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On your way to Gole Bazaar you would find a handsome maidan enclosing a two-story building of British vintage called South Institute. It was at the peak of its glory, such as it is, in the 1960s. And its exclusiveness declined steadily along with the decline of another charming institution called Anglo-Indian Community.
To me, Anglo-Indians associate and identify themselves with the Great Indian Railways of the Steam Engine Era. And, as the steam loco, along with its romance, slowly but steadily vanished like the Cheshire Cat, so did its Anglo-Indian Drivers and Coalmen:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eoPmVEXoAEc
When I was just about 5, I happened to visit our Uncle's new home in Nellore which was a stone's throw from the Madras-Howarh single-track line with signal posts with wooden arms provided with kerosene lamp holders and red and green glasses covering them. And one of them was just across our place. Mail and Express trains hooted and tooted and sped at a terrific speed since Nellore was then too small a station for them to halt. And they had those Canadian Engines which didn't exactly whistle but sort of brayed like a donkey. And by the time we rushed, they vanished from our sight.
But not the Goods Trains. They heaved and huffed and puffed and lugged and chugged and cranked to a screeching halt a yard or so before the signal tower. And as we ran and climbed the embankment to have a closer look, the Driver would spot us and wave to us cheerfully and throw a stick or two of grease as prizes and mementos. The Driver almost always had an exotic complexion and a 'way' of speaking to us quite unlike what we were used to...he was speaking Anglo-Indian, a special variant of English with a typical accent and style. And as the signal fell and he pulled the wire and tooted, we all stood transfixed. Mark Twain wrote that every kid in his childhood along the Mississippi had only one dream: to become the pilot of a steam boat...and if they behaved well and be good boys, God would make them pirates by and by. So did most of us talk about becoming a Steam Loco Driver.
Coming back to the Railway Town of KGP, it used to teem with cute Anglo-Indian families then...menfolk working in the Railways and their ladies as teachers of English in the many Convent Schools around. And South Institute was their meeting place. Its Cub House had an Auditorium with a stage. And it was used as their Dancing Hall on festive occasions and weddings and the many gala Fairs.
And as time passed it was used more and more as a make-shift cinema hall. And we used to buy tickets in the morning for the Evening Show and make a Party of it...the first floor had a small cafeteria where drinks of the right variety were served ceremoniously. All in all, a different weekend outing than watching the drab and cheap movies brought by the TFS in the Netajee.
And the ground floor of South Institute had a grand Barber Shop...compared to the dirty and lousy ones housed in the IIT Campus and manned by amateurs. I recall once my wife inspected my hairdo from a distance and asked me not to enter the house but get back and 'correct' my haircut at once before it is too late and the shop closes...apparently the job done by the IIT Barber kid was like Beta Decay...there was a gross parity violation.
On the other hand, the shop in the South Institute had swivel-chairs of adjustable height with plush cushions revolving glitch-free and had huge mirrors on opposite sides and had sprays and scents and foams and the works. It was a luxury which we looked forward to...though the chap charged double for his aambiance which included a radiogram with a choice of music like the jukeboxes of Madras that my Father used to reminisce.
My friend NCLN Chari, an orthodox Vaishnavite Brahmin, had a skin infection that BCR tried to cure and succeeded in aggravating. So, he consulted the Skin Specialist in the BNR Hospital. The Doc gave him a prescription and asked NCLN to visit him in the South Institute Auditorium that evening. We two drove down on our pushbikes and I was waiting upstairs while he went into the Auditorium. And the wait was getting longer by the minute and ultimately NCLN joined me after a good hour. And was describing what went on...apparently a Christian Prayer Meeting was on and the Skin Doc was leading it. And after half an hour, NCLN was called up the stage and the entire gathering rose and prayed for a good ten minutes for a quick recovery of the 'esteemed IIT Patient'.
And I asked him if the several Hallelujahs I heard were part of it and he blushed and stammered yes...indeed.
Two-in-One therapy...
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