Residents Terrified as Mumbai's 'Gateway' Comes Under Siege
As plans emerge for a jetty to be constructed in the zone at Colaba, the indelible image of - etched in the memories of millions - risks being irrevocably altered, perhaps even lost forever, writes Gajanan Khergamker
But it was Parinda (1989) that transformed the Gateway into something else entirely—a foreboding emblem of fate, an unflinching observer of crime and destiny entwined. With its realistic portrayal of Mumbai’s underbelly, the film turned the familiar landmark into a silent witness to violence, shifting its meaning in public imagination.
The scene, with its poetic melancholy, transformed the Gateway into an emblem of intimate, fleeting moments—lovers lost in time, dreams woven between rain-laden gusts, the city’s soul mirrored in its glistening stone.
The landmark looms like a silent audience, watching yet another dreamer stake his claim to its streets.
Few landmarks in India have held as firm a grip on the nation’s collective consciousness as the Gateway of India. It is more than an architectural marvel—it is a silent sentinel of Mumbai’s history, a witness to its triumphs and tragedies, and, above all, an emblem of the city’s cinematic grandeur.
Its basalt arches have framed moments of love, loss, drama, and action across decades of Hindi cinema.Yet today, as plans emerge for a jetty to be constructed at its very foundation, this indelible image—etched in the memories of millions—risks being irrevocably altered, perhaps even lost forever.
The Gateway’s Role in Celluloid Dreams
The Gateway of India has not merely existed in the background of films; it has been a character in its own right, its stately presence lending weight to the stories unfolding before it. In the noir-styled Gateway of India (1957), the monument was not just a location but a motif—an omnipresent guardian over the film’s protagonist as she navigated perilous circumstances. Later, in Chhoti Si Baat (1976), the monument provided a charming setting for love-struck dreamers, while Don (1978) used it as an imposing backdrop.
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| A scene from 'Bombay' |
Then came Bombay (1995), where the Gateway of India became a visual metaphor for nostalgia and longing, its sturdy form juxtaposed against the fragile harmony of a family torn apart by communal riots.
In Ghajini (2008), it was the site of romance and tragedy, its grand archway standing as a mute spectator to fleeting happiness and inevitable sorrow. Perhaps the most memorable depiction of the Gateway in a softer, romantic light comes from Manzil (1979), where Amitabh Bachchan and Moushumi Chatterjee’s rain-drenched stroll by the monument, set to the haunting melody of Rimjhim Gire Sawan, immortalised the monsoons of Mumbai on screen.
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| A scene from 'Don' |
And then there’s the exuberant E Hai Bambai Nagariya from Don (1978), where Amitabh Bachchan, playing a street performer, sings and dances with a small boy while chewing on paan.
The song captures the essence of Mumbai—its chaos, its energy, its dreams. As Bachchan playfully moves through the bustling zone of the Gateway of India, his character embodies the city's relentless spirit and unpredictable nature.
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| A scene from 'Manzil' |
The scene immortalises the Gateway as the pulsating heart of the city—a space where the hopeful, the lost, and the ambitious all converge.
In each of these films, the Gateway was more than an inanimate structure—it was a space where the ordinary met the extraordinary, where everyday life coalesced with the reel world’s heightened emotions. It was the doorway to possibilities, both real and imagined.
A Bridge to Memory, a Portal to the Past
Beyond the dazzling spectacle of cinema, the Gateway of India holds an even deeper, almost sacred resonance in the hearts of those who have traced its promenade, inhaled the briny air as it mingles with the aroma of roasting peanuts, or lost themselves in the rhythmic lapping of waves against the harbour’s edge.
It is a stage where history and nostalgia entwine, where generations have left their footprints, and where stories have unfolded beneath its towering arches.
For decades, families have flocked to its steps, grandparents recounting tales of a bygone Bombay as children chase after pigeons, their laughter rising with the tide. Young couples steal moments of tenderness, their whispered confessions dissolving into the salty breeze, as the city hums in the background—a ceaseless, living entity.
Street vendors peddle their wares, from postcards to steaming cups of chai, their presence as timeless as the monument itself. And as the sun sets, painting the sky in hues of molten gold, the Gateway transforms into a shimmering silhouette, its reflection flickering in the restless waters below.
For Mumbai’s old residents, the Gateway is not just an iconic landmark—it is woven into the fabric of their personal histories, as familiar and irreplaceable as the corridors of their childhood homes. It is where friendships were forged, where decisions were made with the sea as a silent confidant, where solitude found solace in the expanse of the horizon.
