Friday, December 17, 2004
Maximum City - Bombay Lost And Found by Suketu Mehta
A Close Look at Bombay's Underbelly
Suketu Mehta's Maximum City
Suketu Mehta’s book grabbed me from page one. I went through the 540 pages in three days.
Powerful writing. Mr. Mehta succeeded in bringing Bombay---the Bombay that tourists and occasional visitors are completely unaware of---to life. The gang leaders,bar girls,politicians, and the people who have made Bollywood famous,all parade through the book and tell their stories. Mr. Mehta was fortunate to have the right connections to reach them but he described the meetings in an unique manner and succeeded in making the sights, smells, and sounds come alive. Think of paintings by William Hogarth and Hieronymus Bosch.
Mr. Mehta made it clear that he disliked the trend in India of changing names of cities and streets. It was not Mumbai but Bombay that he wrote about. To him it would always be Bombay.
The graphic descriptions of violence and the squalor were repelling. As were the narratives of hit men who talked with cold detachment about their victims. The pervasive influence of leaders of the underworld and corruption among all levels of law enforcement personnel left me with a sick feeling. Between bar girls who made more money (and did so without taking off their saris) than strippers in New York City; their patrons who literally threw money at them; and the idols of the screen who were controlled by gang leaders, the city seemed to be a jungle inhabited by people without any compunction, all bent on pursuit of money, power, violence, and sex.
Mr. Mehta was born in Calcutta but lived in Bombay until the age of 14 when he became a resident of Jackson Heights,New York City. His love for Bombay comes through despite the ugliness that he portrayed. There could be other cities (perhaps in the former Soviet Republic) where the same kind of “law of the jungle” prevails. Calcutta, where I once lived, is another city with a dirty underbelly. Corrupt politicians,not gang leaders, call the shots there.
V.S. Naipaul's “An Area of Darkness”, written after his first visit to India in 1962, received a lot of flak from critics in India. Among other comments, Naipaul wrote “Indians defecate everywhere”. It is interesting that more than 35 years later Mehta, too, couldn’t escape the fact and wrote that each day about 2.5 million kilos (5,511,556 lbs!) of shit was left by residents of Bombay who used outdoor locations due to lack of access to toilet facilities. He remarked that while the flats in his building were kept spotlessly clean, the public spaces (halls, stairways) were filthy and strewn with garbage. Some things never change in India.
I remember spending three weeks in Bombay in the summer of 1989. I geared up for a run on my first morning and stepped out of the hotel on Marine Drive. The oily, slate-grey water of the Arabian Sea, the stench and the garbage pushed me in the opposite direction and that is what I did during the rest of my stay----ran through business district and residential areas, away from the promenade. Yet, thousands of people gather there every morning and, I guess, find pleasure in walking along the promenade.
India has made gigantic strides in the field of software engineering and is becoming a power house in Asia. China's burgeoning economy has made it the top dog but India is not too far behind. One wonders though about the very visible open drains and slums that are like suppurating wounds. Few Indians seem to be bothered by such conditions. Most have become inured; others are in denial; some are aware,feel ashamed, enraged, and suffer without venting their feelings.
************************
"The city is not a concrete jungle, it is a human zoo."
----Desmond Morris
************************
”The Jane Austen Book Club” by Karen Joy Fowler
This is what I am reading now.
Still on the library's waiting list for Elfriede Jelinek's "The Piano Teacher".
************************
Anouar Brahem
Le pas du chat noir, ECM Records
Anouar Brahem, oud
Francois Couturier, piano
Jean-Louis Matinier, accordion
A few years ago MD (a friend of a friend) introduced me to Anouar Brahem's "Conte de l'incroyable amour". Brahem, a 47-year old Tunisian is creating wonderful music. He began as an oud (African version of lute) player and performed mostly for the Arab world. Over the years he has collaborated with well-known performers of jazz as well as Indian musicians. It is a pleasure to listen to Brahem and his accompanists.
MD was doing doctoral work at Stanford when I met her. Now she is teaching at Swarthmore in Pennsylvania as part of a post-doctoral program.
