Open for business

Mumbai8217;s singularly gracious civic pride was on display last Sunday evening when, for the first time since November 26, the Taj Tower and the Trident opened their rooms and restaurants to guests. The returning crowds at both the hotels were subdued: well-dressed couples mostly, some families, the conversation low and a shade reverential. Between 8:30 and 9:30 pm, when I was at the Trident, Frangipani and India Jones were approximately 75 per cent full. Several small parties of two to three people sipped drinks at the Opium Den. The atmosphere at the Taj was similar, though at the Starboard Bar at 10:00 pm, there were no families to be seen except couples having drinks in parties of up to six people. Outside the Trident, across Marine Drive, thousands of middle-class and poor Mumbaikars gathered on the promenade behind the press vehicles and watched the hotel patrons enter and exit the building. Families came, their half-naked children stomping around before them. Several middle-aged couples sat in silence on the break wall, gazing at the smattering of lit windows dotting the hotel tower. Some college kids huddled around their laptops. Inside were rooms and restaurants that the crowd would never occupy. When I asked Rahul, a doorman stationed at the driveway leading up to the hotel entrance, if the Trident had been happy with the turnout, he assured me that the response had been very good and everything was going according to plan. 8220;Look across the street. That is the spirit of Mumbai,8221; said Rahul.

As an outsider who moved here from the United States sixteen months ago, I am, perhaps, too easily romanced by a phrase such as 8220;the spirit of Mumbai.8221; Many who endured the riots of 1992-93 and the train blast of 2006 must regard this phrase with no small measure of cynicism. Why take proper precaution when you can count on the people to overcome any hardship with a happy resilience? This, at least, was the take of Atlaf Tyrewala in the December issue of People. What I saw outside the Trident, however, was nothing less than a benediction. By acknowledging the splendour of the building and the gravity of the occasion, the masses outside were purging the structure of a defilement carried forth by blasphemers. It was a show of collective will, of great strength. From my perspective, Mumbai8217;s spirit is communal and kind and its people are especially hospitable. The city is, and will likely remain, a soft target because Mumbaikars would rather welcome guests than frisk them. There is an urge in the people here, I think it is encoded in their DNA, to share this city rather than to cordon it off. Last Sunday night, a police officer at the barricade outside the Taj initially refused me admittance. A young man next to me said, 8220;You want a drink at the Taj? Surely you can go.8221; He then spoke with the officer and I was allowed to pass. Ten minutes later I saw him walking the grounds outside the Taj Palace with his mother. When I asked him how he got by the guards, he said, 8220;I told them I was with you.8221;

There are two instinctual, contradictory responses in the aftermath of a terrorist attack. One is to beef up security with walls, armed guards, and metal detectors. The other is to return, both to the site of the attacks and to the lives we led before the attacks, even if our routines take us immediately back into the danger zone. Thus, the trauma compels us both to protect and to expose ourselves, but, it seems to me, for most people one comes more naturally than the other. In the US after the 9/11 attacks, our mantra back then was 8220;We will not forget.8221; We were like a prizefighter who8217;d just discovered he had a glass jaw, and, newly aware of our vulnerability, we came up off the mat with our fists swinging, looking for the weakest opponent we could find which turned out to be Iraq so we could show the rest of the world how tough we were. In India, it has been different. Indians are veterans of street life in the world8217;s most dangerous neighborhood, and as such, they don8217;t confuse toughness with true strength. At the Starboard Bar, I met a financial analyst, another Rahul, who told me that he returned to the Taj on Sunday because he came there on every chance he got. 8220;My office is close by. I come here for the paper. I buy my medicine at the pharmacy here. I had to come tonight,8221; he said. Rahul was in awe of the courage shown by the staff here. 8220;These workers and managers were not firemen and police officers. If any of these people had decided not to risk their lives, I would not have called them cowards. But they went back and I think it8217;s because of something they learnt here,8221; he said.

After speaking with Rahul for over an hour, I took a cab home driven by Gufran, a 19-year-old Muslim. He asked me my name and then he enquired if I like President Bush. Without waiting for my response, he said, 8220;Bush, he too much attack.8221; Then, specially for me, that8217;s what he said, Gufran cranked up the music and asked if I was comfortable in the car.

The writer teaches as St. Xaviers College, Mumbai