And for those who have migrated to distant shores, the Gateway remains more than a relic of the past—it is a beacon of memory, a symbol of home that transcends geography.
Speak to a Mumbaikar living overseas, and you will find that the mere mention of the Gateway conjures more than a wistful recollection—it awakens an entire world. Warm, humid nights aglow with streetlights, the gentle chime of ferry bells as boats bob in anticipation of their voyage to Elephanta, the distant murmur of tourists marveling at its grandeur. It is a connection that time cannot sever, a bridge between what was, what is, and what will always be—Mumbai, in all its unyielding spirit.
The Looming Threat of Erasure
Now, with the proposal of a jetty at the very foundation of the Gateway of India, the essence of this beloved landmark stands at the precipice of an existential crisis. It is not merely a question of altering the physical landscape, of adding yet another layer of concrete and steel to the city’s ever-expanding infrastructure—it is about the potential erasure of a shared legacy, a living memory that generations have cherished.
For nearly a century, the Gateway has stood as Mumbai’s silent sentinel, its arches framing an unbroken horizon where the sea meets the sky, where history meets the present, and where millions have found solace in its quiet majesty.
Now, that horizon faces the prospect of being obscured, its timeless silhouette marred by the imposition of modern utility. What will become of the Gateway when the open vista, immortalised in countless films, paintings, and personal recollections, is replaced by the hulking presence of a contemporary construct?
It is not merely about aesthetics—it is about identity. The Gateway of India is more than an architectural marvel; it is a metaphor for the city itself: grand, resilient, and deeply rooted in the past even as it embraces the future. It is where history whispered its most defining moments—the arrival of British royalty, the departure of colonial rule, the silent mourning of terror-stricken nights. It is where tourists stand in awe, where lovers find stolen moments of peace, where generations of Mumbai’s residents return time and again, seeking something familiar amidst the city's ever-changing skyline.
If the proposed jetty comes to pass, the Gateway risks becoming just another functional space—another transport hub, another point of departure, another loss to pragmatism. But at what cost? Cities evolve, skylines shift, and progress is inevitable.
Yet, if we strip away the symbols that anchor us to our collective past, do we not risk losing a part of our own story? The Gateway’s grandeur is not just in its structure but in the emotions it evokes, the memories it safeguards, and the cultural wealth it represents.
If we allow function to supersede sentiment, history to be overshadowed by convenience, then we may find ourselves standing at the water’s edge, searching for a view that no longer exists, mourning a piece of Mumbai that once was and will never be again.
An Eternal Reel in the Mind’s Eye
If cinema has taught us anything, it is that some images remain immortal, defying the passage of time even as the world around them transforms beyond recognition.
The Gateway of India is one such image—etched into the collective consciousness not merely as a historical landmark but as an enduring symbol of nostalgia, a silent keeper of unspoken stories that stretch across decades, across generations, across continents.
Through the flickering reels of Bollywood’s golden age and the sweeping frames of modern cinema, the Gateway has stood as more than just a backdrop—it has been a character in its own right. It has borne witness to tearful goodbyes and joyous reunions, to clandestine meetings and triumphant departures, to the ebb and flow of life in a city that never pauses.
For those who have stood before its grand arches, whether as a wide-eyed child, a wistful lover, or a traveler taking in the city’s splendour for the first time, the Gateway has given something far greater than a view—it has given a feeling, a moment, an indelible memory.
Perhaps, in the years to come, the Gateway will still stand, albeit altered. The forces of urban development may reshape its surroundings, its open embrace narrowed by modernity’s demands, its uninterrupted vista punctuated by steel and glass.
Yet, no matter how much the skyline shifts, what cannot be erased are the echoes of the past—the reel of emotions it has preserved in the mind’s eye of those who have gazed upon it, whether in person or through the silver screen.
But the question remains: In Mumbai’s relentless march towards progress, will it remember to safeguard the echoes of its past? Will the Gateway continue to be a portal to history, a bridge between what was and what is yet to come? Or will it, like so many relics of memory, fade into the margins, existing only in the grainy frames of old films and the wistful sighs of those who once stood beneath its watchful arches, calling it home?
The answer will define not just the fate of the Gateway of India, but the soul of a city that has long thrived on its ability to remember even as it rushes forward.
(The writer is Editor of The Draft, founder of The Public Space Project and spearheads The Right To Walk campaign besides being a Third-Generation resident of Colaba)
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