The Great Brick-and-Mortar Ballyhoo: A Plea for Our Vanished Verandas

Parliament panel calls for preserving British-era heritage sites not under ASI ambit - The HinduI say, have you taken a squint at our grand old edifices lately? It’s enough to make a chap’s monocle pop straight into his mulligatawny. One wanders past the old Collector’s Residency or the Secretariat, and instead of the crisp, authoritative snap of history, one finds the distinct, lingering aroma of "neglect." It is, to put it bluntly, a bit of a washout.

As someone who has spent a fair chunk of their earthly pilgrimage within the hallowed corridors of Division Commissioner residences and those rather plush Railway Clubs, I find the current state of affairs to be a "shattering blow." These buildings—the PWD Dak Bungalows, the forest rest houses, the medical colleges where many a fine chap learned his anatomy—are not just piles of stone. They are Exquisite Masterpieces.

The Lucknow Lament: From Kotwali to Car Park

Take, for instance, the Kotwali of Hazargunj in Lucknow. A lovelier bit of police architecture you’d be hard-pressed to find in a month of Sundays. In its heyday, it stood with a certain "don't-mess-with-me" dignity. But what do we see now? It has been turned into a parking lot!

I ask you, is nothing sacred? Instead of the dignified tramp of the law, we have the undignified honking of hatchbacks. It’s a tragedy, I tell you—like using a Ming vase to hold your umbrellas or using a Stradivarius to swat flies. To see a site of such historical gravity reduced to "Zone B: No Parking" is enough to make a sensitive soul wilt.

The Freedom Factor: As Vital as the Cellular Jail

We must preserve these sites with the same fervour we reserve for the Cellular Jail. Why? Because these buildings housed the very souls who fought tooth and nail for our "Today." Many of our freedom fighters were processed, held, or defied the Empire within these very walls. To bulldoze them is to tear out the heart of the story.

The younger generation—bless their uninformed hearts—needs to see the physical evidence:

The Contrast of Luxury: They must see the "absolute velvet" in which the British lived while the rest of the nation was enduring the grim reality of famine.

The 250-Year Narrative: Two-and-a-half centuries of "uninvited guests" cannot be understood through a textbook alone. You need to see the high ceilings and the sweeping verandas to know exactly what was being taken from us.

A Note on the "Permanent Residents" (The Ghosts)

Now, here is the pièce de résistance. One cannot talk about a Dak Bungalow or a Forest Rest House without mentioning the Resident Spectres. It is a well-known fact that these places are positively crawling with the departed—spectral Majors, translucent Governesses, and perhaps the odd phantom postman.

I propose that these Ghosts be put up for preview! If we are opening the doors to the public, let us include the "Permanent Residents" in the itinerary:

Historical Accuracy: A ghost is, after all, the ultimate primary source.

The Spook Factor: Nothing brings history home like a sudden, chilly draft that makes one’s hair stand on end like a startled hedgehog.

"To preserve the brickwork but ignore the ghosts would be like serving a Christmas pudding without the brandy—perfectly edible, perhaps, but lacking that essential, tingly zing."

The Final Plea

We must throw open the gates! Let the public in to see the libraries and the grand halls. Let the children see exactly what was endured and what was reclaimed. If we don’t act now, we are essentially handing the future a blank map and wondering why they’re lost.

It simply won’t do, old bean. Not by a long shot. Let’s keep the masonry intact, the history vivid, and the spirits in their proper place—on the official tour guide’s list!