SLUMDOGMAS, them all!

Between housemaid Kavita and rag-picker Nevelli, life in the slums is not as dogmatic as it used to be in the past

Gajanan Khergamker Mumbai, Hardnews

If you are looking to capture the essence of Mumbai, you just can't afford to ignore its smells. Whether it's the stench emanating from the open drains at Dharavi; the spicy odour of sambhar and rasam along Matunga's roads; the head-spinning smell of freshly ground coffee-beans outside a Shetty's restaurant in south Mumbai; the salty smell of sea-water interlaced with drying Bombay Ducks along the rock-laden shores of Bandra-Khar danda; it's the smell that typifies Mumbai and its inclusive nature.

Now, capturing smells on celluloid is an art that scriptwriters hone through literary practice. When, in Slumdog Millionaire, a young Jamal jumped straight into human excreta to emerge fully coated in faeces before bolting through teeming crowds to get Amitabh Bachchan's autograph; viewing audiences worldwide cringed in unanimous reflex. Danny Boyle successfully managed to capture two emotions in one singular dramatic sequence: The larger-than-life portrait of Big B and the quintessential commoner emerging-victorious-from-the-dumps... and, managed to capture the stench too!

As Slumdog Millionaire swept eight Oscars and AR Rahman did India proud with Jai Ho, Indian cinema celebrated its entry into foreign fora. Global cinema, which systematically drew us to perceive Italians as violent members of the mafia, the Americans as speed-crazed, mentally challenged businessmen, the Russians as vodka-guzzling submarine dealers; the Chinese as army-men marching in precision; the Australian as hat-totting cowboys on horseback with a nasal twang, or the Africans as a dark lot of drum-beating, dancing Maasaisi, and the Indians as a magical head-standing/levitating lot with yogic powers, shifted its stand. India has evolved from its rustic, back of the backwaters character to its new-age slum-bred underdog who could win a TV show to turn millionaire too.

Modern Indian city's slums or its dwellers aren't as bad as films, particularly Slumdog Millionaire, make them out to be. It's easy to write a script and shoot a film on locales detailing drama as unfolded through a pre-determined script. Sadly, however hard one may argue, a work of fiction is and always will be considered derived from -- or dependant on -- fact. Disclaimers and statements notwithstanding, notions are popularised through media and films being as popular as they can get, do cause the maximum harm.

Thirty-year old Kavita works in three homes, and in ‘shift' work, cleans vessels, washes clothes, cooks meals even babysits the elderly if needed. Kavita lives in her two-room kholi (a modest dwelling) at Sundar Nagari -- a south Mumbai slum with her Koli husband and three sons. The places she works at aren't just workplaces for Kavita, they're home for her. "I have been working here since my childhood. This is like my home," she says.

The salary she draws from these jobs amount to Rs 4,000-odd, but isn't of much consequence considering her Koli husband draws earnings as high as Rs 30,000 per month. Her work keeps her busy and draws what she considers pocket-money for her. Any work that goes beyond 6 pm is a No-No; irrespective of the money it may fetch as earning. "You need time for family too, right?" she says.