An idle Saturday morning traversing the covert lanes of a fishing village, bundled up in tiny clusters amidst a busy city! Doesn’t it sound fascinating? Well, we were as excited as could be and could barely sit still until the D-day.
The People Place Project is an initiative that chronicles lives of Mumbaikars, with “a hope to pin together the narrative of how we have come to be here – our language, our thoughts, our attire, our structures – everything that defines us”. They like to call it “a mapping project – exploring a city/place with the stories of the people”. Their team along with Vinitha Ramchandani, author of People called Mumbai, were running an ‘Empathy for Mumbai’ campaign. Through this event, we hoped to generate empathy by creating awareness about the lives of the city’s unsung everyday heroes.
Nisha Nair, founder of People Place Project, held a brief orientation prior to the book walk. All the participants were handed a guide with a map of the Worli fishing village. She suggested conversation starters: “Ask them about the different festivals that they celebrate. Where they hang around, etc. The boys typically play carrom in their different mandals and during the day, the women can be seen sitting and gossiping. Talk to them about the food they eat and their clothing. It will be interesting to see if you’ll can engage them in a conversation about the changes taking place – the sea link, the different developments around them.” Author Vinitha tried to ease their language and communication concerns and assured the children that the locals would be comfortable with any of the local languages.
Following the orientation, we headed out to Worli Koliwada. The invisible curtain separating their unique little community from the hustle-bustle of the rest of the city, was quite evident.
Namra, an architect from the People Place Project team helped with a brief history about the origin of the name. “This is a fishing village, different from a Hamlet or Pakhada. Therefore it is referred to as a Koliwada. There’s Mahim Koliwada as well. There’s a village in Bandra called ‘Shirley Rajan’ where they drive away interviewers with broomsticks. They are wary since many years ago, their lands had been seized by builders and hence their animosity.”
We were divided into two groups, assisted by helpful volunteers from the team. Our path was dotted with colorful homes, a few of which boasted of a lovely, airy balcony, lined by shrubs and flowers that skirted the path. In sharp contrast to some of these affluent air-conditioned homes, were several ordinary ones that had seen better days.
As we crossed a Dargah, we couldn’t help noticing that it was rather well-maintained. A shy lady from a nearby house, quietly pointed to her neighbour Fatima, a middle-aged chirpy woman. She claimed that seven generations of her family had lived there, looking after the Dargah. Hers was the only Muslim family left in the community.
We proceeded our walk into the by-lanes and we were greeted with many curious, but friendly faces. A whiff of delicious food wafted through the air, as we spotted the source, a young proprietor selling frankies. He had propped up his stall adjacent to a shop that sold groceries and was prepping up for the busiest time of the day.
There was a restaurant that sold Chinese, opposite. As cycles and scooters whizzed past us, we stopped to listen to little Ishaan in the middle of a conversation with a resident, Prakalp Worlikar, also known as Tito Jackson.
“We all get together to celebrate festivals. Holi is a big festival here and goes on for two days in this area! My father in law lives in this house and they have bhajans during Sankashti and Ekaadashi, two auspicious Hindu festivals.” he continued, pointing to a wall facing the entrance to his house. Old pictures of Gods and Goddesses adorned them. “We are happy with the way our community is. I’ve been here for 42 years but with all these developments, there have been a lot of changes. The builders plan to give us big properties, but that comes with the baggage of maintenance.” he sighed. We bade him goodbye and proceeded along the walk.
We had reached the Worli Fort in the heart of the Gaothan. It had tufts of herbs and shrubbery that had been carefully planted by the inhabitants, and also hosted a gym! Messages warning people against spitting and littering the area, as well as prohibition of photography, had been painted on the walls in a deep red color. As we clambered to the top, we found intricate decorations made out of sea shells and colorful stones along the path. We were rewarded with a breathtaking view of the sea, interspersed by a large number of fishing boats, with the Bandra-Worli Sea Link framing the horizon.
We eventually departed from the fort and made our way back towards the meeting point. In the meanwhile, the other team had finished speaking to a fisher-woman. “She buys fish from Colaba and sells it here!” exclaimed a parent, as the Sakhu bai happily left. Another parent had a story to share as well. “Ishaan met the owner of a wine store and found out that his daughter was a national swimmer.” “She has also swum in the ocean!” added little Ishaan, thrilled to bits.
On the way, we spotted bright young faces (from IES school near Portuguese church) who were dressed for a fancy dress competition and were waiting with their eager mothers for their school van, as they cheerfully posed for pictures. Further ahead, we noticed a number of shops selling and altering sarees and blouses, as well as trinkets and other miscellaneous goods.
Anwesha, an architect intern from the team observed that this was truly a very self-sufficient space. “It is people like us who perpetually crave for more and therefore project those ideas and expect the same from these people, who are quite happy indeed, in their tiny world.”
We readily agreed with her. The sense of community here was so evident and gratifying as people belonging to different religions, coexisted within the same space without any qualms. We had met and experienced so many stories through the lives that had been shared by the inhabitants of the village. Each one of them had enlightened us with multiple perspectives about their circumstances and their own ways to deal with them. They were very happy with their lives and wouldn’t choose to live anywhere else. It was with great reluctance that we pulled ourselves out of that secret haven. An eye-opening experience, the “Fishy Mumbai Bookwalk” was truly meaningful with a trace of poignancy.
– Sanjana Mitbander
Kahani Tree 