
Adjust is a word common to the Mumbai suburban train. Thousands of people get on it daily, flesh against flesh; four people sit on three-seater benches and, between stations, those in the compartments dance to a game of musical chairs so precise that it almost seems rehearsed. People pile onto the carriages before the train comes to a full halt amidst howls of ‘shift’ and ‘adjust’.
The resourcefulness of space utilisation transcends to the railway tracks, where some have managed to grow crops along unused rail setbacks. Debris is turned into fertile soil and a garbage dump becomes a productive agricultural plot. The city is a Darwinian dream, living proof of the survival of the fittest. In Mumbai, it is not the strongest species that survives; it is the one most adaptable to change. And in that regard, ad-hoc urban forms thrive in the Maximum City.
Mumbai has a severe shortage of open public spaces. In the Southern peninsula, Cross Maidan and Oval Maidan become impromptu cricket grounds and picnic spots for university students. Thirty kilometres north of that is Borivali National Park, now renamed Sanjay Gandhi National Park, one of the largest natural reservations within an urban area. Other than that, only a handful of pocket parks tucked away haphazardly in up-market neighbourhoods serve the metropolis. Without collective spaces for leisure and self-expression, where do 18 million people packed in 20-a-square-metre go?
The streets. As the only open space available, the street becomes a place for social interaction and shared transactions. Used to adjusting and adapting, Mumbaikars have mastered the art of reclamation. The city has become a 600 square kilometre timeshare where spaces get recycled three or four times a day, catering to the needs of shifting populations. The daily transformation accounts for physical requirements, but is also fuelled by economic and cultural forces. The street is where the formal meets the informal in its most incipient manifestation. The businessman buys from the curbside paanwalla and office workers commune outside hole-in-the-wall masala chaimasala chai shops to create micro-plazas along the street.
The city is a Darwinian dream, living proof of the survival of the fittest

The contrast between the rigidly designed streetscapes and their Mumbai re-appropriation is especially dramatic in South Mumbai. The Indian identity reinvents streets of British design, displaying an exquisite demonstration of cultural crossbreeding. Canonical ideas of ownership and access get redefined, blurring the line between common and shared.
R. Kamani Marg, the main road crossing Ballard Estate in the Mumbai Port area, is a fascinating case study. Built on land reclaimed during the early 20th century, it follows a typical British dual carriageway street section. Three wide lanes on either side are divided by a planted median. Beyond the asphalt road, generous cobble-paved sidewalks are lined with trees of broad foliage, whose canopy creates an oasis of delightful microclimate. This version of the street is visible at eight in the morning, before the heavy morning commute, which peaks between 9:30 and 10 am. By midday, the road is transformed beyond recognition.
Space that belongs to one overnight, belongs to another in the morning
Three lanes become three quarters of one. Cars park diagonally along the fast lane, from the median, all the way into a portion of the middle lane. Street stalls take over sidewalks far beyond the ‘Hawking Zone’ sign. Taxis and chauffeur-driven cars idle by the vendors, blocking the slow lane, whilst the remaining portion of paved road is in heavy dispute between passing cars, motorcycles, bicycles and pedestrians. It remains a mystery how there are not more accidents on a street that changes guise seamlessly throughout the day.
By evening, parked cars gradually vacate the area and waves of train commuters take on the newly available space. The ‘Shared Taxi’ sign painted on the pavement in improvised yellow demarcates the place where taxis line up to take passengers from Ballard Estate to Churchgate station; four strangers squeezed into a taxi presents in itself a challenge to any preconceived notions of private and public space. Street hawkers pack up and as night falls the pavement dwellers emerge. They line cardboard boxes along the sidewalks in preparation for a good night’s sleep. More established inhabitants have settled in adjacent streets in bamboo-and-plastic shelters that have bedroom, hall and kitchen (the typical components of a Mumbai apartment) all in one space. The curb becomes a communal toilet that empties into the rainwater drains, this too divided into different shifts between men and women.

Left: Early morning (Intended design)
Right: Middle of the day
At the break of dawn stray dogs bark to wake up remaining stragglers. The street cleans up as the sun comes out and the city sweepers stroll their carts block after block. By eight in the morning, the original design of the dual carriageway road appears once again and the daily ritual of transformation starts afresh.
The phenomenon is seen throughout Colaba and Fort, where colonial roads take on changing identities. The re-appropriation extends far into the city, however, and every street caters to multiple uses throughout the day and the year. Leisure and recreation are essential to urban living; when not provided, city dwellers make their way around regulated design to accommodate communal expression.
Mumbai has a unique way of processing design. The reimagined use of the street changes ideas about individual property and the perception of common ownership; space that belongs to one overnight, belongs to another in the morning. In a place where people devise resourceful alternatives for what design fails to provide, the role of the architect is never static. An ideal streetscape must embrace the nuances of place before reverting to a godsend formula. Time plays a crucial role in preempting the needs of a city as dynamic as Mumbai. The emerging needs of the ever-changing city will inevitably continue to alter the built environment in unpredictable ways. We must therefore envision flexible spaces where design serves as an enabler of innovative space utilisation, rather than a constrictor of predetermined social forms.
Laura Amaya is an architect and urban researcher. Her main interest revolves around the role of design as a catalyst for development. Originally from Bogotá, Colombia, she is currently based in Mumbai, India.
All Photos: Laura Amaya



Comments (0)