Mumbai’s gaothans are a forgotten heritage

Once an indelible part of Mumbai’s landscape, many gaothans are now struggling to exist in a city that is aiming for the skies. Ashutosh Shukla & Linah Baliga do a realty check at four prominent gaothans

Khotachiwadi: The cosmopolitan gaothan
Located in the commercial heart of Girgaum is the charming little village of Khotachiwadi, which has so far managed to resist invasion by Mumbai’s mind-boggling traffic. Declared a Grade III heritage precinct in 1995, Khotachiwadi is a web of narrow alleys lined by century-old bungalows with trellised balconies, open porches, curling staircases, and sloping tiled roofs. The wadi is named after the ‘Khot’ or local supervisor from the Pathare Prabhu community, who sold  part of the land to East Indian Christians more than 100 years ago.

Once a bastion of Maharashtrian Hindus, Khotachiwadi is now a melting pot of religions and cultures. “Most of the Maharashtrians have sold their cottages and left the area,” says Thelma Ferreira, a local resident. “Khotachiwadi is probably the only cosmopolitan gaothan with a good mix of Gujaratis, Muslims, Christians, and even Chinese.”

Comprising mainly houses that were constructed prior to 1960, some even as far back as the late 19th century, and many of which are now in rundown condition,

Khotachiwadi is dying a slow death due to insensitive reconstruction. In 1999, the government allowed reconstruction of cessed buildings in the area and offered FSI perks to builders who were willing to take up redevelopment in the area. “This resulted in many old residents selling off their flats to builders,” says conservation architect Abha Narain Lambah, who had prepared the Urban Conservation Guidelines for Khotachiwadi in 1999. “The report is yet to see the light of the day,” she says.
There were 65 bungalows in the area, of which 37 have given way to multi-storey towers. The new high-rises have brought in new residents, most of whom, say locals, pay little respect to the surroundings. “They use the alleys as dustbins,” says James Ferreira, owner of a beautiful cottage in the area. “All gullies are filthy, the drains are open — it is a crying shame.”

Ferreira used to organise the Khotachiwadi Festival to raise funds for restoration of heritage buildings within the precinct. “We have stopped having the festival and the funds are still lying unused,” he says.

But in keeping with the old times, many senior citizens continue to meet for their morning prayers. “This helps us to bond,” says Janet Baptista, 85, a local resident. “Despite the cultural differences, everyone comes forward to lend a helping hand in times of need.”
Tourists flock to this unique urban village to marvel at its quaint East Indian settlements. Thanks to the efforts of a few passionate locals, Khotachiwadi has preserved its rich heritage. It remains to be seen how long citizens will be able to hold out against the onslaught of developers.

Andheri Gaothan: Dying a slow death
Just a few feet from Andheri railway station is a narrow, dingy lane that leads to the Andheri gaothan. But those hoping to find ancient cottages and Portuguese-style bungalows here are in for a rude shock. Pale yellow Slum Rehabilitation Authority (SRA) buildings dot the area. If you look harder, you will find a few decrepit cottages made of stone and wood with thatched bamboo roofs. The area once boasted of as many as 50 magnificent cottages, but the number has come down to a mere 15, all thanks to rampant illegal construction.

It is not just the cottages that are paying the cost of development. Locals say trees in the area are being ‘killed’ to make way for SRA buildings. “When builders are denied permission by the BMC to cut down trees, they use desperate measures and pour acid on the roots,” says Hyginus D’Lima, a local resident and social activist. As a result, the trees begin to wilt and die gradually. The dried, dead trees are then hacked to make way for high-rises under the SRA scheme, he says.

After D’Lima filed repeated complaints and pursued the police, samples of burnt down trees were sent to the forensic laboratory for testing. The reports are still awaited.
“We do not know if rules allow the construction of SRA buildings in a gaothan,” says a local resident. “Our village is being destroyed because of criminals and land sharks who rule this place,” says another.

Not willing to take things lying down, D'Lima filed a writ petition in 2006 challenging the construction of SRA buildings in the area, naming the BMC, the SRA, and the police as respondents. Pointing to the authorities’ apathy, D’Lima says, “Despite the fact that no trading or commercial activities are allowed in a gaothan, food stalls continue to encroach upon our area.”

But D’Lima says the locals are equally to be blamed for the gaothan’s deteriorating condition. “Many cottage owners are only too anxious to sell off their property for money,” he says.

Locals say the new high-rises have put more pressure on the area's crumbling infrastructure. "How can an area have the necessary infrastructure to tackle the load of thousands of new residents when it was actually never meant to house so many?" says one.

