The streets are wet with the dew of the coming monsoon as Rajeev Samant unveils his latest triumph in midtown Bombay. The Tasting Room is a soft-lit tapas bar built into a high-end furniture store in the city's old textile district. The idea is to showcase Samant's range of Indian wines in an environment that oozes class and cash, and with bottles costing twice the average Indian weekly wage, Samant means it to be exclusive. Tonight the 39-year-old founder of one of the country's largest vintners, Sula Vineyards, is hosting a group from Insead, the French business school, who are visiting India to see what all the buzz is about. Over Samant's Chenin Blanc and Reserve Shiraz, a handful of Bombay's traders and venture capitalists swap gossip with the students about who met whom when actor Will Smith and Hollywood mogul Jeffrey Katzenberg were in town a few months back. "You're so lucky to be here now," says Samant. "This is an incredible time. It's all happening. Right here, right now."
If there's a crucible of the new India, it's Bombay. Bangalore gets plenty of attention for its IT campuses and dotcom billionaires, but you wouldn't confuse Seattle with New York. Bombay is where the nation's first Rolls-Royce showroom opened in late May. It's home to the Bombay Stock Exchange Sensitive Index, which?even after its recent nosedive?has more than doubled in the past two years. It's where 40% of Indian tax is paid, where 40% of international flights land, where Time Out chose to launch a local edition and where Enrique Iglesias played India. It's the hometown of crime lords and Bollywood stars, sprawling slums and Manhattan-price condos, and of some of the hippest clubs and bars from Beirut to Bangkok. And with a population of 18.4 million, it's a world of its own. It hosts conventions for Japanese bankers and Brazilian anti-globalization protesters. It is where the U.S. Army sources its kitchen staff for the war in Iraq, and where your credit-card details might be stored or stolen. It's where club DJs steal back bhangra, the music of the Punjab, from London and New York. And it's a highbrow haven where British-Indian novelist Vikram Seth mixed the sensibilities of Charles Dickens with a little Indian spice to make the modern classic A Suitable Boy. To know Bombay is to know modern India. It is the channel for a billion ambitions. And it's globalization you can touch and walk around, a giant city where change is pouring in and rippling out around the globe.
What makes this dynamism all the more stunning is that it exists in spite of India's political and bureaucratic dysfunction. Ironically, for Bombay bad government may have meant good business. Decades of inept and sometimes corrupt rule have produced a city of self-starters. Sanjay Bhandarkar, managing director of Rothschild's India, says the city is a "disaster" in terms of government: "From that point of view, there are absolutely no arguments for being based in Bombay." But lack of state backup has helped to create an exceptionally able talent pool for employers. "The quality of the workforce is amazing," he says. "Things just happen here, because people have to make things work themselves." Rakesh Jhunjhunwala, a billionaire stock investor based in Bombay, says that with liberalization, the central government has sufficiently reduced its role in managing the economy that it can be virtually ignored. Bosses can now devote their energies to straightforward business, rather than outwitting the bureaucracy. That's not to say the government is actively helping. "Right now, India is like a runner without shoes," says Jhunjhunwala. "But look at that speed."
Bombay has brimmed with cocky entrepreneurs since the Portuguese took possession of seven malarial islands off the west Indian coast in 1534 and called them Good Bay, or Bom Baia. Big talk attracts big crowds, and five centuries of migration have made Bombay the largest commercial center between Europe and the Far East. It's still growing. The U.N. World Urbanization Prospects Report predicts that Bombay?now the world's fourth most populous metropolis?will be second only to Tokyo with 22.6 million people by 2015.
One result of the migration is that nobody actually comes from Bombay. Even families that have lived there for generations still refer to a village 1,000 miles away as home. That sense of a place apart is reinforced by geography and architecture. You cross the sea or an estuary to reach downtown. And once there, you find a British tropical city of Victorian railway stations, Art Deco apartment blocks and Edwardian offices. Christabelle Noronha, a p.r. executive who has lived in the city all her life, says the sense of being in a foreign land gives Bombay an uninhibited air: "If everyone is a stranger, then everyone is free." It's no accident, then, that the city is home to India's Mafia and?in its dance bars?its only over-ground sex industry.
But crime and sex are merely the most salacious examples of a wider phenomenon. Bombay is a city built on enterprise. "Pull anyone out of any part of India and put them in Bombay," says Rothschild's Bhandarkar, "and he'll acquire that sense of purpose." India's great industrialists?the Tatas, the Ambanis, the Godrejs?all began in Bombay. The nation's bankers, stockbrokers and traders head there, too: It's home to both the Bombay Stock Exchange and the National Stock Exchange of India, which together account for 92% of the country's total share turnover, as well as to the nation's central bank. Thousands of foreign brokerages, investment banks, mutual-fund firms and private-equity funds have set up their Indian headquarters in Bombay, including global powerhouses such as HSBC, JPMorgan Chase and Bank of America. The nation's music industry and much of its media are based in Bombay, and it's also one of the centers of the global outsourcing boom. India's Hindi movie industry?Bollywood?and all its stars are based in Bombay, with huge film lots in the north of the city. Meanwhile, Bombay's port handles half of India's trade, and the nation's largest oil field, Bombay High, is just offshore. Such a concentration of business activity breeds a sophisticated, cosmopolitan outlook?hence Bombay has India's best hotels, bars, restaurants and nightclubs. And every day, according to the official census, another 200 people arrive in the city to seek their fortune.
