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By:

Quaid Najmi

4 January 2025 at 3:26:24 pm

MGL imposes 20 pc gas cut on bakeries

Soon, Mumbai to starve of vada-pav, pav-bhaji Mumbai: The city of dreams fueled by vada-pav and pav-bhaji could soon face a nightmarish food crunch. Amid the ongoing commercial LPG crisis, Mumbai’s piped natural gas (PNG) supplier Mahanagar Gas Limited (MGL) has imposed a 20pc cut in gas offtake by bakeries, forcing scale down of production of laadi-pav, breads and other bakery staples that feed millions daily, plus an ominous price hike soon. The MGL directive follows a central order (March...

MGL imposes 20 pc gas cut on bakeries

Soon, Mumbai to starve of vada-pav, pav-bhaji Mumbai: The city of dreams fueled by vada-pav and pav-bhaji could soon face a nightmarish food crunch. Amid the ongoing commercial LPG crisis, Mumbai’s piped natural gas (PNG) supplier Mahanagar Gas Limited (MGL) has imposed a 20pc cut in gas offtake by bakeries, forcing scale down of production of laadi-pav, breads and other bakery staples that feed millions daily, plus an ominous price hike soon. The MGL directive follows a central order (March 9), calling upon all bakeries to restrict their gas consumption to only 80 pc of their average usage over the past six months. The new rule came into effect from March 12, immediately sending alarm bells ringing across Mumbai’s panicky bakery network. In a missive to bakery owners, MGL also indicated that PNG prices would be revised shortly due to “gas pooling” arrangements, with the final rates to be announced after consultations with suppliers and the government. It further warned that any bakery exceeding the new consumption cap could face penal tariffs or even abrupt disconnection of gas supply. For hundreds of bakeries already grappling with a crippling shortage of commercial LPG cylinders, the move served to fuel the prevailing uncertainty. “This could virtually paralyse Mumbai’s food chain, hitting the common masses worst,” warned Khodadad Irani, President of the Indian Bakers Association (IBA). “There are nearly 300 registered bakeries in South Mumbai alone and around 1,000 across the city. Together they produce almost half the city’s daily requirement of around 70 lakh laadi-pavs. More than half of these bakeries depend on LPG to fire their ovens. With LGP supplies disrupted and now PNG curtailed, many may be forced to shut down within days,” a glum Irani told ‘The Perfect Voice.’ He explained the staggering implications of the potential disruption round the corner - on average, each bakery churns out around 1,500 trays (laadis) of pav every day, employs 30-50 workers per unit, and outside the flaming ovens, an entire informal economy thrives on the humble pav. Two Lakh Workers Nearly two lakh delivery workers ferry fresh bread across the city each morning on bicycles and motorcycles, supplying to all from roadside stalls to high-end eateries and corporates. Besides, over six lakh vendors run small stalls selling the city’s beloved yummies - vada-pav, samosa-pav, bhajiya-pav, usal-misal-pav, pav-bhaji, dabelis. “Under such a scenario, if bakeries pause or shut down, there will be huge consequences. Not only will common people suffer, but close to a million livelihoods linked to this ecosystem could be hit,” Irani pointed out. He reminded the authorities how bakeries remained operational during the COVID-19 pandemic, ensuring a steady supply of bread and pav when Mumbai reeled under lockdown. “We kept our ovens running then despite enormous risks, to ensure Mumbai would not go hungry. But now we are facing a dire fuel shortage, and until commercial LPG quotas are normalized, we simply cannot continue operations,” Irani said grimly. With desperation creeping in both among the bakers and their customers, some bakeries have begun buying LPG cylinders on the black market at three to four times the official price, and others are allegedly diverting domestic cylinders to power their industrial ovens. Ironically, the sector had only recently initiated a painful transition to cleaner fuels - following court-mandated environmental directives in 2025 - by scrapping their traditional coal or wood-fired ovens to invest in PNG-LPG-based systems, or electric powered ovens. “Most of us complied with the shift to eco-friendly fuels. But now those very fuels are scarce. If the situation is not resolved quickly, Mumbai could soon wake up to a shocking reality - a city without pav,” Irani predicted. Neighbourhood bakers fret Local bakers say the crisis threatens not only the supply of laadi-pav but a wide range of popular bakery products that have a ready market. They include: sweet bun-pav, tutti-frutti pav, kharis, rusks, crunchy bruns, toasts, puffs, pastries, brownies, cupcakes, nankhatais, cookies, mini-pizzas, unbranded biscuits, et al. “Mumbai is a crowded city. It cannot survive without bakeries running 24x7. Many people eat only one proper meal at home and rely on street foods and snacks outside. Everything depends on steady fuel supply. If bakeries stop, the entire food chain - from corporate canteens to school kitchens and mass caterers - will be doomed,” fumed a contract baker Mohsin Alvi.

Charity Contested

When commerce collides with faith, it often leaves behind a trail of acrimony. Nothing illustrates this more clearly than the storm over the 3.5-acre plot in Pune’s Model Colony, a property belonging to the Seth Hirachand Nemchand Smarak Trust. What began as a Rs 311 crore redevelopment deal between the trust and Gokhale Landmarks LLP, a local construction firm, has now unravelled under the weight of religious sensitivities, political intrigue and public suspicion. On Sunday, the developer formally withdrew from the agreement, asking for the return of the Rs 230 crore it had already paid.


The trust’s land, housing a Jain hostel and the Shri Bhagwan Mahavir Digambar Jain Temple, is no ordinary real estate. It embodies the legacy of community philanthropy dating back to 1958, when the trust was established to serve students and pilgrims. Yet, like many urban charities sitting on valuable plots in India’s booming cities, it found itself tempted by the promise of redevelopment, which ostensibly designed to fund modern facilities but interpreted by critics as a sell-out.


Gokhale Landmarks insists it did everything by the book, securing the charity commissioner’s approval and following procedural norms. But compliance did not protect it from outrage.


The moral dimension is precisely what complicates the matter. Charitable land carries obligations beyond legal paperwork as it is held in trust for the public good. To many Jains, selling it to a developer, however well-intentioned, amounted to desecrating a sacred site. Their agitation grew after reports surfaced linking Union Minister Murlidhar Mohol to the deal. Though Mohol claims he exited the firm before any transaction occurred, the perception of impropriety stuck. Shiv Sena leader Ravindra Dhangekar, seized the issue to accuse his own ally - the BJP - of meddling in charitable affairs for private gain.


The controversy has since tested the uneasy camaraderie within Maharashtra’s ruling Mahayuti alliance. Deputy Chief Minister Eknath Shinde had to step in, warning Dhangekar against public sniping that could hand ammunition to the Opposition. Shinde’s intervention underscored how fragile coalition etiquette becomes when religion and property intersect.


The Charity Commissioner of Mumbai has ordered a status quo on the deal and will decide whether Gokhale Landmarks will recover its payment. But the broader question is how should India govern the redevelopment of charitable and religious properties sitting atop valuable urban land? Cases like this are hardly rare. From church lands in Kerala to temple properties in Tamil Nadu, trusts find themselves caught between their founding missions and the lure - or necessity - of monetising real estate.


Urban expansion has turned pious holdings into prime assets, inviting scrutiny and scandal in equal measure. The state’s regulatory apparatus, often opaque and politicised, is ill-equipped to navigate the delicate balance between preserving heritage and enabling growth. The Jain hostel affair, with its mix of religious sentiment, bureaucratic oversight and political theatre, is only the latest reminder of that dysfunction.

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