Mee Mumbaikar or Saddi Dilli: A tale of two cities

CULTURE
Mumbai
Remember reviews of music concerts where the writer would end his piece with the regretful, "This reviewer had to leave or he would miss the last train."? The tragicomic comment underscored sharply the essence of Mumbai, a city that, in its rush to get somewhere, simply had "no time to stand and stare".
It hasn't changed much since. And no, we are not talking of people living in pigeon-coop 66-storeyed towers with an army of servants but of regular blokes like you and me. As we move further away from not only the island city but also its far flung suburbs, because those are the only places where we can afford a home, all we can do is sit at home and watch TV or drag ourselves to the nearest mall to watch a film everyone on Twitter is talking about.
Of course, it's not as if there's nothing on the culture scene. But much of it seems forced. Expensive SoBo venues - often built on land acquired at throwaway prices - where the rich come to air silks, baubles and inflated egos (not necessarily in that order) regularly host well-attended concerts and dos. And yet, there seems a disconnect. This audience is clearly here more to be seen than actually watch or savour a performance.
Given that it's home to India's dream machine, Bollywood, glamour is omnipresent. Dance or music concerts, art shows, theatre, cookery workshops or fashion shows, nothing seems to happen without the ubiquitous Bollywood celebrity in attendance.
Does this mean the city has no culture to speak of? Migrant workers have always brought back cultural influences in the form of folk theatre, music and other art forms to the city, which dissolved and shaped them in its own local Bambaiya dialect. Marathi, Gujarati, Kannada and Konkani theatre thrived till the city began changing its colours.
With the skyline, which was once punctuated by mill chimneys, making way for shiny high rises, malls and multiplexes, the demographic changed too - the middle classes were on their way out. And, as they bought flats in gated communities, often a two-three hour commute away, the real rasikas who loved and understood the arts reduced in numbers.
Their numbers may be dwindling but, in what is perhaps a testimony to this love and understanding of the arts, even today people will travel with their families on packed local trains from far-off Badlapur for a concert to Nehru Centre in central Mumbai. Some nascent experiments in bringing such cultural experiences closer to the far suburbs have also been started, but till Mumbai promises its citizens an easier and smoother commute, they will remain just that...

Delhi
If Mumbai is all 'filmi', the leitmotif of the culture scene in Delhi is pure sarkari. For one, this is where you have all the sarkari cultural institutions – National School of Drama, the Sangeet Natak and Lalit Kala Akademis, National Museum and the National Gallery of Modern Art. More often than not, there's some interesting play, concert or art exhibition at these places - events that you'll seldom get to see if, for instance, you live in Ahmedabad. There is a certain sense of having arrived for artists who perform in the capital, the seat of government from which flows official patronage in today's India. Then there are the numerous embassies and high commissions in Delhi that have an active calendar of cultural events.
In winter, especially, the culture calendar in the capital is so full that you can expect your evenings to be occupied every day of the week. Which makes it all the sadder that many cultural events play to empty seats. Often, it is the same faces that you'll see at events, a combination of minor celebrities, retired babus, hangers-on and up-and-coming artists who're looking to network or some who've just come for the free tea/coffee, sandwich/samosas.
As for the art scene, Mumbai had always been far ahead of Delhi - why, the western city was home to the Progressive Group of Artists, which is considered one of the most influential movements in modern art! But in the past decade or so, the capital has replaced it as the first city of Indian art. Delhi now has the India Art Fair, which has emerged as the most important event on the calendar. However, contemporary art from Mumbai even now - especially at galleries such as Maskara, The Loft and Chatterjee & Lal, tends to be edgier and more avant garde than what you see at the Lado Sarai galleries in south Delhi.
In literature, Mumbai was once the hub of 'scrubby cool' - think of poets like Dom Moraes, Nissim Ezekiel, Arun Kolatkar and Adil Jussawala, the sunset world of the Parsis in Anita Desai's 'Baumgartner's Bombay' or Rohinton Mistry's 'Such a Long Journey'. But the centre of gravity in the literary world has since shifted to Delhi - the publishers all have their offices here, there are the universities and think-tanks and, of course, the IIC and IHC pow-wow clubs.
Even in films, there has been a change of scene. Gone are the days when films began with that customary shot of a young man stepping out of the Chhatrapati Shivaji Terminus. These days, the new multiplex films have brought forth a new generation of filmmakers like Dibakar Banerjee, who grew up in Delhi and makes films based in the city. Think of the large number of films in recent times that are set in the capital - Khosla Ka Ghosla, Delhi 6, Dev.D, Oye Lucky! Lucky Oye!, Rang De Basanti, Vicky Donor, Band Baaja Baraat and Do Dooni Chaar. While Mumbai remains associated with the tired gangland wars, the Ganpati Visarjan climax, or the Farhan Akhtar brand of yuppy SoBo films, the interesting middle-class narratives are emerging from Delhi.

