Haq Se, Govandi: Art As a Form of Resistance

In Mumbai’s Govandi neighborhood, art and design have accomplished what policy discussions and urban planning often cannot. Where outsiders saw only dumping grounds and deprivation, the Govandi Arts Festival, held in 2023, with an upcoming edition in November 2025, revealed arts and design’s true power – not merely to beautify, but to redefine possibility. A simple public mural reading “Haq Se, Govandi” (Govandi, My Pride) sparked a transformation in Govandi that rippled through streets and generations alike. By Aishwarya Kulkarni

The Govandi Arts Festival, based in one of Mumbai’s most underserved neighbourhoods, is redefining the relationship between art, identity, and community. Co-founded by Natasha Sharma (Curator) and Parveen Shaikh (Community organiser)— both members of the Community Design Agency (CDA) and Bhawna Jaimini  (former curator and member of CDA) — the initiative uses the power of creative expression to challenge stereotypes and reclaim dignity in a place that is often overlooked.

The Festival is more than an event—it is a movement rooted in the belief that everyone deserves access to art, not just as an audience, but as creators. Through a range of performances, exhibitions, and workshops, the platform has allowed young voices from Govandi to emerge with confidence, pride, and purpose. For a community historically denied opportunities for self-expression and celebration, this marks a significant cultural shift.

One of the most heartening outcomes of the Festival has been the change in perception among families. Parents who once prioritised conventional careers for their children are now among the most enthusiastic supporters, attending events and celebrating their children’s artistic achievements with pride. These stories reflect a deeper transformation—where art becomes not only a tool for self-expression but a catalyst for changing aspirations and expectations.

The Festival also highlights the role of art and design in creating both physical and psychological space. In Govandi, where space for celebration is limited, the arts have carved out new possibilities—moments of joy, pride, and imagination that challenge the status quo. The work being done through the Govandi Arts Festival shows that the impact of creativity runs deeper than aesthetics. It touches lives, shapes identities, and empowers communities to see themselves differently.

At its core, the Govandi Arts Festival stands as a powerful reminder that the arts are not a luxury, but a necessity—especially in places where the everyday struggle for survival often eclipses the possibility of celebration. Through its community-first approach, the Festival is not just producing art; it is rewriting narratives, restoring dignity, and expanding the horizon of what is possible.

Aishwarya Kulkarni sits down for a deep and insightful conversation with Natasha Sharma and Parveen Shaikh.

SCALE: How did the Govandi Arts Festival begin, and what was the initial idea behind it?

Natasha: This all traces back to 2019—not to the festival itself, but to the idea of using art as a way to bring the community together and introduce small-scale infrastructural changes within Natwar Parekh Colony. Govandi, and Natwar Parekh Colony is a resettlement and rehabilitation neighborhood in Mumbai. Community Design Agency met Parveen from Govandi in 2017, with a focus on figuring out what could be done collaboratively within the neighborhood. Art became a medium to bring people together, and we began by activating a public space through a mural that read “Haq Se Govandi,” which means “Govandi, My Pride.” This mural became a space for people to gather, and showcase their talent, and they wanted to talk about their neighborhood through their art.

I remember discussing rights—what is your right? And we talked about how safety is a right. That conversation led to someone saying, “Mera haq meri pehchaan hai” (My right is my identity). Around this time, Moin Khan, a local rapper, wrote the song “Haq Se Govandi.” He asked, “Why does everyone only talk about crime and garbage when they mention neighbourhood? There are good things here too—how do we highlight those?”. That’s when the idea of art as a medium of expression on a larger scale was born.

Pareveen: If you ask people about Govandi, they immediately associate it with crime, drug abuse, and pollution. There’s a negative perception because of the dumping grounds, factories, and climate issues. But once we started working, we realized that every place has problems. If we only focus on the negatives, we’ll never make progress. Instead, we decided to start small. We changed our mindset, took ownership of our surroundings, and worked on small improvements.

SCALE: How did you choose art as a tool of advocacy, and what made you believe that art was the right medium to drive the change you envisioned?

Natasha: When we started speaking with the community, most feedback we received was through art. For instance, if we created a mural, rap, dance, and photography organically emerged alongside it. When we worked on street design, a celebratory atmosphere naturally took shape. That’s when we realized that most of the time, our focus is solely on the problem—on the crisis at hand. We rarely have the time or space to celebrate. And here, I don’t just mean physical space, but also emotional and psychological space.

As an arts practitioner who has worked in different spaces, I have come to understand that art has a unique ability—it can bring different perspectives together and make invisible issues more visible. Intangible problems, that don’t have a clear form, can be made evident through artistic expressions. When we recognized these hidden talents among youth and children, we designed a mentorship program. We decided that it shouldn’t be about simply showcasing what the children already knew, but rather about providing them with training and guidance. The idea wasn’t to teach them conventionally but to support their vision, and to add value to their perspective. We wanted to give them the tools—whether a phone or a camera—so they could tell their own stories.

