Yeh hai Bambai, Meri Jaan
The city of dreams, the city where straw can turn to gold, the city where real estate prices compare with those commanded in New York and Tokyo, the city that has no place for the slow and easy….the city you can either love or hate, but never be indifferent to.
I’m currently in that city, and have been here a little over a month. I was working in a film here, called “Migration”, directed by Mira Nair. The experience was a lot of good and a lot of bad; but the one word that encompasses it fully is “intense.” The film taught me about filmmaking, about the practical aspects of my theoretical knowledge, about what it takes to spin a thought into spools of fantasy…and it also taught me about the rat-race, about the dog-eat-dog world we live in, about politics that were beyond my conception, and about survival.
Darwin must have had Bombay in mind when he came up with his theory of “The Survival of the Fittest.” In Bombay, if you’re not enterprising and you don’t have your wits about you at all times, you can, and most certainly will, bite the dust. There is no room for mediocrity and for the laid-back. Sad in a way, but true.
Bombay is also an addiction. Once one settles into the Mumbai way of life, it’s almost impossible to pull oneself out. This city has a quicksand like quality, which sucks you in, and refuses to let you escape its hold over you. Start working in Bombay, get yourself a flat (no one calls them apartments here), figure out the local trains, get used to the terrible monsoons…and you are a Mumbaiker! Then, when your friends come to visit, take them to Café Mondegar, Leopold’s (of Shantaram fame), Marine Drive, Enigma, Poly-Esther, Toto’s Garage, Hawaiian Shack- and send them off beaming, singing praises of a Bombay that they think they have explored. Throw in a couple of film stars at Zenzi or the Marriott coffee shop, and you’re God. In reality of course, they ain’t seen nothin’ till they’ve battled it out on the local railway stations, suffered a monsoon here, caught a nap while stuck in the insane traffic jams, and spent at least a few hours in Asia’s biggest slum- Dharavi.
Ah yes, Dharavi….now that’s a sub-culture in itself. Though it is technically a slum, it’s the hub of a lot of mafia activity, and black money laundering. The residents are people you wouldn’t want to have much to do with, and you certainly don’t want them turning against you. In Bombay, a lot of the economy and power is controlled by the mafia, and Dharavi is a big part of all the activity that keeps the power and money concentrated in the hands it currently is. While shooting the film, we shot for a day at Dharavi, and realised how important it was to know the right people. Because we had the “dada” of Dharavi on our side, the rest of the goons kept their distance and allowed us to shoot; else we would have been lynched, and there’s no saying what the film stars and female members of the crew would have been subjected to. Considering there was a point when I had to be “rescued” by a security chap from the mob, I dare not consider the situation had there been no power play involved. Our tough security men, in their crisp grey uniforms, looking fierce and professional with walkie talkies strapped to them proved utterly ineffective when faced with the rough mob of the slum. Only one of their own can control the Dharavi residents.
All-in-all, Bombay is a city where the slums co-exist with the high-rises, and the destitute with the stinking rich. It can be no other way; one could not exist without the other. It’s one of the few cities where you can live in a flat that overlooks the sea from one window, and the slum from another. Where you pay 15G for a studio apartment that’s 200 sq feet in area, and actually feel pleased about it. Where you can have lunch at a fine dining restaurant with extremely polite company, and step out to be greeted with rickshaw drivers hurling abuses at one another. Where a complete stranger will take time out of his/her busy schedule to help you, an outsider. Where a woman can walk out on the street and hail a cab at 4am, and not have to worry about her safety. Where stepping into a local train is like entering a war-zone, and is still worth it, because it saves you so much time in a city where time is money- quite literally.
At the end of the day, it’s a city that teaches you everything you need to know….about survival.
