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Brain Gain 11 - Tech in Context: Reflections from Mumbai

Updated: 3 days ago

How do our technologies shape us and our lives?

That’s a question I really started asking myself during my trip to Mumbai, India, and ever since. It was the farthest I’d ever been from home and my first time in Asia. One of my favorite things to photograph there was the way recognizable technologies appear in unrecognizable surroundings, areas, and locations—or sometimes the other way around.


Next, I’ll highlight three photos from my photo gallery Bom Baim. Alongside them, I invite you to reflect on a critical question: Do standardized technologies shape, help, or add to societies in unique ways (?) Or do they also risk unifying—and perhaps negatively uniforming—our world, making it feel monotonous?


Two corners away from my hostel—which was in an Islamic neighborhood in the slums, with no English speakers, and where I had slept alongside eleven other men in bunk beds—I walked past this butcher shop at 6 am. If you look closely, what might seem bizarre to some are the live goats standing right next to the slaughtered and displayed ones. What chaos—and what to imagine awaits them! Yet, on the tiled wall behind, there’s a QR code for Paytm, allowing people to buy meat digitally with their phones. It's an interesting juxtaposition and provides a glimpse of how India employs technologies.
Two corners away from my hostel—which was in an Islamic neighborhood in the Mumbai slums, with no English speakers, and where I had slept alongside eleven other men in bunk beds—I walked past this butcher shop at 6 am. What might seem bizarre to some are the live goats standing right next to the slaughtered and displayed ones. What chaos—and what to imagine awaits them! Yet, if you look closely, on the tiled wall behind, there’s a QR code for Paytm, allowing people to buy meat digitally with their smartphones. It provides a glimpse of how technology is immersed in India.

A few streets away, I spotted a strikingly modern high-rise—sleek, tall, with flawless finishing. From far, it looked like precision architecture and engineering. Then I noticed the scaffolding: not steel or aluminum, but bamboo. The tall, wiggly stalks wrapped around the building all the way to the top, supporting construction as it was being finished. It was a fascinating contrast: cutting-edge design held up by an ancient, natural material. An inversion of what we usually associate with technology—where bamboo, flexible and organic, replaces the heavy, industrial structures we expect.
A few streets away, I spotted a strikingly modern high-rise—sleek, tall, with flawless finishing. From far, it looked like precision architecture and engineering. Then I noticed the scaffolding: not steel or aluminum, but bamboo. The tall, wiggly stalks wrapped around the building all the way to the top, supporting construction as it was being finished. It was a fascinating contrast: cutting-edge design held up by an ancient, natural material. An inversion of what we usually associate with technology—where bamboo, flexible and organic, replaces the heavy, industrial structures we expect.

How do our technologies shape us and our lives? That’s a question I really started asking myself during my trip to Mumbai, India, and ever since. It was the farthest I’d ever been from home and my first time in Asia. One of my favorite things to photograph there was the way recognizable technologies appear in unrecognizable surroundings, areas, and locations—or sometimes the other way around. I was struck by the level of artisan lifestyle, which says a lot coming from the Caribbean. At the same time, so much also felt familiar. Many places I’ve lived in and traveled to in the Caribbean have Indian populations and influences, so parts of Mumbai resonated with me in unexpected ways. Next, I’ll highlight some of the photos from my gallery Bom Baim. Alongside them, I invite you to reflect on a critical question: Do standardized technologies shape, help, or add to societies in unique ways? Or do they also risk unifying—and perhaps negatively uniforming—our world, making it feel monotonous? Two corners away from my hostel—which was in an Islamic neighborhood in the slums, with no English speakers, and where I had slept alongside eleven other men in bunk beds—I walked past this butcher shop at 6 am. If you look closely, what might seem bizarre to some are the live goats standing right next to the slaughtered and displayed ones. What chaos—and what to imagine awaits them! Yet, on the tiled wall behind, there’s a QR code for Paytm, allowing people to buy meat digitally with their phones. It's a juxtaposition and provides a glimpse of how India employs technologies. A few streets away, I spotted a strikingly modern high-rise—sleek, tall, with flawless finishing. From far, it looked like precision architecture and engineering. Then I noticed the scaffolding: not steel or aluminum, but bamboo. The tall, wiggly stalks wrapped around the building all the way to the top, supporting construction as it was being finished. It was a fascinating contrast: cutting-edge design held up by an ancient, natural material. An inversion of what we usually associate with technology—where bamboo, flexible and organic, replaces the heavy, industrial structures we expect. Just a little further, at the end of a narrow, bustling lane, I came across a small temple. It offered another striking example of how technology is processed in Indian society. On one side, human-driven carts were parked—simple, manual, and labor-intensive. Right beside them, scooters, sleek and motorized. What caught my eye was the unexpected harmony: despite the vast difference in power and speed, the carts and scooters shared a visual language—they were both painted in shades of red and black, creating an almost poetic symmetry amid the disparity. It was a vivid reminder that technology doesn’t just exist in isolation; it interacts with society.
Just a little further, at the end of a narrow lane, I came across a small temple. It offered another example of how technology is processed in Indian society. On one side, human-driven carts were parked—simple, manual, and labor-intensive. Right beside them, scooters, sleek and motorized. What caught my eye was the unexpected harmony: despite the vast difference in power and speed, the carts and scooters shared a visual language—they were both painted in shades of red and black, creating an almost poetic symmetry amid the disparity. It was a vivid reminder that technology doesn’t just exist in isolation; it develops, immerses, interacts, and interweaves with society.

 
 
 

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