One of the earliest planned neighbourhoods of Bombay, Shivaji Park in Dadar was conceived in order to decongest the mega city’s residential and commercial centre after the plague epidemic of 1896. With its massive playground named after the Maratha warrior king, gorgeous Art Deco buildings and the great Arabian Sea beyond, Shivaji Park was a coveted residential area long before Bandra and Juhu.
In this little gem of a biography, Shanta Gokhale, author, cultural critic and longtime resident of the area, brings together key events and individuals to create a matchless portrait of the neighbourhood. Through her conversations with friends and neighbours, she relives the thrill and novelty of moving from congested chawls to flats that ensured privacy and the unheard-of luxury of piped gas back in the 1930s.
She recalls the politically charged decades of the 1950s and ’60s, when P.K. Atre’s voice reverberated through the grounds of Shivaji Park during the United Maharashtra Movement and Bal Thackeray launched the Shiv Sena. She also writes of the illustrious people who have contributed to the cultural fabric of Shivaji Park: the freedom fighter Senapati Bapat; town planner N.V. Modak; classical musician Sharadchandra Arolkar; veteran actress Sulabha Deshpande; and cricketers Sachin Tendulkar and Vinod Kambli, among others.
The designated playground of the neighbourhood, she argues, is also one of the city’s most democratic spaces where hundreds walk every morning and evening in the shade of tall and gracious trees; where people young and old gather around the ‘katta’ to talk politics or share a moment of love. And even as she celebrates the grace and spirit of Shivaji Park, Gokhale also notes how, despite the best efforts of its residents, the area is threatened by rampant redevelopment, and how the sense of community that has always defined it is slowly eroding.
Dadarkars often say that Dadar-28 is an emotion. Sometimes, satirically so. Author has captured that elusive essence in 176 pages. The book has none of the maudlin pride which historical accounts of small neighborhoods tend to have. Narrative is wistful of the glorious past yet graceful to acknowledge the present realities.
I also enjoyed reading the factual tidbits about the people of Dadar through the centuries (yes, centuries. Dadar (apparently) is that old!). This book has given me new eyes to look at the same old familiar Shivaji Park.
Shivaji Park, Dadar 28: History, Places, People by Shanta Gokhale is a delight to read that takes readers to the many stories revolving around Mumbai’s best known landmark. The first chapter traces the origin of the neighbourhood around Shivaji Park after the plague epidemic in 1896- 97 that eerily mentions about people running away from quarantine and poor people moving away.What an uncanny co-incidence that I would pick this book at this time of Covid 19 related anxieties.
Why would a neighbourhood park be deserving of a book, one may well ask. But then Shivaji Park is not a regular park but one that is attached to political journeys, a part of cricket history and many other well-known luminaries who lived in its immediate neighbourhood. Shanta Gokhale’s writing is intimate, is full of insights and never loses its way in reminiscing about the past leaving the reader in you enthralled in the way she reveals one layer here, another there: from the architecture of heritage buildings, to the shift of life in Chawls giving way to apartments, the social practice of putting in a separate door for sweepers, the mix and match of cultures and people.
I found it a fascinating read and must say, it made me feel like I knew Shivaji Park just a bit better now.
This book is a part of series of books from 'Speaking Tiger' publications on city neighborhoods. This one, as the name suggests, has been written on Dadar/Shivaji Park or Mumbai-28.The book begins with the history of the region, then to the colonial times and events that happened then, and finally culminates with the current scenario. The language is simple but sometimes the book may be a slog fest as same sort of content is served out in the pages. Furthermore, a detailed map of the place should have been added. But, considering that the author has put substantial effort to write about intricate details of Dadar (it shows in Chapter 8 and 9) even though she was eighty two when the book came out, I will regard this a great "city book". It is a four out of five stars for me.
We often think we know a place because we know its address.
We know the roads. We know the buildings. We know where to get tea. We know which corner is crowded in the evening. We know where people walk, where children play and where politicians once stood behind microphones.
But knowing a place is not the same as knowing its memory.
That distinction is at the heart of Shanta Gokhale’s Shivaji Park – Dadar 28: History, Places, People.
And perhaps that is why this book works so well.
Shivaji Park is one of those Mumbai names that carries several identities at once. For some, it is cricket. For others, politics. For some, Marathi cultural life. For others, Art Deco buildings, the sea breeze, morning walks, childhood memories or simply a familiar route home.
Gokhale understands this multiplicity.
Instead of writing a conventional history of a neighbourhood, she creates something far more intimate: a portrait assembled from chroniclers, residents, conquerors, memoirs, novels, anecdotes, conversations and her own memories as a long-time resident.
The result feels less like reading about a neighbourhood and more like sitting with someone who has lived there long enough to remember what existed before the present version of the place arrived.
That is an important difference.
Because cities are usually remembered through their monuments.
People remember gateways, stations, skyscrapers and famous roads.
Gokhale reminds us that cities are also remembered through ordinary domestic details.
The movement from chawls to flats.
The arrival of piped gas.
The changing idea of privacy.
The small social arrangements that once seemed completely normal.