I’m currently in that city, and have been here a little over a month. I was working in a film here, called “Migration”, directed by Mira Nair. The experience was a lot of good and a lot of bad; but the one word that encompasses it fully is “intense.” The film taught me about filmmaking, about the practical aspects of my theoretical knowledge, about what it takes to spin a thought into spools of fantasy…and it also taught me about the rat-race, about the dog-eat-dog world we live in, about politics that were beyond my conception, and about survival.
Darwin must have had Bombay in mind when he came up with his theory of “The Survival of the Fittest.” In Bombay, if you’re not enterprising and you don’t have your wits about you at all times, you can, and most certainly will, bite the dust. There is no room for mediocrity and for the laid-back. Sad in a way, but true.
Bombay is also an addiction. Once one settles into the Mumbai way of life, it’s almost impossible to pull oneself out. This city has a quicksand like quality, which sucks you in, and refuses to let you escape its hold over you. Start working in Bombay, get yourself a flat (no one calls them apartments here), figure out the local trains, get used to the terrible monsoons…and you are a Mumbaiker! Then, when your friends come to visit, take them to Café Mondegar, Leopold’s (of Shantaram fame), Marine Drive, Enigma, Poly-Esther, Toto’s Garage, Hawaiian Shack- and send them off beaming, singing praises of a Bombay that they think they have explored. Throw in a couple of film stars at Zenzi or the Marriott coffee shop, and you’re God. In reality of course, they ain’t seen nothin’ till they’ve battled it out on the local railway stations, suffered a monsoon here, caught a nap while stuck in the insane traffic jams, and spent at least a few hours in Asia’s biggest slum- Dharavi.
Ah yes, Dharavi….now that’s a sub-culture in itself. Though it is technically a slum, it’s the hub of a lot of mafia activity, and black money laundering. The residents are people you wouldn’t want to have much to do with, and you certainly don’t want them turning against you. In Bombay, a lot of the economy and power is controlled by the mafia, and Dharavi is a big part of all the activity that keeps the power and money concentrated in the hands it currently is. While shooting the film, we shot for a day at Dharavi, and realised how important it was to know the right people. Because we had the “dada” of Dharavi on our side, the rest of the goons kept their distance and allowed us to shoot; else we would have been lynched, and there’s no saying what the film stars and female members of the crew would have been subjected to. Considering there was a point when I had to be “rescued” by a security chap from the mob, I dare not consider the situation had there been no power play involved. Our tough security men, in their crisp grey uniforms, looking fierce and professional with walkie talkies strapped to them proved utterly ineffective when faced with the rough mob of the slum. Only one of their own can control the Dharavi residents.
All-in-all, Bombay is a city where the slums co-exist with the high-rises, and the destitute with the stinking rich. It can be no other way; one could not exist without the other. It’s one of the few cities where you can live in a flat that overlooks the sea from one window, and the slum from another. Where you pay 15G for a studio apartment that’s 200 sq feet in area, and actually feel pleased about it. Where you can have lunch at a fine dining restaurant with extremely polite company, and step out to be greeted with rickshaw drivers hurling abuses at one another. Where a complete stranger will take time out of his/her busy schedule to help you, an outsider. Where a woman can walk out on the street and hail a cab at 4am, and not have to worry about her safety. Where stepping into a local train is like entering a war-zone, and is still worth it, because it saves you so much time in a city where time is money- quite literally.
At the end of the day, it’s a city that teaches you everything you need to know….about survival.
posted by Mojo | 2:22 AM
17 Comments:
darling, its good to bump into you again. you have fallen in love with this city then? it was great to read about your perspective. compared to delhi, i find mumbaikers more polite. its definetly more cosmopolitan (though i think its increasingly getting more polarized). but inspite of all that i read/hear i still dont think its all that different from delhi. city of dreams and poverty is as apt a poetic truism for mumbai as its for delhi.
it sounds like you have come into some money? thats awesome. do let me know how you did it.
a big hug and lots of pat on the back for getting to work with mera nair. its great to know people who successfully manage to follow a dream. what part of movie making are you involved in?
i stay at kalina. i will be in mumbai for the next few years. or maybe i wont.
do stay in touch insi.
sandy here btw
"It can be no other way; one could not exist without the other." Typical defeatist, some like me would call it. But you are the person on the ground, so perhaps have a better non-birds eye view.
