http://www.mumbaimirror.com/net/mmpaper.aspx?Page=article§id=47&contentid=20080102200801020358202188e234036
A whiff of Goa in Mumbai The reason why Mumbaikars rush to Goa may be nostalgia for a place that reminds them of their past Rahul Srivastava This is the time of the year when we reactivate the Mumbai–Goa hotline with a particular vengeance. Thousands of Mumbaikars zoom off to this tiny state for a temporary respite from their mad city. Is it only the beach parties that pull them to Goa? Or a deeper nostalgia? A nostalgia for a place that reminds them so much of their own past? I know of Juhu residents who are haunted by childhood memories when they visit a quiet south Goa beach. Of friends from Koliwada, Dharavi, who remember how easy it was to catch fish in their own neighbourhood, when they enviously observe commuters in Panjim coolly get off their scooters, drop a line in the Mandovi and pull out a mackerel that they take home for dinner. The nostalgia is heart-felt and deep for many Mumbaikars. And it's a nostalgia that is based on real connections between these two destinations. So real, in fact, that Goa battles its own tendency of becoming like Mumbai all the time as well. Many Goans feel that the twain will meet -- and very soon at that -- in one large urban melting pot. One that is already transforming many Goan villages into slums and its towns into versions of Mumbai suburbs. The point to ponder over is: can Mumbai re-connect with its own Goan heritage? And can this re-connection have any value for its future? By Goan heritage, I don't only mean the common Indo-Portuguese flourishes enshrined in the Bandra, Gorai, Khotachiwadi Matharpakadi architectural legacies. But the structural connection that Mumbai shares with Goa -- its village mode of organising habitats. Just as Goan villages are in danger of being understood as slums in the new urban order that is being superimposed on the state, Mumbai's villages are loosing all possibilities of redeeming themselves from their slum status. The gaothans of the city -- now the object of much scrutiny and debate in the usual FSI mode that we constantly use when thinking of urban development -- are moments in the city that can potentially help maintain some elements of urban sanity. So we don't have to rush off to Goa for an annual escape but can actually walk down a lane and relax in a different time-zone right here, every other day. The gaothans of Mumbai are as much part of the Goa-in-Mumbai imagery as are the common flourishes of their Indo-Portuguese architecture. That's why it's important to pay as much attention when residents of Kumbharwada or Koliwada in Dharavi assert their distinct histories, when they make demands that push forth their own needs to be incorporated within the city's new aspirations in a special way. The sad part is that not only are the developers against the protection of these habitats, but even housing activists are reluctant to deal with their independent spirit. Within the epic-story of Mumbai's housing needs it is easy to view these villages as unfair beneficiaries. It took me a long time to understand that the spirit of Goa in Mumbai does not lie in its architectural flourishes, but in its gaothan history. And it's a history that has remained miraculously alive even under extreme conditions. Let's hope it becomes a basis for some element of civic sanity by our great visionaries intent on making Mumbai a better city. Otherwise it makes absolutely no sense for us to rush off to Goa for an escape from ourselves even as we go about killing every bit of Goa that already exists within. Or maybe it makes perfect sense. • Rahul Srivastava, a PUKAR associate, specialises in urban issues, and writes on traffic, trains, illegal construction, Mithi, monsoon... in short, all things that make Mumbai go grrr
