nala sopara: mumbai’s ancient buddhist stupa and mythical temples
The historical and artistic magnificence of India never fails to amaze me. Take a step in any direction and one is flooded with the country’s inordinate rich past and culture. Which does not always work in its favour for it lends to the Indian populace a nonchalance towards their own heritage.
Medieval sculptures which audiences lust over in international museums lie covered with petals and incense soot in temple nooks here. Millennia old crumbling edifices stand forgotten, holding on to time in desperation in an attempt to evade being razed down. And because they are in the multitude, one more or one less, sadly become irrelevant.
No part of this country is immune to its own cultural excess. Not even an uber metro like Mumbai. In fact even less so, for I have discovered and experienced sights here across centuries and religions, coexisting in uncanny innate ease.
Take for instance the northern outskirts of the city where an hour’s train ride transports me to middle India. In other words, I reach a sleepy, veering between rural and urban neighbourhood.
And what do I find? A 2,500-year-old Buddhist stupa and the site of Ashoka’s 9th edict, a Hindu matha
with sculptures which could pass off as part of the British Museum, and
a relatively modern temple dedicated to an 8th Century religious
leader. 
– – –
The sky is a gorgeous blue, and as the train rattles its way north on the Western line, impenetrable high rises give way to fields which open up to rambling low structures. My destination is Nala Sopara in Vasai; last year I had explored the Portuguese part of Vasai which you can read here.
Nala Sopara was once upon a time called Shurparaka—‘shur’ meaning brave and ‘paraka’ for city. It got its name from the valiant act of being one of the main ports trading with the ancient world of Mesopotamia, Egypt, Greece, Rome, Arabia and Eastern Africa over the centuries.
It was also a prominent Buddhist region, affirmed by the presence of two edicts, the 8th and 9th, erected by Ashoka (304–232 BC) propagating his dhamma. Ashoka put up 14 major edicts throughout his empire in his lifetime.
The 9th edict was discovered at a 2,500-year-old Buddhist stupa built by Purna Maitrayaniputra, a wealthy local merchant and trader to mark his new-found faith. Decorated in sandalwood, the stupa, now a national protected monument was on the same lines as the one in Sanchi. Gautam Buddha himself did its inauguration.
At first glance the deserted stupa, 65 yards round the base and 17 feet high, appears no more than a pile of bricks in a clearing surrounded by towering palm trees. As I walk closer, I see marigold flowers scattered over the bricks. They seem to miraculously turn the mound into a place of faith. A stone Buddha in an altar with a rather odd expression blesses with his eyes closed.
In 1882 a large coffer was excavated from the stupa’s centre containing eight 8th Century bronze idols of Buddha along with relic caskets, gold flowers, a silver coin and pieces of a begging bowl. The 9th edict, a large octagonal block of stone covered with Mauryan brahmi writing, now lies in the sculpture gallery of the Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj Vastu Sangrahalaya in South Mumbai.
The 2,500-year-old Buddhist stupa at Nala Sopara inaugurated by Gautam Buddha
Capital of a pillar which once held up the ceiling
Buddha in the altar, Feet of an idol. The mere presence of prayer flowers transforms stones into the divine
From a 2,500-year-old stupa I take a rickshaw to a medieval matha (abode or residence of ascetics). Did I mention time travel? If not, let me do it now—it’s an intrinsic part of all things India.
The Chakreshwar Mahadev Temple is a 14th Century place of worship on the edge of the Chakreshwar Talao (lake). Though the main temple has been reconstructed, its Akkalkot Swami Matha with the samadhi of Swami Mayuranand stands in a state of antiquity with a tiled roof, and wooden beams and pillars.
The prized treasure of the matha is its sculptures. Part of the original temple, they were thrown into the nearby lake when the Portuguese took over the area from Sultan Bahadur Shah of Gujarat following the 1534 Bassein Treaty.
There is Shiva and Parvati with their son Ganesh and Naga, Gajalaxmi–Lakshmi with elephants representing good luck and abundance, a hero stone depicting the death of a hero, herein a Shaivite, and Harihara, a combination of Shiva and Vishnu with a crown adorned with skulls.
The most impressive, however, is the life-size carving of the four-headed Brahma, each head representing one of the four Vedas (Rig, Sama, Yajur and Atharva). The finely carved features, replete with a moustache and beard are unique to this effigy.
Akkalkot Swami Matha in its unreconstructed avatar
Offerings
Chakreshwar Mahadev Temple’s 14th Century sculptural treasures. Left: Brahma; Right: Mahishasuramardini
Temple symbolism. Left: Kacchap or kurma—the holy turtle and second avatar of the god Vishnu; Right: Inner sanctum with lingam
Conversations with a couple of residents lead me to an unplanned, unexpected detour; the pastel, fairytale Shankaracharya Mandir (temple) perched atop a hillock in ‘pious’ Nirmal, a village few kilometres away.
According to legend, Nirmal was created by Parshurama, the sixth avatar of Vishnu. In 700 AD, Adi Shankaracharya, the supreme Acharya or religious leader of Hindus, arrived in Nala Sopara and set base, further amplifying the area’s claim to piety.
But that’s not all. In the 8th Century, the 5th Jagadguru Adi Shankaracharya attained samadhi in Nirmal; the site was later turned into the Shankaracharya temple where I stand right now. A Shiva temple, it was restored in the 18th Century by the Subedar (a historical rank in the army) of Vasai and further added to in recent years.
The result is an eclectic expanse hung between past and present. Loud painted idols stand side by side with ancient lingams and sacred spaces in the temple. Disney ramparts enclose archaic doorways and kundli (birth chart) readers.
Would I like to know my future? Nope. I am happy to discover each day as it meets me, including visits to temples even Google does not know much about!
Shankaracharya Mandir. Garuda, the eagle vehicle of Vishnu in human form in the outer modern courtyard
The lingam in the inner atavistic shrine
Site of the 5th Jagadguru Adi Shankaracharya’s samadhi, 8th Century
Past and present in perfect harmony
Travel tips
- The Western Railway line goes straight to Nala Sopara.
- Use an auto rickshaw to explore the vicinity.
- The three sites are open to the public and do not have any entry charges.
- The Archaeological Survey of India looks after the Buddhist stupa.
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secrets of south bombay’s parel queensway
The stories and secrets Bombay holds in its folds behind its crumbling Victorian edifices and chaotic traffic spans centuries. Of all the streets which cover the city in a tangled web, Queensway, a road that leads through Parel in South Bombay, is perhaps the richest in terms of history and also the least to have divulged its mysteries.
A two and a half kilometre stretch, the wide boulevard lined with towering trees contains 19th Century temple courtyards, odes to the Indian Independence Movement, stories of magnanimous philanthropy, and an open air museum of Indian sculpture traversing 1,600 years. And if you did not know, you would not even come close to guessing they exist.
But before I reveal my Sunday afternoon’s nirvana moments, learnt through a heritage walk with INTACH, let me first clarify that Queensway is the British Raj name of the now Acharya Donde Marg. It is a road that runs perpendicular from a once-upon-a-time street called Kingsway, now renamed Dr. Baba Saheb Ambedkar Road.
What’s in a name? More than you think
In 1875, the Prince of Wales Albert Edward, Queen Victoria and Price Albert’s eldest son, decided to visit Bombay as part of his 8-month grand tour of the sub-continent. Locals profess the road was named Kingsway because he was the first British royal to take this route to Parel Station wherefrom he caught the train to Pune. Queensway, in the 19th Century, meanwhile, was a private street leading out of Kingsway at 90 degrees to the Governor’s Palace.
Continuing the discourse on nomenclature, Parel got its name from Paral [the trumpet flower tree] which used to grow profusely in the area. Others claim there was once a 13th Century Parali Vaijanath Mahadev Temple dedicated to Shiva here, and hence the name. The temple was later demolished by the Portuguese who built a Jesuit chapel and monastery in its place.
And lastly the junction of Queensway and Kingsway, known as Parel TT, has an interesting factoid associated with it. TT stands for Tram Terminus. Though there are no trams any more in Mumbai it was a different story in 1874 when the first tram [then horse-driven] ploughed its way from Parel to Colaba; there were over 900 horses across the city at the peak of the service around the turn of the century. The trams started using electricity in 1907 and ended operations in 1964.
