Kolkata’s central business district of Dalhousie Square, or BBD Bagh, has some very impressive expressions of British colonial architecture. At one end is Raj Bhavan, built in 1803 in the likeness of an English country mansion (Keddleston Hall in Derbyshire), and at the other is Writers’ Buildings, an impression mish-mash of Corinthian facade, Ionic pillars and Baroque statuary, built originally in 1776 (many additions were made to the building in later decades) for the ‘writers’ of the East India Company. Among other remarkable buildings in this two-kilometre square heritage precinct are the GPO, with its magnificent dome and Corinthian pillars, and the Neoclassical St Johns Cathedral, one of the first public buildings in the city.
The only exception to this visual uniformity is the Telephone Bhavan, an ugly white multistoried block of concrete built in the unfussy modernist style — all straight lines and hard edges. It was built in 1950, under the aegis of Bengal’s then chief minister, the legendary BC Roy, who had the Dalhousie Institute building, a striking Neo-classical structure, demolished to make way for it. The result — a building that sticks out like a sore thumb, as also disrupts the harmony of the quarter’s urban design and obstructs the clear line of vision from Raj Bhavan to Writer’s Building. Of course, few Kolkatans travelling to BBD Bagh, packed inside mini buses and Metros see Telephone Bhawan’s incongruity to lament it, but for anyone who cares about heritage the building’s presence should carry a valuable warning, a lesson in the need to consider not just buildings, but entire precincts. It is inevitable, perhaps, but must this process of change be at the cost of a neighbourhood’s essential visual character, especially when it is of historical importance, as with Dalhousie Square? Must new occupants of the urban planning department pass over earlier urban plans when they rethink ways to accommodate a growing city? There are precedents, if one looks elsewhere. The central squares of old cities in Europe, for instance, have done remarkably well to preserve their essential visual character through a mix of careful preservation, imaginative retro-fitting and opening up new areas in the suburbs. The result - unlike with old Indian cities, it’s these old quarters in Paris and London which have emerged as valuable real estate with people who can afford it paying a vast premium for the privilege of living in these historically-rich, beautifully-designed neighbourhoods.
Such measures, which require legislative intervention, may be too much to hope for in India. The answer could lie in vigilant civil society which knows and values the history of its surroundings. In Kolkata, for instance, such a popular movement has been in place for some years now, led by the writer Amit Chaudhuri. They were the ones who campaigned to get the area put on the World Monument Fund’s endangered list, ensuring thereby that no colonial structure is pulled down to make way for a monstrosity.
The author is Features Editor, DNA.
