The Big Bad City

HarperCollins India

Pages: 432

Rs 699

When the blurb reads,A suspense-filled story of money and power,luxury and deprivation,a rich tapestry peopled by unforgettable characters,not least of which is Mumbai itself,Last Man in Tower opens up the hearts and minds of the inhabitants of this great city ordinary people pushed to their limits in a place that knows none,you know it is one of those books. There is a point of view. A position has been taken. There will be a strong moral tucked into the narrative. The reader is sufficiently prepared. Mumbai sucks. Mumbai is a bitch.

But wait. Mumbai has become a hot destination for expat writers. Mumbai is hot! Just like Bollywood has gone nuts over picturesque Delhi and decided Delhi is hot. These days our lives have been greatly simplified,thanks to the hot handle. Everything and everyone is conveniently classified under two categories Hot and Not Hot. I started reading this seasons hottest book Last Man in Tower a bit too eagerly,I confess. My mistake. Its the irresistible combo Adiga Mumbai. Combine that with spectacular reviews and one goes,Woaaaah. Well,I was still going woaaaah on the last page,but not half as enthusiastically. The reason is simple. As a Mumbaikar,I see Mumbai through a slightly different filter and can pretty much tell when the supposedly typical Mumbai characters turn caricatural.

Adigas story is structured like a television soap,with neatly demarcated good guys and bad guys,plus a Hindu,Muslim,Christian Amar,Akbar,Anthony thrown in for good measure. The book helpfully provides a cast of characters with thumbnail sketches at the beginning,along with a map of the metropolis that shows the routes taken by commuters on local trains. Adiga has dedicated the book to the very same commuters of the Santa Cruz-Churchgate line.

The tower in the title refers to a building which is part of Vishram Society in Vakola,Santa Cruz East. Readers also get a floor plan of Tower A where the action takes place. The plot is linear and very simple. Very. An evil builder called Dharmen Shah is on a demonic mission to demolish the tower for redevelopment,which,of course,is a code name for pulling down old structures and replacing them with luxury apartments,malls,cineplexes and so on. Its an urban nightmare that has been successfully chronicled in movies like Khosla ka Ghosla. Shah the Shark is out to make huge bucks out of this transaction and willing to offer an attractive package to residents sensible enough to take the money and run. But Shah encounters a hitch: a stubborn resident. Masterji,a retired schoolteacher,refuses to play ball. His resistance forms the core of the story.

Masterji Yogesh A. Murthy is the one character in the book that has been completely thought through in an otherwise loosely strung-together ensemble cast featuring stereotypes people like Albert Pinto Hello? Forgotten there was a movie featuring Naseeruddin Shah in the title role?,Import-Export Hiranandani,Ibrahim Kudwa the token Muslim in the society,Mary the kachrawali,Ram Khare the guard,Ramu the building boy with Downs Syndrome,career gal Ms Meenakshi,social worker Georgina Lobo and oily real-estate broker Ramesh Ajwani. Sounds like a promising daily soap? Despite the ho-hum nature of these melting pot Mumbai types,it is Adigas skill at keeping the pace brisk I was slightly out of breath as I read the last 50 pages and the dialogue crackling that keeps a reader riveted. This is some feat,given that the ending is totally predictable and sorry,boss totally unbelievable.

Adiga describes Vishram Society as a pucca address absolutely,unimpeachably pucca. No way,as any Mumbaikar will tell you. He also insists it is middle class to its core,just like the people living in it. Ummm. Okay. Maybe. The only authentically middle class voice in the book belongs to Masterji,as he stubbornly hangs in there,refusing to budge an inch,even after his neighbours turn against him,cover his front door with excreta and complete the social boycott by pretending he doesnt exist. All this to get Masterji to sign on the dotted line and vacate the only real home he has known and shared for over 35 years with his wife Poornima.

Suddenly the safety nets of his modest existence are removed and he is left to confront the cruelty and greed of neighbours,acquaintances,even his own son and daughter-in-law. In a single telling passage,Masterjis despair is lucidly shared with readers: In the old days,you had caste,and you had religion: they taught you how to eat,marry,live,and die. But in Bombay caste and religion had faded away,and what had replaced them,as far as he Masterji could tell was the idea of being respectable and living among similar people.

Parts of the book are extraordinarily well-observed and sublimely written. The structure itself is taut,bold and interesting chapter headings are terse,precise: 11th May to the final one 15th December. In under a year,lives are transformed forever. One life is snuffed out. Several destroyed. There is a morbidity in this Mumbai without a single good person even upright Masterji has his flaws. Sadly,even Masterji is forced to conclude,after reading particularly vicious hate mail stuck with tape on the wall of the compound: But a man is what his neighbours say he is.

However,the biggest villain of the book is Mumbai. And if I am disturbed by its brutal portrayal,it is because I find it a bit too simplistic and naive the Big Bad City. So wicked,so ruthless,so ugly. Thats a writers prerogative. Perhaps thats how Mumbai does appear to those who dont call it home.