Showing posts with label urban design. Show all posts
Showing posts with label urban design. Show all posts

Saturday, July 4, 2015

The Agency of Architecture: In Conversation with Rahul Mehrotra

Rahul Mehrotra and Friend
credit: RMA Architects
This conversation was first published in 
Tekton: A Journal of Architecture, Urban Design & Planning; 
Volume 1, Issue 1, September 2014; pp. 106 - 119

Published with kind permission from Tekton.
www.tekton.mes.ac.in
All images published with kind permission from Rahul Mehrotra and RMA.
www.RMAarchitects.com


The Agency of Architecture:
In Conversation with Rahul Mehrotra

by
Mustansir Dalvi

It is inevitable that any interview with Rahul Mehrotra is going to be multi-disciplinary in nature. In his person and in his practice Mehrotra straddles several spheres with ease- architecture, planning, urbanism, history, conservation, research, social concerns, socio-urban activism, writing and pedagogy, all this with a critical eye on the present. He has been an initiator of the architectural conservation movement in Mumbai that set an example for the rest of India and (with Sharada Dwivedi) the primary narrator of the history of Mumbai. In his work, Mehrotra explores beyond the obvious, ‘beyond binaries’, as he puts it, making each project a transformative one for the users and the immediate physical context. He has been teaching full-time for the past decade and his practice and research come together and are forwarded by his pedagogical interests. This conversation covers many of his interests and becomes a dialogue of ideas and possibilities.


DALVI
In your architectural projects at RMA, you have frequently gone beyond the conventional limits of site, even immediate context. You have tried to incorporate the intangible, addressed socio-cultural immediacies, and sought new significance, whether in projects like Hathigaon in Jaipur, the more globalized offices for corporate houses or even single-family dwellings.

MEHROTRA
For me understanding the ‘context of the context’ is the starting point. I think the physical excavations of a site are the more obvious parameters to extricate – climate, geology, materials availability, local craft and building practices etc. The more challenging, but perhaps far more nourishing excavation is making the relationships between this obvious set of excavations from the site with the more intangible, the deeper histories, implicit cultures, the broader contemporary flows etc.

Kala Ghoda Art District
Constructing new significance for historic public spaces - the evolving Kala Ghoda art district.
credit: RMA Architects
DALVI
Could you tell describe the processes that allow you to, as you say 'localize the global and globalize the local'? How do these impact design?

MEHROTRA
This establishing of the ‘context of the context’ allows one to go beyond simplistic binaries and, sort of, invert categories in an exciting way. For me the questions of significance, identity etc. are not found categories – these have to be constructed and the only way one can do that as a designer is to situate the site and its reading within the larger, ever evolving context. In this same way the global and local as a binary is not productive and the challenge then is how we invert them, because by localizing the global you get these flows to be more invested in the local. Inversely, the local as a caricature of itself is less useful in comparison to when the local resonates globally or is at least networked globally. Thus for me the exercise of writing, research and teaching in that sense are completely part of the practice as they become the forum for this kind of excavation and research which becomes the basis for practice.

SPARC Public Toilet Prototype
A prototype for public toilets in Mumbai slums - project for SPARC and SDI.
credit: RMA Architects
DALVI
Can you elaborate on the idea of ‘inverting categories’?

MEHROTRA
At the urban level, an example of this inverting of categories to blur binaries is the case of the Kala Ghoda Art district. Situated within a historic district this zone was never an art district. If one had approached the problem using the narrative of the culture that created this environment – such as the canons that determine conservation practise in the UK – we would have frozen this space in time – probably written up its significance and been rather dogmatic about what we should allow there or not. However, when the custodians of an environment are another culture – we have to find other ways of engaging with this process – especially in the post colonial situation of Mumbai. 

By constructing a new significance of the Kala Ghoda are as an Art District allowed the historic and contemporary to blur. The symbolic and ideological significance of the space was drained in a sense to allow the occupation of new use– ones that ultimate drove the process of conservation. In this condition the responsibilities that rest on the architect are even greater as they have to walk the thin line between constructing a new significance and keeping the illusion of the historic built form intact!

Another example is the Slum Dwellers international (SDI) where its very local experience through its international networks resonates globally in terms of lessons, approaches and attitudes emanating out of something that is such a specific condition - life in a Mumbai slum! One could have fetishized and caricatured the local as it is seen as specific, but the moment it is ‘globalized’, in this case through a network, its resonance amplifies in productive ways.


DALVI
The millennium is now almost a decade and a half old now. Do you see trends/tropes in Indian architecture that will have a long-term impact on design, beyond quotidian practice?

MEHROTRA
The kind of architecture we are seeing perpetuated by an infusion of footloose capital is resulting a hardening of the disparities that exist in our society. The built form manifestations of these inequities actually create deadly polarities. Perhaps these inequities have always existed but were less evident in the past. Sometimes the just the illusion of equity is perhaps more productive in the long run in terms of how different parts of society slip into each other’s domains in space. But when architecture begins to play a role in dissuading and perhaps even preventing that blur, that transgression– I think we are setting ourselves up for a highly polarized society.

It is a condition where architecture becomes the instrument to create forms of exclusiveness. In this condition, as architects we have to be mindful of how we create expressions of form and spatial arrangements that don’t get co-opted in a process that is exclusionary. If we have to maintain our relevance to society as practitioners we have no choice but to press architecture to the service of society in more rigorous ways. I think questions of inequity and the role of architecture: place making and dealing with orchestrations of the built environment more generally will have to once again become the focus of both the teaching and practice of architecture.