I've just touched the Mumbai airport couple of times and never been to the city, but for an outsider, whatever the pluses, the negatives are far too scary, especially the commuting.
God bless your fillam and you too!
Sandy- its great to hear from you too! There's so much to catch up on- its been ages. I'm staying at Bandstand, so not too far from you. When does one get to see ya?
Nice write-up...I think any place where you have limited support would teach you survival.
But, 15k Mam is just exploitation!!!!
On a totally different note, I went to the Parantha wali Gali in CC. Nothing to write home about...the idiots light-fry the parathas. I really wasn't impressed!!!
Later...
IRL meetings tend to make me nervous. :) will call you and lets meet soon.
Your style is eloquent now, Mumbai is getting intoxicating eh? Also, a lot of people would have felt the same thing...like what u write here
Very well put - the Mumbai lifestyle! And how was the experience of working with Mira Nair?
Hi, sorry for the late comment...very well written indeed. Uv given a true picture of the city...when I write a post on Mumbai, I end up romantcising the city for no reason, thanks to a precious & comfortable childhood spent there.
Great to know abt ur work with Mira Nair...sure must have been a great exp..
...visit Siddhivinayak sometime, cute Ganpati & very effective, the two silver mice...u whisper a wish in their ears, it definitely comes true!
Btw, u visited Haji Ali? These are two of my fav places in Mumbai...Keep :))) & enjoy bandstand :)))...n yea, Delhi's missing u...
Anonymous- the experience was, like i said, intense. It was all about learning though; it taught me a lot. Glad u liked the post.
Wonderstorm- I'm in saadi dilli now...just got in a coupla hours ago. Will be here 3-4 days, i hope to see all you guys before I leave again. I'll definately keep siddhivinayak and haji ali on my list of must-dos when i get back to Bombay.
Illusions- ur right about the absence of a support structure teaching one about survival. But there are a few places where the lesson is like a crash course- Bombay being one of them.
Anyway, Im in delhi right now- when are u coming to see me?
Hi Insi, time's on my hands today, so gobbled up your last three posts on a go.
This is my favorite. Wish I could put Chennai on paper as good as you have.
All the best on the projects you have at hand. As for survival, I would go with Rupen.
Gee, now that was an 'early' comment :D
Though there is limitation of understanding at my end, but whatever lil understanding I have about the city, based on that I can say with complete confidence and in state of stupor that Bombay is not the city of dreams (no big city in the world is) its just a city of orgasmic hope. It’s the small town with its snail pace which allow us to dream because there is no paucity of time there. Bombay is just an open platform which allows its dwellers to deliver the pregnant wishes which has been conceived in the quietness of countryside.
Sadly speaking; Bombay prides itself on its stark contradictions, on its indifferent and self centered attitude, on its daily struggle for bare necessities of life, on its insanely chaotic crowds and on its shanty, stinking dwellings. The problem of Bombay is that it has several billionaires but not a single enlightened visionary who is ready to take the initiative of changing the face of the city.
Bombay was beautiful only till the Colonial Era. Since their departure it is in the continuous stage of decay. If Bombay really wants to be associated with the tag of “Ye hai Bombay meri jaan”,then it really has to work a lot at its end. The task is arduous; but where there is wish, there is way.
Though there is limitation of understanding at my end, but whatever lil understanding I have about the city, based on that I can say with complete confidence and in state of stupor that Bombay is not the city of dreams (no big city in the world is) its just a city of orgasmic hope. It’s the small town with its snail pace which allow us to dream because there is no paucity of time there. Bombay is just an open platform which allows its dwellers to deliver the pregnant wishes which has been conceived in the quietness of countryside.
