Arzee,Everyman

Profiles of Bombays rush and repose

Profiles of Bombays rush and repose
A city can dwarf anybody. With its sheer size,its dizzying heights and its many people,it can reduce anybody to nobody. For Arzee the Dwarf,life begins at a natural low. Chandrahas Choudhurys debut novel captures two weeks in the life of a very short man. Two short weeks that span a long journey from hope to disappointment and back.

But its not just the story of Arzee. Its also the story of the city,its people,its little landmarks and its in-house ghostsRanade,the stockbroker,who was someone so in love with this world that even death could not tear him away from the established routine and unfinished business of living and who even sent off a person with advice to hold on to Larsen amp; Toubro and sell India Cements.
Among the living,there is Dashrath Tiwari,the migrant taxi driver in Mumbai from Uttar Pradesh,with whom Arzee shares chai and conversation and who spoke as some people orated,with his rich,measured,and lilting speech,the polished pebbles of his syllables rolling off his tongue.

The constant backdrop to these stories is Noor,the old cinema house where Arzee works,so old and decrepit now that most of the light had gone out of its name,its power. The Noor is Arzees workplace and his sanctuary,a place where Arzee always felt secure and well-defended. Its also where the head projectionist Phiroz K. Pir had worked for thirty years before deciding to retire. His retirement is a source of hope and happiness to Arzee,who finally finds himself close to a promotion he has yearned for. But Arzees story is also of best laid plans coming to nothing as he hears of the Noors impending shutdown,its slow end hurried by the rush of multiplexes. As he says,I set up my own fall by imagining it a victory!

Choudhurys prose captures both the citys rush and the repose well. The gleaming tracks that came all the way from distant Virar,the asbestos roof pocked with holes and bits of rubbish being sifted by birds,the little figurines of people in their ill-fitting clothes standing in slack poses on the platform,and the shoeshine men beating their brushes on the boxes there was something vivid,life-giving,about this scene.

But in this crowded,hurried city,Arzee still finds places and moments to be alone. As he passes the grey building which was his home he could hear the television blaring all the way up from the second floor,because Mother listened to all her soaps on full volume and then the empty school,its blue gate locked by the watchman. Instead of going straight,he turned into a passage between two buildings,so narrow it was almost invisible. It was a wasteland where everyone threw rubbish which no one then cleared He arrived now at a low stone wall,on the other side of which thin whispering sounds could be heard. He hitched up his trousers,hoisted himself up onto the wall and arrived at the top.

In these alone moments,he tries to overcome his heartache and find peace. Love,he had found once until reality intruded in the form of an angry father who could not bear the thought of his five-foot-two daughter with a three-foot-five man. But love is what he hopes to eventually find. And in Arzee the Dwarfs perpetual flitting between rage,despair and hope,lies the story of everyone.