Walking through Dharavi’s narrow lanes, one hears the hum of sewing machines, the clinking of pottery wheels, the smell of leather, and the chatter of children weaving between workshops and homes. For decades, this settlement home to over a million
People has defied stereotypes. Often reduced to the word “slum,” Dharavi is in fact a living, breathing economic powerhouse that exports goods across the globe. Despite its challenges, Dharavi pulses with life, ambition, and creativity. It is a place where survival meets ingenuity, and where every narrow lane tells a story of determination, collaboration, and pride. In a city obsessed with skyscrapers and modernity, Dharavi remains a testament to the human spirit, quietly powering Mumbai’s economy and cultural heartbeat.

 

A tailor works in a narrow lane, a common sight in Dharavi.
( Photo by Disha Saroj)
 

Today, Dharavi stands at a crossroads. The government’s ambitious redevelopment project, spearheaded by the Adani Group, promises modern apartments, cleaner streets, and better sanitation. But for many residents, these promises carry a shadow of fear: fear of losing homes, jobs, and the tightly-knit community that makes Dharavi unique.
For decades Dharavi has been more than just a settlement, it is a thriving hub of small-scale industries, home-based businesses, and centuries-old crafts that supply goods across Mumbai and beyond. Tailors, potters, leather workers, and countless others have built their livelihoods in the maze of narrow lanes, where every corner tells a story of resilience and resourcefulness. Dharavi’s residents are caught in this delicate balance, grappling with the question: Can development and tradition coexist, or will one inevitably overshadow the other?
 

 “Dreams stitched in 8x8 feet-where every thread carries a family’s future.”
( Photo by Disha Saroj)

The Tailor Who Stitches Dreams

In a cramped workshop stacked with colorful fabrics, 45-year-old Shabana threads her sewing machine at lightning speed. She has been a tailor here for over two decades, supplying garments to markets in Mumbai and beyond.

“Redevelopment sounds good,” she admits, “but where will my machine go? If I’m shifted to a high-rise flat, will there be space for my work? Will my customers still find me?” Her hands move steadily, but her voice wavers. For Shabana, the threat is not just displacement it is disappearing livelihood.
 

“Each pot dries under the sun, but the craft itself risks fading in shadow.”
( Photo by Disha Saroj)

The Potter’s Kiln Under Threat     

In Kumbharwada, Dharavi’s iconic potters’ colony, smoke rises from kilns that have been burning for generations. Sixty-year-old Malti Yadav points to rows of clay pots drying in the sun.

“Our identity is here, in this mitti,” she says, patting the earth. “If they move us to towers, where will we keep our kilns? Can they put fire in a balcony?” Her laugh is light, but the unease in her eyes lingers. For potters, redevelopment does not just mean relocation it could end centuries-old crafts.

The Young Entrepreneur Betting on Change

Not all voices echo fear. Twenty-four-year-old Asif runs a small leather goods start-up with online sales. He sees opportunity in redevelopment.

“If they give us proper internet, proper workspaces, and legal recognition, Dharavi can become like Shenzhen,” he says confidently. For Asif and other young entrepreneurs, redevelopment could open doors to investors, markets, and dignity long denied to their community.

The Family Torn Between Hope and Fear

“For People, hope smells like clean water and wider windows.” 
( Photo by Disha Saroj)

Thirty-year-old Meena and her husband juggle household chores and production deadlines for their small textile unit. While wary of losing their tightly-knit community, they hope for better sanitation, bigger rooms, and safer streets for their children.

“In towers, will anyone knock on our door with food when we are sick? Will anyone share our sewing machine oil when we run out?” Meena wonders. Their story reflects a balance of hope and fear: better facilities versus loss of social fabric.

Promises and Doubts

Officials from the Dharavi Redevelopment Project Authority insist the plan will uplift lives: 300–500 sq. ft. apartments, wider roads, commercial spaces for industries, and improved safety and sanitation.

But activists argue that past redevelopment in Mumbai has often broken communities. “In Dharavi, past projects displaced informal workers, disrupted livelihoods, and ignored local culture,” says NGO worker Anjali Mehta. “A good redevelopment plan must integrate housing, workspace, and community life not replace it.”

This Story Matters Now
Demolitions and relocations have already begun in certain pockets. Once the bulldozers move in, the lanes of Dharavi may never return. Capturing this moment of uncertainty, anxiety, and fragile hope is crucial before history is rewritten in concrete and glass.

Beyond the Bulldozers: A Question of Identity

Dharavi’s story is not just about buildings. It’s about whether a city can modernize without erasing its soul. Can Mumbai embrace skyscrapers while preserving kilns, sewing machines, and the rhythms of community life? Or will redevelopment flatten not just homes, but histories?
As Dharavi waits, between promise and peril, one question lingers: Will the spirit of this vibrant settlement survive and what will that mean for Mumbai’s soul?