19th Century temple courtyards and heroes
My first “Ooh” moment was when I walked into a seemingly unassuming lane from the main thoroughfare, and barely a few feet in, found myself in a Vishnu temple in Puneri style, the Vithoba Temple—serene and cast in the second half of the 19th Century. Beauty is often in the details. I looked up, and encountered a gallery on which seated musicians had played aeons ago for the faithful thronging the temple. Another interesting feature is its Islamic dome.
Apparently, many temples in Maharashtra were built with domes and minarets in the past. Whether it was a form of camouflage or expression of secularism is a point of debate 150 years on.
Look up, and be prepared to behold Queensway’s secrets … A
gallery for musicians built into the ceiling at the 19th Century Vithoba
Temple
A Victorian edifice which used to be Mumbai’s Communist stronghold during the Indian Independence Movement
Walking down Queensway, more insights were revealed to me. This time on the making of Maharashtra and Free India, and the stories of two men: Acharya Donde the school teacher [Acharya] after whom Queensway is renamed had fame thrust on him, whilst Babu Genu died for his beliefs and is now largely forgotten.
The State of Maharashtra with Mumbai as its capital was created on 1 May, 1960 on linguistic criteria. But it was not without bloodshed. One hundred and six people had to lay down their lives first. The struggle culminated with the formation of Samyukta Maharashtra Samiti in 1956. The party won the Mumbai municipal corporation elections and Acharya Donde was elected Mayor. A series of talks, and the State of Maharashtra with Mumbai as its crowning glory were at last formed, for life.
In contrast is another hero, unsung, and a martyr from India’s independence movement. His name is Shahid Babu Genu Said, a 22-year-old freedom fighter crushed to death under a truck by an English policeman. The truck belonged to George Frazier, a cloth merchant from Manchester. Said was standing in the truck’s way as a sign of rebellion against the import of foreign made cloth. A bust at the corner of Kamgar Maidan pays homage to his fervent patriotism.
Shahid Babu Genu Said, the 22-year-old freedom fighter was
crushed to death under a truck by an English policeman on 12 December,
1930
Top: Kamgar Maidan, and just another day of local cricket;
Below: Mumbai’s finger licking good street food—fresh lemon soda with
pav-patties
Showcase of Indian medical philanthropy
Parel is perhaps best known for its four medical giants lining Queensway. However, the lesser known stories behind these establishments are just as fascinating as the world class medical services they provide.
For starters, the Indo-saracenic extravaganza by George Wittet [the same gentleman who designed the Gateway of India and Ballard Estate] houses the Bai Jerbai Wadia Hospital for Children.
Bai Jerbai Wadia was a woman like no other. Determined to make a difference to underprivileged Parsis by providing them with homes at nominal rentals and medical facilities, she used her various inheritances, as well as personal fortune to build baugs [residential colonies] and hospitals throughout Mumbai. On her death in 1929 her two sons, Sir Ness Wadia and Sir Cusrow Wadia, dedicated Mumbai’s first independent paediatrician hospital to her—a befitting epitaph.
Another Parsi gift to Mumbai is the Tata Memorial Centre which started off as a philanthropic alliance between the House of Tatas [led by Sir Dorab Tata] and the Department of Atomic Energy [under the leadership of Homi Bhabha]. Lady Meherbai Tata had died of leukaemia in 1932 after treatment abroad, upon which her husband Sir Dorab Tata was determined that similar facilities for cancer treatment be available in India.
Built on an offshoot of Queensway, Dr. Ernest Borges Road, the pavements outside the Centre are piled high with outpatients and families of inpatients who have no place to stay. Non-profits serve free meals and keep the faith going. Dr. Borges, a Goanese, had headed the Centre for many years till constant exposure to radiation while treating his patients eventually claimed his own life.
Sprawled on both sides of Queensway is KEM and Seth Gordhandas
Sunderdas Medical College (GSMC) dating back to 1926. It was built as a
mark of protest by Indian doctors not allowed to serve at Bombay’s then
only medical school, Grant Medical College. Funded by the heirs of Seth
Gordhandas Sunderdas, a wealthy Bombay merchant, the hospital employed
only Indian doctors and professors. Though it is ironic they chose to
name it King Edward Memorial. 
Queensway ends its route today by slicing through Golanji Hill. A hundred odd years ago the road ended at the Governor’s Palace, Sans Pareil, and its extensive grounds. The edifice started off as a Jesuit chapel (1673), then became the Bombay Governor’s residence (1771 – 1885), then offices of the Bombay Presidency Recorders, and finally the Plague Research Laboratory in 1899, later renamed Haffkine Institute in 1925.
So who exactly was Haffkine and what was his story in Bombay? Dr. Waldemar Mordecai Haffkine was a Russian Orthodox Jewish scientist invited to India to develop a vaccine against the bubonic plague then thwarting the city. Haffkine worked persistently, despite all odds, from a makeshift laboratory in a corridor of Grant Medical College for three months, and on 10 January, 1897 tested his vaccine on himself. Bombay owes its escape and recovery from the plague to this gentleman.
The Wadia group of hospitals line the left side of Queensway with the family seal engraved on all the gateways
Homi Bhabha block, Tata Memorial Centre. Sixty percent of Tata Memorial Centre’s patients receive primary care for free
Left: Entrance to the Seth Gordhandas Sunderdas Medical College
(1926), a mark of India’s Independence Movement; Right: Haffkine
Bio-Pharmaceutical Corporation Ltd, the business wing formed in 1975 by
the bifurcation of Haffkine Institute. The logo is Haffkine’s personal
signature
C’est La Vie [That’s life]. A row of concrete benches, the
concrete towers of the monorail, a street Graffiti on one of the
concrete walls by the hospitals
Open air museum of ancient Indian sculpture
Yes, you read the sub-heading right. It was also the last thing I expected to discover because the sculptures I came across, perched atop the Golanji Hill, were the kind of stuff one saw in a British Museum gallery. It is enough to give one goosebumps seeing exquisitely carved classical Indian artworks in basalt lying scattered by a temple wall or enclosed in a little room in a narrow side alley which no one knows about. What makes them more spectacular is that there is nothing remotely similar to them in all of Mumbai.
Firstly, there is the double shivling made of pillow lava within a yoni at the Vaijanath Temple. The unusual aniconic representation of Shiva and Shakti lies atop a hill at the end of Queensway. The union of linga and yoni is believed to represent the “indivisible two-in-oneness of male and female, the passive space and active time from which all life originates.” What makes the shivlings even more unusual is that instead of the usual phallus form, these contain hollowed centres.
Further on is a collection of 13th Century sculptures resting in the backyard of the Chandika Temple. There are lions with matted manes and a “hero stone” serving as a memorial in honour of brave warriors and fallen kings. A Dhenugal, a land edict depicting a cow nurturing a calf, much like the ruler was seen to be nurturing his people he had given land to, decorates a low wall in the nearby Wagheshwari Temple.
And finally, the icing on the cake is a 3.06 meters high, monolithic bas relief of the Hindu god Shiva’s saptamurti form carved in the 5th – 6th Century AD. The effigy, also referred to as the Parel Stele was found in Parel in October 1931 when a road was being dug from Parel to Shivadi. Since then it has been enshrined inside the Baradevi Temple and declared a national protected monument by the Archaeological Survey of India.
I had done this same walk earlier last year and got gooseflesh just looking at it, even though the main grill was shut that day. This time around, a young woman had come to get her new born blessed by the deity, and hence the temple was open, replete with a priest. I could walk right inside the little room and touch the carving. Here, I believe, no words can suffice and one has to see it, to feel it.
The treasures of the Wagheshwari temple [above]: Deepstambhs in the Deccan style with protruding diya holders and a Dhenugal wherein “Dhenu” means cow, and “gal” means stone edict
Below: 13th Century matted lions in the Chandika Temple
Detail, Shiva’s saptamurti form carved in the 5th – 6th Century AD: Parel Queensway’s most magnificent treasure and best kept secret
The sun had set by now and I had reached the end of the walk. Though the above was a guided affair, one can also easily do it on one’s own. All you need to know is where Mumbai’s most prized secrets are hidden.
– – –
The Parel Queensway walk was designed and run by Khaki Tours for INTACH Mumbai.
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3 reasons why the bdl tops as mumbai’s most lovely museum
Do you like museums? I do. Not all of them though. Just those that stand out, whether it be in scale or the splendour of its exhibits, recount a tale which draws one within its folds, or is so darned quaint it looks like it stepped straight out from another world, another time.