FASHION
Mumbai
Mumbai's fashion is largely Bollywood-driven - natural, given that Mumbaikars live in the same city as the movie idols. For Mumbaikars, the movie star is the bigger fashion model. However, this doesn't mean we like to ape everything that a star wears on the red carpet. But something that looks wearable on screen gets easily picked up. Take Kareena Kapoor's T-shirt and harem pants in Jab We Met, which many college-going girls began wearing to class, or Deepika's sundresses in Finding Fanny that are a hit on campuses. As long as it looks casual and easy to wear, Mumbai girls are game.
While 'casual' sums up the dress ethic throughout the city, the degree of casualness changes from neighbourhood to neighbourhood. So, while South Mumbai is the most casual, with women happily going to the movies or shopping in their Juicy Couture trainers, the Bandra crowd is younger and more cosmopolitan. And their choice of clothing reflects just that. There's a lot of experimental dressing – boho-chic palazzo pants, crop tops or peplum tops. If it's in a fashion magazine, you can spot it in Bandra. And so it goes through the suburbs all the way to Andheri-Juhu, beyond which everyone is more or less following trends.
Mumbai's fashion is functional. Unlike Delhi, Mumbai doesn't have a distinct winter and summer, just prolonged hot and wet spells. Therefore, the dressing is either high on clothes made of lightweight fabrics like cotton, mul and chiffons, or clammed with waterproof accessories. No woman in Mumbai forgoes buying monsoon footwear annual. Come rains, and markets are flooded with all kinds of rubber footwear in various hues (neons, pastels, metallics) and forms (ballet, floaters, slippers, thongs). The same is true of umbrellas, which are an important fashion accessory.
Men in Mumbai also follow similar norms. While clothing is always lightweight and casual, they are big on hairstyling but not other aspects of grooming like manicures and facials. From Mohawks and spikes to crew cuts, men's hairstyles change from one movie to another. If an actor brings hair colour back in fashion, it will in no time be seen in clubs and restaurants around town. The same can be said about a particular cut.

Delhi
The one word commonly used for Delhi fashion is bling. The flashier, the more ostentatious and shinier, the better. There will be sequins, embroidery peppered with crystals and zari, over-rich silks and satins, and a medley of bright colours and textures, The point, as any self-respecting Punjabi aunty will tell you, is to spend money and make sure the world knows it. For, despite the fact that all the migration into the city has fast shrunk the numbers of its original Punjabi and north-Indian inhabitants, it is Punjabi culture that dominates street fashion in the national capital.
But Delhi fashion is also schizophrenic. At the other end of the spectrum is handloom chic, best exemplified by the likes of Priyanka Gandhi and Jaya Jaitley. The highlights of this, give or take a few elements, are a cotton or silk handloom sari in pale or earthy colours, preferably from a remote artisan cluster whose craft is on the verge of dying out from neglect. The sari is worn with long-sleeved blouses and open chappals and accessorised with a simple neckpiece or armband and sometimes, dark glasses worn pushed up into the hair. And, oh yes, the bindi, large and luminous, taking up most of the forehead. For the men, it's chic khadi cotton or silk knee-length kurtas with fitted pyjamas, and jootis or strappy sandals, with a Nehru jacket to add gravitas, or a bandhgala, if it is winter. Call it a form of desi power-dressing.
In the last years or so, the fashion scene in Delhi has also seized some of the initiative from Mumbai. Think of it as a fallout of the fashion weeks' war around a decade ago, which resulted in Mumbai hosting the Lakme Fashion Week and Delhi, the Wills Lifestyle India Fashion Week. The latter became the more official event since it had the blessings of the Fashion Design Council of India. A number of A-list fashion designers such as Tarun Tahiliani, Manish Arora and Rohit Bal have their flagship stores and factories in the city, catering to their clientele from quaint high-street shopping destinations in and around Mehrauli, Khan Market and Hauz Khas.