DALVI
Are you optimistic about our architectural futures, or has 'impatient capital' overtaken us completely?

MEHROTRA
The architecture of Impatient Capital is brittle – its fault lines are already becoming evident – its obvious detachment from place and its unsustainable consumption or resources. Surely as human being we are more intelligent that to be seduced by this paradigm.

I think the greatest role architecture can play in the coming decades in India is to resist strategically the remaking of our cities and built environments in a singular image (like China has done). Instead I think architecture will and should remind us in our daily lives about the richness in India of the pluralistic society we live in.


DALVI
We seem to have opted for this singularity ourselves, as in this current election. Overwhelmingly, or so it seems, those aspiring impatiently for capital, or those impatiently wishing to  express themselves through their capital have elected a government that will attempt to re-jig Indian plurality into a single image.

MEHROTRA
Thank you for this– an incredibly important as well as complicated question!

Whether we have opted for a singularity or not only time will tell. In our system even a majority like this in terms of seats in parliament does not indicate a popular vote of more that 35 or 40%. But yes, it does indicate a singularity of power and its deployment. How this power will be manifest in the built environment we can only speculate about for now. Clearly the rhetoric of the elections has caught the imagination of the vast portion of the country – where aspirations of stability and an increased role of the state in delivering services is clearly what created such a majority for the new government. I think this is more pointedly driven by middle class aspirations for more stable and predictable services – all the way from education and healthcare to mobility and employment.

Thus as a response to this, I believe in this case, with a BJP majority, it will be the deployment of centralized forms of infrastructure- which will support the creation of these crucial services that people aspire for in their daily lives. Completion of ongoing highway projects, perhaps railways and other modes of communications, hospitals, Universities etc. It will be the Chinese model of centralized power structures and the infrastructure that supports that kind of operation.

The effects of this will be two fold. Firstly, the destruction of many existing urban fabrics and also the natural landscape. This will perhaps make cities efficient in terms of mobility and basic infrastructure like water and sanitation but will create many social disruptions. The second will be through the new networks that will open up the vast hinterlands of our many urban centres in the form of small towns growing rapidly and new towns which will be fuelled by the rampant liberation of capita deployment through real estate development in the these fragile locations. This sort of development model can be transformational for a majority of the country’s population but has some obvious disruptive tendencies – the trade-offs and the contestations that involve these trade-offs is what will characterize our politics in this coming decade.


DALVI
Do you think architecture has a role of resistance in this current dispensation? How should it function?

MEHROTRA
Naturally, the question for us is- what is the role of architecture in resisting or facilitating this process? It is here that the role of education becomes critical. Erasing the plurality of our landscape can be resisted at many levels – local and national. So more than ever before we are going to need the profession to simultaneous play many roles: of practitioners, of well organized large scale practitioners, of activists, of community organizers, of inter-disciplinary facilitators, etc. Pluralism can only be reinforced through architecture by encouraging multiple modes of the practices of architecture through a spectrum of scales across the nation. The several hundreds of small town across in India, for example, don't have architects even living and working there– if at all we have any influence currently on these places, it is through professionals in our megacities – this will have to change if architecture has to have any agency as an instrument to resist the rampant remaking of our cities in one image.


DALVI
You have lived, researched and practiced out of Mumbai for several decades now. You continue to be Mumbai's foremost architectural and urban chronicler. In our complex and complicated present, is it possible to effectively preserve its urban integrity, and to function as a cultural custodian of our city?

MEHROTRA
It is. I think the challenge is to not worry about the parts of the city but focus on how one facilitates connections between the parts – makes the adjacencies of disparities and of plurality to cohesively coexist. It is this in between spaces of connections that will lie the most fecund possibilities and potential.

These spaces also become the site of the construction of new cultures and this where the role of architecture and that of the construction of new cultures, new significances in our society and finally identity is formed.

The spaces that I am alluding to more particularly in Mumbai are the post-industrial landscapes, the public spaces that we are reclaiming and safeguarding (all the way from the green spaces in the city and waterfronts to the spaces around our railway stations and public institutions) and more importantly in the interstitial spaces that approximately half our populations resides.

Hathi gian- Elephants and keepers
Image from Hathigaon - Project for Elephants their Keepers. View showing a mahout arriving home to his family after a day of work with the elephant.
credit: Rahul Mehrotra
DALVI
Where is the place and relevance of memory in the post-industrial city?

MEHROTRA
It is scattered and fractured, but it does exist. The form and space takes in this post-industrial condition in Mumbai is at two levels. One where the fracture becomes more acute – work and living gets situated in multiple locations and this is not a neat category. Memory takes on a more temporal form in this condition– not necessarily through architecture only. That’s why I believe festivals have now an amplified role in the life and identity formation process of the city of Mumbai. The second (and probably polar opposite) is the  creation of exclusive gated communities in the city, sometimes in the form of extreme imaginations that have been facilitated by the cluster development idea and at others just as vertical gated communities in the heart of poorer neighbourhoods. In both cases, it is about the occupation of interstitial space within the city, not at the perimeter.

Hathigaon- Home
Image from Hathigaon - Project for Elephants their Keepers. The intimate relationship of the elephant and mahout drives the scale and layout of each home. One of the many considerations to balance was to accommodate the elephant's requirements, while providing a safe environment for children.
credit: Rajesh Vora
DALVI
Your current research is focused on evolving a theoretical framework for designing in conditions of informal growth. In a city like Mumbai, which seems to be slipping into a 'post-planning' phase, what strategies emerge to deal with such conditions?