I spent this past Sunday at one that fit the last bill.
One does not often relate Mumbai to museums. And when one does, it is invariably the grand Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj Vastu Sangrahalaya which comes to mind. The name itself is a mouthful as is its repertoire of treasures. But there is another that is just as inimitable, albeit in an altogether different way—reminiscent of a large Victorian doll house brimming with charm and pretty things. It is the Dr. Bhau Daji Lad Museum in Byculla.
Three things set the second one apart and place it firmly as Mumbai’s most lovely repository: Its restored stunning Victorian edifice, a bevy of vibrant clay models which transform the place into a magical fantasy, and its exquisite collection of decorative arts which showcase India’s rich heritage. Quite a heady mix!
Read on to know more.
Raison d’être 1: The Building—“Hall of Wonder”
It was the year 1850 and the Industrial Revolution was at its peak. Preparations were underway for the first “Great Exhibition of the Works of Industry of all Nations” to be held in London’s Crystal Palace in 1851—the brainchild of Prince Albert, Queen Victoria’s consort, to present industrial arts and crafts of Britain’s colonies to the world, and thereby promote their trade. This trend soon spread to other European countries. India, and in particular, the Bombay Presidency, as the jewel of the British Raj, was to be a key contributor to these collections.
Duplicates of the products sent were made and housed in the Town Barracks in 1855 under the alias Central Museum of Natural History, Economy, Geology, Industry and Arts. Three years later, when the Crown took over direct rule of India from the East India Company, it was decided the first important public building to be built would be a museum. It would house the collection at the Barracks and be dedicated to Queen Victoria.
The Queen expressed her desire to have her consort’s name added to the title, and hence Mumbai’s oldest museum, and the country’s third oldest, started off as the Victoria & Albert Museum, Bombay, in 1872, evocative of its namesake in London. It was renamed Dr. Bhau Daji Lad Museum in 1975 in honour of the man most persuasive in raising funds for its construction.
Built in the Grand Renaissance Revival style, intended as a “Hall of Wonder,” the structure is a unique example of 19th Century architecture and Victorian England in India, filled with Corinthian capitals and columns, Minton tiled floors, wrought iron railings, and etched glass imported from England, and 23-carat gold gilding by Vasai artisans. By 1997, however, much of it had fallen into ruins.
What one sees today is the result of intensive research and meticulous conservation by INTACH experts stemming from a tripartite agreement between Mumbai’s Municipal Corporation, Jamnalal Bajaj Foundation, and INTACH in February, 2003. The restoration project, five years in the making, was awarded the UNESCO Asia Pacific Heritage Award of Excellence for Conservation. Rightly so, as the below photographs reveal.
[Note: Click on any of the below images and it will start a slide show.]
![Ever wondered what happened to the Kala Ghoda [Black Horse] of Mumbai’s Fort district. The equestrian statue of King Edward VII, which once enjoyed pride of place on the old Esplanade Road, is now installed in the museum lawns together with the gas lamp that once stood by the Metro Cinema and the 6th century “elephanta” from Elephanta Caves.](https://i0.wp.com/ramaarya.blog/wp-content/uploads/2016/12/bdlmuseum_building81.jpg?w=190&h=190&crop=1&ssl=1)
![Dr. Bhau Daji Lad [Ramakrishna Vitthal Lad], after whom the museum was renamed in 1975 was the first Indian Sheriff of Mumbai, a philanthropist, historian, physician, surgeon and secretary of the founding Museum Committee (1822 – 74).](https://i0.wp.com/ramaarya.blog/wp-content/uploads/2016/12/bdlmuseum_building5.jpg?w=190&h=190&crop=1&ssl=1)
Raison d’être 2: Miniature Clay Models of the People of Mumbai
Inside the museum’s celadon green walls filled with 23-carat gold gilded Corinthian pillars and elegant chandeliers is its extraordinary collection of miniature clay models and dioramas of the “Mumbaikar.” Extraordinary, for there is no other equivalent to this in thematic range or numbers anywhere else in the world, to the extent that the models are now almost synonymous with the museum.
The models and dioramas, made in the early 1900s, served a significant purpose. They were crafted to document the life and culture of late 19th Century up to early 20th Century Mumbai and its people in detail, not just as a source of reference for the British rulers, but also for the local populace to associate with.
Since the 16th Century, first on invitation by the East India Company and later on their own, Mumbai has been a melting pot of people from all over the country—and often as far away as Baghdad and Iran—each trying out their luck in the “maximum city.”
The first floor is dedicated to the celebration of Mumbai’s eclectic ethnicity: The Mumbaikars’ dresses, traditions, games, past-times, gods and goddesses, and occupations are recounted in vivid detail, amongst maps and ship models. Dioramas, meanwhile, highlight before and after scenarios in the British Raj’s effort to “educate” the Indians of the benefits of paved roads, welled water, and planned housing. In the ground floor, otherwise dedicated to the industrial arts, the clay models again sneak their way in. This time they demonstrate the production processes behind each art form.
E.R. Fern and C.L. Burns, the museum’s first curators, who were also principals of the Sir J.J. School of Art, brought in a clay modeller from Lucknow [who was assisted by the art students], to create these colourful portrayals on show and a world in themselves. As a result, in our everyday 21st Century we get to have a dekko into the life and people of Mumbai a 100 odd years ago. And to also realise, nothing much has changed.
[Note: Click on any of the below images and it will start a slide show.]
Raison d’être 3: India’s Fine and Decorative Arts Heritage
Like its namesake in London, the museum’s original collection, now in the Industrial Arts Gallery in the ground floor, comprises objets d’art. The copies of the exhibits sent to the Paris Universal Exhibition in 1855 [though the term “copies” is a harsh one to use, for what is on display here are no less worthy in quality or appearance] cover the rich gamut of India’s heritage in decorative arts and design. But there is a twist, for the indigenous art styles display a strong European and Anglicised influence, both thematically and in form, to cater to their foreign market during that period.
Where does one start? Take for instance ivory carving which centred around Mysore and Trivandrum. The ivory figurines portray European faces, motifs, and flowing hair and robes to an “imaginary” breeze in line with European aesthetics. In sandal wood carving, likewise, Christian cannons guide the depiction of Hindu deities. A wonderful example is of Parvati and Ganesh standing akin to a Virgin Mary and Jesus.
And then there are the art products made from bison horn. In the allocated cabinet is a fantastical carved European lamp stand decorated with Indian embellishments: a cobra. Or the foot warmer in Bidri, an art style from Bidar in Karnataka, introduced from Persia in the 14th Century made for a wealthy patron. In Bidri, pure silver is inlaid against a black background made of zinc and copper to create delicate decorative patterns.
Some art products, nonetheless, retained their authenticity in form and style all the way taking the shape of generic jars and trinket boxes. These include enamelling, lac ware from Sind, Koftagiri in which silver and gold wire are inlaid in complex and intricate patterns, and miniature painting of the Indian Ragas, rightfully called Ragamala painting.
The above, I assure you, are just the tip of the industrial arts collection which brims over with each piece more exotic than the other, and once upon a time had collectively fed into Europe’s fascination for Orientalism.
[Note: Click on any of the below images and it will start a slide show.]
![Foot warmer, Bidri: Bidri work is black in colour, never fades or rusts, and is inlaid with silver. The alloy used in making Bidri comprises tin and copper in a proportion of 24:1. It was introduced into India [Bidar, Karnataka] from Persia in the 14th Century.](https://i0.wp.com/ramaarya.blog/wp-content/uploads/2016/12/bdlmuseum_artefacts1.jpg?w=190&h=190&crop=1&ssl=1)
– – –
In conclusion, Dear Reader, three reasons to make sure you add Mumbai’s loveliest museum, the Dr. Bhau Daji Lad Museum, to your bucket list. I hope you are as enamoured by it as I was.
Travel tips:
- Address: Veer Mata Jijabai Bhosale Udyan [Rani Baug], 91/A, Dr. Babasaheb Ambedkar Road, Byculla East, Mumbai.
- Free public tours are conducted every weekend by a member of the
curatorial team. No prior registration is required, enquire at the
Ticket Counter for details or to sign-up. [Note: This is what I attended
during my visit]
- Timings for tours: Every Saturday and Sunday: 11:30 am – English; 12:30 pm – Hindi/ Marathi.
