The Coolies of Crawford Market: Where Strength Meets Dignity
Step into Mumbai’s Crawford Market, and you’ll see them — men with sun-worn faces and calloused palms, moving with a rhythm that belongs to the city itself.
They carry the weight of commerce and the spirit of Mumbai — balancing bamboo tokris high in one hand, weaving gracefully through the crowd like dancers in a marketplace symphony.
They are the coolies — the unseen heartbeat of this century-old bazaar.
The Pulse of a Living Market
Since 1869, Crawford Market — officially Mahatma Jyotiba Phule Mandai — has thrived as a sensory storm of sound, scent, and colour.
Fruits gleam, flowers spill fragrance, spices breathe warmth — and behind it all, these men move quietly, connecting buyers, sellers, and goods in an endless loop of labour and life.
Where trolleys jam and vehicles halt, the coolies take over.
They shoulder 40 to 80 kilograms at a time, threading through narrow lanes where even footsteps must negotiate space.
Without them, the market’s steady hum would fall into silence.
The Word and the Worth
The word coolie has travelled through languages — from the Hindi kuli and Tamil kuli, meaning “wages” — and through history, once burdened with the weight of colonial servitude.
But at Crawford, the word has been reclaimed with pride.
Here, it no longer speaks of submission, but of endurance, trust, and self-respect.
Each man stands as a reminder: labour, when dignified, becomes legacy.
Life Between Loads
Most coolies begin young — some in their teens — and continue well into their forties.
They earn between ₹200 to ₹500 a day, their income rising during festival rushes and dipping when crowds thin.
There are no contracts or uniforms, just the invisible currency of trust.
Each porter is known by his face, his reliability, his word.
They live in shared rooms nearby, waking before dawn and working until the last shop shuts its shutters.
“Yeh kaam mushkil hai, par izzat deta hai,” says Rahim, 42, from Uttar Pradesh.
“This work is hard, but it gives me respect.”
The Tokri Ballet
Watch them closely and you’ll see a kind of grace in motion.
The coolie carries his tokri — a sturdy bamboo basket — raised high in one hand, balancing it on his palm with uncanny precision.
Inside are the city’s goods: apples, fabrics, crockery, dry fruits, sometimes even fragile glass or flowers.
He moves beside the shopper, shop to shop, waiting patiently outside each stall as purchases pile up.
When the customer browses, he waits — a quiet guardian of the growing bundle.
When the next store beckons, he follows — adjusting the tokri, clearing the way, sometimes offering a friendly nudge:
“Madam, yeh dukaan mein sasta milega.”
(“You’ll get it cheaper in this shop.”)
By the end of the shopping trail, he leads the way to the car or taxi stand, lowering the tokri gently — every load delivered with dignity.
Faces of Resolve
Santosh, 24, from Solapur, came to Mumbai five years ago.
He dreams of sending his sister to college someday.
“Main roz 60–70 kilo uthata hoon. Paisa kam hai, par sheher ne mujhe seekh di,” he says with a quiet smile.
“I lift 60–70 kilos daily. The money isn’t much, but this city has taught me resilience.”
In men like Santosh, Mumbai finds its reflection — humble, tireless, and full of hope.
A Living Heritage
The coolies of Crawford Market are not just workers.
They are the keepers of a living tradition, one that carries the spirit of survival through every crate, every corridor, every dawn.
They remind us that while markets trade in goods, cities thrive on people — on those who lift, carry, and endure with grace.
So, the next time you visit Crawford Market, pause for a moment.
Look for the man with the bamboo tokri raised high.
He may not speak much, but in his silent strength lies the story of Mumbai — its hustle, its heart, and its humanity.
