Let every man praise the bridge that carries him over — English proverb.
The rest of the city — and the country — may be floored by the grandeur of the Bandra-Worli sealink, but former cricketer Dilip Vengsarkar is not among its fans. He believes that it is a badly executed project. “They destroyed the old promenade of the Worli seaface by bringing the exit right in its centre,” he says.
Like him, many older residents of Worli miss the quiet and elegant haven where you could seek refuge from the chaos of the city. Of course, they agree, the bridge which connects south Mumbai with the suburbs was necessary for the city’s growth, but it could have been laid out without messing up the area.
“Earlier, the sealink was planned so that the Worli exit hit Mahakali Road. This would have minimised the traffic jams. But the fishing community living there objected, so the exit was brought into the middle of the seaface,” points out Neelam Sahney, wife of former police commissioner Satish Sahney. She admits, though, that she now has an easy ride to Bandra where her daughter lives.
Another former police commissioner, Julio Ribeiro, who moved into Worli with his wife 15 years ago, is not one to complain. Yes, the traffic has “naturally increased”, he says, but “defecating at the seaface has also stopped”. He does add with a touch of nostalgia, though, that from his fifth-floor apartment, he could earlier see “boys racing their motorbikes on the seaface”. His wife, Melba, nods in agreement.
But the Ribeiros are taking the advent of the sealink in their stride. “The first four days were alarming. But we breathed easy after the traffic lessened considerably once the toll was introduced,” says Ribeiro. “This sealink has forced us to take a whole chakkar of the seaface before we can take a U-turn and will probably increase our petrol bills, but we’re not complaining.”
Many of the residents have given up on the splendid view they once enjoyed from their windows, which mostly remain shut now to keep out the honking and pollution. Architect Sonal Shah, who’s been living in one of the seafacing apartments for almost 20 years, even had the foresight to soundproof her windows.
Anu Toshniwal, who’s lived in a seafacing apartment for 40 years, isn’t complaining about having to do without a splendid view. What bothers her, though, is that taking her dog for a walk has got complicated.
“It used to be so easy,” she reminisces. “All we had to do was walk across. Now, I have to walk past five buildings on the right or eight buildings to the left just to reach a zebra crossing. And no, it’s no fun walking anymore,” she says. However, she adds with a smile as she looks out of her window at the waves crashing against the stone of the promenade, “We Bombaywalas take so much in our stride that soon we won’t notice the inconvenience.”
Lensman Jaideep Mehrotra, who shot a photo of the traffic at the Bandra-Worli sealink every four hours for the first five days after the bridge opened to document the changes in the area’s profile, says he has a peculiar problem – he stays at the north end of the seaface, so he has to travel the entire length of the seaface to take a U-turn to go to the suburbs.
For Bhushan Choudhry, member of the Worli Walkers Association and editor of the local newsletter Worli Waves, no parking on one side of the road has ruined his morning walk. “There’s no fun in a walk when we’re constantly worried about our cars getting towed,” says Choudhry.
Not all Worlikars are annoyed with the change. Former cricketer Ajit Wadekar, who’s just returned from the US, says the sealink has eased his journey to the airport. His only complaint is that commuters are not keeping the sealink clean. “I noticed people throwing plastic and wrappers. There should be a check on that.”
Some, like Dr RK Anand, a senior paediatrician who has lived in Worli for 30 years, have learned to focus on the positives. One change he welcomes for instance is the way in which associations are formed in a place like Worli. “When we first moved here, these associations weren’t as organised. We used to meet these very people just as friends,” he says.
It was always a popular place for people to hang out, especially on Sundays, says Dr Anand. Despite memories of the seaface over so many years, Dr Anand says he doesn’t miss what he used to enjoy earlier. “Maybe it’s because my perspective has changed,” he adds, almost poetically: “Now I see beauty all around.”