- Museum timings: Thursday to Tuesday, 10:00 am to 6:00 pm; Last ticket sold at 5:30 pm. Closed on Wednesdays and certain public holidays.
- Ticket: INR 10 for Indians; INR 100 for foreigners.
- Photography is allowed inside [without flash, and non-commercial].
the 158-year-old whimsical parish church on pali hill, bandra: st. anne’s
This week I want to share with you a little gem in my neighbourhood in Mumbai.
I live in Bandra on a hillock called Mount Mary. Around me, literally, are an abundance of historical churches, of which three stand out. Across the road is St. Stephen’s Church built in 1845 by wealthy English entrepreneurs who made Bandra their home during the British Raj. A couple of hundred yards away is the legendary Roman Catholic Basilica of Our Lady of the Mount (1904), the locus of the Bandra Fair and a place of spiritual refuge and comfort for people of all faiths. Down the hill is Bandra’s oldest church which transposes one to Goa with its whitewashed Portuguese facade—St. Andrew’s Church—dating back to 1575.
And for long [in my case] and for many [including me] these three comprised the Christian heritage of Bandra. But there is more. There is always more!
Before Bollywood decided to make the neighbourhood a home for its stars and star directors, Bandra was a thickly wooded cluster of villages replete with small bungalows topped with tiled roofs, and mud pathways. These villages were: Sherly, Malla, Rajan, Kantwady, Waroda, Ranwar, Boran, Pali, and Chuim.
Nestled in their midst, on another hillock by the name of Pali Hill at the other end of Bandra, was once perched a small chapel called St. Anne’s. It was built by Reverend Father Diogo Gabriel da Silva of Sherly Village in 1858 who used his personal funds to both construct and maintain it “for the spiritual welfare of the people of the neighbouring villages.”
Thirty years on, the chapel started to deteriorate. This time a Mr. Manoel Gonsalves of Malla Village chose to pay for its renovation and enlargement, as well as personally supervise the works. St. Anne’s Chapel opened its doors, prettier and a wee bit bigger, in 1896. The villagers expressed their gratitude with a permanent grave for Mr. Gonsalves inside the edifice.
But there was one more metamorphosis the chapel still had to go through. In 1938, it was razed to the ground and a new building was put up in its place by Father Scipiao Braganza and his parishioners. In 1943 the little chapel on the hill came into its own and became an independent Parish Church.
St. Anne’s Parish Church, for the Bandra community, by the Bandra community
Right: A plaque by the main door of the church documents the
contribution of Rev. Gabriel da Silva of Sherly Village (1858), Mr.
Manoel Gonsalves of Malla Village (1896), and the Bandra community
(1938) towards building St. Anne’s Church
I had often heard about the church. It was where the local Bandra-ites in and around Pali Hill got married, baptised, and buried. As a community, they gathered in its prayer groups and studied the Bible in their search for answers to life.
Last weekend, I decided to make the journey from my hillock, to the Pali one. As expected there was a wedding ceremony on with men in silk suits, women in saris, and impatient children. Above the lilting hymns and baritone sermon, the church rose, serene and simple into the blue skies.
St. Anne’s Church is neither grand, nor breathtakingly beautiful. It is instead charming, peaceful and quaint, built by the community, for the community over the past 158 years.
The church is dedicated, as its name states, to St. Anne of David’s house and line—Anne is the Greek adaptation of the Hebrew name Hannah. So who was St. Anne? She was the mother of Mary and grandmother of Jesus. She is also credited with the Immaculate Conception, before Mary. After years of childlessness, she and her husband Joachim were visited by an angel who told them they would conceive a child. Anne promised to dedicate this child to God’s service. The Feast of St. Anne is celebrated with much pomp and merriment each year on 26 July in St. Anne’s Church.
At the base of the steps leading to the main door stands a poignant sculpture of Our Lady of Sorrows, the Virgin Mary in a mournful state with her heart pierced by a dagger. It was gifted to the church by the Fonsecas from their private chapel, the Chapel of Our Lady of Calvary which was built in 1890. [The Chapel is now in ruins.] Local residents of Bandra have spent many a trip uphill to light candles and pray to Our Lady of Sorrows when it was housed in the Calvary Chapel.
Other highlights to look out for are the replica of the Lourdes Grotto which greets the faithful at the gate, wall plaques dedicated to Father Diogo Gabriel da Silva and Manoel Gonsalves, and the brightly painted statue of St. Anne. A renovated choir loft, dazzling stained-glass windows, and the Adoration Chapel, albeit pretty recent, are the contribution of Father John Lobo (2001 – 2008).
Joe, who is responsible for taking care of the church and its
properties, fondly pointed out “Changing water into wine” and “Healing
the lame man” as his favourite stained glass windows whilst he showed me
around. And now, having seen them, they are mine too.
So dear reader, next time you perchance are in Bandra, do visit St.
Anne’s Parish Church to get a feel of Bandra, the way it was and is, for
its local populace born and bred in its lanes. Don’t wait for three
years like I did to travel to the hillock on the other side. 
St. Bernadette kneeling in prayer in front of the Virgin Mary, Lourdes Grotto replica at the main gate
The shrine of St. Roque, patron of incurable illnesses, is
dedicated to those who died in the Bubonic Plague, 1897, and was built
by the Malla St. Roque Association
12 stained glass windows line the church walls, each depicting a
Miracle of Jesus; Above: Changing water into wine, and Healing the lame
man
This effigy of St. Anne is believed to date back to the original chapel built in 1858
Top: Inner peace; Bottom Left: I was here, at the gravestone of Roza Maria da Silva, 1860; Bottom Right: The church tower
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Note: For further information about St. Anne’s Church you could visit their site here.
Photography for this post was allowed with kind permission from the church parish offices.
If you’d like to read my other posts on Bandra wherein I write about its much touted street art and the churches around the hillock I live on, check out my Exploring Bombay page.
a self-guided walk through mumbai’s iconic business district: ballard estate
Though an avid proponent for guided walks, I love self-guided walks just that tad bit more. They are like a treasure hunt filled with the thrill of discovery! Don’t you agree? As one decodes a route and identifies details, a place takes on an added meaning. From then on, it is never just another precinct, another site, discovered and rapidly forgotten. You start to recognise its finer nuances, unveil layers, and imbibe a bit of its soul. Such was how I explored Ballard Estate a few days ago.
To many in Bombay aka Mumbai, Ballard Estate is just another business district, the chief differentiator being “London-like.” London-like? Yes, that’s the catch word!
Whilst the rest of the city, and in particular, the adjoining Fort area is Victorian-Gothic in style, with its associated chaos, Ballard Estate is serene and uniform. A meticulously planned, purpose-built district by Bombay Port Trust, Ballard Estate is the coming together of two urbanisation concepts in the period between 1914 to 1918. These are: 1) Twenty-two acres of reclaimed land using excavated rock and soil from the creation of Alexandra Dock, and 2) the aesthetic design sense of architect George Wittet.
The result is a piece of English Edwardian Neo-Classical architecture housing offices of shipping companies and iconic Indian enterprises, frozen in a time capsule a hundred years old. Ballard Estate, named after the Trust’s founding chairperson, John Alex Ballard, is the city’s first elitist business district and paved the way for Bombay’s growth as India’s global commercial centre.
The precinct is best explored on foot, on a Saturday afternoon, sans
the office crowd and traffic. Instead you will have youth playing
cricket matches bang in the middle of the streets for company, and be
able to get a table at the famed Britannia & Company without much
ado. Add to that a leisurely stroll steeped in heritage and you have a
pretty good mix.
Starting Point: Grand Hotel, Corner SS Ramgulam Road, Walchand Hirachand Road
Built in 1926 by Shapurji Sorabji Engineer, the colonial Grand Hotel
is one of the two which formed part of the original precinct plan. The
place to stay for the rich and famous in the 1930s to 1950s, it was
designed by George Wittet, Mumbai’s most celebrated architect at that
time—Wittet also designed the Gateway of India and Prince of Wales
Museum, now the Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj Vastu Sangrahalaya.
Stop 2: Karfule Petrol Pump, SS Ramgulam Road
Further down the road lined with huge banyan trees is the whitewashed
art deco Karfule Petrol Pump. It was built in 1938 by Caltex and has
been run by the Sequeira family since its inception. If you get a
chance, do have a quick dekko at the original Terrazzo art deco flooring
in the office. It is lovely.
