A Passion to Preserve

My obsession with old constructed buildings introduced me to Dhawalpura Kothi - the grand mansion, now a legacy of Chanda Krishna Rohatgi and Meenakshi Rohatgi. A charming Kothi tucked away in the old lanes of Patna City. 

Welcomed by a huge old wooden doors- the sharp and deep wooden texture and the rusted iron buckles revealed its age. It was ancient. Passing by the bagicha- the land full of mango and litchi tress, climbers and creepers hanging to them as it was not being maintained for years, stands tall the white washed building. The grand Dhawalpura Kothi.

I love old buildings; they often have special architectural details that you just don’t find in newer construction – high ceilings, thick walls, claw footed tubs, odd little wooden closets, built in furniture, old colorful textured glasses and iron detailed designs.

An octogenarian clad in white kurta-pajama, wrinkled face with sharp features, tall and well groomed hair- Chand Krishna Rohtagi , would not have looked less charming than a Bollywood star in his younger days, welcomed us with a cold smile. The lady in crisped pink cotton sari with those 80s floral print and a huge distinctive red bindi, standing by his side was his pillar of life.

The Dhawalpura khoti is an abode of love birds- the khothi has witnessed the love story of Mr. and Mrs. Rohatgi. They both fell in love and got married. Any home can be castle when the king and queen are in love.

The old standing tall Dhawalpura kothi was constructed in 1990 after it got damaged in massive earthquake in 1898. A wonderfully impressive cast iron fanlight or surmount comprising floral scroll work over windows/doors and a grand central circular feature set within a classic arch profile add colour to the Kothi- it took 12 years to complete the baronial building on the same foundation. Royalty it speaks! 

The building retains in the same construction and design without letting the modernity and luxury touch its ancestral charm. It was repaired, retouched but was not reconstructed. Mr. Rohatgi, despite of being unwell, passionately took me to a small yet detailed tour of Kothi.  

The façade with white cast iron and wood benches, over the years, have witnessed harsh dry air of summers, the first rain of monsoon and the bone biting cold of Patna. The place is perfect for an evening tea complimented with a good book. 

Mr. Rohatgi, an IIT graduate and owner of Pradeep lamps, has ran his business successfully from this beautiful Kothi. The Gaddi- the place from where the businessman ran their business, has an intricate carved teakwood and black iron pillars, record rooms on the either side and pictures of forefather for blessings. The gaddi construction gives you a fare idea of how business was a serious affair.   

The corridor overlooking the breath taking construction, which is a perfect blend of design and architect; is the most exquisite part of Kothi. A perfect place to witness the ochre sky, chirping birds, enjoy your morning tea and bid the day goodbye. The antique cast iron railing with sinuous pattern and wooden blinds makes this place lively.

The terrace- the newly constructed area of the Kothi is sweet hideout of the couple. For Mr. & Mrs Rohatgi colour of love is white- simple and pure.  The kitchen area modified into study room and workstation is now a white washed hut-shaped airy space. 

The terrace garden with Classic Coalbrookdale bench painted black - rising majestically from a beautiful lush green terrace. A quite place to read, listen to the sounds of a summer garden or lose yourself in views of the stars. Picture Perfect it is!

The library with over thousands book staked on the shelves according to the interest includes history, travel, philosophy medicine, biographies, law and fiction.

A house is a just a concrete without the home décor. The spotless white curtains with over 300 years old glasses, lamps and chandelier completes the Kothi. The décor from across the globe compliments heavenly beauty of the Kothi. 

A century old well

The Land of White Curtains

Meghalaya, for me, has always been that state which received highest rainfall. This is what textbook taught us. However, the textbooks failed to describe the majestic views of Meghalaya- the abode of clouds.

  

The state tucked in green Khasi hill is magical- away from the hustle and bustle of the city traffic. Being a pluviophile, I have always fantasized about Cheerapunji locally called Sohra; the place acknowledged as one of the wettest place on this earth.   

Shillong- the capital city is a living example of the wonder architect can do. The city established by the Britishers is land of matrilineal system of inheritance. I was really taken by surprise about the involvement of the female in the society and economics of the state. From the butcher shop to the fruit vendors- the females have taken over the command of the economy.

You can’t get over those colourful miniature houses with light flowy white curtains. From a two story cemented building to traditional bamboo houses- every one, without a miss, flaunted the white curtains on the doors and windows. Curious about the fact, I approached a local. “ This white curtain is parameter for us to measure cleanliness. As soon as the curtain turns into pale yellow from spotless white, we clean our houses too,” said Sevenson Dhar, a fruit vendor. People here takes cleanliness seriously.

