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This is an archive article published on June 9, 2002

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Busybee: The Best of Thirtysix Years
Penguin
Rs 250

And, for a Busybee book review, a few stray thoughts, a few general opinions and a few points of view (all irrelevant to the work). Like this book will sell especially well at Strand and Crossword. Most Busybee fans shop at these two places for their books though there are more flashy bookstores in the city. Not that Crossword is not flashy but at least it smells of books and coffee. Like whether what is contained in the book is worth a read or not depends entirely on whether you are a fan of his ‘Round and About’ column or not.

And, of course, on whether you love Mumbai at least one-fifth that he did. Like those who have lived in Bombay, and then in his friend Thackeray’s Mumbai, will see many front-page stories in his columns from 1967, carefully and lovingly selected for this anthology. Those who haven’t been living that long might just get a keyhole, satirical peep into those years. Like the anthology proves what all journalists knew all along but did not acknowledge, that good work is good work and it will find its space no matter which newspaper you are working for. It helps if, like Busybee, you were the editor of two of the three newspapers you wrote for but what really matters is whether people want to read you at all. Like it is possible to write about the big events, seminal (I don’t like the word) developments and complex issues in so simple a manner that even the man (or the woman) in the street understands what you are trying to say, and even spares a laugh, at least a chuckle now and then.

Busybee was an ‘intellectual’ that ordinary mortals could identify with. Like his columns record the subtly changing nuances of Bombay, or Mumbai if you prefer, almost as accurately as news reports do. Sometimes, they are more accurate, have more detail and warmth and are written with a passion that does not usually come to grace news reports. May be journalism students are now taught to write without feeling, in his days though there were no journalism institutes and he learned on the streets of the city. Like they talk of ‘faction’ these days, the new age mix of factual and fictional writing, but he seems to have made it his own 35 years ago, long before the term ‘faction’ was coined. His characters remained some of the most enduring and endearing ones around, never ageing, somewhat disturbing his otherwise genteel smooth life. Who knows what happened to Bolshoi the Boxer dog, sons Derek and Darryl, the wealthy friend on the 21st floor since Busybee left them orphaned last year?

And, this final point of view: That this is a good book to leaf through on a depressing Bombaiyya day when the city gets the better of you. Yes, the book is copyrighted by The Wife.

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