Truly, the metropolis, those days for all its shades and colors, was more entrancing than a rainbow. Then, the orange swallow-tailed flag had not taken over the landscape of the city that for more than a century had seen ‘professional promises’ of many enterprising young men like greatest South-Asian Muslim leader, M. A. Jinnah bloom to full. It had been a sanctuary that did not distinguish between colors and faiths but osmosed all, blending them into a harmonious whole.
For its cosmopolitanism, it instantaneously caught one’s imagination as powerfully as paintings of Maqbool Fida Husain on the walls of his residence in plush Cuffe Parade- that urged one knock his door to meet him. Like thousands of others, Hussain with dreams of becoming an artist had arrived in the city in his late teens with a paintbrush and palette. It was from the pavements of notorious Peela House, where he earned a living making billboards that he rose to the stardom of art in this biggest haven of art and culture. I remember, when in late 1983 I called on the barefooted artist at his Cuffe Parade residence, at a walking distance from my residence he did not have even the faintest idea of the metropolitan losing all its tolerance turning hostile to his creativity. Some fifteen years after, the progressive artist who had earned a place of distinction for India in the world of art was attacked by an extremist group “Bajrang Dal” inside his apartment.
Finally, pioneer of the progressive movement in art was driven into self-imposed exile and died in exile at the age of ninety-seven. Notwithstanding, this being a blot on this pluralistic city, Bombay of eighties was a city of many faiths- there was a mix of religion though immiscible, yet there was a rhythm in it that made it get going. Hindus, Muslims, Zoroastrians, Christians, Jains, Buddhists, Sikhs and Jews were an intimate part of its cultural milieu and social ethos. There was and is a large population of Muslim in the city. The oldest communities that settled in this city include the Konkani Muslims, Memons, Ismaili Khojas, and Dawoodi Bohras.
Besides, these oldest communities settled in identified colonies, lots of Muslim from Northern, Central, and Southern India have chosen this city as there home. I had an opportunity of meeting heads of Dawoodi Bohras and Ismaili Khojas twice, once, with my friend Sheikh Manzoor Ahmed, who was on a visit to the city to do a story on Muslim Institution in Bombay for his news agency and the second time with the Chief Executive of the state.
Most of these communities were known for their philanthropic activities across the religious boundaries- thus highly revered. Interestingly, some of the underworld tops despite their thuggery were known for their philanthropic and community development – these include Haji Mastan and Yusuf Patel. Some old Kashmiris shared stories about Karim Lala, – Lala as they called the tall and robust Pashtun helped them in sorting out their disputes with landlords and bad customers. In the sea of Muslims community of the metropolitan, Kashmiri Muslims were not even a droplet, their number could be counted on fingertips, and nevertheless, for their ethnicity, they had earned a place of respect. It was for this distinction that I could get an interview with top men on sending a visiting card.
In huge crowds of the city during my initial days, it came as big reward to me when in a densely Muslim populated locality I discovered a replica of my Mohalla Khoja Bazar. Many of my friends and neighbors trading in handicrafts were living in a Building on 2nd Peer Khan Road, Nagpada.
The long building is overlooking the beautiful Dawni Masjid, with a pond for ablution in the middle. Some of the names, which still lurk in mind include, Mushtaq Ahmad Jan his two brothers, Mohammad Yusuf Khan, Mohammad Shafi Khan, Nazir Ahmad Mandoo and Noor Mohammad. On entering, into the building aroma of Kashmiri spices filling the air made one turn nostalgic- fascinatingly every one of them had become a master chef. Many a time during the holy month of Ramadan, I had ‘iftar’ with my friends. And every time, we turned nostalgic and remembered our pastimes during the Holy Month.