WORK CULTURE
Mumbai
"People in Mumbai work too hard" is a common refrain from Delhiites. Mumbaikars have got accustomed to hearing that. That's because in Mumbai, everyone from the autorickshaw driver and vada pav vendor to the insurance agent and local pharmacist fully realises the value of time. This means that when you are running late for an appointment and tell the auto driver to pick up pace, he will make it his life's mission to drop you on time even if it means taking you through a hold-on-to-your-seat, roller coaster ride.
There are several reasons for this. First, the acknowledgement that time means money, which has a lot to do with the city's geography. Daily routines are set not to our circadian rhythms, but to the hurtling motion of the next Virar-Churchgate fast. Spending three-four hours commuting from home to work daily automatically means you are less likely to squander time – even if it means chopping veggies on the train on the way back. How else can you be a working mum. How's that for professional?
Mumbaikars also have a rigorous work ethic. Because if they don't deliver, there are thousands of newcomers pouring into the city every day, waiting to replace them (probably at half the rate). And it is this collective toiling and the entrepreneurial spirit of generations of migrants to the city that forms the core of Mumbai's DNA and its inhabitants.
But, more important, this is the city where people come from all walks of life and across geographies to explore possibilities and craft their dreams into reality. This is the city they all flock to to 'do' something. They want to work and do not shirk from putting in effort. That forms the essence of Mumbai's professionalism.

Delhi
Delhi, on the other hand, has a sarkari work culture, which proceeds at its own measured pace guided by laws that are beyond the ken of us mortals. You can get work done here – theoretically – but strictly between 11 a.m. and 6 p.m. and only if you grease a few palms, or better still, look for some jugaad. A quintessentially Delhi word, it means appealing to someone, anyone – your neighbour, his colleague, his brother-in-law or his teacher - who could swing things for you. No dirty cash changes hands here, but the exchange is no less transactional for that. Implicit in the deal is the understanding that the favour will be returned should the need ever arise. Little wonder that Delhi's inner circle resembles an old boys' (and a few girls) club, where everyone knows everyone else, and helps each other's children get into schools and colleges, and later settle into well-paying jobs.

POLITICS
Mumbai
India's stand on GM crops, the Delhi assembly polls or the feet-in-the-mouth shenanigans of Trinamool leaders don't matter in Mumbai, where the average person is more concerned about whether the doodhwala is coming on time so that s/he can take the7:42 fast, hop on to a bus and get to work on time.
And that's how politics has always been in the city. True, some satraps have tried to import the darbar-style politics of Delhi and even other areas of Maharashtra, but most have failed and been forced to look for more direct, personal and sometimes even in-your-face interactions. This could have to do with the geography of the island city where tony towers are forced to sit cheek-by-jowl with slums. Even in the richest highest taxpaying constituency of South Mumbai, if there is a Breach Candy, there is a Bhuleshwar, if there is a Cuffe Parade there is a Koliwada.
To explain, a flashback. To 2007 January, when in the build-up to the polls to one of the world's richest civic bodies with an annual budget of Rs 30,000 crore, I was a television journalist waiting for a sound bite from then Chief Minister Vilasrao Deshmukh. He had claimed that the Congress and Nationalist Congress Party (NCP) would snatch the BMC (the municipal authority) from the Shiv Sena. With nothing better to do, we asked Congress workers outside the Chief Minister's residence Varsha what they expected the poll outcome to be. Once they saw the mike had been put away and there was no camera rolling, many said they hoped the Sena would win. "We are from Congress but if the Sena loses in BMC, it will go into hands of non-Maharashtrians. How can that be allowed to happen?" I was asked. It left me baffled. That was against the grain of what their party and even their Chief Minister was saying.
It's true that the large influx of non-Maharashtrians has left the migrants from north as the single largest group. The "anti-outsider" campaigns by parties like the Sena and Maharashtra Navnirman Sena (MNS) have divided the Hindu vote and consolidated the north Indian vote, forcing many to rethink the stridency of their campaign against them. Despite this, "wronged local man being pushed out of his home", will always hold an emotional appeal for people.
—Yogesh Pawar

