The city is not a concrete jungle; it is a human zoo.

Desmond Morris, English Zoologist

As the skylines of urban centres undergo rapid transformation — reshaped by new policies, ambitious visions, glitzy designs and relentless construction—the above-mentioned quote offers a timely reminder: at their core, cities are about people and their stories, hierarchies and survival.

But what happens when, in the process of rewriting a city’s destiny, the very people who built it are eased out of the equation? While this is a challenge faced by most countries, it is perhaps felt more acutely in swiftly developing nations like India, one of the fastest-growing economies today. And nowhere is it more visible than in its most cosmopolitan and densely populated financial capital, Mumbai.

The fascinating metropolis in the Indian subcontinent has always been the subject of literature, cinema, art and music. A true melting pot that welcomes people from all over the globe, Mumbai is a destination where dreams allegedly come true—the energy and the ‘can do’ vision similar in spirit to a New York or London. But that’s where the similarities end. As India’s wealth increases, so does the inequality, leaving some of its most vulnerable by the wayside.

The glossy wrapping of development—often symbolised by edgy, tall gated communities with tech-led amenities—hides the uncomfortable truth of millions being pushed to the margins for the benefits of a few. And it is this human cost of growth that acclaimed journalist Sidharth Bhatia uncovers in his recent book Mumbai: A Million Islands.

The founding editor of news website The Wire and long-term Mumbai resident offers a piercing look at the impact of its transformation on its working class. While his previous works on Mumbai focused on pop culture and society (Cinema Modern: The Navketan Story, Amar Akbar Anthony: Masala, Madness, Manmohan Desai), his latest book goes deeper, presenting a raw, unsparing account of the metro’s evolution.

The pages explore Mumbai’s origin story, the way the colonial rulers merged seven islands into a unified region and the many journeys it has taken since then. Whether it’s the mill strikes, the prohibition-era restrictions, the increasing ghettoisation or the mall takeover and whispers of change in the slums and red-light districts, Mumbai: A Million Islands offers a sweeping yet intimate documentation of a city forever in transition. Adding heft to the narrative are interviews with the marginalised, representing a huge segment of society whose lives are slowly being erased. Mainstream media may ignore these realities but Bhatia’s journalistic precision layered with empathetic storytelling, is an awakening to how ecosystems that once laid the foundations of a city are now being forgotten. In a conversation with Wknd., Bhatia delves into the changed psyche of “Maximum City” and what it means for the people that inhabit it.

Mumbai has been written, filmed and sung about endlessly. After decades of engaging with the city as a journalist and resident, what surprised you most while writing Mumbai: A Million Islands?

True, there is an endless fascination about Mumbai, or Bombay as it used to be known. So much has been written and sung about it, so many films have been made with Mumbai woven into the story. But as I say in the book, this city is a “Moveable Feast”, as Hemingway said in the context of Paris. It changes and shape shifts all the time. Yet there are stories to be discovered everywhere. I found, however, that the transformation of Mumbai is taking place at a rapid pace and many of the human stories that are emerging are not being recorded. These are tales of loss, displacement and of major spatial and social changes that are taking place. The view at the bottom is being missed. I set out to find some of those stories and many of them surprised me. 

The erasure of communities and ecosystems that once were central to the city, is not a sudden development. But what has changed in the last 10 years that alarms you the most?

In the last decade or so, it is like a hurricane that is sweeping everything away. This has not happened in the past, not at such speed and ferocity. I felt this had to be recorded.

How did you negotiate your own emotions while documenting the evolution of the city? Did you feel a sense of disillusionment at the increasing isolation of communities?

I wouldn’t call it disillusionment. I had a sense of what was happening but when I delved deep into it, I was shocked at how wide and how deep this transformation was. 

Be it fisherfolk, mill workers or informal labourers, what does it say about contemporary Mumbai and its upper middle and privileged classes that the absence of whole communities barely registers as a loss?

That is an important question. The one reason for the better off segments not noticing the gradual erasure of a large section of the populace is that it is not brought to the notice. A skyscraper is advertised with glamorous colour photographs, but the removal of the community there is not mentioned in the news sections. Our media is now focussing on the dazzle and the glamour, but have forgotten and therefore, ignore that it comes at a cost.

Much of your work focuses on neighbourhoods Mumbai has pushed to its margins—Behrampada, Dongri, Mumbra, etc. Was there a particular interview or neighbourhood that stayed with you long after you finished writing?

All the stories I heard—and the book is full of them—had their own unique quality, but I think what stayed with me was the determination of these citizens to live with dignity and not sound like victims no matter the circumstances. That stayed with me. I think that is very much a Mumbai quality. In fact, victimhood is not a Mumbai trait. Some of it is circumstantial; it is not easy to just sit back and mope about your life, not if you want to earn a living. But much is woven into the DNA of the city. People come here and live here to make a living and do so with dignity. And they then get on with it.

Which are the world cities that you admire? What do they get right about their infrastructure, aesthetics and the X factor that goes beyond real estate?

I have travelled in different parts of the world, mainly as a tourist, though I have also lived abroad. I read about cities that are trying to become more attuned to their citizens’ needs—creating pedestrian plazas, better transportation, health, and strict zoning laws. In the end however, the real estate lobby carries a lot of clout.

Shorn of glamour or the skyline and gated communities, what, for you, is the moral measure that defines a great city?

Just keep your citizens’ needs first—that, for me, is critical. And activist citizens who raise their voice in the face of injustice and even smaller infractions. A police service that responds. Policy makers who are not deaf. And, as Mahatma Gandhi said, wipe that tear from the poorest and most helpless person in the country.

Climate pressure, inequality and technology are reshaping urban lives across the world.  How do you see these aspects change cities over the next decade and Mumbai in particular?

There is some thinking going on about climate change, since Mumbai is a coastal city and could get flooded. But then permission is being given to build more skyscrapers on the sea front. I don’t see much being done (there). Technology has changed the way government services are delivered and that is always welcome. As for inequality…well, that’s what the book is about which is not being addressed at all.