24, THE MALL, DELHI CANTT…NOW, and in 1953-55

Gatecrash!

The only way to get rid of temptation is to yield to it…

As we were driving past 24, The Mall in Delhi Cantt, I had an irrepressible urge to enter the house, uninvited and unannounced. It was a bright Sunday morning, and occupants of the house were entitled to a relaxed day.

Sixty odd years ago, during 1953 to 55, we had lived in this bungalow, and I wanted to go down memory lane. Throwing discretion to the winds, we entered. Col VN Shukla, the current occupant forgave our trespass, and permitted me to take some pictures. The building and the precincts are much the same as they were, when we lived there.

Built over a four-acre plot of land, this house would be the envy of the richest and the most powerful Indians. Considering that this house was already thirty or forty years old, in 1953, I think its current age would be close to a century.

Last week, I discovered a few 60 year old pictures of the house. And they refreshed my memory. In retrospect, I think that a lot has change during these six decades. The visible similarity between what we see now is an illusion. In actual fact, a new form of life has evolved. The old civilization is gone with the wind!

Before I take you back in time, let me show you a few glimpses of what we saw, and how it compares with what life was like, when I stepped into my teens, in 1954.

 

The front of the house is exactly as it was in 1953. I have a clear memory of every inch, especially the veranda which was nice and large

 

The circular drive-way was designed such that the vehicles did not have to reverse. It must be remembered that when this house was built, they horse drawn carriages, which did not have a reverse gear.

 

Another view of the circular lawn

 

This picture is taken from the house, and shows the size of the lawns. We had enough play fields to play cricket and football!

 

It is time now to meet our gracious host, Col and Ms VN Shukla. They have just one child. And so, the total number of people in the house is just three.

 

The house, inside has changed a lot. The floors are tiled, and the air-conditioners suggest that the occupants do not have to sleep outside, under mosquito nets as we did during the summer!

 

The drawing room is as it was. The fire-place is intact, but no longer used. Electric heaters have taken over!

The kitchen and the bathrooms have metamorphosed. The wood-work is the only remnant of the old times.

   

At the end of our tryst with 24, The Mall, I managed to get a glimpse of the ‘rear side of the bungalow. There, we had a flourishing kitchen garden and a shed for our buffaloes. What I saw was two acres of shrubs and grass. I neither saw any men or animals. And as far as I could see, there were no servant’s quarters at the far end.

*

Part II. Down Memory Lane

We moved into this house during the summer of 1953, and left it in Dec 55. I was old enough to remember the period vividly. Recently while going through the old family albums, I discovered a few pictures, and with their help, I re-created the scene. In these sixty odd years, life has changed a lot. The major differences are:

• First and foremost, the number of occupants has decreased. The number of children per family in that era was four to seven. In our case, we were four siblings, and our grand mother lived with us. We also had many guests and visitors. During the summer vacations, the number of person dining together could exceed a dozen.

• We had two buffaloes and a kitchen garden to produce fresh vegetables and animal fodder.

• There was no sewerage system, and so, one sweeper had to be on duty to remove the night soil the whole day.

• We had a row of servant quarters. They had a ‘service lane’ behind their quarters, and so they never entered through the main gate. Indeed, they were very useful.

• We had enough children to make full use of the ground and the lawns to play.

To tell the tale I have gathered a few pictures of that period.

 

This picture is dated Dec 1955 and shows the family

 

And this is our grand-mother. Our father had purchased a ‘charkha’ to keep her busy. During the pre-partition days, most women spent their leisure time, spinning yarn out of cotton.

 

This is a picture of that circular patch seen in the coloured pictures in Part I. Here, we are playing ‘musical chairs’ during the birthday of my brother (Now Brig Retd) Surinder.

 

And this is Surinder, swinging away to glory !

 

And here, Surinder is enjoying a ride on one of our buffaloes

 

Surinder cutting his birthday cake in 1954. He was ten years old, then.

The Aggregate Quality of Life

We had a very happy childhood. We did not have many of the modern gadgets and devices, but we did not miss them. Children went to school in the near vicinity, and most of us either walked the distance, or used bicycles. Our father had a car, but it was used sparingly. The word pollution had not been coined, and traffic accidents were rare. Life was simple, but many of our activities were labour intensive. And therefore, obesity was uncommon. Servants lived in slum-like conditions, and I used to feel very sorry whenever I went to their quarters. I think the opening paragraph of ‘The Tale of Two Cities’ sums it up very well.

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way – in short, the period was so far like the present period, that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only.                                   

                                                                                                                                    -Charles Dickens

 

Part III PHOOL SINGH THAKUR

This narrative would be incomplete if I do not mention the story of PS Thakur. His father was an employee of the Air Force Station, and had only one child. He had managed to educate him, and he was my class-mate in the Government School which I attended. He used to shift from one house to another, to remain near the school. When approached, our father agreed to accommodate him. Impressed by the ability of the lad, he even motivated him to prepare for the NDA test. And Phool proved to be equal to the trust placed in his capabilities. He joined XX Course and was in the Fox Squadron.

I lost track of him in life, but my course-mate, Brig Madan Dewan (XIX Course Able Sqn), ASC, told me about him. Phool Singh passed away, a few years ago, but his wife and son are in touch with Madan, and at his instance, they came to see me. I was glad to see that the family is doing well. I owe much of what I learnt about social disparity to Phool. And I think our father deserves the credit for this one good deed.

Here, I wish to end this piece with a picture of Madan Dewan, as he looked in 1954. This was taken on an NCC camp, and he is standing with his mother and sister. Our course-mates may be able to recognise him!

 

Brig Madan Dewan (XIX Course A Sqn) ASC, seen with his mother and sister

Life in the Servants Quarters

Thanks to Phool Singh, I got a good insight of the life in the servants quarters. There were eight rooms in a row. And there was a universally accepted hierarchy. The cook and the bearer spent all their time with us, and they also ate with us. They were the highest in the pecking order. Then came the gardeners and the washer men. At the end of the spectrum were the sweepers.

They had no toilet and there was no electricity in their rooms. Two taps served their need of water. Of these one was exclusively used by the sweepers.  They defecated in the fields around and bathed in the open. Some servants lived alone;  the others had their wives and children, all cramped up in a single room. The condition of those living with large families was similar to what we see in the slums. Their children did not go to school, and began to help their parents as soon as they were old enough for the job.   

 

The Tailpiece

Houses of this kind are being phased out, slowly but surely. Sixty years ago, most officers lived in the luxury of such bungalows. But we can no longer afford this luxury. Most of the other houses in which we grew up have been demolished. It is only a matter of time when the rest will disappear. In Delhi Cantt, I am told that the servant quarters have been razed to ground. The lawns are mowed by a jungle-gym, and so there is no need for ‘working parties’.

Indeed the most revolutionary change has been caused by the sewerage system. The ‘untouchables’ are no longer condemned to carry the night soil on their heads.

And children go to distant schools, and therefore no one plays on those spacious lawns. There are no buffaloes and few kitchen gardens and no one sleeps out in the open, under mosquito nets.

The old civilization in which we grew up is ‘Gone with the wind’