Get lost!

Opium den where the intoxicant was yours for a few annas: A howdah-holding elephant, as high as the entire first floor of the building, marks the entrance to Bhangwadi. This is where the opium trade in the city flourished. You could buy a bowlful of opium for a few annas. It's quite pointless heading here to buy the contraband any more. The opium stores have given way to medical agencies. Bhangwadi was also the last theatre where plays were performed before the closing down of city playhouses during the plague outbreak in the late nineteenth century.

College project led him here
Being a Parsi from South Mumbai, Mehta would wander through the narrow alleys that characterise the area while on his way to the fire temples in the vicinity. It also helped that his father had an office right there. But his association with the chaotic quarter turned concrete when he focussed on it as part of an urban design exercise while he was pursuing architecture. "Until then, I was only partly familiar with the area. Then suddenly, I was looking at Development Plan (DP) maps and trying to comprehend a myriad histories," recalls Mehta while sipping on cutting chai that a waiter who sauntered out of Laxmi Vijay Hotel, handed him.

The college project demanded that he spend hours here, walking with his head held high, not out of pride he clarifies, but because many of the most interesting architectural motifs were on the high facades, under canopy-like windows or on the crown of gigantic gates. The 34 year-old struggled with buildings that were neither archived nor built as monumental or official buildings. "You don't know why a cow stands at the entrance of one building or why a Star of David shines on another. I couldn't help stare at at them, trying to read them like a novel."

No meat, eggs chalega: The facade of Bhatia Wadi, where author Saroj Pathak lived in the 1930's. In her book, Pathak describes the pressures of living in a wadi, where the rules and regulations were spelt out at the entrance. Even today, eating non-vegetarian food in the premises is frowned on. Only recently, the rule was relaxed a little to allow residents to eat eggs.

Security guard of a different kind: Sculptures like that of a guard at the entrance of Krishna Baug are a common but ignored site in Bhuleshwar. Masons and craftsmen were brought from across the country to work on these structures. This is also a reason why there are so many dharamashalas and chawls in the area. They were mainly constructed by traders and patrons to accommodate the migrant population.

Buildings without architects
The more time Mehta spent moseying here, the more he craved to get lost, quite literally. "These are middle class buildings not Rajabai Tower or the Gateway of India. The structures were probably were never drawn out on paper before being built. Maybe they didn't even have an architect work on them. They were probably just made by masons and craftsmen who travelled from different corners. And yet, they present a palpable history of the city," says the author inviting us to visit on a weekend to see how the area changes disguises from a frenzied commercial hub to a lazy residence.

Redevelopment Vs Conservation
The cover of Mehta's book shows a tall, under-construction building that looms behind Hira Baug, where Mehta's favourite resident of Bhuleshwar, Premiji, once resided. The picture is symbolic of the situation that residents of the area face. While on one hand, the old, dilapidated buildings crumble each monsoon, on the other, conservationists rue that rampant construction will rob the area of its essence.

Two years ago, the Remaking of Mumbai Federation submitted The C Ward Project to the state government in an attempt to redevelop the entire area. But the government hasn't given a formal sanction so far. And a number of new structures have begun to replace older ones already. While Mehta is passionate about the area, he isn't part of a gang that's crying hoarse supporting conservation over redevelopment. "As much as I would like to see some of these building restored, I can understand that some are in such a dilapidated condition, that they can't stay."

Not a cowshed but paper market: The entrance to the Gaiwadi area is marked by two cow sculptures, and that is how the area gets its name. Gaiwadi is known for rows of paper shops, where you can find the latest designs of wedding cards, apart from all kinds of fancy, recycled paper.

Before the reles, horses lived here: The house in Kranti Nagar where the landlord Nanabhai Sadanand Rele lived. The building was initially just a one-storey structure with a community hall on the first floor. As the Rele family expanded, another floor was added to accommodate the entire family. Kranti Nagar was constructed on land meant for stables. The stables were used to house horses owned by the British.

Stories behind the buildings
Considering that the area has seen at least six generations of a family live here, there are quite a few colourful characters who hail from Bhuleshwar. Mehta has explored the stories of neighbourhoods through their prominentresidents.

The evolution of Kranti Nagar from a horse stable to a residential area, is described through its landlord Nanabhai Sadanand Rele, who also built himself a home here. Author Saroj Pathak, who married outside the community, represents the oppressions of living in the patriarchal Bhatia Wadi, while Premiji (the author's favourite character) represents the modernity that he brought into Hira Wadi through the first publishing house in the the city that he established. Alice in Bhuleshwar may not bear faces of these citizens but a plethora of pictures of edifices connect the reader to the lives each of them lived.

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