Stop 3: Britannia & Company Restaurant, SS Ramgulam Road
The 1923 Iranian restaurant
founded and run by the Kohinoor family is Ballard Estate’s, and in fact
South Bombay’s, jewel in the crown. Virtually unchanged from when it
was set up 93 years ago by Rashid Kohinoor, its peeling paint, crystal
chandeliers and Polish Brentwood furniture is evocative of another era.
Britannia’s signature dishes: Berry Pulav, Caramel Custard, and Rosy
Raspberry. The restaurant is closed on Sundays.
Stop 4: Darabshaw House, N Morarji Road
If you were not rich and famous around 60 years ago, you would most probably not have been able to land a room at the Grand Hotel. Plan B would be a room at the Regent Hotel which was once housed in Darabshaw House, the lovely edifice to your left as you face the WW1 Memorial, and now an office building.
Stop 5: World War 1 Memorial, Corner of SS Ramgulam Road and N Morarji Road
A Doric sandstone column, decorated with brass plaques on three sides, stands in silent homage to the role of the Bombay Port Trust during WW1 (1914 – 1918) and its employees who died whilst serving the allied forces. A plaque reminds us: “1,870,000 troops and personnel embarked and disembarked at the docks … and 2,228,000 tons of military stores were shipped from the port.”
Stop 6: Hamilton Studios, N Morarji Road
Turn left into N Morarji Road at the WW1 Memorial.
Bombay’s oldest photo studio, Hamilton Studios was set up by Sir Victor Sassoon in 1928 as the official photographer of the Bombay Presidency, and bought over in the 1950s by Ranjit Madhavji. The Who’s Who of Bombay’s modern history have had their official portraits taken here: from British royalty to the lords and ladies of the Raj, to India’s founding industrialists to its Bollywood stars. If you would like one taken, it starts at Rs. 2,500 per picture.
Walk down the road and at the end turn right into Walchand Hirachand Road.
Stop 7: Ballard Pier, Walchand Hirachand Road
Ballard Pier was the main passenger ship terminal of Alexandra Dock. Now
called Indira Dock, its earlier name was in honour of Princess
Alexandra, the youngest granddaughter of King George V and Queen Mary.
During the British Raj, Ballard Pier used to have a railway station
called “Mole” where British troops could catch trains straight to
different parts of the country. INS Vikrant, the Indian Navy’s first
aircraft carrier was parked at this pier before it was dismantled in
2014 after 71 years of use.
Stop 8: Mackinnon, Mackenzie & Co. and Marshall & Sons, S Vallabhdas Road
Walchand Hirachand Road turns 90 degrees into S Vallabhdas Road, a leafy
avenue lined with imposing structures. The Ballard Bunder, now a small
naval museum, Mumbai Port Trust Headquarters, New Customs House, and
Mint House, residence of Mumbai Mint, are all located here.
Two buildings in particular, one at each end of the street, take you back a hundred years and into London in a flash. The first is the sandstone Mackinnon, Mackenzie & Co. offices (1920), a leading shipping firm during the British Raj, and the very first edifice to be built in Ballard Estate. The company was founded in 1847 in Calcutta by two Scotsmen. The second, at the other end, is the domed Marshall & Sons building [the Indian offices of the British engineering firm]. It was built in 1905 in the Edwardian Baroque style and is topped with statues of Britannia holding a trident, the company’s emblem, and seated lions.
Stop 9: Mumbai Port Trust, S Vallabhdas Road
A key player in the emergence of Bombay as the commercial capital of
India was the Bombay Port Trust (BPT), now Mumbai Port Trust, set up as a
corporation on 26 June, 1873. Its founding chairman was Colonel Ballard
after whom the Estate is named. The headquarters of BPT on S Vallabhdas
Road, designed by George Wittet, is notable for its two boats carved on
the basalt facade making for an interesting detail.
Once you reach the end of S Vallabhdas Road, turn back on the same road and take the first left into R Kamani Road.
Stop 10: The Prince of Wales Seamen’s Club, R Kamani Road
The Prince of Wales Seamen’s Club
dates back to 1837 when the Bombay Sailor Friends Association started
at Dhobitalao. The current building, to your left, was opened by H R H
The Prince of Wales, on 20 November, 1921. The Club aims “To provide for
the accommodation, recreation, and general welfare of seafarers of all
ranks and nationalities that are either in Port or transiting through
Mumbai.”
Stop 11 and 12: Neville House and St. John the Evangelist Church, R Kamani Road
As you walk further down you pass Neville House to your right, the
original offices of Bombay Dyeing, established in 1879 and the flagship
company of the Wadia Group.
The Wadia Group was founded by Loeji Nusserwanjee Wadia in 1736 when he
set up a marine construction company to build ships for the British.
Wadia was one of India’s first master shipbuilders and a pioneer of the
global shipbuilding industry.
Ahead, in a narrow side lane by the name of Goa Street is St. John the Evangelist Church, a nondescript yet peaceful place of worship built in 1963. The church is closed in the afternoons and opens for prayers in the mornings and evenings.
Ending Point: Construction House, corner R Kamani Road, Walchand Hirachand Road
Located at the end of R Kamani Road, Construction House was built by the
Walchand Group founded by industrialist Walchand Hirachand Doshi (1882 –
1953). Doshi set up India’s first modern shipyard, aircraft factory and
car factory, amongst others. Look up, and you will notice panels of
fine carvings in the art deco style depicting construction scenes.
And with this we come to the end of the walk, a wee bit wiser about Mumbai.
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Note: My above self-guided walk was arranged by Khaki Tours as part of their Urban Safaris launch. It took me about an hour and was 2 kilometres long.
the heritage precinct of gamdevi in mumbai: modern india’s birthplace
Whoever said Mumbai is all steel and glass, often-times grotesque, or miles of slums topped with blue tarpaulin needs to revisit it. Seriously, and, no, this is not some biased Mumbaikar’s rambling.
The city spills over with heritage. It is perhaps not in a blatant form as in other Indian cities which are decorated with grand tombs and forts. Mumbai’s heritage is sepia-toned, like a beautiful memory living on in the modern everyday life we live out on a daily basis, and are unaware of where it stems from. It is a heritage not of brick and mortar but of ideologies and modernism, the latter both political and cultural. It is the sapling that grew up to become “Modern India.”
A few months ago, this became evident to me when I joined a heritage walk through a precinct in South Bombay called Gamdevi or Gaondevi, meaning Village Goddess. The neighbourhood is named after its 200-year-old temple dedicated to Durga, also referred to by its devotees as Lilavati “a graceful woman.”
Spanning less than 500 metres across in width and length each, Gamdevi is where Bollywood talkies originated and Indian feminism shaped itself. Its lanes have triggered the imaginations of painters and authors alike, and its edifices given concrete form to convictions. It is also where Mahatma Gandhi lived and launched the Quit India Movement in 1942. Gamdevi is a pot pourri of the makers of Modern India, and their stories, and by default, our stories, I like to believe.
Theosophy and its legacy
One of the precinct’s most elegant structures is the two-storeyed Blavatsky Lodge (1928), a stone’s throw from French Bridge, designed on European lines and trimmed with red stone filigreed jharokas. It is home to the Theosophical Society Library’s collection of over 7,000 books and a co-Freemasonic temple where initiation ceremonies are performed. Once a vibrant centre for the then radical study of comparative religion, philosophy, science, and occultism, the society’s numbers have dwindled over the years. There are merely 400 in Bombay today and its rooms are rented out for western ballet classes. The society was founded in New York in 1875 by Helena P. Blavatsky and Colonel Henry S. Olcott with its headquarters, soon thereafter, set up in Chennai [Madras].
Of more interest than the charming building, however, are the two women closely associated with it, and their legacy. One was Annie Besant (1847–1933), a British socialist, theosophist, women’s rights activist, writer and orator and avid supporter of Indian self-rule. She came to India as part of her theosophy-related work in 1898, and went on to become president of the Indian National Congress in 1917 and campaigned for Indian independence right up to her death in 1933.
The second, another key theosophist, was Rukmini Devi Arundale (1904–1986), dancer and choreographer. Rukmini, an Indian Brahmin, played a pivotal role in the “upliftment” of the Indian classical dance form, Bharatnatyam. She is credited with rearranging it from its original “sadhir” style, considered as a lowly and vulgar art in the 1920s practised by Devadasis or temple dancers, to its current exalted version.