MEHROTRA
I believe the State cannot absolve itself the responsibility of planning. Planning in fact is intrinsically a state subject. Having said that the question is how can state reengage and at what scales? Naturally the obvious scale for the state’s involvement would need to be infrastructure and facilitating the governance structure that make possible urban form at local levels.

However the state’s imagination about what the city should be limits any effective intervention at any scale. Essentially our narratives about the city set up non-productive binaries – the rich and poor or formal and informal city etc. These force us as designers to ally with one or the other imagination. I think for design to be effective it must consciously dissolve these binaries and I believe design can play a crucial role in doing this.

Ganesh Immersion in Mumbai
Architecture is not the ‘spectacle’ of the city nor does it even comprise the single dominant image of the city. In contrast, festivals such as Ganesh Chathurthi shown here have emerged as the spectacles of the Kinetic City.
credit: Rahul Mehrotra
DALVI
Has your research given fresh directions to address issues of inclusivity, and to redress the polarization that is the consequence of the state outsourcing those processes that we traditionally associated with welfare or socialist governance?

MEHROTRA
My current research looks at this condition of dissolving or blurring these binaries and I describe the current condition of urbanism in India as the Kinetic City. This Kinetic City framework has the potential to allow a better understanding of the blurred lines of contemporary urbanism and the changing roles of people and spaces in urban society.

In most Indian cities, the increasing concentrations of global flows have exacerbated the inequalities and spatial divisions of social classes. In this context, an architecture or urbanism of equality in an increasingly inequitable economic condition requires looking deeper to find a wide range of places to acknowledge and commemorate the cultures and environments of those excluded from the spaces of global flows. These don’t necessarily lie in the formal production of architecture, but often challenge it.

Here the idea of a city is an elastic urban condition, not a grand vision, but a grand adjustment. The Kinetic City obviously cannot be seen as a design tool rather a demand that conceptions of urbanism create and facilitate environments that are versatile and flexible, robust and ambiguous enough to allow this kinetic quality of the city to flourish. Architecture and design more generally play a massive role in how this happens.

In fact we should not use the word ‘inclusive city’ – what we should ask is how through design we can make our cities less exclusive or excluding of people and especially the poor. I am hoping to capture and articulate these observations and approaches in a way that it might useful for the next generation to intervene in these spaces more effectively.

Inequalities in Mumbai
As can be seen in Mumbai, architecture and urban design can heighten inequalities that exist in society.
credit: Rahul Mehrotra

DALVI
The state seems to abhor elasticity, and, as you say, is comfortable within binaries. Will architects therefore have to go beyond their current limitations as interveners in the urban landscape, and establish new roles for themselves?

MEHROTRA
Absolutely! 
Architects will have to find new modes of engaging with influencing the built environment. Naturally this will depend on if architects are motivated to change the polarization that might occur with the state perpetuating the binaries. It will depend on how idealistic we want to be. In a boom economy architects can also get very comfortable with lots of easy projects and a general affluence which is seductive. So as a community we have to construct the correct narratives that will keep us engaged, responsible and connected to the realities that will evolve around us. I believe society invests in us to safeguard and imagine the best spatial possibilities for a society to exist and thrive in. So it is contingent, if we are concerned about our relevance, to not forget this essential role we play in society.


DALVI
Could you give us a brief history of your career as an academic? What are your main concerns in architectural pedagogy today?

MEHROTRA
I entered academics rather accidentally through a chance meeting with the Dean of the University of Michigan who offered me the opportunity to come teach for a term. I loved it! Essentially could not believe I had not done this before and I subsequently returned a couple of years later to the University of Michigan and one thing led to the other and brought me to my current position.

In retrospective my 11 years of teaching have been the most satisfying moments in my career as an architect. In some ways I am glad I went into the academy after a good 15 years of practice as this besides giving me some experience to talk from also allowed me to reflect on a body of work. And in fact this has been the single most valuable thing for me – that is reflect on my practice as I teach. As a teacher you have to make your talk walk.

But more critically, coming from India after 15 years of practice also gave me a different perspective on pedagogy. Coming from a highly pluralistic conditions where many cultures, ways of doing things and many times exist simultaneously, made me think critically about the simultaneous validity of this difference. The way this extended itself into my approach to teaching was to think about different models of engagement and practice and how one might actually build that into a curriculum. Of course this is a complicated and an ongoing project and I do hope I can share this when it’s evolved a little more.


DALVI
How do you approach the teaching of architecture and urban design in India, as opposed to teaching abroad, as in the Harvard Graduate School of Design?

MEHROTRA
In today’s world I think we see similar challenges whether it’s in India or the USA. In fact in India, you see the same conditions in extreme form and thus testing these Ideas in India would actually create better or at least more extreme conditions. I believe theory comes from action on the ground and it is in places like India, China, Latin America and Africa that the action is today.



credit: RMA Architects
RAHUL MEHROTRA
Rahul Mehrotra is a practising architect and educator. He works in Mumbai and teaches at the Graduate School of Design at Harvard University, where he is Professor of Urban Design and Planning, and Chair of the Department of Urban Planning and Design as well as a member of the steering committee of Harvard’s South Asia Initiative.

His practice, RMA Architects (www.RMAarchitects.com), founded in 1990, has executed a range of projects across India. These diverse projects have engaged many issues, multiple constituencies and varying scales, from interior design and architecture to urban design, conservation and planning. As Trustee of the Urban Design Research Institute (UDRI), and Partners for Urban Knowledge Action and Research (PUKAR) both based in Mumbai, Mehrotra continues to be actively involved as an activist in the civic and urban affairs of the city.