Samant is one of this legion of strivers invigorating Bombay. When he left school 20 years ago, any Indian with ambition and means got out of the country, and Samant followed a well-trodden path to Stanford University and Oracle Corp. in Silicon Valley. Then, in 1991, Finance Minister (now Prime Minister) Manmohan Singh began to open up India, dismantling a creaking socialist command economy?the "license Raj"?that had chained the nation to poverty and stagnation since independence. Samant came home with a mad new plan: to make wine in a country where alcohol was a sin and hooch was the closest thing to a sophisticated intoxicant. Thirteen years later Samant runs Sula, India's largest winemaker, which produces more than a million bottles a year. And he lives large, employing a chauffeur and a manservant, holidaying in Europe and California, and dating and partying almost every night when he's in Bombay. To recap: Samant isn't married, he makes booze and he chucked in a dream job in the U.S to come home. Old Mother India would have a cow.
Samant is a son of privilege?privately educated, well connected. But Bombay takes all comers. To migrants from India's poor states, the metropolis is known as Mayanagri?the City of Dreams. To its slums come people from India's villages, hitching rides and dodging train fares, prepared to sell spicy peanuts at traffic lights and pay $1 a month to live in a tin hut. For some of them, the principal opportunity the city offers is a life of crime?running bootlegging operations, gambling dens, or renting out the miserable hovels in which millions of Bombay's inhabitants still live (see box). Just as for Bombay's gilded ?lite, the city is the place to be. "I came from nothing," says one Bombay gangster who grew up in Bihar, India's poorest state. "Now I have money, phones, cars, houses, a wife and two girlfriends. If you were me, you'd love Bombay too."
The fairways of the exclusive Willingdon Club, where Samant is a member, may seem a world removed from the bars and back alleys of Bombay's slums, where business is done with little regard for the letter of the law. But they are closer than you might think. Samant, for one, acknowledges that plenty of respectable Indian businessmen find it necessary to take minor liberties with the rules. "If you try to run a business 100% within the law in this town," he says, "you're doomed." Whatever your status, it seems, pragmatism is a necessity in Bombay.
Inevitably, India attracts comparisons with China. "I have a dream," declared Prime Minister Singh on a 2004 visit there. "People [will] forget Shanghai." That seems unlikely. India started its reforms 13 years later than China and it's still lagging. According to official statistics, India's GDP growth was 8.4% last year versus 10% in China, while foreign investment was an estimated $8.4 billion last year versus $72.4 billion in China. Meanwhile, the 2005 U.N. Population Reference Bureau Report estimates that 81% of Indians still live on less than $2 a day, compared to 47% of Chinese. India also scores poorly in terms of infrastructure. Visitors to its high-tech mecca, Bangalore, are struck by the fact that the roads are still a chaos of cracked paving and anarchic gridlock, and that software firms feel obliged to build plants to supply their own water and power. To compete, Singh admitted last year, India's cities would require "Herculean" investment, which he estimated at $150 billion over seven to eight years.
No city embodies both the promise and the potholes of India's economy more strikingly than Bombay. If you judge it solely by the quality of its governance, the city can seem like it's falling apart. Last July, when heavy monsoon rains flooded Bombay for a week, the city's 150-year-old drains and sewers overflowed and collapsed, the authorities froze, and 435 people died. Passenger groups say a primary cause of 3,500 commuter deaths a year is the city's small and ancient stock of trains, each one crammed with an average of 4,500 people, despite their official capacity of 1,750; inevitably, some of these passengers tumble onto the tracks. In another example of feckless governance, rent controls have kept the price of many swanky apartments in prime locations almost unchanged since 1940, encouraging landlords to let them crumble?as several blocks do, fatally, every year?while charging prices that rival those in New York for newer, unregulated buildings. The dizzying cost of real estate has in turn helped to push 10 million people into slums, where 6 million have no clean drinking water and 2 million no toilet.
Indeed, Bombay's historic charm fades considerably the closer you examine its historic infrastructure. In a 2003 report for the state government, management consultancy McKinsey & Co. found the city had just one bus for every 1,300 people, two public parking spots for every 1,000 cars, 17 public toilets for every million people and one civic hospital for 7.2 million people in the northern slums. The average rush-hour speed was 8 km per hour and 90% of the city's garbage was left rotting in the street. The government does have an $8.3 billion, five-year plan to revamp the city. But it has had similar proposals since 1992. In April, Mercer Human Resource Consulting's annual Worldwide Quality of Living Survey ranked Bombay a dismal 150th out of 215 cities; Shanghai was 103rd. McKinsey wrote that the city was a riddle. Even as it mothered India's boom, said the report, it was "in grave danger of collapsing completely."
