Fiona Fernandez: Suburban miss

In our student days, by virtue of living a fair distance away from school, the bus ride every morning would end up as a long circuitous ride in the heart of the suburb of Mulund. In course of that 15-20-minute-long journey, we'd be taken around some of the finest buildings of vernacular architecture. Chhajjas, arched windows, long, airy balconies, intricate trellis work were among the many elements that would fascinate us. Of course, our 13-year-old mind hadn't realised that this was a broad school of building design, nor were we aware of its origins. Yet, it was as our first ever rush with any kind of indigenous architecture; well before we discovered Gothic and Victorian masterpieces, and the Indo-Saracenic glory of SoBo.

Our memories of those fleeting, daily glimpses never left us. Even years later, after that route was no longer part of our daily routine, we would make it a point to take a stroll into these older locales on the odd Sunday. Most of these buildings dated to the 1940s and 1950s, with the rare one dating back to an earlier decade. The imposing stone woodwork and outer façades of some buildings, we found out later, bore similarities with Jain temple architecture. And when we came face-to-face with Bhangwadi and the breathtaking Dwarkadish Mandir, it was easy to join the dots. Even minor elements like door knobs, jhoolas and porticoes bore a resemblance. The strong influences, especially from the state of Gujarat, and sometimes, Rajasthan, made for the perfect connect. Separated by over 30 kms in radius, here were two locations - one in the old city and another in a far-flung suburb that celebrated the same style of architecture.

Sadly, the last decade has witnessed a complete visual turnaround of the suburb. Crass commericialisation and mindless planning by greedy builders and land sharks has spelt doom for these reminders of the past, and of a heritage that represented the suburb's cultural fabric.

With each passing year, we'd spot concrete monstrosities rise in the same space where these structures once stood, chipping away at these rich footnotes from the past that defined the identity of Mulund. Suburbs like Vile Parle, Borivli and Ghatkopar that showcased a similar identity, have met with the same fate, without much as a semblance of an effort to save its local heritage.

Nowadays, when we take a detour into these parts - the neighbourhood kirana owner - the archetypal survivor from that era will still sigh over the wonder years, when the Chheddas and Voras of Mulund residing in one of the quaintly-named structures like Kathiawad Niwas, would enjoy their breezy evenings in the hill-nestled suburb over mounds of freshly-made Surti farsan, sipping on slightly sweetened chai, and watch the world go by in slow-mo as their ornate jhoolas would sway, gently.

mid-day's Features Editor Fiona Fernandez relishes the city's sights, sounds, smells and stones...wherever the ink and the inclination takes her. She tweets @bombayana