Two cities by the sea
Immortalised in countless Bollywood “fillums” there is something about "Aamchi Mumbai" (our Mumbai) which sucks you into it’s vortex and leaves you yearning for more. The cosmopolitan buzz and the pulsating fever permeating the air reminds one of Karachi on so many levels.
Although Mumbai and Karachi illustrate well how there can be unity in diversity, both cities are increasingly in the vice like grip of mafia dons who want to claim the city for themselves. Not so long ago, there was a drive to make Mumbai a city only for Maharashtrians, a “Marathi manoos” credo fiercely resisted by the likes of prominent Mumbai citizens like Mukesh Ambani, Sachin Tendulkar and Amitabh Bachchan. "Mumbai belongs to India. That is how I look at it. And I am a Maharashtrian and I am extremely proud of that, but I am an Indian first," said Tendulkar.
Author of ‘Mumbai Fables’, Gyan Prakash asserts, “The image of Mumbai as a liberal city ruled by law and reason has long turned out to be a chimera.” Over time, the state's authority has been eroded as a nexus of greedy politicians, a thriving underworld, unscrupulous property developers and a discredited police force seem to have been ruling the roost, undermining institutions. The rich in Mumbai are said to live with one foot in New York and one foot in the city. It is the poor and the disenfranchised who have to struggle day in and day out and face the spectre of mindless violence too. Sounds familiar, doesn’t it?
Mumbai mirrors Karachi too in the way it is a seductive merchant of dreams. Thousands have trekked here to be part of a city that doesn’t sleep and whose streets are paved with gold for those who have the Midas touch. Writer Prashant Agarwal sums it up: “A city that allows a gas station attendant to build India’s largest enterprise, Dhirubhai Ambani; a city that takes a lanky kid and makes him a household name in India, Amitabh Bachchan; a city that allows a bus conductor’s son to become the hero of a nation, Sachin Tendulkar. The will of Mumbaikers is strong and as long as the government responds appropriately, the city will keep humming without missing a beat."
One of the most arresting traits of Mumbai is it’s street lingo which is known as Tapori or Bambaiya (Mumbaiya) language. Bambaiya Hindi is Hindi pidgin which incorporates words from Hindi, Urdu, Gujarati, Marathi, Konkani and English. While such dialects may also have evolved in other cosmopolitan cities, Bombay Hindi is known throughout India and beyond due to it’s frequent use in Bollywood movies like Munnabhai MBBS, Company and Muqaddar ka Sikander, to name just a few.
While in Mumbai, I sallied forth into it’s colourful streets and bylanes which were throbbing with customers. Leaning into the dazzling array of earrings displayed at a crowded stall, I hemmed and hawed while admiring the intriguing designs. Holding up a couple of earrings, I asked the amiable stall owner, “Yeh aap thora kam kar kay dein gay, bhai?" (Will you reduce the price brother?). Bhai regretfully shook his head although his smile didn’t lose any wattage. My Indian friend tut tutted in frustration and said “Arrey aisay naheen baat karnay ka! Let me deal with him.” (You don’t like that. Let me deal with him) Relegated to the sidelines, I watched admiringly as she launched into “Kiyun boss? Tu kitnay ka day ga? Aakhri price hai, bol.. tu kiya kehta hai?” (So boss how much for these? What’s the final price?). Needless to say, I got my earrings at a reduced price.
A signboard at a nearby restaurant catches my eye. ‘Gharachi Aatwan’ literally means remembering home cooked food. In other words, the food here reminds people of home. Simple and yet so eloquent.
The allure of the famous Marine Drive is reminiscent of Sea View with it’s snack bars, soft sand, candy wrappers, rippling waves and excitable crowds. Doting parents ensconce their children inside toy cars and motor cycles which are pulled by dusty street kids who race up and down the uneven sand with their squealing charges in tow. Sweaty and breathless, coins are pocketed as the ride comes to a sooty end. Their sombre eyes and rugged faces dog my footsteps on the way home.
Ambling down the lanes of Colaba Causeway, I come across the trendy Leopold’s Café and do a double take. Founded in 1871, Leopold’s or Leo’s is one of the city’s oldest Irani run restaurants and has an ambiance reminiscent of a French café. Leopold’s brims with beaming waiters and foreign and local customers devouring delicious food with chilled drinks. Yummy pasta, chicken tikka, chilli beef teriyaki, butter garlic prawns and spring rolls beckon enticingly, but I had to reluctantly detach myself from the savoury delights because I was running short of time. Never in my wildest dreams could I have thought then that the next time I saw Leo’s façade would be during the 26/11 TV coverage. The grisly images of the bloodied floor, over turned tables and sprawled bodies are almost impossible to reconcile with my sun drenched and aromatic memories.
The joie de vivre and never say die spirit of Karachiites and Mumbaiites means that although they may stagger from the blows, they manage to absorb every blow and pull themselves upright once again. But as Mumbai and Karachi reel from more bouts of violence, I recall a smiling waiter at Mumbai’s Pizza Hut interrupting my order to ask, “Where are you from?” and when I say “Pakistan” he breaks out into a wide grin. Showering me with coloured candies, he waves aside my hesitation and exclaims, “Welcome to India! We are friends and we both want peace.”
It is the people of Mumbai and Karachi who make the pulsating cities what they are, not the army or the politicians or assorted sidekicks. When there is such an avid desire for peace on both sides of the border, why are we still drowning in rivers of war mongering, jingoism, ethnic cleansing, and brainwashing? As Sahir said, “Khoon Apna ho ya Paraya ho/ Nasle Adam ka khoon hai Aakhir”.
Maheen Usmani is a freelance journalist. She has reported on varied subjects, ranging from socio-political issues to sports, travel, culture and counter terrorism.