts, but ‘M’ can also be loaded with the subtext of headyprejudice. In my early years in Calcutta, ‘M’ stood for the bhadralokBengali’s favourite hate, the Marwari, because the latter did something asdespicable as make money. In other circles, M also stood for ‘Mac’, not asin burgers but as in the community given to saying "B.g..r off, men!" Laterin Mumbai, where we worked at the Illustrated Weekly, Qurratulain Hyderadded her own arch self-deprecation, referring to her tribe as "We M’s!"However, when I came to live in Delhi, I discovered the cultural domination ofanother genre of Ms—the Mall, the Multiplex and the Maalish- waali. Like atout at Tis Hazari, they insidiously sidled into the conversation. Compared tothis omnipotent trilogy, the self-styled deities of Minister and MP were butwannabes.
I came from the plate-glass paradise of Mumbai, but I had never experienced thecomplex consumerist ecosystem of the Mall till I arrived, stirred, shaken andshoved, in Delhi. Gurgaon actually. It wasn’t so much the goods they stockedas the behaviour they provoked which gave them their awesome quality. It was asif the whole shuddering mass of Delhi aggression had been awaiting the Mallmoment.
The Multiplex was occasionally part of the same space, but it occupied amind-zone entirely its own. If shameless goods-grab at the Mall was dismissivelywaived off with a "Do you know who I am?!", that other quintessential Delhimantra ordered the universe of the Multiplex: "What goes of yourfather?!’’ Pappu and Pinky threw it at you, whether they arrived late forthe movie, trampling over a whole row of corns and scattering popcorn, orwhether they drowned the screen dialogue with their mobile conversation on thequality of the gobi and gossip at last night’s farmhouse party.
The Maalishwaali wasn’t part of this landscape, but, arguably, she preparedher clients for their forays into this terrain. However, this was not her soleclaim to social relevance. Maalish- waalis were the gym, the grapevine and theshrink (no pun intended) rolled into one. Dilli Billis of every class, shape andblood group depended on them, and they were more prized than a minister’ssignature.
The Mall and Multiplex represented the capital’s "Yeh Dilli Maangey More"character. The Maalishwaali was the metaphor of a city which pushed and pummeledand needed to oil its way into and out of every situation.
There is of course, a fourth M in Delhi. ‘Madam’ may not be as visible, butshe is no less omnipresent, no less a state of mind.