Dharavi

Mumbai is a land of dreams. And who says that only rich can dream? The poor who desire to earn a livelihood in the dreamland throng the city in abundance every day. But the sky scrapers bedecking the skyline of Mumbai cannot be home for everyone. So, in a city where house rents are among the highest in the world, Dharavi provides a cheap and affordable option. Dharavi, in central Mumbai (Bombay), is home to up to a million people and is notoriously known as Asia’s biggest slum (as many as 18,000 people crowd into a single acre). Rents here can be as low as 185 rupees ($4) per month. Dharavi borders three railway lines and is near several major roads. It’s convenient connectivity and central Mumbai location, makes it a real-estate developers dream. But while some call it an embarrassing eyesore in the middle of India's financial capital, its residents call it home.

Even in the smallest of rooms, there is usually a cooking gas stove and continuous electricity. Many residents have a small color television with a cable connection. Some of them are even richer to afford a video player. Dharavi also has a large number of thriving small-scale industries that produce embroidered garments, export quality leather goods, pottery and plastic. Most of these products are made in tiny manufacturing units spread across the slum and are sold in domestic as well as international markets.

Due to its locational benefits, the state government has plans to redevelop Dharavi and transform it into a modern township, complete with proper housing and shopping complexes, hospitals and schools. It is estimated that the project will cost $2.1bn. According to the slum redevelopment plan, most Dharavi residents would be given a free, legal apartment in a modern concrete block on the same site. The Dharavi scheme is unique because it’s being driven by the private sector, not by international aid or tax-payers money. The poor would get a free home in a prime location, but the scheme allows the private companies to use the land left over from tower blocks to build shopping malls or office space, for profit.

But is this proposal acceptable to the millions of people dwelling in Dharavi?

Let’s find out from a few. Some welcome the free flats, but Aarti (who works in a tiny market stall made of corrugated stall) says she cannot earn a livelihood in a high-rise flat.

Families, who were given flats in the high rise, said they preferred their ground-level shack because it was larger than their free apartment, and because the crime rate was higher in that concrete block. Many of those who had been given a free home had sold it to middle class families and moved away. They made a sizeable profit in Mumbai, a city of sky-high property prices, but ended up moving far from the city centre.

Meera Singh, another resident of Dharavi, says, “What reason would I possess to move into a 225-square-foot (21 square meters) apartment, even if it were free? I have nearly 400 square feet (40 square meters). "Informal housing" is good for me. I receive 1,100 rupees a month from the furniture workers and another thousand from renting my basement. Why should I give this up for a seven-story apartment building where I'll be saddled with fees, including "lift" charges? I don’t like to ride in elevators. They give me jitters.”

Residents of Dharavi’s famous "Pongol Houses" object to the idea of being forced to leave the economic powerhouse of Mumbai. These men hail from distant Jharkhand state. They work on building sites and all live in this tiny room. They pay a nominal rent, and send all their money back home to their families, whom they visit for a month or two each year. As tenants, they would not receive free flats in the redevelopment scheme.

When the clock strikes 5:00 A.M., every available inch of open space seems to be converted into a toilet in Dharavi. Obviously, in a place where there is only one toilet for every few hundred people, the prospect of having one's own bathroom would seem to be a powerful selling point. But even this is not an allurement for many Dharavi locals. "What need do I have of my own toilet?" asks Nagamma Shilpiri, who came to Dharavi from Andhra Pradesh 20 years ago and now lives with her crippled father and 13 other relatives in two 150-square-foot (14 square meters) rooms. Certainly, Shilpiri is embarrassed by the lack of privacy when she squats in the early morning haze beside Mahim Creek. But the idea of a personal flush toilet offends her. To use all that water for so few people seems a stupid, even sinful, waste.

When I picture the dilapidating conditions in which millions live in Dharavi, it sends shivers down my spine. Ideally I would assume anyone to be excited about the prospect of being offered a much better and decent life. But on the contrary, people in Dharavi are strongly objecting to the upgradation they are being offered. My mind is constantly debating whether to empathize with the complacency of the socio-economic conditions of the people of Dharavi or contest the ignorance of these illiterate and poor people.

Think and let me know!!!