Mehrotra has written and lectured extensively on architecture, conservation and urban planning. He has written, co-authored and edited a vast repertoire of books on Mumbai, its urban history, its historic buildings, public spaces and planning processes.

He is a member of the Steering Committee of the Aga Khan Awards for Architecture and currently serves on the governing boards of the London School of Economics Cities Programme and the Indian Institute of Human Settlements (IIHS).








Tuesday, February 24, 2015

Why building smart cities is not a smart idea


Why building smart cities is not a smart idea
Instead of trying to build 100 new cities with doubtful futures, the government should attend to the many places in India that are on the verge of becoming important urban centres.


In the 2014 Union budget, finance minister Arun Jaitley allocated Rs 7,060 crore to the development of 100 new cities in India. This was in keeping with the BJP manifesto for the Lok Sabha election this year.

“We will initiate building 100 new cities,” it promised, “enabled with the latest in technology and infrastructure – adhering to concepts like sustainability, walk to work etc, and focused on specialized domains.”

If the budget allocation is divided equally, each potential new city will get around Rs 70 crore. This amount does not build a city, but can presumably allow a feasibility study.

The refrain of “one hundred” had to be a rhetorical device. In the budget speech, this number became a mantra, with a number of projects given Rs 100 crore of funding. Then came the announcement that 100 new cities would be built.

What background data or realities of our country is this based on? There are eight metropolises in India, 26 Tier-II cities, 33 Tier-III cities and more than 5,000 Tier-IV towns. Current villages with the potential for future urbanisation number more than 638,000. All these are already in existence. These are not the new cities being referred to.

Those fresh, dynamic, extremely smart cities are greenfield developments, laid on land previously untouched. Development would, therefore, be swift, smooth and unhindered by the pesky and cantankerous citizenry that resides in every existing urban set-up.

The potential new cities are to be “based on integrated habitat development – building on concepts like twin cities and satellite towns”. Custom-built cities, emerging in the shadow of older towns, can be sterling examples of progress and best practice, undertaken, no doubt through the currently favored mode of public-private partnerships.

Will this simultaneously breathe new life into the older city, while helping the new one reach its stated potential? As one possible answer, consider Mumbai’s favorite means of redevelopment – hire a developer, erect a shining tower, sell it at market rates. Accommodate in afterthought the original users in a runt, a lesser endowed cousin to the skyscraper built in one corner. Now imagine this at the level of a city.

Urban Renewal
Does urban renewal have to be imagined only in terms of new cities? Such an approach gives up on any possible transformation of existing cities from within as too difficult and unlikely to yield the lucrative returns envisaged in any outsourced enterprise.

The reverse does not stand: if existing cities are to be developed well, then given the number of present urban settlements in India, new cities are not needed at all. All that land that is now rolling nature can remain just that. The new city can only be at the expense of the old.

New cities are designed swathes of infrastructure, imaginary spaces awaiting occupation. What attractors do they offer as potential? In our liberalized, liquidity-based, aspiration-fuelled present, their primary potential would be as investment, not occupation.

I overheard a commuter describing his acquisitions in the upmarket node in Navi Mumbai. “We have three flats in Kharghar”, he said, “but we've never once been there”. Spaces with market rather than social potential are built for instant gentrification, displaying all the hallmarks of new Edens and Elysian Fields, but keeping out Babel. They lack for nothing except life.

Mutant Impositions
New towns are fundamentally unnatural entities. They are vast, mutant super-impositions on landscapes devoid of habitation. Historically, cities grow organically, through accumulation and accommodation, where people come first, not infrastructure. Over time, through largely iterative processes, common law practices coalesce into traditions of urban behavior, remaining inclusive, and then through osmosis with other cities turning cosmopolitan. First settlement, then design. Every great metropolis is testament to this, located next to bodies of water, along caravan trails, next to natural resources. They grow by attracting migrants who see the value in those who have come before them, and learn from it.

Even new cities need a reason for their existence. Jamshedpur and Bokaro Steel had heavy industry to attract workers in the socialist 1950s. Chandigarh, Gandhinagar and Bhubaneshwar were new capitals. Navi Mumbai, on the other hand, envisioned as a twin city to the grand metropolis, took more than three decades to become viable. Lavasa and Amby Valley, exclusive by their very mandate, and despite their large publicity budgets, hardly appear to be urban transformers.

Smart City, Sim City
Planned cities take as much time to come into their own as unplanned towns. In the same manner of towns that grow organically, the individual potential of a planned urban settlement will be reliant on regional transformations, socio-economic and political processes and sheer blind luck.

You might remember Sim City, a vastly popular video game in the 1990s, where you played the mayor of a city. A large part of your time was spent laying out the city – its roads, networks and infrastructure, its public buildings and amenities. You then allowed users to move in, who came like ants chasing honey. Soon you would receive either praise and accolades from your citizens, or – if they did not like your layout – you would face strikes, rioting and arson. Good intentions are never enough.

Why not focus on the urban centers that already are? If only the government could overcome the fear of resistance and inertia from existing populations, overcome the desperation to show instant results, be patient, work for the long-haul well beyond their terms in office, then existing towns, from Tier IV to Tier I can be transformed – first through public participation, then through inclusive policies and the provision of social infrastructure, and finally through “enabling technology and infrastructure, and specialized domains”.

