Mills to malls and a growing chasm
The new Parel-Lalbaug is a dichotomy. It has a sizeable number of old residents, but is also witnessing a steady influx of the new, while a rift emerges between these two categories,
If Parel-Lalbaug could craft its autobiography, it would have told a stirring tale of rising and ebbing fortunes of what was once the city’s unique amalgam of manufacturing and living spaces. It would, however, need to work in an epilogue today to tell the story of revival that is increasingly giving the earlier unified area a dichotomous character.
A traditional chawl stands its ground in front of reconstructed towers at Kalachowkie.
The revival, following the neo-liberalism of the era and largely led by
the mill land owners, monetised the nearly 600 acres of land on which
once stood textile mills. Parel-Lalbaug now has the largest
concentration of tall and voluminous buildings in the city, both
commercial and residential, according to a noted real estate firm.
The process that hesitatingly began last decade, when Kamala and Pheonix mills were re-designed as work and play spaces for the upper-middle and upper classes, is now in full flow across mill precincts on Dr. Ambedkar Road, Senapati Bapat Marg and Kalachowkie. Sky-scrapers, one advertised as a 117-storey luxury residential tower, compete with the forlorn odd chimney.
Sandwiched between these imposing structures or hidden behind them are the more modest high-rises that accommodate the area’s older residents. Like Madhukar Khamkar, retired mechanic and folk artiste. “I have lived here since I was born, my father was a Mafatlal Mill worker. The redevelopment machine has brought many challenges for people like me,” he says, “fights within families, tension about the project being completed.” Khamkar adds he will somehow “adjust” in the new flat allotted by the re-developer but will always miss “the atmosphere of belonging and creative activities” of the mill-chawl culture.
Some choose to fit themselves into new frame, others opt to sell
their allotted flats and move to the suburbs only to return periodically
to take in the atmosphere. Like the young Laxman Chavan, whose family
settled down in the far suburb of Kalyan recently, came to his favourite
haunts in Girangaon for the ten-day festival. I cannot think of
celebrating it anywhere else, he says.
The new Parel-Lalbaug is a dichotomy. It has a sizeable number of old residents, many of whom treat the streets and pavements as extensions of their homes, and is witnessing a steady influx of the new, many of whom appear from and disappear into their gated enclaves, in fancy cars. Supermarkets, malls, luxury goods outlets stand along the street and gully market culture of Lalbaug. The latter are seeing an impact though. “We have lost a few of our old customers, business is down by 15-20%,” says Sanjay Rakshe of the famous Ladoo Samrat.
Each demographic set has attempted to claim Parel-Lalbaug as its own. For example, residents of the new Vijay Towers, most of them Jains, have an ongoing battle with the age-old fish market in the lane leading to their building. “We get upset everyday with the fish and its smell. There should be a separate enclosure for such stuff,” says Hetal, 35, home-maker, oblivious to the fact that the fish market was always part of Lalbaug life. Shekhar Jain (name changed), senior executive with a multinational corporate, moved into Royal Residency, a typically chic high-rise, with his young family. “I am ten minutes drive from my office, but this isn’t a place for my kids because they can’t mix with municipality school kids,” he says. Khamkar too says he misses the devan-ghevan (sharing) that existed earlier.
“The co-habitation in Parel-Lalbaug area has not led to deeper interaction and integrated neighbourhoods,” avers sociologist Kamala Ganesh, “The chasms between the old residents and the newcomers is just too wide. In re-developed buildings, lower floors are allotted to the old residents and pricey higher floors to the newcomers. Social mixing is not common. Some societies even have separate entrances and lifts for the two sections (the lower floors and the upper floors).”
It’s anybody’s guess if the two strands will weave into a harmonious whole, ever.
The new Parel-Lalbaug is a dichotomy. It has a sizeable number of old residents, many of whom treat the streets and pavements as extensions of their homes, and is witnessing a steady influx of the new, many of whom appear from and disappear into their gated enclaves, in fancy cars. Supermarkets, malls, luxury goods outlets stand along the street and gully market culture of Lalbaug. The latter are seeing an impact though. “We have lost a few of our old customers, business is down by 15-20%,” says Sanjay Rakshe of the famous Ladoo Samrat.
