It was 27.11.08. My television had been beaming live images of the terror-affected Taj, Oberoi and Nariman House for more than 24 hours. The senses had numbed. There was no apparent end to this terror drama, which was being presented to me in mini and mega- bytes of biting reality. That was the time I put the disc of Mumbai Meri Jaan in my DVD player. It was a pathetic attempt at calming down my frayed nerves. I knew it was a movie about the last major terror attack on Mumbai but then that was just ‘reel’- not ‘real’! Confronting reality was tough; I took the easy way of ‘reeling it’ out! A movie addict was taking solace in his lifelong addiction
The film took me back to 11th July2006. Mumbai gets rocked by multiple bomb blasts on the suburban local trains. Lives are lost; lives are changed forever. I am looking at a motley bunch of diverse characters. There is a yuppie executive (Madhavan) who has been steadfastly refusing to take the US-job- bait and who is quite happy traveling by crowded local trains; a prominent TV-reporter (Soha Ali Khan) who is eagerly looking forward to her upcoming marriage; an out of work and religiously prejudiced IT-salesman (KK) who whiles away time with his cronies at a street-side Irani restaurant; a poor family-man (Irfan Khan) fascinated and awed by the metro’s mall-culture; a world-wise old police constable (Paresh Raval), who is just days away from his retirement and his headstrong deputy, who is frustrated by the corrupt, inept Police system. Together they represent a wide cross-section of Mumbai’s millions-strong population. They are the ‘Aam Aadmi’ making Mumbai what it is. How 7/11 changes their lives and how they come to terms with those changes, that’s what is Mumbai Meri Jaan all about. It is not about heroes and villains, it is about the common man!
As a film, Mumbai Meri Jaan initially seemed a bit slow and patchy while it tried to build up the characters. But once that was done, its second half was simply superb in terms of conveying so many bitter truths closer to home. The harsh reality lurking in the background made this film even more relevant to me. Post- 26/11, 7/11 or for that matter Post 1993-blasts- Mumbai has always evoked a sense of despair and desolation in my mind. For me- Mumbai, the city which hosted me during the best years of my youth has always remained ‘My City’ despite not having spent my childhood or latter years there. Even today, 15 years after becoming an NRI, I keep yearning to finally come down and settle in ‘My City’ but each such incident and its aftermath make me question my commitment to that desire. I hate myself for being so selfish, so ‘typical NRI’ like but that’s the way it is! So in the film, when Madhavan started to think about migration and having second thoughts about traveling in a crowded train in the Post 7-11 – Mumbai, I could identify with him.
I have always hated the obnoxious wolf-packing ‘Byte hungry’ media personnel wielding their cameras and microphones with ignorant/arrogant insensitivity at inopportune moments. So I could identify with Soha Ali’s inability to deal with the inquisitive media’s intrusion into her private world of pain of losing her fiancé in the bomb-blast. Having seen some religious fanatics and their line of thinking from close and unexpected quarters, I could identify with Kay Kay’s mind trying to clear off those cobwebs of his flawed philosophy of blaming the ‘others’ for every terror act. Having witnessed the economic disparity and the resultant frustration, I could understand the warped logic behind ‘Have-not’ Irfan Khan’s false ‘Bomb threats’ to get his revenge on the ‘Haves’. Identifying with the young police recruit’s simmering anger against the ineffective ‘System’ was easy but surprisingly even the retiring policeman’s almost Gandhian tolerance seemed quite justified.
The performances were realistic with Paresh Raval and Kay Kay being outstanding. Writer-Director Nishikant Kamat (of Dombivali-fast- fame) almost did everything right. He even ended the film on a positive note showing the Mumbaikars rising up together in nationalistic fervor, working towards a better future. It was an uplifting, optimistic screen-moment. But then I switched off my DVD player and switched on the news channel. The real terror drama in Mumbai was then entering its 30th hour, still a long way from its ultimate bloody conclusion! Why doesn’t ‘real’ ever be as good as the ‘reel’?
Kesariya Balam