No one can deny that our big cities are overburdened. But for every one of those, there are already a dozen more on the cusp of becoming future cities with potential. If attention is lavished on these instead of the chimeras of a hundred new cities with doubtful futures, new India, with its changing demographics, may still benefit.

As Rahul Mehrotra, architect, academic and urban conservationist recently remarked in a discussion on urban change: “We do not need 100 new cities. What we need are 100 great cities.”


First published in scroll.in, Jul 19, 2014 • 07:00 am

Tuesday, July 22, 2014

Time Out Mumbai- Slow City


This piece was published in an edited version in the latest issue of Time Out Mumbai


Slow City

We must concoct a new name for the extreme sport of sitting in the path of whooshing traffic on Mohammed Ali Road with your back to it. Limb and possibly life is risked for a plate of saffron-hued firni outside Suleman Mithaiwala, but one spoonful is all that is needed to make the risk worthwhile. Above and beyond your head, long haul cars speed past nonchalantly on the snaking flyover with many names, the one that connects the Sir JJ School to the Sir JJ Hospital. At the Al-Madinah, plastic chairs and makeshift tables are always full at this time of year, occupied, quite comfortably by growling bellies in need of satiation.

Once upon a time, when Ramadhan was pronounced Ramzan, the all-denominational greeting ‘Khuda Haafiz’ had not yet been essentialized to ‘Allah Haafiz’, indeed when the concrete reptile flyover under whose grimy underbelly we now cheat death in order to gain the Kingdom of Culinary Heaven was not even imagined, eateries on the cross lane to Minara Masjid and beyond would lay their spread out nearly across the busy Mohammaed Ali Road,. For a month, at dawn and at dusk, vehicular lanes would be re-imagined as food plazas. Bombay’s hordes would descend on Saarvi, Shalimar and Noor Mohammadi, full of piety and perfume in time for Sehri and Iftaar. The moments before sunrise would pass swiftly, suffused with prayer and humility but the nights were long, filled with loud conversation and conviviality.

Life did take a downturn after the unimaginable events of the early nineties, but then life does find a way. Today, Allah be praised, even in its relatively constricted circumstances haleem, nalli nihaari, and a variety of char grilled kebabs occupy the mind as much as firni and maalpua, assorted barfis and the awe-inspiring aflatoon (the word by which the Arabs knew Plato). Elsewhere in the city, politicians hold Iftaar parties to stem the erosion of their flock, while the food corner between the Suleman and Zam Zam confectionaries requires no agenda to flourish.

Ramzan in Mumbai is a month of charity and fasting, but also thirty days of collegiality and general bonhomie. The fasting hours these days are quieter, given a summer that has stretched longer than usual, but evenings, despite the delayed monsoon go on and on, full of good cheer and loud humour. Does fasting make our city a warmer place? We should all try it then. Our city’s streets are used particularly well, transforming into spaces for eating, shopping and prayer. If the rains do not play spoilsport, each lane outside overflowing mosques accommodate the faithful. Azaad Maidaan on the day of Eid becomes a vast makeshift Idgaah.

Unlike other parts of the Muslim world that have taken the more rational path, using calendars to determine the times of fasting, India is still fixated on mandatory sightings of the sliver of moon for beginning the cycle of rozas and, especially for ending them. As children, this was a time for one-upmanship, running up to the terrace and trying to spot the Chaand. This year, the chaand was attested to by several reliable witnesses on Facebook, a public service act that was, in turn duly liked and shared. Whatever works.

In the days before television, Muslim neighbourhoods of Bombay would be woken by a volunteer walking from street to street like a town crier calling the faithful to rise for Fajr prayers. Today, times for commencement and breaking of fasts are easily regulated by downloadable Android and IoS Apps, loaded with alarms that indicate various times of prayer. But the crier’s sonorous voice, often using popular tunes of the day resonates in my memory decades after this tradition gave way to loudspeakers and recorded calls.

We live in a world of punctuated chaos, a term coined by Bill Gates. He alludes to our current times as one of constant upheaval marked by brief respites, unsettling to those who experiencing them. There was a time (that Gates calls punctuated equilibrium) when we believed the world would never change, at least not much, when the full enjoyment of a month that brought the city together was enjoyed at a slower, more deliberate pace.

For me, this pace is represented by tongawallahs and Victoria drivers, those urban transporters who played a crucial role in short-distance commuting in Bombay right until the late seventies. Plying a beat that extended from Colaba to Jacob Circle, these horse carriages could carry four or five persons along Bombay’s North-South roads. After stuffing myself silly at Minara Masjid, staring up at starlit skies unencumbered by flyovers, sky walks or luxury housing, I could slide into satisfied somnolence to the offbeat clipclopping of the horse’s hooves, nodding my head to a rhythm that would take me home. It this slow city that I miss the most.



Sunday, June 29, 2014

Time Out Mumbai - Unforgiving City

This piece was published in an edited version in 
Time Out Mumbai, June 20- July 3, 2014, Volume 10, Issue 22


Unforgiving City

Just how far can you go on forgiving the foibles of our city?

In these pages and elsewhere I have defended Mumbai’s dirt, its density, its congestion, its dearth of open spaces, its overcrowding as natural to the processes of the city. I have extolled the virtues of living together messily in those everyday acts that contribute to its vibrancy and richness. But sometimes you come across a sight that makes you feel that your own leniency makes you an accomplice to something inexcusable.

