Mohammed Nazim Sheikh, a humble pav-seller by day and brave rescuer by heart, has saved over 300 lives in Mumbai without ever receiving any government award
NEW DELHI — At first glance, Mohammed Nazim Sheikh looks like just another street vendor in Colaba, selling pav to earn a living. But ask anyone around the Gateway of India, and they’ll tell you he’s not just a vendor — he is a man witha golden heart beating for the humanity.
For 35 years, this 51-year-old Muslim man has been saving people from drowning in the rough sea near Mumbai’s iconic Gateway of India. Over 300 people owe their lives to him. Yet, despite his unmatched service and selfless work, Nazim has never received any official recognition from the government.
“I started saving people when I was just 16,” Nazim told this reporter as he stood barefoot near the edge of the sea. “I saw someone drowning and jumped in. Since then, I never looked back.”
By the time most tourists start enjoying the sea view or taking selfies, Nazim is already there — quietly watching. He sells pav in the mornings to feed his family. But once the stall is closed, he turns into something else entirely.
“They come to feel the water or enjoy the wind, but just one slip and they are gone,” he says, pointing at the sea. “If you don’t act at that very moment, they won’t survive.”
Nazim’s quick action and deep knowledge of the sea have saved hundreds. But he has also pulled out around 30 dead bodies, most of them men, who couldn’t be saved in time.
He remembers each case. Some were children who slipped while playing. Others were people trying to take risky selfies. And some, sadly, were people who didn’t want to be saved.
One of Nazim’s most unforgettable rescues took place in 1996 during high tide. A boy had fallen into a deep part of the sea. Without waiting for anyone, Nazim dived in and swam across the dangerous stretch, pulling the boy out alive. For this, he was given a “Best Swimmer” award by local groups.
In 2022, during the Ganpati immersion, he saved two men from drowning. During the 2003 Gateway bomb blast, Nazim was part of the rescue efforts, helping bring out dead and injured bodies. “I was there… I saw everything,” he says, his eyes moist.
Despite all this, Nazim has never been honoured by the government. No awards. No certificates. Not even a letter of thanks.
“I wrote to the Prime Minister, to the Chief Minister, to Devendra Fadnavis… no one replied,” he says with a quiet shrug. “I’ve kept doing my job. I don’t do it for fame. But yes, it hurts.”
Nazim used to keep all his clippings and awards, but most of them were lost when his house was repaired. “There’s nothing left now,” he says.
Those who work near the Gateway of India respect him deeply.
A 60-year-old woman who sells snacks outside the Taj Hotel says:
“I have been seeing Nazim for many years. He has saved so many lives. If anything happens, everyone runs to him before calling the police.”
A local photographer said, “Earlier he used to save people right in front of the Gateway, but after that area was blocked for security, he shifted to the side near the Taj. But he still keeps an eye on the sea.”
Another 51-year-old cameraman said: “We all know him. He doesn’t wait to be called. He comes on his own. That’s the kind of man he is.”
Even the police trust him.
Senior Police Inspector Pramod Bhaute, from Colaba Police Station, told this reporter:
“Nazim works as a lifeguard for us. He is always active and alert. His help has been important in many cases. We are thankful to him.”
When asked what gives him this courage, Nazim simply replies:
“Allah has given me strength. I’m not afraid of the sea. If someone is in trouble, I help. That’s all.”
He doesn’t take money from the people he saves. “They say thank you, that is enough,” he says, smiling.
Nazim lives in the Jetty area of Colaba, close to the Gateway. He finishes his stall work by noon and heads straight to the sea. He doesn’t wear any uniform, nor is he paid by the government, but everyone knows who to call in an emergency.
In a country where communal tensions often push Muslims into the corner, here stands a Muslim man quietly saving lives, one after the other.
Yet, no minister has come forward to honour him. No medal. No felicitation. No pension. While others are awarded for much less, Nazim continues his work in silence.
This raises a serious question: Why has a man who has saved more than 300 lives, helped during a bomb blast, and been the go-to person in a tourist area as important as the Gateway of India, never received any official recognition?
Is it because he is poor? Or because he is Muslim?
Despite the lack of support, Nazim’s spirit remains strong.
“If anything happens,” he says, “I’m ready. I’ll do what I’ve always done.”
Mumbai’s waves are wild. Accidents still happen. And there is still only one man who stands between the sea and certain death.
He doesn’t wear a badge. He doesn’t ask for payment. He doesn’t wait for applause. He just saves lives —because that’s what he believes he was born to do.
Nazim’s story is not just about bravery — it’s about the failure of a system that has forgotten its real heroes. While political leaders chase headlines and influencers get awards, real-life saviours like Nazim Sheikh go unrecognised.
If there’s one thing this country must do now, it is to wake up and honour this man who has given everything without asking anything in return.
