Chitvan Gill’s book is a compelling chronicle of an unauthorized settlement near the Yamuna banks, its people, and their decades-long overlooked struggle to lead dignified lives
“The human imagination is obsessed with the idea of leaving. A curious, perverse and primal tic dictates the nature of life, and within this continuum lies its eternal tragedy… At the end, we can only speak of our wanderings, of our search, of the exodus, or the solitary quest,” writes Chitvan Gill, a writer, independent filmmaker and documentary photographer, in Dreaming a Paradise: Migrations and the Story of Buland Masjid (Seagull Books). Her book is a compelling chronicle of Buland Masjid, an unauthorised settlement near the banks of the Yamuna in East Delhi, and those who made it a reality as well those who contribute to its continued existence.
As Gill puts quite succinctly: “Buland Masjid is the story of migrations into hell, and they end in a struggle to create a paradise.” Gill has conducted extensive research, spent considerable time in the colony, and engaged with its diverse populace to render an emphatic account of people struggling to carve out a place for themselves in the metropolis. Whilst it is an anthropological book, it does not treat its subjects as curiosities to be prodded or objects to be dispassionately examined under a microscope. Gill exhibits humane compassion when talking about Buland Masjid and does not always speak on behalf of its inhabitants. She does not treat actual lived realities as just stories or sound bites.
That being said, at times it can feel like she is essentializing and looking down as her compassion shifts a little into the territory of sympathy — or even pity. The book is also peppered with references and quotes from the Western canon which create slight disjuncts in flow. Used as chapter epigraphs and section breaks within chapters, most are also not attributed within the text and proper citations only come at the end. One can see how many of them are helpful in setting the scene, providing context, and making global linkages — Charles Dickens is a great example since his work is largely socio-realist in nature — but a few appear counterintuitive, like the frequent quotes from Charles Baudelaire which have an orientalising effect.
The people who built Buland Masjid
Dreaming a Paradise shines best when Gill retreats as the narrator and the authorial voice gives space to the actual community. It is the people it features that sets it apart and one does wish there were more of those. She particularly focuses on the architects of Buland Masjid, the people who established the colony and fought for essential services as well as government amenities. One of them is Maqsood, “a man who spat in the face of destiny, walked from the abyss to arrive at this place, where he began his own story of creation.”
No stranger to violence since he was a child, the physical kind was not hurtful compared to verbal assaults, especially those that centred on his Muslim identity and sought to dehumanise him. He terms the colony “the labour of my life”, driven by a desire to enable people to lead dignified lives. In spite of being wholly illiterate, he is popularly known as Allama Maqsood, ‘Allama’ being a title reserved for a learned scholar of extraordinary erudition.
Another instrumental figure in the history of Buland Masjid is Haji Aneesud Din: “If Maqsood was the man who fought against the world to achieve what was rightfully his, Haji negotiated the world on its own terms and came to an extraordinary accommodation within it.” Hailing from Amethi, the Haji belonged to an influential family of means but their lives drastically changed after the death of his father and the head of the household when he was just a child.
Forced to grow up much before his time in order to support his family, he set out to the metropolis. He recounts: “I had, as I said, nothing as such to recommend me, no real skills, but what I have was my honesty.” He willingly worked with political representatives, building connections and networks over time to leverage it for the holistic development of the colony and increase general access to utilities and quality of life.
Signs of Life Amid the Squalor: A meat shop at Buland Masjid. Photo: Chitvan Gill
Both men have a chapter each dedicated to them in the book but Gill also features the women who had important roles too. She writes: “The men, all of those I met and spoke to at length, seemed to defer to women, look at them, nod towards them. They were not passive spectators, they were the strength, the determination, and crucially, they were partners.” One can see it in the way Maqsood proudly presents his wife: “If she had not come into my life, it would have been different. I would not be the man they tell you I am… The struggle for Buland Masjid, to make this home our little paradise. None of it would have been possible without her.”
From Krishna Devi, a woman who built a small temple to Vaishno Devi once she achieved stability in life, to Nafisa, who runs a successful women’s parlour in a one-room set-up. From Shabana who supports herself and her daughter through a tikka stall to Naseeba, who had to give up on her education but is an eternal optimist with a positive outlook. These are just some of the many extraordinary women who populate these pages.
Their own patch of paradise
Buland Masjid is just one of many—a total of 1797 is cited—‘unauthorised’ colonies in Delhi and reflects a massive failure of planning and management on all levels of government. Gill, known for her extensive body of work on urbanisation and urban culture, minces no words when it comes to criticising the Delhi Development Authority for their lack of foresight as the premier body in charge. The lack of public housing is one of the main reasons that settlements like these come to be and they are often plagued by grim living conditions in terms of urban planning and sanitation works. “Far from a coherent approach to address this crisis, the DDA explicitly chooses to transform Delhi into a city of slums… Not a single slum — upgraded or otherwise — is fit for human habitation, and certainly not within the much vaunted ‘world-class city’ which Delhi aspires to be.”
Moreover, the people just become election talking points and subjects of vote bank politics. Time and again, the book draws attention to the less-than-ideal environment of Buland Masjid. Its residents echo the assessment, their helplessness and resilience intertwined. Gill particularly recalls the quiet dignity with which Maqsood’s wife encapsulates it: “There is nothing extraordinary in what we did. We had to survive… No one chooses to live in filth. Even a bird will build its nest, a home for its family, and try to make it beautiful.”
The residents of Buland Masjid are neither completely dejected nor have they made peace with their current condition. They are always struggling against state machinery and public perception in order to create their own patch of paradise. They also understand the importance of education, its gifts of socio-economic and cultural mobility, which is why they are determined to ensure a much better future for their children. These are changing times. CAA-NRC, the coronavirus pandemic, the 2020 riots — all have slowly unravelled the plurality of a city like Delhi. Still, as can be made from the many colour photographs that accompany Gill’s text, Buland Masjid and its people hold out, filled with hope and determination.