************************
Suketu Mehta's Maximum City
Suketu Mehta’s book grabbed me from page one. I went through the 540 pages in three days.
Powerful writing. Mr. Mehta succeeded in bringing Bombay---the Bombay that tourists and occasional visitors are completely unaware of---to life. The gang leaders,bar girls,politicians, and the people who have made Bollywood famous,all parade through the book and tell their stories. Mr. Mehta was fortunate to have the right connections to reach them but he described the meetings in an unique manner and succeeded in making the sights, smells, and sounds come alive. Think of paintings by William Hogarth and Hieronymus Bosch.
Mr. Mehta made it clear that he disliked the trend in India of changing names of cities and streets. It was not Mumbai but Bombay that he wrote about. To him it would always be Bombay.
The graphic descriptions of violence and the squalor were repelling. As were the narratives of hit men who talked with cold detachment about their victims. The pervasive influence of leaders of the underworld and corruption among all levels of law enforcement personnel left me with a sick feeling. Between bar girls who made more money (and did so without taking off their saris) than strippers in New York City; their patrons who literally threw money at them; and the idols of the screen who were controlled by gang leaders, the city seemed to be a jungle inhabited by people without any compunction, all bent on pursuit of money, power, violence, and sex.
Mr. Mehta was born in Calcutta but lived in Bombay until the age of 14 when he became a resident of Jackson Heights,New York City. His love for Bombay comes through despite the ugliness that he portrayed. There could be other cities (perhaps in the former Soviet Republic) where the same kind of “law of the jungle” prevails. Calcutta, where I once lived, is another city with a dirty underbelly. Corrupt politicians,not gang leaders, call the shots there.
V.S. Naipaul's “An Area of Darkness”, written after his first visit to India in 1962, received a lot of flak from critics in India. Among other comments, Naipaul wrote “Indians defecate everywhere”. It is interesting that more than 35 years later Mehta, too, couldn’t escape the fact and wrote that each day about 2.5 million kilos (5,511,556 lbs!) of shit was left by residents of Bombay who used outdoor locations due to lack of access to toilet facilities. He remarked that while the flats in his building were kept spotlessly clean, the public spaces (halls, stairways) were filthy and strewn with garbage. Some things never change in India.
I remember spending three weeks in Bombay in the summer of 1989. I geared up for a run on my first morning and stepped out of the hotel on Marine Drive. The oily, slate-grey water of the Arabian Sea, the stench and the garbage pushed me in the opposite direction and that is what I did during the rest of my stay----ran through business district and residential areas, away from the promenade. Yet, thousands of people gather there every morning and, I guess, find pleasure in walking along the promenade.
India has made gigantic strides in the field of software engineering and is becoming a power house in Asia. China's burgeoning economy has made it the top dog but India is not too far behind. One wonders though about the very visible open drains and slums that are like suppurating wounds. Few Indians seem to be bothered by such conditions. Most have become inured; others are in denial; some are aware,feel ashamed, enraged, and suffer without venting their feelings.
************************
"The city is not a concrete jungle, it is a human zoo."
----Desmond Morris
************************
”The Jane Austen Book Club” by Karen Joy Fowler
This is what I am reading now.
Still on the library's waiting list for Elfriede Jelinek's "The Piano Teacher".
************************
Anouar Brahem
Le pas du chat noir, ECM Records
Anouar Brahem, oud
Francois Couturier, piano
Jean-Louis Matinier, accordion
A few years ago MD (a friend of a friend) introduced me to Anouar Brahem's "Conte de l'incroyable amour". Brahem, a 47-year old Tunisian is creating wonderful music. He began as an oud (African version of lute) player and performed mostly for the Arab world. Over the years he has collaborated with well-known performers of jazz as well as Indian musicians. It is a pleasure to listen to Brahem and his accompanists.
MD was doing doctoral work at Stanford when I met her. Now she is teaching at Swarthmore in Pennsylvania as part of a post-doctoral program.
************************