In the back of a fast moving cab, moving from Metro to Flora Fountain, trundling in the left lane of Mahatma Gandhi Road that is filled with competing four wheelers, I see a decrepit old man laboriously pushing a wheelchair with a frail and visibly ill woman. Life does not seem to have been kind to either of them, and, they are very obviously trying to make their way to Bombay Hospital. The man is negotiating the wheelchair with care, right in the line of oncoming traffic that is not accommodating of his presence in a vehicular lane. He and his charge have no business being there.

I wonder too. But, as I pass them and move ahead it is woefully obvious that the footpath where M G Road turns to meet Mahapalika Marg is simply unfit for anyone to safely push a wheelchair. Walking, even able bodied, is something of a steeplechase. There is encroachment and debris, with little space for pedestrians; trees, hawkers and porta-cabins all grow out of jagged and dangerously irregular paver blocks. There is no length of pavement that is level and true. What else could the old gent do, but to throw caution to the winds, risking not one life but two in the maelstrom of rush hour?

This is too much, even for me. What kind of a city is so unaccommodating that even the infirm and the unwell cannot make their way across it? It is an unfeeling and hostile environment that we have become benumbed to inhabit. I’d like to think that the good city is one we can take for granted. My assumption hardly holds when the pedestrian ways of our city are out of bounds for pedestrians. My gripe is not only about the specially-abled, but for anyone, unfettered by any means of transportation, completely vanilla, on their feet being pushed to the very periphery of presence. 

It is all right, I can argue, that Mumbai really has no open spaces in the European mould, no street-side cafes, no buskers, no flower stalls and souvenir stores, no bespoke urban furniture, no streetlights that geo-position you just by their unique design, no useful signage- our piazzas are our streets. Always have been. We live out our lives measured in walking distances, and latching on to the most meagre of landmarks- shop signs, building corners, even compound walls. As Sahir Ludhiyanvi once wrote: ‘Jitni bhi bildingein thi, sethon ne baant li hai/ Footpath Bambai ke, hai aashiyaan hamaara’. The footpaths belong to us. 

When even this is denied, everyone, panhandler, commuter or flaneur are all exiled from the legitimate city, and are compensated with skywalks built to stop jaywalking, at such heights that trucks carrying idols during the festival season can conveniently drive under. Jaywalking, like jugaad is illegal, but fills the vacuum created by the oversight of the state. The old man and the lady were reduced to doing exactly that by the uncaring nonchalance of those holding municipal responsibility. It occurs to me that, if a mishap should, heaven forbid, happen and either of these two get injured or worse, it is they themselves who would be held accountable and at fault for trying to occupy the vehicular road. 

We are losing those streets that traditionally had very little or slow moving traffic that were once populated by the walking public, doing this and that, other than merely making their way from A to B. Streets, where the pace of life was slower, where one could meet, chat, eat, buy, haggle, curse and move along. Nakhoda Mohalla at one end of Mohammed Ali Road once was a street full of fabric sellers where chiffons and chikan were sold with equal felicity. That was completely ruined with the flyover that swept past one edge. Now Mutton Street, the road that transmogrifies weekly into Chor Bazaar is now on its last legs.

Mumbai is probably the only aspiring world city that does not have a single officially designated pedestrian street. What does this say about its inhabitants and those elected to run it? They seem to have, like Pilate washed their hands and sealed the fate of pedestrians, those pesky critters that move in the manner of the pack donkey. Cars, fortunately for them, are not linearly challenged and predictable in their movements. Just the thought of the pedestrian being considered collateral in the larger fortunes of the city, is distressing, to say the least. 

And as for soft spoken me, I feel just like Howard Beale in Network, who pulls his hair out in great tufts and screams : 'I'm as mad as hell, and I'm not going to take this anymore!' 

Sunday, May 11, 2014

Time Out Mumbai- 2 pieces on Cluster Development


This piece was (in a slightly edited form) published in Time Out Mumbai, Vol. 10, Issue 19, May 2014.


Cluster Bluster

Now that the votes (and the die) for the next government are cast, it does seem that Bombay’s fortunes are nowhere in anyone’s political priorities. In the run up to Election Day, though, there seemed to be one area of emerging consensus. All the candidates (who matter) from the South Mumbai constituency agreed that 'Cluster Development' in the city is the way forward. The only answer.

The biggest problem with our old city, according to them, is its rapidly deteriorating stock of buildings collectively called 'cessed'. These century old piles are filled to the brim with nonchalant tenants paying ‘controlled’ rents and hapless landlords with too few resources for maintenance. As a result these buildings are now decrepit, have common toilets, and are in imminent danger of collapse every monsoon. They are also densely packed together and there is no greenery anywhere.

The panacea for this sorry state is, of course, Cluster Development (aka DC rule 33/9). The argument in its favour is that developing a largish tract of land is less piecemeal, more systematic, and can be 'community driven'. A 40,000 square footprint today can contain several buildings in the inner city. Bringing them down to tabula rasa allows the redevelopment phoenix to soar, up to four times the plot area. These Elysian Fields would provide every stakeholder with a proper (300 sft) unit with toilets inside, lifts, and open spaces around buildings, with trees and lawns. Above all, the rented tag gets converted to ownership, the ultimate wish of every Mumbaikar grihasta. Could anything be better? Two projects at Bhendi Bazaar and Lower Parel are already under construction, so there is precedent too.

Let me be contrarian here. Leave aside the near cliché that such developments only benefit builders and speculators. In making my case against cluster development, I appeal to your urban and civic sensibilities.

Buildings in ‘clusters’ are equally piecemeal, only now the piece is larger. Here, entire neighbourhoods in the dense inner city will potentially be opened out to new vistas of rising skylines, infiltrated by built forms and open spaces that did not previously exist. This is the urban equivalent of pulling out teeth and replacing them with nails instead of dentures.