Each demographic set has attempted to claim Parel-Lalbaug as its own. For example, residents of the new Vijay Towers, most of them Jains, have an ongoing battle with the age-old fish market in the lane leading to their building. “We get upset everyday with the fish and its smell. There should be a separate enclosure for such stuff,” says Hetal, 35, home-maker, oblivious to the fact that the fish market was always part of Lalbaug life. Shekhar Jain (name changed), senior executive with a multinational corporate, moved into Royal Residency, a typically chic high-rise, with his young family. “I am ten minutes drive from my office, but this isn’t a place for my kids because they can’t mix with municipality school kids,” he says. Khamkar too says he misses the devan-ghevan (sharing) that existed earlier.
“The co-habitation in Parel-Lalbaug area has not led to deeper interaction and integrated neighbourhoods,” avers sociologist Kamala Ganesh, “The chasms between the old residents and the newcomers is just too wide. In re-developed buildings, lower floors are allotted to the old residents and pricey higher floors to the newcomers. Social mixing is not common. Some societies even have separate entrances and lifts for the two sections (the lower floors and the upper floors).”
It’s anybody’s guess if the two strands will weave into a harmonious whole, ever.‘Bharatmata tells the evolution tale’
I have seen a seven-star luxury hotel coming up here some years ago and
thrive in front of my theatre for the working class. This would have
been unthinkable in this area, but the change has happened.
Parel-Lalbaug as we knew it for decades together, has evolved and is
evolving. But naturally, a new culture is also evolving, we will have to
wait and see what this culture is all about.
Bharatmata Talkies is an aspect of that evolution. It’s been in my
family for three generations now, and I have held on to it despite the
heap of problems. We have even managed to make it stateof-the-art from
inside. It’s now the only theatre in the city that exclusively runs
Marathi movies and attendant programmes. And, it’s not a favour the film
industry does to us; we make it profitable for Marathi filmmakers to
show at Bharatmata. But I don’t make money off the theatre, I can afford
to keep it going because I have a day job where I teach economics and
finance.
There are two aspects to Bharatmata —the physical and the
cultural. We have tried to preserve the physical structure, though time
will take its toll. But Bharatmata is also a cultural mindset and
platform. My vision is that it evolves into something like Prithvi, a
hub for new, experimental, artistic Marathi endeavours.
textile mills – driving engine of the city’s growth then – meant
that the working class, mainly migrants from the hinterland, lived here
too. Chawls, now a part of Mumbai’s romantic nostalgia, were the
squalid, densely-packed, almost inhospitable living quarters for lakhs
of these migrants. Parel-Lalbaug was the epicentre of a terrible bubonic
plague.
There are two aspects to Bharatmata —the physical and the
cultural. We have tried to preserve the physical structure, though time
will take its toll. But Bharatmata is also a cultural mindset and
platform. My vision is that it evolves into something like Prithvi, a
hub for new, experimental, artistic Marathi endeavours.HISTORY
PAREL, OR PARELL, AS IT WAS
then called, was the southern end of the Parel-Matunga-Dharavi-Sion axis, “an irregular shaped island… from the start of the British period formed a considerable bone of contention: was it or was it not to be considered a natural part of ‘Bombay’?” notes Gillian Tindall, in City of Gold – The Biography of BombayPESTONJI WADIA , OF THE
wealthy landed Parsi family, broker who owned large tracts of land of Fort, Mazgaon and Parel, built an English country-style house called The Red Garden, from which the area got its name Lal-Baug, or later LalbaugTHE FIRST MILL WAS SET UP IN
gradually the numbers increased as the manufacture and trade became profitable. Mills were occupied a vast stretch from Byculla to Parel changing the face of this area completely. “By 1880, 42 spinning and weaving mills had been established increasing… (to) and astonishing 136 by 1900,” write Sharada Dwivedi and Rahul Mehrotra, in Bombay – The Cities WithinTHE CONCENTRATION OF
textile mills – driving engine of the city’s growth then – meant
that the working class, mainly migrants from the hinterland, lived here
too. Chawls, now a part of Mumbai’s romantic nostalgia, were the
squalid, densely-packed, almost inhospitable living quarters for lakhs
of these migrants. Parel-Lalbaug was the epicentre of a terrible bubonic
plague.The fissures of redevelopment
The transition of Parel-Lalbaug from textile mills area to corporate
zone was a lost opportunity for the city itself, to lay claim and
acquire a section of the vast 600 acres to create open spaces and
affordable housing. Instead, the congested area saw an influx of new
residents and new professionals. Executives who now occupy the gleaming
offices find very little outside on the streets that supports their
lifestyle or food habits.
The floating population of professionals has meant less involvement and non-monetary investments into the area. This often pits them against residents, particularly old-time residents. “If we ask for contribution towards a public function or ceremony, they give, sometimes willingly, sometimes grudgingly. But they never participate,” says Madhukar Khamkar.
