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Bungalow tales... same old charm

R.V. SMITH


THE BUNGALOWS of Delhi Cantonment exude an old world charm and may be regarded as an extension of those built in the Civil Lines in the second half of the 14th Century. There was a reason for it. The 1857 Mutiny made the British families decide against staying in the Walled City, because they were scared that in case of another uprising they would be caught unawares. Earlier, British families resided in Chandni Chowk, Kashmiri Gate, Daryaganj and near Fatehpuri too. Many of the sahebs adopted local manners, smoked the hukka, ate Indian sweetmeats and pan. The memsahebs bought household necessities from the shops below their houses and strolled through Chandni Chowk in the evening. But after the Mutiny, the British withdrew into their own close-knit circle.

The bungalows were far away from the crowded bazaars. Here in large houses built in compounds they dwelt with an assortment of servants. The khansama, the masalchi, the bhisti, the dhobi, the sweeper stayed in the outhouses. The babalog played with the children of the servants and learnt to speak like them until they were sent home for studies.

The bungalow had verandahs in the front and rear, bathrooms at the two ends of the rear verandah, and the living room between. The front verandah had dressing rooms in the flanks and the living room in the centre. One of the rooms was used as the hall where dance parties were held.

The day was spent by the women in haggling with the boxwallah and planning the menu after breakfast, basking in the sun during winter or relaxing in the rooms in summer before and after lunch. With the serving of the late afternoon tea began the hectic preparations for the evening.

The bungalows of Boulevard Road were just as famous as those of the Civil Lines and Rajpur Road. Lawyers, missionaries, civil servants, retired officers - all lived there. In Ludlow Castle Road, now renamed Raj Niwas Marg, servants would refer to them by their numbers.

Only Bombay House was not known by its number. All the rest, save the Lat Saheb (Lt. Governor's residence), were reduced to numerals and its men and women to such allusions as "das number wali" or "saath number wala". Once there was a scandal, and all one heard was "Nau number wali panch number wale ke sath bhag gayee" (the woman residing in bungalow No.9 eloped with the saheb staying at bungalow No.5).

However, dak bungalows were a breed apart. The one on Rajpur Road and the one on Alipore Road were more in the nature of rest houses. Dak bungalows were essentially a British creation. You must have heard of Siri Dak Bungalow made famous by Kipling, where the old khansamah had lost touch with the world and used to call dinner "retab" or dog's food. The dak bungalow at Muree, now in Pakistan, was the centre of strange happenings at night, when unseen guests lounged in its rooms.

The dak bungalow at Fatehpur Sikri was frequented by British officers on their way to the erstwhile Rajputana. It now serves tourists and other visitors. The dak bungalow at Sikandra is still preserved in 19th Century style, complete with a lantern.

Delhi Dak Bungalow was situated where the Mutiny memorial now stands, opposite the telegraph office. It was the abode of officers in transit or on holiday. It provided easy access to Skinner's Church, Kashmere Gate, the Civil Lines and the railway station. This dak bungalow also had its share of strange happenings, for a young British officer shot himself dead in it after an affair with a pretty woman. Some say she was already married, others think that when she decided to get engaged to someone else, the officer blew out his brains. Local lore has it that, head in hand, he haunts the road at night.

The story does not end here. The woman who spurned the officer died of remorse. Mrs. Bechwith, who once lived in the Civil Lines but is now long dead, had heard that the woman was an Anglo-Indian better known by her nickname Maddie. She was not sure whether the officer's name was John or Johnstone. Now the dak bungalow exists only in the yarns told on winter evenings.

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