This eventually led to the Artist Residency Program, where artists could collaborate across different skill sets. And it wasn’t limited to working with just the youth—one could work with carpenters, with women engaged in textile work, or even with community members involved in traditional crafts. It was a completely open-ended, collaborative process. In this way, I truly believe that something as intangible as art has been used as a powerful tool for advocacy. Something that policymakers, government agencies, and international organizations struggle to achieve through formal discussions.

SCALE: How did the festival preserve Govandi’s cultural identity while integrating contemporary and global art practices, ensuring that collaborations enriched the community rather than imposing something entirely new?

Natasha: We interacted with many mentors and carefully selected them for the programs, and one of our key requirements was their ability to unlearn. We wanted mentors who were willing to let go of their own artistic or architectural identity—just as we had—so they could truly engage with the community. The six-month mentorship programme required us to attend the first two months of sessions to observe participation levels and engagement. Initially, we had funding for 20 mentees, but 40 showed up. We assumed some would drop out, as there were no school-like obligations, but surprisingly, all 40 stayed for the full six months! This unexpected commitment made us realize that we had underestimated the eagerness of the participants.

Our modules emphasised not being medium-driven but instead making them fall in love with storytelling. For example, when Sana received her first storytelling assignment, she shared a deeply personal account of how her mother had placed her in an orphanage in Mahabaleshwar at age 11 due to financial struggles. It was the first time she had ever shared this story, and when we read it, we were all moved to tears.

This highlighted a crucial lesson – creating emotional safety within artistic spaces is essential. Without it, mentorship cannot succeed. Marginalised communities often face social neglect, which is itself a form of trauma. The process of storytelling allowed them to unravel these emotions and turn them into powerful narratives. Sana’s personal story eventually became a film titled ‘Those Three Months’, which travelled to film festivals in Kerala, Delhi, and New York. She spoke on panels at institutions like the Tata Institute of Social Sciences and the Kerala Film Festival.

Pareveen: Art has the power to breathe life into lifeless things. We had always thought of education in a conventional sense, believing that children should simply go to school and college to learn. But through the festival, we realised how essential it was for their artistic talents to be nurtured.

For the longest time, whenever an organisation came to Govandi, they would introduce skill-based classes like driving, plumbing, or wiring. And when it came to girls, the only suggestion was tailoring. It was as if our boys were destined to become drivers and our girls tailors—never filmmakers, rappers, or public artists. But today, our children are proving otherwise. If they can create films, participate in public art, and display remarkable creativity, why shouldn’t they dream bigger? Before, when professional artists came and painted murals, we would admire them but feel no connection. But now, when the children pass by, they proudly point to the colours they painted, the designs they contributed. This is what made the transformation so powerful.

I still remember standing there, looking around, my head spinning as my parents kept approaching me. “My child knows this!” “My child can do that!” They were eager to enroll their children, realizing that there was finally an opportunity for them.

Natasha: Initially, we were just observing what was emerging organically and guiding it as needed. Within the rap scene, a group called ‘Code 43’ was formed, focusing on expressing their own experiences and stories from the neighborhood. But this transformation didn’t happen overnight. For the first few months, their rap reflected what they had grown up hearing—filled with profanity and derogatory language, particularly towards women. We had to reshape their writing process, encouraging them to bring dignity and respect into their lyrics. Since they were representing Govandi, it became their responsibility to portray it with authenticity and accountability. This realization shifted their approach, making them reflect on what it meant to be an artist from Govandi and what stories they wanted to tell.

Public art had the highest participation, as many children wanted to experiment with crafts and large-scale visual expressions. They created artworks that depicted scenes from their community while also collaborating to paint the largest mural in the area.

SCALE: How did the festival incorporate international collaboration and artistic interventions to reshape community narratives and provide new platforms?

Natasha: The Lantern Parade was a significant event at the Govandi Arts Festival, supported by the British Council’s Together Season of Culture and operationally managed by the Curry Store Foundation. As part of the Together Season of Culture, collaboration with UK artists was essential, leading to the involvement of the Lamplighters CIC from the UK. This marked Govandi Arts Festival’s first international residency, where the UK-based artists traveled to India, stayed for two weeks, and created larger-than-life lanterns with the community.

A lot of effort went into contextualising the lantern parade. Unlike traditional parades, which are often tied to religious celebrations, this parade celebrated Govandi’s identity and the local community. The idea was to shift the narrative of processions—instead of a religious display, this was a creative and cultural expression of the neighborhood.

Beyond this, the festival also hosted a range of workshops and residencies. For example, there was a textile workshop by Button Masala, a renowned fashion designer known for making garments without stitching, using only buttons. This workshop saw 20-30 local women participating, layering vibrant, colorful clothing over their abayas and burqas—a powerful act of self-expression through design.

SCALE: What role does temporary urbanism play in transforming Govandi’s streetscapes? Are there plans to integrate permanent installations?

