The thick, humid monsoon air clung to us as we made our way to The Plastic Yard, a recycling unit alive with machinery, nestled between the damp lanes and buzzing markets in the 13th compound off Dharavi’s 60 Feet Road. The 13th Compound, known for being a hub of informal recycling of plastic and metal, branches into endless veins of tempos overflowing with waste collected from the city, and godowns churning with heavy crushers. The narrow lanes led to snack shops and workers humming old Bollywood songs, the roofs dripping in the monsoon with a mixed waft of biryani and metals. Unlike the streets of other neighbourhoods, there were spaces where time moved either too quickly or too sluggishly; the crushers rattling 5 tons of plastic and workers humming songs while sorting materials formed a strong contrast.

The 13th compound was a barren land reclaimed from the estuary connecting to the Mithi River. Mumbai’s Textile mills were at large at the time, and the scrap cloth went into the recycling units of Dharavi that sprouted and flourished here. As more units popped up, Irfan’s father, in the late 70s,  found a godown where he started sorting plastics under a middleman.  With years of practice in the field of plastics, eventually he was able to afford crushers, pellet-making machines and hand-operated blow-moulders.

We walked toward the main unit of Irfan Bhai’s plastic-crushing enterprise, namely, The Plastic Yard, handed down to Irfan by his father.

With the onset of sustainability and reduction of waste, businesses like Irfan Bhai’s fare well. “We buy rejected plastics from medical companies,” his son, Ashraf, explained, gesturing toward examples. “We crush them in our machines and pack them in these large white sacks for export.” He pointed to a heap of sorted materials packed neatly in colour-coded bags.

In a world choking with plastic, recycled plastic offers a better alternative for low-contact products like barrels, crates, and mugs. These items don’t require the sterilisation standards of food-grade containers or medical packaging. Companies often use this recycled plastic, sometimes blending it with up to 50% virgin plastic when needed.

Ashraf opened a window into the world of petrochemicals, industrial processes, and machinery. He described how plastic bottles from medical companies were manufactured through extrusion or blow moulding, and how each type required different handling depending on its prior use. 

The unit processes plastics of different densities, colours, odours, chemical composition and previous modifications. A single labourer sorts a heap of these accordingly, carefully separating the colours and types, and Irfan mentioned that workers going off to their hometowns causes a load on others. Nevertheless, Irfan Bhai was never short of working hands. “Labour is easy to find here,” Irfan Bhai noted. “We can get workers for a daily wage of ₹600.”

Ashraf showed us a box of coloured, chopped plastic and another filled with smooth pellets. “These are worth very little because they can’t be dyed another colour,” he said, pointing at the multicoloured pieces. However, the white pellets, worth much more, are bought in bulk by companies and used for trade.

The peak of their business was in the late 1990s and early 2000s, when their unit boasted 2 pellet-making machines, a three-storey godown, and an iconic milestone-shaped sign that read: Dharavi, 0 km. “Many foreigners used to visit and go up to the terrace,” Ashraf tells us.

Back then, they would purchase unwashed plastic scraps, clean them in salt water, dry them on the terrace, and process them into uniform pellets, the most widely usable form of recycled plastic. Orders flowed in from places like Chennai and Pondicherry, drawn in part by their now-iconic signboard. Companies contacted them to recycle their plastic.

Things changed in 2008, when rising electricity costs made the machines unsustainable. They had to be sold off, and the business was scaled down to a rented godown with a single crushing machine.
“Easier work is better now,” Irfan Bhai said, “It’s still profitable, with less hassle. 60% of Mumbai’s waste comes here.”

At its peak, Dharavi had nearly 100 such crushing units, making it largely self-sufficient. However, with regulations tightening, machines being removed, and the sector more dispersed, areas like Bhandup, Borivali and Malad have since emerged as new hubs for plastic pellet-making and moulding.

At the thought of redevelopment, Irfan Bhai grows practical. “Dharavi will surely undergo redevelopment,” he says. “Any resident with the correct legal papers is said to be relocated to Kurla. We can move our unit there for this purpose.” 

He quoted an anecdote. “Once, a while back, transport from the client was too expensive. So, while they were at Vasai on the way to Dharavi, we decided to look for recycling units there and got the plastic crushed in Vasai.” This goes to show how smart work can save time, energy and money, which can only come from years of challenges and expertise over time.

Even with 30 years of experience, Irfan Bhai believes that a formal education will help sustain and grow the business. He encourages his son to pursue certification at the Indian Plastic Institute in Andheri, which trains students to identify various plastics and understand the machinery involved in their production. The certificate is essential for working with major companies, such as Nilkamal, a leader in plastic manufacturing.

Irfan Bhai prioritises higher education. As much business as there is in that of recycling, he firmly believes that education has no replacement. “I want my sons to study further,” Irfan Bhai said. “My older son once wanted to study aviation; he even cleared the entrance exam, but chose to stay and support the family business.”

Ashraf’s initial plans after his bachelor’s degree were similar, according to his father. But his ambitions seem to lie elsewhere.
“I want to explore the virgin plastics sector,” he said. Ashraf appears more drawn to the ropes of the trade than the skies. “It may give us more business.”

Ashraf’s knack for business and knowledge in the field of petrochemicals, with only 8 months of field experience, make a simple business like recycling plastic a scalable merchandise, and managing waste for firms that reduce waste by refabricating plastics through these mechanisms.

In the noisy lanes of crushers and clanking, there seemed to be much hope for a more flourishing unit. Globally, the major industries, corporations and governments are vouching for a circular, cradle-to-cradle economy, along with its sustainability being a craze or a global wave. Industries like that of Irfan’s have huge potential.

Even the widely spoken, Great Pacific Garbage Patch could be reduced if the systems in place redirected waste to recycling units instead of landfills or incinerators. Waste management and people in this business are looked down upon worldwide, and the job of a kabaadi is seen as menial. Meanwhile, the field of “Garbology” has been taking off in the West. 

Expanding metro cities like Mumbai are in dire need of these units, which are ironically being cleared off. Irfan and Ashraf’s unit is just one example of what this renewed and rebranded industry of recycling may bring to a country-level scale.