Club class

The Goan clubs at Dhobi Talao’s Jer Mahal have been around for over a century, but now their crumbling rooms face the threat of demolition, finds Radhika Raj

Praxis Remedios pulls out one coin after another out of thin air and then makes them disappear within a blink of an eye. His black jacket and a magician hat hang from a rusty hook on a chipped room wall. Above it lies a broken wooden board that says Guirim Club. Remedios is one of the residents of a Goan club at Jer Mahal in Dhobi Talao. “These clubs are boarding houses for people from Goa,” he explains. “Every village has club for its residents here. It is a mini-Goa in Mumbai.” Remedios has been living in his club for over twenty years, but still has a difficult time explaining his address. “If I tell people in the city of our club, they ask if there is a swimming pool there,” he smiles.
 
Sandwiched between city stalwarts like St Xaviers College and Metro cinema, Jer Mahal bears the distinction of being one of Mumbai’s most beautiful chawls and a Goan cultural hub, accommodating 50 Goan clubs in its premises. Jer Mahal however is facing the threat of demolition because of its location.  “Jer Mahal is a Grade III structure and hence can be pulled down if proven that it cannot be restored,”  says conservationist architect Abha Lambah.  “It is necessary to list Jer Mahal as a Grade II structure as it is one of the most culturally rich chawls in city. We must protect it from turning into another concrete tower”.

With over 104 years of history tucked away in its crevices, notice boards with Konkani scrawls, chapels in each of the clubs, posters of Jesus Christ (and occasionally white women in skimpy outfits) this bulky structure is indeed a world in itself. The oldest Goan clubs can be traced back to 1857. Later, the second world war and an acute food shortage brought people to the newly developing city of Bombay. Goans, with their Portuguese backgrounds and knowledge of the Roman script, could easily pick up the English dialect. They were employed as cooks, clerks, musicians and seamen. Most clubs were set up at Jer Mahal at Dhobi Talao, since it was near Crawford Market and convenient for the cooks. Government offices at Fort and the docks for seamen were close too. Even today, most residents here work as seamen for the navy, musicians in Catholic orchestras or waiters at five star hotels. “This is home away from home. All the people here go to the same church, most of them have grown up together,” says Joel Fernandes from the Majorda Club.

Dinshaw Mahal, one of the wings of Jer Mahal, where Fernandes stays, contains Goan clubs all the way up to the top floor. Each floor accommodates 3-4 clubs, along with a single kitchen and a bathroom. The rent or the baddem is as low as Rs200 per month. “These clubs are so old that some traditions have been followed for a century,” says Vitthal Aranjum, accountant and member of the United Club of Assondra. For instance, due to space constraints, mattresses were not allowed at the clubs in the 1950s. Despite the number of residents reducing by almost half, this rule is still religiously followed and every member picks a spot on the floor at bedtime.

These days the clubs are characterised by broken walls, protruding cable wires and worn out arches. “A decade ago there were 14 people at our club, but today there are only four,” adds Aranjum. Four clubs in the past few years have merged to form one United Club of Assondra. Most clubs at Jer Mahal have downed their shutters while others have been lent to locals.

Change has trickled into these stolid old structures. Football and cricket have taken over the annual feasts and the Goan DJ brought in every year during Christmas also plays Himesh Reshammiya songs. There are also some constants, like the resident ghost who allegedly haunts the terrace. As Anthony Fernandes cooks pork vindaloo, someone at the neighbouring club plays a popular Goan classic. Residents at the Durga club dig out an old frame. When they they find it, they look at it with amazement. ‘Established – 1908 it says in Konkani. “Oh my god, our club turns hundred this year,” they exclaim. “We must celebrate”.
 
r_radhika@dnaindia.net