Our neighbourhoods- Chira and Bhendi Bazaar, Parel and Kalbadevi, Lalbaug and Dongri, all have a scale and uniformity that make up the urban whole. Congestion is the essential urbanity and civic make-up of the inner city. Shop lines open on footpaths, buildings touch buildings familiarly, balconies overlook streets and roofs match up in straight lines, making comprehensible perspectives. And there are people everywhere. Corners are special and built differently, giving identity and helping way-finding.

None of this is sustained in setting back buildings from the street, bounding them in the nutshell of compound walls, CCTV and uniformed security surveillance. Essentially, this large bite is no longer the city that was, only a regurgitated, unfamiliar, aspiration-fulfilling bolus.

Almost all of Bombay's residential neighbourhoods once spoke a ground plus three floors lingo. The city grew through iteration and accretion, just like Bambaiya-speak. Over the years street culture evolved to raising one floor. This happened everywhere, you may live in one such building. Now, imagine a building across your street looming forty floors above you, cutting off sunlight, subjecting you to a wall of heat radiating from air-conditioning units opposite. Such is the price of caprice the older residents of Mutton Street will face in year or two.

Should buildings in bad shape not be repaired? Well, of course they should, but by respecting building lines first. A contemporary, well appointed, state of the art redesign that retains the previous footprint and matches the height and floor-lines of its neighbours on either side is completely possible. Courtesy demands that buildings be re-imagined in their original context, one by one. With broad agreement, every new building may rise by one floor or two, and still retain the harmony of the street. Congestion will remain, but not further densification. Most of Mumbai’s housing requirement can be fulfilled if each residential building is raised one floor. You do the math.

My one disagreement with the cluster model should concern whoever wins the South Mumbai Lok Sabha seat. 33/9 will result in instant gentrification. Either overtly, or through subtle nudge-nudge wink-wink, the older residents will realise they no longer have a place in this new dispensation. Neighbours will be replaced by strangers, humsayas will be lost, local small shops will become untenable, business networks and societal ties, the result of decades of co-existence will dissolve. Ultimately diversity will decrease substantially making the new neighbourhood a confine of homogeneity served in no full measure by 'outsiders'.

This is counter-intuitive, but I do believe that the much derided Rent Control Act helped preserve a social equity amongst the residents of Bombay across half a century. A fixed low rent allowed the very poor to live in the same building with the very rich, and certainly occupy the public realm, the streets outside as equals. With tenancy morphing into ownership this will no longer be the same- as the city you once called Bambai Nagariya gets slowly transformed, the aam aadmi voter in your constituency could well be endangered by the next elections.



The following piece was (in a slightly edited form) commissioned by Time Out Mumbai for their special issue on Bhendi Bazaar, Vol. 9, Issue 12, February 2013.


Splendid Isolation
What Cluster Redevelopment will mean for the city

“Mohalla maa jayaaoon choo!”
Ever since I remember, this is commonly heard in many households. I am going to the Mohalla. The Mohalla is the Bhendi Bazaar. This throbbing heart of Bohra culture in Mumbai is the place to congregate, socialize, conduct small business, pass time, and gorge on pyalis of street side ‘chana-bateta’- a savory of chickpeas and potatoes that could also be ‘packed-up’ for the kids. The Mohalla is for ziyarat, for offering prayers at the Raudat Tahera, the mausoleum where the present Syedena’s father is laid to rest. And of course, if it is Jumma, it must be Chor Bazaar, the Friday-only market on the adjacent Mutton Street, where one can be equal parts flaneur and haggleur.

Urban culture in Mumbai is very real. It is also intangible, and thrives on two assumptions- first, that an urban place in the city can be taken for granted; and second, to paraphrase Robert Frost, when you have to go there, they have to take you in. It is anchored around a very few (and, on occasion, nondescript) physical markers: a left turn here, a shop sign there, a street vendor at the corner. Urban culture is thus, also very fragile. This is true for Bhendi Bazaar, and also for Chira Bazaar, Saat Rasta, Sewri, Parel, or any of the nine or so locations in the city where Cluster Redevelopment is scheduled to happen.

In a city that has replaced planning with speculation and public administration with outsourced anonymity, it is little wonder that the future heart of Mumbai can only be envisioned as a glorious Hausmann-like phoenix, rising out of a tabula rasa. Cluster Redevelopment, based on Clause 33.9 of the Development Control Rules, is the way the state government sees urban renewal in locations populated largely by cessed buildings or historically rented properties. Accepting the premise that the state itself cannot redevelop, the rule allows for private developers to rehabilitate existing users in the same location with some more areas and amenities and offers the developer a substantial pound of flesh for profiteering. While basic humanitarian gestures of temporary re-housing for those existing is built-in, the grand vision is the builder’s entirely, and very naturally based on the attractiveness of the project to potential buyers at full market price.

This vision disregards the intangible, but very real patterns of urban life. Mumbai is Mumbai because the rich and the poor have always lived as humsaya, with homes facing the same street; because the diversity of economic class and religious affiliation has meant nothing, especially in the densest neighbourhoods; because although there are ghettos, especially in the inner city, there are no walled exclusions; because the desire to come together to create an urban place is the result of social accretion over years, very real, even if you can’t put a finger on it. Mumbai is Mumbai not only because of urban homogeneity, but because of social diversity. To presume this the other way round, like cluster redevelopment projects seem to do, is to deny and choke the very spirit of the city.

