The sense of something being in bad taste is often difficult to explain. This is because human decency is largely a question of an unspoken consensus. It is, of course, true that Hitler is just a German surname. And at a time when the market is so exhilaratingly free in India, a creative young entrepreneur is, of course, technically ‘free’ to use that particular German name for his glitzy new restaurant in Mumbai. Hitler’s Cross has not only a bright idea for a name, its notion of urban chic in décor includes a flamboyant use of Nazi iconography and colour schemes, swastikas (with that menacing tilt) and pictures of the Führer. The managing director thinks that all this is “radically different”. Such is the setting in which, it is assumed, the Mumbai smart set would “chill” after a hard day’s work.

That trendy little word, ‘chill’, suddenly becomes grimly ironic in the context of Hitler’s Cross. But the irony seems to be lost to the young crowd, from the colleges and institutes nearby, who frequent the restaurant and feel no misgivings about what the ambience might connote to those who relate to history somewhat differently. “What’s in a name, anyway?” is the more-or-less unanimous attitude among its clientele. Hitler is “history” and he is “good business”. Hence the question of his offensiveness should be left to humourless, politically-correct party-poopers, and of course, to the Jews. And there aren’t that many of the latter in India, anyway. What is most remarkable about the debate around the restaurant is that almost everybody — from the police to the average, upper-middle-class, young Mumbaikar — sees the problem as one that concerns only the Jewish minority in India. How can what happened years ago to strange people who lived far away concern today’s young Indians? Hitler’s Cross — and the talk around it — provides a curious insight into how an important section of privileged young Indians thinks and enjoys itself in the city of Shivsainiks and the Supercool.