Settler Urbanism
This post is an experiment in coining neologisms: Made-up words for half-buried truths + Photographs that prompted this neologisms.
The Settler Urbanist: I think I belong to a tribe called the Settler Urbanists. Newly awakened city people trying to tune into the land or city they live in. Not to rebuild it, not to mourn it, just to listen to a city we migrated to. Let’s call listening to the Subsurface Memory of a city, the idea that land remembers and sometimes reveals. And why do we do it? Maybe to feel less like settlers and more like listeners.
Subsurface Memory and Settler Urbanism
Geographically, Navi Mumbai is on the mainland of India, on the left (eastern) bank of Thane Creek, the southern distributary of the Ulhas River that forks at Thane. Salsette Island and the original seven islands form the right (western) bank of the creek, which contains Mumbai.
I am one among several friends from Navi Mumbai who are slowly trying to divine the city's 'Estuarial Memory'. Estuarial Memory may or may not be the right phrase to use to evoke the idea that memory of the places and people that used to inhabit what became Navi Mumbai pools and shifts like water in an estuary. What we want to see is if the place “remembers” its earlier form.
It's a kind of 'Silt World'. Under the many sectors and nodes that form Navi Mumbai are ecological, sociological, and other sediments (silt) that persist in the city that is poured over with tonnes of concrete and steel. Maybe we are seeking an earlier way of life, like silt, that keeps rising to the surface.
It's an ‘Interstitial Village’ or a way of life that lies between the concrete structures and the jam-packed highways, like connective tissue. The remains of a softer life between the hard grinds that is in better sync with nature.
We seek a 'TideMark': the visible things or lines left behind by the receding way of life. The fading but still visible presence of an older way of life.
Grama Lacuna.
Discovering the ‘Gramalacuna’: Grama (village) + lacuna (gap, absence, or hole). It's a journey filled with A-Ha! moments to stumble upon these layers that once made a place, and it is probably something missing in the modern city, but not entirely gone. If the planners with the stiff, straightening tools who planned this city had to give this a name, it would be something like 'Wetgrid Residue ', which combines the wetness of the estuarine ecology and the 'grid' of rationality, and residue that would mean what's leftover and escaped their pen or knife.
I wish that I could have coined names using Marathi or Agri toponymic logic. The original local dialect of Marathi, which people who had a close communion with the land used to name a place, was ‘Devkhadi’, or the sacred creek, or ‘Khekravli’, or the wetland or lowland filled with crabs.
Echoflow.
We want to seek out and see what exists or hides in plain sight. A 'Flow Print' of ways of life that could not be buried under blueprints, development plans, and the towers that rise from them. Let me also be honest: we are city dwellers, totally reliant on the march of concrete. We seek to steal ideas from the 'Under Flow,’ the quiet current beneath the surface. To distil the authentic, unfiltered movement of the 'True Flow' before city structures shaped it.
Anthropocenic Greed of Settler Urbanism.
Are we mere thieves of memory? We, the future residents of Navi Mumbai's ‘Lalachwadi’ (settlement of greed), Sector 420, English-speaking ‘memoryvores’ trying to mimic past aesthetics and knowledge for petty gain, not meaning. Will we become the flagbearers of 'Pastwash,' here to reuse the past as a decorative or greenwashed aesthetic?
Will we become 'Siltwashers,' rebranding the place's sedimentary, organic, and ecological realities into clean, palatable myth? Not with bombs or JCBs this time, but with hashtags, development plans, policy tweaks, and curated walks. We become the soft tools of settler urbanism, pouring concrete over living biospheres and the cultures of the first people of the creek.
We do not raze like the IDF, we aestheticise. We do not evict; we euphemise.
Viewfinder Gaze
After indulging, maybe perversely in the pleasure of coining neologisms while my friends and I tried to find new ways of seeing the city we live in, I think it’s time to turn to what started it all: the photographs. Let me turn on my ‘Viewfinder Gaze,’ a narrow, selective gaze of a person who edits reality for aesthetic coherence and tries to erase contradiction - the images that caught me off guard and made me write this.
Here is this week's photo essay.




That’s all, Folks.
Look forward to your blogs.
This is brilliant and evocative.... made up words for half buried truths... with your permission, I would like to share this with my international learning group of Bioregionning.. And waiting for much more...