The people who lived next door.
The conversations that happened while walking.
The trees that provided shade.
These details may appear insignificant when they happen. Decades later, they become history.
And this is where I found the book particularly compelling.
History is often presented as something that happens to people.
Gokhale shows that history also happens inside people's homes.
The political history of Shivaji Park is equally fascinating. The grounds have witnessed the charged atmosphere of the Samyukta Maharashtra movement, the resonant voice of P. K. Atre, and the emergence of Bal Thackeray and the Shiv Sena.
But the book does something subtle here.
It doesn't allow Shivaji Park to become merely a political symbol.
That matters.
A neighbourhood can be associated with a political movement without being reducible to that movement.
It can be predominantly Marathi without being culturally uniform.
It can carry strong political memories while simultaneously producing artists, musicians, actors, sportsmen, intellectuals and ordinary families whose lives have nothing to do with political power.
Gokhale's Shivaji Park is therefore much larger than the stereotype attached to it.
The roll call of people connected to the neighbourhood makes that diversity visible: Senapati Bapat, town planner N. V. Modak, classical musician Sharadchandra Arolkar, actress Sulabha Deshpande, and cricketers such as Sachin Tendulkar and Vinod Kambli.
But the real protagonist is neither Sachin Tendulkar nor Bal Thackeray.
It is the neighbourhood itself.
And perhaps even more specifically, it is the idea of community.
The maidan becomes important because it is one of the few spaces where different kinds of people can occupy the same physical space without necessarily having anything else in common.
People walk there.
Children play there.
Old friends meet.
Politics is discussed.
Relationships begin.
Arguments happen.
Memories are created.
That democratic quality of a public space feels increasingly precious in today's Mumbai.
We have become very good at building.
We are perhaps less good at preserving what cannot be measured in square feet.
A building can be reconstructed.
A road can be widened.
A shop can be replaced.
But what happens when the invisible network of familiarity disappears?
That is where Gokhale's concern about redevelopment becomes more than an architectural complaint.
It becomes a question about what exactly we mean when we say a city is developing.
If redevelopment gives us newer buildings but takes away the relationships, routines, trees, public spaces and shared memories that made a neighbourhood distinctive, have we really preserved the neighbourhood?
Or have we simply preserved its name?
I don't think Gokhale offers a neat answer.
And I am glad she doesn't.
Because this is not a book about freezing Shivaji Park in some romantic version of the past.
The past had its own inequalities, limitations and prejudices. Nostalgia can be selective. Every generation tends to remember what it loved and conveniently forget what it endured.
That is perhaps one limitation of writing about a beloved neighbourhood through memory: memory is powerful, but memory is never neutral.
Yet Gokhale's personal intimacy is also the book's greatest strength.
She doesn't pretend to be an invisible historian.
She is a participant.
She remembers.
She talks to people.
She observes.
She reconstructs.
And through that process, the neighbourhood acquires a human pulse.
What I liked most about Shivaji Park – Dadar 28 is that it made me think about the word "place."
We use it casually.
We say, "I am from this place."
But what does that actually mean?
Is a place the land beneath our feet?
The buildings around us?
The people we know?
The memories we carry?
Or is it the combination of all these things?
Perhaps a place survives only as long as its people continue to recognise something of themselves in it.
That makes Gokhale's book quietly relevant beyond Shivaji Park.
Every city has neighbourhoods that are changing faster than their memories can keep up.
Every generation inherits a place, modifies it and eventually hands over something different.
The uncomfortable question is what we choose to carry forward.
Shivaji Park – Dadar 28 doesn't give us a simple answer.
It gives us something better: a way of looking.
After reading it, I suspect I would never again see Shivaji Park merely as a maidan.
I would see the morning walkers.
The cricketing dreams.
The political history.
The old buildings.
The conversations.
The people who stayed.
The people who left.
And the memories that remain even after the physical city begins to change.
Perhaps that is what a good book about a place should do.
It should make a familiar place unfamiliar again.
And make us realise that the places we think we know may contain entire histories we have simply been walking past.
Who should read it?
Anyone interested in Mumbai, urban history, architecture, Marathi culture, cricket, politics or the evolution of neighbourhoods will find plenty here. But you don't have to be a Shivaji Park resident — or even a Mumbaikar — to appreciate what Gokhale is doing.
Because ultimately, this is not only a book about Shivaji Park.
It is about what happens when a city starts forgetting the people who gave its places meaning.
And that is a question worth asking in every city.
