If a first-time visitor arrived in Mumbai, they might wonder whether fate handed the city more lemons and chilies than usual. Strings of nimbu-mirchi dangle from car bumpers and shopfronts before ending up crushed on pavements. While some claim it is a “scientific” way to repel mosquitoes, the ritual is rooted in the old belief of Nazar Battu, meant to ward off the evil eye. Step on one accidentally and you will likely find someone ready with advice on reversing the supposed bad luck. Variations of this belief exist across Greek, Roman, Middle Eastern and South Asian cultures.
Superstition aside, Mumbai’s troubles feel less mystical and more structural. The city’s average living space is among the lowest in India. Nearly half of new property registrations last year were for homes under 650 square feet. Add to that a 43 percent loading factor, among the highest in the country, and residents often pay for “super built-up” areas that include shared amenities rather than usable carpet space. Outdoors, the squeeze continues. Mumbaikars have barely 1.1 square metres of open space per person, far below the World Health Organization’s recommended 9 square metres.
Meanwhile, infrastructure strain is visible in water shortages, traffic congestion, construction fatigue and rising temperatures. Even winter offered little relief this year. Conversations increasingly frame the city’s problems as if someone has “put nazar” on Mumbai.
Urban planners once designed cities like Jaipur, Chandigarh and Dwarka with principles of Vastu Shastra and Shilpa Shastra in mind. Whether one believes in energy flow or not, the ideas of ventilation, sunlight and maintenance remain practical. Broken infrastructure, cluttered spaces and neglected worksites reflect neglect more than destiny.
Perhaps what Mumbai needs is less symbolism and more systemic repair, a civic spring cleaning rather than a giant lemon strung across the skyline.
Source: Mumbai Mirror
