Dr Heckle and Mr Pride Beyond the byte | Rajdeep Sardesai, Editor-in-Chief, CNN-IBN Long before there was %u2018monkey%u2019, sorry, %u2018maa ki...%u2019, there was %u2018bhaiya%u2019. The 1979 Ranji game between Bombay and Delhi at the Wankhede stadium witnessed the repeated chants of %u2018bhaiya%u2019 every time Madan Lal ran in to bowl. Ironically, a year or two later, as Madan Lal bowled India to a famous win on the same ground against England, the abuse turned to celebration. In a sense, the contrast was typically Bombay: warm, embracing and cosmopolitan at one level, but unforgiving, narrow-minded, and parochial at another. Mumbai has always been a Jekyll and Hyde city with a fleeting memory span. Madan Lal realised it three decades ago. Now, Amitabh Bachchan is being confronted with the grim reality: a much-loved global superstar one day, targeted as a migrant from Uttar Pradesh the next. That Maharashtra Navnirman Sena leader Raj Thackeray has chosen to reveal the darker side of Mumbai in the last week should come as no surprise. For more than four decades now, Mumbai%u2019s carefree, %u2018bindaas%u2019 spirit (best exemplified in Johnny Walker crooning on Marine Drive %u201CAe dil he mushkil%u2019 in the 1950s) has wrestled with the forces of nativism and sectarian politics. In a city that prides itself on its comforting urbanism, violence and intimidation have always lurked in the shadows. Long before Raj discovered the north Indian as the %u2018enemy within%u2019, his uncle Bal Thackeray had already uncorked the genie of militant
