In reality there are as many stories about Mumbai as there are people living in it. However, in actuality and in published form, there will be as many books on Mumbai as there are publishers. The latest book to be thrown into the mix is the politically correctly titled Mumbai Fables by US-based author Gyan Prakash with publisher HarperCollins. After the last Mumbai book Maximum City by Suketu Mehta, here is another version.
Prakash calls Mumbai a ‘mythic city’, a title it has probably never held before. However, he is convinced about this and the first chapter bears this title — the first in a set of rather oddly titled or mis-titled chapters, of which there are nine. This chapter is the most fascinating for it captures the city in a somewhat mythical lens. It is definitely larger than it appears physically, emotionally, socially, politically, historically, artistically and some of these aspects are what are explored in the chapters that follow. Once the larger than life aspect is understood, the title of mythical city becomes easier to swallow and the presence of the world ‘Fable’ in the title also sits a little easier. Mumbai’s story, otherwise, is too hardcore to be a fable.
First the author takes us on a journey through the annals of Mumbai’s history and its streets, alternately and skillfully. He sets the stage by enumerating the key, through predictable events in the city — the rise of the right-winged Sena, the darkness of the Hindu-Muslim riots of 1992-93, the floods of 25-7-2005, the train blasts of 7/11 and finally the Nov 26, 2008 attacks on the city by Pakistan-based terrorists.
In further chapters the author explores his pet premises about the city with greater passion. These include a historical account of the city from the arrival of Vasco da Gama, to the Jesuits and finally the British with their Company.
And thus began the rise of Mumbai as a ‘mongrel’ city where different languages and cultures mingled to great effect. People poured in from all quarters, Parsis from Gujarat, along with other Gujarati brethren, Hindu and Jain baniyas who came to serve the needs of a city bursting with commerce, the Bohra, Khoja and Memon communities from Gujarat, who also primarily came to ‘exploit the opportunities that the new colonial settlement offered.’
The political journey of the city is enshrined in another chapter where it travels ‘From Red to Saffron’ as the author puts it. He refers to the murder of left-wing union leader Krishna Desai and suggests it was at this stage that ‘the Shiv Sena established itself as a powerful, intimidating force. Today the colour saffron is ubiquitous in the city,’ he avers. In a lighter vein, the book shows the ‘cartoon wars’ sparked by the battle between red and saffron, an otherwise serious and irreversible move.
Next, the book attempts to understand the building and (lack of) planning frenzy that gripped the city as it grew beyond reason. And finally, the author takes a peek at the lawlessness of Mumbai; a palpable yet camouflaged display of underworld muscle. To portray this he innovatively uses a comic strip based on a Batman-like superhero Doga, so named since he wears a dog mask!

Mohyna Srinivasan is the author of
The House on Mall Road