Mumbai reminds me of the Hindi novel Kuru-Kuru Swaha (1980), written by Manohar Shyam Joshi, an iconic litterateur and scriptwriter. It바카라s said to be the first post-modern novel in Hindi. Undoubtedly, it바카라s very different from its Hindi contemporaries, with a non-linear narrative that avoids the dominant trope of mainstream Hindi literature바카라marginalised society.
Set in 1962-63, the novel doesn바카라t talk about 바카라one바카라 but 바카라many바카라. Even its narrator has many identities. It is a kind of biographical novel, with three narrators바카라Manohar Shyam Joshi himself, the writer Joshiji who dreams of writing a magnum opus equal to War and Peace or The Wasteland, and Manohar, an emotional fool. While living in Mumbai, Joshiji has developed a second dream바카라of making a film called Sweet Decadence.
These three overlapping narrators encapsulate the dilemma of India바카라s emerging middle-class. Their composite represents a generation that had begun to lose faith in the grand Idea of India, with the mohbhang (disillusionment) over the Nehruvian model setting in after India바카라s humiliating military defeat in the hands of China. The mohbhang is described satirically. At one point, the second narrator Joshiji tells Mohan Rakesh, another real life litterateur and playwright, that, 바카라There바카라s nothing we can hope or worry about바카라even a second attack by China!바카라
As a metaphor for Bombay, the novel offers the reader everything that the Bombay of 1962 did. Bombay meant cinema, Bombay meant dreams, business, power, a vibrant fine arts and theatre scene. Most of all, it represents Bombay바카라s cosmopolitan core바카라representing India in a microcosm.
These days, Mumbai has become a centre of power and power brokers. But that too reminds one of Kuru-Kuru Swaha. Perhaps, it바카라s the only Hindi novel that foregrounds Mumbai바카라s ubiquitous dalal (pimp)바카라a guy named Babu, whose business it is to stand at Chowpatty beach and sell Bombay바카라s beauty to unsuspecting victims.
The next character the novel introduces is the woman Pahuncheli. Together, they stand as metaphors for the future Mumbai. There are people like Babu selling its beauty, and there are others바카라migrants hoping to fulfil their dreams, like the narrator(s) fruitlessly trying to acquire Pahuncheli바카라a mysterious woman everybody claims to know, but none actually does. That바카라s Mumbai right there.
Kuru-Kuru Swaha is reminiscent of the days when Bombay was also a centre for intellectual activities, such as publishing, art exhibitions, terrace theatre, film societies and progressive movements, glimpses of which run through the novel. The novel reflects upon the meaninglessness of Bombay바카라s leftist intellectuals, who, after promising to work for the movement, abandon it to run after the glamour of Bollywood. There is a leftist Urdu poet Khaliq, who renders hifalutin speeches, only to become a film scriptwriter, start making money and forget all about his revolutionary idealism. In this, it dovetails into the author바카라s later novel Kyāpa, a Sahitya Academy winner, that also critiques leftist writers in the movement.
By blurring the boundary between the literary and the populist, the novel also breaks new ground. It tackles all the intellectual debates of its time, but satirically, confounding contemporary critics. In a long interview of Joshi by poet Ajit Kumar, published in the January 1981 issue of the literary magazine Sarika, the interviewer draws similarity between Kuru-Kuru Swaha and Shekhar: Ek Jeevani (Agyeya, 1940), and castigates Joshi of narcissism. Personally, I find Kuru-Kuru Swaha closer to Shrilal Shukla바카라s Raag Darbari (1968) in its humorous narrative style, even though thematically, Raag Darbari is about political disillusionment and cynicism, while Kuru-Kuru Swaha targets intellectual decadence.
Among other things, the novel also focuses on how the Idea of India is dying in its commercial capital, as everything, including arts and culture gets commercialised. There are throwaway debates on the clash of tradition and modernity, the Anglicised middle-class, their decadent parties, and their detachment from the realities of India바카라s majority. As a major (pejorative) trope, bazaarvaad gains centrality in Hindi literature much later, around the 1990s. Kuru-Kuru Swaha, though, anticipates that through tropes of loss of ideals and innocence.
Among memorable characters in the novel, special mention must be made of Rathijit Bhattacharya바카라a 바카라genius바카라 filmmaker바카라and the story-writing sessions with him. The debates there are reminiscent of the vibe around the 바카라parallel cinema바카라 movement of the 1960s.
But most of all, what sets the novel apart is its use of Bambaiya, the city바카라s colourful, constantly evolving pidgin, and its many registers바카라in Hindi, Gujarati, Punjabi, Marathi. Perhaps, no Hindi novelist since Phanishwarnath 바카라Renu바카라 has played with Hindi바카라s multifarious oral traditions as well as Kuru-Kuru Swaha.
(This appeared in the print edition as "Many Bombays Now")
(Views expressed are personal)
***
A Whimsical Philippic
That memorable evening!
After picking my brains over the script of an in-house documentary on the Western Railways, I came out of their office exhausted. I thought, 바카라Let me have a tea at the stall outside Churchgate railway station before heading to the guest house.바카라
As I started on my cup of tea and a plate of pakoras, a voice from behind said: 바카라I can be convinced to have tea with you, and if you insist a lot, I might even consider the pakoras.바카라
I turned to find Khaliq, dressed whimsically. Dirty, torn pyjamas and an inverted khaki vest. A week-old stubble. Barefoot. Teeth that had not been brushed for some time.
I answered Khaliq바카라s questions and then tried to get rid of him.
바카라So, you have developed such airs that you can바카라t bear my company?바카라 he responded, irritably, 바카라Does your bourgeois nose find me smelly? Go on, tell me?바카라
Why would I confess to that. Even though the body of the genius was emitting a rank sweaty smell.
Khaliq grabbed me by the collar and pushed my nose down his hairy armpit: 바카라So, can you smell the working class Indian now?바카라
When I pushed him away, he started fighting me. I could have easily beaten him up, but according to Joshiji, even that would be his victory. Irrespective of the righteousness of his 바카라rebellion바카라바카라he would always come out victorious against my 바카라compromise.바카라 I had 바카라compromised바카라 as soon as I had got a job.
In any case, I resorted to the same 바카라compromise바카라 now and said: 바카라Khaliq, I바카라m also a worker like you. I survive by my pen. Even on a holiday today, I바카라ve toiled the whole day writing for a documentary. So far, I바카라ve not even become a small-time sahib, earning a meagre Rs 1,000 a month.
Khaliq softened a little and wished me luck: 바카라Go on, bastard! You바카라ll become a small-time sahib after all, as you바카라re not fit to become anything more than that anyway.바카라
Thereafter, Khaliq began ranting on the 바카라system바카라, cursing the revolutionary souls of our acquaintances who had 바카라made it.바카라
Once this 바카라blessing ritual바카라 was over, he was happy. But this happiness cost me dearly. Now he insisted I accompany him to Andheri East바카라s slums, where he was camping. He said now that I바카라d become a little fresh after smelling his armpit, I had to get rid of my bourgeois staleness by smelling the place. He claimed that the recent success Shailendra had achieved with some of his songs was a result of the inspiration found while spending four hours in Khaliq바카라s shanty.
(Translated by Iqbal Abhimanyu)
Prabhat Ranjan is a Hindi novelist, translator and professor at Zakir Husain College, DU