Look at the New Bhendi Bazaar, this is what we see: a private future built on sixteen acres of south Bombay, imagined by the wealthiest of a Mumbai sub-community in its own image. We see pristine, ‘homes of rest and quiet’, secluded from the rest of the dirty city, your city, by walls or buildings that function as walls. Access into these redesigned acres will now be through gateways that never existed before. We see skyscrapers rising sixty stories abutting the same narrow street on which older four storey structures still exist. We see several buildings demolished to make way for a large park with unobstructed frontage around the Raudat Tahera.

Where did the Mohalla go? Can the same social fabric that held together for a century remain in this upmarket utopia? Can small businesses thrive without their former durable networks? Will Chor Bazaar retain any identity, when one edge of Mutton Street transforms into a barricade?

Cluster redevelopments as private real-estate speculations only take away from the city, both physically and spiritually disentangled from the larger reality of metropolitan Mumbai. While they load fresh urban burdens onto its infrastructure, they deign to exist in splendid isolation, in a rarefied haven of Eloi, while Morlocks outside toil in its grime.

Who speaks for Mumbai in these new projects? We accept the rights of the individual as supreme in our capitalist present. No one denies that better housing, amenities and facilities should be paramount for all. But should we, at the same time, not define responsibilities the same individual has towards the city at large? No quid pro quo?

Woh intezaar tha jiska yeh woh s(h)eher to nahin.


Tuesday, March 25, 2014

Time Out Mumbai- Travel Lite


This piece was published in an edited version in 
Time Out Mumbai, March 14-27 2014, Volume 10, Issue 15

Travel Lite
Those in academic circles probably know this already, but Mumbai has been the international flavor of for quite a few years now. This is especially true for students of architecture and urban design. Each time the monsoon bids Mumbai farewell and her sodden soul slowly dries, cohorts from universities, unknown and ivy-league, travel to her shores for field visits, just like flamingos at Sewri.

After parking themselves in one of the many establishments on or off Colaba Causeway, high-seating Volvo buses are procured and from such rarefied and elevated environments the city is absorbed. Driving down from the Gateway of India (referred to by some as India Gate) to the boondocks of Navi Mumbai, depending on the theme of the semester, the colonial SoBo, the dense inner-city areas of Kalbadevi, Bhuleshwar, the ‘panjra-pol’, the Dhobhi Ghat, the City Improvement Trust precincts of Dadar-Matunga, the former mill and current mall lands, the eastern docklands, the fast-disappearing mangroves and salt pans and ‘slums’ of every stripe are mandatorily observed. Local trains (in non-rush hours) are given custom, the monorail admired, and various skywalks crossed. Getting serious, development plans are procured, Google Maps pored over, terrabytes of jpegs clicked, local colleges of architecture visited and a few brains picked- all this in about three days or so. Oh, of course, Dharavi-darshan happens and 'Kumbharwada' becomes part of international vocabulary. It joins words like 'jugaad', which have already been learnt in advance.

There is quite an abyss between the literature available and the city's reality. In the spirit of academia, much previous reading is prescribed. Suketu Mehta, David Gregory Roberts, Katherine Boo, Dwivedi and Mehrotra, among others form the canon. ‘Slumdog Millionaire’ becomes the visual point of reference. This is pretty obvious when you encounter un-nuanced positions about slums or the role of real estate; cluster housing is fait accompli- a shining pointer to end all woes, after all it is community driven, no? Speculative theories coalesce into New Urbanism projects, learnings from weekend immersions and catch-as-catch-can ethnography informs the iterations of computer extrusions, where high rise developments (the only answer) are clothed with a garb of Bollywood culture.

What does our city offer that attracts so many to it? To be charitable, Mumbai does provide the foreign observer with several contradictions, to paraphrase Whitman, being large and containing multitudes. It is some surprise that trains run on time, but garbage remains uncollected. One family lives in a 2 billion dollar, 20 storied skyscraper residence, while more than half of the city lives in self-built postage stamp housing. The rule of law is indexical of our democracy, but common law applies everywhere. Everyone here walks and talks English, but as a phunny Indian language. However, despite these polarities, true to our common ethos, what you cannot see is vital to understanding and appreciation, but intangibles are often subsumed in the morass of visual documentation. This can lead to some ‘face-palm’ results. Some American students of architecture found the sights and smells of one corner of one street in the city so overwhelming that it became a metonymy for the city as a whole, and resulted in the design of skyscrapers made out of ‘kachra’. 

Nothing interests student practitioners of architecture and urban design and their mentor institutes more than change. The objective is always to make a city ‘more livable’. This is predicated on the understanding of a city as it is as ‘less livable’. Sociology rather than technology is currently the driving force behind change, and alternatives derived to conceptualize ‘better cities’ are the results of surveys and sampling, even if the sample set is a few persons doing muttergashti at street corners, or a paanwallah, say, or a local SIM shop. There is an urgent need to put it all down on paper and soon conceptual charts, three dimensional street views, stitched photo-collages and before/after layouts are all put together and displayed. 

By now, there is entire machinery in place here in the city to receive these visitors and cater to their needs, spaces for work and presentations, large panels for pinning up their work and seminar spaces for discussion, even for the conduct of international conferences. The usual suspects of invited city experts are rounded up from time to time to take on these fights of urban regeneration fantasies, and to give anecdotal and insightful comments and ‘crits’ about the nature of change in Mumbai, which are eagerly lapped up by these wide eyed, travel-lite acolytes. I should know, on occasion I have been one of them.