D'Lima says there is still time and the gaothan can still be saved from succumbing to urbanisation. "There should be a special development regulation for gaothans," he suggests.  He says the regulations should be applicable to the owners of property and not the builder or the contractor. "This will allow poor people to expand their dwellings for their ever expanding families," he says.

Chuim village: Where life comes to a standstill
Nestled cosily in Bandra’s belly is the quaint Chuim village with its matrix of wooden cottages and two-storey structures. The old bungalows still look robust and unique with their wooden frameworks, circular staircases, iron-grilled windows, and attics. Pot-bellied senior citizens relax in their verandahs watching life move by while the womenfolk break into small discussions with verve in the narrow by-lanes. People here continue to live their laidback lives, completely oblivious to the hustle and bustle of Mumbai.

Chuim village came into existence after inhabitants started settling around the vast agricultural fields around 200 years ago. They would trade in agricultural produce and flowers. In the early days, a school set in the midst of vast mango fields imparted primary education. Like most gaothans, Chuim, too, has witnessed many bungalows bite the dust and get transformed into multi-storey buildings. The village once had 37 cottages, of which now only 20 remain.

 With more people settling down in the area, the village is battling an array of infrastructure problems. Water supply is a problem and so is sewage disposal. Residents say the water pressure is perennially low. The fact that the village is on a slope strains the sewage system and causes pipes to burst, claim locals. Garbage disposal is another issue. “Ever since the Advanced Locality Management (ALM) stopped functioning, our problems have increased,” says a resident.

While some old-timers have sold their bungalows and left, others have opted for redevelopment. Quite a few of the bungalows in the area are owned by Buddhists, many of whom are tired of repairing their old houses every now and then. They say they are willing to go in for redevelopment if only the builder were to allow them to retain their ownership. But there are others who feel it is time the village is declared a heritage precinct to prevent builders from having a free run of the area.

“I want the gaothan to retain its characteristic look and feel,” says Rudolph Alves, who owns a 100-year-old bungalow in Chuim village. “Gaothans give us more exclusivity, individuality, and privacy, besides keeping the traffic and noise at bay.” 

The village is centrally located and offers easy access to markets, schools, places of worship, the local railway station, and promenade. Residents say builders know the area is a gold mine and have been trying to lure them into handing over their properties. “We will not bow to the builders,” says Rodrigues. “Most of them make bogus promises and we do not want to let go of what we have.” 

Chembur Gaothan: Away from the bustle
Situated a short distance away from the railway station is Chembur gaothan. Another laidback gaothan within the maximum city, the place has a peculiar history of its own.
The gaothan is populated by members of the Mhatre and Raote families, who belong to the Somvanshiya Kshatriya Pathare clan. Originally soldiers from Gorakhpur, they travelled down south via Rajasthan and reached Mumbai. Here, they joined a local king’s army and were provided with food and shelter. They eventually settled in Mumbai. Over time, they changed their professions. While many got into government jobs, others chose to work in the city’s textile mills.

At present, there are 150 structures, mainly old Portuguese-style cottages, in the gaothan. While most of the cottages are well-maintained, some appear to be just getting by. Lush green tress surround most of the bungalows. Big wooden windows, thatched roofs, and open verandahs add to the beauty of this gaothan.

Though a few four-storey structures are coming up, the area has managed to retain its characteristic look. Residents say developers have not started pestering them. Yet.
Locals here live like one closely knit community. “If anyone needs help, the entire community rushes to help,” says Jagannath Raote, a resident. “Gaothans help in cultivating a rich culture as people learn from each other by sharing ideas," says Chandrakant Mhatre, who lives in one of the best maintained 100-year-old two-storey cottages. He says residing in a gaothan is an experience like no other. While many gaothans are struggling to save their heritage, Chembur gaothan has managed to stay afloat. “The area is peaceful and has the colour and vibrancy of a festival,” he says.
Mhatre says the Chembur gaothan must be given heritage status. “There may be some with big families who would like to opt for redevelopment, but I think we must protect our heritage,” he says.

Many youngsters, however, say redevelopment is the need of the hour. "It is nice to live here, but repairing the house is a problem," says Mughda Raote. Raote, who lives in a century-old house, says almost half the place has already been redeveloped by builders. “Instead of opposing redevelopment, we must ensure that we keep our community intact,” she says.

About 20 per cent of the old-timers have sold their properties to builders and moved to other suburbs while about 40 per cent of the gaothan has seen some redevelopment, mainly in the form  of four-storey buildings. Whether the remaining families manage to resist the builders’ lucrative offers and keep their houses is something only time will tell.