Bang opposite the Blavatsky Lodge is Raut’s Bungalow (1889), an archetypical 19th Century Maharashtrian mansion unchanged and un-restored, passed down five generations, and a living home now. Winner of the Urban Heritage Award for 1993, if you ever wanted to know how the local elite lived 125 odd years ago, this is it!
Flanking the French Bridge—Left: The Theosophical Society’s seal incorporates the Swastika, Star of David, Ankh, Aum and Ouroboros symbols; Right: Raut’s Bungalow (1889)
A local looks bemusedly down at me at the Raghavwadi or Haji Kasam Wadi, below the French Bridge. The wadi used to be Alladiya Khan, founder of the Jaipur-Atrauli gharana’s home in the 1930s. During the textile boom, a chawl was added to the property to house textile mill workers
19th Century windows overlooking 21st Century lives
Further down French Bridge is the disputed, vacant, colossal Mathradas Goculdas Bungalow at No. 12 belonging to the textile baron. Here too it is the residents, or rather a particular resident who changed the course of many a things. She was Mathradas’ daughter, Sumati Morarjee (1909–1998), the first woman of Indian shipping.
Sumati assumed full charge of Scindia Steam Navigation Company in 1946 and served multiple tenures as president of the Indian National Steamship Owners’ Association. And if it wasn’t for her there would be no ISKCON today, perhaps. She provided a one-way passage to Swami Prabhupada, Founder Acharya of the International Society for Krishna Consciousness (ISKCON) in 1965 to the US. The rest is history.
19th Century Maharashtrian mansions
Weaving through pastel-coloured crumbling villas lining narrow lanes, including the picturesque Harishchandra Goregaonkar Marg and the homes of Harishchandra Goregaoker and his descendants, I came out into Kennedy Bridge or “Bridge of Winds.” The more exotic nomenclature traces back to Saadat Hasan Manto (1912–1955) an Indo-Pakistani writer, playwright, and author. Often considered as one of South Asia’s greatest short story writers, his pet themes were the partition and prostitutes. He refers to the bridge as Pawan Pul—Bridge of Winds in his book My Name is Radha.
Allow me at this point to indulge in bits of trivia I discovered during my walk. Did you know Mumbai’s famed marine drive was originally named Kennedy Sea Face, after the same Sir Michael Kavanagh Kennedy (1824-1898) of Kennedy Bridge fame? Kennedy was an engineer and served as Secretary at Bombay Government’s Public Works and Railway Departments. Work on Kennedy Sea Face began in 1915 and took five years to complete.
Anyone who lives in this city knows that housing societies are the crux of its residential structure. I live in one myself. Bombay, no Asia’s first cooperative housing society, the Saraswat Cooperative Housing Society, is [any surprises] in Gamdevi. It was formed on 28 March, 1915.
Continuing with the trivia, just across the railway line is Jinnah Hall, the only public place in India still named after Muhammad Ali Jinnah—lawyer, politician, and founder of Pakistan. It was funded by public subscription after Jinnah opposed a meeting to felicitate Lord Willingdon, Governor of Bombay.
And, lastly, in a little by-lane called Bhendi Gully, just off Harishchandra Goregaonkar Marg, is a miniature replica of Bombay’s iconic Gateway of India. The site was earlier the ancestral mansion of Raobahadur Desai, its superintendent manager, and this 6-feet structure was a part of his courtyard.
Trivia in Gamdevi’s by-lanes. Left: Miniature replica of
Bombay’s iconic Gateway of India in its superintendent’s courtyard;
Right: G.H. Goregaoker’s villa
Mosaic floor tiles inside the Goregaoker mansions
Heritage peeps through the barrier walls of Kennedy Bridge
Origin of Bollywood Talkies
Back on the bridge, to its right, under the heady sunshine and welcome green leafy trees is where song-and-dance-Bollywood took birth. What appears at first as a bunch of warehouses, on closer inspect reveals one of Bombay’s earliest film studios—Jyoti Studio. This is where Alam Ara, Bollywood’s first full length talkie was shot under the banner of Imperial Films Company. Directed by Ardeshir Irani, and released in 1931 at the Majestic Cinema in Mumbai, the film starred Prithviraj Kapoor, patriarch of Bollywood’s first family in a supporting role. [Imperial Films Company launched Kapoor’s career in 1928.] To keep natural sound out, Alam Ara was shot mostly at night using artificial lighting. The film has since long been lost.
Irani made India’s first English feature film, Noor Jahan (1934), first colour feature film, Kisan Kanya (1937) and produced and directed the first Persian talkie, Dokhtar-e-Lor (1933), all here. Irani is no more, and the studios have morphed into dilapidated motor garages. But the fragrance of a magical make-believe world still lingers on.
The once-upon-a-time Jyoti Studio of Imperial Films Company. Bollywood’s first talkie Alam Ara (1931) and colour feature film Kisan Kanya (1937) were both shot here by Ardeshir Irani
Above: Ness Baug, one of the five low-cost baugs or housing
colonies built by Bai Jerbai Nowrosjee Wadia (1852-1926), a Parsee
philanthropist, in Mumbai; Below: Gamdevi’s elegant bourgeois homes of a
bygone era on Dr. Kashibai Navrange Marg—Navrange was India’s first
woman doctor to have her own clinic
Crossroads of Indian Feminism
I talked about feminism in my introduction. In the heart of Gamdevi is a crossroads where two Indian feminists and their stories meet. They are Pandita Ramabai and Dr. Rukhmabai.
Pandita Ramabai (1858–1922) was a social reformer, Sanskrit scholar and a champion for women’s rights. Partially deaf, she founded the Arya Mahila Samaj and Mukti Mission [originally Sharada Sadan], a “Christ-centred home for destitute women and children.” The two were established before and after her conversion to Christianity respectively. Now this is the interesting part—the Episcopal Church [United States] and Episcopal Anglican Church of Brazil honour her with a feast day on 5 April!
The other protagonist was Dr. Rukhmabai, India’s first practising woman doctor. As a child she was part of the court cases which led to the coming into effect of the Age of Consent Act, 1891. The Act raised the age of consent for sexual intercourse for girls from age 10 to 12 years across the British Empire. The story goes as follows: In 1880, Rukhmabai was married off at the age of 11 to a 19-year-old young man who legally summoned her to live with him on the basis of “restitution of conjugal rights.” Our young lady decided to write to Queen Victoria for help. The Queen responded by overruling the court and dissolving the marriage, paving the way for passing of the Act.
Talking about feminism and the Queen brings us to the work of Christian missionaries in Gamdevi and the work of a particular missionary educator, John Wilson. Wilson established Wilson College in Gamdevi, University of Mumbai for the people of Bombay, and was a lobbyist for the establishment of the Archaeological Survey of India in 1861. His wife, Margaret, set up St. Columba Girls High School in Gamdevi in 1832. The ties between Ramabai and Wilson were symbiotic. American sponsors of Wilson College funded Sharada Sadan, and Ramabai built the women’s hostel for his college students.
Pandita Ramabai (1858–1922) founded the Arya Mahila Samaj and
Mukti Mission [originally Sharada Sadan], both in Gamdevi. Dr. Kashibai
Navrange (1878-1946), a social reformer to the core, floated a Milk Fund
in 1916 for pregnant and lactating mothers under the auspices of the
Arya Mahila Samaj
Birthplace of the Quit India Movement
From spirituality to Bollywood to literature to feminism to education, and lastly politics—Gamdevi’s role in the creation of independent self-ruled India was no less notable. In the north-west corner of the suburb is Gowalia Tank Maidan, now renamed August Kranti Maidan. It is the site where Mahatma Gandhi made his Quit India speech on 8 August, 1942 in which he announced the British must leave India immediately or else there would be mass agitations. A couple of lanes down is Mani Bhavan, at 19, Laburnum Road, the base for Gandhi’s political activities from 1917 to 1934. The Non-Cooperation, Satyagraha, Swadeshi, Khadi and Khilafat movements were initiated within its premises.
And on this note, I come to the end of my post which has gone … oops … over 1,900 words! That’s the wonderful part about “heritage,” and especially Mumbai’s heritage. It is so incredibly rich, and relevant, wouldn’t you agree? In the coming weeks, I plan to explore Gamdevi’s neighbour, Chowpatty, and am already wondering what insights it will reveal.