The floating population of professionals has meant less involvement and non-monetary investments into the area. This often pits them against residents, particularly old-time residents. “If we ask for contribution towards a public function or ceremony, they give, sometimes willingly, sometimes grudgingly. But they never participate,” says Madhukar Khamkar.
Between the old and new residents, often in the same building
complex, there are flash points. A curious Pablo Holwitt, sociology
researcher from Germany studying re-developed chawls, found that in one
re-developed society, the old residents celebrated Dahi Handi during
Janmashtami with gusto, while the new and affluent residents preferred
to watch from a distance without participating.
Those who have accepted redevelopment have had fissures within the family, with some members preferring to sell the allotted new flat and move to the suburbs while others – older ones – want to live in their “own” area even if it’s in a different way. Those who have moved into the allotted flats find that they have to make a mental shift to live behind closed doors all the time, pay higher maintenance and put up with disinterested – if not hostile – neighbours.
Those who have accepted redevelopment have had fissures within the family, with some members preferring to sell the allotted new flat and move to the suburbs while others – older ones – want to live in their “own” area even if it’s in a different way. Those who have moved into the allotted flats find that they have to make a mental shift to live behind closed doors all the time, pay higher maintenance and put up with disinterested – if not hostile – neighbours.
The strike that changed it all
Parel-Lalbaug stretch had the largest concentration of textile mills
when the mill-led boom fuelled India’s trade with England for the better
part of the 20th century. The textile mills represented the city’s, and
by definition, the country’s economic power — the staccato sounds of
spinning and weaving were heard in around 100 mills and the lifestyle
spawned a unique Mumbai working class culture.
The watershed strike called by late trade union leader Datta
Samant in 1982 changed the fortunes of the mills forever. Mill owners,
among the wealthiest families in India, wore out the patience of
striking workers and leaders, and worked out a re-construction package.
Prolonged court cases, debate over the one-third formula (parceling off
mill land to the civic body for open spaces, government for low-cost
housing and mill owner for commercial exploitation), advent of
globalisation, all contributed to the change in economic character of
the area.
Now, it’s evolving into the most powerful commercial zone in the city, with headquarters of corporates, India offices of international companies, television studios, high-end and uber luxe shopping pads.
Now, it’s evolving into the most powerful commercial zone in the city, with headquarters of corporates, India offices of international companies, television studios, high-end and uber luxe shopping pads.
PAREL
Part of F South ward
Colloquial known as Girangaon (village of mills). Reputed for its working class ethos, rousing speeches of trade union leaders, Bharatmata cinema and gullies
Colloquial known as Girangaon (village of mills). Reputed for its working class ethos, rousing speeches of trade union leaders, Bharatmata cinema and gullies
Nearest neighbourhoods: Byculla, Dadar, Curry
Parel (CR), Lower Parel (WR) Pincode 400012
Parel (CR), Lower Parel (WR) Pincode 400012
WHY YOU SHOULD VISIT
A VISIT TO
one of the few surviving textile mills may be worth the trip down the city’s history. Beyond that, the area has little to discover — visit the restored Bhau Daji Lad museum, take in the dargahs of the Sufi saints Chand Shah and Lal Shah, spend time at the iconic Bharatmata theatre that exclusively shows Marathi films (even if you don’t dig Marathi films, walk in there to see how state-of the-art equipment has been merged with the heritage structure).
one of the few surviving textile mills may be worth the trip down the city’s history. Beyond that, the area has little to discover — visit the restored Bhau Daji Lad museum, take in the dargahs of the Sufi saints Chand Shah and Lal Shah, spend time at the iconic Bharatmata theatre that exclusively shows Marathi films (even if you don’t dig Marathi films, walk in there to see how state-of the-art equipment has been merged with the heritage structure).
IF YOU LOVE LOCAL FOOD
and masalas, this is your paradise. Walk into masala gully near the Lalbaug flyover, and learn about the 20 kinds of red chilli powder available. Then amble to the next gully called Chivda gully, devoted to reasonably-priced finger foods. Ask around for a khanaval, the old-style home-restaurant that concentrates on food over ambience.
and masalas, this is your paradise. Walk into masala gully near the Lalbaug flyover, and learn about the 20 kinds of red chilli powder available. Then amble to the next gully called Chivda gully, devoted to reasonably-priced finger foods. Ask around for a khanaval, the old-style home-restaurant that concentrates on food over ambience.
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