“Dreaming A Paradise” by Chitvan Gill: A Journey into Delhi’s Buland Masjid Community

Dreaming a Paradise, written by the photographer and documentary filmmaker Chitvan Gill, takes us deep into the heart of Buland Masjid, an unauthorised settlement on the banks of the river Yamuna in Delhi. Through richly detailed text and photographs, Gill shows us a community that, despite being overlooked and walled off from the city’s wealth, thrives with energy and enterprise.

The book unfolds like a guided walk through the narrow lanes of Buland Masjid. Gill’s narrative is interspersed with references from world literature and poetry, adding layers to the stories of the people who call this settlement their home. Each chapter stands on its own, much like the diverse facets of an urban landscape, revealing the complexities of life in Buland Masjid. This is the book’s strength and, I feel, its weakness as well. More on this later.

In “The Migration”, the opening chapter that sets the context, Gill etches a poignant portrait of the struggles and hopes that drive people in different parts of the world to leave their homes in search of a better life. Gill’s exploration of Muslim identity also challenges monolithic perceptions. There is a light-hearted account of how once she visited the colony and heard a staggered series of azaans from the many mosques there. A young boy named Majid explained: “They are all rival factions, each with their own mosque, and they stagger their timings to establish their own identity.”

Gill does not mince words when highlighting the environmental degradation of the Yamuna in the next chapter. She writes: “Today the sacred river is a quiet, slow moving sludge of raw shit and toxic froth, a large sewer cutting through this city of inequity….” Her writing also touches upon aspects of urban planning in an accessible way, enhancing our understanding of how urban and informal spaces are organised and how they influence the lives of residents.

Throughout the book, Gill gives faces and names to people who are often reduced to mere statistics, allowing the reader to connect with the stories of the residents of Buland Masjid at a personal level and reminding us that they are real people with hopes, dreams, and struggles who inhabit these spaces.

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One of the most compelling chapters, and also my favourite, is “The Urban Age”. Gill critically examines how urban policies have failed communities like Buland Masjid. She points out that it is one of 1,797 unauthorised colonies in Delhi, a direct result of policy shortcomings. She writes: “The ghettos of Delhi are nothing but a consequence of a series of active policy errors.” Her critique of the Delhi Master Plan as a “potpourri of ill-conceived projections” talks about the disconnect between official planning and the lived realities of the city’s residents. Before every Assembly election in the capital, we hear the promises of political parties to “regularise” the unauthorised colonies of Delhi, and with elections round the corner again, it is likely that we will hear more of the same. Gill’s analysis offers a timely perspective on the complexities involved.

The chapter titled “And Thee by My Side” talks about the resilience and agency of Buland Masjid’s women, who are active participants in community building. The story of Krishna Devi, a Hindu resident who never felt out of place among her Muslim neighbours (“So many people helped out and eased our travails with their kindness”), challenges stereotypes and highlights the harmonious coexistence that flourishes even in, or especially in, marginalised spaces.

The book also delves into broader themes of displacement and migration. In “Arrival City”, Gill connects the struggles of Buland Masjid’s residents to global issues of refugees and the reluctance of First World nations to accept them. The final chapter touches on the communal violence in Delhi in the wake of the Citizenship (Amendment) Act protests and the mass exodus of migrant workers during the COVID-19 pandemic. These events underscore the persistent vulnerabilities faced by marginalised communities.

Gill’s training as a photographer is evident in her evocative prose and the inclusion of photographs that bring the stories to life. The images are intimate and candid, reflecting the trust she built with the residents. It is evident she did not just observe from a distance but immersed herself in the world of Buland Masjid and built relationships over the years. I am curious to know whether she writes first and then photographs, or the other way round. Both the processes are very different from each other.

Reading Dreaming a Paradise, I was reminded of my own experiences working with displaced communities, particularly in Muzaffarnagar after the riots. The scene in the book where the first iron gate is raised in Buland Masjid resonated with me, reminding me of similar protective measures taken by other vulnerable groups I have worked with, a stark reminder of how such physical barriers are at once symbols of safety and indicators of societal divisions.

While some chapters cover a broad range of topics and occasionally feel disconnected, the overall narrative is a powerful exploration of the quest for a place to call home, which one then fashions into one’s “paradise”. Gill captures the triumphs and tragedies of people who, despite facing immense challenges, inject vitality into the city’s economy through their relentless industry.

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About the chapterisation, the stand-alone chapters are both the book’s strength and its weakness. While they do allow for an in-depth exploration and offer multiple entry points into the complex world of Buland Masjid, the lack of a linear storyline may be a deterrent at least for some readers. I, for one, prefer a continuous narrative flow, but I managed to carry the book around with me on my travels and consumed it in parts. Then again, readers who enjoy delving deeply into specific topics and exploring multiple perspectives will find this approach enriching.

This book is a significant contribution to understanding the complexities of urban informal settlements. It challenges us to observe and reconsider how cities are planned and who they serve. Through this book, Gill highlights the contradictions in a nation grappling with its identity and, of course, the ever-growing divide between the haves and the have-nots. For fellow general readers, urban planners, architects, and photographers, Dreaming a Paradise offers valuable insights into the lived experiences of those often overlooked in urban narratives. It is, in a way, a call to action to address the systemic failures that lead to such inequities and to recognise the resilience and contributions of communities like in Buland Masjid.

In the end, Gill does more than document a single settlement: she reminds us of the enduring human spirit, continually striving to forge paradise in the most unwelcoming landscapes. Her book compels us to look beyond the surface and truly see the people who shape, and are shaped by, the urban environments they inhabit. It is a narrative that stays with you, urging deeper reflection on the societal structures that define who gets to dream of paradise—and who must struggle to create it. 

Nipun Prabhakar is an independent photojournalist, writer, and architectural designer based in Delhi and Bhopal.