There are two conversations happening in Mumbai, about Mumbai, at any time. They are equally familiar to anyone who lives here; the words and phrases are well worn, and the content is known, but the two hardly have any points of convergence. It’s almost as if they are about two different, diverse cities. In between them, in that wide chasm, millions of people struggle to live and work every day, unsure if they will see the end of the day alive or as a corpse in some wretched corner, a manhole dragging it to the sea, or on a railway track with the contents of a carefully packed lunch box strewn all around.

Two Different Narratives

The first conversation is about the next big investment being made in Mumbai, the next large infrastructure project that’s almost always a road meant for private vehicles, or the next huge proposal that the state government and the Brihanmumbai Municipal Corporation (BMC) are considering. This conversation is usually a promise of a “better tomorrow” and hands out blithe assurances of a “world-class city” that excites so many aspirations in so many millions of people. Mumbaikars live on hope and a slender thread of luck, after all.

The second conversation is Dickensian in nature or, closer home, Dhasalian (after Namdeo Dhasal), about squalid living conditions, non-existent or pathetic civic services across most of the city, or the quality of life being so bleak that only the truly romantic can look past the overflowing garbage and stampede-like situations on every railway platform and bus stop to declare their love for the city. In fact, this conversation........

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