Natasha: Temporary urbanism – or rather, small-scale artistic interventions – became a way to demonstrate possibilities. Instead of redesigning entire streets at once or constantly presenting grievances to city authorities, we chose to start small. For example, instead of waiting for municipal support, we designed a small park and then approached the BMC (Brihanmumbai Municipal Corporation) to collaborate. The idea behind temporary interventions is their iterative nature—they evolve, inspire, and invite collaboration rather than confrontation.

Art plays a crucial role in this. It does not feel threatening—it is about painting together, creating seating spaces, planting greenery, and lighting streets. By taking ownership, the community demonstrates change in small, resource-conscious ways. In low-income neighborhoods, where resources are limited, even minor urban interventions can create a significant impact and inspire larger possibilities. This approach still guides our work today, and even though the Govandi Arts Festival is a temporary event, the processes behind it—mentorships, residencies, and skill-building—are long-lasting. What remains permanent is not the festival itself but the people, leadership, and strengthened communities it fosters.

After the festival, Parveen and I worked hard to ensure that the arts did not remain a one-time activity. This led to the Ek Aasman Taley (Under One Sky) Program, which established three permanent community spaces and brought support for programming for them: Kitaab Mahal, HumRaahi, and Awaaz.  Previously, these spaces were abandoned structures with poor construction. Today, they serve as community centers for arts and learning, active year-round. By 2024, they became fully operational, with local girls managing the spaces. Now, if someone wants to conduct a workshop or visit, these spaces are open and functional. We designed them thoughtfully because we believe beauty is a form of resistance—every community deserves well-designed, aesthetically inspiring spaces.

Another key initiative is Greening Community Commons (GCC). This programme employs 10 local women full-time. They work closely with Parveen, ensuring cleanliness and maintenance across streets. Currently, our team includes 17 women – 8 facilitators from the community and 10 women maintaining streets and public spaces

SCALE: What elements will the 2025 festival have? What will it address?

Natasha: One major milestone from 2023 was the first reclaimed open ground, previously an abandoned parking lot, taken over and transformed by the Govandi Arts Festival. Today, it’s an open public space—only a few bikes pass through, and even cars no longer enter. This represents a real improvement in public infrastructure. Now, even exhibitions will be held in the lanes, proving that art is no longer restricted to isolated spaces.  Earlier, people would say, “Art is there, but this street is still full of garbage.” Now, our vision is to transform those very lanes—to reclaim them as well.

This year, we want creativity to drive the festival through year-round activities. We now have three permanent spaces dedicated to arts, learning, and well-being, alongside micro-demonstrations of parks reclaiming once garbage-filled lanes. As I curate the second edition, the focus is to not just use these spaces for the showcase but to emphasise that community work cannot exist in isolation. A festival alone cannot drive change, but when paired with lasting interventions, it fosters sustained neighbourhood transformation.

This edition will bring conversations around gender, climate, food, and the environment—issues deeply affecting vulnerable communities but often missing their voices. We’ve already begun collaborating with mentors across film, photography, stand-up comedy, theatre, rap, and public art. I’m also co-developing artist residency programmes exploring unique ideas like a cooking channel from Govandi, game design, and more. The groundwork has begun—now, we shape what’s next.

SCALE: Tell me about one special anecdote from the festival that left a deep mark on you—something that truly changed you.

Pareveen: For me, the real festival began six months before the actual event when our mentorship program started. Watching the children immerse themselves in filmmaking, public art, rap, songwriting, and photography was already a moment of success. I kept telling Natasha—even if the festival happens or not, even if life takes its course, for me, this is already a festival because so many children from our community found a safe space to express their creativity.  Boys usually find their way, whether through music, photography, or their circles. But for the girls, this was different. Their dreams are often silenced, and their opportunities are limited. When so many of them joined photography, and especially theatre—something we never even knew existed beyond cinema halls—I knew we had already won.

Natasha: A day before the festival, in the scorching heat, an eight-year-old girl, Radhika, ran across 50 meters just to bring me a glass of water. Most of it spilled while she was running back, but she beamed, “Didi, drink.” That moment, more than any grand gesture, reminded me why we do this—small acts of kindness create the deepest impact. Today, I don’t know where Radhika is. Her friends say she moved away. But her gesture stays with me, a quiet, powerful reminder of connection, care, and the unseen ways art and community transform us—not just as practitioners, but as human beings.

Govandi Arts Festival 2023, was made possible by the British Council’s Together Season of Culture and was curated by Natasha Sharma and Bhawna Jamini. The Procession Curators included Dee Moxon, Amy Peck, Stephanie Reeves and Maya Wolf. Mentorship included mentors like Pankaj Rishi Kumar (Filmmaking), Tejinder Singh (Photography), Niharika Lyra Dutt (Theatre), DRJ Sohail, Danish, Tash (Rap and Music), and Sankar Sawant (Public Art). The selected artist residents were Jerry Antony, Nisha Nair Gupta, and Meera Goradia. Organised by Community Design Agency (India), Streets Reimagined (UK), Lamplighters CIC (UK).