If you enjoyed this post, do stop by my blog again as I continue with my explorations and ruminations on Mumbai, my adopted home.
Left: Peek-a-boo—Gamdevi, Mumbai’s soft-hued heritage enclave;
Right: Mani Bhavan where Mahatma Gandhi lived for 17 years and launched
his Satyagraha and civil disobedience movements from
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The Gamdevi walk was designed and run by Bharat Gothoskar of Khaki Tours. Funds raised from ticket sales were donated to Angel Xpress Foundation, an NGO working on educating slum kids in Mumbai.
global travel shot: the unknown 5th century shiva saptamurti in parel
You may well say, Aah, I have seen this sculpture before. That is, if you are a museum buff. Wrong.
Allow me to make a confession. I often find myself torn between awe at the cultural treasures with which India bursts at its seams with, and angry at the apathy, neglect and state of degradation in which many lie. I know I am not alone in this conflict.
Exactly a year ago I visited the sculpture gallery at Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj Vastu Sangrahalaya, Mumbai, formerly known as the Prince of Wales Museum of Western India. Like very many others, I fell in love with one piece.
3.06 meters high, the sculpture was a monolithic bas relief of the Hindu god Shiva’s saptamurti form (5th-6th Century) in which six images in various mudras emanate from a central Shiva in sthanaka mudra, devoid of excessive ornamentation and surrounded by five ganas playing musical instruments. Stunning, to say the least.
A label on the wall explained it was a plaster cast. The real thing was somewhere in Parel, a neighbourhood in South Mumbai, which I never expected to come face-to-face with. Would you have? I sure didn’t.
Then just like that, two weeks ago on one of the heritage walks I often take to unravel my adopted home, I ‘stumbled’—thanks to a well-crafted, researched route—upon the original. I had to blink very many times for the actuality to sink in.
As you may well imagine, it was one of those Aah-ah moments in my life! It was also one that left me kind of sad and angry. Caged in a tiny, concrete structure in a narrow lane [Mukund Anna Jadhav Road], with bits of cement and strands of cobwebs clinging to it, supported by iron bars, here was a 1,500 year old sculptural masterpiece.
The effigy, referred also to as the Parel Stele was found in Parel in October, 1931 when a road was being dug from Parel to Shivadi. Since then it has been enshrined inside the Baradevi temple, Parel Village, and declared a national protected monument by the Archaeological Survey of India.
Baradevi means 12 goddesses; a title endowed on the stele by the local villagers who perhaps mistook the 12 figures for goddesses. Seven figures are believed to be of Shiva, as the matted hair and crescent moon indicate, and the other five his ganas or attendants. The label in the museum called it Ashta Shiva. Look carefully and the stele resembles the shape of a lingam, the 8th Shiva.
Found in a pile of stone chips, it is incomplete and was never, hence, installed for worship. Historians claim it was meant for a cave or public place as it is too big for a temple. On Mahashivratri, the annual Hindu festival celebrated in reverence of Shiva, large numbers of devotees visit the temple; no rituals take place inside the little room on a daily basis.
“You deserve better,” I whispered to it. “I am still being worshipped,” it whispered back.
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The Parel Queensway walk was run by Bharat, Zainab and Tapan of Khaki Tours. Funds raised from ticket sales were donated to Angel Xpress Foundation, an NGO working on educating slum kids in Mumbai.
bhuleshwar bhulbhulaiya: lord shiva’s neighbourhood in mumbai
Last Sunday I was invited to attend a test walk through Bhuleshwar curated by Khaki Tours. I had just returned to Bombay from a hectic trip to Delhi, and would have given anything to just sleep in. The only thing more tempting was the idea of this walk.
So come 6 am, I found myself wake up to the persistent alarm on my phone, and drag myself, accompanied with my camera to CP Tank, our meeting place. CP Tank, by the way, stands for Cowasjee Patel Tank. It used to be a water tank, built by Parsee philanthropist Cowasjee Patel in 1776, for supplying drinking water in Girgaon. Today, it is an island on VP Road. Dhirubhai Ambani and his family had a home in Bhuleshwar till the 1960s.
For the uninitiated, Bhuleshwar is a predominantly Gujarati neighbourhood just north of the Fort District. Try googling and there is very little you can, if truth be told, lay your hands on about it. Apart from a long list of shops, “Alice in Bhuleshwar” by Kaiwan Mehta and the claim that there are a hundred temples in the vicinity alone, try finding out more, and there is nothing.
Which makes sense, for the 100 temples mentioned are not tourist sites but places of worship for the locals over the past 150-odd years. They are part of their everyday life. Huddled inside Baroque, neo-Gothic and Gujarat styled walls lining the maze of streets overflowing with a populace consumed with either buying or selling, these temples pay homage to gods and goddesses from the Hindu pantheon.
On my walk I met Krishna and Radha, Shiva [the Bholey Ishwar—innocent god—after whom the locality is named, the sun-god, and a five-headed Hanuman. But it was not all about gods and prayers. I also walked into dharamsallas [hostels] which were oases of calm, and a Parsee infirmary for cows, donkeys, hens, birds, dogs, goats, and ducks.
Curious? Come browse my photo essay on bits and bytes of my peek [say 10 percent] into a local [Bhuleshwar] way of life.
Shri Radha Krishna Mandir. Left: A guardian at the entrance
pillars; Right: Detail, the ceiling combines sculpture and painting art
forms
Hira Baug or Hirachand Goomanji Dharamsalla (1905), the cover of
Kaiwan Mehta’s “Alice in Bhuleshwar” and site of Gandhi’s first speech
upon his return to India
A gaushala [cow shelter] and shop selling puja wares at the
Madhav Bag and Shri Laxmi-Narayan Temple founded by the Madhavdas Kapole
Hindu brothers (1915)
Temples small [in a wall niche, complete with a priest] and grand fill the lanes
Left: The Parsee Bombay Panjrapole
(1834) is an animal infirmary and cow ashram, and the last of its kind
in the city. Feeding the cows is said to bring good karma; Right: Surya
Narayan [Sun god] riding a chariot driven by a seven–headed horse, Shree
SuryaNarayan Mandir (1899)
Sages line the walls and roof of the Vedic SuryaNarayan Mandir, some in prayer and others deep in yogic meditation
Top and Left: Krishna Lila on the dome of the sabha mandap and Hanuman as Kastbhanjan at the Shri Swaminarayan Mandir—the oldest Swaminarayan temple in Mumbai (1868); Right: Haldi
[turmeric] for prayer ceremonies being sifted at the Bhuleshwar Temple.
The neighbourhood is named after this ancient Shiva temple
Head priest at Bhuleshwar Temple: Jovial, chilled out and speaks impeccable English and Hindi
The five-headed Hanuman at the Shri Panchmukhi Hanuman Mandir.
The five heads belong to Varaha, Garuda, Hanuman, Narasimha and
Hayagreeva, and was a form he took to conquer Ahiravan, brother of
Ravana
A sacred altar at the Shri Panchmukhi Hanuman Mandir
Silver effigy of a Marathi woman in local dress stands sentry by the inner sanctum of Sri Krishna Pranami Mandir belonging to a 400-year-old Gujarati sect
Shri Ram Mandir of a by-gone time; It faces the kabutar khana [pigeon-house], now by-gone
– – –
Note: It is easy to get lost in Bhuleshwar in its sea of people crowding the winding narrow lanes. May I suggest if you choose to explore, please do so on a Sunday as I did. Also note that the temples have different darshan timings so you may not be able to see all the idols.
Mumba Devi, the temple after which Mumbai is named is also in Bhuleshwar. I will be writing a separate post on it soon.
lal baug aka red garden—my love affair with bombay on valentine’s day
It is Valentine’s Day and everyone and everything seems to be abuzz with how to celebrate a day devoted to love and affection with Mr. X or Mr. Z. My facebook wall suggests I spend it getting to know my adopted city a little better. After all, I love it, don’t I? The offered walk is through Lal Baug on Sunday morning, 14 February, 8:30 am.
I know nothing about the precinct mentioned in the marketing pitch. The name Lal Baug translates to red garden. Red for love. Curious, I click on ‘going’.
Lal Baug, I soon discover is not one story but a tapestry of many, weaving into each other, much like a person if I may say so. It is more than a geographical area. It is a context, a community. Bombay or Mumbai or vice versa would be incomplete without Lal Baug. Let me explain.
