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A film on India's premier
city Mumbai holds up a mirror to the trials and tribulations
of living in an increasingly urbanised world, says Ranjita
Biswas.
A coffee vendor, once a country bumpkin but now street-savvy,
cycles through the lanes of the city, selling coffee to night
fairies and clients alike; a glass pane cleaner looks down
from his great height on a city he loves- but only from above
as the slums he lives in is but a dot; Koli fisherwomen string
Bombay Ducks and hangs them high on the racks to dry by the
seaside; the newly-arrived queue up with job applications;
a girl from Punjab and newly employed in the city, searches
for a flat with some modicum of comfort while the highrises
look down pitifully on the toiling mass down on the street;
gravestones disappear from derelict burial grounds as unrelenting
migrant colonies spring up.
Which is the real Mumbai or Bombay, the commercial hub of
a fast emerging world economy? In a way, they are all true,
facets that have grown and merged with each other through
the years from the seven non-descript islands on the Arabian
Sea, Bom Bahia -a gift of the Portuguese to the English. Madhusree
Dutta's evocative documentary Seven Islands and a Metro catches
the nuances of the city that never sleeps in a chiaroscuro
of images.
Stringing the narrative, which the director rightly calls
"non-fiction feature' because the effect is no less,
are the fictionalised characters of two well-known writers
who made the city their own, Ismat Chugtai and Sadat Hasan
Manto. Their penetrating observation brings alive the humour
and the sadness, the desperate and the optimist, the heartline
suburban trains in a way that makes the city a character by
itself, as in a feature film.
But Madhusree's portrayal of Mumbai, the growing urban migration
and its effect on people who come looking for their El Dorado,
can be the story of any city in a developing world today as
the clash of industrialization and struggle for livelihood
recurs regularly. Something that is not surprising as the
prospect of 'at least not starving' pushes people from the
backwaters to the city constantly and the border of a city
to devour more areas, more villages. Mumbai could be Rio De
Janeiro, Manila, Beijing.
Historically, cities have been the driving force in economic
and social development in every civilisation. But today, for
the first time in this history, more people are living in
cities than outside of them. Planners predict that the rate
of urbanisation will only increase in the near future and
soon one third of the world's population will be living in
urban centres. Understanding cities, a Discovery Channel production
looked at this phenomenon and the strains this puts on city's
resources.
Even India with its largely agricultural populace living in
rural area is slowly changing its profile with widespread
migration. A statistical look vindicates this trend well enough.
At present approximately 307 million Indians live in nearly
3700 towns and cities spread across the country. This is 30.5
per cent of its population. At the time of Independence only
60 millions (15per cent) lived in urban areas. During the
last 50 years the population of India has grown two and half
times, but Urban India has grown by nearly five times.
About one-third of Urban India (71 million) lives in metropolitan
cities (million plus). Out of the total increase in the country's
urban population of 58 million between 1981 and 1991, 44 million
were added to Class I cities alone. 28 million persons were
added in metropolitan cities.
Statistics look dry but they also hold in their womb the story
of countless human beings, the displacements, the poverty
and the intolerance towards 'others' which simmers underneath,
and, as it has been witnessed increasingly, ready to burst
forth in violence at the slightest provocation. In Madhusree's
film seemingly modern youths of strict vegetarian families
justify not letting out flats in the gleaming apartment block
to non-vegetarian people because one has to go by "certain
values".
The changing urban face and its effect on 'values' has figured
in numerous other films. Being the most modern of the arts,
cinema is bound to reflect a changing society and individual's
response to it . One remembers the scene in Satyajit Ray's
Mahanagar when Madhabi Mukherjee throws away the lipstick
her Anglo-Indian friend gave her to add to her appearance
as a salesgirl but which her middleclass unemployed husband
looks with suspicion. Or Bimal Roy's Do Bigha Zamin where
rickshawalla Balraj Sahni tries, to cope with competition,
a metaphor for the struggle of the rural in the urban jungle.
But just as Madhusree is not judgemental about viewpoints
of the different Mumbaikars and some of the city's facets
which at times would seem cruel to an outsider, one cannot
dismiss urbanisation as an unmitigated evil with one stroke,
particularly not today when it's a reality. At best, it can
only hold up a mirror to the varied possibilities of human
existence and endeavour.
Rain song
Madhusree Dutta on her film: 'Seven Islands and a Metro'
The film gives a feeling of both an outsider's look
as well as and insider as if you know every nuance of
the city.
I've lived in Mumbai for the last 18 years. Yet, in
some sense, I'm still an outsider. That gives an angularity.
Angularities are important when making a film like this.
For example, if I make a film on Kolkata, my native
city, it'd be too smooth, too linear because of my experience
of growing up there.
What made you take up the subject? We are used to seeing
with subjects with feminist interpretation. Is it your
tribute to the city?
If you see my filmography from I live in Behrampara
to last year's Made in India every film has an urban
angle . In a way, this film is a sequel to I live…
The many nuances of the city, its many facets are fascinating
and of course, my involvement with Majlis organization
which gives legal support to women in need has also
influenced many of my works.
Your Mumbai often looks quite lonely though it bustles
with people and is often rain-soaked .
Yes, I tried to look at the city when it's by itself,
devoid of people. As to the monsoon shots, it's because
I like a little distance between myself and the city
and a shield of rain gives that effect. In fact, we
shot the film through three monsoons. I was asked to
make a three-minute film on the city by a film festival
organiser; it just needed one-day shoot. We went to
a textile factory and then suddenly I felt there was
a bigger story there, of the people, how they look at
the city and the idea was born.
It's also disturbing the way the city is losing out
to divisiveness. Every community feels it's their own
city and the others are outsiders.
True. Though the city has grown with each wave of migrants
from different parts, once they settle down they feel
it's their city and the others are outsiders.
You also seem to focus on the dehumanising effect of
urbanization.
It's an irony that as more people congregate together
in a place the more isolated they become. My seven islands
are not just meant geographically but as metaphors of
humans as islands. Identities lose their individualisms
in the melee of making a living. As the stunt woman
from Bollywood 'doubling' for the heroine in hits like
Sholay, Sita aur Gita etc., sums up: hume muhn chhupane
ka 2000 milta hai aur muhn dikhane ka 1000. (We get
Rs.2000 for hiding our face and Rs.1000 for showing
it).
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