Banganga Tank and Walkeshwar Precinct

Tucked into the western flank of Malabar Hill, a few minutes below the traffic of Walkeshwar Road, Banganga is the oldest continuously used ritual pocket on Mumbai's island city.

• The tank is a long rectangle of still green water sunk well below street level, its worn stone steps dropping on all four sides towards a pool fed by an underground freshwater spring — remarkable in a spot barely a few hundred metres from the Arabian Sea.
• Around the rim stand small shrines, maths (monastic houses), old dharamshalas, the samadhis of Gaud Saraswat teachers, and a pair of tall stone deepstambhas, the lamp pillars that mark the approach.
• Pigeons, ducks and washing lines share the steps with pilgrims; the city's noise simply stops at the top of the lane.
• The precinct's origins are traditionally traced to the twelfth century, with the tank dated to about 1127 CE and attributed to a minister at the court of the Silhara rulers who then held these islands.
• The name comes from a Ramayana legend: Rama, searching for Sita, is said to have paused here, and when he asked for water Lakshmana loosed an arrow — baan — into the ground, drawing up a tributary of the Ganga.
• The adjoining Walkeshwar Temple takes its name from valuka ishwar, 'lord of sand', after the sand lingam Rama is said to have fashioned.
• The temple was destroyed in the sixteenth century and rebuilt in the early eighteenth by a local merchant-philanthropist, so most of what stands today is later work layered over a very old sacred site.
• Conservation and desilting projects have run here in recent years, and parts of the precinct may be fenced or under repair.
• Banganga rewards slowness rather than ticking off.
• Come early, walk the full circuit of the steps, and look at the doorways of the maths and the carved stone tulsi vrindavans rather than only the water.
• This is an active devotional space — families perform ancestral rites and immerse ashes here — so photograph discreetly, never point a camera at mourners, do not enter or wash in the water, and remove footwear where signs ask.
• A classical music festival has been associated with the precinct in the cooler months, though it does not run every year; ask locally before planning around it.
• The lanes are narrow, the steps steep and uneven, and there is no ramp access, so the site suits sure-footed walkers rather than strollers or wheelchairs.
• Most visitors pair it with the gardens at the top of Malabar Hill or a walk down to the seafront.
• There is no food inside the precinct, and eating on the steps is inappropriate.
• Walkeshwar and Malabar Hill are quiet residential neighbourhoods with a strong Gujarati, Marwari and Gaud Saraswat presence, so simple pure-vegetarian kitchens and snack counters are not hard to find — but Mumbai is a major seafood city and plenty of menus in the surrounding lanes are mixed, so look for a clearly displayed pure-veg board and confirm before you order rather than assuming.
• Downhill towards Girgaum Chowpatty, roughly two to three kilometres away, the chaat carts turn out bhel puri, sev puri, ragda pattice, pav bhaji and kulfi; these are vegetarian by tradition, though a quick check at the stall is still worth it.
• Around Charni Road and Girgaum you will also find Udupi-style cafés doing idli, medu vada, filter coffee and paper dosa, and Gujarati thali kitchens serving unlimited rotli-shaak lunches.
• Jain travellers should say no-onion-no-garlic clearly when ordering, and everyone should carry water — the climb back up to Walkeshwar Road is steeper than it looks.