Delhi
Delhi doesn't suffer from such an identity crisis (some would say because it never had an identity to begin with, since it was populated largely by Partition-era refugees from Pakistan). It's seemingly more welcoming of outsiders, which is why its population has grown at over 43 per cent between the 1981 and 2011 censuses. But, for a city that's at the thick of political activities, Delhi has been curiously apolitical – with the exception of Janpath, where hordes of discontents would descend from all over the country in the mistaken belief that they'd get a fair hearing since they were closer to the seat of power.
And then something changed. In 2006, thousands joined a march to protest the acquittal of Manu Sharma, the son of a powerful politician, in the very public shooting of Jessica Lal. For the first time, Delhiites seemed to want to shape political discourse, to cut to size the country's political leaders. That public action formed the template for Delhiite's support for Anna Hazare's India Against Corruption sit-in in Ramlila Maidan. Thousands of people trooped down from all corners of the National Capital Region to be part of the dharna, to lend weight to the demand for a Jan Lokpal to check corruption in high office. A few months later, the citizens of Delhi took to the streets again and reached even the gates of Rashtrapati Bhavan in their anger over the brutal gang rape of a young woman and the growing incidents of violent attacks against women. That incident of direct action, in the Tahrir Square-mode, bore real fruit since it led to the setting up of the Justice Verma commission report which suggested amendments to the law for speedier trials in rape cases and an enhanced quantum of punishment, among other things.
The rise of the Aam Admi Party (AAP), a potential gamechanger in Indian politics, is also a very Delhi phenomenon, for the way it marshalled the anger over corruption in the administrative system into a political tool. Delhi-wallas took a leap of faith when they voted AAP into power in the 2013 state elections -- sadly to see their hopes somewhat belied by their "common man" leaders.

FOOD
Mumbai
Mumbai street food is not vada pav. Believing otherwise is like saying all Tamilian food is 'idli-dosa', Bengali food is machher jhol and Punjabi food is butter chicken. It's myopic and tiresome.
In this city of seven islands, there's a toast sev puri for every pav bhaji and a Kutchi dabeli for every dahi missal. And that's just scratching the surface.
If Mumbai lacks something, it's consistently good chaat and non-vegetarian street fare. Actor-epicurean Kunal Vijayakar thinks Delhi is ahead on both counts. But Mumbai, he believes, wins for sheer variety."When you go from the streets to holes-in-the-wall," he says, "you realise how unmatched our food is."
True. From iconic Irani cafes to lesser-known Malayali eateries, there's something for everyone. There's also the ubiquitous thela Chinese and the traditional Maharashtrian khanawar.
The medley of post-Partition immigrants contributed greatly to Mumbai's legacy of cheap eats, says historian Rafique Baghdadi. The enterprising Sindhis, for one, lent their distinct touch to north Indian chaat. "It was they who introduced 'khattha-meetha' and made panipuri popular," he shares.
All talk of Mumbai's community-centric food is futile without mention of the Udupi restaurants, which introduced quick, no-frills service. The city also has a veritable assortment of seafood. "Unlike Delhi, Mumbai has a bounty of Malvani, Konkani, Mangalorean and Goan cuisines," says Vijayakar.
Mumbai's cosmopolitan nature reflects in its food. Fault them for sending purists into a tizzy, but not for not spoiling you for choice. And, like Baghdadi says, "Only in Mumbai will you find something to eat even at 3 a.m."
In terms of Mumbai's fine-dine scenario, it's booming but not experimental in the way it should be. While the city has a new restaurant opening every week, the cuisines they tap on are more or less the same (read Asian or Mexican). While half a decade ago, the same emphasis was given to European cuisine, the focus has now shifted to cuisines offering food that is more flavourful, varied and perhaps more saucy.
It is interesting to note that in the last one year at least eight new Asian eateries have popped up in the city giving Mumbaikars a chance to practice their chopsticks skills.
Apart from flavourful cuisines, off late Mumbaikars have developed a penchant for organic dining. This explains why many farm-to-table eateries are doing well -- for instance, newer entrants like Ellipsis, The Sassy Spoon, Nico Bombay and The Pantry that serve their diners food made using ingredients that are fair-trade, pesticides-free and homegrown.
While not too much experimenting is happening in terms of cuisines, concept-wise restaurants are breaking barriers. The newer yield like Colaba Social offers work space along with dining, while night jaunts like Please Don't Tell and The Local are password protected.