Shivaji Park by Shanta Gokhale is as the name suggests the book about Shivaji Park, one of the first planned localities and a well known landmark in Dadar, Mumbai. It's about how it came into being after the plague of 1896 in to order to decongest the chawls. 🌊 The book takes us into the lives of people involved in not just the making of the place but also the ones who have let it stay the way it is. The warriors who played a major role in forming of Shivaji Park, the freedom fighters during the pre independence period, the politicians during the independence and post independence time, the artists, the cultural enthusiasts and the famous and some not so famous residents of Shivaji Park. 🌊 Starting off each chapter with an article or a letter from archives, this book takes you back in time and gives us a glimpse of how the place changed over the years. Being a resident of Shivaji Park for 80 years herself, the author pours her heart out in this beautifully written biography of a place that is so famous. But it's only when you read the book, you realise there is so much more to it than just the reason for which it is famous for. 🌊 You don't belong to Shivaji Park or Dadar or Mumbai. Then why would you want to read this book, you'd ask. But believe me, you need not be anywhere related to the place to feel a connection with the book. 🌊 There's nothing great about a book that makes you nostalgic when it's situated at a place where you've been or where you've stayed. But if a book that is based at a place where you have never been or hardly had any connection with and yet it makes you feel nostalgic and make you feel home then you can be sure that there's something really great about the way the author has written it. And this book is just that. You don't have to have stayed, seen or ever been to Mumbai to enjoy this book. It will make Shivaji Park, Dadar and Mumbai your home by just the sheer beautiful writing. 🌊 With sarcasm so on point and a writing that's witty, the author ensures that this book that could've become one boring book about history and facts about a place that may or may not be of any relevance to you, makes one enjoyable journey for you.
The subject and the author of the book are a perfect match. If remarkable writers were asked to write about their neighbourhoods, and a list were made, this book will feature in top 20. There are two striking things apart from good writing that make the book remarkable: Length and localised wisdom.
On length, it's a rare series with books that are short. Which I felt is a result of really good editing. Nothing is extra, or winding. Sentences don't spill over into extra showmanship of prose.
On localised wisdom, only Shanta Gokhale knows this subject too well. She maybe the best historian of her neighbourhood, most passionate advocate for its issues, and an expert who has gathered wisdom from other experts in different domains.
The ideal reader for the book is a person curious about neighbourhoods generally, how they appear, art deco buildings, and contemporary issues of power and politics in Indian neighbourhoods.
There are fewer books that capture the history of Shivaji Park, in my view, and this should be the first book to read.
It's best to read this book with a google map open of the neighbourhood to grasp the spatial setting well.
If there is a book that can take you on a walk through its pages, this is it! Oh, what a pleasure-read! The author explains the place, its name, the names of some of its streets and buildings, includes interviews of some of the veteran residents, mentions some aspects of the politics in that area, the art and artists and journalists and sports originating from this place, and the life of commoners there. The heritage aspect is also presented well. One of the best places in Mumbai, written by an author who has and also currently lives there, Shivaji Park could be breathed in from these pages. Whether you have visited the place prior to reading this book or not, you might surely want to once you finish reading it.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
My parents grew up close to this park and told me lots of stories of it. I loved how the author gave these stories so many colours through this book. She tells us about the many buildings around the park and the people that called them home. She spoke about how the park came to be in a city as crowded as Mumbai. She spoke about her own history growing up in this area. It was a memoir and historical text. I would recommend this to anyone interested in urban history of Mumbai.
Shanta Gokhale articulates beautifully everything I feel about the changing locality of Shivaji Park. So much of this book stays with me but it's these few lines in particular that I'd like to mention here, "...but for all you know history will describe this as progress. Which, if I can repress my nostalgia and preoccupation with heritage, I should admit it is.".
The book is wonderfully well-researched, and the writing is even better. As someone who spent their formative years in this neighbourhood, I found it particularly fascinating to read. It was wonderful to learn more about the rich history and heritage of good old Shivaji Park, and to see a place I know so well through a completely different lens.
Beautiful read balancing nostalgia and fact effectively - I learned so much about this little patch of sand and art deco I call home, and somehow fell more in love with here.
Often we live through our locales and neighbourhoods with the drudgery of our day-to-day existence without understanding the larger context or the history of the place. Once we know the relevant background, we start to see those same places in a different window and opens up unknown avenues for further exploration.
This is one such book which acts as a wake-up call for the Shivaji Park neighbourhood more precisely which is a part of the Dadar- 400028. The author who is a long-time resident of the area takes us through a fascinating journey, right from origins into the current and future timelines. The book more tending towards a biography- is a combination of many aspects- part history, part memoir, part social commentary, it straddles all the threads very well. Starting with the history of Mahikavati or Mahim where geographically where Shivaji Park and Dadar is located, it covers the origin of the Dadar and then the neighbourhood. It is fascinating to see the different potential explanations of the name for ‘Dadar’. The author also touches on the history and rationale of the early communities who settled in the area. Again it is interesting to know the formation of Shivaji Park as a playground, with the overall area being a planned development after the plague of 1895 in Mumbai and the author covers the playground and the associated structures around it very nicely.
The author provides a great window in the social change for the people i.e., moving from chawls to flats or ‘blocks’ as called by the old timers. Couple of chapters are also dedicated to the key personalities who lived in the locale and it is charming to associate the key individuals with many of the named roads around the area. Finally, the author ends with an ode to the changing nature of the area currently in terms of re-development and shift in the people and again the area is shredding its skin from the earlier avatars.
It is highly recommended for all the people who lived in Dadar and also beyond who wish to take a peek into an enthralling neighbourhood, may it’s basic nature never change.