Frail governance does not encourage respect for authority. Bombay suffered city-wide riots in 1992, urban warfare at the turn of the millennium as police and criminal gangs shot it out on the streets, and a string of terrorist bombings in 2003. Weak government has also accentuated Bombay's wrenching inequality. A national budget the size of Norway's rules out a welfare system in a country the size of India. But what money the government has is often unspent or eaten away by corruption. Add in the restrictions of caste, and you have a distinctly ?litist boom. India has more billionaires than China, and the 10 richest Indians are wealthier than their counterparts in Britain. Yet the World Bank says 47% of India's children are malnourished and 300 million people live on less than $1 a day. In a city as crowded as Bombay, that means the stratospherically rich live cheek by jowl with the gutter poor. Million-dollar apartments overlook million-population slums. Visitors to the most prestigious offices in the country in south Bombay run the gauntlet of the street sleepers outside. Director Shekhar Kapur, who has returned to live in Bombay after years in London and Los Angeles, says residents have to confront this divide every day. "This must be one of the few places on earth where the rich try to work off a few pounds in the gym, step outside, and are confronted by a barefoot child of skin and bones, begging for something to eat."
These urban extremes can be hard to take, but locals pride themselves on the spirit of self-reliance that enables them to cope. Bombay still talks about how, when the floods hit last year, rescue workers were nowhere to be seen, but shanty-dwellers sheltered businessmen, slum children rescued movie stars and untouchables saved holy men. "There was a feeling that went through people," says film producer and director Mahesh Bhatt, who is suing the city for its alleged mishandling of the crisis. "We realized no one was going to descend from the heavens to solve our problems and we were going to have to do it ourselves." The same is true of the economy. "On the face of it, the city's screwed," says wine mogul Samant. "Look at the traffic, the bureaucracy, the sewage, so much poverty next to so much money you'd think the place would erupt." And yet look at how nimbly the city's residents negotiate these obstacles, he says. As a result, "There's no better place to be in business right now."
Five centuries after the first Europeans arrived, Bombay is once again attracting fortune-seekers from far away. Yana Gupta's journey began in Brno, Czechoslovakia in 1988 at age nine. That year, her mother stitched money and jewelry into her two daughters' clothes and took them on holiday to Croatia. "On the bus on the way back to Czechoslovakia," remembers Gupta, "we got down somewhere and went into some forest. The idea was to get to Germany. But the border guards caught us." The next year, V?clav Havel led Czechoslovakia's revolution and life there became less oppressive. But Gupta's mother had sowed the seeds of escape deep in her daughter. By 15, she was modeling in Prague. By 17, it was Milan. And by 19, she was sharing a flat in Tokyo with a group of models. "It was a great experience," says Gupta. "I was learning English and making money and when I was 21, I came to India for a vacation, met someone in an ashram and in two months I married him."
Gupta later separated from her husband. But she stuck with Bombay, and the city quickly became attached to her. She did her first fashion shoot in January 2001; by April she was signed as the face of Lakme cosmetics. Today she is India's top model, representing Christian Dior, 7-Up and Kingfisher Airlines. She has her own annual calendar, a song-and-dance show, and is a fixture on the gossip pages. The most prominent of the foreigners who have moved to Bombay, she is far from alone. While the last official count in 2005 estimated that there were just 30,000 foreigners working in India, that number is rocketing. Delhi-based market-research firm Evalueserve says another 120,000 are needed by 2010 to fill the skills shortage in the IT industry alone, and Bombay real estate agents report a run on luxury properties sparked by new foreign arrivals. The reason for the influx, says Gupta, is that anyone, in any profession, can rise faster and higher in Bombay than almost anywhere else. "That's the thing about Bombay," she says. "It's the place of possibility."
Shanghai may be years ahead today. But some argue that Bombay is better placed in the long run. Stock investor Jhunjhunwala says that in India's favor are the phenomena that all developed economies are democracies, and that bad democratic governments, like markets, eventually tend to get their act together. Crucially, he says, India's boom is about bottom-up enterprise and doesn't rely on enlightened policymaking: "It's people who make countries, not governments."
People make cities too. People, and their hopes. Hope is the reason Gupta stays in Bombay, despite feeling sick from diesel fumes each time she crosses the city. Samant says it's why the people of Bombay pulled together and did not lose heart in the wake of last July's disastrous flooding. "Look at Dharavi," Samant adds, speaking of Asia's largest slum. "The place has a GDP of $1 billion a year. Dharavi makes you realize everyone has a stake in keeping Bombay going." If hope is not to turn to despair, one day all those millions of expectations will have to be met. But for now the City of Dreams is living up to its name.
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