The cinema cart

Mumbai is the city of a millions hawkers. Last time I was there, around two months ago, we went back to Nariman Point, one of the city's financial hubs where street vendors do brisk business during peak hours by selling a wide variety of street food, all of which is vegetarian: Vada Pav (noted as the most popular street food in Mumbai), Panipuri, Bhelpuri, Sevpuri, Dahipuri, sandwiches, Pav Bhaji, etc. Although street food is common all over the country, Mumbai is noted for having people of all economic backgrounds eating on the roadside at all times. 

Food cart selling chaat (snacks) at Nariman Point, Mumbai. 

Panipuri and Bhelpuri food carts in Mumbai.

As we approached the main road we came across this children's fair with one of those jumping castles. There was also this monkey with a haunting gaze grabbed by his owner's hand, a young, low caste street-side entertainer. A tired, medium-sized horse taking screaming children for a short ride around the dusty road. And to our right, this middle-aged guy standing by his colorful and decorated cart. That cart in particular called my attention. It was not a vegetable cart nor a street food cart. It was a cinema cart, holding a hand-cranked projector. I was surprised no children were appealed by it whatsoever. It reminded me of this short film called Salim Baba I had watched back in 2006 that I much later found out had actually been nominated for one Oscar and one Emmy and had won 2 awards as well.

Everyone flocked to 55-year-old Salim Muhammad's cart when he pushed it down the streets of Kolkata. They were mesmerized by his presence and his cart, which held something powerful behind its black drapes: the magic of cinema. He inherited the projector from his father and had been screening discarded film scraps that he had edited and made into new movies since he was 10. 

Crowds gathering around him got to forget their worries and escape from one reality to another, even if only for a few minutes. Salim hoped that his children would take over his business when he was too old to push the cart, but I wonder if they ever would. As countries like India are emerging very quickly younger generations are too busy trying to copy the West, and pushing a cart holding a 100-year-old hand-cranked projector certainly doesn't fit in with this new age of a crowd that prefers going to huge movie theaters to watch the latest Bollywood movies (which mostly objectify women and make them look as Western as possible) while sipping soda and eating popcorn. 

I now regret not having asked the cinema cart guy at Nariman Point when did he start pushing that cart, a cart different from all. A cart that stood out from the crowd and no one seemed to appreciate. I was embarrassed to ask him if I could watch a few scenes from a movie that he might have had created by carefully choosing scraps, juxtaposing image and music that ultimately created a different and unique reality, a much better one. Maybe next time I am in Mumbai I will go back to Nariman Point and there he will be, standing by his cinema cart, dreaming of another reality.