In colonial-era Mumbai, time wasn’t just measured by the ticking hands of a clock. It was wielded as a tool of control and defiance. When the British sought to impose standardisation on India’s clocks, they encountered resistance that ran deeper than schedules and timetables. In Mumbai, the battle for time was about more than synchronising watches — it was about identity, autonomy, and resisting imperialism.

At the heart of this struggle was Bombay Time, a local solar time that reflected the rhythms of a city thriving on trade, culture, and community. For decades, Mumbai ran on two — and sometimes three — different clocks. While British officials championed Madras Time and later Indian Standard Time (IST) for efficiency, Mumbai's residents clung fiercely to their own, arguing it was a better fit for their lives. This seemingly technical debate over minutes and meridians became a deeply political act, a stand against the homogenising ambitions of the colonial state.

When the Rajabai Clock Tower was completed in 1878, it was a symbol of Mumbai’s emerging status as a cosmopolitan hub. Inspired by London’s Big Ben, the tower’s Gothic architecture loomed over the university campus, symbolising both colonial grandeur and local pride. But its clock faces soon became the subject of intense debate: what time should it keep?

Bombay Time, based on the city’s solar rhythm, had been the standard for decades. But with the rise of the railways and telegraph networks, the British pushed for Madras Time, a unified system meant to streamline trade and communication. This imposition rankled locals. As one university senator argued in an 1883 debate, “The clock belongs to Bombay; it should follow Bombay Time.” A high-ranking official countered that adopting standard time would bring the city “in line with modern scientific progress.” Ultimately, Bombay Time prevailed in a 34-to-7 vote, funded by municipal authorities determined to preserve the city’s temporal sovereignty.

The stakes of this battle were felt most keenly in Mumbai’s cotton mills, where the fight over time became a fight over labour discipline. The mills, employing tens of thousands of workers, operated on gruelling schedules dictated by the demands of global markets. Yet, as historian Hatice Yildiz notes, mill owners often resisted standardisation, favouring irregular hours that allowed them to exploit workers while evading oversight.

For the mill workers, many of whom were migrants from rural areas, this temporal ambiguity was a form of control. “The clock was both a tool of discipline and a symbol of resistance,” writes Yildiz. Protests erupted, with workers demanding clarity and fairness. They wanted fixed hours aligned with Bombay Time, a schedule that better fit their lives and rituals. This demand for temporal autonomy dovetailed with broader nationalist movements, making timekeeping a symbol of resistance against colonial exploitation.

As debates over timekeeping spilled into municipal halls and public spaces, the city became a battleground for competing temporalities. The British justified their push for a unified standard by pointing to efficiency, but for many in Mumbai, this was an unwelcome intrusion into daily life. Religious leaders argued that standard time disrupted ceremonies tied to solar cycles. Merchants complained about its impact on trade, while workers bemoaned the new schedules that forced them to start their day before sunrise.

In 1905, Viceroy Lord Curzon reignited the debate by attempting to enforce Indian Standard Time. Petitions flooded city offices, with merchants, labourers, and religious leaders uniting in opposition. In one memorable meeting, a Parsi leader declared that abandoning Bombay Time would be “a surrender of our heritage to the colonial clock.” Despite widespread protests, the government imposed IST on January 1, 1906. Yet, many locals continued to operate on dual systems, adjusting schedules to accommodate both official and local time.

The enduring resistance to IST wasn’t just a quirk of local pride — it was deeply political. As historian Shekhar Krishnan observes, Mumbai’s defiance of colonial timekeeping was tied to larger struggles for autonomy and identity. The battle over time mirrored the broader resistance to British rule, with Bombay’s diverse communities — Hindu workers, Muslim weavers, and Parsi merchants — finding common cause in their opposition to standardisation.

In 1906, mill workers staged strikes demanding a return to Bombay Time, arguing that the new schedules disrupted their lives and livelihoods. The colonial government faced a dilemma: impose strict discipline or concede to local demands. In many cases, they compromised, allowing factories and offices to unofficially use Bombay Time even as IST remained the official standard.

By the 1940s, the exigencies of World War II and the push for national cohesion had eroded Bombay Time’s hold. After India’s independence in 1947, IST became the norm across the country. Yet, the memory of Bombay Time lingered. Parsi fire temples continued to use it for religious rituals, and into the 1950s, locals joked about “running on Bombay Time” to justify being late.

Today, the story of Bombay Time is a reminder of how even the most mundane aspects of life — like setting a clock — can become acts of resistance. It’s a testament to the city’s spirit, a refusal to let imperial powers dictate the rhythms of its daily life. As the Rajabai Clock Tower stands tall over the city, its hands ticking in synchrony with IST, you can almost hear the echoes of a time when Bombay defied Empire using the power of a humble clock.

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