Yesterday, I was stuck in the worst traffic jam ever. It took me half an hour to move two inches.Given that it was 4 pm on a weekday — hardly peak hour in Mumbai, I wondered what had caused this aberration.

Enlightenment came from unexpected quarters. “Ganpati aa rahe hai aaj (Lord Ganesha is arriving today) my taxi driver informs me. Aah, wisdom dawns.

The festival of Ganesha is here again, the freshly painted idols (some of them 15 feet in height) are escorted to their thrones where they will be worshipped and revered for the next 11 days, starting on Wednesday.

Living in Mumbai, you can’t escape the elephant-headed god and his 11-day birthday celebrations. The crowded markets, harried housewives bargaining at crowded sweet shops, the sudden profusion of flower sellers and Ganesha idols being sold at every corner.

As a festival, it’s more public than any other. There are community Ganeshas at almost every street corner, some bigger than the other. They hold emotional appeal for residents and thousands crowd to catch a glimpse of their favourite deity.

Ganesh Chaturthi is a very traditional festival — families get together, traditional sweets are offered.

Like everything else in India, that too is changing. Technology and growing incomes have meant this festival has taken on a very modern avatar.

So there are live darshans of your favourite Ganesha on DTH, luxury Ganesha-shaped bags, gourmet twists to the regular mithais and even Ganesha-themed programming on radio and television.

For a festival that is so close to people’s hearts, there is surely a lot of money to be made from cashing in on it. As I glance at glossy posters announcing yet another Ganesha contest and peer into a box full of designer karanjis (a traditional sweet) though, my heart does ache for simpler times.

Where were you on July 11? It’s a question Mumbaikars often ask one another. When seven blasts ripped through the city’s local trains in 2006, it changed its fabric forever, regardless of what anyone might tell you about Mumbai’s famous spirit.

So when a film comes along that seeks to document this tragedy and the reactions to it, curiosity is naturally aroused.

“Mumbai Meri Jaan” is directed by Nishikant Kamat and stars Soha Ali Khan, Kay Kay Menon, R Madhavan, Irrfan Khan and Paresh Rawal.

The film essentially narrates the stories of five characters, all affected by the events of 7/11.

Soha plays Rupali Joshi, a high-flying television reporter, who gets a taste of her own medicine when her fiancé is killed in the blasts and her employer uses her as a “story”. Kamat uses Soha’s track to make a powerful point about the callousness of the media.

Madhavan plays a professional who questions his ideals after narrowly escaping the blasts. And Kay Kay and Irrfan embody one of the many biases that we have, whether it is against a particular religion, caste or economic strata.

The performance that takes the cake is Paresh Rawal’s realistic portrayal of Patil, a Mumbai police constable on the verge of retirement.

While all the tracks are interesting in themselves, Kamat fails to bind them together or hold viewer interest as he shifts from one track to the other.

I felt I was watching five different films. I am sure he had a message he wanted to convey, am just not sure he himself was clear what that message was.

When a film chronicles such an important real life event, it is important you don’t lose focus in the script.

Kamat tries to deal with too many issues in one film and ends up not doing justice to any of them. It’s a disjointed effort and one that doesn’t do justice to the event it set out to chronicle.