Delhi
Delhi, foodies will tell you, is India's food capital. This is where you get the best chaat in the India, the best Mughlai food and, of course, the best butter chicken. Without getting into the justice of these claims -- Lucknow, some will say, beats Delhi hollow in both chaat and Mughlai food -- Delhi, it can be said in all fairness, is a city of foodies. People here like to go out to eat and experiment with new cuisines. You'll find a plethora of eateries catering to every palate, every price point.
The high end, of course, has always been well served at the five-stars by the likes of Dum Pukht, Bukhara,Varq, Dakshin, and Le Cirque, to which has now been added a whole host of buzz-making standalones such as Olive, Magique, Diva, Fio and Guppy at Ai.
The middle to lower end offers more choice and variety of cuisines, as it always does -- everything from Ethiopian (Blue Nile at the Ethipian Cultural Centre) to Naga (Dzouhou), Himalayan (Yeti), Bihari (the litti chokha outlets all over) , Afghan (a cluster of eateries around Lajpat Nagar and Hauzrani), French (Chez Nini and Rara Avis), Spanish (Tres) and of course, the old-time favourites Chinese and Lebanese. There's even a Turkish joint, Kunafa at Meherchand Market, offering coffee and baklava. The eateries just seem to be mushrooming all over -- there's Artusi, a new Italian joint, Smokey's an American style grill, ROFL (pizzas, burgers, etc), Kangri (Kashmiri).
It's no wonder then that Delhi has been the mecca of food entrepreneurs, the best place to try out new formats. Just a year ago, Delhi got a food mall -- the only one in India -- at the Nehru Place metro station, anchored by the country's first Benihana serving teppanyaki cuisine. Cyber Hub in Gurgaon, an 'integrated' food and entertainment destination which has become a major draw, is also a new format where restaurateur A.D. Singh has chosen to open the first of a chain Irani Cafes called SodaBottleOpenerWala.

SOCIETY
Mumbai
If PG Wodehouse were to pick an Indian setting for his biting satires of high society, he'd surely choose Delhi. Mumbai may have given birth to the dreaded 'Page 3 culture', but when it comes to the idle rich (think Bertie Wooster and Lord Emsworth), India's Washington DC takes the cake.
"In Delhi, you have to show who you are. In Mumbai, you have to know who you are," says Artee Gupta Surendranath, proprietor and producer, Kailash Picture Company, and animal rights activist. Artee, who hosts high-end events, reckons Mumbai's glitterati is more self-made. "In Delhi, you tend to have people who are relatives of 'somebody'," she adds. And it's this mark of prestige that becomes one's calling card.
Much is said about the way socialites dress in both cities, and for good reason. Mumbaikars have a more practical approach to party attire compared to their blingier counterparts in the capital. Mumbai doesn't look the other way when you work with what you wear through the day as long as you accessorize well. Clothes aren't a means to prove who you are, and it's this refreshingly blithe approach that is the city's trump card. "If you give people here a Botega clutch at a mehndi, they'll be horrified by how loud it is. But if you don't in Delhi, you'll be considered cheap," laughs Artee.
In short? If Delhi has it, it will flaunt it (the brand, that is).
Also on opposite ends of the spectrum are the guest lists in Mumbai and Delhi. While industrialists, entrepreneurs and people from the entertainment industry are regular features in Mumbai's soirees, Delhi's parties are well-attended by politicos, activists and designers. And featuring on this guest list is everyone's priority. "In Mumbai, people get home so late from work and are up early again the next morning. Parties are for unwinding, socialising and getting together with friends. But in Delhi, people take it hard when they're not invited to a party. Everyone has an agenda there," feels Artee.
If there's one thing that works in Delhi's favour, it's the choice of venues. Farmhouse parties are popular for their abundant space and pristine setting. You can forget about having a farmhouse party in Mumbai unless you're game for driving to Panvel, Khandala and other pit stops along the Mumbai-Pune route.
But as they say, it's the people that make the party, not the venue. PG Wodehouse would certainly agree, would he not?

Delhi
Delhi lacks true-blue celebrities and you can see it the way everyone fawns every time a Bollywood face decides to hop down – which is quite often these days. The politicians, to be sure, do their best to make up for the loss, but with their uncertain physiques and idiosyncratic sartorial choices they're hardly glamour. Delhi has its own band of industrial giants -- think of the Airtel Bhartis, and the Fortis Singhs, but they're hardly the kind to strut about for the benefit of the paparazzi. That job is left to the second rung industrialists, the so-called Young Turks in political parties, and the occasional diplomat, artist and bureaucrat, with their wives and their girl friends in tow, air-kissing with their Balenciaga totes hanging on their manicured fingertips. No wonder, Feroze Gujral is the biggest bona fide Page 3 icon in Delhi, and has been so for the last 20 years.