Sadly speaking; Bombay prides itself on its stark contradictions, on its indifferent and self centered attitude, on its daily struggle for bare necessities of life, on its insanely chaotic crowds and on its shanty, stinking dwellings. The problem of Bombay is that it has several billionaires but not a single enlightened visionary who is ready to take the initiative of changing the face of the city.
Bombay was beautiful only till the Colonial Era. Since their departure it is in the continuous stage of decay. If Bombay really wants to be associated with the tag of “Ye hai Bombay meri jaan”,then it really has to work a lot at its end. The task is arduous; but where there is wish, there is way.
Agreed, agreed. Except what makes Bambai "meri jaan" is a personal perspective. For all those who call the city "home", the affection for the city is what is conveyed in the phrase. For me, personally, I've seen the good and bad the city has to offer, and have to admit to a grudging kind of respect.
Thank you very much for taking my words in right spirit. I appreciate that u admit a grudging kind of respect for the city which is well understood. I appreciate ur affection for the city, which is quite natural. My only point of objection has been (with whosoever defends Bombay) is that the dwellers of this city has shown too much of blind love n affection towards the city which is responsible for its dilapidated state of affairs. The problem with blind love n affection is that it starts ignoring awful lot of thing which takes the shape of chronic disease.
Bombay has the potential of becoming a world class wonderful city and all it needs is affectionate concern of its darling dwellers who can, cry, scream and shout for its beautification, for its better infrastructure, for its good standard of living for one and all, not only for select few.
Allow me to say this: Bombay has been the victim of too much of affection. There is just too much of acceptance on part of its inhabitants which so far has not done any good to this lovely city.
Bombay can’t be just about Colaba Causeway,Cuffe Paradae,Marine drive and Nariman point.A world class city is not known only for its sky scrappers, but for what kind of living and public service facility it is providing to all those people who otherwise can’t afford a swanky apartment facing the sea and fleet of cars to commute.
May this city grow in leaps and bounds-----------horizontally and vertically…
Hope my words will be taken in right spirit.
Long Live Bombay
I dont think its blind love and affection- rather, its the turning of a blind eye. Nobody cares or has the time to care about what's going on beyond thier little worlds. Bombay is perhaps heading towards a collapse because of the overload on its limited infrastructure. But until that day, we will all skirt around the problem areas and pretend we dont see. Or if we see, we crib.
Bombay is a city of worker ants. Everyone is constantly running; and helping one another because worker ants have to do that in order to survive.
But its a city I've grown to admire for its resilience and ability to bounce back. The hands that push you out of the local train are the same ones that will pull you back in if you're falling.
Yeah right” it’s the turning of a blind eye”,and I will stick with this analysis of yours. You are also right when you that “nobody cares or has the time to care about what's going on beyond their little worlds”.And that precisely is the problem of Bombay. Vision of Bombay wasi is very narrow and limited (no offence intended) They are just like horses looking straight and running from point A to B with full, passion, dedication and determination without bothering for anything else.
It’s not that it is overloaded because of limitation of infrastructure. It’s overloaded because there is lack of vision on part of its planners; it’s overloaded because it has not been managed efficiently, it’s overloaded because nobody gives a damn about proper management of the city, its overloaded because it has seen an “unprecedented polarized” growth of industries and other commercial activities, which further has led to hugh influx of migration from other state and that in turn has led to scrambled for space, which is leading towards the inflated real estate prices, which we end up paying throw our nose(all this is because of mismanagement and corruption)
Whatever Bombay is today is because of the vision, ambition and planning of Gora logs,which I refuse to call as my own. Whatever is our own is disgustingly dirty and horribly filthy.
Bombay could have been a role model for other cities of India, but ah;
I wonder what a tourist will get to see here except all those gigantic colonial buildings, museums and monuments.That hardly tells anything about the city. It only tells how imposing and powerful our erstwhile masters have been.
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