Mumbaistan

A book review

In a compelling thematic trilogy Piyush Jha pulled off an
unputdownable potboiler in his debut Mumbaistan. While each part
stands complete in itself, Bomb Day, Injectionwala and Coma Man taken
together portray the murky underbelly of Mumbai - the mean streets,
the shanty towns, the loves and betrayals of its desperadoes.

One can feel the pulse of the low life, expressed as it were in the
language appropriate to the macabre stories of lives on the edge of
sanity and desperation. Lies masquerade as truth, hiding behind gentle
faces and hardened hearts, in the dark recesses of the cavernous
minds.

Unsung heroes tread gingerly in the narrow filth-ridden by-lanes,
unmindful of imminent danger to their lives, forging ahead to uncover
truth at any cost. Vicious, curvaceous and self-centered charmers hide
beneath lustful and lusterless cosmetics.

Lives entwined in love and death dance, in trust and the lack of it,
in protecting the unseen majority from a handful of misguided rogues -
such are the yarns that Mr Jha spins. Cleverly designed plots
intricate and full of surprises at once captivate and mesmerize,
sadden and uplift, from one tension-filled moment to another of
relief.

There is also some humor, stark and paradoxical, lurking in the racy
pitch of narration, at once satirical and providing timely relief from
the macabre scenes. Besides a deep sense of Mumbai's slums, Mr. Jha
also has a fine sense of humour - pungent and sparingly used relieves
the tension built up on suspense and thrill. For example, a sleazy
character invites the Coma Man into a hole in the ground beside a
pipeline that he calls his Pipe Star Hotel.

Bomb Day is the story of Mumbai quivering on the brink of mayhem as a
dogged policeman struggles to nab the terrorists. Whether he succeeds
in foiling the deadly plot depends on the desperate protagonist who
braves the wrath of the ungodly for the love of a passionate harlot.
Mr. Jha does not paint all the characters by the same brush, for
neither good nor evil is the monopoly of any caste, community or
locality. The bomb knows no such things and the policeman's job is to
prevent it from exploding.

A rogue medic goes on a killing spree at the behest of his oversexed
paramour until he morphs from a humble doctor into the dreaded
Injectionwala. As the plot unfolds the reader is left aghast at the
ingenuity of the tortuous plot and the deadly machinations of its
femme fatale. Fueled by the media, egged on by the faceless humanity,
the serial murders continue until climax unravels truth when the
reader least suspects it.

In the third part of this series, the Coma Man awakens one day after
20 years and falls prey to a series of bloodcurdling events until he
discovers the truth behind his long hiatus. As the labyrinthine plot
unfolds, the reader hurtles with the man and sympathizes with his
mission. A mission to accomplish which involved the lives of several
men, drawn willy-nilly into the vortex of the man with a mission.

Readers & Writers

For readers and writers, this age is history in the making.

Historically, there have been writers and readers in two watertight
compartments, like the producers and the consumers. Writers may read
stuff written by other writers, but readers have always been readers -
they never wrote. Among the readers were critiques who wrote about
what they read, but they were the only exceptions. As a rule, a writer
built up a readership base. He or she enjoyed the fruits of their
labour in solitude while the readers remained a faceless mass of
humanity. With the advent of the Internet, however, the situation is
beginning to change.

Today there are many avenues to write. There are blogs, wikis, Twitter
and Facebook, to mention only a few. The opportunities to write
increased manifold, thus enabling any one with the least inclination
to write to do so. There are no barriers to write: no critics to
satisfy, no publishers to lure, no marketing experts to sell your
stuff. The wall dividing the readers and writers began to crumble,

Readers become writers and vice versa. No group of elite talented men
and women hold the monopoly over the written word, except of course
the copyright on their work. Even criticism too is not the niche of a
few, but open to a large number of readers who are free to offer their
opinion, their reactions and experiences, after reading a book. The
lines separating the writers and the readers is blurring and we are
witness to the advent of a bold new wave of creativity that has once
been the lofty citadel of a few, while the rest ridiculed or admired
from the ground below.

But change often comes not without a whimper.

Whenever a new situation arises in the world there is always some
concern, some trepidation and some form of protest accompanying it.
The naysayers lament the degeneracy of a sublime pursuit to the
portals of mediocrity. The newbies revel in the opportunity afforded
by the medium and apply themselves unabashedly to make a mark. The
teetering humanity in between watch from the sidelines and take
tentative steps before making the plunge one way or the other.