The lost city

Once, Bollywood sold us a version of Mumbai that was crammed with people but also with dreams and hopes. Today, amid construction and unemployment, that promise has begun to feel hollow.

- RAHUL DESAI.

WHEN I MOVED to Mumbai as a teenager, it was intimidating but strangely thrilling. The mythical metropolis. The factory of dreams. The light at the end of small-town tunnels. It was a bit of a fan moment: like finally meeting the superstar I had grown up adoring. I became one of millions who felt like one in a million, seduced by the city's screen identity.

The hype was not unfounded. When I started college, I thought of the urban Mumbai of Dil Chahta Hai (2001), where upscale emotions felt distinctly reachable.

A glance at CST station would bring to mind the iconic stock shot of the city as a social construct; be it the vintage migrant optimism of Shree 420 (1955) or the servant-to-celebrity swag of Swarg (1990). When I tried my hand at multiple careers, it was hard not to imagine the colourful media studios of Phir Bhi Dil Hai Hindustani (2000), the Versova audition rooms of Luck by Chance (2009) or the corporate dryness of Rocket Singh: Salesman of the Year (2009). A stroll along Marine Drive and Bandra village after a gruelling local train ride felt like equal parts Saathiya (2002) and Wake Up Sid (2009). A short cut through decrepit subways contained the rags-to-redemption ethos of Salaam Bombay! (1988) and Slumdog Millionaire (2008). The community rhythms of local chawls and the crowded bylanes of Dongri felt immortalised by gangster classics like Agneepath (1990), Satya (1998) and Vaastav (1999). Even if I entered St Xavier's College or stood outside the airport, there were undeniable whiffs of Jaane Tu... Ya Jaane Na (2008).