The film begins with the Mehra family in New York City, US discussing Annapurna’s medical reports with her doctor, which states that she suffers from a terminal brain tumour. On the way home, she argues with her son who refuses to concede to her wish to return to her home in Old Delhi. The son has his reasons of course, which are revealed later. But her grandson, Roshan volunteers to accompany her to India, entirely out of love for his grandmother, albeit with some uncertainty. Being born and bred in the US, he never really attempted to reconnect with his Indian roots. Perhaps, it’s because Roshan’s father, a high-caste Hindu, was kicked out of his home by Roshan’s grandfather because he married a Muslim girl from the same locality of Old Delhi where both families resided. Both fell in love and his father revolted against the society’s norms and values, just to marry the girl he loved. The resistance he had faced back home and being kicked out of his home left him tremendously embittered. Hence, his refusal to return to the home he had left so many years ago.

When Roshan arrives in Delhi, he’s unacquainted with the intricacies of life in this deeply religious, traditional interfaith community, left behind by his parents some decades ago. It’s his perspective through which the viewer sees the characters, their interactions and the events as they unfold. He doesn’t know the feelings of the young girl compelled to obey her father and protect his honour instead of realising her own dreams. He doesn’t understand how it feels to be Gobar, the butt of everyone’s derogatory jokes just because slower than them. He doesn’t understand how the camaraderie amongst these people can rapidly metamorphose into a violent feud. He can’t understand why old friends would raid their friend’s sweetshop on the basis of religious differences. The arbitrary nature of these religious, social tensions is incomprehensible to Roshan. Perhaps his personal history is responsible for his inability to understand what he calls ‘madness’; because he’s a NRI, born and bred in US to fairly liberal Indian parents, of whom one is Hindu and the other Muslim. He understands the friendship between Hindus and Muslims in the neighbourhood but cannot comprehend why they are prepared to renounce their friendships to the hatemongers, who foment discord and manipulate the people’s unwavering faith in God for achieving their own ulterior objectives.

The Kaala Bandar (Black Monkey) is linked to the main plot through themes of Hindu-Muslim relations, the interminable mixing of politics and religion (especially in South Asia) and its numerous consequences. It’s an enigma to the people of Delhi as the sightings of this entity are so sporadic and its identity so elusive that it becomes a legend of sorts. As its true identity is never revealed, the ensuing lack of knowledge creates a vacuum that’s filled by the politicians of religion and religious leaders. It also gives way to the most bizarre conspiracy theories that eventually escalate into a full-blown Hindu-Muslim riot in Roshan’s neighbourhood. They bring religion into a matter where it wasn’t needed, merely to assuage the people who, by this point, have begun to clamour for a clue to the identity of the elusive Kaala Bandar. But the clues given to them are liable to imperil the harmonious environment of the Chandni Chowk neighbourhood.

Similarly, in Golding’s novel, it’s Simon who realises the truth about the Beast and is then lynched to death by the other boys after being mistaken for it in the dark. Then, another boy, Piggy, discovers the same truth and that Simon had known this just before he was killed. But the other boys realise this too late, just after they’ve burned the island down and the smoke attracts a ship that rescues the boys.

Delhi-6 teaches us lessons that are so simple and unassuming that it’s terribly easy to miss them amid the chaos that marks much of the film, especially its latter half. The climax completely justifies the erratic pace, the disorder, madness and how the characters literally descend into anarchy towards the end. Their presence in the screenplay doesn’t reflect Mehra’s shortcomings or quirks. Instead, their presence actually reflects the true nature of South Asian life. It’s one of Mehra’s finest films, just like his previous Rang De Basanti. The only difference is that if Rang De Basanti was a bang, then Delhi-6 was the whimper that followed it, but was just as effective as the former. It was only a question of us hearing the latter amidst the clamour caused by the former.