The neighbourhood between Dadar and Parel in Central Mumbai is best known to the city for its Lalbaugcha Raja during Ganesh Chaturthi celebrations. Behind this obvious role is a story of Mumbai’s leading Parsee business families who called it home, a tale of textile mills built and dissolved, and of dargahs, fire temples and Hindu shrines juxtaposed. Fascinating, to say the least!
Come, let me take you on my walk through the Red Garden.
The primary plot: A tale of textile mills built and lost
The cotton mills of Girangaon [village of mills] comprising Byculla, Lal Baug, Parel and Worli were the pioneers in the transformation of Bombay into the industrial metropolis it is today. It all started in 1856 when The Bombay Spinning and Weaving Company was set up in Tardeo. By 1865 there were 10 cotton mills employing over 6,500 workers; by 1900, 136 mills, and in 1980, 300,000 were working in the 600 acre area.
Male laborers, as young as 16, worked 10 hour shifts and lived in the surrounding chawls built by mill owners and government, often sharing their rooms with six or more others. There was inadequate ventilation and sanitation. Disease was rife with not much distinction between home and street. The chawls were inevitably the breeding grounds for gangsters, prostitution and the birth of the urban theatre or tamasha. These live on today as prime themes in Bollywood movies and in real life in its rampant underworld.
The downfall of the mills began with the American Civil War and Britain’s move to Egypt for its cotton supply. The failure to update technology after World War I, the rapid growth of power looms, and the strike led by Dr. Datta Samant brought the industry down to its knees in the 1970s—post strike on 2 August, 1983, more than 100,000 workers were never rehired.
Well aware of the prime position occupied by these defunct mills and its potential to yield billions in real estate, builders have slowly and surely been razing them to the ground, to replace them with fancy malls and steel and glass apartment blocks like One Avighna Park and Kalpataru Habitat. The encroachment into the community, compensating the locals with lower floors and separate entrances whilst selling dreams to the rich is an ongoing battle. The residents get a bigger apartment. The builder makes billions. And a 150-year-old way of life dies a daily death.
Lal Baug’s 150-year-old mansions and chawls give way to tomorrow
This is, however, but one story. Let’s go on to the next, about Bombay’s richest families who have one thing in common. They built their fortunes in Lal Baug.
Sub-plot: From cotton to Parsee fortunes
Most of the mills in Girangaon were owned by former traders: the Tatas, Petits, Wadias [Parsee]; Currimbhoys [Muslim]; Sassoons [Iraqi Jews]; Thakerseys, Khataus, Goculdas [Hindu]; and Cottons and Greaves [English]. Lal Baug is also where the Godrej soaps to security conglomerate has its humble origins. Ardeshir Godrej set up his padlock factory in one of its by-lanes to ensure safer homes in the vicinity in 1897. Godrej still owns large chunks of land in Lal Baug.
Remember Red Garden? It was the home of the Wadias all lit up—the family were the first to illuminate their residence with gas from the Bombay Gas Co. Prior to this the gas was used only for cooking and lighting the street lamps by ‘illuminators’. The pipelines are currently used for fibre optic cables by telecom companies.
A remnant from Red Palace is Nowroz Baug, built by Bai Jerbai Nowrosjee Wadia (1852-1926), a philanthropist who built a series of five low-cost baugs or housing colonies comprising 1,500 apartments for lower- and middle-class Parsees. There are plans to pull Nowroz Baug and its grounds down, and replace it with four skyscrapers, each 40-storey high, by the current Wadia generation. May the best man/ woman/ Parsee win.
The illuminated red garden: Bombay Gas Co. Ltd, 1812 wall
plaque—the source of its illumination; Nowroz Baug, once red garden; a
Parsee agiary retained, albeit squeezed within a redeveloped block of
flats
The logical detour: Lal Baug is named after a peer too
Yes, you read the sub-heading right! The historically Hindu area of Lal Baug is named after a Muslim saint, Hazrat Lal Shah. His neon pink and green dargah is said to be the oldest in Bombay, dating back to the 13th Century. It was renovated after the 1992-93 communal riots. Just around the corner is the dargah of his younger brother Chand Shah looked after by a Hindu Gaikwad family for generations.
Standing in solidarity of Lal Baug’s secular identity are even more eclectically placed spaces of worship. There is a prettily decorated Jain derasar with an effigy of Shivaji Maharaj, a temple to Mhasoba, the buffalo-God, and an agiary squeezed into a renovated residential tower.
But the bigger surprise comes when walking through a stream of chawls I end up in a verdant green 2-acre vegetable farm selling spinach, methi, lal math as if it is the most natural thing to be. The farm is owned by the Bombay Municipal Corporation (BMC) and has been farmed by the Gedia family for the past 90 years. I had to blink. Twice. To assure myself it was for real.
The above are, may I point out, rarely a few hundred metres away from the main artery of Lal Baug, Dr. Baba Saheb Ambedkar Road, once upon a time Kingsway. This street burgeons with shops selling all that is festive for it is on to this road that Lal Baug’s greatest, and most famous claim to fame leads into—Lalbaugcha Raja. There are spice gallis [lanes] with endless versions of dried red chilli, a chivda galli devoted to Mumbai’s favorite snack, colors during Holi, diyas in Diwali, wedding paraphernalia. “Business is always good” here.
Left: Colorful walls of the Jain derasar; Right: The other red garden—Hazrat Lal Shah’s 13th Century dargah
A 2-acre vegetable garden in the heart of Lal Baug
Business is always good in Bombay’s festival market; Bottom left: MithaBolo, Khush Raho [talk sweet, stay happy]
The supreme divine plot: Lalbaugcha Raja
Being non-ritualistic and relatively new to Bombay has in many ways led me to being unaware of the city’s indigenous festival side. Hence, when Bharat, our guide, went on about Ganpati celebrations, I was like “so what” until the enormity of its significance, in terms of Lal Baug specifically, hit me right in the eye. Everything in these side lanes revolves around this festival. There is the official route, the organiser’s offices, site demarcations; all unchanged since 1934.
But, some context first. Ganesh Chaturthi is an 11-day Hindu festival in honor of the elephant-headed god, Ganesh, celebrated mainly in western and southern India around August or September. Two of the most famous Sarvajanik Ganpatis, clay idols for public worship during this festival in Bombay are in Lal Baug: Lalbaugcha Raja and Mumbaicha Raja, the latter a few years older and a couple of lanes away in Ganesh Galli.
Followers claim the 20-feet high Lalbaugcha Raja, now in its 82nd year and sculpted by the Kambli family [local residents] for over eight decades, is Navsacha Ganpati—one who fulfils all wishes. Over 1.5 million people visit the Ganesh pandal daily during the festival. In 2015, a 620-foot set made entirely of Belgian glass was built around the idol. On the rest of the 354 days, a flat piece of stone is worshipped in Lalbaugcha Raja’s place.
The story goes that in 1932, the market in Peru Chawl was forced to shut down. The fishermen and vendors prayed to Lord Ganesh for a permanent space where they could market their goods. Almost as if in answer to their prayers, the landlord Rajabai Tayyabali agreed to give them another plot. In gratitude, an idol of Ganesh was set up by them on 12 September 1934, dressed in the native attire of the Kolis. From that day onwards, the idol has been associated as one who fulfils all wishes.
Lalbaugcha Raja during the 11 days of Ganesh Chaturthi
Lalbaugcha Raja during the remaining 354 days, as worshipped by a devotee
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Trust you enjoyed my walk as much as I did. Lal Baug does not disclose its secrets easily. At first glance it appears as nothing more than sheer chaos which one comes to accept as an integral part of Indian metros. And then these tales reveal themselves. Yup, it was just the right decision to explore it on Valentine’s and peel away the city’s layers. Is that not what love is all about. Loving the jazz, layers and the center within.
The #LalbaugStroll was run by Bharat and Zainab of Khaki Tours. Funds raised from ticket sales were donated to Nanhi Kali, an NGO working on girl child education in India.
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The 9th edict was discovered at a 2,500-year-old Buddhist stupa built by Purna Maitrayaniputra, a wealthy local merchant and trader to mark his new-found faith. Decorated in sandalwood, the stupa, now a national protected monument was on the same lines as the one in Sanchi. Gautam Buddha himself did its inauguration.Nice and informative post