A village at Sea
The original inhabitants of Worli’s Koliwada have withstood changing weather, declining marine life, the ravages of development and even Covid. We all savour the traditional Koli dance where they are expressing their joy but increasingly hiding sorrows. That too due to the ambition of a city they helped create.
Sanjay Nagral
Aug 14, 2020, Mumbai Mirror
As you drive down the Bandra Worli Sea Link, the skyline dotted with skyscrapers is quite startling. As you look down, you notice a triangular piece of land jutting into the sea packed with houses, small boats with colourful flags parked around them and fishing nets strung up in the open space. Look carefully and you see the ramparts of a crumbling fort at the tip. For very long, one couldn’t get a frontal view of Mumbai’s western coastline from the sea. The Sea Link made this possible. It also revealed Worli’s Koliwada to the city.
Most of you are unlikely to have entered this village. I live close by. I would take a BEST bus from the depot at its entrance during my student years. Almost all domestic helpers in my colony come from Koliwada. I have several patients who live there. On a few occasions, I have ventured into its byzantine lanes to visit the houses of our help and a patient.
The Worli Koliwada must easily be one of the densest of human settlements in Mumbai. One of the few surviving villages of Mumbai’s original inhabitants, the fishing community of Kolis. Along with surrounding settlements, its population is now close to a lakh which is compressed into two square km. Bustling with people, it has extremely narrow roads that can take only one small vehicle at a time. The Koli houses are one or two-storeyed. There are multiple temples, a mazar and a cross. Of course, many doctors’ clinics. And now beauty parlours. The village has other unique features, too. The Worli Fort is a heritage monument; the Indian Coast Guard has a big centre abutting it, making it sensitive.
Except for the monsoon, the men folk go fishing round the year in small boats or bigger trawlers. The women are central to the trade as they carry the fish to the markets and sell them. They are hardy people. Manishankar Kavathe, a Communist, was a corporator from here for nine consecutive terms. Now Hemangi Worlikar, the Shiv Sena corporator is the deputy mayor of Mumbai. And the MLA, Thackeray scion Aaditya.
Koliwada has been slowly encircled by modernity and development over the years. On one side the Worli Sea Face is home to some of the costliest real estate in the world. On the other, the Mahim Bay which has now several skyscrapers cocking a snook at CRZ rules. For many years the fisherfolk believed that nothing could stand between them and the sea. But the Sea Link changed that. While it enabled car owners to zip past, it interfered with fishing. And as if all this was not enough, the coastal road construction threatens their livelihoods. The locals filed a case in the Supreme Court pointing out the problems to marine life and their livelihood. But the court finally gave the go ahead for the project.
When Covid hit Mumbai, Worli Koliwada was the first area to be declared a containment zone due to the large number of cases and the density. The area was easy to blockade as there are only two small lanes leading to it. It was under total lockdown for two months. Though this may have helped stem the virus, it led to severe hardships to its inhabitants. Even regular provisions were a problem. There is an interesting story of how some residents travelled by boat to Mahim to get provisions. The village recorded around 2,500 cases. And several fatalities. But work on the coastal road continued uninterrupted. An activist, who was in the forefront of the fight against the coastal road, was one of the early Covid deaths. The Deputy Mayor was also infected.
Koliwada has largely beaten Covid. The strict lockdown was praised by everyone except those who live there. It has even been touted as the ‘Koliwada model’ by the state after a central team commended the handling of the infection. The Kolis celebrate Narali Poornima which signifies the end of the peak monsoon, safe enough to venture back to sea. This year’s Narali Poornima has come and gone. But many of them are still to go to sea.
The spectre of ‘redevelopment’ is haunting Koliwada. They escaped the boom because they refused to be categorised as slum-dwellers. New special rules now give them the choice to decide their fate. They can preserve the colonies, go for repairs or opt for complete redevelopment. Under the third option, they can build mid-rise buildings either by self-redevelopment or with a builder.
While a large section of Mumbai’s working class was pushed to the suburbs or their native villages, the Kolis have stayed put. As if they had a choice. They cannot be severed from their lifeline, the sea. These original inhabitants of this island have withstood changing weather, declining marine life, the ravages of development and even Covid.
We all savour the traditional Koli dance where they move with gay abandon singing paeans to their boats and the sea. They are of course expressing their joys but increasingly hiding sorrows. That too due to the ambition of a city they helped create.