I prod the clouds; they brushed my face, settled on my hair and followed me to the green fungal stairs of Nohkalikai falls. The water oozing from the rocks and dripping on the stairs made it greasy. I kept on following the stair and was getting deep inside the cloud. Green, be it forest or greasy green fungal stair steps- it gives you a sense of relief.    

  

If your breathe consciously in the hills, which we rarely do, you can feel the fresh light air slipping from your nostrils towards your adulterated lungs. The air is light and as fresh as dew. When you are in hills, especially Himalayas, you sleep/eat/breathe hills. The eco friendly bamboo dustbins were places at both the side of the road, encouraging one to keep the place clean.

While driving into hills through those fatal curves, you are supposed to follow a consistent path. So, swathing towards Cheerapunji from Shillong almost towards the outskirts I found the roads as clean as our temples are. The lush green meadows, a well maintain sewages and a scare crow- why do we name this state as The Scotland of East? Why not just Meghalaya- an integral part of India. It's high time when we should stop naming our cities on the name of foreign land. Let's be a proud Indian, a Indian who will never compare his country. The unconditional love!   

The clean roads, blooming gardens, well shaped creepers and solar lights- Mawlynnong is a cultural shock for people from North who are in habit of littering and peeing on roads. The villagers proudly named it – “God’s own garden”. The spotless clean village charges Rs 50 per head as an entry fee. 

While strolling around the village, I saw a 10-year-old guy cleaning his shoe’s sole. And he unintentionally taught me how to keep your land clean. The cleanest village was a joint effort of women, men and children.  

Walking on the cobbled streets bordered with thatched Khasi huts and go past gardens that are full of colourful flowers, I was introduced to the gigantic rubber tree woven together to form a living root bridge at Riwai Village. The roots holding each other tight for years, growing on each other taught me the strength of unity and faith.  

Hills indoctrinate faith and fear. Faith keeps you going and fear forces you to push all the limits. 

PS: The state introduced me to my new love: Jacaranda mimosaefolia. The purple blooms which took my heart away!

    

The Dilapidated Glory

The old rickety wooden door, the damped walls, the cracked paints on the walls, the unwanted creepers and the excreta of the animals, now, defines Globe Theatre, Ranikhet.

The decaying colonel- era theatre welcomes you at the entrance of the KRC (Kumaon Regimental Centre) Museum tucked into the heart of Kumaon mountains. While producing my identity card to the officer on duty, out of curiosity and compelled by the profession, I asked about the history of the museum.

“This colonel-era building was built in 1886. A private contractor wanted to demolish the theatre but was stopped by the army. The only rules applies here are of army,” said the army man.

Ironically, the building behind the theatre is a clean swanky museum maintained by the Kumaon Regimental Centre (KRC), the main army establishment in Ranikhet.  The museum is a long, dimly lit underground chamber sunk beneath a memorial garden dedicated to the Kumaon regiment’s decorated officers.

Surrounded by the well-maintained army buildings, the globe theatre suffered from untouchability, brushed aside by the government and the army. I was stuck in incongruity- the negligence of the army and the government has left the age-old theatre into ruins.

Abandoned theatre named on the William Shakespeare’s dreamland, has witnessed many great plays. “The theatre is quite old. I have grown watching plays in the theatre. The artist from across the globe had performed here. After the invasion of cinema, the theatre was converted into a cinema hall. Amitabh Bachchan was then hot cake,” said Amardeo Rawat, an 86-year-old resident of Ranikhet.

The ticket counter, years back witnessed houseful shows, is now deserted. The cracked- faded poster of Shahenshah(1988) on the wall and Bachchan written in bold letters speak much about the last movie screened in this theatre. The only perfectly visible face on the poster was of Pran and Amrish Puri. The building still follows the rules painted on the wall.

The comfy seats have turned into junkies- rusted and broken into pieces. The theatre, divided into classes and balcony reminded me of the theatres in my hometown. Being a kid of 90s, I am familiar to the rules and the sitting arrangements of the old build theatre.

Globe theatre, back in 1886 was well equipped. The ripped sound system, the cracked screen and tatty lights advertise the infrastructure of the theatre. What have the state done to one of the oldest theatre of the country? Why neither the army nor the government took initiative to maintain the age-old tradition of our country called Cinema/Theatre?